“Spring break, a thousand years ago.”
Jackson shrugged. “Then you should remember it, well enough. Anyway, let’s hope the hell we’re off by then—with him in cuffs. Because if we’re not....”
“He’ll kill again,” Jude said quietly. He looked up at the behemoth they were about to board.
The Destiny.
She wasn’t one of the largest ships sailing the seas by far. She was, Jude knew—thanks to the publicity at her most recent relaunch—the pride of the Celtic American line, owned by an Irish American who had come to the States as a college student and gone on to become a billionaire. The ship was old, commissioned in the late 1930s by an English lord who was hoping to give the Queen Mary a run for her money. The timing, for obvious reasons, had been bad. She wound up serving as a hospital ship during World War II, her cruising days curtailed by the devastation facing the world. Following the war, she’d gone through numerous hands until she’d been purchased and completely refurbished by Celtic American. The company specialized in historic ships, making that history part of their charm.
No, she wasn’t one of the largest. She still carried about seven hundred crew members.
And over twenty-four hundred passengers.
She was, in essence, a small city.
Jude looked at Crow, then studied the ship again.
“What?” Crow asked.
“He might be feeling the heat’s on him now. And that means he just might kill again before we reach our next port.”
*
“I really think you should be playing more ballads. Old ballads,” Minnie Lawrence said, her painted red lips forming a pretty pout. “This is, after all, a piano bar.”
Minnie had draped herself on one of the velvet lounge chairs near the piano. She was beautifully clad in a slinky blue gown with a matching headband around her short blonde hair. She managed to smile while maintaining her pout, behaving as the 1930s idol she’d once been. But she was truly sweet and very charming. Alexi could understand why she’d been so beloved in her day.
“I believe she means old ballads,” Blake Dalton said, coming behind Minnie to lean rakishly against the chair as they both stared at Alexi Cromwell with their most beguiling smiles. “Well, what you’d call old ballads, at any rate!”
Blake definitely had some Valentino mystery-charisma, as well.
“I do my best,” Alexi assured the two, sorting through the book she kept for the passengers who wanted to sing. She looked up at them and sighed. “Honestly. I do. But this is the twenty-first century. And I play our passengers’ requests. That’s my job.”
“I’m a passenger, and I’m requesting!” Minnie said.
But you’re a dead passenger! Alexi wanted tosay.
She refrained.
“I do a smashing version of ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow,’” Minnie said. “And it was in The Wizard of Oz. Surely, everyone knows that.”
“Or ‘In the Mood’!” Blake said. “Minnie sings that very well indeed.”
“You do way too much of that new fellow, that Billie Joel man,” Minnie said. “I just can’t fix on a key with him.”
“Most people these days don’t consider Billie Joel to be a new fellow and I’m sorry, but I never go a night without someone wanting ‘Piano Man.’ But a number of people really enjoy older numbers and ask for them, too. How about this? I promise I’ll ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ tonight. How’s that?” Alexi asked.
Before Blake or Minnie could reply, a man came tearing through the Algiers Saloon, racing through the bar area—employees only—to leap over a neighboring sofa and continue running down the hallway of the St. Charles deck.
He moved so swiftly that Alexi never saw his face. She had a fleeting impression of his height and appearance—and something a little ghastly. He looked as if he wearing make-up for a Shakespearean play or a classic Greek drama.
Gray sweatshirt, blue jeans, about six feet, maybe around two hundred pounds.
“Well, I never!” Minnie sniffed.
“How incredibly rude,” Blake said, trembling with the indignity of it all.
“We’ve seen plenty of rude. At least he didn’t jump over the sofa where you two are sitting!” Alexi told them, lowering her head so they couldn’t see her smile.
Sometimes, guests sensed the pair of ghosts. She would see them shiver and look around, remind themselves that they were on a floating island with thousands of people around them. She knew it disturbed both Blake and Minnie when people walked through them. It didn’t hurt them—they simply didn’t like it. Blake once explained to her that if felt as if someone had shoved you carelessly in a crowd. It was rude, just rude. “Some staff member who’s late reporting in, maybe,” Alexi murmured. “Anyway, my friends, I’m going to my cabin while the stampede of boarding takes place. I’ll see you soon.”
Alexi rose, scooping up her book, laptop and extra music pages. She smiled at Blake and Minnie. “I promise, we’ll start off with Judy Garland,” she assured them.
“Lovely!” Minnie called after her.