Red may have been expressing condolences, but his gaze was sliding thoughtfully from one face to another, searching for a reaction.

Myrtle was searching, too. What she noticed was that no one had much of a reaction at all to this news. It was almost as if they'd just been notified that the kitchen was out of salmon and they'd have to change their order at a restaurant.

The only one of the group who seemed to have any sort of a reaction at all was Bettina. She shook her head and said, "That poor child."

Terrell said petulantly, "Well, and now what happens to all that money and property? Surely Eugenia doesn't have a will. How stupid this all is."

Bettina's voice was sharp in response. "Respect for the dead, Terrell."

Maisy asked politely, as if she were a child who had just remembered her manners, "What happened to Eugenia? Did she ... well, was there some sort of medical event?"

"Did she drown?" asked Randolph, frowning. "Too much to drink and then fell asleep?"

Terrell snorted. "That little mouse, drink? I never saw her drink."

"So now she's a mouse?" asked Maisy with a hard note in her voice. "You've been saying for the last couple of days that she was a schemer."

Red said carefully, "You're right. She didn't appear to have been drinking. She appeared to have been strangled."

The faces were all still blank, although Bettina put her well-manicured hands in front of her mouth.

"What on earth was she doing in a hot tub anyway?" blustered Terrell. "That hardly seems the kind of place she would go."

"Perhaps she was trying to pick someone up," said Randolph with a slight smile on his lips. "After all, she'd just become an heiress."

Miles cleared his throat. "Actually, Myrtle and I can likely offer some insight on that. We spent some time with Eugenia in Haines. She had either pulled a muscle or overworked one somehow. We recommended that she might want to use the hot tub as therapy for it."

"How sad that someone took advantage of that opportunity," said Myrtle, giving them all a hard look.

Red said, "You're all free to be on your way, but I'll be wanting to talk to each of you in the next couple of days."

Maisy said in an angry tone, "It's unbelievable that the ship isn't doing anything about this."

"I agree, but that's just not the way it works on the sea," said Red smoothly. "The security man they have is out of commission and wouldn't be launching much of an investigation even if he weren't."

The family dispersed, muttering to themselves as Myrtle, Miles, and Red looked thoughtfully after them. Red said, "Mama, you need to really watch your step. You made it sound as if you and Eugenia have been hanging out. If someone killed Eugenia because of what she knew, they might well think that you know the same information she did."

Myrtle said huffily, "Maybe Eugenia wasn't killed because of what she knew. Maybe she was killed because it looked as if she were going to inherit all of Celeste's money."

"If that was the reason someone murdered her, it was a completely ignorant decision. The money would go into probate and much of it would be used up by the courts. And who knows—maybe Eugenia was forward-thinking enough to create her own will. No, I suspect that it had more to do with Eugenia's proximity to her aunt. She would have been best positioned to see someone going into or out of her aunt's stateroom."

"I wonder when it happened?" said Myrtle. "I really feel sorry for the girl. She had a chance at a little freedom and it was immediately taken from her."

"I don't know. That's the problem with being on a ship and not having a forensic team to call on. And the hot tub obviously interfered with her body temperature so even if she had been dead for a while, I wouldn't have been able to tell. But common sense tells me that she couldn't have been there too long before she was discovered. There are too many people on the ship and the hot tubs are popular." Red looked at Miles. "Miles, can you make sure my mother spends the rest of the day in a complete waste of her time? Maybe watching a movie or her soap opera or playing bridge?"

Miles said, "I'll do my best."

Red said, "And Mama, I saw those blasted gnomes. I know you're not happy with me. I'm just trying to keep you safe, that's all."

Myrtle bared her teeth in a smile. "Red, you have nothing to worry about. I've no desire to court danger, believe me."

But it was clear, looking into Red's skeptical eyes, that he didn't.

As a matter of fact, Miles and Myrtle did spend the rest of the day quietly. But that was mainly due to the fact that Celeste's family had decided to spend their day in their rooms instead of out on the ship. Myrtle and Miles went to the ship library and read for a while with the beautiful scenery as a backdrop through the windows.

