Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
“ L adies.” Ransom nods to the three of us just as dinner arrives—a perfectly cooked filet mignon for me, drizzled with a red wine reduction and paired with buttery mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus. “You look beautiful.” He dots a kiss to my lips and we linger while Stanton gags on his meal.
“How is everything going?” I wince at my handsome fiancé. Ransom Baxter is pure perfection and a sight for sore eyes, especially after I’ve been forced to look at Stanton for the last twenty minutes.
“As well as it can be.” He sighs hard—part frustration, part exhaustion—and I know dealing with the fallout of Merritt’s sudden demise is already wearing on him. He lifts a finger at a waiter and points to my plate and soon his own steak materializes before him. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No apologies necessary.” Stanton doesn’t even look up from his plate of seafood risotto. “We’re just glad the hero of the ship has arrived.” He smears each word with sarcasm. “You can join us, but just don’t think you’re rescuing anyone here. Newsflash, Baxter: not everyone needs a knight in shining armor. But from what I hear, it’s Trixie who wears the cape in the family.” He gives a vindictive wink my way.
I know darn well that backhanded compliment he threw my way had more to do with tearing down Ransom’s masculinity than it did building me up.
“You’re right, Stanton,” Ransom says while slicing through his steak. “Trixie is an excellent detective in her own right. I believe the first investigation she solved was the case of the cheating husband.”
Bess and Nettie explode with laughter and I manage to bite down on a smile as I give my handsome hubby-to-be an approving nod.
Way to sling a zinger.
Stanton leans in, red-faced and angry. “You think you’re so smart.” He needles Ransom with all the malice he can muster. “I’ve heard about all the homicides that have taken place around here. In fact, I had a nice little chat with your pal Quinn Riddle before the ship set sail. She seemed to think you were letting Trixie here get away with murder. And seeing that there have been more than half a dozen dead bodies since she’s shown up on the ship, I guess that would make her a serial killer .” He shakes his head at me. “I knew you’d lose your mind without me.”
“Careful what you say,” Nettie says, holding her cutlery his way. “Bess and I know our way around a steak knife.”
A smile curves on my lips. “My money is on the one who knows how to use handcuffs. And boy, does he ever.” I wink at Ransom, and Stanton all but jumps out of his seat.
“That’s it. I’m heading to the bar,” he says, tossing down his linen napkin over his plate as if to prove a point. He looks right at me with a stern expression. “You’re about to make one heck of a mistake, Trix. Just like you did the day you walked out on our marriage. Twenty-five years and you just threw it all away.”
He stalks off.
“ Talk about fantasyland ,” Nettie shouts after him.
“Never mind him,” Bess says, pulling Nettie in. “Men like Stanton can’t see the truth because their ego is in the way.”
“Speaking of egos,” Ransom says as he looks up just as Wes approaches in his crisp white captain’s regalia.
“Good evening, ladies.” He offers a somber nod our way. “Trixie, are you all right?”
“I’m just fine,” I say. “Thank you for asking. ”
He gives my shoulder a quick squeeze. “Ransom, any updates on the situation?”
“The body will be removed first thing in the morning when we dock in Maine. Until then, we’ve secured the suite to prevent tampering.”
Wes ticks his head to the side. “I’m sorry this had to happen just moments before one of the happiest days of your lives. I will do my best to ensure the rest of the cruise goes off without a hitch for you.”
“Wes, that’s so sweet,” I coo.
Nettie leans toward Bess. “He’s still trying to woo her.”
And I swear Bess nodded in agreement.
Wes gives a curt nod before moving on to the next table just as dessert arrives—a seven-layer triple fudge cake with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream all around.
Champagne and cake—it feels like a party, and yet with Merritt departing this world in an untimely manner, I feel guilty enjoying anything, let alone the festivities that lead up to my wedding.
There may not be a ghost, but there is a killer among us.
And something tells me they’re not done yet.