Page 10

CHAPTER 10

T he click of determined heels against marble announces Tinsley’s arrival as she parts the crowd of beauty enthusiasts like a shark through a school of well-dressed fish.

I take that back. Juxtaposing Tinsley to a shark is an insult to sharks everywhere. And perhaps witches, too.

The chandeliers here in the Coral Crown Lounge catch the auburn highlights in Tinsley’s chestnut mane, and her usual scowl looks especially hardened this morning.

She makes a beeline for our little group, ignoring the tower of pastel macarons I’m attempting to balance on my plate. The classical music seems to fade as she comes in hot, or maybe that’s just the sound of my appetite dying.

“ Trixie .” She says my name as if she’s reading it off a list of ship violations. “I have a very serious problem that only you can solve.”

Bess and Nettie gasp so hard their pastry towers give a mean wobble.

“Did hell just freeze over?” Nettie clutches her invisible pearls.

“Quick, someone check to see if the woman’s got a fever,” Bess adds. “I think she’s delusional.”

I’d laugh, but they’re not being funny. I’m the last person Tinsley would come to for help of any kind.

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” I say to Tinsley and watch as her eyes twitch. “What’s the crisis? Do you need me to teach a class? I mean, Wes gave me time off for my honeymoon, but if you’re in a pinch I’d be happy to help.”

I’m not just a permanent resident on this floating paradise, I teach art classes on board as well. With the exception of this particular cruise. Both Ransom and I were supposed to be free from any outside duties other than tending to each other. It was a nice thought while it lasted. But thankfully, one thing remains the same—that man will end each and every day in my bed. All night long.

I have a feeling the rest of our lives will be one long honeymoon.

Tinsley balls her fists as she leans my way. “I need your help with something.”

Nettie shakes her head in disbelief. “Out there somewhere, pigs must be flying—right before they end up at the breakfast buffet.” She pats her stomach as she eyes the offerings before us.

It’s just like Nettie to relate everything back to food. And come to think of it, I’d rather gobble up an entire herd of flying bacon than team up with Tinsley. She’s pretty much tried to make my life miserable ever since I set foot on this ship. And she’s succeeded.

That whole flying pigs thing Nettie just spouted is more or less true.

Tinsley would rather eat her shoe, and perhaps the shoe of every passenger on this ship, even the smelly ones, than ask me for so much as a glass of water.

Bess shakes her head. “Tinsley Thornton asking for help—from Trixie Troublefield? That seems about as likely as the buffet running out of bacon.”

I tip my head her way. “It’s Trixie Troublefield Baxter ,” I say. “And I’ve seen a buffet or two run out of bacon before. But that’s only because the three of us showed up for it.” True story.

And I knew I wasn’t the only one daydreaming of bacon after Nettie’s swine-based soliloquy. Bess, Nettie, and I have been around each other for so long now, we essentially share the same brain—and have the same appetite for salted breakfast meats.

I turn my full attention to the feisty brunette at hand.

Tinsley lifts a finger. “I came to you because—” she starts.

“Because she’s so good at stealing your men?” Nettie quips before shrugging my way. “I couldn’t resist.”

“She didn’t steal them,” Tinsley hisses. “They just temporarily lost their minds.”

“Very thoroughly and repeatedly,” Bess adds as she gobbles down a macaron.

But before Tinsley can respond with what I’m sure would be a perfectly venomous comeback, Elvie’s voice cuts through the chatter.

Elvie Whipple commands the room to attention as every last one of us turns our attention to the front as she stands at a podium wearing a hot pink suit.

“Welcome, one and all,” she shouts into the microphone set in front of her and nearly blows our eardrums out. “ Ooh , sorry.” She tones it down a bit. “I want to thank everyone who showed up despite the tragedy that has befallen my husband.” Elvie bows her head for a moment and I can see her hands trembling as she holds out a piece of paper in front of her. “I know that each precious soul who made the trek to be part of the Whispers of the Wicked cruise loved Brad as much as I did. But seeing that he was a big believer in life moving on after tragedy, I’m determined to do just that in his honor. And I hope you’ll join me in enjoying your lives and this cruise to the fullest.”