But the next morning, Myrtle was ready to talk to some suspects. Early the next morning. Since she'd had such a quiet day and had turned in so early the night before, she was wide awake at four a.m. Myrtle lay in bed for a little while to see if she could fall back asleep before giving up completely. She got up, showered, dressed, worked on the Bradley Bugle article, and decided to walk around the ship. Maybe Miles hadn't been able to sleep either and she'd see him wandering, too. The only problem with the ship was that she couldn't walk by his room to see if his lights were on the way she could at home.

Myrtle walked down a long hallway of wall-to-wall red carpet with chairs scattered to the sides. One of those chairs had a male figure in them and as she got closer, she saw that it was Randolph. As a bonus, he even appeared to be sober. He glanced up as she approached and gave her a small wave. She sat down across from him.

"You're up very early," she said. "I didn't expect to see anyone yet."

Randolph gave her a small smile. "I'm not up very early, I'm turning in very late. I haven't gone to bed yet."

And indeed, on closer inspection, Myrtle noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that his clothes were a lot more wrinkled than they would be for someone who'd just gotten dressed. Although he still appeared as handsome as ever. It was unfair how well some men aged, thought Myrtle for the hundredth time.

Myrtle said, "Is that normal for you, or was it just the upsetting events from yesterday?"

"Both. It can certainly be normal, but it was a lot more likely that I would have been feeling really anxious after what happened to Eugenia," said Randolph. He sighed and looked morosely out the window next to him. "This constant daylight probably isn't helping things, either."

"I don't know," said Myrtle lightly, "I rather like having daylight when I'm up at odd hours. It makes me feel as though I'm not the only person on the planet who isn't sleeping." They both looked out the window at a bear they could see loping around the shore. Myrtle decided to warm Randolph up a bit with some easy questions. "You and Celeste seemed very different to me. How did the two of you meet?"

"Did we seem different?" asked Randolph. "I suppose we were. I think we both liked having fun. That may have been the main thing that we had in common. Celeste and I met in Las Vegas. I was gambling at the tables there and we hit it off. Actually, we hit it off enough for us to marry there."

"Really?" asked Myrtle, astounded. "I thought that Celeste didn't seem the type to head off to Las Vegas. Didn't she want Maisy to dress modestly and all that?"

"Oh, that's just because she'd convinced Maisy that she wasn't attractive enough to play up her assets," said Randolph. "As for Celeste heading off to Vegas? I don't think that was something she ordinarily did, no. But that momentary impulse was fate, I suppose."

Myrtle nodded. Her voice grew more serious as she said, "I'm worried, Randolph. Whoever is behind these murders is very dangerous. They've killed twice and gotten away with it—what's to stop them from killing again? I mean to find out who's behind these deaths."

Randolph turned to face her again, a bit of grudging respect in his eyes. "All right. I suppose you have questions for me then, is that it? I've already spoken to your son. He also seems quite determined to figure this out."

Myrtle nodded. "He probably told you that he doesn't have a very clear idea when Eugenia might have died. When did you last see her? Miles and I actually saw her in Haines for a bit at a bald eagle exhibit, but I haven't seen her since then." She gave Randolph a hard look, remembering how he'd glanced away at the mention of Eugenia earlier.

Randolph cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I'm not very good at keeping track of all the various people in our party."

Myrtle said, "No? I could have sworn that you knew something about Eugenia before Red broke the news of her death."

"How imaginative you are," said Randolph coolly. "And what a delightful trait for one of our seniors."

This annoyed Myrtle since she considered Randolph a senior, himself. Maybe not nearly as senior as Myrtle, but certainly a recipient of a discount whenever he went shopping. She said sharply, "And how evasive you are. Back to the original question: when was the last time you saw Eugenia?"

