My name is Trixie Troublefield, and I live on a cruise ship. My days are filled with exciting shore excursions, nonstop buffets, and ceaseless games of bingo—can life get any better than this?
A popular women's life coach is entertaining her ardent fans on board the Emerald Queen. Positivity abounds but the future isn't looking so bright for one unfortunate soul.
Not to mention my boyfriend’s ex-wife is joining us on the cruise and if the tension wasn't enough, she has a few strange tendencies that raise more than a brow.
But when a lifeless body is discovered on board, the voyage takes a chilling turn. And to make matters worse, I think my boyfriend’s ex just might have a prime motive for murder as well.
The Emerald Queen is cruising through Alaska’s majestic landscapes, but lurking beneath the pristine beauty, a cold-blooded killer lies in wait. One unsuspecting passenger embarks on a journey to the final frontier—and as fate would have it, it will be their final destination.
Midlife on the high seas is proving to be murder.
Chapter 1
Suddenly Single—What a Trip!
Hey, all! The Emerald Queen of the Seas is off to another Alaskan adventure and so am I! Feel free to ask for any and all of the tips and seaside tricks you’d like to know about. If I don’t know the answers, I’ll find someone who does! I’m looking forward to helping out as much as I can. And I’m also looking forward to an enchanting yet uneventful trip through the glaciers this time around. But with all of the exciting wildlife, excellent local food, and gorgeous crafts, this trip will be anything but uneventful. Buckle up and strap in. I have a feeling this is going to be one heck of a ride.
Emerald Queen of the Seas
Royal Lineage Cruise Lines Itinerary
11 Night Cruise
Day One = Departure: Vancouver, Canada
Day Two = Tracy Arm Fjord
Day Three = Icy Strait Point
Day Four = Sitka
Day Five = Haines
Day Six = Scenic Cruising Hubbard Glacier
Day Seven = Juneau
Day Eight = Skagway
Day Nine = Scenic Cruising Glacier Bay National Park
Day Ten = Ketchikan
Day Eleven at Sea
Back to Vancouver, Canada
“Here they come—a bunch of eager beavers ready to attack the nearest buffet,” Bess sings as we line up next to the crew to see an entire bevy of buoyant passengers flood the gangway as the Emerald Queen of the Seas gets ready to embark on another dreamy eleven-night Alaskan cruise.
Okay, so deep down, I’m afraid this might turn out to be another nightmare instead of anything dreamy.
Don’t get me wrong. Living on board the Emerald Queen has been a dream come true. Not only did I leave my cheating ex-husband on the Eastern Seaboard about nine months ago, but I’ve also left behind my inhibitions as well. I get to dine on all of the delicious food that my hungry heart desires, and I’ve even managed to score the hottest detective on the ship as my new plus one.
But I can’t deny the fact that there’s been a dark cloud following me ever since my life has taken a turn for the fantastic—and that dark cloud just so happens to be in the shape of a dead body.
My name is Trixie Troublefield, and I’m rapidly approaching the big five-O. I stand at an unremarkable height of five feet five inches and sport medium-length blonde locks with my bangs cut short in the same blunt style that was all the rage back in the eighties.
“And here comes a killer,” Nettie says while nudging me. “You don’t happen to see a ghost floating around in the crowd, do you?”
As of late, I may have procured the odd talent of not only stumbling upon a dead body, but I just so happen to have stumbled upon the disembodied as well. Nevertheless, I’m pushing that out of my mind for now.
Bess clucks her tongue. “Ignore her, Trixie.” She wraps an arm around my shoulders and gives me a firm squeeze.
Both Bess and Nettie are two tough grannies somewhere in their eighties. Bess is a redheaded retired teacher who ditched her cheating hubby for the high seas, and Nettie has a full-blown gray tumbleweed sitting on her head. Nettie ditched civilization in general for late-night lobster and endless pit stops to the casino.
They both happen to live on board the Emerald Queen as well. They’re the ones that convinced me to take the plunge and move on board along with them.
“In fact”—Bess nods to Nettie—“I declare this is going to be a murder-free cruise. I got that from Liz Lyon’s new book.”
“Oh?” I inch back. “Does this Liz Lyon person specialize in murder-free cruises?”
I’m only half-teasing.
“No,” Bess says. “She specializes in speaking positively and manifesting your best destiny. And she also happens to be cruising with us on this go-around.”
Nettie nods. “Along with her legion of adoring fans—me being at the top of the list. Bess and I have got our eye out for her. We want to be the first to greet her.”
“Positivity, huh?” I muse. “Sounds like something I can use a little more of.”
Bess and Nettie might be looking for Liz Lyon, but I’m on the lookout for Ransom’s ex-wife.
Ransom Baxter isn’t just the dreamy ship’s detective, he’s a six foot two, dark-haired, blue-eyed god that happens to have the body of a linebacker and who has a penchant for well-tailored Italian suits. He used to work as a behavior profiler for the FBI, but now he’s the head of vessel security.
Ransom’s daughter, Emerson, joined us on our last cruise, and as we were saying goodbye, she let me know privately that her mother would be joining my next jaunt through the glaciers.
That’s right, Ransom’s ex will be here any moment, and even though the Emerald Queen can host well over six thousand souls at once—suddenly this ship feels about as big as a canoe.
