Page 108 of Backtrack

“There are cameras all over the ship,” Ajit said. “I was personally involved in mapping their placement. You will understand this, Marshal Cutter. I think of the cameras as intersecting fields of fire. No dead zones.”

“Unless your inside man did you dirty and erased the good stuff,” Lola said. Her phone buzzed, forcing her to get up from her plank. She held the phone so Cutter could see the caller ID. It was Alvarez.

Lola picked up. “Hey, Nancy. I’m putting you on speaker with the boss and ship security. Whatcha got?”

“Steven Cruz is an active fraud investigator with the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension. I have a call into his supervisor, but you know the drill; we’re still at work here for three hours when they’ve already gone home for the day. I can follow up with the emergency number if you need me to.”

“Please do,” Cutter said. “We’re unable to locate him and suspect foul play.”

“Copy that,” Alvarez said. “Oddly enough, Leo Bouchard alsohas a background in law enforcement. He was a sergeant with the Sulphur Springs, Texas, Police Department. Resigned eight months ago to avoid an internal investigation over improper use of a city vehicle.”

“That’s good work, Nancy,” Lola said.

“The dispatcher on duty happened to be his ex-girlfriend,” Alvarez said. “Talkativewould be an understatement.”

Cutter leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes to try and connect the dots. “Anything that ties Bouchard to Steven Cruz?”

“Nothing yet,” Alvarez said. “I’ll keep digging.”

Cutter thanked her and they ended the call.

“What’s next?” Cutter asked the group.

Ajit gave a contemplative nod. “We will find out who in my shop is deleting data.”

“And we’ll watch Leo Bouchard while he watches Joellen,” Lola said. “Maybe Nancy will come up with some connection to Cruz.”

“Perhaps,” Ajit said. “Deputy Teariki, I have to ask. Aren’t you worried about being trapped aboard the ship with a man who is apparently following you?”

“Not a bit,” Lola said. “Oh, I’m careful enough, but it’s worse for Leo Bouchard. He’s trapped on this ship with us.”

CHAPTER 49

The cruise line was all too happy to let Shayna and Ricky boardThe Polar Starin Ketchikan as long as they paid for the entire cruise. Shayna had booked at the last minute, leaving the only cabin left in her price range an inside—no windows—on the deck directly above the casino. The electronic bleeps and chirps of slot machines made it sound like birds or rats under the carpet. Ricky was already pissed at the world. Shayna died inside whenever she thought about the god-awful fit he was sure to throw later that night when they turned out the lights and all he could hear was murmuring gamblers and pinging slot machines. He liked it quiet as a tomb when he slept. Even the squeak of a mattress when she rolled over could set him off. She felt sorry for his cellmates over the years. Prison could not possibly have been that quiet. Sometimes it seemed like he just needed something to be mad about.

The bed took up most of the meager real estate in the cabin, but the cramped quarters didn’t appear to bother him. That made sense. He’d spent the last forty-five years in a cell far smaller than this. At least they had a private toilet.

Ricky threw his backpack against the wall and began to pace the tiny cabin like a clockwork soldier. Three steps took him to the head of the bed, where he turned, as if bouncing off the wall, to take three more steps to the wall at the foot of the bed. It couldn’t have been more than ten feet. Shayna scrambled to get out of his way, finding a spot in front of the bathroom, ready to duck quicklyinside if Ricky got tired of marching back and forth and decided to make an L toward the cabin door.

Shayna held her phone at waist level. Leo was on speaker with news.

Ricky paused midstep. His bottom lip twitched and curled. “You were supposed to kill her at the hotel!”

“The maid came up the stairs while I was heading to the room. Couldn’t risk it.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” Ricky groused. He made another turn to stalk back in the other direction. “You’re telling me Cutter is staying in a fancy room with that Hawaiian girl?”

“I don’t think she’s Hawaiian,” Shayna said. “You heard the way she talked when they popped Bart. Australian maybe—”

Ricky sneered. “I don’t give a shit where she comes from. I want to know why she’s shackin’ up with Cutter. It makes no sense. He gets on the ship with his wife but stays in the room with that … girl.”

“About that.” Leo’s voice came across the phone. Shayna couldn’t help but think he was being awfully damned brave when he didn’t have to look Ricky Pink in the eye. “I did some more digging about Deputy US Marshal Arliss Cutter. Turns out, he and Joellen—the wife on this ship—have been divorced nearly a decade. Looks like his next wife died—”

Ricky stopped pacing. “And just how did you find out all this new information?”

“Twenty-five bucks for a people search and background on the interwebs,” Leo said. “Nearly as good as my old police databases. Better, sometimes. You just have to know where to look.”

“Did it ever occur to you to do this people search a month ago?”