Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
M erritt Garrett’s lips are on my handsome Ransom, and I see red—no, I see crimson, I see fire engine red with flames shooting from them.
I’m going to rip her head off and roll it across the deck like a bloody bowling ball.
I barrel forward, fully prepared to do just that, but before I can get my hands anywhere near Merritt's perfectly styled hair, Ransom plucks the woman off of him and holds her at an arm’s length with a look on his face that says he is not amused by her actions.
“I’m going to kill you,” I shout as I ride up on her, repeating the threat once again, and the entire party here in her luxury suite gasps.
“ Whoa, whoa, whoa ,” she says with a wicked glint in her eyes. “Take it easy, Trixie.”
She dabs at her lips as if she’s just spilled tea. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize who I bumped into. I thought it was Kimball.” She gives a little shrug, her eyes twinkling with a kind of mischief that I do not care for one bit. “Some of the good ones are still running around loose, you know. You can’t have them all, Trixie.” She laughs, and it’s like nails on a chalkboard to me .
She reaches for the book Ransom has in his hand and yanks it free before pulling a pen from between her bosom.
She winks up at Ransom. “I’m always prepared for anything.” Her voice drips with seduction as she opens the book and scribbles her name inside. “Remember that.” She hands the book back and blows him a kiss. “And remember that kiss, even if it wasn’t intended for you.” She turns my way and winks because we both so know it was.
The audacity.
The absolute gall.
Ransom’s mouth opens as if he were about to set her straight, but before he can say a word, Stanton strides up as if he’s marching in a parade. A parade headlining his ego—and that blonde who’s perennially attached to his side is his one and only fan.
“Howdy ho”—Stanton starts, his voice a pitch higher than usual—“looks like our caped crusader made it to the party. You really think you’re here to fight the bad guys, don’t you, Randy?”
He sneers at Ransom, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think Stanton was angling to get a bullet fired at him. I wouldn’t blame Ransom if he did just that. We could call it a misfire—or an early wedding gift. It would so be a gift.
Stanton sniffs. “You think you’re some knight in shining armor, running around this ship with a pair of handcuffs, just waiting to serve a little justice. Is that what it is?”
“Handcuffs? Now we’re talking.” Merritt openly swoons and I roll my eyes.
And I think Neelie just swooned a little, too. There goes the theory that the poor girl needs glasses.
“Stanton,” I snip. “Fighting the bad guys happens to be Ransom’s job. So, if you’d like to land yourself in the brig, just keep antagonizing us. You’ll get there soon enough.”
“He doesn’t have a reason to lock me up,” Stanton growls while smirking at Ransom.
“I don’t need one,” Ransom growls back.
“What are you looking at me like that for?” Stanton is insistent on egging Ransom on. “You want to take a swing at me? Go ahead. Let’s see how that works out for you.” Stanton wastes no time in butting his chest up against Ransom. “Go on and try it, buddy. Let’s see how fast I can sic my lawyers on you. I’ve got the money and the time to lock you up in our legal system for decades.”
“And you have two kids in college,” I remind him while pushing Stanton right off of Ransom. “Why don’t you take a step back, Stanton? You’re crossing every single line, and this ship hasn’t even crested the first night of the trip. This is my wedding week, and I’m not going to let you ruin it.”
“You’ve already ruined it, Trix.” Stanton puffs his chest out like some overgrown rooster. “You ruined things when you decided to walk out the door!”
“That was called an improvement,” Ransom shoots right back and Stanton lunges at him once again.
“ Boys, boys ,” a female voice cuts through the melee, and I look over to see Quinn Riddle stepping in with her red hair pulled into a high bun and a no-nonsense black power suit on.
Quinn is Ransom’s partner on the security team. She’s not necessarily a fan of mine, but I think it’s because she is definitely a fan of Ransom’s.
I can’t blame her for that. But right now, she’s got a look on her face that says she’s about two seconds away from dragging both men out by their ears.
“I knew this trip was going to be trouble as soon as I heard Trixie’s ex was coming aboard,” Quinn snips, crossing her arms and shaking her head my way. “Twice the Troublefield is never a good thing.”
“Tell me about it,” I mutter over at Stanton, who looks as if his head is ready to explode. And that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.
This isn’t the first time Stanton’s tried to make a cruise miserable for me, but I’ll be darned if he’s going to ruin this one.
Quinn leans in toward Ransom and Stanton, who look as if they’ve locked horns and can’t figure out how to let go. Which brings me back to that bullet with Stanton’s name on it.
