Everyone turned in early that night after the long day of travel. Although Myrtle was usually plagued by terrible insomnia, she slept soundly with the ship rocking her to sleep like a baby. She did wake very early in the morning, though, and checked her watch, making a face. It was too early to even get a buffet breakfast. She decided to get ready for her day, dress, and explore the ship for a while before eating.

When she opened her cabin door, she smiled. It was a pleasure to walk out a door and not have to see if Erma were outside, stalking her. Even better, Miles was carefully closing the door to his stateroom so that it wouldn't make much noise for everyone still sleeping on their hall.

"Did you sleep?" asked Myrtle in a quiet voice. "And are you feeling well?"

"Surprisingly, I slept. And even more surprisingly, that woman's wristband seems to be doing some good. I was hoping for breakfast," said Miles as they walked down the long hall, made a sharp turn, and walked down another long hall.

"You'll have to keep on hoping because they don't open the buffet until seven. But the upside is that we'll probably be the only people there and don't have to wait in any lines. I want to go to that omelet maker and have an omelet with salmon in it," said Myrtle, a gleam in her eye.

"You're becoming fixated on salmon," murmured Miles. "Must be because of all the salmon-eating bears you saw."

"It's not like daily salmon is an option in Bradley. That's one reason I wanted to see bears. You don't see bears every day in Bradley, either. And thank heavens for that or else I'd have to put poor Pasha up in the house," said Myrtle.

"Hardly an option for a feral cat," said Miles. "What's our plan? We're not going to hover hungrily in the dining room watching them get the food ready, are we?"

"Certainly not. We'll tour our ship. I want to see all the different promenades. And maybe look out the window, too. It's broad daylight practically all the time here. Maybe we can see whales," said Myrtle.

The ship was tremendous and it took a while for them to see the dining rooms, the bars, the disco, the gym, the pool and hot tubs, casino, auditorium, and the basketball and tennis court.

"I might want a nap after this," said Miles.

"It's just fascinating to me," said Myrtle. "It's like a city on the sea."

"A city of sleeping people," said Miles. "I have a feeling a lot of these passengers stay up very late at night."

"There did seem to be a lot of hubbub out there last night," said Myrtle. "But I couldn't say that I was interested in anything but sleeping."

Miles nodded his head over to the left. "If you had, maybe you'd have ended up like that guy."

Myrtle looked over and made a face. There was an attractive older man around Miles's age in the piano bar. He was sound asleep in a very uncomfortable-looking position in a tall-backed armchair. His mouth was open in a snore and beside him on the floor was an empty glass with a red cocktail straw in it.

"Most definitely not like that," said Myrtle. "I have a feeling he overindulged."

As they watched, a thin, mousy-looking woman of around thirty wearing glasses too large for her face, came hurrying up to the older man. "Randolph!" she said urgently, pulling at the man's jacket sleeve. "You need to go back to the stateroom. Celeste is mad!"

Myrtle and Miles looked at each other with raised eyebrows. Surely that must be the same Celeste they'd met the day before.

The man blearily opened an eye, stared at the woman, and then allowed his eye to sag closed again. The younger woman yanked at his arm this time, pulling him up out of the armchair. But his weight was too much for her to bear and he dropped back down.

Miles, ever gallant, strode over. "Allow me to help you," he said politely. He heaved the man up by the arm and slung the arm across his shoulders. The woman stood on the man's other side and supported him there.

"Thank you so much," the woman said gratefully. "I don't think I could have gotten him back to my aunt's stateroom. And she's dreadfully mad at him. The longer he's away the angrier she'll be."

Myrtle, always interested in a story, said, "I'll follow along for moral support. I think we may have met your aunt yesterday. Celeste is an older woman, like me? And you're traveling in a fairly large group? I'm Myrtle, by the way, and this is my friend, Miles."

"I'm Eugenia," said the woman. "And yes, that sounds like Celeste. I'm her niece and this is Randolph, her husband."

Randolph groaned a bit at the sound of his name. Or perhaps he was groaning at the mention of Celeste.

