Page 13 of Transatlantic Terror Cruise

“Why does everyone assume I’m responsible?” I gag on the words.

Nettie scoffs. “If the knife fits… Now go on and wrap your hand around it. I bet it fits like a glove.”

Bess rolls her eyes. “It’s a knife, for Pete’s sake. It fits everyone like a glove. Besides, you should know, you were the one holding one just like it back at the murder memorabilia display.”

We all gasp at once.

“You don’t think that’s the same knife, do you?” Elodie asks what every one of us is thinking.

I nod. “Judging by that long back handle, I’d say it was.”

Bess gasps as she grabs Nettie by the arm. “Well, if it is, that means it has your fingerprints all over it!”

Nettie’s eyes balloon to the size of life preservers. “That means I’m the killer!”

Footsteps pound in this direction.

“Trixie?” Ransom shouts from the other side of the curtain before making an appearance. He stops short once he spots us, then his eyes drift to the body and he lets a few loose expletives fly. “Is he dead?” He drops to his knee and checks the man for a pulse before calling it in over his phone. “My men are on their way. Wes, why don’t you help cordon off the crime scene? I’ll take it from here.”

Wes shakes his head. “Sorry, buddy, but this ismycrime scene. You’re off the clock. Quinn and I can handle it.”

“Quinn broke her arm and medical has requested a medevac to airlift her back to New York. She needs pins put in.”

“What?” Wes hisses. “How did I not know this?”

“I was just on my way to track you down when I heard the commotion.”

A small crowd ambles this way and soon more screams light up the lounge.

“Everyone, step away from the area,” Ransom shouts while holding up his badge. “This is an active crime scene.”

More screams ensue—this time with a lot more terror behind them.

“Myactive crime scene,” Wes corrects just above a whisper. “Look, Ransom. You’re on your honeymoon. I don’t care how many people drop dead on this ship, you’re not investigating.” Gasps ensue from the peanut gallery gathering behind us. But Wes ignores them long enough to spin on his heels and point my way. “You either.”

Now it’s me gasping the loudest.

Ransom barks orders into his radio while Wes corrals the growing crowd of curious onlookers and manages to push them back a few feet. And yet their faces press against the velvet curtains like kids at a candy store window—if the candy store specialized in murder.

Tinsley slithers through the crowd like a snake in designer heels. “Well, well,” she muses as she shakes her head down at the corpse. “It looks as if someone’s honeymoon wasn’t enough to hold her interest.” She shoots me a look. “You just couldn’t stand the competition from all those true crime enthusiasts, could you? You just have to prove you’re the brightest and the best when push comes to shoving the knife in someone’s back.”

More gasps ensue from the crowd amassing around us like a wall of judgmental—well, true crime enthusiasts.

Don’t these people have a cold case to stalk? I sigh at the thought, considering the case at my feet is growing colder by the second.

“What’s happening?” a shrill voice shouts and breaks up the discourse and we turn to see Elvie trot up. The poor woman squints down at the body for a moment too long before taking in a lung full of air that never seems to end.

“Oh my goodness,” Elvie groans as if she were just kicked in the gut, and I bet she feels far worse than that. “Is that my husband?” Her hands fly to her mouth. “Oh, who am I kidding?” She rolls her eyes. “I’m not all that surprised.” She fans herself for a moment. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Let me help you,” Bess says, making her way to the woman. “How about we get you a seat at the bar.”

“Good thinking,” Nettie says, traipsing their way. “That’s the best place on the ship to get a stiff drink. I’m buying.”

Elvie chokes on her words as she casts one last glance at her husband. “I guess this cancels our dinner plans,” she mutters as Bess and Nettie shuttle her off.

“I’ll say,” Elodie scoffs. “Someone just canceled all of that man’s plans forever.”

Reed materializes from the crowd and bustles his way over.

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