Haunted Destiny

  But Byron must’ve been a decent man. He and his Elizabeth had surely been a loving couple, the kind of people who were bound to make the world a better place, Alexi thought sadly, watching him talk to Clara. She admired his earnestness, the way he assured Clara that he was doing everything he could to see that the murderer was brought to justice.

  And by the time Byron had gone through whatever reserves of strength or will or whatever allowed him to appear, Clara in turn was watching him as he vanished before her eyes.

  “I see the dead.” Clara was staring straight ahead. She looked at Alexi. “I see the dead. You see the dead. You take it so...calmly.”

  “I’ve known for years that I see them,” she said in a quiet voice. “It’s...it’s in my family.”

  “Sure.” Clara shrugged with a hint of humor. “Some people inherit blue eyes. Some people inherit the ability to see the dead,” Clara said. “And now, now when I’m terrified of a serial killer, I get to see the dead, too. Wow. What a voyage.”

  “You’ve been seeing them all along,” Alexi told her.

  “What?”

  “Blake and Minnie. They’re always at the piano bar.”

  Clara flopped back on the bed and closed her eyes. “This isn’t real. It can’t be. We’re getting cabin fever because of the storm. And because...there’s a serial killer aboard.”

  “Clara, seeing the dead is a good thing,” Alexi reassured her.

  “Why? Is the ghost going to catch the serial killer?”

  “Well, no, but he is looking after us.”

  “And if he sees someone about to attack us, what’s he going to do? Scream for help?”

  “Maybe,” Alexi said. “Others see him, too.”

  Clara bolted into a sitting position. “You’re going to tell me the FBI men see ghosts?”

  “Uh, yes,” Alexi mumbled. “These two, anyway.”

  “No. Oh, no! This can’t be true. It can’t be.”

  There was a knock at her cabin door and Alexi hurried over, hoping it was going to be Jude.

  It wasn’t.

  It was Jensen Hardy.

  She hesitated, not wanting to open the door. She’d had enough of him that day.

  And she wasn’t supposed to open her door—except for Jude or Jackson.

  “Yes?” she called.

  “Hey, all entertainment on deck, dressed and ready to go. Captain Thorne wants all singers and dancers ready for impromptu performances. Captain’s dinner!” Jensen announced.

  Glancing through the peephole again, Alexi saw that Johnny was still on duty, watching over them. He stood just beyond Jensen.

  She opened the door. “Why?” she asked.

  “I have the feeling Thorne just wants to get through the dinner,” Jensen said. “We’ll probably go into emergency mode after that. He’ll be asking passengers to stay in their cabins and listen to the PA system. So, we’re going to entertain at dinner.”

  “With no plan?” Clara asked, rising. “No rehearsals or anything?”

  “Hey, this came down to me from Bradley Wilcox,” Jensen said. “A few minutes ago.”

  “And we have to do it?”

  “Only if you want to keep your employment with Celtic American,” Jensen said. “Report to the main dining room in an hour, all prettied up and ready to go. Come on. I know you guys helped me out today, but I’m as tired as you are. Think of it this way. You can sleep all day tomorrow if we go into emergency mode. Great sleeping,” he added sarcastically, “tossing and turning like we’re on a roller coaster.”

  “Okay, okay! We’ll be there,” Alexi said, closing the door. Clara wasn’t in her usual state of self-control; she seemed ready to throw a pillow or something harder at Jensen.

  “Dickhead!” she muttered.

  “It not Jensen’s fault,” Alexi pointed out.

  “I meant Bradley Wilcox. But they’re both dickheads.” She stood. “I’d better go clean up and get dressed.”

  “Are you okay?” Alexi asked, afraid her tone was more anxious than she wanted it to be. If she was going to convince Clara that it was actually a good thing to talk to ghosts, she had to make sure she projected her own comfort with the phenomenon.

  “No, I’m feeling pissed off, but...” Clara squared her shoulders. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m not religious, although I’ve always believed in something beyond this life—and I guess that could include ghosts. Seeing them, hearing them, talking to them. All the philosophical ramifications of this...well, I hope I’ll be able to take them in when there isn’t a serial killer aboard the ship I’m on. Not to mention a storm named Dinah bearing down on us.”

  She headed for the cabin door, then turned back.

  “They don’t just pop in on you unexpectedly, do they?” she asked, sounding worried.

  “Byron is very polite,” Alexi replied. “he knocks when he comes to visit.”

  “But you said he’s not the only ghost on this ship.”

  “All our ghosts are very circumspect,” Alexi said.

  Clara sighed. “Courteous ghosts. What next?” She set her hand on the cabin door.

  “Wait!” Alexi said. “Careful. Let me check that Johnny’s still out there.”

  She looked through the peephole. They were safe. Johnny was there, standing guard. Alexi opened the door and smiled at him. “Could you walk Clara across the hall?”

  “Of course,” Johnny said with a nod. “My pleasure.” Clara had barely been gone two minutes when Alexi heard another tap at her door. She assumed it was Clara coming back for some reason.

  She almost forgot about safety and was on the verge of throwing open her door. But she heard Jude’s voice, identifying himself.

