Page 71 of Transatlantic Terror Cruise

“What happened?” she demands, eyeing the chocolate-covered chaos behind us. “Why is Becky Lee being escorted away in handcuffs?”

“My wife’s investigation has led to yet another arrest,” Ransom doesn’t hesitate to spill the news—and in the sweetest way.

I will never stop swooning over this man.

“Becky Lee is our killer,” I say to Tinsley without missing a beat. “She just confessed.”

“What?” Tinsley squawks. “I step away for ten minutes to deal with some ridiculous anonymous complaint about improper sprinkle distribution at the donut station, and you solve the entire murder?”

“Don’t feel too bad,” Bess chides. “Some people think donuts are pretty important business, too.” She nods at Nettie. “Case in point, your anonymous complainer.”

Tinsley’s hands ball up in fists as she gives a frustrated shriek in Nettie’s direction.

“You missed a great chase scene,” Nettie is quick to inform her as if that makes anything better. “And a chocolate fountain casualty. But don’t worry, I managed to save three donuts.” She pats her stomach as evidence of their safekeeping.

“It was an even dozen and you know it,” Bess says, linking arms with her bestie, and we all share a quick laugh as Wes leads us down the hall with both Ransom and Elodie striding by my side.

“Where are you all going?” Tinsley asks, falling into step with our growing parade.

“To the honeymoon suite,” Wes announces. “Where I plan to lock these two up until we dock. Maybe that way we can finish this cruise without any more homicides.”

“Very funny,” I say without a modicum of humor. Even though he’s probably not wrong.

“Ah yes, the honeymoon suite.” Elodie sighs as she pulls me along. “I have some suggestions for in-room activities. I just posted a new blog about creative uses for room service ice?—”

“No one asked you,” Tinsley cuts in rather terse.

“Story of my life, honey,” Elodie shoots back with a laugh caught in her throat. “And it hasn’t stopped me yet.”

“I’m stopping you, all right,” Tinsley mutters with that sourpuss expression of hers firmly intact.

I bet she’s cranky. Most likely because she’s not the one about to be locked in the honeymoon suite with Ransom. Any room would do really.

And honestly? I’d be cranky, too, if I were her.

We parade through the ship like some kind of victory march—if victory marches involved chocolate-covered evidence, contraband donuts, and Elodie’s increasingly specific and very delicious suggestions for honeymoon activities.

“I still can’t believe it was Becky Lee.” Bess shakes her head. “Although I suppose the nursing school thing should have been a clue. Nobody helps their sister study that enthusiastically.”

“Speaking of studying…” Elodie purrs my way. “I have some extracurricular activities the two of you should consider implementing as?—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Tinsley warns.

“What?” Elodie balks with a laugh. “I was just going to suggest some light reading. My latest article about proper use of the balcony furniture?—”

“Is a hazard,” Wes cuts her off this time. “Is it too late for a retraction?”

Tinsley nods. “Wes, you should have her handcuffed for spewing a criminal amount of innuendo.”

“Promises, promises.” Elodie winks over at Wes and we share another laugh.

We reach the honeymoon suite in a mob as Wes opens the door.

“In you go, lovebirds. Try to actually enjoy your honeymoon this time. And if either of you leaves this room before we dock, I’m firing you.”

He’s about to shove us in when Nettie waves a hand.

“Wait,” she calls out, pulling a donut out of her sleeve. “Here’s one for the road, kids.”

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