Page 41 of Transatlantic Terror Cruise

Bess’ eyes round out as she looks at Becky Lee. Bess is used to food disappearing in her presence due to a hungry disembodied spirit or two, but it’s more or less a shock to the system for others to witness.

“It’s probably just the wind.” Bess forces a laugh. “We have food up and fly away all the time on this ship.”

Nettie shrugs. “Or it could be a ghost with a hankering for chocolate.”

We all share a laugh at that one with Sassy’s being the loudest—even if I am the only one who can fully appreciate it.

“I don’t believe in ghosts.” Becky Lee wrinkles her nose as she indulges in a bite.

Sassy scoffs at the woman. “Now that’s just rude.”

Rude or not, Becky Lee Darling will have a rather rude awakening one day when she becomes a ghost herself.

“Becky Lee”—I take a deep breath because I might as well dive in—“I wanted to say how sorry I am about your friend.”

And I plan on saying a whole lot more about Brad Whipple, too.

CHAPTER21

“Pardon? Did you say you were sorry about my friend?” Becky Lee Darling asks, wide-eyed, as we sit outside of the poshest frozen dairy distributary here on the ship along with Bess and Nettie—and one Sassy specter.

“Oh.” Becky Lee shakes her head as if something had just occurred to her. “You’re talking about Brad Whipple.” She licks a stray sprinkle from her lip as her expression shifts from jovial to somber. “He was really my husband’s friend. I hardly knew him personally.” She pauses, then brightens. “But I did get to help with the podcast merchandise. Patrick, that’s my husband, he got me this amazing sublimation machine for Christmas a few years back, and well...” She pulls out her phone and quickly shares an entire slew of pictures with us of her hovering over what looks like a fancy printer. “I sort of became the unofficial merch queen for theWhispers of the Wickedpodcast,” she says with a touch of obvious pride.

I lean in to get a better look, genuinely curious as to how this works. The photos show an impressive array of true crime-themed items that would make any podcast fan’s heart skip a beat, or stop altogether. There are endless colorful mugs with cute little sayings on them likeMy Favorite Murder Weapon is KindnessandCoffee: Because You Can’t Solve Crimes Without Caffeine.

An endless array of tote bags are emblazoned with fun sayings likeEvidence Collection KitandCrime Scene Queen.

There are even pens with sayings printed on the side likeTaking Notes on Your Alibiand T-shirts that readTrue Crime and ChillandAmateur Sleuth: Professional Snoop.

“Wow,” Bess muses as she leans back into her seat. “The quality is professional-grade.”

“Thank you.” Becky Lee sniffs. “Brad and Elvie seemed pleased with everything.” Her eyes moisten with tears and her hand begins to shake slightly as she holds the phone out for us to see. There’s something about the way she lingers on certain photos, like they hold more meaning than just merchandise memories.

“These are all so very clever,” I say, and mean it. “The designs have that perfect blend of macabre humor. I bet they sell like hotcakes at conventions.”

“Oh, they do,” Sassy is quick to interject. “Or at least they did while I was still around. I was Elvie’s assistant with her beauty brand, but heaven knows I amassed plenty of Becky Lee’smurder merch. That’s what Elvie and I used to call it.”

Sassy knew Becky Lee, too? Sassy may not be on my suspect list, but that’s not going to stop me from grilling her as if she was holding the top stop.

“Thank you for all the kind words.” Becky Lee laughs as she says it. “The Evidence Collection Kit was Brad’s idea,” she says as her laugh dies down to nothing. “He was such a brilliant man. And that’s exactly why he was so good at coming up with catchy phrases. He had a real knack for knowing what fans would love, mostly because he was the number one fan of anything that had to do with murder.”

“Sort of like our Trixie,” Nettie is quick to add and I shoot her a look.

“I’m not so much a fan of murder as I am of solving them,” I say. “But I guess so is everyone who joined you for this trip,” I say to Becky Lee. “How are you enjoying the cruise?” I wince as I say it. “When you’re not dealing with, you know, an actual murder.”

Becky Lee sighs as she casts a glance at the sea. “It’s been restful—well, when it hasn’t been stressful. I didn’t realize homicide could bring so much chaos.” We share a mournful laugh at that one. “But it’s nice to be able to do nothing but sit around and eat. Back home I work from sun up until—well, sun up.”

“Oh?” I lean in a notch. “I guess your merchandise keeps you busy.”

“No, it really doesn’t. I was only doing that a few times a month for them. I’m actually a housewife, but the chores never end. My husband Patrick has three kids from a previous marriage that live with us part-time. All teenagers.” She rolls her eyes and the fatigue behind the gesture looks as genuine as it gets. “Let’s just say they’ve made a game of hiding glasses and mugs in interesting places. I found one in the bathroom cabinet last week, wrapped in a towel as if they were hiding evidence of a crime. And don’t get me started on the silverware that keeps vanishing. We’re on our fourth set.”

Bess, Nettie, and I all share a warm laugh.

“I remember those days all too well,” I tell her. “Let’s just say my own children had their creative interpretation of organization. The time I found a fork collection growing behind the couch still haunts me.”

Nettie grunts. “I made my kids eat with their bare hands.”

“We don’t doubt it,” Bess chuffs before turning to Becky Lee. “Don’t worry. Your brood will be off to college soon enough. And then the grandkids will start pouring in. Life just gets better in that respect.”

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