Love in a Murderous Place Chapters 5 & 6

Chapter 5

“No really, this is the fucking problem with cruise ships, okay? Once you’re on, they’ve got you by the balls." Diana paused, waiting for any acknowledgement whatsoever. Met with only silence, she sat up in her lounge chair, and pushed her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, hoping if she stared hard enough, Laura might feel Diana's eyes burrowing into the back of her head and look up from the book she was reading. When that didn’t work, Diana settled for a throat-clear.

Laura huffed, and set her book down, casting a glare Diana’s way. “What? Are you seriously still complaining about this?”

The clear annoyance in Laura’s voice was the greatest relief Diana had felt all day. She was so fucking bored. She’d been trying to pick a fight with Laura since morning, and her friend had deflected each and every attempt for some stupid reason. Seizing the opportunity, she leaned inward, locking eyes with Laura. This was her in. “Listen, I forget one thing. One. And fuck me, right? We’re on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic. The only place to buy anything are those way overpriced, glitzy shops on board. And of course don’t carry what I need, so I’m shit out of luck. I’m telling you, cruises are a scam.”

Rolling her eyes, Laura picked her book up, and pretended to read. She didn’t last long. She’d barely picked her book back up before another audible sigh escaped her lips, and she slammed it right back down into her lap, then whirled around to face Diana.“Will you just let me tan in peace? I’m trying to enjoy my vacation.”

“You’re the one who wanted me to come on this stupid thing,” Diana snapped. “How long til our first port day? You think I could buy one then?”

With mounting frustration, Laura tilted her head skyward, then clenched and unclenched her fist. “It’s the day after tomorrow,” she answered. “And if you’re asking me whether or not I think there will be a single store in the entirety of San Juan where you can buy a dildo, then yes, I think you’ll probably find one.”

In a display of over melodrama, Diana bolted upright and threw her hands into the air. “Ugh, the fuck am I supposed to do til then?”

“I dunno,” Laura said. “Maybe go find the real thing?”

“As if. There’s not a single man on this entire ship I’d let so much as touch me with a ten foot pole." Diana settled back into her lounge chair, gazing upward into the cloudless blue above her. She was still bored. There was nothing but the same blue in every direction, the same ocean, the same boring people and mediocre food.

“Who said anything about ten feet? Maybe you should start by lowering your standards a bit,” Laura murmured. Diana turned to look at her friend; a smirk fluttered at the corner of Laura’s mouth.

Diana snorted, then sank back. She exhaled, and shook her head. Before she could come up with some biting retort, Laura returned to her book, much to Diana’s frustration. “Since when did you even read books?”

This time, Laura didn’t bother looking up. “Listen I know that anything which takes your mind off of cheap thrills or your stupid ex for more than five minutes bores the hell out of you, but some of us actually care about the world around us.”

“He must be a hell of a pull,” Diana replied.

“Some nerd, he’s hot though, and rich. He’s one of those weirdos who are just obsessed with true crime. Wouldn’t shut up about this book, insisted I read it. He just ‘couldn’t wait’ to hear what I had to say about it,” Laura scoffed, swiped her hand through the air, taking the book with it, before settling back down and continuing to read. “I figure I’ll skim, and just make sure one or both of us are too drunk to have a proper conversation about it. Still, I guess it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever read.”

“Wow, that might just be the highest praise you’ve ever given.” Diana wasn’t exaggerating.

“Oh shut the fuck up. This is the kinda shit you’d like. The whole reason he even wanted me to read this book is that it’s about this cruise line. There was like some weirdo cult dude back in the aughts who booked trips on this cruise line. And he snuck bodies on board in his luggage or whatever, then just tossed ‘em over the railing and into the ocean in the middle of the night. Anyway one day he just like, falls right in with the body. Supposebly, anyway. All this only came to light after the crew noticed he was missing and they searched his cabin. Nobody knows exactly how many bodies, or how he snuck them aboard, if he had accomplices helping him or anything really. It’s not even clear what happened to the ship. Apparently the cruise line is very shady about the whole thing. Then I guess there was some really weird, shady shit that happened on an executive retreat cruise a few years later and the whole cruise line nearly shut down,” she rolled her eyes. “God can imagine like, meeting that guy on a cruise and talking to him and then he turns out to be some psycho? I guess it would be fine though, he never killed anyone on board, just got rid of already dead bodies so it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“Wow,” Diana muttered. “I don’t care about this at all.” She stood, stumbled as the rocking of the ship caught her off guard, and groaned. “God this place sucks. I’m getting a drink. Do you want anything?”

“I want you to stop bothering me.”

“Fat fucking chance.” Diana found her footing, then pointed herself toward the nearest top deck bar. “I’ll get you a marg,” she called over her shoulder.

“Make sure you get it with salt.”

Diana rolled her eyes. “I know.”

