Murder on a Ghost Ship (High Seas Mystery Series Book 2) by Diane Rapp

Author:Diane Rapp [Rapp, Diane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Mystery, International Mystery & Crime, Supernatural, Romance, Paranormal, Mystery & Suspense
Amazon: B005PA9DTE
Publisher: Diane Rapp
Published: 2011-09-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8 ~ Gunshots on Ship

Fog crept across the water like a thief stealing the moonlight, its chilly fingertips tracing the ship’s rigging with droplets of condensation. The lonely dirge of the ship’s foghorn punctuated the steady rhythm of whitecaps slapping against steel as the ship plowed steadfastly through rolling waves.

Taking a shortcut to the dining room, Steven and Kayla climbed the outside staircase and skirted the slippery perimeter decking, their footsteps resonating like drumbeats across the empty surface. Kayla clutched Steven’s arm as much for warmth as support. As they hurried through the nearest door, the welcome clamor of silverware against plates and the din of conversations filtered from the dining room. Emily stood waiting. Her warm smile seemed like a beacon to Kayla.

“It’s bloody depressing out there,” Steven said, brushing droplets of water from his sleeves. “It’s a good job we don’t need to stand watch on deck tonight.”

Emily nodded. “The ship’s got a modern navigation system that we installed during dry dock. Now I appreciate its value. John says you can’t see further than fifty feet from the bridge tonight. He’s on duty, so I’m free to join you.”

Kayla said, “I’m starved. Let’s get inside.”

“Your escort ladies.” Steven cocked both arms and grinned as the women each clasped an elbow. Paula waved eagerly from across the room as Steven navigated his escorts through a maze of round tables filled with cheerful diners. Each table sat eight but Paula’s table was nearly empty as she gestured to fill vacant chairs.

Kayla marveled at the transformation of Paula’s appearance. Dressed in a form-fitting teal cocktail dress with black lace scarf draped across the neckline, Paula no longer looked mousy. Her hair was a coppery red that glistened in the candlelight and flawless makeup accented her almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones.

“Hi! You should meet my tablemates, George and Leanne,” Paula said. “Isn’t this weather horrible? Fog should stay in England where it belongs.”

Emily forced a laugh. “You can’t blame the weather on us. We ordered sun for the entire crossing but the weather gods love to mess things up.”

“We’ll do a rain dance tonight and see if the gods send us sunshine.” Paula giggled and squeezed Steven’s arm with more affection than Kayla deemed appropriate. Watching Paula, Kayla wondered if the change in appearance ignited a flamboyant personality. Paula brazenly flirted with men, the waiters, and passing strangers. After each flirtation Paula’s gaze drifted toward Vincent. She frowned when her antics remained unnoticed.

A waiter stood patiently at the table, waiting. “Would madam care to order?” he asked. Startled Kayla scanned the menu and ordered. She buttered a roll and gazed around the dining room. Bone china on white linen, polished silver, flickering candles, sparkling glassware, and waiters dressed in black generated an atmosphere of elegance. Multi-colored lights illuminated a shimmering ice sculpture—an eagle with wings outstretched grasped a fish in its claws and looked ready to escape from icy waves.

Kayla enjoyed the festive atmosphere, the low hum of conversation, the tinkling of ice cubes in crystal, and the pop of champagne accompanied by laughter.

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