Aunt Julia must have been on the same page. “Or wouldn’t break things off with a current boyfriend.”
“I suppose we can’t assume the killer was on the scene when we were.”
“No, that’s a toss-up. Our best bet is to observe the suspects and see if any of them act out of character. You always say that’s the way to discover a person’s inner secrets. And if you ask me…” Aunt Julia tapped the paper with her pen. “Some of these suspects have big secrets.”
“Doesn’t everyone.” Nora glanced at the pile of Ridley Howes novels on Aunt Julia’s nightstand.
Julia stood up and put on her jacket. It was a smart gray tailored piece that matched her skirt. She looked very stylish today. “Let’s get down to breakfast. The room will be abuzz and we might glean something important. And perhaps one of our suspects will give themselves away.”
Chapter Seven
Clifford Oxley carefully piled old theater props on top of what he’d just put into the trunk and closed the lid, glancing over his shoulder nervously. He didn’t need to look because no one would be in here. The room was off limits and everyone knew that. No one would have seen him putting anything into the trunk, and even if they had they would never find what it was he had put in. Unless they inspected it very, very closely. If anyone did that, it could mean disaster for him.
His task done, he hurried to the door. Breakfast was already starting and he should show his face. Though it might not look odd for him to stay in his room so soon after Delilah’s death, he’d already been seen about the ship and he wanted to make an appearance so no one would start looking at him too closely. It wouldn’t be hard to act like he was upset—he really was broken up about Delilah’s death.
Backing out of the room, he locked the door with the key he kept around his neck, checked it twice then took a deep breath, turned and—
“Oh, sorry! I didn’t see you there.” Lily Sumner was standing right in front of him. What was she doing creeping around down here? “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” She shuffled her feet and glanced nervously down the hallway. Had she been watching him? What was she doing near the room? Did she suspect…?
“Can I help you?” Clifford asked.
“Yes, well. First, I wanted to say how sorry I am about Delilah. I mean, I know you two were close and…” She let her voice trail off as she studied him.
She was a wily one. Clifford had seen her nosing around. What was she up to? Blackmail? Surely he was imagining things; the girl simply wanted to give her condolences. The mention of Delilah’s name brought real tears to his eyes.
“Thank you so much. She will be missed.”
“Yes, she will. Terrible accident.”
Clifford expected Lily to move away but she stood there as if she wanted something more. He rubbed his eyes and sniffed. Couldn’t the girl see he was distraught? Why didn’t she just move on? He didn’t want to be rude. If she had been watching him, then she might know something about what he was up to and it wouldn’t be smart to make an enemy of her. But it would be very smart to get her on his side. And the best way to get people on your side is to give them something they want.
Oxley took a deep, shaky breath. “Say, Lily, I was thinking… well… I know no one can replace Delilah, but we still need someone to sing at dinner here.”
Lily’s eyes brightened. “Yes, I understand. The show must go on.”
“Indeed it must. I was wondering if you would take that role.”
Lily looked away but not before Oxley caught the excitement in her eyes. He’d hit the mark: the lead-singer role was exactly what would get her on his side. “Unless, of course, you’re not ready…”
“Oh, I’m ready. I just wasn’t sure… I mean, it’s so soon.”
Was it too soon? Would it appear insensitive if he replaced Delilah? No, of course not. “It seems insensitive but the guests have paid for entertainment and the only other person that could do it is Joy.”
“Oh no, Joy said she’s not interested in the lead-singer role,” Lily said quickly.
Oxley wondered if that was true or if Lily was afraid he might renege and offer it to Joy. Clifford really didn’t care which one of them sang the lead—he had more important things to worry about—but Lily was up to something and he wanted her to feel as if she owed him just in case that “something” could get him in trouble. “Well, then you’re the only one who can do it. I’m depending on you to save the day.”
Lily took a deep breath and straightened. “Of course. You can count on me.”
Perfect. “Okay then, I guess it’s settled.” Lily would work out very nicely. She had a great voice and was about Delilah’s size. She would fit in the dresses and people always liked blondes.
“Great. I’m ready for this. You won’t be sorry.” Lily beamed, clearly happy with her new role.
“I’m sure I won’t.” Clifford brushed past her and hurried down the hallway, casting one final sad glance at Delilah’s dressing-room door as he passed.
Lily smiled as she watched Clifford Oxley glance into Delilah’s dressing room. Soon to be her dressing room. That had been easy. Oxley was clearly distraught and she’d hit him at the right time with the right amount of humility.
Delilah’s misfortune had given Lily a chance. It did seem a bit ghoulish to take advantage of someone’s death, but Lily’s grandmother had always told her that when opportunity knocked, you better answer.
It had been easy to get Oxley to offer her the role, too. All she’d had to do was act like she knew he had a secret. Of course she had suspected for some time that he was hiding something. It was always good to find out people’s little indiscretions: you never knew when that knowledge would come in handy. Like Joy’s nightly excursions. Knowing about those had been the perfect bargaining chip to get her to back off from wanting the lead-singer position. It wasn’t exactly blackmail. Just good business.
Lily stood in front of the dressing-room door and ran her finger over the star. Would this become her dressing room right away? What about all of Delilah’s things? She supposed they would be packed up and shipped off to her family. For now she’d be happy with being able to take over the lead singing and wear the dresses. She knew they would fit with minor adjustments; she’d tried one on once when they were at port and Delilah had gone ashore.
She turned, looking at the door Oxley had come out of. He had seemed a bit preoccupied. He’d made it clear that room was off limits. Apparently it was some sort of storage for the entertainment and visual-arts portion of the ship. It held decorations, costumes, paintings that they hung on the walls around the ship. Anything that added to the ambiance was stored in there. She supposed that was why it was locked up… some people would steal anything that wasn’t nailed down.
But why was Oxley so concerned about it? Surely he didn’t want anything stolen but it wasn’t like he would be blamed. No, Clifford Oxley was up to something, which was good news for her. She could use that to keep him in line. He didn’t need to know that she was unaware of the specifics, in her experience just hinting that you knew was enough. Then again, maybe she should leave well enough alone—she’d seen the murderous look in his eye when she’d stumbled upon an argument between him and Delilah. And, of course, he could always fire her, but if he thought she knew exactly what he was up to, he might want to keep her happy so she wouldn’t tell.