"Welcome to Plainfields, Stephanie." She gave me a hug as I stared at her. "How did you..." My mind was spinning. I called myself Stephanie, but... "R...lax. This place is not what it seems. Her voice dropped to a baritone. "My real name is Maxwell, but I go by Amanda." The voice moved back up to a feminine alto. "And yes, I'm a lot like you." I quietly fainted.I woke up to the van stopping. When I opened my eyes, Amanda was holding me, and smiling. "Have a good nap?" I nodded shakily, and looked. Fucking, the most fun. But postcoital languor, sitting up, shoulder to shoulder, murmuring softly. Well, Eamon murmured, I listened avidly.Liz Claymore fucked around on her husband. Men, women, cabin boys.Frank Claymore fucked around on his wife. Women and cabin boys.Eamon dished about his fellow crew members as well. I didn’t mind in the least. Might pick up a clue. More sex than the passengers were enjoying. But the crimes were petty. Pilfering. Sneaking bottles of booze.So far Eamon hadn’t. More

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