Page 78 of Fire and Ice Cruise

Nicolette doesn’t turn around when we approach. She just keeps staring out at the darkening sky.

“Nice view, isn’t it?” I say, keeping my tone light.

“Stunning,” Nicolette counters, finally turning to look at us. Her expression shifts when she sees both of us standing there. “Well, if it isn’t both birthday girls. Welcome to the fifty-plus club. Fair warning. The wisdom is great, but the hot flashes can be a real killer.”

We all share a polite laugh. Surface-level and party-appropriate.

I take a breath and dive in. “Too bad Gideon isn’t here to celebrate with us.”

Nicolette’s expression hardens. She turns back to the window, her champagne flute catching the light. “Well, I’m sure wherever he is, he’s finding someone to make miserable.” She lifts her glass toward the window in a mock toast. “To being free of manipulative bastards.”

“He really did make you miserable, didn’t he?” I ask, watching her carefully for even the most nuanced glance.

Marina steps closer. “Nicolette, I shared a few things with Trixie. About what you told me earlier. About the tech CEO’s divorce. About how Gideon helped you leak information at exactly the right time.”

Nicolette goes very still.

“About how you’ve built a career on strategic press leaks during divorces,” I continue quietly. “Maximizing settlements by weaponizing information. It’s brilliant, actually. Morally questionable, but brilliant.”

“And Gideon was going to expose it,” Marina adds. “In his documentary. He told you he was including you as part of ‘weaponized scandal culture.’ It would have ruined you.”

I nod. “You would have lost all you had worked for. Your entire career.”

Nicolette’s knuckles go white as she grips her champagne flute.

I take another step closer. “Is that why you did it? Is that why you killed him?”

Nicolette gasps, an actual audible intake of breath. “Trixie? Are you serious?” She steps back, looking between us with something close to fury building in her eyes. “You both think I did this, don’t you?” She gives a laugh that sounds more like a threat. “You wish.” The words come out sharp, directed at Marina. “I didn’t kill him. I didn’t care about the documentary. In fact, I was rooting for it.”

I inch back. “That makes no sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” Nicolette’s voice rises. “I was ready and willing to sue the life out of him, no pun intended. In fact, I was already planning a class action lawsuit that included everyone he’d ever wronged through malicious intent. That man knew how to harness someone’s dirty little secret and turn it into a weapon of mass destruction. He built a career on ruining people.”

She’s breathing hard now, chest rising and falling, adrenaline surging through her words.

“Oh sure, he’d tell you to pay up to keep quiet,” she goes on. “But payment didn’t shut him up. He was cruel, rude, and downright diabolical.”

She pauses, collecting herself with visible effort.

“And you.” She points a perfectly manicured finger at Marina. “You’re just as bad. How dare you break my trust! I don’t suppose you filled Trixie in on a few of those gems you shared with me, did you?”

She turns to me, her expression cold. “Did you know your friend here is a wanted woman? That she’s running away from trouble so big it would make the eye of a hurricane feel like a welcome embrace?”

I gasp and turn to look at Marina.

Marina lifts her chin, offering Nicolette a pleading look that screams don’t do this.

Nicolette huffs. “But I’m not like you, Marina. I know how to honor a secret divulged to me in private. Now if you ladies would excuse me.”

She stalks off, her heels clicking against the floor, disappearing back into the glittering crowd without a backward glance.

Celeste materializes in a shower of hot pink stars, grinning as though she just discovered the key to the open bar.

“Well, well,” she purrs, looking between Marina and me. “If it isn’t the birthday girls. Having fun interrogating murder suspects at your own party? Very on-brand for you, Trixie.”

I can hardly hear her.

I’m staring at Marina, whose face has gone pale, whose carefully constructed composure is cracking at the edges.