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I spot Julia out there by the railing, but Jane and Nadine are nowhere in sight. Instead, she’s having a rather heated-looking argument with Travis Weatherly. She’s gesticulating wildly while cradling a bright blue drink in her hand. And judging by how heated it looks, Tinsley would be a welcome interruption. But something tells me Travis might be wearing Julia’s cocktail before that happens.
Once again, I try my hardest to make my way to the buffet, but a cast of thousands is having a go at it at the moment. Even if I do eventually make my way there, I doubt there will be anything left. Thank goodness dinner is in less than an hour. I can’t go more than that long between meals once I’m back on the ship—or apparently off of it. I may have eaten my way through Honey Hollow. But in my defense, Lottie Lemon had a bakery filled with delectable delights.
Another fifteen minutes pass and I can’t find Bess, Nettie, or Ransom.
A tall, dark-haired looker catches my eye from the back of the room and my mouth falls open.
It’s Ransom and he’s got that denim suit on again.
“What in the world?” A laugh gets caught in my throat. Maybe it’s one of those reversible numbers that has a different look depending which side you have facing out?
He winks my way and I laugh out loud.
He was pulling my leg. He knew what I was talking about all along.
I push my way through the crowd and head to the darkened corner of the room, but Ransom seems to have vanished. It’s so dim back here you can hardly see your hand in front of your face, not to mention there aren’t three people in the near vicinity.
As I turn to leave, my foot catches and I fall onto something soft and pink. My right hand does its best to stabilize me and it lands over something damp and spongy. I look over and to my horror, a face is staring back at me.
“Oh my word,” I wail. “I’m so sorry,” I say, struggling to get to my knees. “Can I help you up?” I offer as that face comes into focus, but the woman doesn’t move one notch. Her eyes stare out vacantly as a thin line of blue liquid runs from her mouth.
The bad blonde perm, those birdlike features. I know exactly who this is.
I reach for her wrist and search for a pulse, but there isn’t one.
A shrill scream comes from me in response.
Julia won’t be making lemonade out of the lemons life has handed her.
Julia Edwards is dead.
CHAPTER 3
Another sharp scream drills from my throat, and this time Bess and Nettie appear next to me, glowing like a couple of disembodied faces.
It’s dark in this corner of the Diamond Lounge. The Cancel Culture Club welcome party is still underway, and I’ve just found one of their own lying on the floor, nonresponsive and without a pulse.
“It’s Julia,” I pant to the women before me. “She’s dead. Please, we have to find Ransom.”
“You found another corpse without us?” Nettie grouses. “Some friend you’ve turned out to be. Greedy is as greedy does. I should have known by the way you hog those lava cakes at night.”
“Would you hush?” Bess swats her. “This is no time to discuss Trixie’s greedy eating habits.” She shrugs my way. “You could save a lava cake or two for other people once in a while.”
My mouth falls open as I look at the woman.
“Don’t worry. I’ll text Ransom,” Bess says, reaching for her phone, prompting me to do the same.
I turn on the flashlight app and quickly scan the poor woman’s face. Julia is pale as paper. The only color on her flesh is a trace of blue liquid streaming from the corner of her lips. Her fixed gaze locks onto mine and it feels like a sucker punch, so I force myself to look away.
Not two feet from her right hand is a glass tipped on its side with a few residual drops of a blue cocktail spilling from it. Lipstick is imprinted along the rim at various points and the ice in the glass is quickly melting.
Without hesitation, I take a few pictures of the glass and the woman along with the immediate vicinity.
“Nothing like capturing the moment for when you’re craving a little nostalgia,” Nettie chuffs.
“Trust me, I’ll never get nostalgic over death,” I pant just as Ransom lands beside me and checks the woman for a pulse.
“What the hell happened?” he asks, wild-eyed as his gaze meets with mine.