Grumbling to herself, Diana stumbled across the deck, wondering if she’d ever actually develop anything akin to proper sea legs. She found an open stool, and collapsed onto it. The stool wobbled under her, there must have been a loose screw somewhere. It didn’t matter; she rested her head atop the bar and prayed to be anywhere else. The polished wood currently acquainting itself with her cheek was probably filthy. Diana was too bored to care. For a brief moment, Diana considered finding another mark, but that was a bad idea. Like it or not, she’d be on this boat for the next week. With nowhere to run if things went bad, it was best she pace herself. Which, again, left her with tragically little to do. Apparently relaxing was something people actually enjoyed? So far it had been nothing but dull. Not that Diana had actually been able to relax, it was impossible what with all the loud music and obnoxious assholes who peaked in college pretending they were frat boys again.

“Heya, can I get you anything?” Where had she heard that voice before? Diana raised her head just enough to peer at the source of the voice.

“Oh, it’s you again,” she replied. “Josh, right?”

The bartender flashed her a wide grin. “Wow you remembered my name! And we just keep running into each other, how crazy.”

“Mhm, it’s almost like you’re a bartender on a cruise ship and I’m an alcoholic who literally can’t leave.”

“Wow, yeah, it totally is kinda like that, isn’t it? You’re like, really smart aren’t you?” The possibility that this man had actually been making fun of her this entire time crossed Diana’s mind, then she remembered who she was dealing with.

“Absolutely,” Diana answered. “I’m so glad you noticed, you’re doing such a great job. Now can you be a dear and get me a mule and a margarita? No salt on the margarita, please.” She took care to speak as slowly as possible, so as not to overwhelm. Josh beamed, nodded, and went off to make her drinks.

With nothing to do but wait, Diana drummed her fingers against the bar, then pulled out her phone. Mid-way through unlocking it she remembered she was stuck on a ship miles away from any sort of signal save the one the cruise line charged exorbitant rates for. Entertainment was not worth the cost of her dignity. She groaned, and slouched forward, nearly fell out of her seat as the stool wobbled, and pressed her forehead into her hands. Completely out of other options, Diana rapped her phone against her skull, wondering if doing so hard enough might somehow cause lingering dregs of stimulation to osmosis their way into her brain.

The feeling of a finger tapping her on the shoulder pulled Diana from her moping. She sighed, straightened out, and turned. Some guy she didn’t recognize was standing behind her. At least, she was pretty sure she didn’t recognize him. Unfortunately he kind of looked like literally every single other twenty-something white dude. “Not interested,” she muttered, then resumed counting the seconds until she could have a drink in her hand. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem good enough. This time, Diana felt an entire hand on her shoulder. A low growl rumbled in her chest, so he was one of those. She turned again, looked him up and down, and leaned against the bar. She glanced over her shoulder a moment, then met his gaze. “Hey Kyle, do you see that metal canister next to the beer tap? The one with the little soda gun looking nozzle thing?”

Apparently that wasn’t the response her nuisance had expected. He looked stunned for a moment, glanced in the direction Diane was indicating, and gave an uncertain nod. “That’s not my name… but yeah. What about it?” Even his voice was as non descript as they came.

“It’s got liquid nitrogen inside. It’s like this thing they do at bars for people who care more about sharing trendy photos for internet clout than getting drunk. Anyway, I was just wondering, have you ever had an enema?” She gave him her best death glare, and started to turn, but this one seemed keen on testing her. He stepped in closer, and sat on the stool next to her, fixing his gaze on her.

“I’m not here to hit on you, lady,” he snapped. “You were with my brother James last night, weren’t you?”

Suddenly it became very clear exactly what this was about. She was hoping she’d at least get a few days of peace before someone caught on. It didn’t matter; he didn’t have shit on her. Diana shook her head. “I don’t know anyone named James, go bother someone else.” As she spoke, Diana’s hands casually roamed the underside of her stool, searching for whatever loose screw was the source of its wobbling. She wasn’t planning on pulling it free, nestling it between her middle and index fingers, then punching this dude in the throat, but at the same time, she wasn’t interested in being caught flat-footed by someone twice her size. Really, he just seemed kind of mad, and unless he got extremely aggressive with her, a throat punch without the screw would more than cut it were he to overstep. It never hurt to be prepared, though. At least, it wouldn’t hurt Diana, she couldn’t say the same about her new friend.

Speaking of which, he looked pissed. That sort of stiff, red faced anger that some men had when they were trying very hard to invoke an aura of quiet, calm rage like their favorite fictional badass. In practice, this guy looked more like he didn’t know how to unclench his jaw and could barely breathe from how hard he was struggling to hold in a fart. “Look, I saw you with him at the bar before I left. And he texted me last night saying he was ‘gonna score,’ so I know you were with him.”

Whatever this guy wanted, he seemed very serious, which didn’t keep Diana from laughing. Of course that asshole was the type of guy to text his buddy before hooking up with someone. “Okay yeah hang on. There was this one guy. Walks around with roofies in his pocket? Cums in his shorts from a pretty girl touching his face exactly once? Pale as a vampire and just much of a fucking creep toward women? Does that ring a bell? Cause there was a guy like that there, and he did kinda look like you actually. Not that that’s saying much. I thought his name was Erick, though? Do you have a second brother? Either way I don’t give a fuck, I’m not giving that creepy asshole his money back.”

