The trolley tour was actually more entertaining than Myrtle thought it might be. The fishing village of Ketchikan was very picturesque, and the driver took them out into an equally scenic landscape away from town where eagles flew and waterfalls fell. Myrtle took a great number of pictures.

Not only was the tour entertaining, but Bettina was, too. She could tell a good joke and a good story. Nothing was said about the last few days on the ship as they took in the sights of Ketchikan.

At least, nothing was said until Myrtle brought it up.

"This is really a lovely tour," said Myrtle. "But then, I even enjoyed Juneau and it poured that day. What did you do when we were in Juneau?"

Myrtle thought Bettina's expression closed up just a bit. Juneau was, after all, the port where Eugenia met her fate. At some point, anyway.

Bettina said, "Well, with the rain and everything, I decided to stay on the ship. I'd wanted to do the tram ride thing, but I certainly wasn't going to get on it and not even have a view of Juneau by the end. I stayed in my room and caught up on my sleep."

"What did you think of Eugenia? Was she a nice girl?" asked Myrtle.

Bettina said, "Well, what was your impression of her?"

She seemed genuinely curious, so Myrtle took a few seconds to think it through. "I thought she was nice," said Myrtle. "That's sort of a weak word, but I think it fit her well. She seemed to try hard, and to be responsible. She didn't, maybe, seem like the greatest intellectual, but she was pleasant to be around."

Bettina nodded. "You don't think of her as someone who was deliberately scheming to have Celeste give her a fortune?"

"If she was, she was a much better actress than I'd have ever guessed," said Myrtle.

Bettina said, "I totally agree. I don't think she had the intellect to be able to sustain a show like that for years. Besides, no one could make Celeste do anything she didn't want to do. If she didn't want to give her money to Eugenia, there was no one on the planet who could make it happen."

Myrtle said slowly, "I also think Eugenia was observant."

Bettina narrowed her eyes. "You're saying that she saw something that may have gotten her killed?"

"It's an idea." Myrtle paused. "One thing Eugenia told me, somewhat under duress, is that you had played a prank on Celeste."

To Myrtle's surprise, Bettina flushed a mottled shade of red. "I'm afraid I did. It might not have been my most mature moment."

Myrtle said, "What Eugenia didn't tell me is why you'd done such a thing. She didn't even manage a wild guess. And playing childish pranks doesn't exactly fit into my view of you."

Bettina sighed. "No. No, it's not really something I'd ordinarily do. But Celeste was fond of playing games as I've mentioned before. She was really something of a student of human nature. She'd get bored and set up various conflicts or situations as almost a lab experiment to see how people would react."

"What kind of an experiment did she set up for you?" asked Myrtle.

Bettina pressed her lips together tightly for a few moments as she relived the experience. "I spotted a letter in Celeste's stateroom. When she saw me looking at it, Celeste told me, oh so casually, that she had been seeing the man I've been dating at home. Dazzling him with her money and telling him all sorts of stories about me."

Myrtle raised her eyebrows. "Why on earth would she do that? She's married."

"She always wanted to be the center of everyone's attention. Maybe she was jealous of the relationship that Jim and I were developing. Maybe she just didn't like seeing someone in a happier relationship than the one she had with Randolph. Whatever the reason, she decided to reach out to him. Apparently, they went to plays and movies and things together." The words seemed distasteful to Bettina and she winced after they came out of her mouth.

"That must have made you very upset with Celeste," said Myrtle.

"It did," said Bettina wryly, "But I didn't kill her. Instead, I did something far cattier. I ruined her evening dress that she was planning on wearing to the dressy night on the ship. Ink all over it. She didn't raise a hand to stop me, either. After I took my anger out on her dress, it was all over and done with. I don't harbor bad feelings. Life's too short." She stared pointedly out the window as if she would rather be talking about the landscape visible through the window of the trolley.

