Page 37 of Transatlantic Terror Cruise

I gasp twice as hard as whispers break out amongst the rest of the audience.

My stomach drops. How could he possibly know about that? I glance over at Nettie again, but she looks more regaled by the handsome silver fox than she does guilty of whispering something into his ear at some point in the past year.

“You’re haunted by questions,” he continues. “About secrets kept in plain sight. But be careful what you ask—some answers come with a price.”

Bess nudges me as if making sure to drive home his point.

But before I can process any of it, he swings toward Becky Lee, who seems to be trying to achieve molecular fusion with her cardigan with the way her fingers are twisting the cuffs of her sleeves.

“And you, my love,” he purrs her way as if he were trying to seduce her. “Such interesting patterns in your mind. Loops and lines, like yarn seeking a shape. You create to escape, don’t you? Each stitch is a step away from what truly binds you.”

Becky Lee’s entire body freeze solid and I can’t help but wonder if he hit a nerve.

“You’re so very tired,” Alfonso continues and his voice is gentler now. “So tired of pretending. Of smiling when you want to scream. Of listening to endless discussions about things that don’t matter while the things that do slip away.”

“No.” She shakes her head in protest. “I don’t know what you’re?—”

“The purple suits you,” he adds, nodding at her cardigan. “Your best work yet. However, the new stitch pattern for the cables gave you trouble. There is always trouble when you’re thinking about change.”

Her face goes white and she opens her mouth as if to protest, but Alfonso has already turned to someone else—Nettie.

And here we go.

Bess groans as she leans my way. “This man doesn’t know who he’s about to mess with,” she whispers.

I nod her way. “I have a feeling he’s about to learn fast,” I whisper right back.

“Ah, the skeptics in the front row.” He chuckles while looking at both Bess and me before fixing the most mysterious gaze he can muster right on Nettie. “You’ve been having doubts about my abilities as well. Is that not true?”

I’m pretty sure everyone in this room doubts his abilities. Although the people he’s already pegged with his musings might think differently. Me included.

“That’s right.” Nettie straightens in her seat. “If you were really able to read minds, you’d know exactly what I’m thinking right now.” She ticks her head to the side while keeping her eyes plastered to his face and I can tell she’s thinking up a storm. Never a good thing.

Alfonso belts out a dark laugh. “Oh honey, I can’t share those thoughts out loud. This is a family show.”

The crowd bursts with a laugh as Bess leans my way. “He really can read minds!”

I make a face at him.

Okay, so he got another one right. But in the defense of my cynicism, Nettie is more or less an open book—an open book with a one-track mind. Clearly, he’s met her before. I’m guessing many times in a dark corner.

“My dear lovely, yet skeptical, woman.” Alfonso nods toward Nettie. “Perhaps you’d care to join me on stage and show everyone how simple this all is?”

Bess groans once again. “Anything but that.”

I take it back. Clearly, this man has never met Nettie before or this whole hop-up-next-to-me thing would never be happening. Not if he values his limbs, and perhaps his life. I’ve seen Nettie’s good intentions go sideways on more than one occasion.

“You bet your shiny red velvet patoot, I will!” Nettie shoots back as she hops out of her seat.

Bess and I exchange a look of horror.

“I hope we’re in for a good time,” I say.

Bess shakes her head. “More like a felony.”

The ship seems to be rife with felons these days, and one of them just so happens to be a killer.

But for now, it’s Nettie who is about to slay this party.

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