Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
T rue to his word, Wes leads us right into a laugh-out-loud funny good time—the late-night comedy show at the Jolly Jester Lounge.
The place is dark with a single spotlight on a redheaded man in a blue velvet jacket. The air is far cooler here than it was in the casino, and the scent of beer and onion rings enlivens our senses. And you can bet every last chip in that casino that Nettie puts in a double order of onion rings as soon as we arrive.
The comedian’s jokes are hit-or-miss, but the real entertainment comes from the audience—namely Nettie, who heckles just enough to keep things interesting without getting us thrown out.
“You call that a punchline?” she howls at the stage. “My uncle’s knock-knock jokes have more zing!”
“Nettie”—Bess elbows her in the ribs—“you only have one living uncle, and he’s senile.”
“Exactly,” Nettie retorts, and even the comedian tips his hat to her before moving on.
Once his act is over, the entire place converts into a karaoke bar filled with flashing lights, pop songs so loud that the walls pulsate, and an entire entourage of hecklers that make Nettie and her fabled uncle look like amateur hour.
Bess and Nettie head to the bar to load up on cocktails and more of those perfectly fried onion rings, while Tinsley and Elodie are up on stage, belting out an off-key rendition of “I Will Survive”.
I’ll admit, I’m impressed. I didn’t think Tinsley had it in her.
Ransom slips an arm around my waist and pulls me in close, while Wes winces at the stage as we take it in.
Wes leans our way. “Are they actually enjoying themselves?”
“Music works in mysterious ways,” I whisper, watching them sway to the beat while holding hands. It’s a strange yet endearing sight.
“Speaking of miracles,” Ransom says, leaning close. “You said there was a ghost, but we got waylaid. Care to share who the latest disembodied visitor is?”
I grimace at the two of them. “Merritt Garrett,” I say, keeping my voice low.
The captain’s eyes widen. “As in the deceased herself?”
“The one and only,” I confirm and Ransom’s brows shoot up.
“Sounds as if she’s back to pen the sequel,” he says. “This should be easy. Did she mention who was after her?”
“No. Her ego has grown twice its size without a skull to constrain it.” I sigh at the thought. “And she was only around when I grilled one of my two suspects.”
“ Trixie .” Wes inches back and inspects me as his eyes widen. He points at Ransom. “Don’t we pay you for this? Is that badge just for show?”
Ransom doesn’t look amused. “Do I have to remind you that I have a gun?”
“I didn’t actually grill anyone,” I say, trying my best to backpedal and maybe save Wes from mortal injuries. “I was teaching my class and Josie Coffee was a student. And, well, I ran into Visalia Jones at the Maritime Museum.”
Wes frowns. “I heard they had a run-in with a seven-figure disaster this afternoon.”
“They had a run-in with Nettie ,” I tell him. “And some might say she’s a seven-figure disaster. But fear not, Ransom ponied up enough figures to mitigate the damage and refurbish the place once a year into perpetuity. ”
Wes frowns twice as hard. “Big Bucks Baxter strikes again.”
Ransom made his money in real estate while working for the feds. Apparently, he knows how to make the right moves in business, much the way he’s rumored to make them in bed. And in exactly a few days’ time, I’ll put all rumors to rest. Although I have a feeling I won’t be resting much when I do.
Wes leans my way. “Trixie, I’ll be honest, I don’t like the fact that you might be getting close to whoever is responsible for landing Merritt in the morgue.” He nods to Ransom. “I’d keep an eye on her if you want her safe.”
“Speaking of things to keep an eye on…” I’m quick to change the subject. “Wes, is the ship repeating this leaf-peeping tour the next time around?”
“The next trip is our honeymoon.” Ransom lands a kiss to my temple as he says it.
“Actually”—Wes starts, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s a twinkle in his eyes—“I do have news on that front. Are you ready to hear about your honeymoon locale?” He pauses, letting the suspense build. “We’re repositioning the ship to England. We’re doing a ten-day transatlantic cruise, and I’m giving you both all ten days off.”
Ransom inches back. “I thought it took seven nights to do a transatlantic from New York to London?”
“It does,” Wes says without missing a beat. “I asked the cruise line for two extra days. You’re welcome.”
“Oh, Wes!” I practically wrap my body around his.
“And so it begins,” Elodie coos into her microphone.
Both Ransom and I thank Wes profusely for the kind gift.
“The two of you deserve it,” he says, nodding. “And what’s more romantic than a transatlantic journey? Endless nights at sea, the stars above you… It will be perfect. In fact, I wanted tonight to be a perfect night for you, too.”
Before I can respond, a strong gust, or more to the point, an entire bottle of stinky cologne, wafts this way. The crowd parts and here comes Stanton Troublefield looking as if he’s ready to raise a stink indeed—followed by Neelie, who looks fit for a runaway in Milan .
“Karaoke!” Neelie screeches before making a beeline for the stage and jumping smack between Tinsley and Elodie, while Stanton zeroes in on us like a shark who smells blood in the water.
“Well, well, well,” he sneers, his voice dripping with the false charm he’s infamous for. “Isn’t this a cozy little scene?”