But Myrtle wasn't quite ready to let that happen yet. "Who do you think might have killed Eugenia? Did you hear or see anything unusual?"

"All I know is gut instinct. I don't have any real clues or proof at all. But I think Randolph has been acting particularly unstable. The drinking is out of control—much worse than it was at home. And he seems like he's up all hours of the night. It sure would have been easy for him to notice Eugenia out on her own and kill her."

Bettina seemed tired of the conversation and interrupted Myrtle before she could respond positively or negatively to the idea of Randolph as the villain. "What's your friend doing today? Why isn't he on the trolley with you?"

"Oh, Miles wanted to do some salmon fishing. He thinks he's going to catch a bunch of fish and then ship them back home," said Myrtle.

"He's probably spending the day with Terrell then. I think Terrell had a salmon fishing excursion today. They probably both fancy themselves Hemingway, and the sad truth is that they may not get any bites at all." Bettina gave a short laugh and then her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she considered Myrtle. "How long have you and Miles been a couple then?"

"A couple of what? Friends? Oh, it's been a while now," Myrtle shrugged.

"No, I mean a couple. In a relationship. You must have had a lot in common with Celeste for you both to have such young consorts." Bettina smirked.

"What? For heaven's sake. Miles and I are simply good friends. We have adventures together, do book club, watch TV. Friends." Myrtle put a slight stress on friends.

"He's retired, isn't he? What was his former occupation?"

Myrtle said, "Oh, he was an architect or some such."

"He's rather well-off then?" Bettina asked.

"I'd say he's comfortable," said Myrtle. She was now feeling quite annoyed.

Now Bettina had a cunning look in her eye. "So you're saying he's available. Good to know. He's a nice-looking man, you know."

Myrtle sniffed. "Perhaps. If one likes the quiet, intellectual type." Her tone implied that Bettina was neither quiet nor intellectual and should perhaps consider pursuing other options for her shipboard romance. If Bettina were going to be hanging out with Myrtle and Miles and trying to snare him all the time, it was going to become very, very tiresome.

After the trolley ride, Myrtle boarded the ship and walked back to her stateroom. She had a lot to think about and she wanted to spend a little bit of time alone to do it. As she was heading to her small sofa, she noticed Jack's snow globe on the desk and made a face. She'd forgotten to take it into Ketchikan with her to try one last time to make a return at one of the shops. And at this point, she had no intention of going back into the town. She'd just stuff the thing in her suitcase later and surely it would make the trip home just fine.

Myrtle found, after sitting on her sofa for a while and considering the deaths of two people and the remaining suspects, that she would rather just watch her soap opera for a while. Life always seemed better when compared with catastrophic tragedies endured by the characters on Tomorrow's Promise.

Almost as if by design, there was a knock on her door right when the opening credits of the soap were running. It was Miles, appearing freshly showered and not at all fishy, holding two iced teas.

They watched the show together and found themselves laughing a lot more than they usually did. But the plot on the soap was especially wacky and it was especially hard to take the peculiar switched-at-birth story seriously.

When the show had finished, Myrtle felt a lot cheerier than she had been. Even Miles was cheerier, and he'd come in already in a good mood.

"How was the fishing?" asked Myrtle.

"I caught a few," said Miles. "And I ended up spending the day with Terrell in the process."

"Poor you," said Myrtle.

"It wasn't so bad," said Miles. "Perhaps you misjudged him."

"Or perhaps he's simply cheerier now that his mother isn't around to badger him anymore," said Myrtle. "And pooh. I'd wanted the chance to talk to him about Eugenia's death."

"You can do that in an hour with me, if you want to. He and I are going to have a drink together and talk fishing. You're welcome to come along. In fact, I had a feeling that you'd insist on coming along," said Miles.

"I'm guessing this means that you didn't question him at all on Eugenia's unfortunate demise," said Myrtle.

"You guess correctly. My questioning went more along the lines of inquiries related to his usual fishing holes and his favorite lures," said Miles.