"But you've got more in your party, don't you?" asked Miles. He was slightly breathless and sounded to Myrtle as if he were valiantly trying to conceal that fact.

"That's right. We've also got her son Terrell and daughter Maisy with us," said Eugenia.

Myrtle added, "And her friend, isn't that right? I can't remember the friend's name, but we were to play bridge this afternoon."

"Yes—Bettina. And that's most certainly Celeste you met if you were planning on playing bridge. But be careful. She's quite the card shark," said Eugenia with a slight smile on her face.

Myrtle said, "Celeste walked away without telling me what time I'm to be playing bridge with them."

"That sounds likely. She usually plays around three o'clock, so I'm guessing she'll try to keep to her schedule while she's traveling." Eugenia paused as Randolph sagged a bit and hefted him back up again.

Miles was now definitely winded. He wheezed to Randolph, "Look here. See if you can help us a little." There was no response from the man. Miles stopped and shook his burden a bit. "Look here!"

This prompted a slight reaction from Randolph. He opened his eyes, at least.

"Stand up," ordered Miles.

Randolph stood, weaving slightly in place. Miles and Eugenia each took an arm and they continued slowly down the hallway. Apparently, Celeste and Randolph were on the same deck as Myrtle and Miles, and along the same hallway.

Myrtle said, "So, Eugenia, are you just the best niece ever? I thought you said that Celeste had a daughter and a son along on this trip. Why aren't they helping?"

Eugenia flushed. "No, I'm not the best niece ever, I'm sure. But I live with my aunt and help her out. Sort of a companion, I guess. Like they had in the old days. Oh, here's the room. Thanks so much for your help." She fished Randolph's key card from his jacket pocket and managed to propel the man inside the stateroom. Celeste's angry voice could be heard just seconds later.

Miles said, "Let's hit the breakfast buffet before it gets busy. It opened a few minutes ago."

Myrtle nodded, walking thoughtfully. "You know, I don't think Miss Eugenia is a companion at all. I bet she's more like a servant."

"That's a leap, isn't it? We haven't even seen the two of them together," said Miles. He hit the button for the elevator.

"True. But really ... what kind of married woman has a companion? Shouldn't her husband be Celeste's companion?"

Miles said dryly, "If he's drunk or hungover all the time, maybe he isn't fit for companionship. Oh, look at the mat." He pointed to the floor of the elevator where the staff had thoughtfully laid a mat with the day of the week emblazoned on it.

"Nice reminder," admitted Myrtle. "This is a place where it's easy to lose track of time."

That afternoon, after having eaten both a tremendous breakfast and a tremendous lunch, Myrtle knocked on the door of Miles's cabin. "I need to do something very, very ordinary," she said in a serious voice.

Miles opened the door to let her in. "I was just watching Tomorrow's Promise and feeling a little guilty about watching TV on a cruise ship."

Myrtle settled onto the small sofa in the cabin. "Why should you feel guilty? We've had plenty of fun today. We toured the ship and I took lots of pictures for the Bradley Bugle exclusive. We looked obediently out the windows or portholes or whatever when someone on the intercom spotted wildlife outside. We've eaten salmon. At every meal today so far!"

"And dessert at each meal," said Miles thoughtfully. "Even a sugary snack. And a glass of wine upstairs after lunch."

"We have lived today! So if we want to decompress from the overwhelming amount of fun we've been having to watch a soap opera, we should do that. That's what vacation is all about," said Myrtle, thumping the sofa beside her to emphasize the point.

But they did both jump as if they were doing something to feel guilty over when there was a knock at the door.

It was Elaine with toddler Jack in tow. She beamed at them. "What a good idea to watch some TV! I think I'm going to have to turn on the set in a little while just to give Jack a chance to wind down some."

Jack ran over and Myrtle gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I saw you walk through when Miles and I were having a glass of wine after lunch."

"Walk?" asked Elaine wryly. "Or jog?"

