Chapter 7

Suddenly Single—What a Trip!

Trip Tip: When dining at the buffet, remember—your eyes are bigger than your stomach. Don't let your plate become a culinary Mount Everest. Oh, what the heck. Climb that mountain. And maybe put an antacid or two in your pocket beforehand. Trotting around the buffet is my favorite kind of hike.

"Trixie, what's happened?"Elsie James howls as she crops up next to me. "Oh my goodness, is that Roger?" Her trembling hand rises to cover her mouth as we look upon the body of that poor man.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened. He just sort of—fell over."

"I heard there was a body," she whispers, shaking her head. "But oh, this can't be true." Her eyes close tight. "The captain was just speaking to Connie. I thought maybe poor Roger passed out cold. It wouldn't be the first time." She shrugs my way. "He did like to try out his liquor—and there were a lot of formulas we've gone over."

"I bet. Please accept my sincere condolences. I don't know what else to say."

"What can you say at a time like this?" She shakes her head as her eyes stay glued to the body. "I guess we're all mortal, aren't we?"

"The mortality rate is still at one hundred percent." I sigh. "But to hear him out there earlier, you'd think he had decades to go on this planet."

"True. But I guess he's with Hank now—riding that big pirate ship in the sky."

"Who's Hank?" I'm almost afraid to ask, but finding another corpse on the ship wouldn't surprise me all too much.

"Henry Silverman," she says. "We all called him Hank. He was a partner in Jolly Roger Spirits along with Roger. They were like brothers."

"Hank Silverman?" I say as a thought hits me as that unfriendly ghost comes to mind. "He didn't have a thing for garden snakes, did he?"

"Pardon?" The poor woman's forehead wrinkles with worry—most likely worried for my sanity.

And believe me, I'm worried about it, too.

"Never mind," I say. "My mind is scattered. I'm the one that found the body."

"Oh, you poor thing." Elsie grips me by the arms. "I'm so sorry. Can I get you a drink or something? Do you need to lie down?"

"No, actually, I'm just fine. Believe it or not, this wasn't my first rodeo," I say that last bit under my breath.

"Well, I'd better check on Connie and see how she's doing."

I'm about to encourage her to do just that when I spot a dark-haired gentleman pushing his way through the crowd until he gets as close to the body as Ransom's security force will allow.

Elsie and I watch as the man shakes his head down at poor Roger and seemingly holds back a laugh.

"Wow," I muse. "Who's that?"

"That, my friend, is trouble," Elsie practically spits out the words. "It's Shep Murphy. He and Roger were pretty close. Until they weren't."

Wait a minute… he looks familiar.

I suck in a quick breath. It's the dark-haired man who was breaking up the fight between Connie and Roger earlier this evening.

The sound of wailing penetrates from the open deck and Elsie glances back at it.

"Looks like Connie can use a shoulder to cry on. Excuse me." She sighs hard. "I'd better go break this to his girlfriend." She takes off.

"Wait," I call out after her. "Who is Mr. X?" I shout, but it's too late. Elsie is already cradling Connie in her arms.

Whoever it is, Roger mentioned him in his speech. I wouldn't have blinked twice if he hadn't referenced the fact that if the crowd played their cards right, Mr. X just might make all of their dreams come true—just like he did with Roger. And then he added those last few cryptic words: if he doesn't kill me first.

Roger is dead.

And it makes me wonder if Mr. X is guilty.

I pull my phone out and take a few discreet pictures of poor Roger lying on the floor.

I don't need a coroner's report to let me know that this was indeed a homicide; I've got a ghost in my cabin that already confirmed things for me. And if Quinn and Ransom are wasting no time in starting their investigation, then I'm not wasting any time either.

Yo-ho, yo-ho, a sleuth's life for me.

I'm about to dive head-first into the murky waters of a mystery.