Chapter 28
Back in the Golden Era Ballroom, the Second Act Society party has ratcheted up another notch. The music’s louder, the laughter’s bigger, and someone’s doing the Electric Slide with more enthusiasm than coordination.
Bess and Nettie practically jump all over Ransom and me.
“You solved another one!” Bess howls.
Nettie nods. “Rumor has it you landed under a man and you showed him what’s what.”
“She did indeed,” Ransom says as he tips his head my way. “More importantly, she lived to tell about it.”
“That’s because she’s the best amateur sleuth on the planet,” Bess says as she pulls me in for a quick embrace and Nettie wraps her arms around us both.
Nettie pulls us in tight. “Next time you let a man jump your bones like that, invite me to the party. I’ll show him what’s what, too.”
“Will do,” I say with a laugh.
Wes and Marina return from the medical bay just as Tinsley wheels out the most magnificent chocolate lava cake I’ve ever seen. It stands three tiers tall with gold sparklers shooting from the top and enough candles blazing like a birthday bonfire.
“I got the all’s clear!” Marina announces, beaming. “Not even a bruise.”
“Yet,” Wes corrects, his captain face softening into something close to relief. “The doctor said to ice anything that hurts and check back with him in the morning. I’ll have a bucket of ice delivered to your room as soon as possible.”
“Aww,” Bess, Nettie, and I coo in unison.
Behind them, I spot Tinsley and Elodie entering the ballroom. Tinsley looks absolutely ragged, her hair escaping its clip in six directions, her makeup smudged, her smile teetering between genuine joy and the edge of a nervous breakdown.
Elodie makes a beeline for the cake flanked by two actual Vikings. Or at least staff members dressed as Vikings, complete with horned helmets and fake beards.
The Vikings start a drumroll on the table. The crowd gathers around, champagne glasses raised.
Wes and Ransom lead Marina and me toward the cake table, where waitstaff are frantically lighting what has to be a hundred sparkler candles on the world’s largest chocolate lava cake. The sparklers hiss and crackle, shooting gold sparks into the air like tiny fireworks.
“Happy birthday to you—”
I shake my head at Ransom. “They already sang to us.”
“And you both earned another round,” he says.
The room erupts. Two hundred voices, none of them in the same key, all of them loud enough to wake the dead.
Which, given my track record, isn’t entirely theoretical.
Marina laughs beside me, her eyes bright with tears.
I’m grinning so hard my face hurts. Everyone in the room launches into the world’s most enthusiastic rendition of “Happy Birthday.” Off-key and overlapping with nothing but beautiful chaos.
The sparklers keep shooting gold light across our faces as we lean into the sweet monstrosity.
The chocolate scent is overwhelming, rich and dark and exactly what turning fifty should smell like.
“—happy birthday, dear Trixie and Marina—”
Bess and Nettie are front and center with their party horns raised as though they were weapons.
“—happy birthday to YOUUUU!”
An entire cacophony of horns blast, and a few people actually jump because of it.
Marina and I lean in together, take a breath, and blow our hearts out. Fifty sparkler candles don’t go out easily. We have to blow twice and the crowd cheers anyway.
Fifty flames between us, representing a century of living, learning, and apparently solving murders.
The candles finally go out and applause erupts.
Tinsley slumps against the dessert table. “I hope you both wished for an assistant. Because I’m about two emergencies away from staging a mutiny.”
Wes looks at Marina, and something shifts in his expression. He looks vulnerable, hopeful, and a little bit terrified.
“How about it?” he asks. “If you’re free and in need of employment, the Emerald Queen would love to have you stay on.” He pauses. “And so would I.”
Marina’s eyes go wide.
“We all would,” I practically plead. “We’re family now. It’s practically official.”
Bess nods. “You fit right in.”
Marina bites her lower lip, her eyes shimmering with tears that could go in either direction. Then she breaks into a grin so big it transforms her entire face.
“Yes,” she says, her voice cracking with emotion. “I would be honored to work on the Emerald Queen and live right here with all of you.”
The entire lot of us launch into one big group hug.
One big chaotic, beautiful group hug. Wes pulls her close.
Bess and Nettie squeeze from both sides.
Ransom wraps an arm around me while somehow including everyone else in his wingspan.
Even Elodie joins in, abandoning her Vikings to pile into our little huddle.
“Speech!” someone shouts from the crowd.
“No speeches,” Marina laughs through happy tears. “Just cake. And maybe more champagne.”
“Now that’s a priority system I can support,” Nettie announces.
The music kicks back in with something fast and danceable, and bodies flood the dance floor in record time.
Ransom pulls me aside as the waitstaff start cutting the cake and his hand is warm around mine. “I have something for you.”
“You already gave me breakfast in bed and solved a murder with me. That’s plenty.”
“It’s never plenty.” He pulls a small velvet box from his jacket pocket, the fancy sort that makes your heart skip even when you’ve been married for years, or months.
I open it and a diamond tennis bracelet catches the light from a thousand chandeliers, sparkling almost as bright as those birthday candles. It’s elegant, understated, and it’s simply perfect.
“Ransom, this is—”
“Fifty years of you being extraordinary,” he says quietly. “And hopefully fifty more of me getting to watch.”
My throat goes tight. “You’re making me cry at my own birthday party.”
“Good tears?”
“The best tears.”
I let him fasten the bracelet around my wrist and the diamonds are cool against my skin. “I love you. Even when you’re making me emotional.”
He laughs and kisses me. “I love you too, Detective Troublefield Baxter. Happy birthday.”
Ransom pulls me close, spinning me in a circle that makes the ballroom blur into gold and light and laughter.
“You did it,” he murmurs against my ear. “Caught a killer, saved Quinn, turned fifty, and recruited a new crew member. Not bad for one evening.”
“I’m a bit of an overachiever.”
“You’re perfect.”
Ransom lands his lips on mine and kisses me, deep and sweet and perfect, and when we break apart, the whole ballroom is dancing.
Bess and Nettie are attempting something that might be the tango.
Wes and Marina are swaying together, lost in their own little world.
And I think Elodie is teaching the Vikings how to moonwalk.
Celeste materializes beside us in a shower of silver sparkles, watching the chaos with satisfaction.
“Not bad, Detective Troublefield Baxter,” she says. “You figured it out. And now I can finally move on.”
“To be with Gideon?” I ask with a twinge of excitement for her.
Ransom leans my way. “Unless he’s somewhere far too hot to visit.”
Celeste chortles at the thought. “Oh, hon, my Giddy is up and over the rainbow where forgiveness reigns and all you have to do is believe,” she says as her translucent form begins to fade. “He was terrible and wonderful and mine. And I’ve missed him every single day since I left.”
“Will you be happy?”
“I’ll be complete.” She smiles, sad and radiant all at once. “Thank you, Trixie. For giving me closure. For letting me help. For being gloriously alive.”
And she’s gone. Just like that—no fanfare, no dramatic exit—just an explosion of hot pink stars and a catcall that could pierce eardrums.
Ransom winces at the sound. “Are you okay?”
“Better than okay.” I look around the Golden Era Ballroom, at my husband, my friends, my new best friend, at fifty years of life that led me exactly here. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
The music swells. The cake gets demolished. The champagne keeps flowing.
And somewhere in the North Atlantic, the Emerald Queen of the Seas sails on through the night, carrying all of us toward whatever comes next.
Fifty and fabulous indeed.