Mary’s unease grew stronger. She’d worked with enough financial documentation at LSIMT to know that people didn’t typically forget authorizing significant financial transactions, especially someone as sharp as Diane had seemed.
“Maybe you should review the documents again,” Mary suggested gently. “Just to refresh your memory.”
“I suppose I could ask Colin for copies.” But Diane’s tone suggested she wouldn’t, or perhaps couldn’t. “He’s been so patient with all my questions lately. I don’t want to make him think I don’t trust him.” She winced. “I must be getting forgetful in my old age. In fact, I actually got my medication confused yesterday, and Colin had to sort it all out for me. “
Before Mary could respond, she noticed another regular breakfast companion was missing from his usual spot. George usually sat either near them or with them. His spot was conspicuously empty.
“I wonder if George isn’t feeling well this morning?” Mary asked. “I haven’t seen him.”
“I haven’t seen him either. We were supposed to play cards this afternoon, and he mentioned wanting to compare notes on a book we’ve both been reading.” Diane looked around the dining room as if George might materialize, with a distracted expression on her face. “I hope he’s alright.”
Their breakfast arrived, and they ate in companionable silence punctuated by occasional observations about the riverbanks visible through the windows. But Mary couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Diane seemed subdued, almost uncertain in a way that contrasted sharply with the confident, cultured woman Mary had met just days ago.
They were halfway through their meal when Colin appeared, moving with his usual energetic stride but wearing an expression of concern that looked slightly rehearsed.
“Aunt Diane, there you are.” He bent to kiss her cheek, then noticed her barely touched toast. “You’re not eating much. Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine, dear. Just not very hungry this morning.” Diane smiled up at him, but Mary noticed how her hand trembled slightly as she set down her teacup.
“Auntie, I rechecked your pills this morning. You didn’t take the little pink one. I thought you seemed confused earlier this morning,” Colin said, his tone gentle but with an edge of worry.
“I took all the pills that were in my little pillbox,” Diane said, her brow furrowed as she frowned.
“Now, now, don’t shoot the messenger,” Colin chastised gently. “I found the pink one on the desk beside your pill box.” He shot Mary a worried look before turning back to Diane. “Maybe you should go back to your stateroom and rest. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard with all these excursions.”
“I’m not tired, Colin. I’m perfectly?—”
“Aunt Diane.” Colin’s voice was firmer now, his hand on her shoulder in a gesture that looked supportive but felt controlling. “You know the doctor said you needed to be careful about overdoing it. You’re not as young as you used to be, and this trip has been more taxing than you want to admit.”
Mary watched the exchange with growing discomfort. There was something off about the way Colin spoke to his aunt, something that felt more like managing than caring. And the way Diane’s expression shifted from mild protest to uncertain compliance set off Mary’s instincts, honed over the years of reading people and situations.
“Perhaps you’re right,” Diane said softly, setting down her napkin. “I do feel rather tired. Mary, would you excuse me?”
“Of course. I hope you feel better after some rest.”
Colin helped Diane with her wheelchair, taking control of it in a way that prevented her from maneuvering herself. As they left, Mary heard him say, “I’ll handle everything today. You just focus on resting. That’s what I’m here for.”
The words were caring. The tone was appropriate. But something about the whole interaction made Mary’s skin crawl.
She planned on finishing her breakfast alone, giving her time to think about what she’d observed. But several people just entering the dining hall spied her alone and sat down at the table. While their conversation was delightful, she was ready to be alone for a while, wanting to mull over whether her suspicions were founded.
Mary said goodbye to her new tablemates, promising to meet them later for the card games set up in the library. As she rolled out of the dining hall, she decided to check on George. His cabin was on the main deck, not far from her own, and she rolled up to his door and knocked gently.
It took several moments before she heard movement inside, then the sound of someone fumbling with the lock. When the door finally opened, she looked up in surprise. George looked terrible. His face was pale and drawn, his usually neat hair disheveled, and he leaned heavily against the doorframe as if standing upright required significant effort.
“Mary,” he croaked. “Sorry, I’m not... feeling my best this morning.”
“I’m so sorry. What’s wrong?”
“Food poisoning, I think. That lobster roll at dinner last night must have been bad. I’ve been up most of the night being sick.” He grimaced and pressed a hand to his stomach. “Ship’s doctor gave me something for the nausea, but I’m wiped out.”
Mary frowned. “I had the lobster roll too. So did many others. Nobody else has gotten sick that I’ve heard of.”
“Well, I drew the short straw, then.” George attempted a weak smile. “I was supposed to meet Diane this afternoon for cards and to discuss that book we’ve been reading. Would you mind letting her know I’ll have to cancel?”
“Of course. Is there anything you need? Water, crackers, anything?”
“The cabin attendant has been bringing me supplies. I just need to sleep it off.” George’s face took on a slightly gray tinge. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to—” He didn’t finish the sentence, just closed the door hastily.