Cruising for Murder: Myrtle Clover #10

Chapter Eight

The next morning, Myrtle was finishing up lunch with Jack at the ship's largest buffet restaurant. Jack had lots of chicken fingers and Myrtle had indulged in salmon once more. "Oh look," said Myrtle to Jack. "There's Mr. Miles."

Jack peered thoughtfully at Miles as he slowly approached, carrying a plate of food. "Him tired," he said knowledgeably.

"I believe you're right, Jack," said Myrtle with a smile. To Miles she said, "Jack says you look tired. Was it really only seven miles, or did your guide get lost and make it longer?"

"Sadly, it was only seven miles. But it wasn't all flat. Or maybe I'm just completely out of shape. I'm going to be sore tomorrow, no doubt," said Miles, grimacing. He sat down next to Jack. "The bald eagles were beautiful, though. And it was so good to be on dry land." He squinted across the room and suddenly looked alarmed. "Oh no. It's that Violet."

"What? Surely her dreadful book club isn't starting today," said Myrtle.

"It's not as if there are unlimited days on the ship," reminded Miles.

"Have we been spotted?" asked Myrtle.

"I'm afraid so," said Miles. He looked panicky. "I don't think I can handle any fun books today."

Violet was upon them immediately. She said with concern, "Did you forget? The book discussion? It was only earlier this morning that I mentioned it, but with people our age .... "

Myrtle said emphatically, "I'm spending time with my grandson today and I don't think any of you would like to hear fun truck books, which is what you'd get as Jack's contribution."

Miles added hastily, "Myrtle and I checked our schedules and between excursions and helping with Jack, our schedule is completely full."

Violet frowned. "Is it? That's so odd. Red was sure that Myrtle's schedule, in particular, was free of excursions."

"He must have forgotten how busy I was," said Myrtle. "But thanks anyway."

As Violet walked away, Miles started breathing again. "A narrow escape."

"I think Red needs reminding that he's not my social secretary," said Myrtle, eyes narrowed.

"You don't exactly have your gnome collection with you," said Miles.

"I'll have to figure something out." Myrtle's mind was already in overdrive.

Miles pulled the acupressure band off his wrist and handed it to Myrtle. "By the way, do you want this? I don't think Celeste needs it anymore. And, after being on land, I think I've reset myself. I now officially have regained my sea legs. I'd rather not bring up my whole seasickness problem by trying to return the band to one of Celeste's offspring."

Myrtle slid the band into her purse. "If you're sure. I guess you know where to find me if it flares up again. I'm keeping mine on, at any rate. Why mess with success?"