Cooks Overboard Read Online Free PDF Page B

speak.
    “And hurry up! I don’t want you to die before you’ve put it where I can find it.” She headed for the stairs.
    “Slut,” he murmured as he watched her go.
     
    In her cabin, Angie took a bottle of vintage port and two stemmed glasses from a padded and lined wine-bottle carrying case she’d bought in the Napa Valley. She’d been warned ahead of time by her cousin Sebastian that on a freightereverything was bare bones and generic, so if you wanted any special treats, you had to bring them yourself. She had brought a bottle of white wine, one of a vintage port, and one of champagne, plus fancy stemmed glasses to drink them out of. She had planned to spend some romantic evenings with Paavo on this cruise, even if she had to set them up herself. But now they had a big reason to celebrate.
    She was sure she’d get used to Paavo the civilian, smiling and friendly around strangers, rather than Paavo the cop, who was constantly serious and cautious. The change was a shock to her, but a welcome one.
    She put on a heavy jacket, as did Paavo, and, leaving everything else behind, they carried the port and the glasses from the cabin down the hallway to the small outdoor area on the fourth deck.
    As she stepped out the door, she saw the blond steward leaning heavily against the rail.
    “Sorry,” he mumbled, then, swaying slightly, headed for the door she and Paavo had just stepped through. He seemed to have trouble finding the door handle, but he finally made it into the hallway.
    Frowning, Angie stared after him a moment. When he didn’t come back out, she guessed he was all right. Being ill, he must have decided to take the slow elevator to his room instead of the stairs, the way most people did.
    Turning her thoughts from the sick man, shepoured some port into each glass, then handed one to Paavo.
    “ Salute ,” she said.
    “To us,” Paavo responded. “And to our future,” he added meaningfully.
    They clinked their glasses together, her gaze locking with his as she took her first sip. Los Angeles might have been out there somewhere, but she couldn’t see it and didn’t even care to search. All she cared to look at was before her.
    Moments later, the door to the deckhouse banged open and, wraithlike, Sven Ingerson appeared. He was gasping for breath and his face had a greenish tinge. “I can’t….”
    They ran over to him, each taking an arm. “You need to sit down,” Angie said.
    “No. My cabin…” Ingerson swayed slightly as he rubbed his forehead. He seemed to have trouble focusing. “I did…powder…powder…I can’t…”
    “Powder? Medicine? Is that it?” Paavo asked. “Do you need some medicine?”
    “Yes, medi…God, my head!”
    “Angie, let’s get him to the chair,” Paavo said, leading Sven toward the chairs they had been using.
    “No!” He lunged for the railing, clutching it tightly as he started mumbling incoherently—but it was probably Norwegian, because it didn’t make any sense at all.
    “He needs a hospital,” Angie said, now really worried about him. He seemed out of his head.
    “No! No hospital,” he cried, leaning over the railing, pushing it hard against his stomach.
    “Let’s get him away from this railing,” Paavo said, “then I’ll go get help.”
    Angie nodded. “Please,” she said gently to Sven, trying not to upset him any further. “Let me help you to the chair. You need to sit. Or, even better, you can lie down in our cabin. It’s just down the hall.”
    “No, no, no. Mr. Reliable. Tell them…” Then he cried out in pain and dropped at her feet.
    “My God!” Angie cried.
    Paavo swiftly kneeled at the man’s side and lifted his eyelids. “He’s passed out. Go find the captain or first mate quick.” He began loosening Sven’s collar.
    Angie ran up the stairs toward the bridge deck, where she hoped to find someone in charge. As she reached the sixth deck, she saw Julio at the top of the stairs. “Julio! Thank God! Get help. Mr.