“Some of us are still recovering,” I mutter. Although what took place later at our cabin was totally worth the trauma.
Boomer shows up on the scene, and just like that, the mounting tension is mercifully interrupted. He barrels through the crowd with his camera crew trailing behind him like ducklings after their mother, if their mother were a caffeinated Hollywood producer with delusions of Emmy grandeur. Okay, so the delusions are far more rooted in reality than I’d like to believe.
“Magnificent!” he exclaims, gesturing wildly at the fjord backdrop. “This is exactly the dramatic natural setting we need after last night’s food fight footage. The contrast is perfect—civilized savagery against primal beauty!”
I’m not entirely sure that makes sense, but everyone nods as if he’s just quoted Shakespeare.
“Now, here’s today’s shooting schedule,” he continues, consulting his ever-present clipboard. “We’re splitting into groups for maximum dramatic potential. Trixie, you’ll be paired with Harper for the Flam Railway excursion.”
I glance at Harper, who’s currently documenting the exact angle of the morning sun as it hits the fjord water. Perfect. I’ve been paired with the human calculator. But at least we have art as the common denominator. And she just so happens to be the very next suspect on my list. It seems fate is on my side, after all.
“Val and Beth, you’ll be doing a traditional Norwegian cooking class in the village.”
Val looks like she’s just been sentenced to clean toilets with her diamond rings. “Cooking? Me? I haven’t turned on an oven since 2007.”
“That’s the point,” Boomer says gleefully. “Fish out of water makes great television.”
“And Ransom,” he continues, “you’ll be accompanying Captain Crawford on his inspection of the Stegastein Viewpoint safety features.”
I narrow my eyes at this transparent attempt to separate me from my handsome hubby. I’d bet my last chocolate lava cake that Quinn had something to do with this arrangement.
Ransom growls under his breath, then frowns at me in an effort to let me know he’s not pleased.
“What about us?” Nettie demands, gesturing to herself, Bess, Elodie, and Tinsley. “Are we just supposed to stand around admiring Norwegian knitwear all day?”
“Not that we’d mind,” Bess offers.
“You four will be background extras for the railway scene,” Boomer explains. “We need some familiar faces to react towhatever drama unfolds between Ice Queen and Everywoman.” He gestures between Harper and me.
“Ice Queen?” Harper repeats without looking up from her notebook.
“Just a working character label,” Boomer assures her. “Much likeAccidental Corpse Magnetfor Trixie.”
“Thanks for that,” I mutter.
Ransom winces and shrugs. “They know what they’re doing,” he whispers, and now it’s me frowning at him.
Marlie floats between us, her ghostly shoulder pads looking particularly prominent against the mountain backdrop. “Watch that one,” she warns, nodding toward Harper. “Behind all those calculations is someone who knows how to cover her tracks. Trust me, I’ve seen enough soap opera villains to recognize the type.”
As if on cue, Harper steps away from the group, pulling out her phone and having what appears to be an intense conversation. I lean my ear that way and manage to catch fragments of it.
“No, not yet,” and “I need more time,” and something that sounds suspiciously like “evidence.”
Before I can eavesdrop further, Quinn appears from nowhere, like a security vampire who can sense when fun might be happening. And she really is just that.
She takes a moment to sneer at me. “Ransom, we have an urgent situation that requires your attention,” she announces, her tone suggesting the urgent situation might be something akin toI don’t want you anywhere near your wife. And I don’t doubt that’s the case.
Great. I’ve got both Boomer and Quinn working against me today.
Ransom gives me an apologetic look. “I’ll catch up with you later. Do me a favor and steer clear of trouble.” He lands a kiss on my lips before following Quinn back toward the ship.
“Places, everyone!” Boomer calls. “We’re burning daylight and Norwegian scenery!”
As our groups begin to form, Bess sidles up to me. “Just so you know, Nettie and I plan to thoroughly investigate the gift shop situation while you’re busy with the human spreadsheet.”
“And I’m investigating that tour guide’s knowledge of localattractions,” Elodie adds with a wink as she follows the burly Viking with her gaze.
Tinsley huffs, checking items off her clipboard. “Some of us are actually working, you know.”