Randolph sighed and looked away. "Unfortunately, it all runs together. The drinking, you know. I really should stop. But it's so much harder to stop than you'd think, and it never seems to be a good time. There always seems to be some sort of stressful event going on. Like this interview."

"So you don't remember the last time you saw Eugenia. Can you at least offer an opinion on who might have wanted to kill her?" asked Myrtle.

Randolph, still looking out the window, said, "Oh look! A whale. Extraordinary creatures." He paused to watch it for a moment and Myrtle allowed the silence to grow uncomfortable until Randolph said, "Honestly, it's hard for me to imagine who would want to kill that little Pollyanna. Eugenia was always such a cheerful helper for Celeste. Maybe we all despised her happy disposition and optimism since none of the rest of us shared it. I'd say the person most likely to have killed her was Maisy. I believe it rankled Maisy the most that Eugenia was such an indispensable help to her mother."

Myrtle raised her eyebrows. "That's interesting. I'd gotten the impression that your wife wasn't particularly happy with Eugenia's care."

Randolph shrugged. "Celeste didn't suffer fools lightly. And Eugenia sometimes needed more instructions than Celeste thought was necessary. But did Celeste think that Eugenia was altogether more capable than her daughter? Most definitely."

"All right. But surely you're not suggesting that Maisy killed Eugenia because she was jealous of her?" said Myrtle.

"Why not? Although you're probably right—it would be more than just jealousy. It might also be the fact that Eugenia was inheriting all the money that we thought was going to us."

Myrtle said, "It's funny. Maisy suggested that you weren't particularly amused about the terms of Celeste's will. By the way, did you know that I found it? I'm good at that kind of thing."

"An unusual talent, to be sure. Amused by the will? No, I was highly annoyed by the will. It was just Celeste engaging in silly games, as usual, playing us all off of each other. I've no doubt that she changed her will in a fit of pique with every intention to change it back again once we started behaving ourselves. So, yes, the fact that Celeste died without having the chance to tear up the document was upsetting to me. I don't think that Eugenia deserved all of Celeste's estate and I've complained about it in Maisy's presence. But if I spoke out against Eugenia, Maisy was the hallelujah chorus. Believe me, she was unhappy with the arrangement, too."

Myrtle nodded. "Did you see Maisy or any of the family early yesterday morning or that night before?"

Randolph looked wearily at her. "What part of 'it all runs together' do you not understand? I've seen all of them out and about but I couldn't tell you when for the life of me." He stood up, with a great deal of effort. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I think it's time for me to turn in. I wouldn't want to miss ... where are we again today?"

Myrtle said, "Today is Ketchikan."

"Right. I wouldn't want to miss seeing Ketchikan." Although Randolph didn't sound so sure of that.

After talking with Randolph, Myrtle took a stroll around the ship. After that, she took her book out of her pocketbook to read until one of the restaurants opened for breakfast.

Miles joined her, looking like he badly needed the coffee in front of him.

"What happened to you?" asked Myrtle.

Miles said, "I just couldn't sleep. What a night."

"You should have gotten up. I was up very early having a conversation with Randolph," said Myrtle. She proceeded to fill him in.

Miles said, "So he thinks Maisy is responsible. I don't know. I'm not sure I can see her killing Eugenia. Maybe her mother, though. Honestly, the person with the strongest motive for Celeste's death was Eugenia. But I suppose she didn't do it."

"Unlikely. Although her motive is certainly strong," said Myrtle. She glanced at her watch. "What are your Ketchikan plans? I've forgotten."

"I'm to go salmon fishing," said Miles. "With any luck, I'll catch something."

"How is that supposed to work?" asked Myrtle. "Are you supposed to consume the thing right then and there on the boat? I can't see you lugging uncooked fish back in your suitcase or anything."

"No, they ship it home for me," said Miles. "For a fee."

"Sounds expensive."

Miles said, "What are you supposed to be doing in Ketchikan?"

"Taking in the fishing village and wildlife from a trolley bus. Totem poles, eagles, water features and whatnot. I didn't feel like walking it and I understand the sidewalks get crowded," said Myrtle. "Besides, I've already had a walk around the ship today. That's what happens when I've got insomnia—lots of exercise."