Myrtle said, "Speaking of questioning, I did talk to Bettina on the trolley."

"I had a feeling that might be the case. How did that go? It couldn't have been too bad. I can think of other members of that group that would be a lot worse to take a trolley ride with. Bettina seems all right." Miles reached for his iced tea and took a big sip.

Myrtle said, "Bettina will be pleased to hear that. Part of our conversation involved her plans to ensnare you in her web."

Miles choked on his tea and Myrtle pounded him unsympathetically on the back.

Miles finally managed in a gasping voice, "Myrtle, you must deliver me from Bettina."

"It's a big ship. I'm sure you can manage to avoid her. Your compliment wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement of her so I'm assuming you won't be missing out on a meaningful romance," said Myrtle.

Miles made a face. Then he said thoughtfully, "Speaking of avoiding her, that reminds me that Terrell said something similar."

Myrtle raised her eyebrows. "Terrell is trying to avoid her? She must be a panther."

Miles considered this for a moment. "I believe you must mean cougar. And no, I didn't mean that Terrell was avoiding Bettina. He was avoiding Eugenia."

"What? Eugenia?"

Miles said, "Yes. He seemed to think that she might have had some kind of a crush on him."

"On Terrell? I suppose there's no accounting for taste. He has the personality of that wall over there," said Myrtle. "At least I'll have something else to ask him about. Glad you mentioned it. I know you didn't ask about the murder, but just in general, what kind of opinion do you have of him?"

Miles said, "Well, his fishing stories were fairly unbelievable. But then, they're fish stories. That's sort of to be expected for the genre."

"Hmm. That makes sense for fishing, but I don't think that's the only point where he might embellish his abilities. There was his poor crossword puzzle performance to consider."

Miles nodded solemnly. He took crosswords nearly as seriously as Myrtle. "You think he might be lying about other things?"

"Once a liar, always a liar," said Myrtle. "I saw plenty of that when I was teaching school. With some kids you couldn't believe a word they said."

An hour later at the bar near the ship library, they saw Terrell sitting at a table with a full cocktail in front of him as he worked on a crossword.

"At least he doesn't drink like Randolph," murmured Myrtle.

Terrell stood up when they approached, but he didn't look any too pleased to see Myrtle there.

"You don't mind if my friend, Myrtle, joins us, do you?" asked Miles in a mild voice.

Terrell clearly did mind but wasn't about to say anything. He gave a stiff nod and then gestured to them as a waiter approached their table.

Myrtle said, "I'll have a Blonde Dubonnet, please."

"Gin and tonic," said Miles to the waiter.

The waiter nodded and hurried away.

Myrtle attempted a softball approach to conversation with Terrell. "I hear the fish were biting today?"

"Yes. Yes, indeed they were. A decent catch, wouldn't you say, Miles?" said Terrell.

"I was pleased with it," said Miles. "It will be nice to have some salmon at home to remind me of the trip."

Terrell nodded and then returned to his crossword, clearly indicating that it was a good deal more interesting than his current companions.

Myrtle was scrounging for conversational topics, but came up with nothing. She opened her eyes wide at Miles to say that he needed to come up with some sort of small talk.

Miles cleared his throat and said, with some effort, "The weather is rather nice today, isn't it? So good to see the sun. Much better than Juneau, wouldn't you say?"

Terrell grunted. Myrtle sighed.

Fortunately for them, the waiter arrived with their drinks. Even more fortunately, a middle-aged woman with attractive features and a nice smile approached their table. Her effect on Terrell was like night and day. He immediately stumbled to his feet. Miles, always the gentleman, rose too.

"Donnice!" Terrell gasped. Pearls of perspiration beaded his forehead.

The woman beamed at him. "Hi, Terrell." Donnice glanced shyly at Myrtle and Miles and held out her hand to both of them for a handshake. "So good to meet you," she said. To Terrell, she said, "Shall we meet after my excursion? For dinner?"

