Krewe Of Hunters: Haunted Destiny Part 14

"Ah, at the moment I'm feeling like Blake Dalton!" he told her. "With Minnie on his arm."

He offered her his own arm, exactly as Blake would have done with Minnie.

She grinned and accepted it.

Everything seemed to be fine aboard the Destiny.

Jude was glad to have Alexi as a tour guide; he'd already walked the s.h.i.+p from the highest deck to the lowest, including the engine rooms, storage area and the bridge.

But it was different, seeing the s.h.i.+p through Alexi's eyes, greeting the people she knew and learning bits and pieces of history.

They pa.s.sed the exclusive suite, where an Egyptian prince had once stayed, and the "executive" suite, where two different United States presidents had enjoyed vacations.

On the Promenade Deck, Alexi asked, "Have you seen the chapel?

"Oh, yes," she said, answering her own question. "Of course you have. But have you been in it?"

"Locked every time I went by," he replied.

"You must've gone there at night. It's open during the day, and a lot of the time, you'll find the Reverend Mike in there."

"I'd like to meet the Reverend Mike," he told her. He recognized the name from the s.h.i.+p's list of crew and pa.s.sengers. Since the Reverend Michael Hudson had not been a "possible suspect," he hadn't continued to investigate him.

As they walked toward the chapel, Alexi explained that the services held there were nondenominational. The Reverend Mike was a great guy-and gave great sermons. "More like casual conversations, really."

Jude expected someone older with graying hair.

The Reverend Mike was about forty, average height and size, with a ready smile and warm brown eyes that seemed to match the shade of his hair. He greeted them enthusiastically. Jude didn't think that Mike believed he was with the cruise lines; he didn't, however, press him about it. Instead, he told him about the chapel.

"Original to the s.h.i.+p. Whether times were good or bad, it was meticulously maintained. The walls are paneled in mahogany and the porthole is Tiffany stained gla.s.s. The art on the walls is from various churches worldwide. There-see? Mother and Son? The artist's unknown, but it's from Our Lady of Mercy, a church on the outskirts of Istanbul, which was built in 222 AD. The medieval knighting scene is from a Medici holding in Florence. The pews are cherrywood. I'm telling you, sometimes I feel like a curator instead of a minister!"

"You love the s.h.i.+p, I take it."

"I do. I'm signing on for just one more contract, though. I'm planning to get married and settle down. I've been offered a position in a nondenominational church on the outskirts of the French Quarter. Besides, it's time to allow someone else, a new minister, to come aboard the Destiny."

"Congratulations," Jude said.

The Reverend Mike laughed. "A bit premature. I haven't found the girl yet, but I figured I won't find her if I don't settle down." He smiled over at Alexi. "I did meet a few exceptional young women on this s.h.i.+p, but alas-not in the same frame of mind. Not looking for marriage just yet. And," he added, "you probably know they're whispering about you and Mr. Crow all over the s.h.i.+p." He turned to Jude. "If you and the other gentleman are executives with the company, I should tell you that my time on the Destiny has been excellent. Celtic American is definitely a superior cruise line."

"That's gratifying to hear," Jude said. Alexi had wandered over to the side, where a number of holy books were displayed, including beautifully bound versions of the Old Testament, the Bible in Latin and a King James edition of the Bible.

"Are you available every day, Reverend Mike?" Jude asked.

"Yup. All day, every day. And please, call me Mike. There's a buzzer to reach me if I'm not in the chapel or my office. But...somehow I'm not getting the feeling that you're looking for spiritual consultation."

"Just asking about the chapel," Jude said. "With all the valuable art here...I was thinking that, unfortunately, it might be dangerous to leave it open."

"I keep an eye on the chapel," Mike a.s.sured him. "So do our security people. David Beach, our head of security, as I'm sure you know, has a special affinity for the chapel. He had an uncle who served here as chaplain when the Destiny was being used as a hospital s.h.i.+p during World War II. But as far as access to the chapel goes, I have a key, David has a key and the captain does. When I'm not nearby-my office is the cabin right next door here-the chapel is locked. And only three people can open it."

