Page 36

CHAPTER 36

“C orrection, it’s what I needed ,” Becky Lee Darling growls at me as we stand in a darkened corner of the formal dining room.

Just beyond us is a cast of thousands as they chatter away and nibble on the midnight buffet.

“Trixie, you practically said that I needed the money yourself,” she goes on. “Besides, Brad and Elvie were loaded. They didn’t even notice that money was missing. At least not at first. And, well, after Brad and I started up, I wasn’t stealing anymore. He was giving it to me voluntarily. Once he knew how bad my situation was, he wanted to help.”

I shake my head at her. “He wanted to help himself to you.”

“Wait a minute.” Sassy inches back. “I caught Brad stealing.” Her eyes glow my way. “He knew I was going to tell Elvie. And I would have had I not succumbed to some invisible peanut I inhaled.”

My mouth contorts as I try to piece it together.

“Trixie, I had to do whatever it took,” Becky Lee pleads as she begins to back away. The chatter of conversation is nearly drowned out by the music dominating this empty area of the dining room. I doubt a living soul could hear us. And I know for a fact at least one dead soul is listening in.

I scoff at the woman before me. “You sure did do whatever it took.”

“I had to!” The words explode from her. “Look, I don’t care for orange jumpsuits, Trixie. And I’m trapped in the world’s worst marriage. But I won’t be for long. Brad helped me amass a decent nest egg. And I’m getting my act together, I swear.”

“In nursing school?” I ask as I tip my head her way.

Becky Lee freezes solid.

“Your sister isn’t taking those classes, is she?” I say, inching toward her. “ You are. You were Brad’s mistress and you kept that up so he wouldn’t turn you in. He was blackmailing you.”

A sickly sound escapes her throat, something between a growl and a sob. Her bun has started to come undone, making her look wild around the edges. Like a cornered animal deciding whether to flee or fight. My guess is, she’s about to attempt to do both.

“You don’t understand,” she hisses as she sways on her feet. “He promised to help me escape, to start over. Then he threatened to tell Patrick everything unless I kept?—”

“Kept sleeping with him,” Sassy finishes with disgust. “What a prize.”

I inch back, studying Becky Lee for a moment. “He was a prize you didn’t want. It was getting too dangerous. You were flying too close to the sun. And with nursing school paid for, you didn’t need him anymore. And that’s why you killed him.” My shoulders bounce as if I just spewed common knowledge. “But why something so violent? I wouldn’t have pegged you for someone who would knife a person in the back.”

That toxicology report of Ransom’s hits me like a lightning bolt.

“Oh, Becky Lee,” I groan hard. “You didn’t plan on stabbing him, did you?” The night of the murder flashes through my mind in jags. “You were serving drinks that night right before the party.”

“No—” She shakes her head. “You’re getting the details mixed up.”

“It was you, all right. You gave Brad and Elvie those glasses with Killer King and Killer Queen written on them. Oh my word, you tried to poison him first, didn’t you?” It comes out scolding—as it should. “I remember him sweating and coughing.”

She flinches and I know I’ve struck gold.

“What did you use?” I ask. “Let me rephrase that. Which poison didn’t get the job done?”

“Tetrahydrozoline,” she says lower than a whisper as the look of defeat sweeps across her face.

“Oh wow.” My fingers rise to my lips. “Eye drops?”

Sassy gleams like a flash of lightning. “She did it! You got a confession out of her.”

Not really. He didn’t die from poisoning as far as I know.

“Yes, eye drops,” Becky Lee snips sharp and loud as she goes from defeated to an all-out rage. “But they weren’t working.”

“Oh, they would have worked at the right dose,” I muse. “I’ve seen it done before, right on this ship.” An entire litany of dark memories flits through my mind. “But that kind of poisoning takes time to initiate. It wasn’t working fast enough for you, so you took matters into your own hands. You took that knife from the display table and you finished the job yourself.”

“I was desperate ,” she cries, and her voice cracks. “He was going to tell Patrick everything. He said he was going to ruin everything for me!”

“Just like Sassy Forenza almost ruined everything when she found those mysterious bank transfers?” I ask, and both Becky Lee and Sassy freeze solid. “The two of you killed her to protect your secret, didn’t you? Your dirty little secret and his.”

“What?” Sassy lands right next to me and her features turn sharp and angry.

“I didn’t kill her.” Becky Lee’s hands fly in the air as if it were a stickup. “He told me all about it. He did it. He acted alone, but he said because I knew I was culpable as well if I ever told anyone. Trixie, you have to believe me, Brad was an expert at getting what he wanted.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I say. “How did he kill her?”

“Yeah,” Sassy says, affronted by the fact she was killed at all—as she should be. “How did the weasel land me toes up in the morgue?” She straightens for a moment. “More like, how did he launch me into Paradise where I’m living my best life—even if it is my afterlife.”

I shrug her way. It’s nice to know she’s having a good time.

“Oh, you won’t believe it,” Becky Lee pants, glancing around at a manic pace. “He put peanut oil in her lip gloss!”

Sassy gasps. “But I’m allergic to peanuts.”

I shoot her a look and she gasps twice as hard.

“That arrogant—” An entire litany of expletives rips from her as the lights flicker in the room and something akin to a jag of lightning goes off overhead.