Miles was about to take another long sip of coffee, but abruptly set the coffee cup down and gave a fake smile to someone above Myrtle's shoulder. Myrtle turned and saw Bettina bearing a plate filled with eggs, bacon, sausage, and pancakes.

Bettina gave Myrtle a wink. "Nothing like being on vacation. The calories don't count on vacation, didn't you know? What are you two doing today?"

"Hi, Bettina," said Myrtle. "Want to sit with us?"

"I would, but I told Maisy I'd sit with her," said Bettina.

"To answer your question, I'm salmon fishing," said Miles.

Myrtle said, "And I'm on one of those trolley tours."

Bettina lifted her eyebrows. "Trolley tour? I'll be on that one with you. Great! I wasn't fancying sitting through a tour by myself. See you then. Ta-ta!" And she made her way off to find Maisy.

Miles said, "Why do I sense a grilling session ahead?"

"Oh, it won't be that bad for Bettina. I can ask her tons of questions in a purely conversational way. After all, it's completely natural that I'd be nosy—how often do murders happen?"

Miles said dryly, "I'd say they happen altogether too much."

"At any rate, I'll be very measured in my questioning. Bettina seems friendly. What's most important is, that she probably has lots of insights on these people since she's spent so much time around the family. Her perspective will be useful," said Myrtle.

"Nana!" called a little voice.

Myrtle reached out her arms and gave Jack a huge hug. "Jack! Have you had fun today?" She looked at a tired Elaine. "It looks like you've already had a long today and it's only breakfast."

Elaine nodded and carefully put their plates down on the table and sat down with Myrtle and Miles. "He was up early, so we walked around a little bit."

"I'm surprised I didn't see you," said Myrtle. "I did the same thing."

Red walked up in time to overhear them. "On a ship this big, it's pretty easy to avoid running into each other. Ask any of my suspects," he said in a wry voice.

Although Myrtle would have loved to press Red on this point, the conversation seemed to be going in more cruise-oriented patterns, courtesy of an always-polite Miles. "What are your plans for the day?" he asked Elaine.

Red, out of sight of Elaine, rolled his eyes at Miles and his mother.

Elaine said, "Oh, I'm so excited about today. You know those little flyers they put by our doors with the day's activities? There were some good ones on there. Red will hang out with Jack during his naptime and I'm going to the enrichment event onboard."

"You're not going into Ketchikan?" asked Myrtle.

"Only briefly—right after breakfast," said Elaine. "And then, after that, I'm going to make pottery."

Red looked pained. He'd had a lot of experience with Elaine's hobbies over the years. None of them ever turned out particularly well. Elaine had an adventurous spirit and longed for the creative life. Her talent, unfortunately, didn't accompany her longing.

Myrtle said, "Pottery? But surely there can't be a kiln onboard?"

"But there actually is," said Elaine excitedly. "According to the activity sheet, it's a 'seagoing kiln.' So we can 'throw pots', which is what the pros call it when you make them, then they fire them and we paint them. The class is in two parts—the making of the pot and the decorating of it later."

Elaine stopped chatting to help Jack cut up some fruit on his plate into a size that he could eat. Myrtle leaned over to Red. "You know what I think?"

"What?" murmured Red. "That this sounds nearly as disastrous as her knitting or her cross-stitch? Or her ill-fated attempt at being a ham radio operator?"

"Those pots sound awfully heavy. Like Jack's snow globe. But I don't hear you nixing the pottery class," said Myrtle.

Red said, "As if I could. You know how Elaine is when she sets her mind on something. At least I'm not having to lug home her pots and Jack's souvenir." He paused. "You did get rid of the thing, didn't you?"

"Of course," said Myrtle coolly, crossing her fingers under the table. Maybe the storekeepers in Ketchikan would be more open to the idea. She'd give it a go once she got off that trolley.