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Maybe I’m holding back because I don’t want to be some cheap fling.
Ransom cuts those blue eyes my way and sends a sizzle down my chest, straight to my toes. On second thought, I should consider myself lucky that I have the opportunity to be a cheap fling to a man like him—a dead man no less.
“Set the captain straight, Trixie,” he says. “Tell him you’re not spreading rumors.”
“She is,” Tinsley doubles down. “She thinks we have ghosts on this ship.” She looks my way. “And in the event you’re not aware, Mrs. Troublefield—should an employee speak words that can cause contention among passengers, thereby creating a less than savory experience for our guests, then they are in peril of immediate termination.”
“I did no such thing,” I balk at the outrageous accusation. “This is all a big misunderstanding.”
“Technically—” Bess raises a finger and I shoot her a look that says don’t you dare.
The captain’s phone bleats and he glances down at it. “I’m afraid I’m needed on the bridge.” He nods my way. “I believe you, Trixie. I’ll chalk this up to a misunderstanding. If you’ll excuse me, a captain’s work is never done.”
He takes off and Tinsley stands as well. “I’ve got a disco party to tend to on the promenade deck.” She narrows her eyes on Ransom. “Speaking of which, the Cancel Culture Club is hosting a seventies night bash on night seventeen. So far no one has contacted me to cancel. If anything changes, I’ll let you know. Unlike some people, I am highly aware that you are in charge of this investigation. You can rest assured if any piece of information lands in my lap, I’ll be right there to land it in yours.” And with that little lap dance of a tidbit, she takes off.
Nettie shakes her head at Ransom. “And she’ll be sitting in your lap while she does it.”
“She’s done it before,” Bess says just as the waiter arrives and lands our appetizers on the table—veggie spring rolls for Nettie, steamed mussels for Bess, and crab cakes for both Ransom and me. It seems we have more than the dead in common. We share a love of crustaceans, too.
Ransom’s phone spins just shy of his dinner plate and he glances at it. “I’m afraid I’m out, too, ladies.”
“Is it the case?” I ask. “Something new has cropped up, hasn’t it?”
His chest expands as he rises to his feet. “It’s regarding the case, yes. But it’s nothing significant. Please, try to enjoy your night. And above all, keep safe.” He says those last words directed right at me. “I’ll see you soon.”
He takes off and Nettie leans my way. “You’d better make it sooner than later, Toots. Tinsley thinks she still has a chance with him.”
“Technically, she’s already had it,” Bess says before indulging in that plate of steamed mussels.
“Well, her opportunity has come and gone,” I say. “Ransom is already taken—by me in the event you were wondering.” I chew on my bottom lip as I struggle to believe my own words.
It’s safe to say Ransom and I just hit a couple of speedbumps, like the fact he may not have a pulse.
Nevertheless, he’s right. I should enjoy my night. And nothing would bring me more joy than tracking down Jane Hunt and shaking a few secrets out of her.
And I’m going to do just that after I finish both my crab cakes and perhaps Ransom’s, too. Not to mention the flat iron steak and clam chowder I have coming. And then there’s that luscious slice of coconut cake I’m having for dessert.
There’s not a lot I’d let get in the way of me and a slice of light and fluffy coconut cake—certainly murder is no exception.
There will be plenty of time to hunt for my next suspect once I’ve put a decent meal inside me—and before I hit the lido deck for that lava cake, too.
If the last few months have taught me anything, it’s that life is all about priorities.
My fingers float to my lips for a moment. Because suddenly kissing Ransom feels like priority one.
Catching a killer and kissing a ghost—two things I never thought I’d have on my to-do list, let alone all in the same night.
I’d better add a second slice of coconut cake to my meal.
Lord knows I’ll need all the carbs I can muster to tackle both.
CHAPTER 8
After dinner, Bess and Nettie went straight to the show—Les Misérables, one of our faves. Let me tell you, that Cosette of ours can really belt out a tune.
As much as I wanted to storm the theater, I asked them to save a seat for me. I just had to check a few more hot spots on this ship.
Sure, the Emerald Queen is big, but it’s not infinite. Jane Hunt has to be here somewhere. So I did what any red-blooded American girl would do. I bribed my bestie by telling her I’d give her the scoop on Ransom’s night moves if she procured Jane’s cabin number for me. Let’s just say Elodie pulled a few strings and I got the number in less than five minutes flat.