The crowd screams, then quickly reverts to oohs and ahhs . Obviously, they think it’s a part of the evening’s dramatics.

“He knew about her allergy,” Becky Lee insists. “Elvie made sure everyone knew to keep peanuts away from her. Brad figured it was the perfect way to make her death look like an accident.”

“That lying, cheating, murdering—” Sassy’s rage makes every chandelier in the room shiver and quiver. “I knew something was off about those accounts, but I never imagined he’d go this far to cover it up.”

“I made sure Brad didn’t tell anyone our dirty little secrets.” Becky Lee lunges suddenly, snatching a knife from the table behind her. A butter knife, but still. I’m assuming it could do enough damage in the wrong hands. Namely hers. “And I can’t let you tell anyone either.”

“Watch out!” Sassy screams as Becky Lee slashes her way toward me. I do my best to jump out of the line of fire just as Sassy bulldozes her way right through Becky Lee, and oddly enough it causes her to stumble.

“What was that?” Becky Lee grunts as she regains her footing and darts off into the crowd. I take off after her with my heels clicking against the floor like thunder.

“Stop her,” I shout as she barrels toward the buffet, and what few people manage to hear me turn in my direction.

Thankfully, Bess and Nettie happen to be noshing on a couple of chocolate eclairs right next to that mountain of donuts as Becky Lee zooms past them.

“We’re on it,” Bess shouts, chucking her eclair into the air and trying to cut Becky Lee off at the pass. But Becky Lee veers sideways, sending a rather stunning tower of donuts flying to the ceiling.

“Not on my watch,” Nettie howls as she dives to save a chocolate-glazed cruller and causes a chain reaction that sends everything from the Felon’s Feast filet mignon to that Evidence in Cold Storage shrimp platter flying.

But it’s the fact it’s raining donuts that seems to have captured the crowd’s attention. And knowing this crowd, I completely understand why.

“My precious crullers,” Nettie wails as the deep-fried pastries roll across the floor like sugary tumbleweeds.

More screams ignite, and shrieks of terror fill the room as Wes tries to call everyone to order.

Becky Lee races past the chocolate fountain, knocking it sideways, and sends a wave of liquid chocolate splashing across the floor. And just like that, an impromptu slip-and-slide is born that sends several guests spinning—and, well, licking, too.

Becky Lee races toward the exit, but Wes blocks her path. Then in an acrobatic feat worthy of the circus, she hops onto the buffet table and traverses platters of antipasto and mac and cheese alike before attempting to dive right through the massive ice sculpture fashioned to look like handcuffs.

But she doesn’t dive right through them. Instead, she dives partially through them as her rear end lodges through one of the frozen cuffs.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she squawks, stuck halfway through the icy restraints like a cork in a champagne bottle. Her legs kick uselessly behind her, while the front half of her dangles through the sculpture.

The room goes from terrified screams to rip-roaring laughter in three seconds flat.

“Well”—Nettie says, out of breath, as she staggers up next to me with a donut in each hand—“I guess you could say she put herself on ice.”

A loud snap goes off as the icy handcuff gives way, sending Becky Lee sliding down the buffet table face-first, before landing in the chocolate river as she bobsleds her way toward the exit and right into Ransom Baxter’s shiny black Italian leather shoes.

“She did it,” I shout as I dart that way. “She confessed to killing Brad,” I say and the room lights up with gasps.

“What?” Elvie stomps her way over and growls at the woman covered in chocolate on the floor. “How could you? That man adored you!”

“I’m sorry,” I say to Elvie. “But he adored her so much he made her his mistress.”

More gasps ensue, the loudest of which is coming from Patrick Darling, Becky Lee’s donkey of a husband.

Ransom pulls out his cuffs to arrest her just as Wes steps in and grabs him by the wrist.

“Don’t even think about it, buddy,” Wes growls just as an army of security guards storm the lounge and Wes instructs them to haul Becky Lee away instead.

“Wait,” I pant as I pull Ransom close. “She was abused. I want to make sure she gets a decent lawyer. And in the least, a decent psychiatrist.”

Ransom gives a solemn nod. “I’ll make sure of it myself.”

“Thank you,” I practically mouth the words.

“All right,” Wes says, looking sternly at Ransom. “You’re coming with me.” He turns my way. “You, too, Trixie.”

Before I can say anything, Elodie rushes into the room and right to my side.

“What did I miss?” she pants while craning her neck past me at the masses who happen to be rapt at attention.

“Wes is taking Ransom and me somewhere,” I say, nodding to the captain. “Where are we going?”

“To the honeymoon suite,” he says without hesitation, causing Elodie to coo and wiggle her shoulders suggestively as only Elodie can.

“The three of you? Perfectly kinky,” she purrs. “Can I watch?”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” I grunt.

I’m about to let Wes lead the way just as a spray of miniature stars illuminates to my right, and I turn to see Sassy gifting Reed a sultry kiss on the lips. And oddly enough, it looks as if he’s kissing her back.

Sassy kicks up a heel as the smooch seems to go on forever before she floats up toward the ceiling. She turns my way and blows me a kiss as well.

“Enjoy that hot hunk of a man, Trixie Troublefield Baxter,” she calls out with a wave. And just as I blow her a kiss right back, she up and disappears in a shower of pink and red stars.

I pull Ransom in close.

Enjoying this hot hunk of a man is exactly what I plan on doing next.