Of Spice and Men (Nora Black Midlife Psychic Mystery #10)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

I slid open the glass door of our balcony suite and stepped out onto the narrow deck, just big enough for a small table and two chairs.

Luckily, the suite, decorated in soft, neutral tones of sandy beige and ocean blue, was much roomier.

It was large enough for a plush king-sized bed, a cozy sitting area, and a spa-like bathroom with a moderately large shower with marble finishes.

The hum of the ship’s engines mingled with the faint rush of waves. We’d left Tampa behind two hours earlier, and now, with no land in sight, the Lady Voyager cut through the water, smooth and steady, leaving a trail of white foam.

Ezra stepped out after me, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and pulling me close. His warmth contrasted with the cool sea air, and he kissed my ear, his lips brushing just enough to make me shiver. “I still can’t believe you’ve never been on a cruise before, Nora.”

“What can’t you believe about it?” I asked, leaning back into him as the breeze lifted his faintly earthy cologne and mixed it with the ocean air.

“You just always seem so…” He hesitated, and I could feel the grin in his voice.

“Old?” I teased.

Ezra laughed, the deep, rich sound vibrating through his chest against my back. “No.” He turned me in his arms to face him, the sun glinting in his emerald-green eyes. “You’ve just done so much in life already. You’re confident. Accomplished... it’s hard to picture you missing out on anything.”

I chuckled, sliding my hands over his shoulders and lacing my fingers behind his neck. The breeze rustled the open collar of his button-down shirt, revealing a hint of chest hair. “After this, we can get me a shirt that says, Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.”

“Anything you want.” His lips curved into a lopsided grin, but his gaze drifted past me, out over the endless water.

The setting sun layered the sky with shades of orange, pink, and deep purple.

“I can’t believe we’re on vacation. Like, an actual leave everything behind and sail into paradise kind of vacation. It feels surreal.”

“I’m just glad we could all make the time to do it,” I said, following his gaze. The ocean stretched forever as if nothing else existed but us and the water.

The eight-day cruise from Tampa to Cozumel, Belize City, Roatán, the Grand Caymans then back to Tampa was a dream none of us had realized we needed until it came to life.

It started as a casual conversation at Christmas after our town of Garden Cove had experienced a week-long ice storm that had us all cussing the freezing weather.

Pippa had mentioned the tropics, half-joking, and Ezra had chimed in, saying he’d always wanted to go on a cruise.

The idea snowballed from there, each of us adding our own enthusiasm for the topic to the mix—Gilly and Scott’s scuba-diving ambitions, Jordy’s love for snorkeling, and my desperate longing to escape January’s icy grip.

By the time we toasted the New Year, we’d already booked an eight-day adults-only cruise to the sunny Caribbean.

Here we were in late March, and the cold and snow were just frozen memories that had already started to thaw. I closed my eyes, listening to the faint cries of seagulls in the distance and giving in to the gentle swaying of the ship beneath my feet.

“Thank you,” I said.

“For what?” Ezra asked.

“For nothing and everything.”

He smoothed my unruly hair away from my face, then dipped his head, his broad, firm lips brushing against mine. I melted against his body, enjoying the way his hands slid down my back as he deepened the kiss.

“Oh, God,” Gilly said. “I’m going to be sick. Again.”

I looked at Ezra and shook my head before turning to find Gilly on her balcony, which was connected to ours. She looked pale and, frankly, a little green around the gills.

Her husband, Scott, trailed behind, extending his open hand toward her. “I told you to take these before we got on the boat.” In the middle of his palm were two small white pills.

“But they make me sleepy,” she whined. “Besides, there was no way to know for certain I’d get seasick.”

“Oh, I don’t know, love,” he told her. “There were some clues.” His expression was a study of practiced patience. “Like the fact that you get carsick and carnival ride sick, and the last time we went out on my fishing boat, you chummed the water.”

When I tried not to laugh, it came out as a snort.

“Don’t you start, Nora,” Gilly said, betrayal in her voice, as she took the seasickness pills from Scott. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I’m one hundred percent on your side,” I told her. “You’ve never been on a cruise. There was no way of knowing if the constant swaying of a giant ship would trigger your sensitivity to motion.”

She looked at me as if she were trying to figure out whether I was being sarcastic, then said, “Exactly. I couldn’t have known.”

Ezra’s chuckle was soft and pleasant. I gave him a gentle elbow to the gut.

