Page 8 of Transatlantic Terror Cruise

I shoot another look their way. I wouldn’t have noticed, but Elodie is a master at picking up on things like marital discord. She should know, she’s caused enough of it herself.

Tinsley groans as she continues to ogle the couple like a woman obsessed. “I’ve listened to every one of their episodes—threetimes,” she gushes as she practically lunges onto the couple as we come upon them. She extends her hand to Brad without hesitation. “The Basement Butcher Series? Pure genius. The way you built tension in episode four with that recording of the dripping pipe? I couldn’t sleep for days!”

Thankfully, both Brad and his wife manage to chuckle and refrain from calling security. Although considering that I’m married to the chief of vessel security, I wouldn’t mind if they made that call. I am desperately missing the lips of that handsome man I married.

Ransom can arrest me anytime. Now would be nice.

“She’s seen each episode three times?” Elodie leans my way. “Well, that explains a lot. Nothing like studying up on your future career as a psychopath.”

Nettie nods. “I’ve always sensed that our little cruise director had some serious serial killer energy.”

Bess shrugs. “At least she’s found her people.”

“Listen up, you three”—Tinsley’s voice rises an octave as she turns our way— “I’d like for you to meet Brad and Elvie Whipple—the best of the best when it comes to tracking down killers. They not only report on cold cases, they helpsolvethem.” She makes a face at me. “Not evenyoucould best their record.”

“Oh?” Brad perks up as he looks my way. “What’s this? Don’t tell me this beautiful young woman is my competition?”

“Did you say young?” I mutter, mostly to myself.

“Our Trixie is looking rather youthful these days.” Elodie nods his way. “It’s thatI’ve just been bedded by Handsome Ransom dewy glow,” she says rather shamelessly as she turns my way. “I know it well from the myriad of women he bedded before you. I’ve never seen anything like it. You may have been married to a plastic surgeon in the past, but you’re married to the fountain of youth now.” She leans in my way and whispers, “The sexual fountain of youth.”

“I knew I traded up,” I whisper right back.

Tinsley squints my way. “I wouldn’t call her your competition,” she’s quick to correct him. “Although Trixie Troublefield is our resident ship sleuth.” She offers a snide smile my way after omitting my shiny new surname. “You might even say she’s a regular body magnet,” she continues. “In fact, don’t be surprised if you get some fresh material for your podcast before this cruise is over no thanks to her deadly luck.”

A dark laugh ripples through our little circle and I shoot Bess and Nettie a look for participating.

But Brad’s eyes linger a beat too long in my direction.

“A body magnet, you say?” He leans my way. “Now that is fascinating. We should talk about your cases sometime. Over dinner, perhaps?”

Elodie pulls back her shoulders and thrusts forward two of her best assets by proxy. “Trixie is on her honeymoon,” she tells him without hesitation. “But I’d be happy to step in for her. I’m just as good, if not better.” She winks my way. “Better atcertainthings that are best done in private. But I’d like to think she’s catching up.”

Good grief.

Elvie doesn’t look all that amused either. “Hear that, Brad?” She honks at him. “The woman is on herhoneymoon. That means she’s married.” Her lips curve north, but her smile could freeze hellfire. “As areyou,” she’s quick to remind him. “Although that little detail seems to slip your mind more often these days.” She lifts a cold shoulder his way. “Along with other parts of your anatomy that tend to wander.”

A small crowd presses in to shake their hands, and just like that, we’ve been momentarily separated.

Bess lets out a low whistle as she leans toward Elodie and me. “Looks as if someone is sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Nettie huffs out a laugh. “Bold of you to assume he’s sleeping anywhere near her cabin.”

The crowd clears again and we’re about to step inside the lounge when Nettie stops short in front of Elvie.

“Oh, my sparkling stars,” Nettie coos while pointing at the glittering brooch on Elvie’s collar. “That lipstick has more ice than theTitanic’slast night out.”

The entire lot of us groans.

Number one—you never joke about theTitanicon a cruise ship; it’s all sorts of bad juju. And number two—see number one.

“Do you like it?” Elvie’s expression brightens with what looks like a sincere smile. “It’s a part of my Luscious and Delicious Cosmetics collections. I’m thinking about branching out into jewelry, too.” She preens while giving the brooch a quick pat of appreciation. “Each piece is hand-set with Swarovski crystals.”

Brad snorts. “The one venture of hers I can actually be proud of. When she’s not bankrupting us with product recalls and lawsuit settlements.” He belts out a laugh before winking her way. “Just kidding, dear.”

“Always the supportive husband,” Elvie shoots back and her voice could cut diamonds—or in this case Swarovski crystals.

But dig or no dig, Elodie’s eyes light up, ignoring the marital warfare like only she can.

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