"Good to hear," Jude said.

"So, that's really it? You two didn't steal up here in hopes of a whirlwind wedding? An elopement?" Mike asked.

Alexi almost dropped the Bible she'd been holding.

He was astonished to find himself stuttering.

"We-we've actually just met."

"I'm... I'm giving him a tour," Alexi murmured.

"I mean, she's wonderful, of course," Jude said quickly.

Mike laughed, raising his hands. "Sorry, sorry! You're an attractive couple and I get the impression you'd be well suited. But I didn't mean to put anyone on the spot. It's the way you seem to communicate... Anyway, I'm always around, if you do want me for anything. And it's been a pleasure to meet you."

Mike thrust out a hand, and Jude shook it. "Thank you for your time."

"Absolutely. That's part of the job description. Listen to people, and give them all the time they need," Mike said cheerfully.

Alexi gave him an awkward smile, and Jude realized they were both fl.u.s.tered, a little off.

"The infirmary?" she asked as they left.

"Sure," he said.

"It's just down here, past the Egyptian Room." The Egyptian Room was one of the larger lounges where private functions were held-along with bingo and a few other s.h.i.+pboard offerings. It was a beautiful room, more like an old adventurers' club than anything, with s.h.i.+mmering gold and gla.s.s and marble.

Jude hadn't noticed that there was a hallway directly to the side, but that might've been because of a sign hanging from the ceiling that said Staff Only and the velvet rope that served as a barrier.

Alexi had no problem unhooking the rope. "I am staff," she told him with a shrug. "Jensen Hardy arranges tours of the s.h.i.+p and he or his people bring guests here. Other than that, it's cordoned off because it's been maintained in its historic state."

"I see."

Down the hall Alexi opened a door that led to a reception area with a nurses' desk and right behind that, a gla.s.s-paned room with the word Triage on it.

Jude didn't look farther than the desk, though, because it was occupied.

The woman sitting there wore a white nurse's cap over short curly brown hair, and a white nurse's uniform. Jude wasn't much on style, but he knew that the outfit was long outdated, nothing like the hospital attire in different colors or decorated with cute pandas or monkeys that nursing staff seemed to wear in the twenty-first century.

"Alexi!" the woman said, smiling broadly. "How nice." She stared at Jude, obviously curious, and then grinned slowly. "Well, h.e.l.lo, handsome!" she said. The nurse looked back at Alexi.

"He knows I'm here," she said. There was the merest hint of a question in her words.

"Clear as anything," Alexi told her. "Barbara Leon, I'd like you to meet Jude McCoy. People on the s.h.i.+p believe he's a Celtic American executive, masquerading as a tourist, but he's really an FBI agent. Jude, Miss Barbara Leon, one of the finest nurses to serve on this s.h.i.+p, in wartime or anytime."

Jude felt a split second's freeze; Alexi was so comfortable with this. She introduced Barbara Leon with the same ease and warmth she might use when introducing Clara Avery.

The woman was dead! In reality, there was no one sitting at that desk. There was nothing but air...and the whispered memory of a life. It was like the scent of perfume on the breeze when someone had already pa.s.sed by.

He snapped out of it quickly. "Miss Leon," he said. "A pleasure."

"Who's here?"

He heard another voice, the sound raspy.

It wasn't real, either. Not to other people, anyway. Not to most people. It was something that sounded in his head.

A man in a World War II private's uniform had come to lean against the doorway. He looked warily at Jude and said, "Alexi, what are you doing?"

"I brought a friend to meet you. He needs help with...a situation. Jimmy, this is Special Agent Jude McCoy of the FBI. A serial killer has been at work in the United States, and we believe he's on board this s.h.i.+p. Jude, this is Private Jimmy Estes."

"Pleased to meet you. I'd offer to shake, but that usually just upsets people," Jimmy said.

"Pleased to meet you, too," Jude responded.

Another man came up behind Jimmy. Alexi introduced him as Private Frank Marlowe.

"I was a cop before I joined the service," Marlowe said. "How can we help?"

"We'd greatly appreciate any observations you can make," Alexi answered.

