Page 17 of Tiki Hut Tragedy (Cruise Director Millie Mysteries #6)

“Have you visited this island before?” Pastor Haakenson quickened his pace, struggling to keep up with Millie’s fast steps.

“Nope.” She patted her pocket. “But after you agreed to go exploring with me this morning, I did some research and have our route mapped out.”

Reaching the end of the dock, they passed by a cluster of gift shops. On the other side was the security checkpoint that opened onto a sidewalk.

Taxis and cabs lined both sides of the street. “Taxi here! Mister and misses, I have the best taxi rates in the city,” a driver called out, frantically trying to get them to stop and chat.

The pastor slowed .

“Keep going,” Millie whispered. “The guides can be pushy on the islands.”

Noting the pastor’s hesitation, the man began following them, discounting the original rate he’d stated. “I will be your personal guide to keep you safe in the Dominican Republic. It is not wise to venture off on your own.”

“We’re going to Umbrella Street.” Millie made the mistake of engaging, which only emboldened the aggressive entrepreneur.

“I will take you to Playa Dorada, the best beach in the world.”

“We’re not dressed for a beach day.”

“But you don’t have to swim. It is bea-youuuuu-teeful just to look at.”

Millie didn’t answer. Intentionally focusing straight ahead of her, she figured he would get the message and eventually give up. He didn’t. Instead, he grabbed her arm .

She jerked back and spun around to face him. “I can see you’re a hardworking man who is just trying to make a living. However, we are not interested. If you touch me again, I’m going to flag down the police.”

The man muttered a word that rhymed with snitch and stalked off.

The pastor moved closer to Millie, standing between her and the other locals hawking their services. “You weren’t exaggerating. The vendors here are very aggressive.”

“Where’s Annette when you need her?” Millie sighed.

“Who is Annette?”

“Annette Delacroix, my friend who also happens to be the director of food and beverages on board the ship.”

“I’ve heard you mention her before. Her name sounds familiar. She may have attended a church service. ”

“She has.” Millie shared the story of her first visit to Jamaica and almost being mugged. “Annette scared them off.”

“What you’re saying is she would be a good person to have along on this adventure,” the pastor joked.

“Yep. A firm ‘no’ usually does the trick, but sometimes you get an overly eager vendor who won’t give up.”

Reaching the main drag, they made another turn, passing by a pair of gun-toting uniformed officers.

A crumbling concrete building was directly to their left, and Millie briefly wondered if they had taken a wrong turn. Up ahead, she noticed a group of tourists gathered on the corner. “I think we’re close.”

In a few short steps, much to Millie’s relief, she and the pastor reached Umbrella Street. “This is neat.” She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and snapped a photo of the umbrellas strung from metal bars, a rainbow of colors—green, red, yellow and blue.

They posed for a quick selfie and meandered along the walkway. Quaint cafés and businesses, a blend of old shops in hues of vivid red and mustard yellow, lined both sides.

Salsa music played in the background. Millie paused to watch locals dance to merengue and bachata, the Dominican Republic’s music. It was a tune she’d heard before, and she hummed along.

“Shirley would have loved this place,” the pastor said wistfully. “The vibrant colors, the music, the sights and sounds.”

“She liked to travel?”

“Loved it. Unfortunately, we never had a lot of extra money or time off to explore.”

“I’m sure she’s up in heaven right now smiling down. ”

“I hope so. I’ll admit I feel a little guilty.”

“Survivor’s guilt,” Millie said. “I might be overstepping my boundaries, but I’m beginning to notice something.”

“Which is?”

“You haven’t given yourself permission to enjoy life again.”

The pastor grew quiet. “You’re right. I’m still mourning her death.”

“Because you loved her,” Millie said softly. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have moments of joy.”

The pungent aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air. “This shop smells like my kind of place.”

“Coffee,” the pastor said. “Let me treat you to a cup. It will be my way of thanking you for dragging me off the ship.”

She laughed out loud. “Maybe not dragging but definitely persuading. ”

They stepped inside the cozy shop. A square sign hung on the wall behind the stainless steel counter touting authentic and organic coffee.

Millie and the pastor promptly joined the back of the line. Reaching the front, they each ordered something different and then settled in at a table for two near the front window. While they chatted, she watched pedestrians stroll past, noticing an even mix of locals and cruise ship passengers.

“You’re a people-watcher,” the pastor observed.

“It’s a habit of mine. I love visiting new places and exploring.”

“Me too. I’m enjoying our outing immensely.”

“Good, because we’re not done.” Millie pulled a local map from her pocket and unfolded it. “Not far from Umbrella Street is Pink Street, which is where we’re heading next.”

After finishing their beverages, they exited the shop and continued exploring, weaving in and out of foot traffic. At the end of the block, they kept going, reaching the iconic Pink Street only steps away.

