Page 26 of Cruel Christmas Cruise (Cruising Through Midlife: Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries #12)

Someone—Tinsley, no doubt—has added sprigs of mistletoe to each corner of the room, transforming what might have been an ordinary class reunion into something straight out of a holiday movie.

Except in most Christmas movies, the plot doesn’t revolve around murder, insider trading, and mysterious cliffside deaths.

And ironically, those sprigs of mistletoe are a stark reminder of one particular classmate who couldn’t make it tonight.

Alec Shepherd’s gaze follows me as I close the distance between us, and his expression shifts from charming to something more guarded.

Behind him, the vast windows frame the pitch-black night sea, making it seem as though he’s standing at the edge of the world.

The music and the chatter of the crowd seem to fade as I step in close.

“What did you want to see me about?” I ask, keeping my voice light despite the fact my heart is hammering in anticipation.

Alec swirls the champagne in his glass. “I wanted to thank you, actually.”

“Thank me?” That’s unexpected.

“For looking out for Holly,” he says. “This hasn’t been an easy trip for any of us, but she’s taken Missy’s death particularly hard.”

Before I can respond, a shimmer of movement catches my eye.

Joy and Dash materialize on either side of Alec with their ghostly forms more vibrant than usual, glowing electric blue against the backdrop of all the gorgeous Christmas decor.

Joy reaches toward her old husband and her hand passes through his shoulder in a futile gesture of comfort.

“You should tell her how you feel,” Dash says to Alec, despite the fact he can’t hear.

I swallow hard, reminding myself to focus on the one person in this conversation who might actually have some answers for me.

“No need to thank me,” I tell him. “Holly is a sweetheart. But now that we’re here, I did want to speak to you about something if you don’t mind,” I begin carefully. “It’s regarding Shepherd Industries.”

Alec’s posture stiffens slightly. “What about my company?”

“ Alec .” I wince before cutting right to the chase.

“I’ve heard the rumors. And judging by them, I’d say the SEC might be interested in some of your trading activities.

” I pause, watching his face closely. “Insider information, offshore accounts. Those are the kinds of things that could ruin a man.”

His expression remains impressively neutral, but I can’t help but notice his knuckles whitening around the stem of his glass.

He tips his head as he takes it in. “I take it you’ve been talking to Ginger.”

“Among others.” I take a small step closer. “Is that why you did it, Alec? Is that why you poisoned Missy? With cyanide, of all things?”

Both Joy and Dash gasp at the accusation.

Alec takes a step backward with a genuine look of shock. “I—what?”

Joy growls my way as her transparent form flickers with distress. “Trixie, you must be wrong. Alec wouldn’t?—”

“But the evidence,” Dash interjects, his ghostly brow furrowed. “The financial records, the timing...”

I keep my eyes fixed on Alec, ignoring the debate happening between the poltergeists beside him. “Quinn, one of the ship’s security officers, found the payment to a private investigator. Two days before Missy died.”

“The investigator wasn’t for Missy,” Alec says, his voice dropping to an urgent whisper. “It was for Joy.”

This time it’s my turn to be surprised. “What?”

Joy gasps because obviously he caught her off guard, too.

“I hired him to reinvestigate Joy’s incident the day she died,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “The police ruled it an accident at the time, but something never felt right. After all these years, I still wanted answers.”

“But what about the financial irregularities?” I point out. “The insider trading Ginger mentioned...”

Alec gives a bitter laugh. “Of course, she’d say that. Look, what Ginger calls insider trading was actually an error in our quarterly filing. My CFO made a mistake in how R&D expenses were categorized. We’ve already submitted amended documents to the SEC.”

I study his face, searching for any sign of deception. “And the offshore accounts for the Cresswell Foundation?”

“It wasn’t for the Cresswell Foundation.

It was investment trusts for Holly’s son,” he says without missing a beat.

“Mason’s gambling problem was real, but Holly wasn’t embezzling from her charity.

I’ve been helping her set up a financial safety net for him.

Completely legal and private.” He shakes his head.

“Missy somehow found out and was spinning it into something sinister for her podcast.”

Joy moves to stand in front of me, her face earnest. “He’s telling the truth, Trixie.

Alec is many things, but he’s not a liar and he’s certainly not a killer.

” She pauses as her unearthly glow ratchets up a notch.

“Wait a minute. I just remembered something about the day I died.” Her transparent eyes widen.

“That teal car that ran me off the road—I saw it earlier that day at Ginger’s real estate office. ”

Dash drifts closer. “Are you certain?”

“ Yes .” Joy nods emphatically. “I stopped by to drop off some paperwork for a property Alec was interested in developing. Ginger insisted I come inside for coffee, said she had something important to discuss about the property.” Her form wavers slightly.

“She kept me there for nearly an hour, asking strange questions about my schedule, and where I was heading next.”

“That’s why you were running late,” Dash murmurs.

Joy continues, her voice growing more urgent. “And when I left, I remember seeing that teal car parked in the side lot—not the main client parking. It was in the employee section.”

“Employee parking,” Dash suggests, his ghostly face darkening with suspicion.

“Yes,” Joy confirms. “Trixie, I think Ginger deliberately delayed me, then followed me in that car. She knew exactly where I was going and which route I’d take.”

I take a breath. “I heard something else,” I say carefully to Alec, well aware that I had better conceal my ghostly informants.

“A rumor about the day Joy died. That she visited Ginger’s real estate office and was delayed there for nearly an hour while Ginger asked strange questions about her schedule.

And that there was a teal car parked in the employee lot—the same color car that may have run Joy off the road later that day.

” I’m not sure I connected all the pieces for him in a way that makes sense, but I’m hoping he’ll follow my teal-colored lead.

Alec’s face drains of color. “Where did you hear that?”

“Does it matter? Is it true?”

“Joy did stop by Ginger’s office that day. She mentioned it when she called to tell me she was running late,” he says slowly. “But that would mean?—”

His phone chimes with an incoming text. He glances down, and his expression changes to alarm.

“It’s from Holly,” he says, turning toward the exit. “It just says ‘Out on the deck, help .’”

Before I can respond, he’s pushing through the crowd toward the nearest exit. I hesitate only a second before following, regardless of the fact I’m wearing three-inch spiked heels with my gown. Elodie sent the torture devices over, and despite all my sensibilities, I couldn’t resist.

Joy and Dash flicker beside me as I hurry after Alec.

“Run!” Joy urges. “Something is wrong!”

The festive music fades behind us as we rush through corridors decorated with twinkle lights and pine garlands, the cheerful decor now seeming eerily misplaced against the urgency of whatever lies ahead.

Alec reaches the door to the outer deck and flings it open, letting in a blast of cold night air that cuts through the warmth of the ship.

I follow him into the darkness, the door swinging shut behind us with a finality that sends a chill down my spine, and it has nothing to do with the winter wind.