Haunted Destiny

  “Roger Antrim?” Mike sounded shocked. “That can’t be.”

  “Why?” Jude asked sharply.

  “Well, he and his wife are on this ship quite frequently. Nice man. Always courteous, which you might not expect, seeing what a powerhouse he was in business. And his wife! She’s lovely.”

  “Yes,” Jude murmured.

  “And Jensen! He’s a ball of fire. People love him.”

  Not all people, Jude thought. But he knew he couldn’t let his personal feelings influence his search for a killer.

  Still, he couldn’t forget the way Jensen had looked at him when he’d realized that Alexi hadn’t been alone—that she’d been with Jude.

  “Hank Osprey,” Mike went on. “I don’t really know him. And I’ve never met Simon Green.”

  “I have pictures on my phone. It’s worthless for communication right now, but I can show you some shots of these men,” Jackson said, and proceeded to do so. “If you see any of them here, let us know immediately.”

  “Immediately,” Mike echoed. “And your list is safe with me.” He smiled. “I swear to God. And coming from me, that’s a real vow.”

  Jude and Jackson left the chapel and strode down the Promenade Deck. Some people were out and about; the shops were open, but doing little business. A few people were in the cafés.

  “I’d give my eyeteeth to speak with Angela,” Jackson muttered.

  “You think this supports our theory?” Jude asked.

  Jackson glanced over at him. “Either that, or the killer wants us to pursue that angle. I do actually think we’re on the right track. This killer is organized. Careful. He stalks his victims and is familiar with their routines, their habits. He knows how to hide their bodies—until he’s ready to display them. The only time he’s ever made a mistake was when Byron Grant returned home too quickly.”

  “And even then, he killed Byron. Dumped his body and displayed Elizabeth’s.”

  Jackson nodded.

  “Do you think the killer might have known his victims personally? That some or all of them were women who snubbed him? Perhaps they even used their work as a way to turn him down.”

  “It’s possible. The evidence shows that killers like this often prey on women who remind them of someone they want to hurt. Some kill their mothers over and over again—and some repeatedly kill the girl who got away.”

  “Yeah, I know, but that doesn’t really narrow anything down for us,” Jude said. “Every one of these suspects has been to Cozumel before. And every one of them had opportunity in the cities where the killings took place.”

  “Roger, though,” Jackson murmured. “He’s been in the news quite a bit over the last few years. If he’d been spotted in the vicinity of any of these murders, there’s a good chance he would’ve been identified.”

  “It’s interesting,” Jude added, “that he’s always portrayed as a family man in the media.” He paused. “Nevertheless, his wife suspected him of having an affair—with Flora Winters. But of course, it turns out that Flora’s someone he met with for business reasons.” He sighed. “Yeah, we could really use some communication with the mainland right about now. For one thing, we’d find out who bought those medallions from her husband.”

  “It won’t be long,” Jackson said. “By tomorrow we’ll reach port. At least there, we’ll have agents and internet access again. We’ll get this guy, whether it’s on the ship or on shore. He must realize that.”

  Jude felt suddenly chilled. “He must realize that,” he repeated slowly.

  “And yet the Archangel seems to believe he’s invincible.”

  “I hope so,” Jude said. “Because he has two medallions left. And he’s probably growing impatient, maybe desperate. He might start taking too many chances.”

  “Which might help us catch him—but could also make him all the more dangerous,” Jackson agreed. “Maybe we should see how the day is going in the Egyptian Room.”

  * * *

  Musical chairs.

  Alexi could tell that even Jensen was running out of things to do.

  But she had to hand it to him; the passengers did seem to be having fun.

  The game was actually enhanced by the movement of the ship, since the players had to try harder to reach their marks. There was a lot of laughter and good-natured hysteria.

  It didn’t hurt that the bar had done a booming business.

  Hank wasn’t playing musical chairs. He and Ginny had left after Jensen had introduced a game of Twister.