"There might have been some fast walking involved," said Myrtle with a smile. "What have you two been doing so far?"

"Red and I are going to switch off in a little while and I'm to get a massage in the spa," said Elaine. The look on her face said that she was greatly anticipating this appointment. "While we're at sea and there are no excursions, I'm just trying to take advantage of what's available on the ship."

"A good tactic," mused Miles. "I could use one, myself. Maybe while Myrtle is playing bridge this afternoon."

"You've got a bridge partner? Already?" asked Elaine with a grin. "That's fast work."

"Oh, well. She seems to be a horrid harpy card shark, but I'm going to give it a go. Thought I'd try to have a quieter, less-extraordinary day today," said Myrtle. "And remember I can watch Jack for you and Red tonight so that you can have a nice dinner together. I'm just as happy to fill a plate at the buffet early and eat in the room. Jack and I can be couch potatoes together and watch some TV."

"That would be perfect. A perfect end to a great afternoon," said Elaine.

After Elaine and Jack left, Myrtle and Miles watched the rest of their show and then Myrtle headed off for bridge. Celeste was sitting with an attractive, tanned older woman who wore a lot of gold jewelry, while niece Eugenia hovered nearby. Myrtle supposed that the woman with the jewelry was the friend Celeste was traveling with.

As Myrtle approached, she saw that the man sitting at the table was the one that they'd helped to his stateroom that morning—Randolph. He glanced at her with absolutely no sign of recognition whatsoever. Considering his condition that morning, this was probably to be expected. He didn't look as though he felt all that well now.

Celeste barked at Myrtle, "There you are. Glad you finally made it. Needed one other person."

Myrtle raised her eyebrows and glanced pointedly at the group. "Did you? It looks like you've got a full foursome to me."

Celeste waved a bony hand in a dismissive way. "Not this group. Eugenia is pathetic at bridge. Randolph is so hungover that he's useless. My daughter is going to join us in a minute—she's got half a brain even though she's morally bankrupt."

Randolph snorted and then took a long sip from his glass. Myrtle observed that it appeared to be a cocktail. He saw the direction of her gaze and said laconically to her, "Hair of the dog."

"It's only hair of the dog when it's morning, you idiot!" snapped Celeste.

Randolph said, "Feels like morning." He stood up, staggering away with a muttered, "Restroom."

"You can see what I have to deal with," said Celeste. Like yesterday, her frame was lost in a pair of baggy polyester pants and top. She wore a shawl and a sour expression.

"It seems like a lot," agreed Myrtle. Randolph, at any rate, was completely unimpressive.

"Eugenia!" said Celeste, making the woman jump at the sharp tone.

"Yes? Sorry?" she asked.

"Can you chase down Maisy for me? Where is that girl? She was supposed to be here ten minutes ago," said Celeste.

Eugenia scurried away with Celeste barking after her, "Hurry! Faster!"

The woman with the gold jewelry gave Myrtle a broad smile that didn't quite meet her eyes. She held out a tanned hand to Myrtle for a surprisingly firm handshake. "I'm Bettina," she said. "A friend of Celeste's."

"How nice for you both to be able to travel together," said Myrtle.

"It's a lifesaver, that's what it is," muttered the unhappy Celeste. "Imagine if I'd had to be stuck with my family."

Bettina grinned at Celeste, but Myrtle noticed again that it didn't seem sincere. "At least you'd still have help. It's good to have help."

Celeste gave a hooting laugh. "Some help. Maisy is always running off somewhere and she's been dressed completely inappropriately since we got on the ship. Randolph is usually smashed and tumbling out of chairs. Terrell is equally useless—besides, he wants nothing to do with me."

"That's her son," explained Bettina to Myrtle. "True, but you'd still have Eugenia, who's worth more than all of them."

"Eugenia," said Celeste, "is poor as a church mouse. She's hardly helping me out of the goodness of her heart but because she's functioning as an employee. Plus, she's slow."

"She seemed to be scampering off pretty quickly to me," said Myrtle.

