It didn’t look like Chad Merritt was going to make his lunch date.

Instead, he woke up to find himself lying on a small bunk in what appeared to be a small hotel room. No, wait, not a hotel room…. a cruise ship stateroom.

Oh good grief. Or we’re assuming that’s what he thought as he rushed for bathroom to empty his stomach.

Earlier in the day, he had met Steve Day in the lobby of the bank. The member of the CSWA Board of Directors seemed surprised at first, but then friendly to his old boss. Merritt and Day had served in the trenches together as President and Vice-President in the early days just after the CSWA had gone national and then international. Day had always been a little touchy, maybe a Napoleon complex from his height (or lack thereof). He had moved on to found another company, a small securities trading firm, but had agreed to serve as a Board member.

Chad offered to take Steve to lunch, but Day demurred. He seemed in a rush… too much of a rush. They walked outside the bank, down Main Street, as Day headed for who-knows-where.

“I can’t believe you’re here, Steve. Mr. Bodden mentioned you to me after your last visit. You knew I lived down here… I hate that you haven’t connected.”

“You know how it goes, Chad. Those of us that aren’t ‘retired’ have to move quickly. Especially in my business – moving all that money around through trades.”

“I know, it must be brutal in this economy. In fact, after Stanley told me about your last visit, I tried to get in touch with you through your company.”

“Yeah, it’s been tough. We had to… restructure. I’ve moved to..”

“Cut the crap, Steve. What’s going on? The last time you showed up here was the exact same day of the hijacking.”

“Hijacking? What are you…”

“You were never a good liar, Day. Who are you working for and what are you down here doing?”

“This isn’t an Austin Powers movie, Chad. I’m not just going spill my guts because you want me to.”

“How about because I’m going to have the police detain you before you can get off this island? I just happen to be in good with the Chief of Police.”

“You’ve got no reason to try to…

“This isn’t the States, Steve. They don’t need a reason other than that a friend of the Chief said you’re up to something. Just tell me who you’re working for, Steve. Is it this ridiculous “Hacker” Thomas and Ivy told me about? And what could possibly be down here that you need to do for him?”

“I tried to keep it business, Chad. He’s been hoping you’d stick your nose in long enough to get involved.”

“Spill it, Steve. Who is ‘he?’ This isn’t some ridiculous angle from 1989. These are people’s jobs and livelihoods that are being affected.”

“Sorry, Chad. We’re here.”

“Here where? This is the bait shop. And I’m not letting you go any further and get off this island until you tell me what’s going on.”

Chad picks up his phone. Steve Day lunged at it, but misses.

“I told you, this isn’t some stupid angle or spy….”

Merritt stops talking as two large men step up behind him and hit him in the back with a stun gun. He slumps into their arms and they quickly carry him beside the bait shop, no one the wiser.

His gastrointestinal discomfort alleviated, Merritt comes out of the bathroom and immediately tries to leave the stateroom. The door is, of course, locked. No good kidnapper would miss that. And here he was hoping maybe it was a two-bit kidnapper like Marvin Parsons. No such luck.

Banging on the door didn’t work. Neither did trying the phone. Or escaping through the ceiling. He was good and trapped. Like a rat. On a ship. Going who knows where and run by who knows who.

The only thing to do – try and figure out who’s to blame.