Cruising for Murder: Myrtle Clover #10

Chapter Seven

 "She doesn't sound particularly heartbroken, does she?" mused Myrtle.

"She's a very matter-of-fact person," said Miles. "And rather a flirtatious one, too." He carefully poured the remainder of his coffee cup's contents over the side of the ship.

"Miles! Ditching your coffee after all your nursing of it?" asked Myrtle incredulously.

"Now it's too cold to drink," said Miles. "Which is understandable, considering your lips are turning a very distinct color of blue. And I doubt that's the shade of your lipstick."

"All right, all right, we're heading back inside. But, really, Miles. You sound like Goldilocks with all this 'too hot and too cold' nonsense."

They walked back into the ship and to their saved spots. A couple of passengers who were standing around and trying to peer out the windows gave them baleful looks for the reserved seats.

"Our popularity soars," murmured Miles.

"They're just jealous! Let them get up at dawn and save seats if they want the best view," said Myrtle.

"Is there even a dawn when it's light all night?" asked Miles.

Before Myrtle could respond with her thoughts on the issue, she noticed that a birdlike woman with bright blue eyes was approaching them with great determination. "Do you know this woman, Miles?" she muttered.

"No. Should I?" asked Miles.

"She sure seems to know us," said Myrtle. "And I have a bad feeling about it. I somehow sense Red's interference."

"You're being silly. She's probably going to ask us where the restrooms are or something," said Miles. "You always seem to suspect poor Red."

"For good reason," said Myrtle with a sniff.

The small woman said in a triumphant voice, "You must be Myrtle Clover!"

"My fame precedes me, I see," said Myrtle dryly. "Or have we met?"

"Your son described you to me in such vivid detail that I knew you on the spot," said the woman.

Myrtle shot Miles a look and he shrugged.

"I won't ask what adjectives Red used to describe me," drawled Myrtle. "You needed to find me for some reason?"

"Yes. Your son says that you're quite the experienced reader. And a teacher, I believe, right?" asked the woman. "I'm Violet, by the way."

"I suppose once a teacher, always a teacher," said Myrtle with a sigh. "Is there something that you needed taught? I'm on vacation, you see."