  There’d been too many people touching too many people, she was certain, for Hank to want his Ginny playing such a game.

  She was relieved to see Jude and Jackson walk into the room and saunter over to the bar to watch the activity. She was sure that they’d both noticed exactly who was—and wasn’t—in the room.

  “And...sit!” Jensen said.

  People scrambled for chairs.

  Jensen swung around to see who was out. Before he could say anything else, the bell of the PA system sounded. Captain Thorne’s voice came on over the speaker.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” he boomed. “I’m happy to announce that we’re drawing ahead of the storm. Tonight, however, we’re going to be passing through rough waters. We won’t be returning to New Orleans. Rather, we’ll round the tip of Florida and reach the Port of Miami. Now, no one should worry about that. The Celtic American will arrange to fly you back to New Orleans as soon as we’re assured you won’t be facing evacuation lines out of the city. They still aren’t sure. Dinah may head for Cuba or Florida, but we’ll be getting to Miami in time to see that you’re all safe. By early tomorrow evening, we’ll have you docked. Now, of course, we’ll try to work our Celtic American magic to make this up to you—even if the storm is an act of God. As for this evening, folks, we’re going to have one dinner sitting in the main dining room. That will be at seven o’clock. We’ll let you enjoy the pursuits of your choice, including the casino, until ten. At that time, we’ll ask everyone to return to their cabins. The crew will be very busy through this last patch of rough sailing. As I said, we want all of you safe. We’ll be closing our restaurants, cafés, bars and other venues at ten, to ensure our staff’s safety, too. Thank you all, and see you at dinner!”

  The PA system went silent.

  “Well!” Jensen said. “I proclaim everyone still by the chairs a winner! Yes, even you, Ms. Starbridge, although you did lose on that last go-round. My gorgeous assistants—including you, Simon!—will be handing out the bottles of champagne you’ve just won. I’ll let you get back to your cabins in case you want to dress for dinner, and if you don’t...well, the bars are open from now until ten.”

  Alexi distributed champagne as quickly as she could.

  She kept a smile on her face, even though she couldn’t wait to be out of the Egyptian Room. She didn’t need Jensen bounding over to tell her cheerfully that she’d be playing through dinner again, and that she’d still have to spend the hour from nine to ten in the piano bar.

  At last, the champagne had been handed out—and Jensen thanked them all for their aid and assistance in keeping the passenger fun rolling, right along with the ship.

  A few of his people were just returning from the task of circulating out the ship’s instructional sheets—just in case anyone had somehow missed the PA announcement, heard all over the ship—and they laughed at the feeble joke.

  The entertainers who’d been brought in barely managed a smile.

  After that they were free. Simon nudged Alexi and shook his head. “You’re a trouper. They’re going to have you playing piano for hours again. After all the fun and games that kept things rolling along today.”

  “It’s not exactly heavy labor,” she said. “I’d rather be off tonight, but I can play if I have to. I was looking forward to see
ing Les Miz on our final night.”

  “All that rehearsal and no show.” Simon groaned. “Hopefully, they’ll keep the cast together and open the show on another voyage.”

  “It’ll depend on how many of the cast are on the same contracts with Celtic American,” Alexi told him. “People sign up for different lengths of time with the company. Anyway, who knows? We could wake up tomorrow to beautiful clear blue skies. I’m going to take advantage of my two free hours, Simon. You coming back to your cabin? I think a bunch of us are heading down together.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  They walked across the room to join the agents, as well as Clara, Ralph and Larry.

  “Alexi!” Jensen called, stopping her. She turned around as he trotted toward her.

  “You understood all that, right?” he asked her. “You play through dinner. Then you’ll open the piano bar, but only for an hour. At some point I may need everyone again tomorrow. If we’re far enough ahead of the storm by morning, we’ll entertain until we make dock.”

  “Yes, I understand, Jensen.”

  He gave her a strange smile. “It’s almost at an end, Alexi. Almost at an end.”

