Page 34

CHAPTER 34

“O h, heavens no.” Elvie practically laughs off the idea of stabbing her husband in the back in a rage-induced fury.

I wouldn’t have laughed it off. In fact, I would have done it. Heck, the time served might have even been worth the effort. A cheating ex can drive a woman to murder. It’s been done before.

But despite the fact, I shoot Tinsley a look for even insinuating it—so clearly, that is.

Elvie gives a wistful shake of the head. “I’m not into blood and gore, despite the fact I was his sidekick for that wicked podcast.” She rolls her eyes at the thought. “Besides, I found out about the affair a year ago, and, well, I confided in Reed and then decided to have an affair of my own.” Her eyes close a moment as Tinsley and I exchange a glance. “I couldn’t take Brad’s betrayal anymore. And Reed has always been so kind. I guess I was primed for it.”

Wow, I did not see that coming.

“Yesterday at the meeting”—I say, ignoring Tinsley’s raised finger—“Reed mentioned that financial disputes could cause their fair share of homicides. And you added, ‘Especially when large sums of money go missing.’ You were speaking from experience, weren’t you?”

Elvie lifts her chin. “Yes. After I discovered Brad’s theft from my corporation, I decided to do some creative financing of my own.”

“Define creative ,” Tinsley demands.

“Let the woman finish,” I say.

“By stealing from myself.” Elvie sighs toward the ceiling. “From my personal savings. It’s not a crime. The amounts weren’t large enough to worry about flags. Banks these days want to know everything—where money comes from, where it goes. I already told the ship’s detective as much. I wanted that money in my private account.”

I gasp softly. So that was Ransom’s source—Elvie herself .

“What about this Sassy person?” Tinsley asks in haste. “Is she on the ship? Maybe she’s his mistress. Or his killer!”

“Not possible.” Elvie shakes her head. “She was neither the mistress nor the killer. Plus, she’s dead.”

“That I am.” Sassy nods my way. “But Elvie is right. If I were here, in person with Elvie, I would have made her pamper herself each day until this trip came to a conclusion. And then I’d make sure she took care of herself once she got home as well. She’s such a sweet soul. She doesn’t deserve any of this.”

Tinsley turns my way. “So, I guess Sassy is out of the running as far as the mistress and the killer goes.” She looks at Elvie. “Do you know who the mistress is?”

She shakes her head. “Whoever she is, she remains a mystery to me. Brad covered his tracks well enough. But there were still plenty of clues for me to discover his wayward dalliance. I found the bill to his business credit card. It was loaded with hotel stays—receipts to lingerie shops, jewelry stores. And that was just the beginning. If Sassy were still alive, I’m sure she would have gotten to the bottom of it. But I was too hurt to dig any deeper. I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out what to do. In the beginning, I was secretly hoping it was a passing phase, but these last six months proved me wrong. I should have left immediately. I came up with so many excuses not to like the fact sometimes the devil you know is better than the one you don’t. Because divorce is expensive. Because… well, I’ve finally run out of excuses. Sassy would have murdered them both by now.” She chuckles to herself and Sassy laughs along with her. Most likely because it’s true. “She didn’t care for him after we found out about the affair. And ironically, he never cared for her to begin with.”

I glance at the pretty poltergeist with a flair for all things vintage, and she nods, affirming Elvie’s words.

That’s right. Sassy mentioned as much.

“Why is that?” I ask. “Why didn’t Brad care for Sassy?”

“Oh, she won’t know,” Sassy brushes it off. “Neither of us could figure it out.”

“Because she looked exactly like his first wife.” Elvie doesn’t hesitate with the answer and manages to stun both the living and the dead into submission. “Of course, Sassy wondered the same thing, but I couldn’t tell her the truth. It would have made her uneasy. Brad’s first wife left him because he was unfaithful to her. But she was the love of his life—the one who got away—even in marriage. He said he’d regret cheating on her until his dying day.” She turns back to the darkness beyond the window. “We both had regrets. I was the one he cheated with.”

Tinsley, Sassy, and I all gasp in unison.

