Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
“ T insley”—I gasp as I thrust my hand forward and grab the king crab leg that was dangling midair just seconds before, right here in the Starlight Lounge where I was—as in past tense—enjoying the feast of a lifetime.
“ Ugh .” Tinsley flips her chestnut locks with a look of thorough disgust. “Double-fisting seafood, Trixie? Have you no couth? I still don’t know what either Wes or Ransom sees in you. And yes, I’m still counting the Captain in the number of buffoons smitten by your presence.” She waves a hand at the scrumptious offerings behind us. “You have no idea how much this costs to put on. The stakeholders of Royal Lineage are going to be royally pissed. I wouldn’t be surprised at all to learn they’ve deducted it from the Captain’s salary. They’re stingy that way.”
I drop my crab onto my plate—both of them.
If anyone can figure out a way to make me lose my appetite—albeit only momentarily—it’s Tinsley.
“What are you doing here?” I snip without meaning to.
Okay, fine. I so meant to. But can you blame me? She hasn’t even bothered to hit the buffet. It makes me wonder what kind of monster she truly is.
She leans in with a mean look in her eyes. “I need something from you.”
The picture becomes clearer. She’s the greedy kind of monster.
“Ooh, I like her.” Beatrice giggles to herself. “I was sort of a forceful witch myself back in the day when I was stuck in my size sevens. Geez, how I miss shoes.”
Honestly, shoes are so overrated.
I turn my full focus back to the witch before me.
“What do you need?” I snip again. I can’t help it, my filet mignon is getting cold. I knew I should have started there first. I still consider myself an amateur at these things.
Tinsley’s lips twitch as if she were hesitating. “I need your help to save this disaster of a bachelorette party. The head hen cornered me earlier and she’s charged me with turning their collective frown upside down. And you know I can’t stand a challenge I’m not equipped to take on.”
“What exactly can’t you take on?”
I’m pretty sure it’s happiness. That seems to be a foreign subject to her, by and large.
“I need you and those biddies of yours to rub elbows with the Bride Tribe and liven things up.”
“The Bride Tribe? Are we starting a reality show?”
“ Ooh , that sounds fun,” Beatrice says, reaching for a plate and I tap her on the hand. It’s always amazed me at how solid the dead can feel when they want to.
Tinsley scoffs my way. “Yes, we will start a reality show if it makes our passengers happy.” Her eyes bug out as she says that last word. And come to think of it, Tinsley might actually be allergic to happiness. “And if you think that’s funny, wait until you meet the Maids of Dishonor and the Bride Wars.”
“Sounds riveting,” I muse. At least she’s entertaining, which when it comes down to it, is all the ship asks her to be as the cruise director. “Okay, fine. We’re in,” I say, speaking for both Bess and Nettie—and probably the ghost to my left.
“Good.” Tinsley gives a curt nod. “I’m sure the newly crowned Queen of Foot-in-Turtle-Mouth-Disease will have them smiling until their cheeks hurt.”
I nod because it’s true. And I’m sure Nettie would accept the mocking title with pride.
“What’s this?” a female voice practically sings as my blonde bestie slips into the seat next to Tinsley with a cat-who-is-about-to-eat-the-canary look on her face. She’s clad in her uniform, as is Tinsley—both looking like the seafaring Bobbsey Twins with their tight white blouses and navy pencil skirts. “This tea looks piping hot. Do spill.”
No one loves gossip more than Elodie. In fact, gossip might actually be her middle name for all I know.
“Tinsley wants me to cheer up Jennifer and the Bridal Bunch,” I say, shoving another shrimp into my mouth just as fast as I say it.
Tinsley’s lips round out in horror. “I did not ask you to cheer anyone up. I asked you to take over and become the life of the party. They came to enjoy some raunchy bachelorette bash and stomp around the ship like a bunch of drunk sailors, not mourn the loss of one of their own. Besides, Hetty assured me that everyone agreed to put off all grief until we dock back in Florida.”
“She said that?” both Beatrice and I ask in unison, although they only heard me.
Tinsley nods. “They even sealed it with some sort of country bumpkin howl of approval.”
“The crow of the rooster.” Elodie gives a guttural chuckle as she looks my way. “You heard the woman.” She hitches her blonde locks toward Tinsley. “You’re to parade around this ship like a drunken sailor. If it helps, I’ll lead the charge.”
