Page 51 of Transatlantic Terror Cruise

I gasp and clamp my mouth shut in the event I laugh, or ask for a few lessons myself. My schedule is far too booked for that to happen, but maybe during the next cruise when things slow down a bit.

“I donotneed coaching,” Tinsley snaps with a robust verbosity and me think the lady doth protest too much.

“Mmm.” Elodie ticks her head to the side. “Your dating history begs to differ,” she purrs as thick and sugary as sweet tea. “When was the last time you had a romance that didn’t involve a security incident report?”

Tinsley sniffs. “A drunk hitting on me does not quantify a romance. And by the way, some of us take our jobs seriously.”

“And some of us take our pleasure seriously.” Elodie gives a cheeky wink. “I could help you with that. Lesson one—that pantsuit you’re wearing would look much better on someone’s floor—preferably a hot man with a body of steel. But a medium man with a dad bod wouldn’t be the worst place for you to begin your journey of self-discovery either.”

Tinsley gasps at the thought.

I bite back a laugh as Tinsley’s cheeks turn red enough to serve as a navigation light for the ship.

“My wardrobe is perfectly professional and will not be falling into a puddle on some dad bod’s cabin floor,” she sputters.

“Professional in what capacity?” Elodie leans her way and blinks. “It’s more of a crime deterrent if you ask me.” Elodie walks a circle around Tinsley like the fashion police she is. “Although I suppose it’s working. No one will be attempting any romantic overtures with that militant tailoring you have going on.”

Tinsley grunts. “At least I’m not writing articles about creative uses for life preservers,” she shoots back.

“That was a safety article!” Elodie protests with mock innocence. “I’m simply concerned about passenger...um,buoyancy.” She offers another cheeky wink, this time in my direction and my mouth falls open.

Oh, I really need to be reading these articles, if for nothing else than to see what I should be censoring—and let’s be honest,learning.

Tinsley steps in dangerously close to our resident racy instructor. “Since when does safety require mood lighting and chocolate sauce?”

“Since always,” Elodie hits back. “You’d know that if you’d try my suggestions instead of filing complaints about them.” Her expression brightens on a dime. “Speaking of which, I have a wonderful idea for your next ship-wide game night. It involves handcuffs and?—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Tinsley looks ready to spontaneously combust.

“Fine.” Elodie gives a somewhat dramatic yet clearly contrived sigh. “Stay married to your rule book. Meanwhile, I have a date with a haunted house hunter that needs a thoroughinvestigation.”

That devilish gleam in her eye as she mentions the haunted house sends a warning bell going off in my head. Especially since I have a feeling I know exactly which ghost hunter she’s planning to investigate.

Tinsley returns her ire to me. “I guess I’ll see you at theWhispers of the Wickedconference tomorrow.” She glares as she says it, although I don’t know why. Nobody is forcing her to go anywhere near that murder-obsessed crowd—besides the fact she’s apparently murder-obsessed herself. “And that is exactly whereIwill track down the killer.” She stomps off into the thick of the casino, most likely to lecture unsuspecting gamblers about proper security protocols while they’re trying to lose their life savings in peace.

“She’sgoing to track down the killer?” Elodie muses in her wake.

“Not if the killer tracks her down first,” I say. “And if left to her own devices, I’m afraid that just may be the case.”

“You know what they say,” Elodie hums. “Don’t fear what you wish for. Besides”—Elodie waves me off— “we’re not that lucky.” She checks her reflection in the mirrored wall behind her. “Speaking of luck, there’s a certain haunted house entrepreneur who has caught my eye. Now if you’ll excuse me”—she begins to sashay in the opposite direction—“I need to arrange for him to inspect a haunting in my cabin.”

“Are you talking about Reed Williams?” I call after her, but she’s already disappeared into the crowd.

Great. Now I have two potential victims to worry about—Tinsley charging headfirst into danger and Elodie plotting to get up close and personal with someone who is definitely on my suspect list.

Solving murders would be so much easier if people would stop volunteering to become the victims.

For now, though, dinner is calling. And with any luck, I can keep both Tinsley and Elodie alive long enough to solve this case—assuming they don’t drive me to commit a murder of my own.

CHAPTER28

While Trixie’s Away, the Ship Will Play—The Elodie Edition

Salutations, ship sweethearts! While our lovebirds are busy reviewing surveillance footage(and really, who knew the security office could be so accommodating?), let’s untangle today’s relationship riddle.

Dear Elodie,

Help! I booked this cruise to rekindle things with my husband, but he’s spent more time at the poker table than with me. Last night he missed our dinner reservation because he wason a winning streak.I’m ready to throw him overboard. Advice?

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