“I have thought,” she pointed out. But then she softened. “I take it you don’t disapprove?”

  “Disapprove! Honey, I think it’s great. This might even bring us closer together again, you know.”

  That’s exactly what she had been hoping for. Steven was a good man, in spite of the fact that he was too engrossed in his work, and tended to neglect his family. But she still had high hopes for him—for them. She reached out a hand and he took it warmly. “I very much would like for us to share this experience, Steven,” she said. “But if you don’t want to, I’m fully prepared to do it alone.”

  “I want to be there for you, honey,” said Steven. “I want this baby just as much as you do. But most of all I want you to be happy—and healthy. So no unnecessary risks, please. I don’t want to lose you.”

  She smiled. “You won’t lose me,” she said huskily. “On the contrary, our family is expanding.”

  “I can tell you right now there’s room in my heart for another baby. Maybe even twins.”

  She held up a hand. “Let’s not get carried away. One baby will do.” She glanced around, suddenly aware something was missing. Or rather someone. “Talking about babies, have you seen Frankie?”

  “Oh, she’ll be around somewhere,” he said, and pressed a loving kiss to her temple. “Though it might be safer to let Frankie stay with Harry for the time being. Safer for the baby, you know.”

  She laughed. “Oh, honey, dogs aren’t dangerous to pregnant women.”

  “Good,” he said. “I’d hate having to get rid of Frankie.”

  CHAPTER 41

  After having been cooped in that office for so long, we were all glad to step on deck again for some fresh air. And as Dooley and I took a walk along the deck to gather our thoughts after the recent interviews, I suddenly noticed a dog barking up a storm on one of the piers along which boats were lined up. The Audrey was moored just outside of the small port, but I could still detect the dog that seemed eager to attract our attention. And when I focused a little more closely, I suddenly realized…

  “Hey, isn’t that Frankie?” said Dooley.

  “It is,” I said.

  “What is she doing on that pier?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Maybe she felt like going for a little swim?”

  Judging from the way she kept jumping up and down to attract our attention, I didn’t think that was the case. Probably something more nefarious was going on.

  “Let’s tell Odelia,” I suggested.

  We went in search of our human and found her chatting with the captain, once again broaching the topic of that lockbox, but also inquiring whether the boat was equipped with security cameras. Which, as it turns out, unfortunately it was not.

  “Odelia, we found Frankie,” I told our human.

  She thanked the captain, and joined us on deck to take a closer look at the strange phenomenon of the moored Shih Tzu.

  “Now what on earth is she doing out there?” asked Odelia.

  “You better tell Amanda we found her dog,” I said.

  And while Odelia left to look for Amanda, to give her the good news that her dog had been found—if she had even noticed her missing, that is—Dooley and I discussed the recent series of interviews.

  “I feel like we’re still not a lot closer to the truth,” I said. “As I see it, anyone could have entered Emily’s cabin last night and killed that man.”

  “But how did that man end up in her room in the first place?” said my friend. “Where did he come from all of a sudden, and who is he?”

  “Just a tourist, according to the police,” I said. Though frankly I didn’t believe that. Somehow this man’s identity was important, and could provide a clue as to who killed him. But clearly the police weren’t all that interested in investigating that part, since they figured they already had their killer in custody.

  “I think we need to think laterally, Max,” said Dooley.

  I gave him an amused smile. “Well, go ahead, Dooley. How would you approach this case, thinking laterally?”

  “Well…” he said, thinking hard. “I think it’s not inconceivable that the most obvious solution is also the right solution.”

  “And what is the most obvious solution?”

  “That the French police are right, and that Emily did kill that man. She and Harry had a fight, after she saw him kiss Chloe, so she decided to go to shore and get her revenge by kissing the first man she saw, which happened to be Daniel Taylor. She invited him back to the boat, he became frisky, she didn’t like it, so she stabbed him.”

  “They became frisky, did they?”

  “Very frisky, Max. It’s what people do, isn’t it? They become frisky.”

  “But why would she stab him?”

  “Because he got too frisky, Max. And so she had to stop him. It was self-defense. And if she would simply admit to what she did, she would probably get off with a light sentence. Juries are always sympathetic to people defending themselves against friskiness.”

  “It’s a possible explanation,” I admitted. “But privately, to Odelia, I’m sure Emily would have confessed to what happened—if it happened as you describe. Which I honestly don’t believe for one second.”

  “Oh?” said Dooley, looking a little disappointed. “So what do you think happened, Max?”

  “I think someone smuggled this man on board, placed him in Emily’s room and killed him to implicate her in that crime. And this person—whoever it is—is the same person who sent her those messages, that picture, and has been steadily escalating their threats. When they saw that Emily didn’t comply after that first message with the picture, they gradually increased the pressure, until it all came to a head last night.”

  “But if this person wanted to get rid of Emily, why didn’t they kill her instead of this mystery man?”

  “Because if they killed Emily, the police would be looking for her killer right now, wouldn’t they? But instead they arrested Emily, and the killer got off scot-free. Or at least they think they did.”

  “But you’re going to find who did it, aren’t you, Max?”