Squaring her shoulders, Diana stared her assailant down. Undoubtedly, this would be the part where he blew up at her. Thankfully, she’d already tucked that loose screw into place—just in case. Only, instead of that anger boiling into white hot fury, the guy just looked a bit confused and upset. “Money—what are you? Did you steal from him? And what’s this about roofies? Did he—ugh, later. I don’t what the fuck is going on, but James never went back to his suite last night, and I haven’t seen or heard from him all day today. You’re the last person I saw him with, so I need you to tell me where he is.”

And suddenly, things were so, so much worse than Diana initially imagined. An angry brother yelling at her for conning his idiot family member out of his hard earned money? Diana could handle that. She had no idea how to approach whatever this was. “Listen man, I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, but I didn’t do shit to your brother. I left that bar with a friend, a girl, and had every intention of never speaking to him again. An intention which hasn’t changed one bit, I might add. So I’d suggest you go talk to the people whose job it is to find him. Maybe he wound up spending his night in the medical bay or whatever it’s called. Or the brig, where he belongs, for being a fucking creep.” Diana’s voice rose toward the end, she was getting fed up with this shit, and was not keen on having to explain herself to whatever power tripping weirdos who somehow couldn’t even hack it as cops that passed for the cruise ship security officers.

“Not good enough,” he insisted. “I already talked to his work buddies who also came along, to security, to everyone I could. Nobody has him. And he texted me last night saying he was going back to your cabin. Look, maybe what you said is true and he is a piece of shit, I don’t know, he’s always been distant. But he’s missing, and he’s my brother, I’m not gonna sit around doing nothing. Now I know you’re hiding something, so spill. What went on last night?”

Admittedly, he was right; Diana was hiding something. Part of her wondered whether it would be easier just to admit she scammed him so this asshole would leave her alone, but something told her that wouldn’t work. And some other stupid empathetic part of her told her that even if this guy was being a jerk, and even if his brother was complete scum, it was understandable for him to be a bit upset and erratic if his family member really was missing. Then again, fuck this guy.

The thought of escalating crossed her mind. It sounded more than a little tempting, but might land her in more trouble than she was already possibly in. Thankfully, before anything could really flare up, Diana was rescued by a familiar face. “Hey Di, is this guy bothering you?” Perhaps it had been the poor lighting the night before, or that alcohol, or that she’d spend most of her time seated, but Diana was only just now noticing: Ashley was tall. She had to be around six feet, and damn if she didn’t make every last one of those inches her bitch. And sure, the brother was also seated, so it wasn’t exactly surprising. But it was nice to see her standing just behind him, looming with a little glint of menace in her eye. Diana couldn’t remember the last time she was this glad to see someone. Of course, she had the whole situation handled, obviously. It was just nice to have a bit of backup.

Diana leaned back, locked eyes with Ashley, and talked right past Erick’s brother. “Ashley, darling, my knight in shining armor. So lovely to see you. I was just telling Ryan here that no, in fact, I did not spend the night with his brother.”

“My name is William,” he interrupted.

“Whatever,” Diana hissed. “God you even look like a William. Regardless, Ashley, you were there; I need an alibi. Did we, or did we not ditch count pre-ejacula last night, leave the bar together, go back to my cabin, and have passionate lesbian sex til dawn?”

Ashley stammered, flushing bright red. “I—wha? Um, yeah. We did that.” She glanced from Diana, to her bewildered, but certainly still pissed, unwanted company, then scurried over to Diana, sat down in the stool next to her, and took Diana’s hand. “She’s um, we’re seeing each other.” For some reason, the moment Ashley grabbed her hand was the most excited Diana had felt all day. She felt electric; she practically buzzed. And that was pretty weird, but there were more pressing matters.

“Exactly,” Diana cut in. “She and I spent the whole night together. So whatever happened to your bro, it had nothing to do with me. I have no idea why he’s missing. I’m sure he’ll turn up though.”

At that, Ashley perked up. “Wait, missing? That guy from the bar? He went missing?”

Exasperated, but seemingly at least a little relieved that at least Ashley seemed to be taking him seriously, William nodded.  “He did, yeah. I’ve tried texting him. I called him and it went straight to voicemail, which it never does. He’s not with the ship doctor, he’s not in the drunk tank, The crew have been looking for him since morning, and they haven’t found shit.”

A pensive look crossed Ashley’s face. She picked at her fingernails and bounced her leg in place as she seemed to mull the situation over. After a few moments of silence, she huffed, and turned to William. “Alright, fine, let’s say we take this seriously? What do you even want from us?”

All William could manage was a wild shrug. “I dunno, I’m grasping at straws here, this is the only lead I have.” He glared at Diana, who bristled, and poked him in the ribs before going on the attack.

