Haunted Destiny (14 page)

They'd received a report from Beach that Osprey was in his cabin and that Roger Antrim and his wife, Lorna, were dining in the sushi restaurant.

Alexi and Clara were greeted by the waitress, who obviously knew them from previous sailings; she was pleasant when she met Jude—especially when Alexi introduced him as an executive with the cruise line.

They chatted with her for a few minutes.

Clara had either genuinely let go of her fears, or she really was an excellent actress; she spoke about the show, and the hostess mentioned a number of songs she'd love to hear Clara and Alexi do together at the piano bar.

The restaurant was only half-full, so they had their choice of table.

Jude was almost sure that Alexi knew they were in the sushi place for a reason, and that seemed to be reinforced for her when they walked by the table where Roger was sitting with Lorna.

Roger came to his feet as he saw them pass by, greeting them all. Lorna had remained seated; she looked pale and he wondered if she was distraught.

“Is the movement of the ship getting to you?” he asked her.

“Poor Lorna!” Roger said. “She's usually a good sailor! But this is pretty rocky, even for us.”

“I'm fine, thank you.” Lorna smiled weakly at Jude.

“Have you taken anything for it? I know some of the meds are supposed to be taken before you sail, but they could certainly give you something in the infirmary,” Alexi said.

“Perhaps I'll go after we eat. Well, after Roger eats,” Lorna said. “I'm not so sure raw fish is what I need right now.”

“Some crackers, perhaps?” Clara suggested.

“Yes, they're getting me some.” Lorna picked up her cup. “And this green tea seems to help.”

“Well, take care. And do go to the infirmary,” Jude said again.

“I will,” she promised.

“I'll walk her there myself!” Roger said. Lorna didn't look at her husband.

With Alexi in the lead, they headed to a table near the back. Jude made a point of taking a chair by the wall so he could watch Roger.

They ordered sushi, sashimi, two shrimp rolls and small salads with an Asian peanut dressing. The food was delicious.

Jude kept an eye on Roger and his wife while making small talk with Clara and Alexi. They discussed the current state of the city of New Orleans, hoping that the storm wouldn't escalate and make landfall. Roger and Lorna were arguing, Jude saw.

They kept their voices low, but the intensity of their words was reflected in their tight, angry expressions.

What was the fight about?

Did Lorna suspect her husband of something?

He wished he could hear.

Lorna suddenly stood and spoke briefly to Roger, then spun around and exited the restaurant.

Roger rose quickly and went after her.

Jude got up, too, and said, “Stay here. Don't go anywhere until I return.”

He followed them, aware that one of the ship's security staff—assigned to watch them—had a large piece of sushi roll in his mouth and was struggling to swallow, dig out his wallet and go after them.

Jude was way ahead of him.

9

“W
ell,” Clara murmured. “What do you suppose
that's
all about? I've never seen those two have a squabble before—and they've been on cruises I've worked at least a dozen times.” She looked at Alexi pointedly. “Jude didn't run off to be a marriage counselor, did he? I know he considers Roger a suspect. But it doesn't make sense. He's married. He has a lovely wife, grown children.”

“The BTK killer,” Alexi said. “His wife had no clue.”

“And you think Roger Antrim...”

“No, I don't think Roger Antrim. I'm just saying it's possible.”

Their waitress, walking to the table next to them with a large sashimi “boat,” suddenly veered sharply to the right, thrown by the pitching of the ship.

“It's getting
really
rough,” Clara said.

“Yes,” Alexi agreed, but she wasn't actually paying attention. Hank Osprey was coming in—accompanied once again by the tiny brunette who seemed very fond of short skirts and high heels.

The ship swayed violently.

The brunette fell against Hank and giggled as he caught her, stopping her fall.

Hank smiled, straightening her.

“Really?” Clara whispered. “Hank?”

Alexi turned to her friend. “Clara! I have no idea. I'm curious about who his friend is. I've never seen her with him before this trip, and apparently she's in her own cabin.”

“How do you know that?” Clara asked. Then she waved a hand in the air. “Never mind. I'm going to assume that they're checking up on Hank
and
any woman he's with.”

Alexi nodded. “But she got back to her room just fine the other night.”

“Was she sailing alone and met Hank? Or did she come aboard with him?”

“I don't know. Jude and Jackson might know, but I certainly don't.” She turned from watching the happy couple. “At least they seem to be happy.”

“I guess,” Clara said with a shrug. “But she definitely seems to be working Hank.”