“Really?” I give a hopeful nod. “I could probably use your help. I mean, I’m not even sure if Bess and Nettie have thrown a bachelorette party in this century, let alone in their lifetimes. And my idea of a good time consists of this.” I pick up a crab leg for effect. “Please help. That is, if you’re up for the task.”
Elodie’s lips curl into a malevolent smile. “Oh my sweet, sweet Trixie. I am more than up for the task.” She rubs her hands together as if she relished the task and I have no doubt she does. “I’m going to whip up a bachelorette party to end all bachelorette parties. Last night of the trip, expect fireworks. I’m going to throw both you and Jennifer the bachelorette send-off of a lifetime.” She checks her watch. “In fact, you know those dirty lessons in love I was set on teaching you? I think I’ll extend my services to the other bride-to-be on the ship and the rest of her feisty friends. Ooh, if I act fast, I can order supplies to be picked up at our next port.” She takes off just as quick as she came.
“I’m off, too,” Beatrice announces. “I’m not waiting around for the offerings to dwindle. There’s a feast to be had. It does make me miss home.” She floats off for the buffet in a fury.
“We’re not done by a long shot,” I call after her in hopes people will assume I’m shouting at Elodie who also seems to have a knack for disappearing like an apparition.
“We’re not done by a long shot either,” Tinsley hisses my way. “Elodie’s perverted party isn’t until the final day. I need those women’s spirits lifted posthaste. You’re to glue yourself to their side and make the magic happen. Do you hear me?”
A sly smile begs to come to my lips. “Orders are orders.”
Tinsley stalks off—for the buffet. Clearly, she doesn’t have any pressing shopping needs to fulfill.
And just as I’m about shove another prawn into my piehole, someone else lands in the seat across from me.
Someone far sexier and far more delicious than anything on this ship. Okay, fine. This solar system .
“Hey, beautiful,” Ransom says with his bedroom eyes in full force before leaning in and landing a kiss to my cheek. “What was that about?” He hitches his head toward Tinsley with a mild look of irritation on his face. She does seem to have that effect on people.
“She commanded me to glue myself to the bachelorette party on board and try to cheer them up a bit. Oh, and Elodie offered to throw a proper bachelorette party for us all on our final night—and pass along a few naughty tips and tricks for the bedroom.”
“I’ll alert security.”
“I have no doubt we’ll need it. Why do I have a feeling penis straws and strippers are in my future?”
He frowns my way and looks heart-stoppingly handsome. “Have a good time.”
“That’s it? Have a good time?”
“I trust your judgment. And it’s all in good fun. Besides, Tinsley gave an order.” He casts a frown her way.
“What did the coroner say?”
“He said there might be two different prints on the knife, none of which belong to the victim. They’re sending it out to a more sophisticated lab on the mainland.” He leans in a notch and his lips curve at the tips. “What did Jennifer say this afternoon?”
“How did you know I spoke with her?” I give an open-mouthed smile.
“I’m everywhere.” He’s back to frowning. “Trixie?—”
“I wasn’t speaking to her as a suspect.” I cringe because I sort of was. “Technically, I was speaking to her as a friend.” Truth.
And then I tell him everything I gleaned from Jennifer, regarding both our friendly yet half-starved ghost and our unfortunate victim, Lucy Taylor.
“Beatrice hates Lucy?” Ransom looks equally puzzled by Beatrice’s harsh stance. “You know what that means. We have a ghost to grill.”
I look over just as he says it and Beatrice evaporates in a sea of hot pink stars as if she heard. And I have no doubt she did.
I nod over at Ransom. “We will grill the ghost. And I will stick to Jennifer and her pals like glue per the request of my superior.” I bite down a smile as I say it. “I am under orders.”
Ransom is back to growling. “And I’ll be right there with you,” he says as he lets out a breath and picks up my hand. “If only to keep you safe.”
Ransom and I spend the next few hours grazing our way through one of the best and most scrumptious gifts that Wes could have given us. And we finish it off with a taste of just about every dessert that’s present and accounted for. I eat my weight twice over in crème br?lée and molten chocolate lava cakes, and Ransom does as well.
Ransom is determined to keep me out of danger, to keep me safe.
Although no one was able to keep Lucy Taylor safe from a knife-wielding maniac.
But someone can ensure she gets justice. And I have a feeling that someone is me.
Bridal Tribe, here I come. And they won’t know what hit them.