Strangers on a Train (Nancy Drew Diaries #2)(15)

I nodded, feeling a pang of concern. At least Max was the only staff member on our list who wouldn’t be traveling with the passengers. Still, if he was our culprit, that would mean he’d have plenty of free time to plan more trouble before we returned. And the captain had said "most of’ the passengers would be going on the land tour. What if Wendy was planning to save money by skipping it and staying behind on the ship? Or what if Fred decided he’d rather hang out with his pals in the kitchen than go with the rest of us? I wondered whether one of us should stay behind on the ship just in case.

Reaching into my pocket, I touched my phone. Maybe I should text Becca and get her advice about what to do. Before I could decide, the lights dimmed again and raucous music poured out of the speakers. I realized the captain had left the stage, and it was time for Merk’s show to start.

The comedian strode out with a cocky grin on his face. "Welcome, ladies and grunts!” he shouted. "I hope you’re enjoying your stay on the Arctic Star, where the drinks are cold and the passengers are old.”

"Ba-dum-bum,” George said with a grin, while people all around us laughed, booed, or cheered.



The show continued from there. My friends seemed to be enjoying themselves, laughing and clapping and letting out hoots of approval. But I couldn’t seem to focus on the comedian’s act.



"Be right back,” I hissed at George.

Luckily, we were near the end of our row, so I only had to climb over her and a few other people to get out. Soon I was in the hushed, carpeted hallway outside the theater. An older man was out there, fiddling with his hearing aid.

"Funny show, eh?” he said conversationally. "Just wish I could hear it a bit better.”

"Yeah, it’s great. Excuse me, I need to find the ladies’ room.” I smiled at the man, then hurried off around the nearest comer. Pulling out my phone, I started tapping out a message to Becca as I walked.

A moment later, the sound of muffled but excited-sounding voices pulled my attention away from my text. Where was that coming from?

There was a door standing ajar just ahead; the voices were coming from that direction. Curious, I hurried forward and peered in.

The door opened into what looked like some kind of meeting room. About a dozen people were inside, gathered around a large, polished wooden table. Most of them were dressed in ship uniforms, but the person standing at the head of the table was wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt.

Fred looked up and saw me staring in at him. His face twisted into a scowl.



"Why do you keep turning up everywhere I look?” he exclaimed, jabbing a finger in my direction. "If you’re spying on me, you’ll be sorry!”





CHAPTER SIX




Sharp Questions



“WH-WHAT?” I STAMMERED, TAKEN ABACK. “Spying? Uh, no, sorry, I just... My voice trailed off. The other people in the room had turned to stare at me, and I recognized one of them as Daisy, our usual dinner waitress. "Hi, Daisy,” I said, taking a step toward her. "It’s me, Nancy.”

Daisy was popular with all of us for her bright smile and friendly attitude. But she wasn’t displaying either at the moment. “H-hello, Nancy,” she said quietly.

"So what’s going on in here?” I asked her, and glanced around. "Is everything all right?”

Daisy shot a look at Fred. "Er, nothing,” she said quickly. "It’s nothing. Everything’s fine. We’re just listening.”

There was a low murmur of assent. None of the other employees were meeting my eye. Then a young man stood up. I was pretty sure he worked as a lifeguard at the pool.

"Nobody here has agreed to anything,” he said, his voice quavering. "There’s no need to tell our bosses about any of this.” "That’s enough,” Fred said sharply. "You don’t have to tell her anything.” He glared at me. "Your cover is blown, young lady,” he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

I froze. Was Fred on to me? "I—I don’t know what you—,” I began.

He didn’t give me a chance to continue. "I’ve seen you talking with the assistant cruise director more than once. You two looked pretty chummy.” He crossed his arms over his chest. "You’re working for Superstar, aren’t you? Keeping the little people in line?

I hope you’re proud of yourself!”

My heart rate slowed slightly. “Huh?” I said. "The little people? What are you talking about?”

Fred rolled his eyes dramatically. "You can drop the act. We both know why you’re here. But you might as well give up. Unionization is coming—it’s right, and you can’t stop it.”

I blinked, taking that in. "Unionization?” Glancing around at the worried faces staring back at me, I finally realized what was going on here. “You’re trying to form a union?”

“Like we said, we’re just listening to what he has to say,” someone spoke up. “Please don’t tell management, or we could lose our jobs.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to get anyone fired.” I turned to Fred. “So you’re a union organizer?”

He still looked hostile. “Yeah. As if you didn’t know that already.”