Cooks Overboard by Joanne Pence Read Free Book Online Page A

him? “I didn’t believe a word that man uttered! Did you?”
    Paavo buried his nose deeper into the news. “Why shouldn’t I?”
    “Because it was so phony, as you well know!” That settled it. Something was definitely wrong with her inspector. He was usually the one to point out such things to her, not the other way around. She could handle his changing jobs—in fact, this particular change she welcomed—but a personality change along with it was beyond the pale.
    She lowered her voice and kept talking. “People don’t just get on board container ships at the last minute. And his interest in Von Mueller was most peculiar.”
    Blue eyes caught hers a moment; then Paavo gave a slight shake of his head and turned back to his paper. He flipped to another page. “Strangers have to talk about something to each other. Why not the news?”
    “It wasn’t that kind of chitchat,” Angie said. “Tell me the truth. Didn’t his questions—his whole manner—strike you as a little bit curious?”
    His jaw worked a moment. “He seemed eccentric, I’ll go that far.”
    “Aha! You did notice.” What was she doing? Why was she prodding him to question the people around them? She should be glad he wasn’t interested.
    “It doesn’t mean a thing,” he added.
    She gave up. She needed to change the subject, because this one was too frustrating. “By the way, what were you looking for in the bathroom cabinet?”
    He put the paper down and gave her a strange look. “Now what are you talking about?” He had a long-suffering tone that she didn’t much care for.
    “Last night I noticed the toiletries were jumbled. I assumed you were looking for something of mine. I wondered what it was, that’s all.”
    “I didn’t touch anything of yours in the bathroom cabinet,” he said firmly.
    “Well, somebody did. Are you sure?”
    He just looked at her.
    “Well, they were jumbled together. I wonder what it means?”
    Picking up the newspaper once more, he snapped the page open then folded it back. “It probably means no more than that we hit a big wave and everything slid.” He lifted the paper high and continued reading.
    She was ready to toss the Times overboard.
    “I don’t know why you’re acting this way, Angie,” Paavo said with a measured lack of interest. “Enjoy your vacation.”
    “Are you enjoying it?” she asked.
    “Of course,” he said. “Can’t you tell?”

10
    Later that morning, as the freighter slowly headed southward along the coast of Baja California, Angie stretched out on a lounge chair on the sundeck in a red bikini. She ignored the fact that the crew, who normally almost never appeared in the passenger areas, seemed to suddenly find all kinds of reasons to walk by.
    She had decided that she shouldn’t be pointing out oddities about this trip to Paavo. He was doing the right thing by ignoring them. That was what he’d do in his new persona: learn how not to be a cop. It wasn’t being dull—it was being an everyday kind of guy.
    Oh, well. She situated herself so that her head and shoulders were shaded by the big umbrella that rose from a round patio table. The umbrella could be angled wherever needed.
    She kicked off her sandals so that her feet,with their fuchsia-colored toenails, would tan without strap lines. Next, she picked up the book her sister Francesca had recommended to her, but she doubted she’d make it past chapter two. She didn’t need a book to tell her that she and Paavo were on totally different planets.
    As she glanced over at Paavo, the big umbrella shading her creaked and bent at the center joint, allowing the sun to hit her full in the face. When she put her hand up to shade her eyes, she could see he was zipping through an old Ross Macdonald mystery he’d found in the passenger lounge. She had to admit his book looked interesting. She put hers down.
    “You know,” she began as she stood up and pushed the umbrella back upright so that it shaded her once