“And I’m telling you that I don’t know shit. I neither can help, nor would. I simply do not care about your missing brother. But if you wanna play detective then go right the fuck ahead,” she cast a backward glance toward the bar, raising her voice, “maybe you could start with the case of my missing drinks.” With a huff, she turned back to face her assailant, only to find another newcomer waiting in the wings: a mousy brunette woman who withered at a single glance. “And who the hell are you?”

The girl practically stumbled backward, as if struck. “I um—I’m sorry, I just, I heard you say someone was missing? It’s just—my boyfriend Travis also turned up missing last night and---”

“Well there you go!” Diana exclaimed. Locking eyes with William and flicking the air toward the newcomper. “You wanted a sidekick, you’ve got one. Go play detective and leave me alone.”

Ashley took a step forward, laying a hand on Diana’s shoulder. “Come on, Diana. Two people missing on one boat on the same day? You have to admit that’s pretty weird.”

Shrugging off the gesture, she whirled on Ashley. “It’s also pretty not my job. Maybe her boyfriend decided he’d rather be on his own on this single’s cruise. Hell maybe those two eloped last night for all we know. Honestly, who do you think I am? Who do you think you are, for that matter?”

Ignoring Diana completely, Ashley turned to the new girl, who looked about ready to burst into tears. “Don’t mind her. What’s your name? Can you tell us anything helpful?”

“It’s Claire,” she muttered. “We were just spending time together in one of the lounges some time after midnight, and he got a text message. He got this weird look in his eye, kinda concerned? I dunno. I asked him what was wrong and he said he had a headache. Then he said he was going to the duty free on the sixth deck to get some medicine and he never came back.”

This look came over Ashley, like she suddenly saw the whole thing right out in front of her. She sighed, and shook her head. “The sixth deck duty free. That’s the one with the ATMs in front of it, right?”

Claire nodded. “Yeah, why?”

Ashley turned to Diana, and crossed her arms, raising her eyebrows. “What?” Diana growled. “Don’t give me that look? What does any of this have to do with—oh. Fuck.”

“So both of them disappeared around the same place. Possibly even the same time,” Ashley concluded.

“I still don’t see how this concerns me,” Diana grumbled, screaming at that stupid bartender to hurry up with her drinks. He probably forgot she even ordered them.

Not bothering to respond, Ashley turned to Claire and William. “We’ll help you, but your weirdo brother is on thin ice. And I’m kicking his ass when I see him.” Claire gave a grateful nod, William remained stoic.

“Wait, what do you mean we?” Diana blurted. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Ashley groaned, looking from Diana, to William, then back again. “Diana, sidebar?” she asked.

“Fine,” Diana turned her back on William, and leaned in close to Ashley. “What is it? I’m not wasting my time with this shit. It’s none of my business, and even less yours.”

“Listen, Diana, something weird is going on aboard this ship, okay? I can feel it. It’s just tense, like something’s about to pop. And I keep noticing all these things that are just off. And this? This is just the latest thing. I feel like I’m going crazy here. Something’s up, and I intend to find out what. And I dunno, you’re resourceful. You seem like you know how to look out for yourself, and you’re the only person on this ship I’ve met so far who doesn’t make me want to throw myself overboard. I could just… I could use someone who has my back.” Ashley’s voice was starting to waver just a little. That was when Diana realized she was really laying herself bare here. She seemed scared, worried, but also determined in a way that was genuinely admirable. She cared. Few people could cut right through Diana’s bitter sarcasm like that, and here Ashley was, doing just that with the sheer amount of authenticity and honesty she had on display.

Diana hung her head, and breathed a heavy exhale as she collected herself. A groan whispered in the back of her throat as she rose up to look Ashley in the eye. “Oh, Ashley.” Diana breathed softly, a hint of warmth touching each syllable. “No. I’m sorry, but no. It’s just not gonna happen. I’d sooner spend a weekend in the woods fighting off a cult of cannibals than do anything nice for that waste of skin. And—well—Claire seems nice enough but… listen, I’m not going into details, but I’ve been through this kind of shit before. Worse, probably. Hopefully. Either way, I’m not doing it again.”

Completely unphased, Ashley looked Diana in the eye, and blew her entire argument out of the water. “Diana, we’re going to be stuck on this boat for the rest of the day, and all day tomorrow. What the fuck else are you going to do?”

“God fucking dammit. Fine.” Diana groaned, and slumped against the bar in defeat. Why couldn’t her drinks have just come?

Chapter 6

When she was younger, Ashley developed a bit of a fascination with bugs. It lasted a few years, then she moved on to new interests, as children often do. At the time, one of her favorites had been the humble giant leopard caterpillar, so dark and fuzzy that—when curled into itself—it looked more like a dyed cotton ball than a bug. They were cute little things; Ashley had even held one at a butterfly garden once. Her parents had taken her. She was eleven at the time. Bright eyed little Deadname tried her very best to behave, to not run about the place from exhibit to exhibit. She’d even been—mostly—successful. But the fact that there was a no touching policy on just about everything in the place had been it’s own kind of torture for her young, hyperactive mind.

