Chapter 11

Suddenly Single—What a Trip!

Hello, Trixie, it's me, Shelby. I've got an update that's thrown me for a loop. Let's just say, I've secretly been observing Ned, and I've noticed him dropping wads of cash at the casino. It's got me worried he might have developed a gambling problem! Considering our past fights regarding money, I'm starting to wonder if I've escaped a fire. And here's the kicker—he's reached out through my friends, suggesting we should have a conversation. Part of me is concerned he might be looking to borrow money to fuel his newfound addiction. I have no idea what to do. Should I meet with him, or should I keep my distance?

Clutching her wallet,

Shelby

Dear Clutching,

Oh my goodness! If I were you, I'd proceed with caution. Agreeing to a conversation could provide some insight, but set clear boundaries for yourself. It's important to protect your peace and maybe even your bank account, too. Although, perhaps Ned's time in the casino was purely a way to have a little fun on his trip. (Also, someone he sought for advice may have suggested it.)

XOXO Trixie

"I've thoughtabout this all night, and you need to tell him that you're being literal," Bess says as she, Nettie, and I finish up our bagels with lox and cream cheese, along with a couple of glazed raspberry-filled powdered donuts and lattes topped with whipped cream. This is what we consider first breakfast—a quick dash through the Blue Water Café. It's sort of our way of killing time before we head down to the formal dining room for second breakfast.

I just finished telling them exactly what went down last night between Ransom and me in which I told him I see ghosts and he thought I was injecting some humor into the conversation.

I'm still trying to process it myself.

The three of us are currently seated on the sun-drenched promenade deck, sipping our coffee while enjoying the majestic views that the landscape has to offer—and hoping to do a little suspect stalking in the process.

It's early morning and the ship has docked at the glorious island of Barbados where blue skies and turquoise waters greet us. An alcove of greenery lies ahead with houses and businesses nestled in it and white sandy beaches expand to our left like a pair of open arms. The humidity is thick, the sun is hot, and the air is perfumed with a hint of exotic flowers.

"You need to tell that man you're able to see the tall, dark, and deceased among us—and tell him you mean it." Nettie nods. "Maybe once he hears he's got a little competition, it might actually light a fire under his britches."

Bess waves her off. "Ransom doesn't need any more flames fanned his way when it comes to Trixie. All he needs is the truth. And he'll be able to handle it just like we did—and the captain. Trust me, Trixie, you have nothing to lose and everything to gain. I'm sure he'll take it in stride." She takes a quick sip of her coffee. "I hope."

"I hope so, too," I mumble just as a shadow darkens the table and we look up to see a smiling Elsie James with her blonde locks pulled back into a ponytail and a pink sundress on that looks as light and airy as the Caribbean breeze.

"Oh, hey, Trixie." She pauses midflight with a cup of coffee in her hands. "Isn't this gorgeous?" She motions toward the island and the three of us quickly agree.

"It's like living in a postcard," I tell her. "Elsie, these are my friends, Bess and Nettie. They live on the ship with me."

"You don't say?" Elsie shakes each of their hands. "My, aren't you the luckiest ladies alive. What I wouldn't do to have a lifestyle like this. But some of us still have to put in a nine to five." She sighs. "I didn't grow up with much. And I didn't go to college either. Instead, I waited tables and did a little bartending before I started working for an event planner. Then after that ended, Roger hired me—and lucky for me, since he's the only gig in town. The rest, as they say, is history. And here I am, on the same boat as you wonderful women." She honks out a laugh.

"You must be pretty good at what you do," I say. "There are hundreds of people in your crew."

She nods. "As fun as LARPing is, this is all a bit of a marketing ploy on Roger's part. It was actually my idea to have a party dressed as pirates. You know, to get into the subconscious of our customers. And well, a party that never ended was born."

We all share a laugh at that one.

"So what's on the agenda for you and the crew today?" I ask, hoping to glean where Connie Parker might be headed so I can ask her a few questions about the deceased.

"Well"—she cringes before glancing over her shoulder—"Roger had hoped to do some snorkeling once we arrived here in Barbados. I guess they have some shipwrecks that you can snorkel out to, and I hear it's a lot of fun. Some of the others are still doing the excursion—in memory of Roger, of course—but I just couldn't do it." She holds her stomach as she says the words as if the thought made her sick. Grief can do that.

"Do you know if Connie will be going?" I brazenly ask. "I mean, I haven't been able to catch up with her yet to offer my condolences."

"Connie?" Elsie glances back once again and, sure enough, the redhead in question is chatting away with a small group not too far from us. She's donned a sun dress with daisies printed all over it and she's sporting a pair of sneakers with it. It's an adorable look, but judging by those oversized sunglasses, I'm betting she's hiding some dark circles. "She's going for sure," she continues. "We had a little group meeting with the rest of the crew and she was kind enough to encourage everyone to please enjoy the rest of their cruise. She said since we were already together, we may as well honor his memory and have a good time. In fact, she encouraged everyone to come along on the snorkeling tour today."

"What a coincidence," I say. "We were just about to do the same."

"Snorkeling." Bess sighs at the thought.

It's not her favorite pastime, but she's never turned down an opportunity to do it either.

Nettie nods. "I hope they've got some hot-to-trot pirates looking to have a good time with a pair of fins, a breathing apparatus—and me."

"I'm sure they do," Bess says. "But we're not headed to the local nursing home this afternoon."

"Very funny," Nettie says before looking at Elsie. "I bet you've got yourself a hot-to-trot pirate. Which hottie is he?"

"Don't tell her," Bess says. "She's not above looting another pirate's treasure."

Elsie belts out a belly laugh. "You ladies are a hoot. But there's no pirate on this ship for me. I'm flying solo. I just had a bad boy break my heart. I'm through with men for a while. You can have 'em all, Nettie."

"Thanks, Toots," Nettie says without missing a beat. "I think I'll toss on a flirty dress and some sneakers like our redheaded friend over there." She hitches her head in Connie's direction. "That cute little getup should allow me to scoop up as many men as I can carry."

"Good luck with that," Elsie snorts. "Those dirty-looking sneakers she's wearing? They're a pair of Quirky Kicks, one of the priciest sneakers on the market today. Those shoes cost a small fortune, starting out at a cool grand."

"What?" the three of us shout in unison.

"I don't think I've paid a cool grand for all the sneakers I've ever owned in my life—combined," Bess adds.

"Well, she didn't have any problem doling out the big bucks." Elsie shrugs.

"Judging by the wear and tear, it looks as if she's enjoying them," I say. "I don't think I could enjoy a pair of shoes that set me back a grand. In fact, I'd have them enshrined in a glass case."

"Oh, this is probably their debut," Elsie says. "Connie isn't one to wear something twice. She's sort of the resident fashionista. And the fact they look as if she ran through a Texas mud field with them is a part of their allure. They come shipped that way."

The three of us gasp at the thought.

"What is this world coming to?" Bess gags out the words.

"Dirty shoes and killers," Nettie says, and Elsie snorts out a laugh.

"Well, she sure was fit to kill the first night on the ship." Elsie points out with a wink. "I'm sorry, that was distasteful under the circumstances." She wrinkles her nose. "I hope you ladies have a good time exploring the shipwrecks."

She takes off and yet my eyes stay trained on Connie Parker.

Dirty sneakers and a killer. She fits the bill for the first, but is she a candidate for the second?

That's what I'm about to find out.

With the Caribbean sun warming my back and Bess and Nettie by my side, we're ready to step into Barbados, ready for whatever dirty secrets—and dirty shoes—await us.