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Good grief—or more to the point, good brief.
“I’ll pay for my own cruise,” I kindly tell him. “But since I’m a huge fan of treats, I won’t stop you on that front.”
“Smart lady,” Elodie coughs as she says it.
Wes nods my way. “I’m glad you’ll be joining us, Trixie. Have you been to Alaska before?”
“No,” I tell him. “But it’s been on my bucket list. I look forward to it very much.”
Ransom takes up my hand, and I give him a gentle squeeze because I’m looking forward to seeing what exactly those treats might be.
“Much like Hawaii”—Wes starts—“Alaska is a wonderland where nature is concerned. Even though we’ll be there during the summer months, we will be traveling through the glaciers. But the weather won’t be unbearable. We’re talking a low in the forties. The sun rises at about five a.m. and sets at about eleven p.m. It’s an adjustment, but all that extra daylight just allows for more fun.”
“Or more shenanigans,” Nettie says, raising her glass.
“To shenanigans.” Elodie doesn’t miss out on the innuendo while lifting her glass to Ransom and me.
Soon, we’re all lifting our glasses before diving into a surf and turf dinner that makes both the land lover and the sea siren in me more than happy.
After dinner, and a slice of the most decadent seven-layer chocolate I ever did taste, Wes holds out a hand my way and ticks his head toward the dance floor that’s taking shape in the middle of the room.
“Consider this my formal apology,” he implores.
“Who am I to turn down an apology by the captain himself?”
Wes and I slow dance to the music as he tells me all about the adventures he’s had in Alaska before.
“There are so many places I can’t wait to show you,” he whispers. “It’s magic, Trixie. It’s stunning.” He gives a forlorn smile. “It’s a lot like you.” A hand taps over his shoulder and he sighs. “And that’s a lot like Ransom.” He nods my way. “I look forward to spending time with you up north.”
“I can’t wait,” I tell him as he sails away, and soon I’m spinning in handsome Ransom’s strong arms. “Detective Baxter.”
“Detective Troublefield.” His lips curl on one side. “Please accept my apology as well on behalf of the Emerald Queen. I don’t know what Tinsley was thinking.”
“I can guess, but I don’t want to waste the energy. Believe me, I won’t be mentioning the word ghost anymore.”
At least not if I can help it.
His lips purse as he examines me. “I might bring one up—at least the ghost from someone else’s past.”
I cock my head, suddenly interested, and yet very afraid of where this might lead. The past isn’t exactly a friendly place—at least not in my experience.
“The day we were on Molokai, you asked if I was related to a man by the name of Phineas George.”
I groan without meaning to. Leave it to me to try to distract an FBI profiler by way of a poltergeist.
“I did a little digging.” His brows furrow. “Not only was he once Julia Edwards’ teacher—math, junior high—but from the picture I saw he—”
“Bears a striking resemblance to a certain detective I’m currently dancing with.” I wrinkle my nose. “I saw that as well.”
“Did Julia bring him up?”
“Actually”—I cringe a moment—“I believe it was Travis I spoke to about him.” I’ll let the facts die there. “So did you do a little more digging? Were you related?”
“Oddly enough, we are—or were. The poor guy is dead. Turns out, he’s my fifth cousin on my father’s side. Who knew?”
“It’s a small world.” I shrug.
He nods. “Too big when you consider it took the universe far too many decades to land you in my life.”
