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“Anyway, I don’t know where Travis is.” She blows out a breath at the hungry breakfast crowd. “We’re supposed to come up with a game plan on how to tackle this murderous situation we’ve landed in.” She checks her phone once again. “He said meet me at Minty’s at seven-thirty and here it’s almost eight.”
“Minty’s is located near the atrium,” I tell her. “I’m sorry to say it, but you’re at the wrong location.”
“What?” She scoops up her purse in haste. “I knew everything about this trip was going to be a bad idea. This place is so big, not only will I need security detail, I’ll need a chaperone just so I don’t end up inadvertently walking the plank.” She jumps out of her seat, and I hold up a finger.
“Nadine, is there anyone in Julia’s private circle who had something against her?”
She sniffs as she looks around. “I don’t know. You can ask Jane. She was closer to Julia than I was. They were always whispering about something, colluding.” She rolls her eyes again. “I’m sure she can help.” She takes a deep breath before leaning in. “There were whispers about a secret. They may have even shared a few. I don’t know what that was about or if it would lead to something so dark as murder. But well, if I’ve learned anything over the past few years, it’s that you can never be too sure of who you can trust.”
“I’ve learned that myself,” I say as she takes off, and in her wake I spot my blonde bestie, Elodie Abernathy. She’s a pithy beauty who originally hails from South Africa and has enough tales from the testosterone side that could make any brothel blush. It’s a badge she wears proudly, and I’ve never judged her for it.
“I hear your killer instincts are on a roll,” she says, landing in the seat opposite of me with her coffee in tow.
Elodie’s pale as butter hair is clipped close around her neck, she has a pert nose, full hot pink lips, and blue eyes that are laden with wanton lust for the males among us. She’s dressed in her uniform—white blouse and navy pencil skirt—and has her nametag on display for all to see with the letters of her moniker in all caps and her country of origin labeled just below that.
I met Elodie at the Queen’s Mall during my first cruise, and we’ve been fast friends ever since.
“I wish my killer instincts would have stayed in Maine with my ex.”
“So go back and visit, bring the Grim Reaper with you,” she’s quick to suggest the killer move. “Then we’ll have a real party.” She toasts me with her coffee. “Enough about death. I want to talk about life, as in your sex life. What happened with Ransom during your getaway to Hippy Hollow?” She waggles her brows in anticipation.
“Honey Hollow. And spoiler alert? We had separate bedrooms, and it stayed that way for the entire duration. But I wouldn’t read too much into that. There was a body I stumbled upon, and, well, Bess almost got arrested for murder. It was a big mess for a while, but we managed to get it wrapped up in time to make it back to the ship.”
Her jaw unhinges. “Are you serious? What are you, some sort of bad luck charm or something? Don’t answer that. You’re here now, and so is he. You’re both seemingly serious about one another, and you’re both adults. Jump in the sack already, would you? And if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you took a few notes. My bedroom routine could use a jumpstart, and everybody knows Ransom has more than a few tricks up his sleeve, or should I say down his pants?”
Just the thought of what he might have lurking in his ghostly pants makes me hold my breath for a moment too long. Elodie doesn’t know about my own ghostly secret. It’s bad enough Bess and Nettie are in on it. And as far as I’m concerned, I’d like to keep the secret down to two.
“Elodie”—I lean in—“have you ever thought there was anything odd about Ransom?”
She’s known him for a lot longer than I have, seeing that they’ve been living on the ship for years together. The reason Elodie never went after Ransom is because she said they were too much alike—they were both notorious players when it comes to the opposite sex.
But since Ransom has met me, well, he’s stopped all of his womanizing, which might explain his newfound quest to see me in my birthday suit. I’m guessing a man like Ransom can only handle a dry spell for so long.
“Odd?” She squints out of a nearby window. “Sorry to say it, but the only odd thing about Ransom is the fact he took himself off the meat market. He never struck me as the type to settle down. But along came you.” She lifts her mug my way once again.
“So you’ve never seen him in, say, a denim suit? Or with a peculiar glow to his skin?”
She wiggles her shoulders. “Sounds kinky.”
“It’s kinkier than you know.”
“Don’t sweat the kinky stuff. That just comes with the territory with a man like that. I should know, I’m a woman like that.” She collects her coffee and stands. “But don’t get too kinky. I’d hate to see either one of you end up dead. And at the rate you’re racking up bodies, that just might be a possibility. Oh, and don’t be too surprised if a delivery of racy lingerie mysteriously appears in your cabin.” She takes off with a wink and my mouth falls open in her wake.
She’s right. At the rate I’m racking up bodies, I might just end up as another corpse in the pile. I would have disputed the notion, but let’s face it, my mortal demise is probably not all that far off in the distance. And according to those miniature stars that follow Ransom around as of late, he’s already met his.
Ransom Baxter is a ghost. And a randy ghost at that.
I’ll admit, I had a lot of expectations when I moved onto the ship, but having a dead boyfriend was nowhere on the list.
Now a dead ex-husband? Well, that was more or less a dark fantasy.
But at the moment, there’s another dead body that’s cluttering up my mind—Julia Edwards.
I give a quick glance around at the bustling café.
According to Nadine, Jane Hunt knew the woman best. They may have even shared a secret or two.
And I’m not going to stop until I know every last one of them.