  Grateful that she hadn’t just opened her door, she let him in.

  “Where have you been?” she demanded. “Jude, it went from bingo to trivia. And on to a wet T-shirt contest.” She rolled her eyes. “I really tried to draw people out. I had a few minutes with Jensen, who doesn’t seem to be the least interested in collectible religious objects. And I saw Hank Osprey. He was there with Ginny, and she wanted to enter the wet T-shirt contest, but he wouldn’t let her. Or at least he discouraged her in no uncertain terms. Is that overly possessive? Or is that how a guy might naturally feel? Oh, and I’ve discovered that Clara sees the dead, too. I’d suspected it, but now I know. I think she’s okay with it.” Alexi stopped speaking; she felt as though she was babbling. Maybe she was getting tired. Or maybe she was so glad to see Jude she was afraid she was becoming dependent on him.

  Maybe she was even wondering what would happen if they survived this journey... She was afraid that her flustered state of mind might repel him.

  But it didn’t seem to. Although he’d been tense, he smiled and took her gently into his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’m sorry you were brought into this.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about,” she insisted. She pulled away from him, meeting his eyes, then laid her cheek against his chest. “Byron came to me because he needed help. And, apparently, my life is at risk. I have to be in on this. And despite the geyser of words with which I greeted you, I’m fine.”

  “Very fine,” he whispered.

  “Jude, it’s so hard! When you’re dealing with people who seem to be so normal, how do you begin to figure out who could be a brutal killer?”

  He drew in a breath, and she knew he was thinking that there were cases when a killer hadn’t been caught, when he terrorized others for years—and perhaps died of natural causes without ever being discovered. And some serial killers had preyed on the unwary for years before being brought to justice.

  “We keep engaging them, as you did today, with Jensen and Hank. We wait for them to give themselves away. Sometimes all it takes is a word or mannerism. Sometim
es, we can eliminate people if we can determine where they were or weren’t at a certain time. And occasionally you talk to someone, and you somehow know. You sense that he’s guilty—and then you have to prove it. But in this situation we have to narrow down the possibilities.”

  “When the computers were still working, I was trying to gather whatever information I could on the saints’ medallions,” Alexi said.

  “Which, as we’ve all agreed, could be the key.” Jude hesitated. “I may have tracked down a set of the medallions.”

  Alexi sat on the bed and listened while he told about his day, about speaking with Lorna, and then Flora Winters—and learning that her husband had sold a set of the collectible medallions.

  She felt there was something he wasn’t telling her, though.

  “Jude? What is it?”

  He shook his head unhappily. “A man’s gone missing,” he explained. “Nathan Freeman, one of David Beach’s security crew. He was scheduled to be in the hallway this morning. He’s missing. We’ve searched the ship for him. Searched everywhere.”

  “You think...the killer got him?”

  “I think it’s possible.” He changed the subject abruptly. “I’m going to dress for dinner. You’re staying with me, and I don’t care whether or not we’re following staff policy.”

  “I have to be in the dining room,” she told him. “I’m one of the entertainers giving an impromptu performance for the captain’s dinner.”

  “I won’t be far away,” he promised. “I won’t be far from you—at any time.”

  * * *

  The tension among the passengers on the Destiny seemed palpable.

  The ship now had a constant sway, although it seemed to be riding the waves well.

  To reach their tables, people had to hold on to the backs of chairs. Once they were seated, waiters took more time than usual delivering drinks; they carried fewer glasses on a tray in case they lost their balance.

  Alexi observed that not everyone had made it down to the captain’s dinner.

  Clara was with her at the piano. Alexi had been given the task of playing “mood” music while the passengers found their seats.

  Jude stood near the piano, which was situated on a little dais. It had the added advantage of providing a good view of the dining room.

  Hank and Ginny, as well as Roger and Lorna were at the captain’s table; Jackson Crow had also secured himself a seat there. So had Flora Winters. The table seated ten, but Jude wasn’t familiar with the other four people there. He wasn’t surprised to see two of his suspects at the head table, since they were among the richest men in the country and had taken the ship’s most expensive suites.

  Simon Green was with a group of the performers.

  Jude didn’t see Jensen Hardy at first and stepped to the side to ask one of the security men to take a look around.

  It wasn’t long until the man returned; apparently, Jensen was preparing to come out and make announcements when Captain Thorne finished his speech.

  Soup and salads were served, and then the main courses.

  Alexi played throughout the meal. Jude watched her, admiring her. Her fingers moved with pure elegance over the keys. He loved the ease with which she played, and the way she could speak without missing a beat, sing and harmonize, and do it all as naturally as breathing. He studied her face and her expressions, and he felt a slow tightening in his muscles, wondering how one human being had become the world to him in just a few days.

  Because she was ready to risk everything when it mattered?

  Because she saw the dead?

  Because, somehow, she seemed to reach his soul?

  He saw Jensen approaching the captain’s table with a microphone.

  Captain Thorne rose, and Alexi stopped playing.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” he said, addressing the dinner guests. “I’m Xavier Thorne, your captain on the Destiny. I believe that all of you are on this ship because you’ve chosen to sail with history. Many of you have taken the tours we give of the ship, and have learned about her role as a hospital ship. You sail with her through time, and you sail with the ghosts of the past.”