Scott stared at his wife with a mix of adoration and worry. “It shouldn’t take too long to kick in. You’ll be feeling better in no time.”

“I’ll be ready for a nap,” she complained. “I want to be fabulous for dinner tonight.”

“You’re always fabulous,” Pippa said, stepping out onto the balcony on the other side of Gilly’s. “Even sleepy.”

Gilly smiled, briefly mollified, then her eyes bulged as she put her hand over her mouth and ran back into her room. Scott and Ezra exchanged looks before Scott hurried inside after her.

“I hope she’s not sick the whole cruise,” Pippa said. “That would be a complete bummer.”

“I hate you,” a woman shouted from the room on the other side of mine.

“Stupid cow,” I heard a man with a British accent shout.

“I told you no the first time, but you’re too dumb to understand the word.

Let me spell it out for you. N. O. No. It means it’s not happening.

It’s never happening, and no matter how many times you ask, the answer isn’t changing, so quit crying over something we’ve already discussed. ”

I glanced at Pippa, then Ezra, then back to Pippa. I could feel my eyes bulging from my head. This was coming from the room next to ours, and while their balcony door was closed, their voices were coming through loud and clear.

“Holy crap,” I mouthed.

Pippa winced. “I know, right?” she mouthed back.

The sliding glass door slid open on their balcony, and we all looked over as a teary-eyed woman staggered out to the rail.

The bombshell beauty with caramel brown hair held her fist to her chest as she looked out over the water before looking around and noticing she wasn’t alone.

With a sniffle, she said, “Oh, hi, sorry.” She gently wiped at her face with her fingertips, then patted the area under her eyes dry.

“The majesty of the sea. It always gets me.”

The majesty of the sea and a nasty man, I thought. “No worries,” I told her. “I completely understand. The gorgeous view is enough to make anyone emotional.”

“I know I’m feeling emotional,” Pippa added in solidarity.

“Who’s emotional?” Gilly said, stumbling back onto her balcony. Then she noticed the stranger. “Hi there.” Her eyes bulged and her hand flew back over her mouth. “‘Scuse me,” she gutted out before running back inside.

I gave the woman an apologetic wince. “She’s got motion sickness.”

“Poor dear,” she said, tucking her chin. Her small bow mouth pursed for a second. “Do you all know each other?”

“Yes,” Pippa answered. “We’re best friends and business partners. This is our first vacation in years.”

“Well, a real vacation,” Jordy said. “Nothing but sun and fun, with no problems to solve other than where to set our stuff down at the pool.”

The woman sniffled again. “How nice for you all.”

“I’m Nora Black.” I gestured to Ezra. “And this is Ezra. Over there,” I pointed to my friends, “are Pippa and her husband, Jordy. Our seasick friend is Gilly, and she’s here with her husband, Scott.”

“I’m Callie,” the woman said. “My husband, Sebastian, and I are here for our fifth wedding anniversary.”

Yikes. Only five years married, and he was already calling her names like stupid cow? I felt sorry for Callie.

“Happy anniversary,” Ezra said.

She blushed and averted her gaze. “I better get back inside.”

After she went in, I whispered, “That was super sad.”

Ezra nodded.

Pippa waved me over. When I was close, she hissed, “That’s Calliope Grant.”

I gave her a quizzical look.

She shook her head, looking exasperated. “She’s a vocalist who won Ultimate Singer of America six years ago. You know, the national contest where the winner gets a recording contract with Zeta Records and a global tour.”

I shrugged. “I’ve never heard of her.”

However, I had heard of the show. It was one of the ones Ari, Gilly’s daughter, loved to watch. “Do I know any of her songs?”

“Doubtful.” Pippa shook her head. “Her husband, Billy Grant, fell from a hotel balcony the night of the finale...” Conspiratorially, she added, “...while she was on stage, getting her accolades.”

“Her husband?” Ezra asked. “Why wasn’t he at the show with her? I mean, the finale seems like a big deal to miss.”

“Good question,” Pippa answered. “With no good explanation, considering he had been given a ticket. His death was listed as undetermined.” She finger-quoted the last word. “But the investigation never uncovered any proof of foul play.”

I arched a brow. “And how do you know all this?”

“The Reality of Getting Away With Murder with Mimi and Serge,” she said as if it should mean something to me.

“It’s a podcast,” Jordy clarified. “It explores suspicious deaths and murders related to reality stars.” The corner of his mouth quirked into a half-smile. “Pippa and I listen to it in the evening after we put the kids to bed.”