UnAlaska

5. Cask of Amontillado

August 17th

Brian and Laura walked together to the main dining room. Others started to filter out of the wide hallway and through large double doors to the dining room.

Brian turned to Laura as they walked. "I get the feeling you aren't the typical guest here. What brought you on to this cruise?"

Laura bristled slightly, crossing her arms and pushing down a small swell of insecurity. "Wow, Brian. We just met. What brings you to that conclusion?"

Brian paused and smiled sheepishly. "Maybe we should start over. Sometimes I can be blunt, but I didn't mean to offend."

Laura waved away his concern. "It's fine. I like blunt. I prefer it to guess work. But what makes you think I don't fit in? Walk me through it."

Brian took a breath and let it out through pursed lips. "Sure. You're younger than the usual passenger; we both are. You're traveling alone, as far as I can tell. I don't see a wedding ring. You're dressed professionally, not in resort wear. You look comfortable in it though, like it's a uniform. Your posture and way of carrying yourself make me think you were military or police." He paused. "Too much?"

Laura smiled slowly. "Okay, I follow. I'd put the average guest here at, what? Somewhere between retired comfortably to St. Tropez in your third marriage and embalmed to lie in state?"

Brian laughed an easy, comfortable laugh and the corners of his eyes crinkled. He scanned the group walking ahead of them. "That sounds right. But we might have a few working surgeons or lawyers in the mix."

Laura nodded. "Perfect. If I choke on a chicken bone in the dining room I can be resuscitated and then sue the cruise line."

"Exactly. One stop shopping." He paused. "But was I right about the rest?"

"Not far off. I was in the FBI for ten years." They reached the double doors of the dining hall and brian held the door open. "But I'm curious about you. Can you take as well as you give?"

Brian let go of the door as another guest propped it open. "Sure. Only fair."

Laura looked him up and down. "You're rich, but new rich. You have a smart watch instead of something like a Nautilus or a Submariner. So that tells me you work for money, instead of inheriting it. But you're at ease here so the money is great - phenomenal, even. Your clothes are casual enough that you work in tech. You asked about me traveling alone and you're flirting, but not well. For a guy in his thirties that otherwise has social skills and confidence, I would say you're divorced. I have a feeling it's recent."

There was silence as they found a nearby table and sat down. Brian turned to Laura again, and opened his mouth to speak, then stopped short. He pulled his napkin from the table and smoothed it on his lap and sighed. "You're good."

"I am. Did I miss anything?"

"Just one thing. I was a cop, too. Years ago, but it stuck."

"Huh."

Others sat down at their round table, smoothing their napkins and looking around the group of strangers. Laura scanned the large dining room, and out of old habit made a mental floorplan of the tables around her and the exits at the corners of the room. Her eyes trailed over mahogany and flagstone walls, dimly lit with gallery lighting. The kitchen would make an acceptable exit, with its open pass framed by an impressive wall of burnished copper. Across from the kitchen, two story windows framed the gently lapping Puget Sound. The room started to buzz with hushed conversation and filled with the soft gentle tinkle of stemware and glassware.

Brian cleared his throat. "So, what brought you on the cruise?"

A waiter filled Laura's water and another filled a small aperitif glass. Laura plucked the tiny glass, swirled the amber liqueur, and took a small sip. "Amontillado. Nice." She set the glass down. "Work, if you can believe it. But it's easy when you have a chef on board that knows the value of a good aperitif." She crossed her legs and gave Brian an appraising look. "What about you, Brian?"