Page 29 of Cruel Christmas Cruise (Cruising Through Midlife: Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries #12)
Suddenly Hitched—What a Trip!
D ear Wonderful Reader,
Thank you for joining me aboard the Emerald Queen of the Seas for a Christmas cruise filled with festive cheer, class reunions, a couple of out-of-this-world matchmakers, and—because it’s me we’re talking about—a dash of murder.
I hope you enjoyed our journey through the misty British Isles as much as I enjoyed unraveling the mystery (although next time, I much prefer fewer close encounters with killers wielding fake weapons).
As we dock at the final chapter of this adventure, I’m reminded that the best mysteries, like the best holidays, bring people together—sometimes in the most unexpected ways.
Whether it’s reconnecting with old friends, making peace with exes, or finding happiness again after you thought it was lost forever, there’s nothing quite like the magic of Christmas. .. and justice.
You’re always welcome aboard for another voyage. After all, trouble has a way of finding this Troublefield—even if I am a Baxter now—especially on the high seas.
Until our next adventure,
Merry Christmas and I hope your holidays are merry and bright,
XOXO Trixie
P.S. Nettie insists I tell you that she did, in fact, see the Loch Ness Monster, regardless of what anyone else claims. And who knows? In a world where a couple of ghosts of Christmas past help solve a murder, perhaps Nessie deserves the benefit of the doubt.
Family Group Chat
Parker: Merry Christmas, everyone!
Abbey: Merry Christmas! Parker, you’re so lucky getting to spend it with Mom in London while I’m stuck with Dad and his burnt pancakes.
Stanton: They’re not burnt. They’re caramelized. There’s a culinary difference.
Trixie: Merry Christmas to all! Rumor has it, the pub here does a traditional Christmas lunch that could feed a small army. No cooking disasters from me this year!
Neelie: Merry Christmas, family! I got Stanton a silk tie with little reindeer on it. I just can’t wait to see it on him. I bet he will look so extinguished!
Emerson: Merry Christmas! Dad, please tell me you’re wearing the Santa hat I packed for you.
Ransom: I plead the fifth.
Trixie: He absolutely is. I have photographic evidence for future blackmail.
Stanton: Send those to me. I’ll pay top dollar.
Abbey: Dad tried to cook a turkey. The fire department says Merry Christmas, by the way.
Parker: Some traditions transcend international boundaries, I see.
Neelie: I think firefighters are just THE MOST heroic! And have I mentioned HOT? One of them took a selfie with me!
Trixie: Only my ex could manage to keep up the tradition of setting something on fire even when I’m 3,000 miles away.
Stanton: It’s my gift to you. Consistency.
Neelie: Christmas is just MAGICAL! I bought everyone matching stockings! Next year, I’ll get some for you, too, Trixie and Ransom!
Stanton: If it makes you feel better, Trix, our daughter nearly solved a mystery today. The case of the missing presents.
Abbey: They were in his closet. The same place he hides everything. Solve a case ?
Trixie: That’s my girl!
Parker: Next year, we all need to be together. No murders, no fires, no international waters.
Trixie: Where’s the fun in that? Kidding! That would be a dream.
Ransom: Merry Christmas, everyone. Even with an ocean between us, this is already the best Christmas I’ve had in years.
Trixie: Agreed. MERRY CHRISTMAS, everyone!
Christmas Day on the Emerald Queen of the Seas dawns with the subtlety of a Vegas casino as she docks in Greenwich, right back where she started this infamous holiday voyage.
Every surface sparkles with tinsel, holly, and enough twinkle lights to qualify as their own constellation.
The air is thick with cinnamon, pine, and the distinctive scent of passengers desperate to disembark after a week of forced festivities and one shocking murder.
Okay, so they’re not so eager to leave. Most of them look as if they wish they could move onto the ship with the rest of us.
“Another successful voyage,” Captain Wes Crawford booms from his position near the gangway, resplendent once again in his tailored Santa suit.
The velvet hugs his broad shoulders in a way that makes just about every woman here linger just a bit longer than necessary. “Minus the homicide, of course.”
“The murder was the highlight for some,” I mutter, adjusting the tight emerald sweater Elodie insisted was absolutely required Christmas attire.
It matches Ransom’s tie, which should be annoying but is actually rather sweet.
We’ve become one of those couples. Send help.
Or chocolate croissants. Or lock us in a room.
Preferably the latter. Oh heck—all three.