"Of course," Frank said. "I haven't seen anything suspicious yet, but I'm not sure what we'd be looking for."

Later, Jude would wonder about the fact that he'd taken one of the chairs at the desk and told the three ghosts in the infirmary what he knew. They listened gravely, promising they'd find a way to monitor the suspects.

"Those medallions...my dad had a set," Jimmy said. "He was so proud of them. He bought them for me. Said with all those saints, no matter how hard the days were, I could find some comfort. He was right. Unfortunately, I lost them at a camp near Paris."

"Small world," Barbara said.

"Do you think the medallions are objects he uses just to make his kiss-my-a.s.s displays for the cops?" Jimmy asked. He blushed. "Sorry about the language, Barbara, Alexi. It, uh, slipped out."

"That's okay," Alexi said.

Nurse Barbara Leon was shaking her head. "Those medallions have to mean something to this killer." She turned to Jude. "I a.s.sume someone is looking into that?"

"The best behavioral scientists in the world," Jude replied. "Plus, we've had our offices working with all the technological resources at our disposal, and law enforcement all over the US and in Mexico-because of the situation in Cozumel-has a hand in it."

"I'd put my money on the medallions," Barbara said thoughtfully. "They have to be the clue you need."

"What else can you tell us about them?" Alexi asked, glancing at Jude. She herself knew almost nothing about them.

And he'd been struggling with whether or not to tell her and Clara that the saints' medallions for musicians and actors hadn't been used by the killer yet. There were, of course, many other singers and actresses aboard the s.h.i.+p, but he happened to know the two of them.

It shouldn't matter.

It wouldn't influence his work ethic, but it did matter.

"There's a new fellow on board, by the way," Jimmy said suddenly, swinging around to face Alexi.

"Yes. He was one of the killer's victims," Alexi said.

Barbara appeared perplexed. "And he's here? Does Captain McPherson know?"

Captain McPherson. The captain who'd died at his retirement party on the s.h.i.+p!

"I'm not sure," Alexi said. "His name is Byron Grant. But I haven't seen him since he managed to communicate with Jude and me."

Jimmy nodded. "Ah, a beginner. Yeah, it takes some time. Well, don't worry, we'll be courteous and welcoming. Captain doesn't like new folk aboard, though, unless they pay their respects."

"I'll tell him that when I see him again," Alexi said. "Thank you all."

"We'll be especially vigilant," Barbara promised.

Jude looked back as they left; he felt that he'd entered a time warp. The men lounged against the door frame. Nurse Barbara sat at her station. If he'd had a camera and taken a picture, anyone would've sworn that it was shot in the 1940s.

Except there would've been no one in it. Or maybe there would... He'd heard a story-one he'd ignored or chalked up to a prankster-about John Brown, hanged at Charleston, West Virginia, after he was captured at his raid at Harpers Ferry. The long-dead man had apparently shown up in a picture taken there, a photograph that should have been a shot of a tourist couple-and no one else.

Prankster? Park ranger? More than likely.

And yet...

He turned to Alexi. "I'll get you back to your cabin."

As he spoke, the s.h.i.+p lurched, at a far greater angle than it had taken before.

Alexi was thrown against him; he was thrown against the wall.

For a moment her eyes met his.

And he wanted to stay where he was, just stay there and feel her body close to his.

The captain's voice came over the s.h.i.+p's loudspeaker. "Sorry, folks, we're hitting a bit of weather. We'll do our best to skirt around it. Seems a storm has whipped up in the Gulf. We're asking that you all take care when you move throughout the s.h.i.+p. Nothing to worry about. The Destiny has often weathered harsh wind and pelting rain. Still, take care moving about and I'll keep you informed."

They heard a flurry of voices coming from the hallways and lounges.

"Let me get you back to your cabin," Jude said urgently. They straightened, both flushed-and both, obviously, feeling a bit awkward.

"Sure," she said huskily, and they set off.

The waves continued to be hard; they walked like a pair of drunks.

As he lingered just outside her cabin door, he realized there were many things he wanted to say to her.

None of them came to his lips at the moment.

He smiled. "I'll be back for you later," he said.