Murder of a Needled Knitter Read Online Free PDF

“I’m sure in the small amountof time the crew has off, they scheme to sabotage the passengers’ diets.”
    â€œOf course they do, sugar,” Wally agreed, playing along with the joke as he and Skye wandered through the portrait gallery.
    Here, the ship’s photographers posted the pictures they’d taken of the passengers both on board and in port. In an attempt to spur impulse purchases, the gallery was strategically placed between the dining rooms and the entertainment venues. Panels and panels of plastic holders lined the walkway, and it often took folks several sweeps to locate their own photos.
    â€œThe bartenders plot how to get their customers to overindulge and become drunken fools, too,” Wally added as an apparently inebriated couple did a conga down the gallery.
    Skye chuckled, then pointed. “There we are when we embarked.” She and Wally were posed in front of a background of painted palms with a huge banner reading B ON V OYAGE D IAMOND C OUNTESS strung between the trees.
    â€œDo you want to buy it?” Wally asked, reaching for the print.
    â€œMaybe.” Skye peered more closely at the photo, then shook her head. “My eyes are half closed.”
    They strolled on to the next set of pictures, stopping next to one of Skye and Wally on the beach. They’d been lying side by side on the sand when the photographer had taken the shot.
    â€œHow about this one?” Wally tapped the plastic shield. “Since you have your sunglasses on, you can’t tell if your eyes are open or shut.”
    Skye was okay with being quite a bit curvier than present fashion dictated, but a swimsuit revealed everything. And because she’d acquiesced to Wally’s pleading, she was wearing a two-piece suit. It was by no means a bikini, having a high-waisted bottom and a full-coverage bandeau top, but still . . .
    â€œI’m not thrilled with pictures of me dressed that way,” she said. “Or I should say undressed that way.”
    â€œI am.” Wally put his arm around her and hugged her to his side.
    â€œI’m sure there’ll be plenty of other snapshots of us we can buy.”
    â€œYou look terrific,” Wally insisted. “I want this picture for my desk so when it’s below zero and the mayor is driving me crazy, it’ll remind me of cuddling with you on a tropical beach.”
    â€œWell, since you put it that way . . .” How could she be self-conscious about her body when her new husband obviously loved her the way she was? “Go ahead.”
    While Wally stood in line to make his purchase, Skye listened to the disembodied voice on the PA system urging passengers to attend the various activities taking place throughout the ship. She was so glad that the incessant loudspeaker announcements were not audible in their cabin. If they wanted to hear the broadcasts, they could tune one of the three televisions in their suite to the ship’s channel, but they weren’t continually bombarded by the annoying messages.
    When Wally returned holding a cardboard folder with the intricate
Diamond Countess
logo emblazed in gold across a background of aquamarine waves, he asked, “Do you want to see one of the shows tonight? According to the
Diamond Dialogue
there’s a ventriloquist in the Pioneer Lounge, a country-and-western party on deck, and a Broadway production in the theater.”
    â€œThe singers and dancers might be fun,” Skye decided. “We get enough country music in Scumble River, and ventriloquists creep me out.” She made a face. “Vince had this scary dummy that he used to torment me with when we were little.”
    â€œSome of your stories about your brother make me glad I was an only child.” Wally put his palm on the small of her back and steered her toward the stern. “Atleast by the time Quentin came to live with us, the only thing I had to worry about was him