Bess looks elegant in a crimson pantsuit while handing out a candy cane to each departing passenger. “Only you would consider solving a murder the perfect holiday activity, Trixie.”
“Some people do crosswords. I do corpses,” I shrug. “Everyone needs a hobby.”
Nettie swoops in with what appears to be actual working fairy lights woven through her holiday sweater.
“Captain Crawford! Your Santa suit is positively sinful this year. Did they take it in around the North Pole region, too?” She winks so dramatically it’s practically audible.
Wes’ cheeks redden to match his attire, but Nettie lifts a finger before he can respond.
“I bet you’ve got dozens of ladies volunteering to sit on your lap this Christmas.
If you started a line, it would stretch to the River Thames! ”
“Oh please,” Elodie interjects, appearing at Nettie’s side in a dress that lets us know exactly which list she’s on. “If that suit were any tighter, we’d know what he got for Christmas and whether he’s been naughty or nice.”
Tinsley Thornton, clipboard in hand and irritation in every line of her body, rolls her eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t fall out and roll across the deck. “Could we please maintain some professionalism? There are passengers present.”
Nettie snorts. “They’re too busy sucking on candy canes to notice that Santa’s sack is particularly well-filled this year.”
I catch sight of Holly and Alec making their way toward us through the crowd, hand in hand with matching smiles lighting up their faces.
It’s remarkable how quickly two people can go from just friends to practically radiating heart-shaped emojis when they finally admit what’s been obvious to everyone else for years.
“Captain Crawford,” Alec says, extending his free hand while keeping the other firmly entwined with Holly’s. “Thank you for an—eventful cruise.”
“We mean that sincerely,” Holly adds as her eyes crinkle at the corners with a smile. “Despite everything, it turned out to be exactly what we needed.” The look she gives Alec is so sweet it could make buttercream frosting taste bitter by comparison.
“And thank you, Trixie,” Alec says, turning to me. “For, well, everything. Including catching the killers and making us see what’s been right in front of us all along.” He looks at Holly with the kind of adoration that belongs on the cover of a romance novel.
“Sometimes it takes a little detective work to solve the mystery of the heart,” I say with a smile. “Although I suspect Joy and Dash would say it’s about time.”
Holly laughs, and then her expression turns thoughtful. “You know, I had the strangest dream last night. About Joy.”
“Really?” I try to keep my expression neutral even though my pulse is quickening. “What about?”
“It was so vivid,” Holly says. “She was just radiating happiness while telling me it was time to move forward. That she’d always wanted what was best for Alec.”
Alec nods, his eyes wide. “I dreamed about Dash, too. Same thing. He said life was for the living, and that Holly and I should live it together.”
“Isn’t that wild?” Holly says, squeezing Alec’s hand. “And the wildest thing yet is that they both gave us their blessing.”
“Then I’d say it’s cosmically official,” I tell them. “I think the universe has given you its seal of approval.”
They share a laugh that speaks volumes of their newfound lightness, as if an invisible weight has been lifted from both their shoulders. With final wishes of Merry Christmas and promises to stay in touch, they make their way down the gangway, still hand in hand.
My phone chimes with an incoming text. I glance at the screen and my heart leaps. “Parker is already on his way to the restaurant,” I announce, shoving my phone back into my pocket. “We should get moving if we want to make our reservation.”
Ransom checks his watch. “The Crown Jewel is notoriously strict about seating times, even on Christmas.”
“A pub named The Crown Jewel?” Bess arches a perfect brow. “Are we sure my credit card can handle it?”
Ransom and I invited everyone to join us, although only Bess, Nettie, and Wes took us up on it.
“Blame Ransom’s FBI connections,” I say to Bess. “Apparently, thwarting international criminals gets you priority seating during the holidays.”
“And the meal is on me,” Ransom tells her with a wink. “Merry Christmas.”
We say our hasty goodbyes to Tinsley, who acknowledges us with a tight smile that suggests she’s already planning next year’s crew assignments—preferably ones that will put several oceans between us.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Elodie calls after us like the dare it is.
“That leaves the field wide open.” Nettie cackles.
“Have fun in jolly old England,” I sing to my blonde bestie.
Elodie’s grin turns predatory. “Oh, I intend to thoroughly explore the local attractions .”
With that promising declaration, we set off. Bess, Nettie, Wes, Ransom, and I race through the streets of London looking a little like a geriatric track team, which is to say, with enthusiasm but questionable speed.