Thankfully, toward the end of the day, during one of those interactive funducational demonstrations which zoos and zoo-like establishments often had, she’d gotten her chance. A butterfly keeper brought out a selection of caterpillars to show off, and let everyone know that—if they wanted a chance to hold one—they could form an orderly line. Patience was never Ashley’s strong suit—still wasn’t—but she stuck it out. Certainly the wait was agonizing, as was the generous helping of condescension aforementioned keeper subjected to her. Apparently he’d thought she would need detailed instructions on how important it was to be gentle with the little bug.

Still, after much ado, the caterpillar was deposited onto her open, long-since outstretched palm, and given sixty whole seconds to crawl along her fingers to its heart's content. Hand pressed to her cheek, inches from her wide, unblinking eyes, Ashley had strained to take in every last detail: the movement of tiny legs, the wiggling, bristley body, the itchy tingle against her skin. She had gazed with the gleeful amazement of a child experiencing the subject of their special interest up close for the very first time. It was a good memory, perhaps cherished, even.

Really, in Ashley’s humble opinion, eleven was probably an all around fairly good age to be for most people—extenuating circumstances notwithstanding. At eleven, she had been just old enough to have a grasp on the world around her, but a comfortably loose one. She could appreciate the value of a unique experience, could think for herself, form her own thoughts, opinions, impressions. And she could do all that while still being free of a teenager’s—or an adult’s—angst and cynicism. Suffice to say it was the golden hour of her childhood. A bit younger than eleven, and Ashley’s memories grew too fuzzy to really mean anything, a bit older and… well.

A week after her day at the butterfly garden, that same kid who’d gazed in wonder as her favorite insect inched across her hand asked her best friend at school an innocuous question on a whim: was he like her? Did he think, maybe even fantasize sometimes—a lot of the time, every day, perhaps—about what it would be like if he were a girl instead of a boy? He didn't. And to be clear: that was hardly the first time Ashley had been called a faggot. Not even the first time her best friend had called her one. He’d meant it this time, though, and that was a first. A few days later, a couple of the kids who’d always liked to pick on her cornered Ashley after school. They confronted her about the rumors they’d been hearing. They confronted her over and over again; they confronted her in the face, they confronted her in the gut, they confronted her in the shins. Fast forward about two more years, and Ashley was sitting on the lip of her bathtub, razor in hand, wondering if she could dig deep enough to ensure the facial hair never grew back; thankfully she was way too scared to try. Ashley didn’t have many memories past that, not until she finally stopped being a ghost, and became a person.

So, in a few words: yeah, she fucking cherished that memory with the caterpillar. There was probably also a metaphor in there somewhere, she was too distracted to care. See, adult Ashley still knew quite a bit about the giant leopard caterpillar—not more than eleven year old Ashley. Probably less, actually, but she remembered enough. And, most importantly, Ashley was pretty damn certain that wild giant leopard caterpillars—as well as the adult moths they grew into—could only be found on the North American continent. Even if she was wrong on that account, Ashley was sure as shit positive that they were abso-fucking-lutely not native to the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. And yet, somehow, one had curled and died right on the upper lip of the Horizon Sapphire’s chief security officer.

She was pretty sure it was dead, anyway, it was wiggling a lot, but Ashley assumed that was because he was still talking. Much to her shame, she had dragged Diana up to the security office with William and Claire in tow, only to freeze right up the moment that simply insisting she be allowed to view their security cam footage from the night before proved fruitless. Then, for some reason, Diana, who had done nothing but drag her feet and moan from the very moment Ashley had conscripted her aid, stepped right up and began doing her thing. At least, she was trying to do her thing. Security man wasn’t buying it. First, Diana had tried the sob story, then the whole ‘is there anything I can do’ routine. By the time she was waving bills in the guy’s face, Ashley had begun to tune the conversation out, mostly because she couldn’t stop thinking about how much his mustache looked like that fucking caterpillar.

“Hey ma’am?” He was facing her now, shit. Ashey hadn’t caught a word out of his mouth in the past minute at least. And wait, was he saying ma’am or man? Wasn’t that just the eternal fucking question for trans people. It had been a few years since the last time Ashley was definitely, indisputably clocked, then deliberately misgendered by someone, but she was never more than a few days away from finding herself second guessing which pronouns a mumbling cashier had used. “Ma’am?” he asked again, louder this time.

“Huh?” Unfortunately, there was absolutely no way a person could ever say that word and give any impression they were paying a kernel of attention. Ashley shook her head, focused, and looked the security officer in the face. “Sorry, a lot on my mind.”

“I understand that, miss.” Thank fucking god. “Now, your friend isn’t listening to me. I have asked her to leave, and she hasn’t. I suggest you persuade her to do as I say, or she will be spending the night in the brig.” He had a very specific sort of condescension to him. The kind spoken through tight, puckered lips, and most commonly seen in men who really missed high school: someone who had pretty nothing going on besides the power over people his job gave him. And, most specifically, he spoke with the condescension of someone who wasn’t listening, scolding another person for not listening.