“That’s it.” Stanton tosses up his hands. “I’m leaving.” He turns my way. “I’ll catch up with you soon enough.”
I frown his way because I happen to know it’s inevitable .
“Come on, Neelie,” he growls. “We’ve got better things to do.” He grabs her by the arm and she does her best to yank back her limb but to no avail.
“But I don’t want to leave!” she whines as he shuffles her out the door. “I haven’t even tried the caviar yet!”
Ransom’s phone buzzes, and he glances at it, his expression shifting from frustration to something more serious.
“I’ve got to go. There’s a scuffle on the promenade deck.” He lands a quick kiss to my cheek. “I’ll catch up with you at dinner?”
“Sounds like a plan,” I say, dotting him with yet another far more lingering smooch. “That’s exactly where I’m headed.”
Ransom strides off and Quinn is right there with him just as Bess and Nettie trot this way.
“Well, that was something,” Bess says, handing me a ramekin full of molten chocolate ooey goodness and a spoon. “Two men warring it out? You handled it well, Trixie.”
“No bloodshed—I’d call that a win,” I say, toasting her with my first bite.
Nettie nods in agreement. “And guess what, Trix? Your old friend Merritt just chatted us up. In fact, she likes us so much, she just offered to write us both into one of her murder mysteries!”
I flit my eyes in the direction where Merritt is currently holding court with a handful of men.
“I’d watch it if I were you,” I say. “She’ll probably land you both as the victims. She’s vindictive that way. And she is definitely not above a double homicide.” I certainly don’t like the idea of Merritt schmoozing with Bess and Nettie. “The only reason she’s being so nice to you is to get under my skin. She knows you’re my friends. And heaven knows Merritt is after everything I have—including the two of you. She’s a predator of the highest caliber. And she’s looking to steal my lunch, my fiancé, and my friends.”
“Well, she sure knows how to turn on the charm,” Bess says, looking back at the woman. “It almost makes me want to like her.”
“Almost.” I sigh.
And honestly, the way Merritt is working the room, I can see why everyone else is falling for her act. She’s charming, I’ll give her that. But I know better than to trust anything that comes out of her mouth.
The crowd begins to disperse as some of the people make their way to first seating dinner, and Bess, Nettie, and I decide it’s time to freshen up for the big event ourselves.
We head back to our cabins, but something keeps nagging at me as we go.
I’ll admit, I don’t like the way things started off with Merritt tonight—the drama, the tension, the death threats (mostly from me). It’s not what I want hanging over my impending wedding.
I pause outside my cabin just as Bess and Nettie disappear inside theirs, and I make a decision. I’m going to try to mend fences. I have a new life about to start, and heaven knows I don’t want to drag past hurts into it.
Heck, I might even try to do the same with Stanton. I guess my newfound delirium is spreading faster than I thought.
I shoot Bess and Nettie a quick text, letting them in on what I’m up to before turning on my heels and making my way back to Merritt’s suite posthaste. By the time I get there, the place is still bustling, but not as crowded as earlier. A few people are still lingering around with drinks in hand, chatting away, but there’s no sign of Merritt in sight.
I spot the hall that leads to her room and head that way. I bet she’s getting ready for her second act of the night—one in which she tries to land Ransom in her bed. As if that could ever happen. And knowing Merritt, she’s convinced it can.
I take a deep breath and head in that direction, giving a few brisk knocks on her bedroom door. I wait for a response, but I’m met with silence.
Maybe she’s already landed herself a gentleman caller for the night?
Maybe it’s poor Kimball.
In that case, I’d better rescue him.
I knock again, a little louder this time. Still nothing. My hand hovers over the doorknob, and I hesitate for a moment before pushing it open.
The door swings wide, and my heart skips a beat.
Lying on the floor with her dark hair spilled around her like a nefarious halo is none other than Merritt herself. And standing next to her is an all too familiar blonde who looks stunned to see me—Neelie Holiday.
“What happened?” I call out as I fall on my knees next to Merritt. “What did you do?” I check for a pulse and gasp. “You killed her!”
“I did?” Neelie jumps back. “She can’t be gone.”
“She is.”
Neelie belts out an ear-piercing scream.
Sadly, there won’t be any mending of the fences as far as Merritt is concerned.
This cruise just went from chaotic to catastrophic. And it’s only the beginning.
Merritt Garrett is dead.