“Oh dear, that is a long time!” Aunt Julia, who had never been married, seemed horrified at the prospect of spending that long with someone.
“That’s why we’re on this cruise. It’s an anniversary gift from our children,” Beulah said.
“That’s very nice. How many do you have?”
Nora picked up the menu as she half-listened to the Entwhistles chatter on about their children. The menu was varied. Some standard southern dishes like gumbo and some more gourmet selections. The anchovy relish might be nice and an avocado salad to start. Then purée of pea soup, maybe a lamb chop—
“Well at least they have something normal like steak,” Percival piped in from beside her.
“I don’t know, we’re on the Mississippi, shouldn’t we have collard greens and chicken-fried steak? I hope there is shoofly pie for dessert.” Percival’s wife, Irene, peered over the top of the menu at him.
Percival shut his menu and started digging in his pockets. “Well, whatever it is, I hope they come and take our order soon. How long is this confounded thing going to go on for anyway? Where in the world did I put my pocket watch?”
As Percival became more agitated, Irene put a hand on his arm. “Now, dear, you probably left it on the dresser.”
Percival huffed, air moving his white mustache. “I did not leave it on the dresser!”
“You have been a little forgetful lately, Percy,” Irene persisted.
Beulah leaned across the table. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about at our age. I’m always forgetting things. Isn’t that right, Harold?”
Harold nodded.
Percival scowled and patted down his pockets again. “I just had the darn thing at the reception earlier and I am not senile. I used to be a respected doctor!”
Several people at the next table looked around at his loud proclamation and everyone sat there awkwardly for a few beats.
Aunt Julia broke the silence. “Has anyone read any good books lately? I’m reading the latest Ridley Howes mystery and it’s quite thrilling. Do any of you read him? He’s simply brilliant!”
Nora snorted and held her napkin to her mouth to cover it up. To everyone else the question probably sounded like casual small talk, but Nora knew it was a way for her aunt to get praise for her books. She supposed she deserved it: Julia put a lot of work into the books and it grated on her not to be able to take credit.
“I do enjoy the books, but I thought the one before was a bit preposterous,” Beulah Entwhistle said, before giving her order to the waitress.
“Preposterous?” Aunt Julia was offended. “How so? I’ll have the sliced tomato salad, clam broth and prime rib.” Julia handed the menu over and the waitress continued to take orders.
Beulah leaned in. “It was the poison. I mean, how would one have access to so many different poisons? And would natural ones really be strong enough to kill?”
“Oh, you’d be surprised.” Aunt Julia launched into an explanation of how the most innocent looking of plants can be poison, going into great detail about the various varieties to look out for. Beulah’s eyes started to glaze over but thankfully dinner came before she zoned out completely. They tucked in and all mention of poisonings ceased.
The meal was as delicious as Giles promised it would be. Once the plates were cleared and coffee was on the table, Delilah Dove came out in a black gown glittering with an impossible number of rhinestones.
Aunt Julia leaned over. “That gown must weigh twenty pounds.”
Nora nodded, though it didn’t seem to impede Delilah’s movements as she swirled gracefully from table to table. There were two singers accompanying her, but they blended into the background with their nondescript black dresses, plain black shoes and lack of jewelry, especially in contrast to Delilah’s sparkling ensemble. Nora recognized one of them as Lily Sumner, who they’d met in Delilah’s dressing room earlier.
Clifford Oxley stood by the door that led backstage, overseeing the entire thing. Norah had the fleeting thought that maybe he was trying to make sure that she and Aunt Julia didn’t try to sneak back there again, but as he watched Delilah sing, the scowl on his face turned sweet. Maybe Delilah brought out the best in him.
Nora took the opportunity to study the crowd. Most were enraptured by Delilah’s performance. Not Beau Hinchcliffe, though. He squirmed in his seat, probably counting the minutes before he could to get away from “mother” and back to his beautiful wife. Johnny Stokes managed to sit upright in his chair the entire time. Had he been drunk at the reception? And what had Aunt Julia been drinking?
When the music turned to a faster pace, Stokes got up to dance, which he did effortlessly with no evidence of his prior stumbling… until he tripped over a chair and almost landed in someone’s lap. Perhaps he was just clumsy.
Nora loved dancing, so when a gentleman came to ask her to dance she was eager to get up on the floor. The band was good and the music lively and she discovered that dance partners were in good supply. She must have danced with every single man in the room. Not Max Lawton, though, he had left right after dinner. Perhaps he hadn’t been looking for Delilah after all because he didn’t stay for her singing. Nora had heard from one of her dance partners that there was a poker game in the forward salon. Maybe Max hadn’t been watching the door at all and had simply been waiting for the game to start. Nora chided herself for imagining all sort of suspicious motives. She was getting as bad as Aunt Julia.
The night was filled with friendly conversation and dancing. Nora was exhausted and when she finally collapsed into bed at midnight she fell into a deep sleep. Which was why it was so startling when she was awakened by a scream two hours later.
Chapter Five
June 13, 1926
Nora leapt out of bed and fumbled for her robe as she tried to get her bearings. It took a few seconds. She bolted for the door, her bathrobe fluttering behind her as she tried to shove her arms into the sleeves. Her first thought was to make sure Aunt Julia, who had the room next door, was okay.
Aunt Julia was looking into the hallway herself and, upon seeing Nora, she stepped out. She was wearing silk embroidered slippers and a thick robe over her nightgown. As they stood there trying to figure out where the scream had come from, cabin doors opened and passengers popped out their heads. One of those was Dr. Montford, another Beau Hinchcliffe.
Nora’s suspicious nature and training in human behavior had her studying them. They were both wearing nightclothes. Had they been roused from sleep? She thought Beau had, given the way he was rubbing his eyes. Dr. Montford’s hair, though, was perfectly combed, his eyes alert as if he’d been awake.
Heavy footsteps pounded on the metal stairs. A man appeared on his way to the sun deck above. “It came from up there! Hurry!”
They followed him up the stairs, which were placed in the middle of the deck. To the right was the pilot house; to the left a small crowd had gathered at the railing above the paddle wheel. The boat shuddered as it slowed. Two men hopped over the safety railing that Giles had warned Aunt Julia to be careful near earlier. One of those men was Max Lawton, the other a gentleman named Gus, who Nora had danced with.
Nora elbowed her way up to the railing and looked down. The paddle wheel was making its last turn, dredging up a mass of turquoise chiffon made almost transparent by the water. A hand, its red lacquered fingernails a contrast to the pale white skin, stuck up from a bejeweled cuff. It was the dress Delilah Dove had worn for her last number.