Chapter 26
Suddenly Hitched—What a Trip!
Hey there, mystery-loving readers!
We’ve docked in magnificent Copenhagen on the final day of our Norwegian fjords adventure aboard the Emerald Queen of the Seas!
My waterproof hiking boots have earned veteran status after tackling the rugged terrain of Pulpit Rock and Geiranger, and my detective skills have been thoroughly tested by trophy wives and daytime drama kings alike, and I’ve consumed enough skillingsboller to make me consider relocating to Norway permanently.
From dodging oleander-laced drinks to watching Nettie attempt to teach Santino DiAngelo authentic Norwegian folk dancing at the Seven Sisters waterfall, this cruise has proven that reality truly IS stranger than fiction—especially when it involves double confessions, the dramatic collapsing of an ice sculpture, and enough theatrical monologues to fill an entire season of The Bitter and the Beautiful.
Copenhagen’s colorful buildings and charming canals are a bittersweet finale to our Scandinavian journey.
Although I must admit, after the events of last night’s formal dinner, even the famous Little Mermaid statue seems tame by comparison.
Nothing quite matches the drama of two reality TV stars confessing to murder while destroying a chocolate fountain!
I’ve learned some valuable lessons along the way.
Always trust your octogenarian friends when they recognize soap stars from decades-old storylines, never underestimate the investigative power of a ghostly soap diva with a vendetta, and sometimes the most dangerous wives are the ones with the sweetest smiles and knowledge of poisonous plants.
As we prepare to disembark, the ship feels oddly quiet without cameras tracking our every move and trophy wives staging confrontations at the breakfast buffet.
Rumor has it that even Marlie’s ghost has temporarily returned to the planet to haunt her ex-husband in what promises to be the most supernatural revenge tour in soap opera history.
Until my next adventure, keep your fjords majestic, your aquavit chilled, and maybe avoid any cruise activities that involve reality TV production—trust me on that one!
XOXO Trixie
P.S. Breaking news from the gangway! Some unexpected paperwork just arrived that might change everything about life aboard the Emerald Queen. The drama never ends, even when we’re between episodes!
Day 10: Copenhagen, Denmark (Disembarkation)
The Copenhagen harbor stretches before us with its colorful buildings in cheerful yellows and reds lining the waterfront, sailboats bobbing in the morning sun, and the distant spire of the Church of Our Saviour piercing a sky so blue it seems artificially enhanced.
After ten days of Norwegian gloom, the Danish capital feels like someone suddenly adjusted the saturation settings on the world.
From our position at the mouth of the gangway, we watch passengers file off the ship, many pausing to thank the crime-solving team before heading into their post-cruise lives.
Last night’s dramatic double confession seems to have transformed us into minor celebrities, at least within the confines of our little floating community.
“I’ll miss those soap hunks,” Nettie sighs with all the drama she can afford, waving to a group of disembarking contest winners. “Especially Santino. Did you know he can still do the splits at sixty-eight?”
“I’m more impressed by the fact he can remember all those resurrection storylines without getting confused,” Bess counters. “Fourteen times back from the dead, and he never once mixed up which evil twin was responsible.”
“That finale was quite something,” Wes says, looking resplendent in his formal captain’s uniform with enough brass to reflect the Danish sun like a spotlight. “A double confession and a dessert buffet destruction derby.”
Ransom gives a wistful tick of his head, his expression a perfect blend of professional satisfaction and personal amusement. “I’ll admit, a double confession is rare even in my FBI days.”
“And I’ll be honest,” Wes continues, “I didn’t see that twist coming.”
I look up at Ransom while giving his ribs a quick tweak. “Neither did I.”
Elodie clears her throat as she steps our way. “Speaking of doubles...” She adjusts her designer sunglasses with a mischievous smile. “Let’s just say I took on two of the stage crew last night, and there wasn’t a lighting cue they missed.”
“Elodie!” I gasp, although I’m not actually surprised. After well over a year on a cruise ship, I’ve learned that the staff social scene makes spring break look like a church picnic.
“What?” She shrugs unapologetically. “They needed help dismantling their equipment, and I’m nothing if not a team player.”
Nettie turns to Tinsley with a curious gleam in her eye. “How about you, Toots? Did you ever land that plane?”
Tinsley’s perfectly glossed lips curl into a devious smile.
