Page 58 of Transatlantic Terror Cruise

The casino pulses with formal night energy with a cacophony of chirping slot machines mixing with the rustle of silk gowns and the clink of martini glasses.

The air is thick with expensive perfume, expensive booze, anticipation, and copious amounts of greed.

Let’s face it. No one steps into the casino without dreams of winning big. Although judging by the rather violent assault Nettie just launched on a slot machine, some dreams are more determined than others.

My pale lavender evening gown, another Elodie special, catches the rainbow lights as if it were trapping a star. The bodice hugs in all the right places, while the skirt flows to the ground like liquid—assuming liquid came with a thigh-high slit that makes walking both possible and potentially scandalous.

Bess looks elegant in deep purple silk that makes her crimson hair gleam, while Nettie has gone full showgirl in a red and yellow sequined number that could probably be seen from the International Space Station.

Ransom shakes his head my way as his eyes ride up and down my body. “I know I’ve already said it a dozen times this evening, but you are killing it in that dress.”

Tinsley huffs a dry laugh. “Murder is her specialty.”

“I wouldn’t arrest you.” He punctuates the sentiment with a kiss on my cheek.

It should be noted that the man fills out a tuxedo in ways that should probably be illegal in at least three states.

Bess chuckles. “Murder might be her specialty, but so is tracking down a killer,” she says while studying the one-armed bandit in front of her. “But right now, the only thing I’m interested in tracking down is another win.Let’s go, universe,” she shouts as she settles in next to Nettie. “How about sending me a killer payday?”

Both Bess and Nettie claim their favorite slot machines, while the rest of us huddle nearby, and I must say that Ransom and Wes look particularly dashing in their tuxedos. Even Tinsley has traded her usual pantsuit for a sleek black column dress, although somehow, she’s managed to make even that look uptight and regimented.

“I agree with Ransom,” Wes says, nodding my way. “You’re looking good, Troublefield,”

“Baxter,” I add with a smile. “And you both clean up pretty nice yourselves.” I give Ransom a wink as I say it.

All around us, formal-clad passengers float between gaming tables like exotic birds, their laughter mixing with the electronic whirl and twirl of slot machines. Although I seriously doubt half these people realize they’re gambling alongside actual murder suspects.

The excitement is contagious for a lot of reasons, but mostly because formal night is about to bleed into the hour we’ve been waiting for—the upcoming Midnight Murder Mingle.

“So, Detective,” Wes says, adjusting his bowtie. “How’s the investigation going?”

“Which one?” Ransom asks, looking far too handsome for my powers of concentration. “The official investigation or my wife’s?”

Tinsley belts out a laugh. “Sorry, Ransom, but we all know which investigation he was referring to.”

“That’s right,” Wes says as he bows my way. “I was talking to the detective on the case.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Well, for starters, I’ve been thinking about the brooch we found at the scene—right next to Brad’s body. It looked like the same rhinestone lipstick brooch Elvie was wearing the night of the murder.”

Ransom nods. “I bagged it for evidence and I’ve been thinking about it, too.” His fingers trace a quick pattern down my back and it makes it nearly impossible to focus on murder.

“Speaking of evidence.” Wes scowls at Ransom. “The security footage that night was useless. The cameras were facing the wrong direction.”

Ransom scowls right back. “I believe it was you who instructed me to have them facing the crowd.”

“Andthisis the time you decide to listen to me?”

Ransom’s jaw redefines itself. “In the future, allow me to do my job as I see fit.”

“I saw Elvie and Brad arguing that night,” Tinsley cuts in, managing to make the gossip sound like an official report. “Before, well, you know.”

“I saw that, too,” I say, turning to Ransom. “Hey, remember when you mentioned Elvie was making transfers from their joint account? How does that fit with Reed telling us Brad was dipping into the Luscious and Delicious cosmetics account?”

Ransom frowns with a sigh. “It doesn’t.”

“Exactly,” Tinsley pounces. “Something is amiss. And as soon as that final piece clicks, I just know I’m going to solve this case.” She shrugs our way. “I’ve listened to enough of Brad Whipple’s podcasts to know how to follow a trail of clues. And what a prize it will be formeout of all of his fans to solve this case. The bragging rights alone are worth the effort.”

Ransom ticks his head to the side. “Take all the bragging rights you want. I need this case closed, and fast.”

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