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

Farewell, my faithful pleasure seekers! As our cruise approaches England (and our newlyweds have finally retreated to their honeymoon suite once again to indulge in their extended security briefing), I think your temporary love guru here will sign off for the duration of the trip.

I’m happy to report that Trixie and Ransom have thoroughly investigated every possible romantic venue this ship has to offer. From the private hot tub to the midnight buffet, from the secluded deck chairs to that suspiciously stable balance beam in the fitness center, they’ve left no stone unturned in their quest for evidence .

Speaking of evidence, the cleaning staff would like to thank them for finally leaving their suite long enough for a proper tidying. Though the mysterious handprints on the balcony glass may need extra attention. And someone should probably explain to the room service staff that those weren’t actual crime scene outlines on the sheets.

But before I go, one final piece of advice for all you lovers at sea—life is short, love is long, and cruise ship beds are surprisingly durable. Make the most of every moment, every sunset, and especially every “do not disturb” sign.

As for me, I hear there’s yet another rather handsome ghost hunter who might need some paranormal activity investigated. A girl can’t let Trixie have all the fun, can she?

Sailing seductively into the sunset,

XOXO Elodie

P.S. Trixie, my love, the blog is all yours again. And I must say, you’ve given new meaning to the term “all hands on deck.” Bravo, my seductive star student. Bravo. Who knew solving crimes could be so steamy?

Me. That’s who.

Trixie

Bess, Nettie, Wes, Elodie, Ransom, and I barely make it three steps out of the formal dining room when Tinsley materializes in front of us as if she’s been summoned by the sound of handcuffs clicking.

“What happened?” she demands, eyeing the chocolate-covered chaos behind us. “Why is Becky Lee being escorted away in handcuffs?”

“My wife’s investigation has led to yet another arrest,” Ransom doesn’t hesitate to spill the news—and in the sweetest way.

I will never stop swooning over this man.

“Becky Lee is our killer,” I say to Tinsley without missing a beat. “She just confessed.”

“ What? ” Tinsley squawks. “I step away for ten minutes to deal with some ridiculous anonymous complaint about improper sprinkle distribution at the donut station, and you solve the entire murder?”

“Don’t feel too bad,” Bess chides. “Some people think donuts are pretty important business, too.” She nods at Nettie. “Case in point, your anonymous complainer.”

Tinsley’s hands ball up in fists as she gives a frustrated shriek in Nettie’s direction.

“You missed a great chase scene,” Nettie is quick to inform her as if that makes anything better. “And a chocolate fountain casualty. But don’t worry, I managed to save three donuts.” She pats her stomach as evidence of their safekeeping.

“It was an even dozen and you know it,” Bess says, linking arms with her bestie, and we all share a quick laugh as Wes leads us down the hall with both Ransom and Elodie striding by my side.

“Where are you all going?” Tinsley asks, falling into step with our growing parade.

“To the honeymoon suite,” Wes announces. “Where I plan to lock these two up until we dock. Maybe that way we can finish this cruise without any more homicides.”

“Very funny,” I say without a modicum of humor. Even though he’s probably not wrong.

“Ah yes, the honeymoon suite.” Elodie sighs as she pulls me along. “I have some suggestions for in-room activities. I just posted a new blog about creative uses for room service ice?—”

“No one asked you,” Tinsley cuts in rather terse.

“Story of my life, honey,” Elodie shoots back with a laugh caught in her throat. “And it hasn’t stopped me yet.”

“I’m stopping you, all right,” Tinsley mutters with that sourpuss expression of hers firmly intact.

I bet she’s cranky. Most likely because she’s not the one about to be locked in the honeymoon suite with Ransom. Any room would do really.

And honestly? I’d be cranky, too, if I were her.

We parade through the ship like some kind of victory march—if victory marches involved chocolate-covered evidence, contraband donuts, and Elodie’s increasingly specific and very delicious suggestions for honeymoon activities.

“I still can’t believe it was Becky Lee.” Bess shakes her head. “Although I suppose the nursing school thing should have been a clue. Nobody helps their sister study that enthusiastically.”

“Speaking of studying…” Elodie purrs my way. “I have some extracurricular activities the two of you should consider implementing as?—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Tinsley warns.

“What?” Elodie balks with a laugh. “I was just going to suggest some light reading. My latest article about proper use of the balcony furniture?—”

“Is a hazard,” Wes cuts her off this time. “Is it too late for a retraction?”

Tinsley nods. “Wes, you should have her handcuffed for spewing a criminal amount of innuendo.”

“Promises, promises.” Elodie winks over at Wes and we share another laugh.

We reach the honeymoon suite in a mob as Wes opens the door.

“In you go, lovebirds. Try to actually enjoy your honeymoon this time. And if either of you leaves this room before we dock, I’m firing you.”

He’s about to shove us in when Nettie waves a hand.

“Wait,” she calls out, pulling a donut out of her sleeve. “Here’s one for the road, kids.”

“And here’s some light reading.” Elodie plucks something from her purse that looks suspiciously like a manual before thrusting it into my hands. “You can thank me later.”

“And the next murder is mine,” Tinsley announces as if she’s calling dibs on dessert. “So, you two can focus on whatever it is you’re focusing on.” She frowns my way because she knows full well what Ransom will be focusing on—and it won’t be her.

“There better not be another murder,” Wes growls.

“Although if there is”—Bess points my way—“try to make it happen near the buffet again. I’ve never seen Nettie move so fast.”

“You try watching perfectly good donuts roll to their doom,” Nettie defends her love of all things deep-fried. “It was like Sophie’s Choice but with baked goods.”

“All right. Enough talk about donuts,” Wes says. “Inside, you two,” he orders, giving us a gentle push. “And don’t come out until England. That’s the captain’s order.”

Elodie, Bess, and Nettie all shout goodbye and give a wild wave as the door closes behind us with a definitive click, and I hear the lock engage.

Through the door, we can hear our friends begin to drift away, with Elodie’s voice saying something about the proper use of the room service cart.

“I have an inkling of where she might have been going with that,” I say as I wrap my arms around my debonair, hotter-than-a-wildfire husband.

“Oh, do you?” He tightens his grasp around my waist and moves us to a rhythm all our own. “And where was that?”

“I’m better at showing than telling,” I say, nodding to the cart to our right, already loaded with a bucket of champagne on ice and a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries.

“I’ll hold you to it,” he says, kissing a line up my neck. “Alone at last,” he whispers the words hot, right into my ear. “No ghosts, no killers, no well-meaning, donut-wielding friends.”

“Speaking of donuts.” I hold up the pink sticky treat covered with sprinkles—a rather decent amount if I do say so myself.

Ransom growls as he takes a gentle bite out of my neck. “Are you planning on sharing?”

“Yes, but I’d hate to leave a trail of crumbs in this luxury suite.” I give a little wink. “This is the part where the rolling cart comes in.”

He ticks his head to the side and looks vexingly handsome in the process. “Nice segue.”

“This night just gets nicer,” I say, leading him by the tie as I walk backward to the cart in question. “But first it’s going to get very, very naughty.”

“Well, well, Mrs. Baxter, this might be your most arresting performance yet.”

“No promises.” I grin up at him. “But I think we can find plenty of ways to pass the time until England.”

His kiss tells me he agrees completely. After all, some mysteries are better left unsolved, but this one—this thing between us—is worth investigating thoroughly. Very thoroughly indeed.

And we do just that.