Page 22

CHAPTER 22

“W e don’t mind if you share,” I tell Becky Lee Darling as we nosh on our waffle ice cream monstrosities—or rather masterpieces. “You know, about the trouble you’re having at home,” I say, watching her methodically shred that napkin into tiny squares.

Bess nods encouragingly at the woman.

“Yeah.” Nettie leans in hard. “Spill the juicy deets.”

“ Nettie ,” Bess howls as she tosses her napkin at her. “This is not juicy, this is serious. Trouble at home is no laughing matter. You and I both know that.”

I nod to Becky Lee. “I’m more than familiar with it myself.”

“Well, in that case.” Becky Lee clears her throat as her fingers continue the destruction of her napkin. “I hope you don’t mind me unloading on you. It’s just—Patrick, well, he’s...” She glances around the deck as if she’s checking for eavesdroppers. “Everyone sees the successful attorney side of him. The provider, the family man. But at home...” her words trail off as she stares vacantly out to the ocean. “He works these killer hours at the firm. By the time he gets home, he’s cranky and starving, and nothing I do is right. The dinner is always too cold or too spicy. The house is too quiet or too messy. Last week, I bought the wrong brand of coffee and the way he went off on me, you’d think I had committed a capital offense.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Bess says mournfully. “That must be so difficult.”

“And hard on your spirit,” I say and Becky Lee’s face fills with a bit of relief as if someone is finally seeing her.

“The verbal jabs are no fun. And they seem to be never-ending.” She swallows hard. “In the beginning, it was little things like, ‘Can’t you cook a decent meal? ’ Or, ‘Why do you waste so much time with that ridiculous knitting?’ But lately...” Her voice drops a notch. “Last month, I forgot to pick up his dry cleaning. He told me I was as useless as his first wife. Then he laughed and said he was joking. But I knew better.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” I say. “My ex used to say cutting remarks like that and I did my best to brush him off, but they hurt just the same.”

And come to find out, all of those jokes about him finding another woman weren’t really jokes at all. But I choose to leave that little detail out of the conversation in the event I send her mind sideways for no reason at all.

Becky Lee nods to no one in particular. “I’ve been trying to get him into counseling. I found this great therapist who specializes in couples on the verge of—” She catches herself. “Well, couples who need help communicating. But Patrick says he doesn’t have time. He says if I was a better wife, we wouldn’t need therapy anyway.”

My jaw roots to the floor. A part of me wants to demand she leave him. But I’m in no position to have that strong of an opinion on another woman’s marriage. Even though I thoroughly do.

“Look”—Bess leans in—“I’m going to be perfectly honest. I think you should set up a private savings account in your name only in case things continue to go south for you in the marriage department.”

Nettie hitches a thumb at her bestie. “What can I say, she’s a ball of sunshine.”

Becky Lee gives a quiet laugh. “Well, I’m one step ahead of you in that respect. I’ve already done it. I took that step about a year ago.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” I say just above a whisper.

Becky Lee fiddles with the ice cream in front of her that’s quickly turning into a smoothie. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. He’s not really a bad person. He’s just very stressed. And I really don’t want to rock the boat. Things are just a little complicated right now.”

I reach over and give her hand a squeeze. “It sounds as if you both needed this vacation.”

“More than you’ll ever know,” she shoots back. She straightens for a moment. “So how is Brad’s case going?” She forces a tiny smile my way. “I’m shocked there hasn’t been an arrest yet. I mean, every single person here for the Whispers of the Wicked cruise is basically an amateur sleuth. Of course, they’ve all got theories going. They’re even comparing notes at breakfast and debating motives over dinner. In fact, half the people with us have their own true crime podcasts, and the other half probably solve cold cases in their sleep.”

Oddly, her sudden enthusiasm about the case seems to have lightened the mood among us. Then again, talking about someone else’s tragedy is often easier than facing your own.