“Color me pink.” Millie twirled around, admiring the bright hues of pink…

the gate, the buildings, the brick street.

“This street has an interesting history. The official name is Paseo de Dona Blanca, named after Bianca Franceschini, Dona Blanca to the locals. She and her husband immigrated here from Italy and opened Hotel Europa in the late 1800s, the first hotel in Puerto Plata.”

“Which put the city on the map,” the pastor guessed.

“Correct, so Pink Street is in honor of Bianca.”

They walked all the way to the end, stopping occasionally to admire artwork and even a vintage pink phone hanging on the wall before wandering through several shops at the far end.

“We’ve reached the end of today’s sightseeing tour,” Millie said. “Unfortunately, it’s time to head back. ”

“And wade our way through the pushy vendors.”

“I’ve found they’re not as bad on the return trip, probably because it isn’t worth their time to sell us on something.”

The walk went smoothly and without incident. Only a couple of guides tried stopping them. Finally, they reached the security checkpoint and passed through.

“This must be where most of the passengers hang out.”

Strategically spread out near the port were swimming pools, bars, restaurants and even a lazy river, all shiny and new, a sharp contrast to the historic and authentic downtown Puerto Plata.

Reaching the ship, Millie dropped her backpack on the belt and grabbed it after passing through the scanner.

The pastor caught up with her moments later. “Thank you for inviting me to hang out with you. I enjoyed myself immensely. ”

“I’m glad you took me up on the offer and thank you for the coffee.” Millie promised she would check with Sharky to see if he had an update on the coffee machine.

“Or I can do it. I’m sure you’re plenty busy.”

“Actually, I need to chat with him about something else, so it’s no problem.”

Parting ways, Millie took the stairs to the bridge. She swapped out her street clothes for her uniform, freshened up and then made her rounds, starting at the lido deck and working her way down.

She reached the casino, currently closed while the ship was in port, and remembered what Astrid had said, how Dixie and Wendy argued over a slot machine. Two full days had passed since the tragic accident.

Thinking Patterson might have an update by now, she trekked down to the security department’s office only to discover the lights were off and the door was locked.

“Crud.” It took a minute for her to locate him.

“I’m in the crewmember’s dining room.”

“Even better. I skipped breakfast and am hungry. Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

“I’m on my way.” Millie arrived to find that the dining room was mostly empty.

Veering right, she grabbed a plate from the stack and filled it with ingredients for fixing a deli sandwich.

She added two heaping dollops of cucumber salad to the side of her plate and stopped by the beverage station for a glass of iced tea on her way to the table.

Patterson pulled out a chair, eyeing Millie’s full plate. “You weren’t kidding about being hungry.”

“I’m starving.” She plopped down and reached for her napkin. “Pastor Haakenson and I did a little sightseeing.”

“I met him last week. He seems like a nice guy, although maybe a little… ”

“Out of sorts,” Millie finished his sentence. “He’s struggling with adjusting to ship life.”

“If anyone can make him feel welcome, it’s you.”

“Because I know how he feels.” Millie assembled her sandwich, carefully placing the slices of turkey on first, followed by a thick wedge of red onion and a slice of juicy red tomato. She topped it with a piece of crispy lettuce before adding mayo and mustard to the top slice of rye bread.

“Your sandwich looks tasty.”

“Thanks.” Millie took a big bite. “It’s delish. I was thinking about the tiki hut death and wondering if you’d heard anything new.”

“Dixie’s death has been ruled an accidental drowning. No charges will be filed against the tiki hut operator, although he could be fined for not requiring his passengers to wear life jackets.”

“I wasn’t getting a warm and fuzzy feeling about it from the get-go,” Millie said. “I know eighteen is the maximum number of passengers allowed, but it seemed overcrowded.”

“I agree. However, the operator was within the guidelines. The bottom line is it was an unfortunate accident.” Patterson told her the local authorities asked for a copy of Sharky’s GoPro recording. “While I had them on the phone, I requested a copy of the toxicology report.”

“Which isn’t a bad idea. I forgot all about Sharky having recording equipment on his PRV.”

Patterson wagged his finger at her. “I can see your wheels spinning. Let me save you some trouble. I already viewed the footage. Nothing unusual occurred during the rescue.”

Millie thought about what Astrid had said, how Wendy and Dixie had argued in the casino. “Wendy and Dixie were cabinmates who didn’t care for each other. How easy would it be to knock a competitor in the water, knowing their reflexes were already compromised from taking the stomach relaxer? ”

“Your inquisitive mind never rests.” Patterson briefly closed his eyes. “This time, I believe you’re wrong. There’s not a shred of evidence that one of Dixie’s colleagues drowned her.”

Millie let it drop. Perhaps Patterson was right. Maybe it was merely a horrific accident. Still, it wouldn’t hurt for her to do a little digging around, and she knew exactly where to start.