Krewe Of Hunters: Haunted Destiny Part 22

10.

That night even the piano bar was slow.

The storm had put a damper on everything by then.

People who didn't normally get seasick were seasick.

The infirmary was the busiest place on board.

Captain Thorne had done a good job advising his pa.s.sengers, giving them all the information the meteorologist and the executives at Celtic American were giving him.

He'd been told to head toward the port of Galveston; as soon as they'd made a slight turn in that direction, the storm had taken another turn in a different direction. Now the cruise line's management was asking him to wait once again. Everyone hoped the vicious weather would leave Cozumel-which was being pummeled-and travel in yet another direction. That would allow the s.h.i.+p to make a speedy turn toward a safe port.

At first, people seemed to be okay. But since the storm had actually followed them, or so it seemed, they were now getting worried.

Bradley Wilc.o.x had actually been very decent to the employees in his sector, reminding them how important they were to s.h.i.+pboard morale. The Les Miz cast would still plan for the show, but further rehearsals would be cut short so they could entertain at other venues on the s.h.i.+p.

Alexi and other employees involved in individual or group entertainment would also be called upon. In Alexi's case, she'd be asked to do impromptu music the next morning with children and others waiting for a.s.sistance at the infirmary.

That was fine; she didn't mind being busy.

But as for that night...

They'd all been asked to "play on," even if only one pa.s.senger showed up at their venues.

It wasn't quite that bad for Alexi.

For one thing, since the rehearsal for Les Miz had ended early, she started her performance with the able a.s.sistance of Clara, Ralph, Simon and Larry and a few other members of the cast. Regulars, including Roger Antrim and Hank Osprey, were there.

So was Jude McCoy.

Couples with older children seemed to opt for the piano bar as a way for the family to stay together.

The Algiers Saloon filled to capacity, many people standing to enjoy her crowd-teasing or to sing along.

Blake and Minnie appeared after a few minutes.

They seemed subdued, as if they were watching over her like anxious parents. It bothered her that her ghosts were acting so worried. The storm hadn't bothered her, but the fact that the two of them were so uneasy made her uneasy, too. Except, of course, she had to hide it from the audience.

"All I can think of is the t.i.tanic," Clara whispered to her at the piano bench.

"There are some great stories about our s.h.i.+p," Alexi reminded her. "Like the one about that huge storm off Dover during the 1940s. The Destiny-laden with injured men!-made it safely to sh.o.r.e."

"I know, I know. I'm feeling a little frantic. This storm, and possibly a homicidal maniac on the s.h.i.+p, who might be after an actress and a musician."

"And a cook or a chef," Alexi pointed out. "But we have two FBI agents here on board with us."

"It is good to have Jude nearby," Clara murmured. "And the way he's watching over us... He's even ignoring that couple beside him."

Alexi frowned.

Blake and Minnie had moved closer to Jude.

"The pretty woman in the old-fas.h.i.+oned dress-and the nice-looking guy she's with?"

"Yeah. He's such a solid guy. I'm surprised he's not trying to rea.s.sure them. They seem kind of nervous."

Alexi had been playing a medley of tunes, but she stopped, managed to jokingly welcome some parents and children just joining them, and started again. She tried not to gawk at Clara.

But it was difficult not to stand up and ask Clara if she was sure she saw those two-and to explain that they didn't need rea.s.suring for themselves.

They were already dead.

"How about some Disney tunes?" a woman with a girl of about ten called out.

Alexi realized it had to be hard for parents to stay calm themselves-and to keep their children feeling secure.

"You got it!" she said happily. "And look! I have an 'Aurora' right by my side. Clara, how about 'Once Upon a Dream'?"

"I'll help her out," Larry Hepburn offered, coming up to join them. "Every Sleeping Beauty needs a prince!"

The kids seemed to love it, especially when, in the middle of the song, Larry went to the ten-year-old and danced her around the chairs. Larry caught her and helped her back into her chair just as the s.h.i.+p made one of its pitching movements and might have sent them both sprawling.

Alexi went on to do "Let it Go" from Frozen. Simon sang his favorite song from Hercules, and Ralph and Clara did a duet from Aladdin.

Around midnight the parents who'd allowed their children to stay up late, no doubt hoping they'd become sleepy, finally decided to call it quits.

The crowd was mainly an adult crowd then.

"They're both alone tonight. Did you notice that?" Clara asked Alexi.

Alexi had. Roger was there without Lorna.

And Hank was there without the woman he'd fallen in l.u.s.t or love or enchantment with.

"Do you think..." Alexi began.

"What?"

"Okay, so Roger's wife was behaving a little strangely, but they've been married for years. An argument here and there is bound to happen. And as for Ginny Monk-maybe she doesn't like piano bars," Alexi said. "Maybe she only claimed that she did to be polite. Or to please Hank."