“So what’s the consensus?” I ask, shoveling in a glorious bite of warm waffles with rich chocolate lava ice cream. There just so happens to be a dessert on board called Mocha Lava Cake and it happens to be my favorite. As soon as I saw this flavor in the shop, I knew I wasn’t walking out the door without it.

“Actually”—Becky Lee cringes for a moment—“the fingers are pointing pretty hard at Elvie. But Nobody wants to see her arrested, even if she did it. She and Brad were on the brink of divorce, you know. This was the second marriage for both of them. Brad didn’t have kids, but Elvie has two grown sons from her previous thirty-year union.” She leans in. “Her older son is a notorious alcoholic. He had a great construction job but couldn’t hold it down. Apparently, he got hurt on the job because he showed up three sheets to the wind. Now he’s living on disability and about to sue his employer. Elvie thinks that’s his golden ticket. He’s crashed about six cars in the time I’ve known Elvie and Brad. In fact, Brad told Elvie to take her son’s keys away. He said that man was going to hurt someone someday and the blood would be on her hands, too.”

I tick my head to the side. “He wasn’t wrong.”

Becky Lee nods as well. “And her other son is no better if you ask me. He works in advertising and has four kids. The first is from a previous marriage, and he treats that kid so poorly because of it. Brad wasn’t a fan of his either. In fact, I heard the two of them actually came to blows once.”

“Ooh.” Bess winces. “That’s never a good thing. I can see how that can drive a wedge between spouses, too.”

Nettie grunts. “I hated every move my ex made. But if he even thought about hitting one of my kids, no matter how old they were, I’d have a body to bury.”

“And I’d help you hide it,” Bess tells her.

Sassy laughs. “I knew you ladies were experts at what you do. There’s a pool going on the other side on whether or not the three of you are seasoned serial killers yourselves.”

My mouth opens as I look at the sparkling specter but don’t say a word.

“There’s something else.” Becky Lee takes a deep breath as she looks my way. “I heard a rumor that Brad had a mistress.”

The entire lot of us gives a loud gasp.

“Who?” I ask, indulging in another creamy-laden bite of my waffle. When there’s no popcorn, you just need to improvise. And honestly, frozen dairy products are so much better than anything grown on a stalk.

Becky Lee shrugs. “Heck, if I know. Probably some groupie. She might even be on this ship. All I know is that apparently, Elvie has known about it for weeks.”

We gasp again.

“For weeks?” I lean back. “Why in the world would she agree to take a cruise with him? I was cheated on once. It’s horrible, degrading, and cruel in every way. And I certainly didn’t take a cruise with him once I found out. In fact, that’s exactly how I ended up on the Emerald Queen all by my lonesome. Or at least I was lonely until I found these two.” I nod to Bess and Nettie and they both blow me a kiss.

Bess sighs in Becky Lee’s direction. “Well, finding out that your husband is a cheat is terrible. I can attest to that as well. The first thing I did was get tested to make sure the big slime didn’t pass along some slimy surprise.”

Oh my word! I don’t believe I ever got tested for a slimy surprise myself. Did I? If I have, it has completely slipped my mind.

Another pod of dolphins appears, followed by what looks like a whale spouting water high into the sky, and suddenly a crowd surges toward that end of the deck.

“Oh, I just love whales,” Becky Lee shouts as she jumps up with her phone in hand. “Please excuse me, ladies. But I just need to get a few pictures.”

“ Wait ,” I call out as she’s about to dart into the mob of bodies that have suddenly materialized. “Who did you hear that rumor from? Are they on the ship?”

“Reed Williams,” she tosses his name over her shoulder as she heads for the rail.

Duly noted.

Bess and Nettie join the whale-watching crowd, but as for me, I’m too busy calculating the fastest route to the infirmary.

Because nothing says honeymoon surprise quite like finding out that I’ve brought along more than my emotional baggage to my new marriage.

Sometimes solving a murder takes brains, sometimes it takes luck, and sometimes it takes a full panel of STD tests. Here’s hoping the ship’s doctor has a sense of humor—and maybe a rush option.