Crust

At first, Zandra isn't sure the scream is a scream, and she certainly can't tell where it's coming from. The noise comes through the vent above the Murphy bed. The morning before, the vent delivered the aroma of breakfast. That's where her mind goes first.

That's going to be some fresh pork sausage.

But when the scream repeats, it's far from a porcine squeal.

That's a person. Not a happy person, either.

Other than Aaron's room next door, Zandra doesn't know where else the vent connects. She checks the time and debates whether to go back to sleep.

Fuck it. It's only five minutes. Might as well get up.

Zandra is out the door in as long as it takes to give her teeth a pity brushing while throwing on her purple gown. The lawnmower knife never left its sheath on her forearm.

She's surprised when she's the only one in the hallway outside Cabin 27.

Am I the only one who heard that? Couldn't be.

Zandra hobbles up the stairs and shuffles into the lounge. It's empty. She rests against a window and listens. She hears fast yet muffled talking coming from the top level of the Curd Queen.

I could use a cigarette anyway. Breakfast of champions.

Zandra lights up when she reaches the top level. She spots Ivy, Jade, Captain Mel, and a couple crew members huddled against the railing across the deck from her. Even from a reasonable distance away, they're hard to make out. The Wisconsin River yawns thick fog up the sides of the Curd Queen as it greets the sun.

Look at the way they're in tight next to each other. This isn't some hippie calisthenics club.

Zandra makes her way toward the huddle. All five have their backs turned to her. She stops six feet away, but she can't make out what they're worked up about. They're so preoccupied that none of them acknowledge Zandra.

"This fog is really something," is all Zandra can think to say to get their attention.

Jade rushes into Zandra and buries her face in purple. She's sobbing.

"Uh...ahh...fog's not that bad, come on," Zandra says. She repositions her cigarette so the ashes don't fall on Jade.

Honestly, I wouldn't stuff my face into these sleeves if I were you.

Ivy, wearing an even slater face than usual, looks away from the railing. She places a hand on Jade's shoulder to retrieve her wife. The tears sogging Zandra's purple gown transfer to Ivy. That gives Zandra a look at the railing.

Zandra's stomach leaps into her throat. Her cigarette drops to the planked floor as her mouth freezes in mid-gasp.

Oh.

"This is horrible. Just horrible," Ivy says and shakes her head.

Slumped over the railing is the motionless body that used to be called Aaron Farve. He's positioned like he was throwing up over the side of the Curd Queen. His top half folds over the railing, while the lower half remains on deck.

Given Aaron's lack of reaction to the activity on the upper level, he could only be dead, although can't see his face without approaching the railing. She takes a few steps forward, but Captain Mel stops her.

"You don't want to see that," Captain Mel says.

"I don't, but I'm no stranger to the dead," Zandra says. "May I?"

Captain Mel moves aside. Zandra goes in for a better look from a section of railing several feet away from the body. With care not to lose her balance, she leans over the railing.

Holy shit. His fucking face is gone.

At least, I think that's where his face used to be. Hard to tell, since the face part is against the side of the boat.

Yeah. Yeah. There should be more face there. And there isn't.

Dried ribbons of blood cascade down the side of the Curd Queen. A crust of reddish-brown blots out a window in the lounge.

A sudden rush of queasiness nearly sends Zandra over the side. She pulls back from the railing just in time and rejoins the others.

"How long have you all been up here?" Zandra says.

"Few minutes," Captain Mel says.

One at a time or all at once?

"We all came up together to go over today's schedule," Ivy says, her voice shaky. "Then we found...this."

Weird coincidence, but thanks for answering that.

That they arrived up here together is a good sign none of them had anything to do with whatever happened to Aaron. A lone whistleblower, or a pair of them, sounding the alarm is one way to try to control the situation.

Zandra plucks up the cigarette that dropped out of her mouth. She places it back between her lips.

These things aren't free.

The cigarette masks Zandra's mixed feelings brewing behind the smoke. Half of her wants to cry at the gruesome sight. The other half wants to bask in her good fortune for being present for Aaron's unceremonious exit from life.

"How can you think about smoking in a time like this?" Jade says, looking out from her burrow in Ivy's shirt.

How can you not?

Zandra ignores the comment and passes a fresh cigarette to Captain Mel. He can't light up fast enough. His fingers tremble ever so slightly as they pinch the cigarette, wagging the embers.

Way off the baseline for him. He's had steady hands every other time. He's bothered by this.

"We need to call the police," Captain Mel says after three quick drags.

Ivy balks. "Police? Why? It's an accident."

"I don't think so," Captain Mel says.

"He got drunk, fell off the rail, and hit his head. It was tragic. End of story," Ivy says.

Ivy, on the other hand, is more irritated than shocked. Short, terse replies with hard stops between thoughts. Did you catch that? Just now, she said five bursts of four-syllable statements. "He got drunk." "End of story." Four syllables the whole way through.

Irritation can be defensive. Fewer words mean less wiggle room for interpretation, and she's offering an explanation within the first five minutes of discovering the body.

Interesting.

"I've seen people bleed. Bad, bad injuries. But I've never seen anything like that before," Captain Mel says.

"You're overreacting. We get the police involved, and this event is done," Ivy says, breaking from her four-syllable pattern. "That means paying out refunds with money that I don't have."

That makes Jade wail even more.

"It's my boat," Captain Mel says.

"It's my event," Ivy says.

"It'll be me getting sued when his family finds out, not you. I want a police report," Captain Mel says.

Ivy tries to stare Captain Mel down. She's unsuccessful.

