Page 83 of Viking Vengeance Cruise

“I stand by my assessment,” Wes says.

I stretch my legs out and let the heat sink into my muscles. “Fine. You want the rundown?”

“Please,” Wes says. “Someone has to fill me in on where the case is at, and we all know it’s not going to be your husband.”

Ransom dips his chin as he narrows his ire onto Wes. “You do realize I pack heat.”

“Not at the moment,” Wes says without missing a beat. “And that’s exactly why I felt brave enough to say it.”

Laughter goes around. Well, almost all the way around. Ransom simply purses his lips. Have I mentioned he’s lethally handsome? Especially when he’s lobbing death threats at the man in charge of the ship.

“All right,” I say. “Let’s start with Sienna. Sweet, nervous, raising her grandkids while her daughter goes through something rough. Astrid was going to expose whatever that something was at the costume gala. Sienna had motive, she had opportunity, and she was overheard telling Astrid, ‘You can’t do this to me.’ But she also cried on a fortress wall this morning, and she seems genuinely devastated.” I take a breath. “One more thing. Sienna dug into Astrid’s past looking for a counterpunch, and she found one. The perfect marriage was a sham. Astrid had an affair with her husband’s business partner, embezzled from the company to pay for it, and framed the partner when her husband noticed the money missing. He’s still in prison. So our victim wasn’t just controlling. She was a criminal who let an innocent man rot for two decades.”

Ransom’s chest expands. “I’m going to look into that. I don’t like the thought of an innocent man rotting in prison.”

“Thank you,” I tell him.

“So is Sienna guilty or a good actress?” Nettie asks.

“It’s unclear to me.”

“What about the dramatic one?” Bess asks.

“Freya?” I wince. “She confessed to having an affair with her best friend’s husband. Astrid found out and threatened to expose her publicly. Freya had a screaming match with Astrid two hours before she died.” I pause because the next part deserves its own moment. “Also, she’s the one who told me my flirtatious Viking ghost is actually an accountant named Gerald who went LARPing on weekends.”

Silence. Even the stones stop hissing out of respect.

A few jaws drop around the room, all belonging to the women. Then Nettie bursts out laughing so hard she nearly rolls off the top tier. “Your sexy ghost is a numbers guy?”

“Was. He’s dead now. Although I like to think he’s up there somewhere balancing celestial ledgers and finally getting the respect a man in a fur cloak deserves.”

“A LARPing accountant,” Nettie wheezes, wiping her eyes. “That might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Spreadsheets by day, pillaging by weekend. The man contained multitudes.”

Magnus would be beside himself if he were here. Thankfully, he seems to avoid saunas. My guess is the steam wilts his fur cloak, and a soggy Viking loses roughly ninety percent of his brooding power. Gerald, though. I’m willing to bet Gerald loved a good steam.

“And the third suspect?” Ransom asks, though I’m pretty sure he already knows the answer down to the punctuation.

“Poppy. Perfect hair, perfect manners, wealthy as can be, and genuinely lovely. She comforted Sienna this morning, she speaks about Astrid with real affection, and she’s been nothing but warm to me since the day I met her. Honestly, my only note is that she has opinions about the other two. Then again, so does everyone in that book club. Opinions come free with the velvet.”

“So she’s the nice one,” Marina says.

“She’s the nice one.” I shake my head. “Which leaves me with a few suspects, a couple of motives, and absolutely no idea which one actually did the not-so-nice deed.”

“Maybe none of them did,” Nettie suggests. “Maybe it was someone else entirely.”

“Ooh.” I cringe at the thought. “Don’t say that. I’ve already invested too much emotional energy in these three. Frankly, at this point, one of them owes me a confession out of common courtesy. Or I might be moved to confess to the crime myself just to wrap things up.”

Wes eases back, his towel riding dangerously low, and I notice Marina noticing. “What’s your gut telling you?”

“That I’m terrible at this and should stick to teaching art classes.”

“Your gut’s got a terrible poker face,” Ransom says, planting a kiss on my temple. “You’ve solved every case you’ve stumbled into.”

“Stumbled being the key word.”

“But you still solved each case,” Bess says with a touch of pride.

And she should feel every bit proud because she helped solve each and every one of them right alongside me. Her and Nettie both. Somewhere between the muumuus and the mayhem, those two became my people, and I wouldn’t trade them for all the cloudberry jam in Finland. Unless you threw in some of those amazing cinnamon rolls. Then I might consider it.