"No, I mean she's slow mentally. Not much of a companion," said Celeste.

Bettina snorted. "She's not slow, Celeste. For heaven's sake. She's just not quite as sharp as you are. Nobody is quite as sharp as you are." She turned to Myrtle and regarded her through heavily mascaraed lashes. "I hope you have your wits about you. Celeste is a card shark."

"Lies," muttered Celeste. She squinted off across the ship, looking for Eugenia and the errant Maisy.

Bettina leaned closer to Myrtle and said confidingly, "The thing is, Celeste is so clever that she gets bored. She likes to play games. That sort of thing."

"I'm going to look for them, myself," said Celeste darkly. "Be right back."

As Celeste stomped off, Myrtle said to Bettina, "What kind of games are you talking about? I'm assuming you're not talking about Monopoly and poker."

"Oh, I've no doubt she'll be in the casino, but mainly just to drag Randolph out of there. When he gets sloppy drunk, sometimes he feels lucky with the cards. Pity that he rarely is," said Bettina.

Myrtle said, "Celeste paid for this vacation for her whole family ... is that right?"

Bettina grinned at her, revealing a gleaming set of teeth. "I'm guessing you're referring to the fact that Celeste dresses like a peasant. It's true. She's always gone for a very understated look and I don't think she's ever really cared about her appearance. But yes, she's loaded. Believe me."

They turned at the sound of a loud argument taking place behind them. But was it really an argument if only one person was shouting? The person shouting was a plump, middle-aged woman with very blonde hair and too much makeup. Celeste was simply listening, leaning in on her cane with a cold hostility.

"I'm not playing bridge, Mother. I told you. I'm hanging out with Guy."

"Who is Guy?" asked Celeste, condescension dripping from her words.

"He's the person I've been seeing since we boarded the ship," said Maisy at increased volume as if her mother were hard of hearing. Which Celeste didn't appear to be at all.

Celeste was staring at Maisy as if she didn't even recognize her.

Bettina said in a gossipy voice under her breath, "Maisy doesn't ever behave like this. This is very, very defiant of her. She depends on Celeste for everything. And Celeste usually has her under her thumb."

Maisy certainly didn't appear to be under Celeste's thumb now. In fact, she was walking away from her mother as fast as she could. Maisy said loudly over her shoulder in a snarky tone, "Ask Terrell to play bridge! Or don't you want to disturb the delicate genius?"

Bettina winced. "Maisy is being ugly about her brother, but they usually get along. He's a physician."

Celeste came walking toward them quickly, cheeks red with anger. Bettina quickly assumed a casual position as if she and Myrtle had overheard nothing.

Celeste sat down with a thump. Eugenia, who'd been hovering nervously in the background as Maisy yelled at Celeste, clasped her hands together and looked even more anxious.

"Here," said Myrtle, "it's hardly the end of the world. We need one additional player. We can either use Eugenia," (Celeste made a face), "or I can run and get my friend, Miles, to participate. He's a very decent bridge player, although I thought he was going to have a massage during this time."

Celeste said, "I choose Miles."

Fortunately, Miles had found that the spa was completely booked up, as was apparently common during the 'at sea' days. He made a good fourth for the group and the anxious Eugenia was sent back to her stateroom.

Celeste said, "That was just an example of some of what I have to deal with. Maisy is completely worthless. Eugenia is nearly as worthless, although it's not for want of trying. My son is ungrateful. Randolph, my husband, is a total disaster."

Bettina grinned at Celeste after her litany of problems. "But you've got me."

"True," said Celeste with a small smile. But she had a cagey look in her eyes as she quickly changed the subject. "So, Myrtle, what do you do? You're old, so I'm assuming the answer is 'play bridge and watch TV?'"

"Certainly not! At least, not all the time," said Myrtle, annoyed. "I'm an amateur detective. I've solved quite a few murders in my hometown."

Celeste looked at her sharply. "Is that so?"

Miles cleared his throat. "I'll corroborate that. Myrtle seems to have a rare gift for crime fighting."