Free Title Wave by Lorna Barrett Page A

otherwise.”
    Millicent turned to the last of the panelists. “What do you think, Norma?”
    â€œI plead the fifth,” Norma said, giving the spectators an exaggerated wink and a smirk.
    The audience laughed as one, and again rewarded the author with applause.
    â€œLadies and gentlemen, there you have it,” Millicent said. “All five of our fabulous authors will be available to sign copies of their latest books in the second story of the
Celtic Lady
’s magnificent library. You may purchase books there or bring your personal copies with you.
    â€œIn conclusion, let’s give these Lethal Ladies of mystery a hand for their wonderful repartee.”
    The audience broke into thunderous applause.
    Tricia turned to her left once again but found that EM and Dori were no longer occupying the private box. For some reason, their absence seemed . . . well, not exactly sinister, but certainly unfriendly.
    EM was a much better known author than the ladies on the stage. Not that her books were better. In many ways, they weren’t. She’d just been lucky to find a wider audience. The truth was, Tricia enjoyed the books written by the authors who’d entertained that entire theater full of readers more than she had enjoyed any of EM’s books. EM’sstyle was stark; her characters devoid of any real warmth. But as the author herself seemed incapable of engendering that perception, it wasn’t surprising that empathy was lacking in her work.
    Lost in thought, Tricia hardly noticed that she was one of the last of the audience to leave the well-appointed theater. She sat in her comfortable seat and contemplated what she’d experienced during the last hour. There’d been an air of frivolity with an underlying current of tension.
    She wished she understood what it meant.

SIX
    Tricia left the ship’s theater, pondering Millicent’s last question and the answers the panel had given. She wasn’t sure she agreed that people got away with murder on a regular basis. At least, she hoped not.
    She opted out of going to the book signing and instead sought out her sister, whom she found in their stateroom, spread out on her loveseat with a pad and pen, and many pages of notes surrounding her.
    â€œSorry I didn’t make it down to the theater. Did I miss much?”
    Tricia took her usual seat on the loveseat across the way. “Everyone on the panel was charming and funny. One of the authors made a little joke about how every time EM Barstow has a new book out, her backlist takes up all the slots on the
Times
list.”
    â€œIt’s no joke. It happens all the time,” Angelica said.
    â€œEM was in the audience, although I can’t think why. Cozies aren’t her subgenre. Anyway, I saw her say something to Dori and then pointat the stage. I just hope she isn’t planning anything spiteful against the author.”
    â€œWhat could she do in retaliation?”
    â€œI don’t know. But I wouldn’t turn my back on that woman in a lighted room, let alone a dark alley.”
    â€œI’m sure you’re exaggerating.”
    â€œI hope so,” Tricia said.
    Angelica gathered up her papers, swung her legs off the loveseat, and set her notes on the coffee table. “The kitchen staff is giving a demonstration on making art from fruit. Wouldn’t you love to come with me and see it?”
    Angelica looked so hopeful that Tricia found she couldn’t say no. That said, she decided to bring her library book and e-reader along. If things got dull, she could always escape to another world.
    After a short hunt for Angelica’s shoes, they headed for the Garden Lounge, where the demonstration was to take place, and found that a large group of passengers had already assembled, seated in rows of chairs pulled from the room’s bistro tables and placed in front of a small raised platform that held a drum set and a bass fiddle. Tricia