“Understood,” Mary said, though every instinct screamed at her to go to Diane’s cabin right now and get the older woman away from Colin before he could hurt her.
“Sadie will keep digging, see what else she can find about Colin’s and Frank’s background and the skiing accident,” Logan continued. “If Colin makes any moves toward Diane that seem threatening, then you intervene. Diane’s safety is the priority, as is yours.”
“Roger that,” Bert said.
They disconnected, and Mary sat in her wheelchair, staring at the blank screen and trying to process everything they’d learned. She’d been right. Her instincts about the photograph, about something being suspicious with Colin, had been right. The man they’d been watching might not be Diane’s nephew at all. He might be Frank Marcone, a man with nothing to lose who’d murdered his best friend and stolen his identity to gain access to a fortune.
“Hey.” Bert’s hand settled on her shoulder, warm and grounding. “You did good. Spotting that similarity in the photograph, making the connection about identity theft. That’s the kind of observation that breaks cases wide open.”
“I just hope we’re fast enough,” Mary said quietly. “If what we suspect is true, then Colin… or Frank has already killed once. If he realizes we’re suspicious, or if he decides Diane knows too much or has become more trouble than she’s worth?—”
“Then we stop him,” Bert said firmly. “Whatever it takes, we keep Diane safe until authorities can move.”
Mary nodded, but the fear sat heavy in her chest. They were so close to solving this, so close to getting Diane away from danger. But close wasn’t good enough. Not when they were dealing with a possible murderer who’d already proven he was willing to kill to protect his secrets. All they could do now was wait. Watch. Stay alert for any sign that he was about to make his move.
And pray that the fingerprints came back before it was too late to stop him.
32
Bert couldn’t take his eyes off Mary.
She was beautiful tonight, dressed in dark pants and a soft, deep-emerald sweater that made her appear luminous. Her hair was swept up in a way that showed off the graceful line of her neck. But it was more than just her appearance. It was the confidence she carried, the way she laughed at something Diane said, and the ease with which she navigated the conversation at their table.
This was the woman he loved. Strong, brilliant, capable. And his.
Part of him couldn’t believe that he had waited so long to work up the courage to let her know how he felt. But then… maybe the long months they spent getting to know each other as friends allowed them to reach this moment.
They were seated at dinner with Diane, George, and another woman on one side of the table, while Mary sat between Bert and Colin on the other. The six of them made easy conversation while the ship’s dining room hummed with the gentle activity of the evening meal. Outside the windows, storm clouds had rolled in during the afternoon, turning the sky gray and bringing a steady rain that drummed against the glass.
Bert glanced over at Colin, still wondering if he was Frank. The man who might be an impostor was increasingly animated tonight, his gestures expansive, his laughter perhaps a shade too loud. He seemed keyed up, energized in a way that set off every alarm bell in Bert’s tactical mind. He hadn’t seen Colin drink much, but tonight, he was talkative after his third glass of wine.
“The forecast says the storm should clear by morning,” Diane was saying, her voice bright and engaged. She seemed more alert tonight than she had in days, more like the sharp, cultured woman Mary had described. “I’m looking forward to our stop in Lunenburg. The historic district is beautiful.”
“I’ve been there before,” George added. “Wonderful town. Very picturesque.”
Colin leaned forward, his smile warm. “We should all go together. Make a day of it. What do you say, Aunt Diane?”
Bert’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Checking it discreetly, he recognized the number. Logan was calling, so it must be important.
“Excuse me,” Bert said, standing and pressing a kiss to Mary’s temple. “I need to take this. I’ll be right back.”
He moved quickly toward the exit, aware of Mary’s eyes tracking him, of the way her expression had sharpened with understanding. She knew something was happening.
The hallway just outside the dining room was quieter, though still populated with crew members moving between service areas. Bert positioned himself where he could still see anyone standing nearby while maintaining enough privacy for the conversation.
“Logan,” Bert answered, keeping his voice low. “What’ve you got?”
“Fingerprint identification came back from the RCMP.” Logan’s voice was grim. “It’s not Colin Morrison. The man with Diane is Frank Marcone.”
Though they’d suspected it, and even though Mary’s theory had made horrible sense, hearing it confirmed made Bert’s chest tighten with vindication. They’d been right. The man they’d been watching for days was an impostor and possibly Colin’s murderer.
“Frank,” Bert repeated, testing the name. “Okay. What’s the plan?”
“RCMP is boarding early tomorrow morning. The storm tonight has delayed the ship from docking, but they’ll be there first thing. They’re treating this as a priority… identity theft, fraud, suspected murder. They’ll have a full team.”
“Tomorrow morning. Copy that,” he said, frustration bleeding through despite his best efforts to stay professional. “And if there is a change?”
“Then you intervene. But Bert, if at all possible, let the RCMP handle this. They’re the legal authority, they have the jurisdiction, and they’re equipped to make an arrest that will stick.” Logan paused, then added more softly, “I know you want to move now. I know every instinct is telling you to get Diane away from Frank immediately. But we’re so close to having everything in place for a solid case. Don’t blow it by acting too soon.”