Chapter 6

Suddenly Single—What a Trip!

Hi, Trixie! It's me again, Shelby. In my last message, I left out a pretty big detail that might change things. Ned and I fought about money nonstop throughout our marriage. It was a constant battle, and ironically, since we've divorced, my boss gave me a significant promotion that came with a big bump in pay. And now, finding myself on the same cruise as Ned, I'm torn between wanting to keep my distance and running over and telling him about my good news. How should I navigate this situation, especially with our financial mess of a history?

From rags to riches,

Shelby

Dear Riches,

First off, congratulations on the promotion! You may want to keep your financial windfall private for now, focusing on enjoying your cruise. This unexpected independence is your path to new beginnings. If you and Ned interact, I would try to maintain some civility without delving into financial matters. After all, that's what tore you apart. And if you're feeling the need to work through your new feelings, the ship's boutiques are a perfect place to indulge in a little retail therapy! Maybe buy yourself a shiny new bauble or two.

Happy shopping,

XOXO Trixie

"He's dead?"I stumble backward as Ransom quickly puts in a few calls and in seconds the alcove we're in is flooded with security.

I can't seem to catch my breath as I stare down at poor Roger Maxwell clad in his pirate regalia, his eye patch still firmly in place. His face is frozen in a horrible grimace as his left eye stares vacantly at the ceiling. His skin is pale and gray and his lips are a vibrant shade of blue.

A tall redhead in a navy pantsuit steps my way with her eyes narrowing in on me. And I happen to know this redhead all too well. It's Quinn Riddle, Ransom's partner in vessel security. She's not my biggest fan.

"You again?" she snips as her orange lips practically siren out in this dim light. She looks more like an animation right now than anything reality-based. Quinn has a classic beauty about her, if that classic beauty had a propensity for sucking on a lemon and walking around as if someone surgically implanted a metal rod in her back. "I knew it." She takes another step my way and all but pokes her finger in my chest. "As soon as the report came over the radio, I knew you'd be at the helm of this homicide."

"Whoa." Ramson jumps between us. "First, we don't know that this is a homicide. And second, Trixie had nothing to do with this." He winces slightly my way. "Other than being at the scene when the body landed on us." He ticks his head slightly. "My guess is he was leaning against that wall when gravity took over. And then he came crashing down between us." He rubs my back a moment. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I'm quick to tell him before turning to Quinn. "And even though I didn't have anything to do with this, I can help with?—"

Quinn holds up a hand. "We don't need your help."

"But you just said it was a homicide." I practically gag on the words. "I've actually helped quite a lot in the past. In fact?—"

"In fact"—she holds her hand up once again—"you meddled in our investigations. You are a civilian. We are the professionals. Don't you dare go sniffing around and mucking up the waters for Ransom and me."

"But I've caught a handful of killers," I protest. "I think my record speaks for itself."

A tight smile comes and goes on her face. "I think your record speaks to the fact you're a nosy ninny who doesn't realize she's putting her own life, not to mention the lives of others, on the line when you take it upon yourself to go hunting for a killer."

I gasp at her words.

"And don't you deny it." She wags a finger in Ransom's direction. "If you allow her to continue on in this manner, it will be her homicide we'll be investigating next. It's only a matter of time." She shakes her head before stalking off to manage the scene.

"She's right," Ransom growls with his gaze set in her direction, and he doesn't look pleased.

"But I've spent some time with the deceased," I offer. "He just gave this big speech—and I saw his wife or girlfriend all but beat him up out on the promenade deck. Not to mention the fact?—"

"Not to mention the fact this is my case."

"And how exactly does Quinn know this is a homicide?" I ask.

"Because you were involved," she shouts from a few feet away where she's photographing the scene like mad. Seeing that there's no forensics team on board, all the heavy lifting is left to Quinn and Ransom—and well, me.

Ransom nods. "What she said."

"Ransom." My whisper sounds more like a hiss without meaning to. Although he's not wrong and neither is she. I'm sort of the common denominator lately when it comes to these things.