A light round of applause circles the room.

“It’s true.” Her perfectly lined lips curve into something between a smile and a grimace. “Brad would have wanted us to celebrate life—and beauty. That’s why I created Luscious and Delicious. It wasn’t just about making women feel beautiful on the outside, but confident on the inside, too. And I’m thrilled to pieces to share that vision with all of you today.” She beams a toothy smile at the room as she says it.

Bess leans my way. “It might just be me”—she whispers—“but this woman seems less like a grieving widow and more like someone who just found out that calories don’t count on a cruise—and maybe that dead husband doesn’t count either.”

“Maybe she’s just good at concealing things,” Nettie whispers back. “She does own a cosmetics empire.”

“ Shh ,” Tinsley is quick to shush them both. “Let’s hear what else she’s hiding—I mean, sharing .”

Elvie sighs out at the crowd with a content smile. “The idea for Luscious and Delicious came to me one night when I was eating chocolate-covered strawberries,” she tells the crowd, rapt at attention. “I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful if our beauty products could be just as delectable as our desserts? Why shouldn’t luxury feel— and taste—amazing?”

She spins her tale of cosmetic innovation effortlessly. She starts at the conception of the company then takes us through time right up until this very moment.

“Which brings me to our lovely brunch spread. I must ask—how are you enjoying your treats?”

A chorus of delicious and amazing rings out.

“I’m so glad to hear it,” she practically purrs. “Because every dessert, smoothie, and tea you’ve been enjoying was made with Luscious and Delicious products. From our vanilla-infused lip glosses to our chocolate-based bronzers, everything is safe, edible, and as you can plainly see—absolutely divine.”

The entire room gasps with delight while Elvie pauses for effect, surveying the room like a queen addressing her subjects—and for the most part, the subjects seem rather enthralled to be noshing on forty-dollar lipsticks.

Although Bess, Nettie, and I exchange a less than amused look. We’ve eaten outside of our comfort wheelhouse before, but never straight from our makeup bag.

“Well”—Nettie examines her half-eaten cupcake—“that explains why this frosting tastes like cherry lip gloss.”

Bess makes a face. “And I bet I know what happens to any product she’s not able to move. She puts it in a blender and downs it for breakfast.”

Elvie wraps up her speech and invites everyone to continue with the culinary cosmetic feast and to feel free to move up to the front for their complimentary makeovers as well.

The crowd surges toward the makeover stations as if there’s a two-for-one special on eternal youth. And I waste no time making my way through the chaos, determined to reach Elvie before she disappears behind her wall of perfectly contoured volunteers.

But Tinsley cuts me off at the pass. “Where do you think you’re going?” she snips as she pulls me back by the elbow.

“To get some answers,” I say, prying myself loose. “And maybe figure out how to make my breakfast double as lipstick. I’m all about efficiency these days.”

“Not without me you don’t.”

I inch back as I inspect her. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, we’re right back to that big problem I need you to help me solve.”

“Which is?”

“I need you to help me track down Brad Whipple’s killer.”

I lift my chin at the thought.

For once, Tinsley and I are on the same page—albeit a homicidal one.

I nod her way. “I guess we’re joining forces.” I’m not one to fight a gift horse in the mouth—not even a stubborn mule like Tinsley. Heck, if she helps solve this case, that means I can land myself in the honeymoon suite where I belong—horizontal.

“Joining forces?’ Tinsley balks. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Okay,” I tell her. “Regardless, we’re bringing down a killer.” I turn my sights on Elvie Whipple. “In the least, we’re about to shake down a suspect.”

“Nothing can go wrong,” Tinsley whispers as we make our way through the room.

“Nothing will,” I say just as a sassy redhead materializes out of nowhere and floats down from the ceiling.

And just like that, I have a feeling things are about to go very, very wrong.

Time to find out if our cosmetics queen helped arrange her husband’s permanent retirement.

After all, they say you have to suffer for beauty, but I’m betting murder is bad for business.