  He kept looking at her, waiting for her reply. Something about the way he smiled seemed to create a shiver in her blood.

  “Yes, thanks, Jensen,” she said, and hurried on past him.

  She wanted to throw herself in Jude’s arms; at that moment she didn’t care about appropriate behavior—or about her own job.

  She refrained, though. Jude was an FBI agent, so his could be at stake if she did something as public and as obvious as that.

  Somehow, she forced herself to behave with decorum as she approached the group. “Everything okay?” Jude asked.

  “Other than a killer being on board and a raging storm?” she returned softly. “Just great.”

  When he frowned, she said, “Really. I’m okay. Except for the obvious, everything’s fine.”

  “Yeah, wonderful,” Clara muttered, grimacing. “I love this impromptu business. I’m glad you’ve got a hell of a repertoire, Alexi. We’ve had so many of these events, I don’t even remember if I know any more songs.”

  “Of course you do!” Ralph insisted. “Just on Celtic American cruises, you’ve done Phantom, Chicago, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and Rent. We are actors!” he declared with a dramatic sweep of his arms. “The show must go on!”

  “Oh, rot,” Larry said, passing by him. “The show isn’t going on. We’ll perform whatever silly songs, chorus numbers and dance routines we can manage. And tomorrow, thank God, we’ll be off this floating pile of sticks. I, for one, am grateful.”

  When he walked ahead, Ralph glanced at the others worriedly, then chased after him. It didn’t take long to catch up. They were both waiting for the elevator as the rest of the group arrived. Alexi lowered her head and smiled.

  “Two hours,” Simon grumbled. “Two hours until whatever we’re doing—and after that I can go to bed and sleep until we reach port! Ladies and gentlemen, it’s been fun, but forgive me if I can’t wait until it’s over.”

  “Forgiven,” Clara assured him. “I think we’re all feeling that way.”

  “Not Jensen. He’s thriving on being in charge, enjoying his time in the spotlight,” Alexi said.

  The elevator finally came and they all crowded in; everyone was silent as they rode down.

  Alexi thought there was a heightened aura of tension around them.

  Simon was still a suspect.

  Stepping off the elevator, Alexi saw one of the security officers. He nodded at Jackson and Jude, and smiled at the others. He was in a good location, Alexi thought. From where he stood near the bank of elevators he could look down the length of the hallway.

  All seemed well.

  Together the group walked to each of their cabins.

  Simon waved as he went into his and closed his door. Then Ralph and Larry marched arm in arm into Larry’s cabin, heedless of who was around them.

  “You’ll come for me later?” Clara asked when they reached her door.

  “Yes,” Jude replied. “Don’t worry.”

  When she’d entered her cabin, Jackson said goodbye to Alexi and Jude and headed into his own.

  Alexi opened her door. She was afraid she’d act like a nervous schoolgirl, desperate to be in his arms.

  He pulled her to him and held her close. Then he drew away.

  “Have any of the men on our list ever wanted to date you?” he asked.

  “Not Roger Antrim, although he’s never been anything but nice,” she said. “The others? Not really. I just met Simon on this cruise. He hasn’t asked me out. Jensen’s been flirtatious and he seems harmless, but...” She paused. “In some ways, he’s kind of—”

  “Kind of what?” Jude pressed.

  “Creepy.”

  Jude nodded. “And Hank?”

  “Oh, he’s always a gentleman. I used to feel sorry for him. There’s nothing wrong with Hank. He— Well, I’m happy he seems to like Ginny so much. I hope she didn’t get involved with him just for his money, because I think he really cares about her. Why? What’s happened? No one else is missing, right?”

  “No, no, but the Reverend Mike called us down to the chapel. Someone had been there—moving the Bibles around and leaving one of them, the King James Version, open at a certain page. A certain verse. One that talks about how women should serve their husbands and work in their homes.”

  “The...Archangel did that?”

