CAMERON HARDWICK WAS not pleased to see that Gavin Gray was at the same lifeboat station where he was assigned. Hardwick deliberately stayed at the edge of the group, bored with the nervous giggling of his fellow passengers as they tightened the straps on each other’s life jackets and told stories of people they knew who were on a ship that had to be evacuated. Some idiot started singing “Nearer My God to Thee” in honor of the Titanic but finally shut up after a withering glance from the officer in charge who droned on about emergency procedures.

Gray was standing near the officer and Hardwick had a good chance to study him. His eyes narrowed as he realized Gray was flushed and a nervous tic was jumping under his eye. Something’s really gotten to him, Hardwick thought and wondered what it could be. This morning, Hardwick had observed Lady Exner and Regan Reilly in the breakfast area from across the deck, and from a distance had followed them to the lounge. When it became clear that Gavin Gray was going to stick with Exner for the exercise class, he’d left. Now, as he continued to study Gray’s distracted, tense face, his curiosity turned to annoyance. He knew what Gray was. One of those professional escorts ships hire to dance with the old hens. But that job certainly didn’t include Gray’s swinging his butt around in an exercise class. What was his big interest in Exner, and was he going to be another problem? Cameron decided it was time to get his hands on a key to Exner’s suite, and to the empty one across the hall. Quietly he slipped away from the lifeboat station and into the lounge. As he had hoped, it was deserted. Careful to be sure he wasn’t being observed, he made his way to the stairs and up to the top deck. The silence when he reached it convinced him that the on-duty steward was at the drill. Hardwick walked noiselessly to the small room that served as the steward’s station just down the hall and around the bend from Lady Exner’s suite. The door was unlocked. He slipped in, his eyes darting from desk to chair to file cabinet to the wall panel that would light up for room service.

Cameron went through the desk drawers. They were a somewhat untidy jumble of lists and regulations, paper clips and pens, crumbs and candy. The bottom drawer held a pint of Jack Daniels. Cameron lifted his eyebrows. A steward who imbibed on duty was probably pretty careless. Hopefully it’s the night steward who likes to drink.