way the ship could be locked down and searched before anyone disembarked. “Deal.”
Shaun nodded and locked his fingers together, stretching his arms in front of him. “All right. Let’s have a look at the folder, then. Maybe that contains some clues about why someone would go to the trouble of making sure you’d be asleep for a few minutes.”
Lexie glanced at her lap and at the coffee table where Shaun’s cup sat. “Don’t you have it?”
Shaun shook his head and pointed at her bag. “Didn’t you put it away when I brought the coffee over?”
Alarm bells rang in Lexie’s head. “No, I thought I’d look through it when the caffeine kicked in. It was right here, I had my eye on it when you handed me the coffee.” She refused to entertain the obvious notion before exploring all other possibilities.
She knelt on the floor and looked under the chairs and table, while Shaun stood and surveyed the area around them. They both came up empty-handed.
“It’s gone,” Lexie said, panic rising in her chest. “How can it be gone? I took a few sips and it sat right here, while you were—”
“Talking to security,” he said in a flat voice. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but someone may have come by and taken it. Best-case scenario, it was a passenger playing a prank, or someone mistook your folder for theirs.”
He left the other option unspoken, but Lexie saw it in his eyes. He feared that the man who’d assaulted her had drugged her so he could steal it while she slept.
“All my notes are in there.” Lexie groaned, reality setting in. “My photo of the girl I’m looking for, plus sensitive information on contacts.”
Shaun frowned and scanned the room again. “You left a folder with sensitive information on a table? In a public area?”
“I didn’t plan on falling asleep.”
“I only walked away for a few minutes.” He grimaced and ran his fingers through his hair. “Not good. Someone’s watching you. Whatever information you have in that folder, it’s important to them. Or they suspect it might be. Combined with the attack earlier, it seems like the situation is more serious than you thought. This girl might be in a lot of danger.”
“I know.” Lexie’s voice carried across the room, and she felt her cheeks warm as several passengers turned to look at her. “I know,” she continued, voice quieter. “But it’s not like I expected someone to drug my coffee. It’s not like I’ve done this before.”
“Done what? Look for someone?” Shaun’s eyebrows scrunched together as Lexie flopped back down into her chair. “I thought you said you worked for a missing-persons organization.”
She nodded, feeling a weight in her chest. “I do. But I haven’t tackled a search like this on my own before. I’ve spent several years proving I’m capable and trustworthy enough for a solo project, and now that I’m VP, I can’t mess it up.”
“Do you have a backup copy somewhere?”
Lexie shrugged. “I might be able to access some of it on my phone through email or cloud storage. The rest is on file at the office, which I could have someone scan and send to me.” She dug through her bag for her phone, hope surging—until she looked at the reception icon in the upper right corner. Still no bars. “No signal, but you’re right, I’ve had trouble getting decent reception for the past day or so. Maybe they haven’t turned on the wireless yet?”
“I think they have an internet kiosk elsewhere on the ship.” Shaun reached down and picked up her bags. “Let’s find your room first. While you’re getting set up, I’ll find out where the kiosk is and then come back to walk you there. Sound like a plan?”
Sure, except for the part where he watched over her as though she was a china doll. “I’ll be fine walking around on public decks. If whoever took the folder had wanted to hurt me, wouldn’t they have done it then? Why go to all the trouble of potentially drugging my coffee?”
Shaun adjusted her bags on his shoulder. “Because the room was still full of other people. The coffee was likely a crime of opportunity—which we’ll report as soon as we can. But if you happen to get lost down a corridor, or take a wrong turn and end up alone...” He shook his head when she tried to protest. “Maybe they only wanted the folder, sure. Maybe this is about something else. I can’t answer that, I can only assess the risk—and the risk here is losing sight of the possibility that it might not have been an accident, or that having the information in your file will incite a reaction.”
Lexie tried to come up with a reply that let him know how she felt about his insistence on trying to insert himself into a situation that didn’t pertain to him, when a muffled, crunching noise interrupted everyone’s conversations. The ship shuddered, and Lexie’s heart leaped into her throat. “What was that?”
Around the room, worried faces searched for ferry staff, while many of the passengers in the room continued as they were. Before Lexie could ask Shaun if he knew anything, he’d already flagged down a passing attendant.
“Ice,” he said, turning back to Lexie. “It’s normal during winter months, but if we can hear the cracking, it means we’re moving through a thick patch. The ship is fine.”
Lexie noted that he looked back at the attendant a second time and followed his gaze. Several people in employee uniforms were making the rounds throughout the lounge, stopping to reassure passengers who demanded to know what they’d heard. Lexie crossed her seating area to look out the nearest window, but it had grown too dark outside to see anything.
And then Shaun was at her side, looking outside with her. Much to her annoyance, having him nearby felt comforting. She blamed it on the lure of familiarity. Definitely not attraction.
“Nature is unpredictable,” he said. “But it’s winter, so I guess they expect this kind of thing. It’ll be fine. Let’s get you to your cabin.”
Lexie struggled for composure, not wanting to reveal just how scary the ship’s shudder had been. Her brain knew how unlikely it was for a ship of this size to capsize—and as far as she knew, there’d never been a serious accident on this ferry crossing route—but her legs felt shaky as the crunching continued at random intervals. She didn’t even have the strength to protest as Shaun touched her elbow and led her away from the window, escorting her through the ship’s corridors to find the passenger cabins on the deck below.
The cabin deck hallways were narrow, providing just enough room for two people to pass each other or for a wheelchair to navigate successfully. At room forty-two, Lexie dug the key card out of her pocket and unlocked the door.
She’d reserved the smallest, most austere room they offered—the coach of ferry cabins—and the bunk bed on the left wall gave the place a college dorm feel. The rest of the room contained a desk and chair, a little bathroom and shower, and a window that overlooked the ocean. It was no Hilton Suites, but it would do for an overnight trip.
“Thanks,” she said, when Shaun pushed past her to place her bags on the floor. “But you didn’t need to carry those.”
“It’s nothing.” He folded his arms and glanced around the room. “Basic amenities? And I bet you fly coach, too.”
“Of course. I’m being responsible with company funds.
