Page 35

CHAPTER 35

While Trixie’s Away, the Ship Will Play—The Elodie Edition

A ttention, amorous adventurers! While our detective duo conducts their own version of port of call inspection—and honestly, who knew ship security could involve so many private demonstrations?—let’s dive into today’s steamy inquiry.

Dear Elodie,

The cruise director mentioned something about a couples paint and sip class in the ship’s art gallery after hours. My husband thinks it sounds tame, but I’ve noticed they advertise live models . Should we sign up?

Artistically Aroused

My creative cutie,

Tame is the last word I’d use for that particular evening activity. The art gallery after dark is like a private studio for exploring the human form . And trust me, those live models are very dedicated to their craft.

The easel placement offers surprisingly intimate angles, and that chaise lounge has inspired more artistic expression than the Louvre. Though I do recommend bringing an extra shirt. Body painting wasn’t officially on the curriculum until I suggested it, and that paint can be—well, enthusiastically applied.

Painting passionately,

XOXO Elodie

Trixie

The thing about murder investigations is that half the time the killer might as well be wearing a name tag and waving a flag. But we get so caught up looking for complicated answers that we miss the simple truth strutting right past us in high heels. Once again, the we would be me .

Tonight, however, all those pieces are finally clicking into place.

I spot Becky Lee Darling slipping into a shadowed corner of the lounge, far away from the festivities here at the Midnight Murder Mingle being held in honor of those who showed up for the Whispers of the Wicked podcast cruise.

She’s all alone, staring off toward the empty seats deeper in the formal dining room, just standing there like a lady in waiting. A lady unwittingly waiting for me.

Perfect timing.

My fingers still tingle from touching that rhinestone brooch at her murder merch table. And although there wasn’t one that was an exact match for the one found next to Brad’s body, they looked very similar, albeit in the shape of guns, deer stalker hats, and skulls and crossbones.

Sassy swoops in, her countenance glowing brighter than the chandeliers that are hardly giving off light. I get that they’re going for a moody mysterious theme, but there are some of us who can’t drive at night, let alone walk a straight line in the dark. And I fall squarely in that category.

Getting old is fun.

“Becky Lee?” Sassy shakes her head and a spray of baby pink stars light up the vicinity like sparklers. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“Hang onto your victory roll,” I tell her as we speed toward the woman. “Because I’m hoping to make things as clear as crystal.”

Becky Lee turns my way and does a double take. “Oh, Trixie?” She squints out at me. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

I clear my throat. “Yes, actually, I was just commenting on how clear the crystal is. The housekeeping staff goes above and beyond in every capacity.”

“That they do.” She gives a little laugh. Her bun gleams in this dim light, more silver than it is brunette tonight, and she’s tossed that purple knit cardigan over her teal-colored gown. “And I’ve appreciated every single animal they’ve fashioned out of a towel for me,” Becky Lee goes on. “In fact, I’ve saved them all and lined them up on the sofa in our cabin. My husband thinks it’s silly.” She sighs hard as she says it and suddenly my defenses go down.

Sassy leans my way. “I think her husband is silly.”

I nod because I happen to agree. But murder isn’t silly, and I certainly hope I’m wrong about where I’m going next.

“How are things with your husband?” I ask as I approach, keeping my voice gentle. The puzzle pieces are clicking into place so fast they’re snapping, crackling, and popping off in my head.

“Fine,” she says as she quickly wipes a tear from her cheek, one that I hadn’t even noticed. Darn lighting. “I was just thinking about Patrick, about what the future might hold for the two of us. We’re not perfect, but we’ve had some pretty great moments.”

My heart aches just hearing it.

“I could say the same about my ex and me,” I confess. “Although I did the right thing by dumping him before he gave me some exotic disease from all of his extra-marital trysts. He was a piece of work, and still is, but I can think of at least two decent things that came from our union. We share two kids. And you know what? As soon as I found out about his sexual lunacy, I didn’t even stay for them. I left for me. It was the safest and the sanest thing for my heart and my soul.” I nod her way, hoping she’ll connect the dots in her own situation. No woman should be mistreated by a man. That’s not what the Good Lord put us here for. Far from it. “My ex wasn’t winning any awards for husband of the year.”

“Patrick isn’t winning any awards either. And believe me, I’ve been thinking about that talk we had outside the ice cream parlor with Bess and Nettie.”

I nod. “You mentioned that you already had a solo bank account.” I watch her face carefully. “You’ve been planning to leave him for some time, haven’t you?”

Her eyes widen a notch. “Yes, I think I already told you that. But they were just thoughts, nothing more than fantasies. I mean, there are so many logistics to doing something like that. It’s such a scary step—mostly it’s an expensive one.”

“Reed mentioned that someone was stealing from the haunted house venture he shared with Brad.”

She squints my way once again, but it has nothing to do with the dim lighting this time.

I lean in. “Would you happen to know who was dipping into the funds?”

Her mouth falls open and she suddenly can’t seem to catch her breath.

Sassy claps her hands and hoots. “Judging by the dumbstruck look on her face, I say cuff her.”

I wrinkle my nose at the flirty phantasm because I don’t make it a practice to travel with handcuffs. Elodie, on the other hand, most likely has them on her person at all times. Come to think of it, she’s probably cuffed as many people as Ransom has, if not more. My money is on more.

“You know”—Becky Lee wags a finger at me—“I do remember Brad saying that it was pretty easy for him to take a loan from his real estate venture. I guess that’s one mystery solved. I mean, the guy is dead. There’s not a thing we can do about it now.”

“You heard him admit to that?” I ask, amused.

“I did. I mean, I didn’t physically see him make the withdrawals, but I heard the man say it with my own ears. Reed must know that Brad was the one helping himself. Who else could have done it?” She bites down on her lip, and judging by the way her lips are curving, I’d bet all the chips in the casino that she’s biting down on a smile.

“Becky Lee.” My voice is soft once again. “You did some organizational work for Brad, didn’t you? Some light accounting? Elvie mentioned it.” I take a step closer. “It was you who took the money from that account, wasn’t it?”

“There’s the zinger.” Sassy howls so loud it’s as if she’s cheering me on with a supernatural megaphone.

So nice yet so distracting.

Becky Lee gasps before glancing over her shoulder toward the exit. “Trixie, please stop.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sassy snips my way. “We’re getting to the good part.”

The good part indeed. More like the deadly part.

“Is that when the affair began?” I press on. “Why in the world were you sleeping with Brad Whipple?” A thought hits me and I suck in a quick breath. “Was it to avoid jail time?”

A sickly moan escapes from her. “Oh, Trixie.” Her eyes trace out my features. “I didn’t want to do it. Don’t you see? Patrick drove me to it! The man is a beast, Trixie. He’s cruel and mean, and I can’t do anything right around him. Do you know what it’s like to wake up each and every day and have everything be all your fault?” She tosses her hands in exasperation. “And don’t you dare answer that.” Her speech grows pressured and her eyes grow wild. “I’ve seen your husband, Trixie. He’s not hard to look at, and he treats you like gold. Heck, he treated me like gold when we crossed paths.” She growls in frustration. “Yes, I worked for Brad. The guy was a slime. He was always coming onto me. And after helping myself to his haunted piggy bank a few times, he caught me.” She shrugs. “I had no choice but to do whatever he wanted. I pretended that I wanted it, too.”

I nod. “But what you really wanted was his money.”