I glance to the entrance of the gangway, inspecting every woman that boards the ship even though I have no idea what Ransom’s ex-wife looks like. I can’t help but notice a blonde wearing a flowing blue evening gown as she watches the passengers board the ship with just as much anticipation. That dress is drop-dead gorgeous, with its plunging neckline and bare shoulders. It’s not unusual to see people dressing their best right from the get-go. But she’ll want to don a sweater or two as we head for icy waters.
I bet she’s waiting for that self-help guru just like Bess and Nettie.
There’s a palpable buzz in the air, something a little more electrifying than the standard pre-cruise hype, and I bet that’s exactly it—just about everyone here must be waiting for this Liz Lyon person.
The scent of an all-too familiar spiced cologne permeates my senses, and before I can turn around, I’m in Ransom Baxter’s strong and capable arms.
“Trixie,” His lips curl at the tips as I look up at him.
Ransom Baxter isn’t just as hot as a kitchen fire, he’s stubbornly slow to shed a smile. It’s all a part of his dark mystique. And I’m not complaining one bit. His dark hair is slicked back, he’s donned a black well-tailored Italian suit, and about six different women just gasped at the sight of him.
I can’t blame them. He’s taken my breath away more than once.
He lands a kiss on my lips. “How was your time off the ship?”
“Interesting,” I say, stealing another kiss from him. “Bess, Nettie, and I went on a mission to find street tacos.”
“In Vancouver?”
“I didn’t say it was easy.”
Even though Bess, Nettie, and I live on the ship, we’re still required to disembark with the rest of the passengers until they permit us to board again. We purchase the very same stateroom for each successive trip, and we’re not only friends, but we’re neighbors on the fourteenth floor.
“Well, I hope it was delicious.” He lands another warm kiss to my lips and, might I add, it, too, is delicious.
Someone clears their throat from behind and I turn to see another familiar face.
“Captain.” I shed an easy grin.
Captain Weston Crawford and I are not only very good friends, but outside of Bess and Nettie, he’s the only other person on the ship who’s in on my supernatural secret.
“Trixie.” He nods. Wes has donned his white uniform and is decked out from head to toe with enough colorful buttons and brass to impress even the most jaded passenger. “I just wanted to be present when Ransom shared the news.”
“What news?” My stomach drops a notch as I look up at my handsome beau.
Ransom takes a moment to growl over at Wes.
It’s safe to say they have a rather tense relationship. You see, Wes was once married to Ransom’s sister, and not only did Ransom’s sister divorce the good captain, but she took off with a Colombian drug lord in the dubious the aftermath of their breakup.
Ransom has placed the blame squarely on the captain’s shoulders. And since I don’t know the nitty-gritty details, I choose to abstain from judgment.
Ransom’s chest expands. “I just found out my ex will be sailing with us.”
“I sort of knew that.” I wince up at him. “Emerson told me before she left this morning.”
Wes chuckles at the thought. “I guess she didn’t tell you.” He smirks over at Ransom, and judging by that look on Ransom’s face, he might just have signed his death warrant.
“Watch it,” I don’t hesitate to tell the captain. “You do realize this man is packing heat.”
It’s true. There’s a Glock sitting in a holster under Ransom’s Italian jacket, and no matter how good it might look on him, it’s deadly.
“I’m not shooting anyone,” Ransom growls at Wes once again. “Yet.” He turns his attention my way. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when Emerson broke the news. My ex, Sloan, just sent me a text about twenty minutes ago. I guess she wanted to make it a surprise.”
Wes ticks his head. “Or she wanted to make sure it was too late for you to jump ship.”
“Why would Sloan want to ambush you that way?” I ask Ransom without thinking. “Ooh, sorry. Not that she’s ambushing you per se, but…”
Well, let’s call an ambush an ambush.
Wes nods. “I believe what Trixie wants to know is if Sloan is still interested.”
“No.” The word speeds from Ransom’s lips. “Nor am I. We’ve gone in different directions, and we’re both more than content with that.” He lands another kiss to my lips. “Much more.”
Wes sighs. “At least the Queen’s Mall will be happy to see her.”
“That’s a fact.” Ransom nods my way. “Sloan does love to shop. That woman can teach the federal government a lesson or two on how to blow through a bucket of money.”
A soft laugh strums from me at the expense of his ex.
“I’m sure she’s wonderful,” I say. “She has to be. You both raised Emerson, and she’s a perfect young lady. But outside of that, I don’t know anything about the woman.”
Or what led to their matrimonial demise, but I’m not about to go there—even though I sort of want to go there. I’d ask Wes once we’re alone, but I feel bad prying into Ransom’s life without his permission. I’m sure when it’s right he’ll fill me in on the grisly details, or the banal details. Not every marriage ends in a spectacular blaze of glory like my own.
“Sloan is a defense attorney.” Ransom’s jaw grows tight for a second. “Family law. Her specialty is underprivileged women. She’s always had an altruistic heart.”
My stomach clenches when he mentions her altruistic heart.
Why did I have to go digging for information and thereby reminding him what a gem she is?
Good grief, at the rate I’m going, I’ll have him proposing to her before the cruise ends.
A series of screams emanate from all around us at once and Ransom reaches for his gun.