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Bess nods. “If only fate would cut us some slack for once.”
No sooner does she say the words than a dark-haired sportscaster strides by, heading in the exact opposite direction of the tour group.
“Where are you headed?” I ask, quickly catching up, and with a spring in my step to boot.
I can’t help it. I always get excited when there’s a shiny new suspect in the vicinity.
He looks my way and does a double take at the three of us—four of us—as we follow him.
“Hello there, ladies.” He sheds an easy grin. “Don’t mind me. I love to explore off the beaten path. Feel free to join in on the fun—at your own peril, of course.”
An invitation to squeeze the brain of a potential killer? I would be remiss to say no.
A spray of miniature stars lights up the vicinity as a denim suit-wearing specter appears looking more than mildly annoyed.
“Trixie,” he growls as he floats alongside us. “What’s with the infernal heat? Even for the Tropics, this is flirting with subterranean insanity.”
“We’re standing on an active volcano,” I tell him without thinking it through.
Travis looks my way and nods. “And with the heat this giant rock is exuding, you’d think it were about to open up and swallow us down in a pit full of lava.”
“It might be cooler down there,” Bess says as her fingers work overtime to fan her face.
“It won’t be cool where you’re headed, Toots,” Sparky quips her way, and Travis chuckles.
“Say”—he glances at Nettie—“you’re pretty good at that. In fact, you’re better than my uncle, and he was considered a pro. He had a blonde companion much like this one. He did the comedy club circuit back east.” He gives a wistful shake of his head. “Poor Uncle Rooney.”
“What happened to Uncle Rooney?” Nettie looks more than interested in the man’s fate.
“It was a tragedy, actually—tragic accident as it were,” Travis tells us as we embark upon a sign that reads no hiking beyond this point, but we tread on despite it. “He had just come home from a late-night show and he fell down a flight of stairs in his home. Broke his neck. The authorities said the lights were on. We figured he was just tired and missed a step.”
“Or he was getting his just desserts,” Sparky says the words slowly before his brows bounce up and down.
“Nettie,” Bess hisses. “That’s beyond distasteful. This poor man lost a relative.”
“I agree,” Nettie balks. “I would never say a thing like that.” She pulls back as she inspects the doll at the end of her arm. “I don’t mean to scare anyone, but this handsome little devil might actually be a little devil. I haven’t been speaking for him in days.”
Travis belts out a hearty laugh as the stench of sulfur fills our nostrils. Not only does it stink like a vat of rotten eggs, but steam is coming up from the cracks in the ground at alarming speeds.
I get the feeling we should have heeded that last warning.
“That’s funny.” Travis shakes his head at Nettie. “My uncle used to try to convince us of the very same thing.”
Bess leans toward Nettie. “When we get back onto the ship, I’d stick to the elevators if I were you.”
Sparky sits up straight, his eyes clicking as he gives a hard blink. “Who says she’s making it back to the ship?”
Travis belts out another laugh.
“That’s all right,” Nettie says. “I’ve always wanted to know when my time would be up—and who would do the deed to bump me off.” She scowls at Sparky a little too long.
“Speaking of bumping someone off”—Phineas growls—“cut to the quick before I arrange for the entire lot of you to fall into a fiery pit. I can only take so much heat. There’s a reason the human soul suffers in Hades, and I don’t plan on suffering.”
I nod his way because the human body doesn’t fare all that much better.
“Travis, how are you and the rest of your club members holding up?” I ask.
He cuts me a look that could slice butter straight out of the fridge.