  I produced a deep sigh. “I honestly don’t know, Dooley. I have a couple of ideas, but nothing that might crack this case wide open.”

  “Oh, you’ll get there,” said my friend. “I have every confidence that you will. All you need is fish.”

  “Fish?” I asked dubiously.

  “Fish is good for those little gray cells. Everyone knows that!”

  “I like fish,” I said. Though I didn’t know if it would make a lot of difference to my mental processes.

  Amanda had joined us, and when she saw poor Frankie yapping away, she cried, “Oh, my poor baby! How did she get over there!”

  Soon a small boat was dispatched—the same boat that had brought us all to shore for our visit to the town the day before—and as we watched the rescue operation from our front-row seat, more guests gathered to watch the spectacle.

  Frankie was finally reunited with Amanda, and the scene touched a chord with everyone. Tears were freely shed all around, and even I, a veteran of many an emotional scene, had to wipe away a tear or two.

  Frankie was released from being clasped to Amanda’s bosom, and admonished not to leave the woman’s sight ever again. Which is when she came tripping over and said, “You guys! Do I have a story to tell!”

  CHAPTER 42

  “You can’t believe what I’ve been through!” said Frankie.

  “Let me guess,” I said. “You went for a stroll around the deck late last night when someone kicked you off the boat. And since you couldn’t get back on board, and there was no one around to help you, you had no other recourse than to swim to shore, where you patiently waited until someone would see you and rescue you.”

  Frankie stared at me with open mouth. “What are you, psychic?”

  “Just putting two and two together,” I said with a frown. “Did you see the person who kicked you?”

  “No, I didn’t. It all happened so fast I didn’t have the chance to get a good look at them. But it was just as you say. I was taking a stroll on deck, like I always do, when suddenly I heard a rustle behind me. Next thing I knew I was flying through the air, and landed in the water! And since whoever constructed this boat made it impossible to climb back on board unless you’re an acrobat or a great white shark, there was no other option but to swim to the nearest pier—unless I wanted to keep treading water all night!”

  “Didn’t you bark, Frankie?” asked Dooley.

  “Oh, did I bark? Of course I barked! But unfortunately my bite is worse than my bark, and even my bite isn’t very big, and since I was in the water, trying to stay afloat, I couldn’t really put my back into it, if you know what I mean. The upshot was that nobody heard me, and I spent all night on that yonder pier—until you guys saw me. So thank you for that!”

  “We had been wondering where you could have gone off to,” I said.

  “What surprises me,” said Frankie, “is that Amanda didn’t miss me.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet she missed you,” I said. “Only last night wasn’t one of your usual nights.”

  “Yeah, what with the murder and all,” said Dooley.

  Frankie was taken aback by this. “Murder! On the Audrey?”

  “Yes, murder,” I said. “On the Audrey.”

  “But who? Why? When? How!”

  “The victim’s name is Daniel Taylor,” I said.

  “Never heard of him.”

  “And he was found in Emily’s bed.”

  “With a big knife sticking out of his chest,” said Dooley.

  “Oh, dear,” said Frankie. “So Emily killed this man? But why?”

  “We don’t think she did, actually,” I said.

  “But the police do,” said Dooley. “They’ve arrested her.”

  “That’s not good. That probably means the wedding is off, right?”

  “I think that’s a fair assumption,” I agreed.

  “But we’re trying to find the real killer,” Dooley said. “And prove to the police that Emily is innocent. That way the wedding will be on again.”

  “Well, let’s hope you succeed,” said Frankie. She thought for a moment, then something must have occurred to her, for her furry little face lit up. “The person who kicked me off the boat—that must have been the real killer!”

  I nodded. “Has to be. Whoever it is, they didn’t want to be disturbed—or recognized—by you, so they got rid of you first.”

  “Classic MO for any killer,” said Dooley. “Murder 101, basically. When you’re going to murder someone, first get rid of the dog.”

  “At least they didn’t kill you, too,” I said.

  Frankie shivered violently. “Imagine that!”

  Like pretty much everyone on board, Chloe and Eric had been standing on deck following the rescue operation with keen interest. Finally Frankie had been reunited with Amanda in an emotional scene that could have come straight out of a Disney movie, and applause rang out.

  “Stupid mutt,” said Eric. “What was she thinking, jumping overboard like that?”

  “She must have seen something,” said Chloe. “Probably a fish. Dogs are notoriously dumb creatures.”

  “She should have known that she couldn’t get back on board,” said Eric. He glanced over to Harry, who was standing next to his mom, then looked away again.

  “We need to talk, Eric,” said Chloe.

  “Oh, not again. We talked last night.”

  “It’s clear to me that you never loved me. So I don’t see any reason for us to stay together, do you?”

  “So we’re through, are we? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “What did you expect, Eric? You made a total fool of me. Even that stupid Julie Henderson woman, whose name isn’t even Julie Henderson, knows about you and Harry.”

  “There is no ‘me and Harry,’ and there never will be,” said Eric morosely as he leaned on the railing and looked out across the sea.

  “And now there is no more ‘Chloe and me,’ either and there never will be again. You should have told me, Eric, that you’re gay. You played me for an idiot.”

