Page 48 of The Situation Ship
She gasped, dropping to her knees. Calliope sat on the throne, her eyes staring into Poppy’s, searching, pleading for her help.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Poppy panted, holding her hand. “Help! She’s still alive!” she screamed, but with so much chaos, no one was paying attention.
Calliope squeezed her hand painfully, but she couldn’t speak. The terror in her eyes told Poppy she wanted to say something, but her mouth wobbled and closed again.
“Save your energy. Help is coming!Isaiah!” Poppy yelled. With the amount of blood Calliope had lost, she wouldn’t have long.
She expected Isaiah to appear by her side and pull her away for her safety, but there was no sign of him. He might have gone to get security to help everyone get out without being trampled.
“Where the hell is security?” Poppy muttered, feeling Calliope’s pulse slow. Her grip on Poppy softened. “Calliope, just hold on. You’re going to be okay.”
But Calliope shook her head ever so slightly, and tears trickled down her cheeks. They both knew her fate was inevitable.
“You’re not alone. I’m right here with you,” Poppy said, offering her some peace at the end.
She barely got the last word out before the light left Calliope’s eyes.
Poppy fell back on her feet, a surge of hot adrenaline flashing up her spine. Unable to take her eyes away, she didn’t know if she was going to throw up or pass out. Her mind raced with endless questions.
She didn’t even realise she was still holding Calliope’s hand until she was shoved away by the sudden arrival of the medics. They didn’t work on her long before calling it, and Poppy knew they were asking her questions, but all she could focus on was Calliope’s drained expression.
The medics covered the body with a sheet, but it didn’t quite cover her hand. Poppy went to adjust the sheet, only to notice something clenched in Calliope’s freshly manicured fingers.Glancing around, Poppy freed the crumpled-up paper in her fist. Then, ignored by the medics, she went to the stairs at the edge of the stage to escape the mess and give the better-late-than-never security team space.
Where the hell is Isaiah?she asked herself, searching the theatre. Some curious guests lingered; others arrived to see what the commotion was about.Vultures.
Poppy hung her head. They’d lost the chance to find out more about Patrice’s murder, but the tape had revealed Calliope wasn’t working alone, which meant she wasn’t the mastermind but another puppet. She waited for Isaiah, unable to decidewhether she should read the crumpled note. Even if she felt betrayed by him, she needed to know what he thought about this latest development.
The hairs on her neck stood up suddenly. Poppy looked up.
As clear as day, Joshua stood by the door. The light streaming in from the foyer made him look ghostly, but it was him. He was no mirage or hallucination.
Poppy struggled to her feet, her legs still numb from the adrenaline rush. She started down the steps, ignoring the members of security she passed who urged her to stay. She had to get out of there before they detained her. She didn’t want them to learn about the note, and she didn’t want Joshua to escape.
“Hello?” Poppy called out as she went to the observation deck. “Joshua? I know you’re out here!”
All she could hear was the water slapping against the ship’s sides.
Utterly alone on the deck, she felt like she was losing her mind. She sat in a lounge chair and put her head between her legs to slow her pounding heart. The cool air helped settle her nerves as she took a moment to uncrumple and read the note for clues
To her confusion,hername was hastily scrawled on one side while the other simply readYou’re welcome. Poppy frowned. Was the note addressed to her, thanking her? Or was it a message from Calliope to the killer? She realised she might be the next target, and this note could be a thank-you to the killer inadvance. Either way, she didn’t want anything connecting her to Calliope’s murder, so she ripped the note to shreds and tossed it over the railing.
Someone was either taunting her or trying to frame her. If the killer thought they were doing her a favour by eliminating Calliope, it meant they didn’t understand why Poppy had gone after the three people in Isaiah’s file. The killer wasn’t someone who had been around long. Dug knew all Poppy and Martha’s secrets; if he had been the one behind turning this luxury cruise into a nightmare, he would have known why Poppy had targeted the others and how Calliope didn’t fit into Poppy’s criteria, which made her doubt that Dug was the one pulling the strings. The possibilities made her head spin. She considered trying to track Isaiah down again, but she was still mad at him for flashing that file in her face while she was having a vulnerable moment.
Actually, she had expected him to come after her anyway, to scold her for running off and leaving him. Had he listened when she’d said he was fired? Was he letting her fend for herself? She couldn’t be angry at him for listening to her, yet she was. All this was about more than what she did or didn’t feel for him and how he saw her. They had to find the culprit, or bodies would continue to drop. At least he couldn’t blame her for killing Calliope.
It’s not like you haven’t killed before,her conscience taunted her.
That was different,she argued with herself.
Is it? Do you think Isaiah would think it’s different? Murder is murder. He didn’t call you a monster – you did. What would he think if he knew about what really happened to those in that special file of his? Do you think he’d come running to your rescue if he knew about the stairs and mopping up all that blood? How you enjoyed every second?
“Stop it. They got what they deserved, and I’m not sorry.” Poppy let out a steady breath, trying to focus on the moonlight reflecting on the still water instead of the harrowing images burnt into her mind.Maybe the killer on board is connected to those people I killed?If someone was trying to get back at her for her role in their deaths, why weren’t they coming after her directly?
A sharp cry broke through her thoughts. Poppy rushed to look over the railing to the pool deck below. She couldn’t see anyone, but heard the sound of rushed footsteps. Afraid someone else might be in trouble, she kicked off her heels and hurried down the steps, only to find the pool area empty.
Before she could return to the observation deck, a gargled cry came from behind. Poppy turned to find a man lying in a bubbling jacuzzi, its water crimson around him. She didn’t even think about her safety before climbing in. It hit her: the white jacket she’d seen Joshua wearing earlier, the blond highlights…
“Joshua?” Poppy rasped, shaking him to try and wake him. His head was resting on the jacuzzi’s side.
