Free Deadly Reunion by June Shaw Page B

bed, terrifying roaches.
    Satisfied with having tricked Gil, I considered the flirtatious looks he gave the curvaceous platinum blonde that he allowed to buy the artwork he’d almost bought for me. He’d given similar admiring glances to Sue.
    Disgruntled, I wondered how I might fix myself up to resemble them. I wasn’t jealous. Gil recently accused me of wearing a jealous streak. Never!
    What could I wear that might help me look better? Plastic surgery was out of the question. It couldn’t happen fast enough. I was too chicken anyway to have people cut me unless it was needed to save my life. I could easily have my hair colored but changed it often anyway, so much so I wasn’t sure what color it really was.
    I’d walked off of carpet and now strode across white ceramic, I realized by the clop-clop of heels on the harder floor. The louder sound made me also look at people’s shoes. Women’s shoes.
    Gil had been taken with those two attractive women who’d left the art auction. One thing that added to their bearing was their height. My five feet two inches would not make any male notice me next to women like that unless he was a little boy. Most females striding past me wore shoes with much height, even on flip-flops.
    That’s what I needed. Heels. High heels. With slender straps crossing my ankles.
    Exasperation came, and I slowed. A man just died on this ship—how horrible was that? And I was concerned about how I looked? His death was much more important. But as of this moment, I didn’t know what I could do about it.
    I stepped around a Watch Your Step sign, one of many posted today. Maybe other people had perished on this boat. Jonathan Mill may have died from natural causes, but he seemed so young. Jitters skittered around in my chest like Mexican jumping beans because of my true belief. Someone killed him.
    I needed to make certain that person was not someone I knew.
    Sweat dampened my palms. I swiped them across something black in front of me, then noticed it was a satin gown. The gown hung on a rod next to a tall vat holding a jillion jellybeans.
    “Can I help you?” The speaker was one of those spry young women in the ship’s uniform.
    I smiled, becoming fully aware that I’d detoured into the glass-fronted shop that sold formal wear. “This is a lovely gown. I don’t see a price tag.” I wasn’t interested in buying a gown but needed to comment.
    “This one’s been worn before. It’s a rental. You can rent formal items here, like for formal nights. We also have many items you can purchase.”
    This was my kind of store. I could rent clothes and not have to lug them around. The only problem was that the rental shop carried only formals. And lots of candy—especially fine chocolates—and flowers to send to someone special.
    I spent a few minutes inside and then left the shop with my purchase under my arm and a smirk draped on my face. Gil might like his women tall—although I did not care what he liked. Tonight the ship would hold its first formal night. I needed to get to my stateroom and practice walking. I might not be as striking as my aunt when our group promenaded this evening, but I refused to wear sparkles and have to take baby steps to keep up with them. Maybe I’d run into Gil during the evening, or I could run into a killer. Either way, I would present myself as a lethal figure in my brand new stilettos.

Chapter 8
    Back in my stateroom, I showered, shampooed with exotic-scented shampoo, and stepped on a rug to dry myself. Someone knocked on my door.
    I wrapped myself in a thick robe and checked the peephole.
    “Jane,” I said, letting her in. I glanced out, satisfied not to see Tetter so I could speak with Jane alone.
    “What time will you be ready? Maybe we can all have a drink together before dinner.” She skimmed my room. “This is so nice and roomy since you don’t have a roommate.” She rolled her eyes and sat on a cushioned side chair.
    “I’ve wanted to ask about