Chapter 23

Suddenly Single—What a Trip!

Dear Readers,

Today the Emerald Queen is docked in St. Lucia! I've never been here, so this is going to be an adventure from top to bottom. But if those views outside my cabin are indicative of how lovely this island is, then I'm sure to have a blissful day in paradise.

Although, paradise aside, have you ever shared a deep, dark secret with someone and not received the response you were hoping for? How did you handle that? Or, in other words, how should I?

Holding out hope for all good things (especially here in St. Lucia).

XOXO Trixie

St.Lucia is like stepping into a postcard that's come alive with tropical colors and the kind of lush, wild beauty that makes you hold your breath just so you can appreciate it properly.

The island looks as if it's waiting to wrap you in a warm embrace the moment you set foot on it, with the scent of fragrant exotic flowers in the air, the two giant mountains covered with greenery that seemingly erect themselves straight out of the water, and the endless blue of the Caribbean Sea sparkling under the sun.

Last night, Bess and Nettie told me they overheard Shep Murphy saying he was partaking in an excursion in the morning along with the rest of the pirate crew. It took very little work to wrangle the rest of the info from the staff at the excursion counter, and now the five of us—Wes and Ransom included—are booked to climb to the top of Gros Piton.

I'll admit, hiking isn't at the forefront of my list when it comes to exploring a tropical island known for its heat index and white sandy beaches, but such is life when you have a suspect to shake down.

Bess, Nettie, and I made sure to hit the Blue Water Café hard with a made-to-order omelet each—extra bacon and sausage for me. I also enjoyed a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice and three soft, fluffy blueberry pancakes. Can you say antioxidant-packed?

And I may have succumbed and enjoyed a Belgian waffle as well, extra crunchy, extra delicious with a malt backbeat. And, of course, I'm a sucker for freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Those ooey-gooey centers are everything. And just when I thought I was done, I noticed they just put out the chocolate-filled croissants, so I snapped up three for the trip and shoved them into my backpack.

With my hiking shoes on and a wide-brimmed hat big enough to shade all of Manhattan, I hightailed it on the bus along with the rest of the group. I sat next to Ransom, leaning on his shoulder all the way to our destination, mostly hoping, pretending to sleep while he pretended he thought I was sane.

Soon enough, we're dropped off at a parking lot at the base of Gros Piton, the taller of those majestic twin peaks. Each of them rises from the sea like a guardian of the island, cloaked in every shade of green you can imagine.

It seems as if a good handful of the Jolly Roger Pirate Crew has come along for the adventure. More importantly, Shep Murphy is here. He's looking like the handsome devil he is, dressed for pirate success in a red and white striped shirt, tattered jeans cut off at the knees, and a red bandana to complete his look as a high seas raider.

The rest of his cohorts in pirate arms are dressed to the nines as well. And surprisingly, most of the women have chosen to wear their tattered and torn dresses with the lace-up bustiers.

It wouldn't have been my first choice for a steep hike. But thankfully, everyone here looks as if they chose sensible footwear. And good thing—I did a little research and this hike isn't exactly for the faint of heart.

Our rowdy crowd quickly funnels into the trailhead and soon we're on our way. Up ahead I spot Elodie and Tinsley. Oddly enough, they're both ensconcing my suspect of the day.

Here's hoping Shep doesn't have any killer moves planned—at least not with my bestie.

Tinsley is on her own.

And not ironically I spot Hank hovering above the crowd, snakes and all, as he moves along with the mob as well. But he's too far ahead of me to make a stink about it.

It's not like he's to blame for my supernatural predicament, but he sure isn't helping with the matter either.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Bess grumbles, eyeing the steep path ahead of us with disdain. "There better be a spa at the top of this mountain."

"Nobody talked anyone into this," Nettie shoots back. "We signed up for catch a killer if you can duty, remember?"

"No, I don't," Bess says as we start in on the dusty trail. "But then again, my memory has been known to play tricks on me."

"Speaking of tricks," Nettie says. "How about we make a game out of it? Let's think of it as a treasure hunt. Except, instead of gold, we're hunting for a rugged, dirty sea dog. You know, a real outdoorsy type that also likes to cater to women and meet all of her sultry needs."

Bess grunts, "Does everything always come down to men for you?"

"Speaking of men," Nettie gives a quick glance around. "Has Ransom lightened up yet?"

Last night, I let both Bess and Nettie know that I told Ransom in detail about my little supernatural ability—yet again.

"He didn't say anything on the ride over." I sigh as I glance back and spot him talking to Wes. And by the looks on their faces, they're not exactly having a good time. "But I'm guessing he's talking about it now." And boy, does Wes look as if he's getting an earful.

"Don't worry," Bess says. "He'll come around. He just needs some time to absorb it." She raises a brow as she looks at Nettie. "And a treasure hunt? Just how do you propose we find this mythical creature that caters to a woman's sultry needs? I think we'd have better luck finding Big Foot."

"Is Big Foot here, too?" Nettie practically shouts it out and a small titter of laughter goes off through the crowd.

"On second thought"—Bess moans—"we'd better stick to pirates." She shrugs at me. "It's probably safer that way."

"Exactly," Nettie says with a grin. "Think about it. A hairy, scary-looking bad boy with an eye patch and a hook for a left arm. What's not to like?"

"Sounds enticing," Bess teases. "But does he have a sense of humor? That's the real treasure."

"I'll second that," I say with a laugh.

Although, right about now I'm going to find out if Ransom has a sense of humor. Or a tolerance for the supernatural.

"Every pirate worth his stripes has a sense of humor," Nettie assures us. "He's a guy who's not afraid to get a little dirty, who can navigate his way around an old rusty, dusty wooden ship—and who knows how to handle his compass. And that someone is about to make all of my dreams come true."

"Old rusty, dusty wooden ship?" Bess balks. "Speak for yourself."

Nettie chuffs. "Who do you think I'm speaking for? There's not a dirty sea dog on this ship that I'm willing to share with you."

"Lucky me," Bess mutters just as we arrive at our first viewpoint, a stunning vista of the lush green isle below along with an emerald coastline.

Both Bess and Nettie decide that's as far as they're willing to go and let us know they'll wait for us before they descend.

Honestly, it's not a bad way to spend the next few hours and I'd much rather join them than trek up to unholy heights.

The things I do for justice.

Hiking up the steep incline, we're treated to views so stunning, it feels as if the whole world stretches out beneath our feet. And the beaches—oh, the pristine beaches down below. Sand ranging from the purest white to the deepest gold is bordered by crystal clear waters that invite you to dive in and forget everything else. And believe me, I'd love nothing more than to do just that right about now.

I slow down a notch and see Wes and Ransom still going at it a few paces back.

"How can you just stand there and act as if everything is fine?" Ransom's voice is rife with frustration as he reams into Wes.

On second thought, maybe I should let them finish their conversation in private.

"It's not about whether we believe it or not," Wes counters. "It's about trusting Trixie. She's my friend. Besides, she's proved her abilities to me. I'm not the doubting Thomas here. You are."

"Great," Ransom growls. "Now I've got to worry about you, too."

And I take that as my cue to scoot back into the crowd before they really do catch up with me. I'm not so sure I have the stamina or the stomach to go another round in the supernatural ring with Ransom.

I'll have to find a way to convince him that what I said was true, and I know just the ghost to help me do so.

We didn't even get to the topic of Hank Silverman last night. But it's looking like I have no choice but to drag another dead body into this. After all, Hank and his dead peeps sort of dragged me into this.

And yet I'm the one who's dragged myself straight into hell.

I glance up ahead and my entire body tenses at the sight.

Speaking of hell…