Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
N eelie Holiday’s screams reverberate off the walls with a sharp, shrill sound that feels as if it’s piercing right through my skull.
“ Neelie ,” I shout. “Just take a breath and tell me what happened.” Or more to the point, the reason why she felt the need to expunge the life out of Merritt Garrett. Although let’s be honest, Merritt has given plenty of people more than a couple of reasons.
Neelie stares at me, her eyes wide and her chest heaving wildly. She clamps her hands over her mouth, muffling her screams into panicked whimpers. Her mascara is already starting to streak down her face in muddy rivers, and for a split second, I almost feel sorry for her.
Almost.
I glance down at the body once more and Merritt’s expression is serene, almost as if she’s simply taking a nap.
Another thought hits me. I suppose some natural malfunction could have taken her out just as easily as a homicide, but I have a hard time believing that. Merritt was still in her evil, vindictive prime.
Her bedroom looks neat more or less, the closet is open, and there’s a red lace dress lying on the floor next to the body. I can hear the shower running in the background and the room is starting to fill with steam. Something turquoise catches my eye on the floor next to the desk, just inches from the body. It’s a handful of what look to be miniature peacock feathers and they look vaguely familiar.
“Neelie, what happened?” I demand. “Did the two of you argue? Was she trying to steal Stanton?”
Merritt was nearly certifiable, anything is possible.
The blonde gives a few rapid blinks, her eyes focusing on me as if I’m her only lifeline. “I-I don’t know. I walked in and I just found her like this. I swear, I didn’t do anything!”
A slew of heavy footsteps echo from down the hall and I look up just in time to see Ransom rushing in with Quinn and Wes right behind him.
The three of them stop short as they take in the scene.
“ Trixie ,” Ransom pulls me close. “Are you okay? What happened?” His voice is low and tense as his eyes flicker from Merritt’s body to me.
“Trixie?” Wes looks stymied at me as he checks the woman for a pulse. “Quinn says you threatened to kill the woman.”
“I have it on record as happening twice,” Quinn says without missing a vindictive beat.
“I didn’t mean it.” I shake my head at him as Wes rises and steps to my side.
Ransom winces. “Bess and Nettie told us that you were on your way to exact your revenge.”
“What? No!” I pull out my phone and wag it at him. “I told them I was on my way to mend fences.”
“Or bury a hatchet,” Nettie’s voice cuts through as she and Bess come running in. “Right in the poor woman’s back!”
Quinn kneels beside Merritt, her eyes scanning the scene, her expression darkening. “Judging by those handprints around her neck, the woman was strangled.”
“Strangled?” Nettie looks from me to Neelie. “So, I see you had an accomplice.”
“Would you stop?” Bess says, swatting her on the arm.
“I didn’t do this,” Neelie shouts so loud I can hear the chandelier rattling the next room over. “I need to find Stanton. He’ll believe me. He believes anything I say.” She starts to dart for the door and Quinn pulls her back and begins to interrogate the woman.
Ransom pulls me closer, his eyes searching mine. “You didn’t...?”
“Ransom Courtland Baxter,” I say, choking out the words.
“I’m sorry.” He pulls me close before ushering Bess, Nettie, and me to the door. “I’ll handle things from here. And I’ll get your official statement once I’m through. I’ll find you later, okay?”
I nod, swallowing hard as Bess, Nettie, and I step back into Merritt’s overgrown living room.
Nettie gives me a sideways glance. “Well, I think it’s safe to say this cruise is off to a bumpy start.”
Bess huffs as she looks back at Merritt’s door, “So much for the mending of fences. Try mending a full-blown murder investigation.”
Nettie gasps as she leans my way. “Hey, do you see any ghosts?”
I shake my head. “That’s the strange part. Usually, before something like this happens, I have at least one supernatural encounter and I got nada.”
“Wait a minute.” Bess touches her finger to her lips. “Isn’t it supposed to be that the person the deceased loved the most is the one that comes back to help solve their murder?”
“That’s exactly the way it’s been happening up until now,” I say. “I guess there was no one that Merritt loved all that much who had preceded her in death. That’s tragic in and of itself.”
“It sure is,” Bess says.
“That only means one thing.” Nettie pulls us into a huddle. “We need to solve this case ourselves.”
“No, thank you,” I tell her, doing my best to back right out of that unholy huddle. “I’m sorry Merritt is gone, but I’m not meddling with her homicide investigation. And Ransom wouldn’t want me to either. Besides, I have a wedding to plan.” I frown in the direction of the hall. “Leave it to Merritt to upstage me one last time. Oh, that’s horrible, I know.” I press my hands to my face.
A couple of voices cut through the murmurs of the remaining guests .
“What’s happening?” Visalia, the blonde we met earlier, shouts as she and her friend Josie push their way through the small crowd gathered in the suite. “Josie said that Merritt is dead.”
The crowd goes on mingling, nonplused.
Josie’s face is pale. “We just heard. Is it true?”
“I’m so sorry.” I nod solemnly their way. “Yes, it’s true.”
Both women gasp. Visalia’s hand flies to her mouth, and Josie looks as if she might faint. They both try to make their way toward the bedroom, but Quinn steps out and holds a hand up to stop them.
“Everyone out,” Quinn says firmly. “We need to keep the area clear.”
The party seems to go on regardless for a few more seconds as the murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses continue in the background before Quinn manages to shoo every last living soul out of the suite.
We make our way out of the suite as well and I can’t help but glance back at Merritt’s door as a shiver runs down my spine.
This cruise has taken a dark turn, and I have a feeling it’s just the beginning.