Terrell stammered out a positive response, gaping at her.

"Wonderful," she said, a dimple flashing as she smiled. "It's nice to have something to look forward to."

As Donnice left, Myrtle marveled at the change in Terrell's overall demeanor and mood. He sat up a bit straighter, smiled more, and seemed confident and relaxed. Myrtle and Miles raised their eyebrows at each other. Their conversation appeared to have reached a turning point.

Terrell immediately became more animated. He demonstrated his catches to Myrtle with what sounded like a minimum of hyperbole. He seized on the topic of the weather with renewed enthusiasm as he pondered on the at-sea day they had tomorrow and how the weather would be for it. And he even, finally, broached the topic of Eugenia.

"Was there any mention of a memorial service for Eugenia?" he asked. "From the ship's chaplain, I mean. He was the one who organized it the last time. For, uh, Mother. I wanted to make sure to make it to a service, but my schedule appears to be filling up faster than it had earlier in the trip." He blushed again.

The blushes made him look a good deal younger and more vulnerable. Myrtle wondered how much romantic experience he actually possessed. It certainly appeared to be very little. But if his mother had orchestrated his courtship to his ex-wife, he could have skipped the whole courtship process the first time around.

Terrell had looked at Miles when he asked the question. Miles said, "Not that I've heard, but I would only have heard through the grapevine. Maybe Bettina or someone would be a better person to ask." Miles shifted uneasily as he said Bettina's name. He never enjoyed being pursued.

Myrtle said, "I'm sure the chaplain is putting something together—it will likely be during tomorrow's at-sea day."

"Good point. It would be perfect for a day with no excursions. I'll be sure to be there. The poor girl," said Terrell. He took a small sip of his beverage.

Myrtle said, "Poor girl indeed. Miles was saying that Eugenia had a crush on you."

Terrell gave a small nod. "I'm afraid so. It was nearly impossible to escape her sometimes. I felt that, no matter where I was, I'd look up, and there would be Eugenia staring all goo-goo eyed at me."

"Really? I wouldn't have imagined that were true at all," said Myrtle. "Every time that I saw her, she was waiting on your mother hand and foot."

"I wish that had been the case. It seemed to me as if she were around every corner, peering at me," said Terrell, a trace of the old grouchiness in his voice.

Myrtle wondered if Eugenia were peering around corners trying to make sure Terrell wasn't there. Maybe, instead of trying to stalk him, she was really trying to avoid him. She said, "When was the last time you saw Eugenia? We were trying to piece together a timeline to help us understand when she might have died. What were you doing last night?"

Terrell took a thoughtful sip of his drink. "Let's see. Last night I attended a lecture on the ship. If you haven't attended any of the series, they have experts in a variety of different fields that give talks on their area of expertise. Highly informative. This particular talk focused on civil service reform."

Miles, out of eyeshot of Terrell, rolled his eyes at Myrtle and took a generous sip from his gin and tonic. The lecture certainly didn't sound like much of a fun time to Myrtle, either.

"After the lecture, I happened on the young woman that you just met. Charming lady. Donnice." Here, Terrell blushed again and pulled at his shirt collar. "She suggested that we have a drink together," he said in wonder. "So we did. Over by the piano bar, a very elegant spot I think and with excellent views. Lots of wildlife traipsing by the window and such."

Myrtle said, "And no Randolph there to ruin the mood? The piano bar area seems to be a favorite haunt of his."

Terrell made a face. "Fortunately, no Randolph was present. I suppose he'd stumbled off somewhere by then after an extended bar crawl. Anyway, Donnice and I had a lovely time sipping our beverages and viewing the landscapes as we cruised by. I learned that she lives only an hour away from my home! Imagine that. It certainly is a small world."

So perhaps this was more than just a shipboard romance for Terrell. He seemed to hope so and the amount of emotion he was investing in the budding relationship would indicate that.