“Diana, this is a dead end,” Ashley grumbled. “Let’s drop it.”

Red in the face, Diana whirled on Ashley. “You’re serious, after all that, you’re just giving up.”

“I think we should go,” Ashley repeated.

“Yeah, I— uh, like I said, I talked to security earlier and they already told me they were going to solve this. I told you there was no reason to bother them,” William interjected. Judging by his volume, William was chiefly concerned with ensuring the boat cop knew he was some kind of upstanding citizen. The shifty, nervous look to him only solidified the matter.

With a huff, Diana looked to Ashley, then the officer, then Ashley again, before releasing a throaty half-groan, half-scream and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” the officer said. “As I said, you can rest assured. We’re looking into this; it just may take some time. There’s been a high volume of minor incidents since we left port, so my staff is quite swamped. And I’m sure you heard about that nasy incident on the climbing wall.” Ashley hadn’t, but she knew to keep her mouth shut when a power tripping forty something was lecturing her. “and we’ll get back to you as soon as we know something, okay? Try to enjoy your vacation, let us do our jobs.”  Each smug word out his asshole mouth made it all the more abundantly clear what had gotten Diana so worked up, but she saw no point to following in Diana’s footsteps.

“Of course, sir, thank you for your time,” she answered. She turned heel, and, after a quick glance to ensure William and Claire were following, strode toward the exit. As she stepped through the door, the officer called after her.

“Have a nice stay, miss. And be careful out there, we certainly don’t want anyone else to go missing.”

Ashley stopped short, and gave a furrative, suspicious glance over her shoulder. Then officer just gave a friendly wave. She bit back a response, and stepped out of the security office. He wasn’t worth it, and Ashley needed to catch up with Diana. To Ashley’s surprise, Diana didn’t go far; she was just waiting in the hallway, leaning against a wall-mounted railing. She was also in the middle of lighting a cigarette.

No doubt, the absolute fucking gall of the woman never ceased to amaze Ashley—a bad sort of amazement. And fine, the way Diana looked leaning against the wall had a certain appeal to it. Her head was turned to the side, eyes gazing into the far distance as she exhaled; one hand firmly gripped the railing, and the other loosely helding a smoldering cigarette between her index and middle fingers. It was a good aesthetic. Ashley didn’t really know what else to call it. She mostly just had this vague feeling.

To say Diana looked cool felt juvenile, but to deny it would be lying. In spite of everything, maybe even because of it, Diana was just too impressive for her own good. The worst part was she knew it. Just seeing her like that had Ashley feeling tight in the chest—or just awkward, maybe... something like that. Anger, though, she definitely felt anger, and anger was good. Ashley did her best to focus on that feeling over the others. Diana deserved her anger, dammit. Not a minute after Ashley had talked that boat cop out of locking her up, Diana was pushing her luck? Not only that, she was being such a fucking ingrate. The bitch wasn’t even looking at Ashley; Diana was too busy taking another drag to even look her way. Scowling, Ashley took a step forward and opened her mouth, only to be interrupted by William crossing into the hall, looking over his shoulder, and calling “thank you for your service.”

Smoke drifted lazily through the air as Diana breathed a lethargic exhale, then rolled her eyes. “For fuck’s sake Wilson you’re supposed to lick the boot, not gag on it.”

Thankfully, William didn’t get a chance to reply, as Claire followed just behind him, caught sight of Diana, and beat Ashley to the punch. “Hey, what the fu—” Claire began with a shout, before catching herself, rushing forward, and continuing just above a whisper. “Are you seriously smoking a cigarette right outside the ship security office? You do understand this place has designated smoking areas, right? He literally just threatened to lock you up.”

Shrugging, Diana put her cigarette out on the polished brass of the railing, took two mints from her purse, and leaned forward, extending her hand and depositing the remains of her cigarette in William’s breast pocket. She gave a dismissive wave of her hand, and responded in an equally hushed tone. “I wasn’t smoking, Claire. He was.”

Anger contorted across William’s face, and he stepped close, seizing Diana by the upper arms and pushing her against the wall. Ashley winced, and moved to intervene, but the look on Diana’s face told her there was nothing to worry about, nothing yet. Between the half lidded smile and the lopsided grin Diana resembled a spider playing with her food rather than a victim. That only seemed to upset William further. “Do we have a problem?” he snarled.

For her part, Diana watched on with mild disinterest. “I dunno,” she drawled in a detached monotone. “I mean, we can go down this road. I promise it won’t go well for you. That glorified mall cop might not like me, but assaulting a woman in a hallway that smells like cigarettes with a butt in your pocket isn’t a good look.”