  “We don’t know for sure. We’re very concerned about it, though. Here’s the thing. It’s possible that the killer knew his victims. If he moved from port to port on business or leisure, he could have met them. They might have been women who turned him down. And, instead of being cruel or blunt, we think they might’ve used their busy work schedules as an excuse. A way to tell him politely that they weren’t interested. Even if he hadn’t met his victims, he stalked them and knew who they were. He was certainly familiar with their patterns. We’re also considering the possibility that they were stand-ins for a certain woman who did turn him down at some point in his life,” Jude explained.

  “I wonder... We need to find Byron Grant. Maybe he can tell you more. Fill in some details.”

  “Byron Grant was in love with his fiancée, Elizabeth, and it sounded as if she was deeply committed to him, too. Unlikely that she would’ve been seeing anyone else.”

  “Yes, ” Alexi said, “but what if someone had asked her out—when she was at work, when she was having lunch, picking up her dry cleaning, whatever! She would’ve told Byron.”

  “Even if we go with your premise, I doubt Byron would have seen the guy. And if he recognized someone on the ship, wouldn’t he have pointed that someone out to us?”

  “Yes. But what if he and Elizabeth were talking and she casually said that he should appreciate her, that she’d had another offer? You know, in sort of a joking way. He wouldn’t have been jealous or angry. At least, I don’t think so. They were in love. So Byron might’ve said something like, ‘Teasing me, huh? Who was this guy?’ And Elizabeth might’ve answered with something that could potentially narrow it down. Like, ‘Oh, just some rich dude,’ or ‘some guy who works on a ship. Not to worry, I told him I was too busy with work.’” Alexi shrugged. “Can you imagine that kind of scenario?”

  Jude studied her. “Maybe. But whenever he crosses paths with Jackson and me, he shakes his head sadly and moves on.”

  “He’s a ghost. In theory, he can be anywhere and see anything,” Alexi murmured. “But he didn’t see what happened in Cozumel. I know he’s still trying to help you, though.”

  “Yes, I believe that, too,” Jude said. “And I agree it’s worth talking to him again.”

  She searched Jude’s face, trying to read his expression. ??
?Just one more night on the ship,” she whispered.

  He smiled at her, smoothing the hair from her forehead. “I’ll be glad to have you safely on land,” he told her. “I’ll be glad to have a nice large field office and every cop in NOLA on this. I want computer tech help...and I want you safe!” he repeated.

  “My home’s in NOLA, too, remember?” she said, her arms locked around his neck.

  He grinned. “Oh, yeah, I remember.”

  “It’ll be a relief to get home. I certainly don’t need to be sailing for a while,” she told him huskily.

  He pulled her close again. “Good,” he said. “Because this Archangel mess isn’t over yet. You need to be extra cautious. And I need to watch out for you and— Oh!”

  “What?”

  “Do you live with your family?”

  She laughed. “No, I have a really cool apartment. Supposedly,” she added, “Andrew Jackson slept there.”

  “I can deal with him. Or his ghost. I’m just glad you don’t live with your parents. I’m sure I’m going to love them, but I’d feel a bit awkward introducing myself and sleeping with their daughter.”

  “So, we’ll stay at my place when we get back to the city?”

  “Or mine. I’m in the lower Garden District,” he said. “Nice place. Pretty big, with a backyard. Perfect for a dog. No dog yet, I’m afraid. Maybe we’ll get one. Dogs are great guardians.”

  “And great pets.” She smiled. The ship pitched and they fell together, catching each other.

  She moved away from him, saying, “I’m going to take a quick shower and dress for dinner. You’re welcome to join me.”

  “I am fond of cleanliness,” he joked. “I’ll be with you in a minute. I’m just going to check in with Jackson.”

  Alexi went into the shower, shedding her clothing as she walked. With a teasing little movement, she tossed her dress up and then let it fall to the floor, kicking it aside with her foot—still clad in its elegant strappy sandal.