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I pull out my phone and quickly pull up those loan docs that Jane was kind enough to share with me.
“These all look legit,” I say. “I mean, I’m no expert, but I certainly don’t see any monkey business.”
He peers over my shoulder. “Well, it turns out, they weren’t broke after all,” he says, pointing to the line where they both declare their monthly earnings. “According to this, they’re still raking it in.”
“Huh. You’re right,” I whisper as a thought comes to me. “Back in Maine, my ex and I were friends with a couple who lived down the street. They lived in a big mansion, drove fancy cars, and had their kids in a very exclusive private school. Then one day the feds showed up and hauled them both to prison.”
“For living high on the hog?”
“For lying on their loan applications,” I say, looking at the handsome devil by my side right in his gorgeous blue eyes. “Ransom hinted that he knew something was wrong with the loans. I bet this was it.” I suck in a quick breath as a conversation comes back to me and I quickly look up a certain uncle back in Kansas. “Oh my word.” I close my eyes. “I know who the killer is, and I’m pretty sure I know how they procured that poison, too.”
I glance around at the gyrating limbs as seventies rock music blares overhead.
The killer may think things are looking groovy for them, but it’s time to show them just how groovy justice can be.
CHAPTER 24
The night of Julia Edwards’ murder comes crashing back to me like a violent wave slapping over the shoreline, unforgivably powerful as every detail comes to light.
The terse talk of finances, the drinks, the red lipstick lining Julia’s glass, the killer’s trip to her cabin—the pieces to the puzzle were all here in front of me just waiting to click into place. And click into place they did.
I pull my phone out and quickly shoot a text to Layla down in guest relations. If I’m right, then the killer’s alibi for that night will lose water in about five minutes.
My phone pings right back, and sure enough, Layla confirms my theory.
“What is it?” Phineas hisses. That dark demeanor of his makes him look exactly like Ransom on any given grumpy day.
The Cancel Culture Club’s seventies extravaganza roils around us on the promenade deck as people get their boogie on to the rock music of yesteryear.
“That night in the Diamond Lounge—” I squeeze my eyes shut tight a moment as the images come to me in snatches. “Jane was about to take off to get a drink, and Nadine asked her to get one for her and Julia as well.”
“That means Jane had access to them,” he says.
“It also means that Nadine had intention.” I wag my phone his way. “And I have the proof she had the means to pull off what she did as well. I’d better find Ransom. Everything is falling into place.”
“Attention!” Tinsley calls out from the stage. She’s amassed an entire slew of neon glow-in-the-dark necklaces and bracelets, and it’s so dimly lit in here that’s about all I can see of her. With the pounding music and the glowing bodies, this entire night feels like a psychedelic dream. “Since we’ve already rid the deck of boulder holders, why not go down south? Panties, bikini bottoms, briefs, or boxers—bring ’em to the front and then take them right back where they belong because I don’t want ’em.”
“Good grief,” I groan to Phineas. “Someone needs to cancel Tinsley.” I crane my neck into the crowd. “But right now, I’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
I take off into a thicket of bodies and bump into what amounts to a steel wall of a chest.
“So sorry,” I say and I look up to see a familiar glowing grin. “Travis?”
“We have to stop meeting like this.” He chuckles. “And don’t worry. I’m not going to ask you for your underwear.”
“Nor would I give them.” At least not to him. “Say, Travis? I know that it was Julia who put this cruise together for your club, but from what I saw the night she was killed, she seemed surprised to see you. Did she extend the invite?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “She would have rather died.” He cringes. “Poor choice of words. Actually, it was Nadine who sent the invite. She thought this might be a way for Julia and me to mend fences. But well, we all know how that turned out. And I’m sorry about it, too.”
“If it means anything, I am as well.”
He nods as he takes off into the crowd and I look at Phineas.
“She did this,” I pant. “We have to find Ransom.”
“I don’t know where Ransom is”—he says, nodding to my right—“but I know where our top suspect is.”
I follow his gaze, and there she is. Nadine Dixon stands overlooking the balcony out at the dark, unknowable Pacific, holding herself with her arms as she stares pensively into the sea.