"Speaking of Hank... Here he comes now," Clara said, forcing a smile. "I don't know how she feels about piano bars, but I do get the impression that Ms. Ginny Monk is very fond of our geek's money."

"Cynical, cynical!"

"And probably right!" Clara retorted.

"Hey!" Hank Osprey had reached them. He was smiling, apparently undisturbed by the fact that his drink had nearly slid off the table when he stood up. "Will one of you do 'Picture' with me?"

"'Picture,'" Clara repeated. "Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow. That's you, Alexi. You do a wicked Sheryl Crow!"

"Of course, Hank," Alexi said, handing him one of the mics.

She played and sang, studying Hank as she did. Yes, he was a geek. Yes, he was a multimillionaire. Not muscled, but not flabby. Not tall, but not short. Not handsome-but not ugly, either.

Tomorrow, she decided, she'd find out more about Ginny Monk.

What if Ginny was just after Hank's money?

What if Hank was a serial killer?

She looked over at Jude. He was studying Hank, as well. And, she realized, she could ask him about Ginny.

The FBI must be researching her already. Hank was on their radar, which meant that anyone with him would be, too.

The night wore on, and soon it was after one. She saw that Blake and Minnie remained in the room, still peering anxiously around. They didn't come up to tease her or ask her to do any numbers.

Minnie didn't even want to sing.

As the time to close the Algiers Saloon for the night approached, she noticed that Bradley Wilc.o.x was standing in the hallway, watching her.

To her surprise, he gave her a thumbs-up and mouthed the words, "Thank you."

And while Bradley apparently wanted to be pleasant, she had to force herself to smile in return.

Bradley was off the list, she reminded herself. He was off the list of suspects.

And yet, as he stood there, she saw someone slipping around behind him. It was Byron Grant.

And the way Byron studied Bradley...

Alexi was suddenly getting chills.

She had to keep playing.

And the band played on... As the t.i.tanic sank.

Her sheet music suddenly went flying as the s.h.i.+p heaved and swayed.

Clara hopped up quickly to retrieve the pages.

Someone in the audience giggled.

"Why don't you play the theme song from t.i.tanic!" someone else called out.

"Uh, that might be in bad taste at the moment," Alexi replied. "How about something fast and light?"

She began a Billy Joel song, and Roger jumped up to sing.

Jude just sat there until the night came to a close.

Watching all the while.

Jude noticed everything that went on and everyone who came in.

And yet...

He still knew nothing.

He saw how interested Byron Grant had been in the entertainment manager, Bradley Wilc.o.x.

But Bradley was in Texas when the New Orleans murders took place.

Every profiler in the FBI had been asked for an opinion. Each one seemed convinced that the murders were the work of one man. So was the Krewe's ME, Kat Sokolov.

The ghost of Byron Grant was equally convinced that the killer was on the s.h.i.+p.

There were medallions left in the Archangel's collection for a cook, a musician and an actor.

There were many cooks, musicians and actors aboard the Destiny.

Then again, the killer had always struck on land. Or so far he had. That didn't mean he wouldn't strike on the s.h.i.+p. While timetables-and Byron Grant-suggested that the killer was likely a habitual pa.s.senger or a crew member, they still really had no actual proof that he was even aboard. Byron claimed he'd seen a ticket in his killer's pocket. But maybe the killer had missed the sailing.

He might've been in the crowd outside the historic church in New Orleans. Someone they'd missed in their determination to follow Byron Grant.

Jude was frustrated; the Krewe and other agents in the home offices had been eliminating suspects, but he didn't seem to be getting anywhere.

He couldn't just barge into Roger and Lorna's stateroom and demand to know what was going on between them. And even if Ginny Monk was a gold digger stepping into some very dangerous territory, he couldn't stop Hank Osprey from seeing her.

And if she wanted to be with Hank, he could only warn her to be careful. He doubted she'd worry about the fact that Hank might be a murderer. Might. They had no proof; he didn't know if Hank was guilty of anything. To Ginny, the prospect of an affair-or perhaps marriage-with a man of his means might be worth the risk.

It wasn't until the bartender announced last call that Jensen Hardy made an appearance. He took a seat recently abandoned by a burly businessman and ordered a drink.

Jude admitted to himself that he just didn't like Jensen Hardy. He didn't like him because of the look in his eyes that morning when he'd realized Alexi was with Jude.

He had a thing for Alexi, or so it seemed.

But that didn't mean anything; Jude was sure that lots of men had a thing for Alexi Cromwell.

There was something about Hardy, though, something that disturbed him. And that predatory gleam in his eyes...