Despite his obvious fury, William glanced over his shoulder, then lowered his voice. “You must be insane, stupid or both if you think one look at the cameras won’t prove you were the one smoking. Unless—wait a second.” He straightened up, loosening his group. “This is a ploy to get us in to look at footage, isn’t it?”

Diana snorted. “The fuck? No. Are you serious? He’s not gonna let us back there just cause we’re involved more directly this time. Plus, he would be immediately suspicious. And I would just tell you if I wanted to pull something like that, not trick you. Besides what did you think would happen ‘hey mister boat cop now that we saw footage of me smoking and Wilbur man-handling me right outside your office, can you show us that other footage?” Diana leaned back, and tilted her head toward the ceiling. “Anyway even if none of that mattered, we’re in a blind spot. I promise you, I only did that because I dislike you.” Ashley had to wonder what had gotten into Diana, she’d always been a bitch, but this felt excessive.

“Can we fucking not?” Claire interjected. “William and I have missing loved ones, okay? We don’t need petty bullshit getting in the way here.” At least someone besides Ashley was talking sense.

Unfortunately, Claire went ignored as Diana’s quips only ignited further fury in William. He tightened his grip. “You wanna fucking test that blindspot theory?”

“Do you?” Diana raised an eyebrow, and smirked.

Tense silence followed, Ashley looked between the pair, praying she wouldn’t need to intervene. Each breath came at remarkable effort. And it wasn’t just an uncomfortable social disagreement, Ashley realized that now. That feeling was back; really, Ashley suspected it had never left, just faded into the background. Something was wrong on this boat, and every coagulated gulp of air on board was infected with its malaise. William looked about ready to throttle Diana, and Diana, she was reveling in it. That jagged, mocking glare of hers dared him, begged even. They ground together, two tectonic plates about to slip at any moment. Ashley held her breath, and before she even realized it, the moment passed. William gave an impotent growl, shook his head, and flung himself away from Diana. He took a few steps away, cast a wide glare over the room, then left stomped away without another word.

Once William escaped earshot, Ashley took a moment to process everything she’d just seen. And like that, she remembered she was angry. More angry, really, after all that. Diana didn’t seem to notice, she was too busy laughing to herself. She stretched out her back, then relaxed against the railing once again. That devilish smirk never quite faded. After one last self-satisfied chuckle, she spoke, seemingly mostly to herself. “God, it really runs in the family, doesn’t it?” She glanced up, locked eyes with Ashley, then flashed a dazzling grin. And damn it all, angry as she was, Ashley was starting to recognize that look. She had to know. But perhaps she could level the playing field a bit. She reached into her bag, rummaged around for a moment, and found what she was looking for.

Satisfied, Ashley returned her attention to Diana: half-dreading, half eagerly anticipating the response. She bit back a smile, and forced a sigh. “What did you do this time?”

Grinning all the more, Diana held up her hand, to reveal a brown leather wallet. She flipped it open, and removed the cash, before dropping it to the floor. “Lifted it from him while he had me pinned against the wall. Surprised you didn’t notice, Ashley.”

The most important thing was for Ashley to look angry and disgusted. She could be amused and impressed later. And without a doubt, she was angry and disgusted. It just so happened Ashley felt the other way, too. Clenching her fist, Ashley rapped her knuckles against her skull, grumbling to herself.

“Are you two just running a racket? Is that how you do things?” Claire fumed.

Another groan, and Ashley tilted head back, hitting the back of her skull on the wall in frustration. “Claire, I literally just met her last night, okay? Diana does things her way, but don’t lump me in with her.”

“It’s true,” Diana replied. “Don’t blame Ashley, she’s good people. I’m mostly along for the ride here.”

For whatever reason, that did it. Bristling, Ashley whirled on Diana. “Don’t you fucking come to my defense. I save your ass from the brig and you respond by lighting up in the middle of the hallway and stealing William’s wallet?”

“Actually that’s not all,” Diana mused. “I also planted one of his brother’s roofies in his pocket, just in case.”

“You’re fucking kidding me?” Ashley hissed. Diana remained unphased.

“It was either that or a mint. Not entirely sure, I was flying blind.”

Blood boiling, Ashley put herself right in Diana’s face, much the way William had been moments ago, though she kept her hands to herself. “William might be a prick, Diana, but that’s too fucking far. You wanna con rich assholes out of their money, fine, don’t frame some guy for a felony.”

Aloof as ever, Diana rested her head against the wall, and smirked. “You know, the last person who got in my face like this wound up down a wallet. One before that wound up down my pants.”

Red hot anger—and what definitely wasn’t a blush—swept over Ashley’s face, she shoved off the wall and huffed, taking a few steps down the hall, then turning back to face Diana. “The fuck is your problem, Diana?”

Diana tapped her chin, tilted her head, and stared off into space, making a big production of thinking all over, before nodding, and glancing back to Ashley. “About a year ago I went to visit my then boyfriend’s family. They turned out to be a demon-worshiping cult of cannibals, and tried to literally hunt me. I spent an entire weekend struggling to stay alive, and killed five people by my own hands. At least four others died from the indirect, but more often than not intentional consequences of my actions. That includes my now ex-boyfriend.” She glanced down, checking her nails with aloof disinterest, then shrugged. “I guess I never quite got over that.”