  “Look, I didn’t know, all right?”

  “Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “You’ve been in love with Harry all your life and yet you didn’t know if you were into men or not?”

  “I just figured… I might give it a shot.” He turned to her. “I like you, you know. I think you’re great.”

  “’Liking’ a girl is not enough, Eric.”

  “I thought it might be. I was hoping it would be.”

  “Well, now we know it’s not. God, I wasted so much time with you. The best years of my life.”

  “You’re twenty-one!”

  “So? Everyone knows that girls mature faster than boys. So technically I’ve been a mature woman for years—years I wasted on you, Eric Atkinson.”

  “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “You should have known that Harry wasn’t into you,” said Chloe. “Not the way you wanted. So why keep mooning over the guy?”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” he said quietly.

  “No, frankly I don’t,” she agreed. “But just so we’re clear: we’re done, you and me. It’s over.”

  “So that probably means you’re leaving, right?”

  “What did you expect?”

  “You don’t want to stick around to find out what’s going to happen with Emily?”

  “I don’t care about Emily! I never did. And now that it turns out she’s a murdering maniac I just wish I never laid eyes on the girl.” She glanced over to Harry. “And frankly I’ll bet Harry feels the same way.”

  “He believes she’s innocent. That someone else murdered that guy to get her locked up and put a stop to the wedding.”

  “Oh, wake up, Eric. No one is crazy enough to pull a stunt like that.” She checked her watch. “I better start packing. I’ve booked a taxi to take me to the airport in one hour.”

  “So I guess this is goodbye?”

  “Yep. This is goodbye.” And good riddance, she thought. He extended a hand and she shook it. “Have a nice life, Eric.” Or not.

  “Yeah, have a nice life, Chloe. And…” He hesitated, hanging onto her hand for some reason.

  “What?”

  “No, nothing. I just wanted to say thank you… for everything.”

  “Whatever,” she said, and let go of his hand.

  Eric watched his now ex-girlfriend walk off. Oddly enough he didn’t feel sad or anything, just relieved. He’d known for a while that he probably should have said something to her about the emotional turmoil he was in. But Chloe wasn’t the kind of person you could talk to about stuff like that. She had a sort of hardness about her that he had never liked. He might even have been afraid of her a little. Or a lot.

  “Everything all right with you?”

  He looked up and saw that Harry had joined him.

  For a moment he didn’t know what to say. “Um… She’s leaving,” he said finally.

  “You two broke up?”

  “She broke up with me. Said I’ve been playing her for a fool.”

  “She kinda sorta has a point there, buddy,” said Harry.

  Eric glanced over, and was surprised to see a smile on his friend’s face. It warmed the cockles of his heart. “Yeah, she does,” he admitted.

  “I mean, if my girlfriend told me she was in love with another woman, I don’t think I’d be inclined to stay with her either.”

  He swallowed. “About last night…”

  “It’s fine,” said Harry. “We don’t need to dwell on that.”

  “But—”

  “Look, I don’t feel that way about you, all right? But you’re still my best friend, and I don’t see why we should let this stop us from being friends. Unless you feel we can’t be friends anymore, of course?”

  “Oh, no! I definitely think we can still be friends.”

  “Fine. It’s just that with Emily in jail, I need a good friend right now, buddy. I mean, as things stand, she’ll probably be charged with the murder of that guy they found in her cabin this morning.”

  “They’re actually going to charge her?”

  “My dad talked to the lawyer, and he says the police are convinced she’s the killer. Her fingerprints were on the knife, and the door was locked from the inside, with the only spare key in a lockbox in the captain’s office, and the captain and the purser swearing up and down that they keep the lockbox key on their person at all times. So yeah, the lawyer thinks they’re going to charge her.”

  “Can’t your dad get her out on bail?”

  “It’s not that easy. We’re in France, and the prosecution will argue that she’s a flight risk, considering she’s not a native. So bail is probably a big no-no. Which means…” He sighed deeply.

  “Which means she’ll be locked up until the trial.”

  “Which could take months, even years.”

  “Years!”

  “Could be up to ten years before this goes to trial, though the lawyer thinks it will probably be a lot sooner, since the case isn’t that complex. Open-and-shut, the police call it.”

  “But what about this woman—this Kingsley person?”

  Harry glanced over to where Mrs. Kingsley stood talking to his dad, and said, “She’s our last hope, buddy. If she can’t figure out who the real killer is, that’s it for Emily.”

  “Have you seen her? How is she holding up?”

  “They won’t let me see her. Not until after the juge d’instruction, as they’re called here, has decided to proceed to trial.”

  “Then let’s hope Mrs. Kingsley comes through.”

  Harry crossed his fingers, and so did Eric.

  CHAPTER 43

  Dooley and I were wandering the deck. I was eager to get to some kind of a solution to the problem that was vexing us, but so far inspiration had proved reluctant to strike. Odelia had told us that Chloe was leaving in an hour, and had ordered a taxi to take her to the airport, and with Emily in prison, more people might be leaving soon. And the worst part was that we couldn’t keep them there. So it was imperative we figured this out—soon!