Chapter 1 #2
“Talk about setting a mood.” I smirked. “And we’re bunking next to one of the subjects of the podcast. How wild is that?
” I would’ve laughed if it hadn’t been so surreal.
“You said Callie’s husband’s death was undetermined?
Her alibi seems pretty airtight. You can’t murder someone if you’re on stage in front of millions of people.
Why did his death make the murder show?”
Pippa’s gaze narrowed, and her voice lowered even more.
“Because within a year of his death, she married the head judge, Sebastian Caldwell, a record producer from England. After that season, Sebastian, who had been their most popular judge and one of the show’s producers, was out.
They replaced him with country singer Clint Wade.
Sebastian is still listed as a creator and co-producer, but the show has distanced itself from him.
” Her cadence sped up, and her voice went up an octave in pitch.
“On top of all that, Mimi and Serge, the podcasters, were anonymously sent a secret recording of Callie’s husband confronting her about sleeping her way to the final, and Callie told him she wished he was dead. It was brutal.”
“Wowza.” I blinked a few times. “So, do you think the guy next door calling her names is the judge, Sebastian Caldwell?”
Pippa shrugged and nodded. “She and Sebastian did get married, and that guy yelling has a British accent.”
I glanced at Callie’s empty balcony. “That’s nuts.”
“I wonder if she had her husband murdered or maybe her new husband arranged it. An older man enamored by the ingenue and willing to go to any lengths to be with her.” Pippa cocked her brow at me. “Maybe you could—”
I gave a sharp shake of my head. “That sounds more like a gothic romance than a mystery. Besides, I’m on vacation,” I told her. “I am not going to investigate anything other than where I can find the best margarita on this ship.”
Pippa frowned. “Spoilsport.”
Ezra chuckled as he put his arms around me again. “Nora’s nose is officially off duty.”
“Fine,” my blonde bestie said with a pout. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t keep an ear out for intrigue.”
“You do you,” I told her with a laugh. I couldn’t help but wonder why a famous record producer-slash-tv personality wasn’t in one of the penthouse suites or a villa on the ship.
I mean, our concierge sunset suites were nice, but they weren’t rich people nice.
I was about to say as much to Pippa when Scott walked out onto the balcony.
“I’m not sure Gilly’s going to make dinner tonight,” he announced. “The nausea isn’t letting up.”
“Aww, bummer. I hope she feels better soon,” I said sympathetically. “Is there anything we can do to help her?”
“Not unless you can keep the ship from rocking,” he replied.
I waved a hand at him. “That’s beyond my scope of expertise.”
“Hopefully, she’ll feel better later tonight or at least by morning,” Scott said.
“Hopefully,” I agreed. “Or this vacation will be one miserable day after another for her.” Poor Gilly. She’d been so excited about the cruise. I hated that it was off to such a bad start for her. “Will you be going to dinner or staying in with Gilly?”
Scott shook his head. “If she can’t go, I’ll skip it too. I don’t want to leave her alone. We’ll have something sent to the room.”
I smiled. “Good man.”
He smirked, giving me a wry look. “I try.”
And he succeeded. After kissing a lot of toads, including a bastard of an ex-husband, Gilly had finally found her Prince Charming.
I’m ashamed to admit that I held my breath a little, waiting for the other shoe to drop with Scott.
But he had repeatedly proven to be as good as he was true.
The best part? He loved Gilly the way she deserved to be loved.
“There are still a few hours,” I told him. “Maybe she’ll perk up by then.”
“Maybe.” He grimaced when we all heard her puke again. “I’d better get back inside.”
“Do you want me to go to the sundries shop and get something else for her stomach?” I asked.
“I’ve given her a dose of meclizine,” he said. “I don’t want to overdo the medicine.”
“What about some lemon-lime soda?” Ezra asked. “It can help with upset stomachs.”
“Or ginger ale,” Pippa added. “That’s what my pediatrician recommended when JayJay got that stomach virus.” JayJay was Pippa’s four-year-old daughter.
“Both of those are good options,” Scott said. “If you can find either, it could help.”
“And some saltines,” I added. “Those always help me when I feel icky in the tummy.”
“Yep,” Scott said. “Those too, if they have them.”
I took Ezra’s hand. “We’ll go see what we can find.”
Pippa nodded. “You guys go to the shop for crackers, and Jordy and I will head to the bar for the lemon-lime soda.” She gestured to their wrists. They’d bought the unlimited non-alcoholic drink package because Jordy was over fifteen years sober. “If they have ginger ale, we’ll get that too.”
“Ginger ale is used in a lot of mixed drinks, so it’s probably a good gamble.” I turned my gaze to Scott. “We’ve got our mission, Doc. We’ll be back soon.”
He grinned. “Gilly’s lucky she’s got such great friends.”
“We’re all lucky,” I said. “She’d do it for us.”
“I would,” Gilly yelled from inside the cabin. Then she uttered, “Oh, Gawd,” and began to retch again.
I tugged on Ezra. “Time to go.”