“Do you know how much these pants cost?” Santino protests, his voice carrying the dramatic inflection of a man who’s delivered ultimatums to fictional crime syndicates for four decades.
“The rules are clear,” Boomer insists.
With a theatrical sigh that deserves its own Emmy consideration, Santino returns to the edge of the pool, closes his eyes, and steps into the blue Jell-O with the resignation of a prisoner walking the plank.
The crowd goes wild.
By now, Val has cleared the Jell-O pool and is halfway up the rope ladder, while Beth and Harper are close behind. On the husbands’ side, Bridge has finally untangled himself from the hula hoops and is hobbling toward the balance beam, while Lance tries to scrape himself off the deck with as much dignity as possible.
Victor Darkmore, who’s been oddly quiet throughout the competition, suddenly sprints forward with surprising speed, bypassing the balance beam entirely with a leap that defies his age, then charges through the foam noodle forest like a bull in a china shop.
“Wow, where did that come from?” I wonder aloud.
“Adrenaline is a powerful thing,” Ransom points out. “So is the fear of public humiliation.”
Victor reaches the Jell-O pool just as Val is ringing the victory bell. Without hesitation, he dives in face-first, creating a splash of blue goo that catches several spectators in the splash zone.
“And the winners are... THE WIVES!” Boomer announces to thunderous applause.
Val takes a victory lap around the deck, high-fiving audience members while Beth and Harper exchange triumphant hugs. Thehusbands, covered in various degrees of bright blue Jell-O and wounded pride, accept their defeat with the grace of men who know their real victories come in the form of royalty checks.
“Not surprising,” Ransom says with a slight smile. “Although I think Victor might have had a chance if he’d started with that burst of energy.”
“Now, for our special event,” Boomer continues, “we need some fresh blood! A test of virility that will separate the men from the boys!”
I feel Ransom shift slightly beside me as Wes approaches, looking uncharacteristically casual in navy slacks and a white polo, his captain’s hat nowhere to be seen. That’s the captain’s equivalent of being incognito. Not that it works. His dimples always give him away.
“They’re really pulling out all the stops today,” Wes says, nodding toward the makeshift strength-testing area being hastily assembled. “Boomer just asked if I’d participate in the next event. Something about needing younger specimens after the obstacle course fiasco.” He pats his stomach as if demonstrating his viral youth.
“Are you going to do it?” I ask with a laugh. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s shown off his stuff.
Wes grins. “Why not? It’s all in good fun. Besides, the passengers love seeing their captain participate.” He turns to Ransom. “What about you, Baxter? Care to show these daytime drama kings how it’s done?”
Ransom smirks. “They didn’t bring me on this show for background scenery.”
“All right, hotshot.” Wes laughs. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Captain Crawford! Security Chief Baxter!” Boomer’s voice booms over the PA system. “Would you gentlemen please join us on deck?”
Ransom hesitates. His expression might look unreadable to the untrained eye, but I know he’s less than thrilled.
“It would really help the investigation to get closer to the suspects,” I whisper, giving him an encouraging smile. “Plus, I’ve never actually seen you in an athletic competition that you haven’t dominated.”
I didn’t saywon. It was actually Wes who won the last time they tangoed like this.
“Fine,” he says, for my ears only. “But I’m doing this for the investigation.”
“Of course,” I say, biting down on a smile. “What other reason could there possibly be?”
“To teach me a lesson?” Wes teases.
“That’s the reason I do most things,” Ransom shoots back, and I watch them go.
Here’s hoping there’s not another homicide in the making.
With those two, you never really know.
CHAPTER 17