“Oh for Christ’s stake, we’re wasting our time with her, Ashley,” Claire snapped. “I know I’ve already asked a lot from you, but if you’re still willing to help me look for Travis, then can we please just ditch her?”

Ashley barely heard Claire. She didn’t know Diana, not really. What Ashley did know, is that the woman lied like it was her job; really, it kind of was her job. To say that, in the short time Ashley had known Diana, they’d developed some special connection which allowed Ashley to tell Diana’s lies from her truths would be absolute self-aggrandizing bunk. And yet, Ashley believed her. She could tell herself that there had been something about Diana, an air about her which had signaled to Ashley’s subconscious mind that Diana was like her, but Ashley didn’t believe in that pop-psy garbage.

There wasn’t a single thing Ashley could point to which justified believing in such an outrageous claim. All said and done, Ashley just wanted it to be true. She wanted to not be alone. Ashley stood in silence for a moment. She looked Diana up and down, pretending for just a moment that she was one of those hacks who deluded themselves into believing that they could look at someone’s body language and tell if they were lying, then shook her head. “No, Claire. We’ll keep her around. Diana will behave herself.”

“Oh?” Diana asked, interest suddenly peaked. “And why is that?”

“Moment of truth, I guess.” Doing her best impression of the con-artist bitch herself, Ashley smirked, reached into her bag, and withdrew her phone. “I’ve been recording you for the past oh, I dunno, minute? Two minutes? I got enough.”

With a gasp, Diana clutched at a set of non-existent pearls. “Whatever happened to two-party consent? There’s no way that would hold in court.”

“International waters, baby. Who knows what goes, it’s the wild west.”

Another laugh, and Diana shook her head. “Alright, you got me. What’s our next move?”

Unfortunately, it was a very good question. “I… well, I’m honestly not sure. Maybe we check out the supposed scene of the supposed crime?”

Claire huffed, shaking her head. “What do you even expect to find there? It’s a super trafficked area, I was there yesterday and there’s no way anything potentially left behind wouldn’t have already been trampled, cleaned, or just snatched up by random passenger.”

“There has to be something. You said you were there yesterday?” Diana asked. “What’s all over there?”

“I dunno,” Claire shrugged. “It’s just like a mini shopping mall, y’know? There’s an expensive jewelry store, one of those duty frees, some art boutique, a few restaurants. The ATM is there, of course. And I think next door to that is like a camera store?”

“A camera store?” Ashley repeated; Claire nodded. An idea began to percolate. It was a longshot, but maybe, just maybe. “Stores like that sometimes have demo models in the front window, you don’t remember if that store did, do you?”

“Yeah I know what you’re talking about. I’m not sure, maybe?” Claire chewed her lip, drumming the railing. “I think I remember seeing something like a camera with a tv display screen showing people passing by at some point, I don’t remember if it was at that store though. It was probably off at that time of day though, right?”

Stepping away from the wall, Diana stretched, then faced Claire. “I wouldn’t be so sure. It’s an adult only cruise, the shops are open pretty late, right? Maybe not past midnight for a camera store, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were still closing up at the time.”

If nothing else, at least Diana was being helpful. That was good enough for Ashley. "It’s a stretch, but it’s worth a shot, right? Plus, maybe one of the people working the shops saw something.”

“Exactly,” Diana agreed. “And, y’know, worst case scenario? I’ve come into a bit of spending money. I could go for some shopping.” She withdrew the wad of bills, and waved it, a gloating smirk on her face.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Claire snarled, taking a bold step forward, and snatching the wad of cash from Diana’s hand. As she did, Diana took a menacing step forward, but Claire held out a firm hand to stop her advance, starting Diana down. “This isn’t a fucking game.” She narrowed her eyes on Diana. “People are missing. Your self-aggrandizing bullshit maybe would have earned you some credit in highschool but you look like you’re in your late twenties at this point. Grow the fuck up.” She poked Diana in the chest. “And you,” she whirled on Ashley of all people. “You might not be her, but I can tell you have some weird hero complex about this. I’m trying to find my boyfriend here, not play damsel for you. I want your help, but if you’re just going to let your ego get in the way then go play hero somewhere else.”

Ashley opened her mouth to defend herself, then closed it, and fell silent. She wasn’t sure what to make of all that, but she wanted to help. She didn’t want Claire to face what she’d faced alone. Ashley nodded. “Alright, yeah, keep us in line if you have to.”

One curt nod, and a few taps of her chin later, Claire relaxed. She opened her hand, allowing the wad of bills to slide from her grip fluttering and scattering across the hallway. Worried, Ashley glanced toward Diana. To her surprise, Diana was just chuckling to herself. “I think I’m starting to like that one. She’s got a spine.” Without another word, Diana stooped, and began collecting her money.