“Let’s just say we achieved liftoff at twenty-one hundred hours, maintained a cruising altitude of approximately six feet above mattress level for several hours, experienced minor turbulence when the champagne bottle rolled off the nightstand, and executed a perfect touchdown around oh-three-hundred.
” She pauses dramatically. “And he may or may not have filmed it for his future viewing pleasure.”
“Oh, Tinsley!” I gasp with far more genuine shock this time. “You had better hope he doesn’t upload a digital copy to the internet.”
“Please.” She waves dismissively. “I’ve never looked better. My contouring held up through three encores.”
“Did you check his phone afterward?” Elodie asks with practicality because clearly she’s been in this situation before. “Men like Boomer have a habit of accidentally sharing their private collections.”
“Ladies, please,” Ransom interjects, looking simultaneously amused and uncomfortable. “Some conversations should wait until we’re off the gangway.”
“Spoilsport,” Bess teases. “Just because you’re a one-woman man doesn’t mean we all have to be so restrained.”
As if summoned by our conversation, Boomer appears at the top of the gangway, and his designer sunglasses barely conceal the evidence of what was clearly an epic celebration.
His hair is artfully tousled in that way that suggests either a professional stylist or a particularly athletic night with one very enthusiastic cruise director.
“My stars!” he exclaims with his arms spread wide. “The dream team that delivered the greatest reality TV moment in history!”
He makes his way down the line, shaking hands with theatrical enthusiasm until he reaches Elodie. “And you, my queen of retail therapy.” He kisses her hand with an exaggerated pucker. “I was hoping to see you last night.”
“I was otherwise engaged,” Elodie replies coolly. “Unlike some people, I don’t film my nighttime activities for posterity.”
Tinsley clears her throat. “Ahem. Forgetting someone?”
Boomer lifts his sunglasses, squinting at her with genuine confusion.
“Have we met? Go ahead and shoot me a headshot. We’ll see if I can cast you in anything.
” He replaces his sunglasses and continues down the gangway with a confident stride as if he believes he’s leaving some serious admirers in his wake.
Tinsley’s jaw drops so far, I’m concerned she might dislocate it. “That... that... unbelievable cad! No wonder he kept calling me Teresa all night. He didn’t even know who I was!” She smooths her uniform with a look of indignation. “That’s it. I’m swearing off men. Permanently.”
“I tried that once,” Bess says with a shrug. “It didn’t work out so well. The problem is they keep making new ones.”
Before Tinsley can respond, the soap husbands appear at the top of the gangway with Harper trailing slightly behind them.
Victor Darkmore looks considerably less regal than usual, his hair suspiciously flat on one side, suggesting he spent the night tossing and turning rather than being pampered by his usual styling team.
“Farewell, fair vessel of drama and intrigue,” Bridge Blackthorne announces with theatrical gravity. “May your decks forever echo with the footsteps of those seeking truth and justice.”
“He’s still in character,” Nettie whispers my way. “Method acting is so impressive.”
Santino offers us a more subdued goodbye. “Thank you for making this the most memorable cruise of my career—and that includes the time we filmed that hurricane episode on location in the actual eye of Hurricane Beatrice.”
Harper hangs back, and I can’t help but notice that her dark eyes look softer than I’ve seen them before.
“I should apologize for the dessert buffet,” she says quietly as she enters our midst. “Although I stand by everything I said.”
“The pastry chef sends his regards,” Wes replies dryly. “He says your tantrum inspired him to create a new dessert called Chocolate Revenge. It involves shattering a chocolate dome at the tableside.”
Harper’s smile is small but genuine. “It sounds appropriate.”
As they make their way down the gangway, I notice Marlie’s ghost floating alongside them, her ethereal form shimmering in the morning sunlight.
“Wait,” I mutter. “What?” I frown slightly, confused.
Usually, once a murder is solved, the ghost moves on to whatever awaits in the afterlife.
Yet here she is, looking particularly pleased with herself.
I quickly grab hold of both Bess’s and Nettie’s hands.
If someone is touching me, then they, too, can hear clear to the other side.
“The Man Upstairs gave me another day pass,” Marlie explains with a wink.
“I plan on haunting the pants off my ex for twenty-four hours straight. It serves him right for landing me in the afterlife in the first place. Besides...” She strikes a dramatic pose that instantly transforms her into Victoria Darkmore, complete with glowing yellow eyes and hair that looks as if she licked a light socket.
“Revenge is a dish best served with supernatural special effects!”