Page 28 of Cruel Christmas Cruise (Cruising Through Midlife: Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries #12)
How the heck did Theo get that weapon past security? There’s no way. Wes requires all guns to be locked up unless you work for the ship. Even Ransom has to check his service weapon at the gate.
The realization hits me—it’s fake . It has to be.
“You don’t want to do this,” I say, stalling. “Think about it, Theo. How many witnesses saw us leave the ballroom? Explaining away one body might be plausible but three?”
“I guess we’ll chalk it up to a Christmas miracle,” Ginger says with a maniacal laugh. “No one questions tragedy during the holidays. A lawyer and a real estate agent—why would we be suspects?”
“Because you’re terrible liars,” I say, taking a calculated risk. “And worse conspirators. The Gossip Ghost messages were always sloppy—full of petty high school grudges and badly concealed envy. Just like the two of you.”
Ginger’s smile freezes. “You think you’re so clever.”
“Clever enough to know that gun isn’t real,” I say, though I’m only about eighty percent sure. And I’ve got to say, the twenty percent margin of error looms rather large when staring down a barrel, fake or not.
Behind them, the door to the deck opens silently.
A figure in red—Wes in his Santa suit—slips through, followed by Ransom, both of whom are craning their necks every which way, and a surge of relief washes through me, quickly followed by the realization that I need to keep Theo and Ginger distracted until we’re spotted.
“Tell me something,” I say, raising my voice slightly. “Was Joy’s death planned, or just bad luck? Were you planning to kill her, or did the idea pop into your head when the opportunity presented itself?”
“Does it matter?” Ginger laughs, tilting her head. “Dead is dead.”
“It was an opportunity,” Theo says in haste. “Ginger never misses an opportunity to take what she thinks belongs to her.”
“ Theo! ” Ginger hisses.
“What? They’re not going to tell anyone.” His eyes are fever-bright, almost manic. “Ginger saw her chance. One nudge from the bumper and over she went. It was easy for anyone to think Joy lost control.”
Alec growls so loud it sounds like thunder.
Speaking of losing control…
I take a deep breath and make my move. “You’re not going to shoot anyone with that toy,” I say, lunging forward.
Alec follows my lead instantly, charging Theo while I go for the gun. Chaos erupts on the deck. Holly screams, and Ginger curses as the plastic gun clatters across the wood.
“ FREEZE! ” Ransom’s voice cuts through the night with all the authority you would expect from a hot ex-FBI agent.
Both Theo and Ginger spin to find themselves facing Ransom’s very real weapon and Wes’ imposing self in a Santa suit. Okay, so he’s less imposing and more adorable but still.
“ Ho, ho, hold it right there,” Wes booms, his maritime authority undimmed by the miles of red velvet he’s donned. “No one ruins Christmas Eve on my ship.”
“Wes, thank goodness,” Holly gasps. “They killed Missy. They killed Joy, too!”
“They confessed to everything,” I add. “Ginger and Theo killed Missy. They ran Joy off the road five years ago. They’ve been colluding for years. They were the gossip ghosts along with Missy. They’re responsible for all of it!”
Within moments, security descends on the deck. Quinn appears with two officers, efficiently handcuffing the stunned pair. Ginger’s composure finally cracks as she’s led away, her furious accusations against Theo echoing across the deck.
“This is all your fault!” she continues to shriek at him. “You and your pathetic need to confess every last detail! I knew I should have done this alone!”
“She used you, man,” Wes tells Theo as the security officers take him in the opposite direction. “She’s been using all of us for decades.”
“It was worth it,” Theo says just below a whisper. “Every minute.”
Wes shakes his head, adjusting his Santa hat. “Amazing how the nice list and naughty list sort themselves out every year.” He turns to us. “Are you three alright? Do I need to get the ship’s doctor?”
“I think we’re okay,” Holly says, leaning against Alec.
Ransom holsters his weapon and pulls me into his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” I assure him, sagging against the warmth of his chest. “I figured the gun was a fake. Mostly.”
“Mostly?” Ransom raises a brow.
“Well, there was that twenty percent chance I was wrong and about to get a bullet blown through me,” I admit. “But I liked those odds better than letting them throw us overboard.”
Ransom pulls the pistol from his pocket and tosses it in the air, catching it with a flick of his wrist. “Plastic,” he confirms. “Although I have to say, your talent for finding yourself at gunpoint—real or fake—is uncanny.”
“It’s a gift,” I deadpan.
Wes claps a hand on Ransom’s shoulder. “Quite the Christmas Eve excitement. Remind me never to host a reunion group over the holidays again.” He winks at me. “Although I suspect trouble follows Mrs. Troublefield Baxter regardless of the passenger manifest.”
“Very funny,” I say, mock-socking him on the arm.
Wes squints at something just over my shoulder and smiles. “Well, at least something good came out of this mess.”
I turn to see Holly and Alec locked in an embrace as years of hidden feelings finally find an expression. Their silhouettes merge against the moonlight and their lips meet in a kiss that seems to defy time itself. They break apart, only to dive back in again, oblivious to everything around them.
Joy and Dash float forward, looking tenderly at the scene, and Dash wraps his arm around Joy’s transparent shoulders.
“It looks like our work here is done,” he says softly.
Joy’s smile is as warm as sunshine. “It took long enough.”
They share a laugh, then begin to slowly float upward. Joy catches my eye and mouths “Thank you” as they ascend into the night sky.
“Goodbye,” I whisper, waving as they dissolve into a spray of red and green stars that shimmer like pure holiday magic before fading into the darkness.
Ransom pulls me closer. “They finally got their happy ending,” he murmurs, following my gaze to the now-empty sky.
“And helped create another one,” I say, nestling against him as the first snowflakes of Christmas begin to fall gently around us. “Plus, we got justice for those who deserve it.”
Across the dark water, a church bell somewhere on shore begins to toll midnight. Christmas Eve has become Christmas Day, and for once, the ghosts in my life have found their rest, leaving behind only the promise of holiday magic and the comforting weight of mysteries solved.