And let's face it. That ghost I saw earlier? That pretty much cinched the deal that a homicide was on the horizon. I don't see just any dearly departed entity. The only ghosts I've seen so far have been sent back from the great beyond to help me hunt down a killer.

Ransom pulls me in for a quick embrace and sighs hard before kissing my cheek.

"Head back out. Try to get your mind off things. We'll catch up later." He pulls away and offers a short-lived smile. "You can even tell me that big secret you've been hinting at. Think about anything else but this. If this is a homicide, I'll take care of it."

Wes pops up in his captain's uniform looking alarmingly official, and suddenly I feel as if I've been caught red-handed doing something wrong—like landing another passenger toes up in the morgue.

"Trixie"—Wes latches onto my hand and gives it a squeeze—"are you okay? Quinn says she thinks it's a homicide. Have you seen a—" He stops cold and frowns at Ransom before reverting back to me. "Have you told him yet?"

Ransom growls at Wes for even going there. And in all the chaos, I can't for the life of me remember if Ransom knows that Wes knows. It's all so convoluted at this point I should probably just walk around with a neon sign on my chest that reads, I see dead people. Although, Quinn might want to amend it so that it reads, I cause homicides.

"Wait a minute." Ransom inches back as he stares Wes down. And judging by the look on Ransom's face, he's up for committing a homicide himself. Let's just say Wes and Ransom have a long sordid history. "There's a body on the ground and you're worried about whether or not she's divulged her secret to me yet?" His eyes dart my way, but he doesn't move a muscle. "No, she hasn't. But if you haven't noticed, we've got more pressing issues at hand." He dots a kiss to my cheek. "Steer clear of any shady characters and text me once you get back to your cabin. I want to know that you're safe for the night."

He takes off and Wes whisks me to the side. "He doesn't know, huh?"

"Not for a lack of trying," I say just as Bess and Nettie come upon the scene and an entire gaggle of passengers try to crowd the area in an effort to garner a better look. "I told Ransom my secret."

Bess and Nettie gasp in unison.

"What did he say?" Wes asks low and serious as if maybe he expects the worst. And honestly, he probably should.

"He didn't say anything." I close my eyes a moment as the scene replays in my mind. "Poor Roger flopped right onto us right after I said the words, I see the dead. Once Ransom checked his pulse, he looked right at me and told me that I called it."

A hard groan comes from the three of them.

"Don't you worry." Nettie shakes a crooked finger in the air. "If Ransom ends up getting spooked once he does get the picture, we'll just tell him you were talking about your social life before you met him. Talk about your ghost towns."

"You're not kidding." I sigh. "And poor Roger." I cringe as I look at the man lying there with his left eye still fixed on the ceiling.

"Roger?" Bess' fingers fly to her lips. "You mean the guy that just gave the big speech?"

"That's him." Wes shakes his head. "Poor man was pretty excited about this trip. He told me so himself just a few hours ago. He said his liquor empire has taken off like gangbusters and this was his celebration cruise. Of course, he brought along over four hundred of his closest friends to join the party."

Nettie sighs hard. "Well, now that Roger has walked the plank, we'll have to break it to his crew. They'll need to find a replacement for him asap."

"What on earth for?" Bess squawks. And if she didn't ask the question, I would have.

"Everyone knows you can't have a pirate crew without a leader." Nettie cranes her neck toward the exit. "Now if you'll excuse me, it's time to step up to the buccaneer bridge and take the wheel. Someone get me an eye patch," she shouts as she dashes out the door.

"And someone get me a straitjacket," Bess cries out as she bolts right after her.

Wes pulls me in for a quick embrace. "I'm here for you if you need me," he whispers in my ear before taking off.

I cut a glance toward the body just in time to spot Ransom scowling this way.

I give a little wave and he nods.

It's safe to say he's not so thrilled to see Wes embracing me, especially not after Wes all but pointed out that he knows my secret.

Poor Ransom must feel as if he's the only one in the dark.

"Trixie?" someone calls from behind and my heart seizes at the sight.