Chapter 15

Suddenly Single—What a Trip!

Oh, Trixie! It's me, Shelby. After our awkward encounter on the lido deck, where I accused Ned of potentially having a gambling problem and wanting to borrow money, he stomped right off! In the moment I felt more than justified, but now I'm feeling a wave of guilt. I think I want to apologize to him—not just for the horrible accusation, but for assuming the worst in him. Despite everything that's happened, I find myself actually caring about his well-being. The thought of him struggling alone really bothers me. I think I want to support him, maybe even be there for him if he decides to seek help. Surprisingly, I'm actually feeling things for him again. What do I do? In the meantime, I think I'll indulge in a little more retail therapy—especially now that I can afford it.

Stumped,

Shelby

Dear Stumped,

Wow, it's very clear your concerns are genuine. If you're feeling the urge to support Ned, and maybe even reconcile, I think it's worth exploring. But first, clearing your head with a little walk through the shops never hurt anyone!

XOXO Trixie

I springto my feet with Roger's missing phone still clutched to my hand and gasp when I see a familiar pair of bright blue eyes staring down at me.

"Ransom, you scared the socks right off of me—or you would have if I were wearing them. Look what I found. A real buried treasure." I wave the phone his way before wrapping my arms around him and landing a kiss on his lips.

"Looks like I found two treasures. You and the phone." He gently takes it from me and examines it. "How is it that you beat me to the punch each and every time? I was just on my way here to pick this place clean in hopes of finding it."

"Finders keepers," I say as I take it back and tap into it.

The screen lights up.

"I know it's an invasion of privacy," I say, almost breathless. "But, Ransom, this could be the key to solving his murder."

"Agree," he says. "And to be clear, you can't invade the privacy of a dead man—especially when the coroner suspects foul play."

I suck in a quick breath. "I knew it!"

"And I'm learning to trust your gut." He ticks his head to the side. "Now let's see what we've got."

"I'm going straight for the messages," I say, doing just that.

First, I tap into the messages between Connie and Roger. They're mostly mundane, a mix of everyday banter and plans for dinner. But one message from Connie stands out.

"We need to talk about your side hustle with Elsie," I read as I glance up at Ransom with amusement. "It's getting out of hand." I shake my head at the screen. "Side projects?" I look back up at Ransom.

"Don't go chasing zebras just yet," he says. "These hoofbeats are probably your average horse. She was his event planner, and from what I've gleaned so far she had a way of blowing through the budget."

"So did Connie, apparently," I say as we get back to snooping.

Next, we scroll through the exchanges between Elsie and Roger. It's clear from their messages that Elsie was clearly dedicated to making their events memorable and exciting. I can see how most, if not all, of her suggestions could cost hundreds or maybe thousands to pull off.

Next, we head to Shep and Roger's messages.

"Shep is the social media guy," Ransom says. "But I'm guessing you already knew that."

I bite down on a smile. "That I did, but I like it when you catch up to me."

"Hey." He gives my ribs a tweak and I buck with a laugh before we get back to business.

The text exchanges between Shep and Roger are mostly dry and boring, discussing shipments and schedules for Jolly Roger Spirits in conjunction with scheduling social media posts and press releases. However, one message from Shep hints at unease.

"Are you sure we can trust her?" I read out loud and Ransom and I exchange a glance. "There's talk she's not playing straight with you," I continue. "Wow." I shake my head. "Who is the elusive she in question?"

"It might be Connie," he says. "There was some major discord between them. Roger wasn't faithful, and word on the mean streets of this ship is that Connie was out for revenge."

"As any scorned woman would be."

We scroll through the rest of the messages. There aren't any signs of Mr. X, but there is something that makes my blood run cold from someone called Bully.

"You promised me results, Maxwell," I read as a chill runs down my spine because the tone is unmistakably threatening. "Don't make me regret our arrangement."

Ransom leans in and reads the next line from Bully, "The new batch is ready. This will change everything for Jolly Roger Spirits. Just make sure you keep your end of the deal." He shakes his head. "This might be our Mr. X."

"I agree. But it's so odd that there are no responses from Roger. And that's actually the totality of messages between them."

"They were sent two weeks ago," Ransom points out.

"With each message, the plot thickens," I say. "It's clear that Roger was tangled up in something dangerous—and that something ultimately led to his demise."

Ransom takes the phone from me once again. "And now, with his phone in my hands, I'm one step closer to unraveling the mystery of his murder."

"We," I say almost defiantly, but I tag it with a smile. "We are one step closer to unraveling the mystery."

Ransom's baby blues hook to mine and his lips curve slightly in the right direction.

"All right, Trixie. We are closer to unraveling the mystery," Ransom says, sinking the phone into his pocket. We'll deal with the phone later. Right now, if you want to help with the case, we've got a date and we can't be late."

"You know I'm ready and willing to jump in any rabbit hole with you," I tease.

"No rabbit hole." He winks. "More like bingo hole."

"Bingo?"

"Bingo."