Page 81 of Fire and Ice Cruise

Marina straightens her shoulders, smooths her midnight blue dress, and looks at me with newfound determination.

“You heard the ghost,” she says. “We have a killer to catch.”

We make a beeline toward Holland, who says a few parting words to a couple before turning our way, and I nearly run right through her.

“I’m so sorry,” she says with a laugh. “You two birthday girls look like you’re having way too much fun.”

“About as much fun as you can have when you turn fifty,” I say.

And when you’re hunting down a killer.

My thoughts run wild on how to broach this. Oh, I know. I’ll butter her up first.

“Silas showed me that picture of your sweet nephew. I bet you’ve already hit the gift shop and loaded up an entire suitcase of souvenirs for him.”

She squints my way and tucks a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m afraid you’ve confused me with someone else. I don’t have a nephew.”

“Oh?” I tilt my head into the crowd for a moment.

I’m not losing my mind. I can’t. I’m only fifty.

“You don’t have a nephew named Griffin?” I ask, nodding as if to nudge her memory.

Holland shakes her head. “Not me.” She waves at someone in the distance. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to say goodbye to my friends before the cruise ends.”

She takes off, and a breath hitches in my throat.

“What is it, Trixie?” Marina asks as she steps in front of me.

“Come on.” I grab her by the hand. “We have a killer to catch before this cruise ends.”

CHAPTER 27

We find Silas stepping out onto the private deck outside the Golden Era Ballroom, seeking refuge from the chaos inside.

The sky is a deep shade of purple bleeding into pink, the kind of sunset that feels like a curtain coming down—fitting, considering I’m about to end somebody’s final act. Stars glitter overhead as though someone spilled diamonds across black velvet. The air smells like salt and champagne and the particular brand of cold that comes from being surrounded by the ocean.

A shower of pink stars appears beside Silas, sparkling and swirling, and Celeste materializes from thin air.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” she purrs, settling in to watch as her body glows like a flame.

Silas stands at the railing with both hands wrapped around the metal, knuckles pale, as if he’s bracing for a storm only he can see coming. His charcoal suit looks expensive even in the dim light, his salt-and-pepper hair perfectly styled, his posture that of a man who’s spent decades projecting confidence he may or may not actually feel.

“Hello, Silas,” I say.

He turns, and his expression shifts through surprise, wariness, and finally lands on a polite party face. “Well, if it isn’t the birthday girls. Having a good evening?”

“It’s been enlightening,” Marina says, moving to stand beside me like a united front. “How about you? Did you enjoy the cruise?”

Silas’s smile doesn’t feel genuine. “It’s been eventful. But I’ll be glad to get back home. You don’t know how much you can miss something until you’re half a world away from it.”

I nod slowly. “Like your son?”

Silas goes white, so white his tan looks spray-painted on.

“Excuse me?” He tilts his ear toward me. “I’m afraid the wind distorted your words.”

Marina shakes her head. “I heard them just fine. She asked about your son.”