“That’s terrible,” Sassy says.

“Well, you know what they say.” Tinsley folds her arms. “You lose him how you got him.”

“Tinsley,” I hiss at the chestnut-haired menace. “She lost him to death .”

“No, it’s okay.” Elvie lifts a hand. “She’s right. I had lost him to the affair long before he died. And that’s the real reason I was too stubborn to let him go with something simple like a divorce. I knew I’d hear that from people—especially his first wife.” She scans the crowd. “Although his first wife isn’t on this cruise.” Her eyes bounce from one passenger to the next. “But a killer is.” She nods at the two of us. “And it isn’t me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a party to attend.”

She drifts toward the buffet and is accosted by a jovial crowd long before she ever picks up a plate.

“I believe Elvie,” I say mournfully. “Which means we’re still hunting a killer.”

“Maybe we’ve been bested,” Tinsley says as she looks out at the crowd. “Maybe they’re too clever for us.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Though in my experience, the most dangerous suspects are the ones who think they’re too clever to get caught.

The waitstaff refreshes the table laden with donuts and that sugar-glazed display manages to snag Tinsley’s attention.

“Well, I’m going to load up on carbs,” she says. “I suggest you do the same. I’m assuming an aerobic workout will be required of you as soon as you get back to your honeymoon suite.” She takes off before I can answer.

She’s not wrong.

“ Ooh ,” Sassy gives a ghostly moan of approval. “I’m with her. Why don’t we do a little carb-loading ourselves? You need to keep your energy up for your performance later tonight, and I’d like to tuck away a few crullers for the watch party.”

I’m about to tell her exactly what she can watch and where—and it has nothing to do with Ransom and me when a handsome devil with a thicket full of dark hair strides by.

The scene from the night of the murder comes back to me in one violent snatch, and suddenly I see Brad splayed on the floor again with that rhinestone brooch lying next to him.

A thought hits me like a freight train.

“ Reed ,” I say, breathless, as I jump in front of the man and grab ahold of his wrist as if he were about to fly away. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, anything.” He blinks back, looking caught off guard.

“Who was Brad’s mistress? You must have some idea.”

He ticks his head to the side. “I really wish I knew. And if I did, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell you. The only thing I do know is what Elvie and I found on his credit card receipts.”

“Oh, right,” I say. “She mentioned the hotels, the lingerie, and jewelry shops.”

“That’s how we caught him.” He shakes his head. “Sadly, he didn’t even shower Elvie with those things.”

“Brad Whipple was a mouse, not a man,” Sassy says with as much—well, for a lack of a better word— sass , as she can muster. “I’d hang him by his cookies if the jerk were still alive.”

Reed gives a robust laugh. “I’d do the same, Trixie.” He pauses to inspect me. “You know, you don’t realize it, but you just did an uncanny impersonation of a woman who I hold near and dear to my heart. I was going to make her mine for all of time, but unfortunately, she passed away not long ago.”

Sassy gasps and I quickly let go of his wrist before she says something like?—

“You’re the love of my life, Reed Williams,” she’s quick to profess.

Like that.

He closes his eyes as if he heard, despite the fact I’m no longer aiding in the supernatural effort.

“Well, thank you for telling me what you can about his mistress,” I say to the man. “I hope you have a great rest of the night.”

“You as well.” He takes a step away before backtracking. “Actually, there was one more odd detail. Brad wasn’t just showering his mistress with expensive gifts. He was gifting her an education. If you can believe it, he was paying for nursing school.” He shakes his head as he walks away.

“Nursing school?” Sassy looks stumped by the news, as do I. “Why does that sound familiar?”

“I think—” I scan the crowd—“Becky Lee mentioned her sister was in nursing school.” I rush over to the murder merch table in hopes of finding Becky Lee herself, but she’s nowhere to be found.

Instead, I run my fingers along the rows and rows of merchandise with clever sayings all lined up like darling ducks in a row—right up until my fingers land on something hard and sharp.

I look down and a breath gets caught in my throat.

Not only does Becky Lee Darling sell tote bags and mugs—she sells brooches, too.