  They sure did! Jude thought.

  “This is proving to be one of our more unusual cruises,” Thorne continued. “Our guests who are from certain areas of the country are well aware of tropical storms. We here, on the Destiny, also know them well. I want to welcome you aboard to reassure you that no matter how hard the winds blow, the Destiny will prevail. She’s made it through wind and rain and fire. She will do so again.” He cleared his throat. “I’d like to ask you to pay attention to our PA system. Announcements will be coming to you regarding our position at sea. We may ask that our nonessential personnel—that is, anyone not engaged in actually operating the ship—stay in their cabins for a spell. I ask our passengers, entertainers and staff to be expert sailors along with me and my crew, and to cooperate at all times. I invite you to speak about your voyage, and when we’ve returned to port, to brag that you were aboard the Destiny when she ran circles around Hurricane Dinah. I won’t confine anyone to their cabins unless it becomes necessary. If it should, I ask that you obey my directives. Other than that, enjoy your time aboard, just as I always enjoy mine. And thank you sincerely for sailing with Celtic American!”

  A round of applause followed his words.

  But then someone called out, “Captain, exactly when will we be reaching port?”

  Another asked, “Why haven’t you found a safe harbor yet?”

  “What are the cruise line officials doing? There has to be someplace to go!”

  “Hey, Cozumel was nearly flattened!” someone else shouted angrily.

  And then...

  “Captain! I heard that a man went missing today. Is that true? Was he swept overboard?”

  “Oh, my God!” several other people shouted.

  Captain Thorne raised his hand, his expression betraying no reaction at all. “You are safe aboard the Destiny. Obviously, we ask you not to hang over your balconies! As to our travels, we’re doing everything suggested by the United States government and the national weather experts. That is all.”

  He nodded toward Alexi.

  She began to play. Clara rose and sang. She had a crystal clear soprano that was distinct and captivating, and the room quickly became enthralled. When they took a break, several Les Miz performers—including Ralph, Larry and Simon—came to the dais and launched into a sketch of waiters on a cruise ship that was very funny.

  The diners began to talk again. They laughed and chatted at their tables.

  Jude’s walkie-talkie went off. He answered immediately. It was Jackson.

  “We’ve heard from Mexico,” Jackson told him. “From Capitan Suarez. Meet me in Communications as soon as possible.”

  * * *

  Nothing was going to happen in the main dining room, Alexi told herself.

  There were far too many people.

  Despite Jude’s assurances that Johnny and other security men were right there, Alexi knew he was unhappy about leaving her.

  It made her unhappy, too. But she forced a smile, then swept one arm toward the room, showing him how crowded it was, even though some tables were only half-occupied. The captain was still in attendance and there were dozens of security personnel lining the walls, many of whom she knew.

  She promised to stay with Clara and Johnny. And she smiled as she watched him walk away.

  Truth be told, though, she felt uneasy. Especially when she noticed that the captain was called away at the same time.

  Jude wouldn’t have left if something major hadn’t happened.

  The captain wouldn’t have left—unless something major had happened.

  She was supposed to continue playing. She did. She sang duets with Clara, k
eeping it light and lively.

  Finally, the last of the guests wandered out of the dining room. Jensen came over to thank all the entertainment crew for their help in making it the best captain’s dinner yet, despite the difficult circumstances.

  “So, what does that mean? Are we all off for the night? No rehearsal?” Ralph asked. “If we go into emergency mode, there obviously won’t be a show.”

  “The captain hasn’t declared an emergency yet,” Jensen said. “Our fearless leader, Bradley Wilcox, has ordered all entertainment tonight to go on as usual.”

  Alexi and Clara looked at each other.

  “This is ridiculous,” Clara murmured to Alexi. “Half our cast has done Les Miz before. We’re rehearsing ourselves to death.”

  Apparently, Jensen heard her. “Ms. Avery, do you have a problem with working?”

  “I never have a problem with working, Mr. Hardy. I just hope we’re not becoming so comfortable with the material that we forget to make it spontaneous and exciting.”

  Jensen gave her his typical perky grin. “Ah! Yes, well, you’ll have to take that up with management.”

  Johnny approached Alexi and told her, “It’s all right. Eckles is assigned to Clara. I’m with you, and Eckles will see that she gets to the piano bar as soon as rehearsal is over.”

  Much as she loved music, she was tired. In some ways, she wished they were in emergency mode now. In fact, she wished they were down to minimal crew, that all passengers and staff would be ordered to their staterooms, and that Jude and she could weather the storm alone in her tiny cabin. There was so much she wanted to know about him. She reminded herself that she’d been in mourning, that she’d loved Zachary truly and deeply. Yet Jude had come into her life under such strange circumstances and changed it completely.

  She would never forget Zach. But maybe the way they’d felt toward each other had allowed her this—the ability to love again.

  She couldn’t really love Jude, could she? So quickly? And where would it all lead? What would happen when they made port?

  “Onward!” Clara said, grimacing as she went off with the other Les Miz cast members, with Ben Eckles trailing behind them.