"Fine, but I want to see it," Ivy says.

"You want me to lift the body up? You sure you can handle seeing that?" Captain Mel says.

The two other crew members present, sensing a dirty job ahead of them, start to sneak away. Captain Mel calls them back.

"I say it's an accident. You say it's something else. Let's have a closer look," Ivy says.

Yes, because police love it when you fuck around in a potential crime scene.

Jade lifts her head up. "Zandra."

Zandra raises her chin to attention.

"Zandra, you can communicate with him, right? Ask Aaron what happened," Jade says.

I was hoping no one would bring that up.

Captain Mel, Ivy, Jade, and the two crew members all turn toward Zandra. They wait for her answer while she sucks on the cigarette.

Time to punt some bullshit, I guess.

"He's already made contact, child," Zandra says finally. "His spirit is confused. He's not sure where he is, or what happened. This will often happen with those who passed suddenly. I'm sorry, I don't have more information than that."

Jade gasps in amazement. Captain Mel grunts. The two crew members look seasick. Ivy says, "So Aaron's ghost doesn't know any more than we do. Great."

Captain Mel peers over the railing at the body. "Maybe we don't need to move the body. Look at this."

Jade and the crew members hang back. Zandra and Ivy flank Captain Mel near the body.

"See that?" Captain Mel says. He points at the back of Aaron's head.

Zandra leans in as far as she can without touching the body.

Holy shit.

"Is that what I think it is?" Ivy says.

"Yes. Bullet hole in the back of the head," Captain Mel says. "It's small, so that's where the bullet entered. Then it exited through the face."

"Which is why the rest of Aaron's face is somewhere downstream," Zandra says.

"Exactly."

Ivy steps away and holds her head in her hands. Through labored breathing, she says, "I am never going to financially recover from this."

"What do we do now?" Jade says.

Zandra shuffles away from Aaron. Captain Mel snaps into full captain mode.

"I'm going to call the police. No one else does. I mean it. No one. Everything flows through me. That'll keep the communication and control centered," Captain Mel says. "It is critical that we don't cause a panic on board."

That perks Ivy back up. "So the event goes on?"

"For now, yes," Captain Mel says. He nods to the two crew members. "Seal off the upper level. No one comes up here. No exceptions."

"Breakfast service is in an hour, though, and it's supposed to be on the upper level," Ivy says.

"Then we'll move it to the lounge," Captain Mel says.

"What should we tell the attendees?" Jade says.

Two new voices pierce the fog from the other side of the deck.

"Tell the attendees what?" Rev. Cash says at the same time a spacey pDano® says, "Hell, yeah, feelin' those lovin' vibes up here."

Oh, fuck. Not these two slap dicks.

"Seal it off. Now," Captain Mel says to the crew members. They hurry off.

Captain Mel starts to explain the situation, but the sight of Aaron fills Rev. Cash and pDano® in quickly. Ivy utters the word everyone else has been reluctant to say.

"It appears Aaron was murdered," Ivy says.

That "appears" word puts some distance between her and the "murder" word. It's funny what you notice when you make an effort to notice.

pDano® goes silent for the first time since arriving on board. Rev. Cash suggests they pray. He leads with a wordy preamble before settling into the meat of the prayer. Ivy cuts him off.

"We can finish this later," Ivy says. "There's a murderer somewhere on this boat. We need a plan."

Again, she removes herself from the word "murder." The murderer is somewhere else, but not here.

Captain Mel crosses himself and then says, "Step one, I call the police and drop anchor. Step two, breakfast is served in the lounge. You, Ivy, tell the attendees there's a safety issue on the upper level. Tell them it's nothing to be concerned about, but that I forbid anyone from going up just to be safe. Step three, we wait for further instruction from the police. Until then, no one leaves the boat. Period."

Jade wipes a tear away. "So we just, what, hope whoever did this doesn't kill again?"

Zandra coughs into her sleeve. Captain Mel places a hand on her shoulder. It's heavy and warm.

Feels good.

"That's where step four comes in," Captain Mel says.

"Zandra? You can't really believe this charlatan is qualified to..." Rev. Cash starts to say.

I'd say I'm plenty qualified, asshole.

Jade interjects. "It was meant to be. There's a murder, but there's a a world-famous psychic detective on board. If this isn't fate, I don't know what is."

Yeah, I don't know what it is, either.

"You already talked with Aaron's spirit. Can you do more?" Jade says.

Zandra flicks her cigarette butt into the river. "I'll do my best."

"What? Your plan is to talk to dead people to solve a murder? This is unreal, just unreal," Rev. Cash says, exasperated.

"Jade is right," Ivy says. "Another person might be dead if we wait. If we can take care of this—discreetly—there's a chance the event can go on without anyone noticing."

"Exactly how long are you expecting the police to take to get here?" Rev. Cash says.

Captain Mel wipes his brow and looks out at the shoreline 100 feet away. It's thick with trees and rocky hills. "I have no idea. It's the weekend, and we're in the middle of nowhere. Nearest boat launch is 10 miles in either direction. If the murderer, or murderers, spot a police boat, who knows what will happen. Could start taking hostages."

"And the body?" Rev. Cash says.

"No one touches the body," Captain Mel says.

Ivy nods. Jade nods. pDano® yawns. Rev. Cash shakes his head.

"So where are you going to start?" Ivy says to Zandra.

Zandra lights a fresh cigarette, takes a drag, exhales, coughs into her sleeve, and says, "Does anyone know where Cherry Peach is?"