Page 84 of Viking Vengeance Cruise

Marina straightens on her bench, and her whole bearing switches over to cruise director mode. “Tonight’s the last night of the cruise. It’s formal night. The book club is doing a special Viking-themed dinner, and everyone’s dressing in period pieces.” She glances around at all of us. “They extended the invitation to us.”

“All of us?” Bess asks.

“All of us,” Marina nods. “Tinsley got the request this afternoon. Full Viking regalia encouraged.”

“I don’t have Viking regalia,” I point out. And thanks to Elodie, it’s about the one thing my closet lacks.

“The Queen’s Mall does costume rentals for theme nights,” Marina says. “Tinsley already reserved pieces for anyone who wants them.”

“Tinsley, being helpful?” I shake my head. “I’d check those costumes for itching powder before anyone commits to wool.”

Nettie sits up in a flash and nearly cracks her skull on the ceiling. “I get to dress like a Viking wench? For dinner? This is the best day of my life!”

“You got stuck in a cannon four hours ago,” Bess reminds her.

“And now I’m getting fur and a helmet. That’s called a redemption arc, Bess. Read a book.”

“If it helps, you already fit the bill for a wench,” Bess tells her. “You’re halfway to historical accuracy just sitting there.”

“And I’ll go the other half by dinner.” Nettie lifts her chin like she’s accepting a lifetime achievement award. “Expect leather. Expect lace. Expect fur in places fur has no business being. And horns, honey. For posterity.”

“This sounds like a good time,” Marina says with a laugh.

“This sounds like a disaster in the making,” Bess says, closing her eyes as though she can already see it unfolding.

Wes grins wide. “I’m in. When else am I going to get to wear a horned helmet?”

“Vikings didn’t actually wear horned helmets,” Ransom says.

“I don’t care. I’m wearing one anyway.”

I look at my husband, who’s already shaking his head at me. “Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m head of security. I have a certain dignity to maintain.”

“You’re coming to a Viking-themed dinner on a cruise ship. Dignity waved goodbye from the gangway a few continents ago.”

He sighs, and I can see him caving in real time. “Fine. But I’m not wearing a helmet.”

“We’ll see about that.” I give it until dessert.

Steam rises off the stones, and for a moment we’re simply six people in a sauna in Finland, laughing about Viking costumes and murder investigations and the general absurdity of our lives. Then Marina’s gaze drifts to the window, out to the lake beyond, and her smile fades by slow degrees until what’s left looks a lot like homesickness for a place she won’t name.

My heart squeezes for her. Whatever she’s carrying, I hope she figures out soon that she doesn’t have to carry it alone. She’s ours now, whether she’s realized it or not.

Wes sees it, too. His hand lifts an inch off the bench toward her before he catches himself and lets it settle.

“Invitation accepted,” I say, breaking the moment. “Let’s go dress like Vikings and catch a killer.”

Tonight’s the last night of the cruise, and somewhere on this ship, someone’s celebrating getting away with murder.

Well, I have news for them.

The party’s not over yet.

CHAPTER 20