“Maybe she really cares about him.”

“Maybe she really cares about his money. Watch it. They're coming over!”

And they were. Hank had seen Alexi and Clara and was beaming as he came toward them, hand in hand with his young, leggy brunette.

“Hey, you two. I never see you in here.”

“I love sushi,” Clara told him.

“Well, sure, what's not to love?” Hank drew the brunette forward. “I don't think you've met Ginny yet. Ginny, I'd like to introduce you to Alexi Cromwell and Clara Avery, friends from the many times I've sailed Celtic American. Ladies, Ginny Monk.”

“How do you do?” Ginny said to the two of them, smiling. “I saw you both sing at the piano bar. You're so good together.”

“Thanks,” Alexi said. “Want to join us?” she asked, gesturing at their table. “Be happy to,” Hank said. He pulled out a chair for Ginny and started to sit but then frowned when he saw that there was already a third setting.

“We're not interrupting you, are we?” Hank asked. “Someone else here?”

“Jude McCoy,” Clara replied. She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “The Celtic American observer!”

She spoke in a natural, relaxed tone, as if she believed her own words. But of course, Clara was an actress.

Alexi hoped she could be as convincing.

“I'm not sure when he's coming back and we can just pull up an extra chair. Please, do join us.”

“Well, I'm already here,” Ginny said, grinning at Alexi.

Alexi realized that Hank didn't want to stay. But since Ginny had made herself comfortable, Hank sat down, too. He tried to shrug off his frown. “Are you worried about the storm?” he asked.

“I'm not,” Clara said. “I've sailed with Captain Thorne lots of times. He'll get us through.”

Ginny turned to Alexi. “What about you? Are you scared?”

“I've been through some rough weather, too,” she answered. “It's harder on the passengers than it is the crew. We tend to get lots of experience,” she added.

Ginny's eyes widened. “I admit I'm feeling kind of nervous now. I mean, I
have
seen the movie
Titanic
!”

She seemed sweet and innocent enough, Alexi thought. A little on the naive side, but friendly. Needless to say, her innocence could be an act. Alexi couldn't help wondering—considering how brilliant as Hank was reputed to be—why he didn't seek out someone more obviously on his intellectual level. But Hank had also tried, in his usual awkward way, to get involved with her and then Clara. He was rich and pleasant and nerdy. And he wasn't the type of man who easily entered conversations or easily had affairs. He certainly had trouble talking to more sophisticated women.

So Ginny might be just perfect for him.

“The good thing,” Alexi assured the young woman, “is that we're not going to run into any icebergs down here in the Caribbean.”

“No,” Ginny agreed, giggling. “No icebergs here. Well, I hate flying, too. A pilot friend told me once that it's like being in a boat. You know, waves in the water—waves of air when you're up in the sky. Although these seem like really
big
waves.”

“The winds are growing stronger,” Hank muttered. “The storm's going to reach hurricane force today. It's still just sitting over Cozumel—almost gyrating there, is how the forecasters described it. We should be hightailing our way to port instead of waiting out here.”

“They're trying to outrun the storm,” Clara said. “They can't tell yet which direction it's going to take.”

Hank grunted impatiently. “We could've made it to a safe port by now. But...I also understand their hesitation to move us in a specific direction. We could get trapped. Don't worry,” he told Ginny. “These ladies are right. Captain Thorne is the best in the business. And I'll do
my
best to make sure you're not frightened!”

Ginny gazed up at him adoringly. Hank flushed with pleasure and turned a look of pride on Clara and Alexi. He seemed to be saying, “See! I got this girl to like me and she's every bit as attractive as either one of you.”

Alexi thought that might be why he'd wanted to join them—to let them know he was desirable, even if they'd been foolish enough not to realize it.

“Thank goodness for you!” Ginny breathed.

“Are you two traveling together or did you meet on board?” Alexi asked.

“We met at the craps table in the ship's casino,” Ginny said. “I was rolling the dice, I looked up, and there he was!”

Alexi glanced at Clara. She could tell they were both wondering if Ginny hadn't known exactly who Hank Osprey was from the beginning—and if she hadn't planned to be at the craps table at exactly the right time.

But if she made Hank happy, what did it matter?

“That sounds very romantic,” she told them both.

“Eyes meeting across a crowded room,” Clara murmured.

“Yes!” Ginny said.

Suddenly, they all realized a waitress was standing there.

Hank quickly ordered for himself and Ginny. Ginny allowed him to, gazing at him with tender, approving eyes all the while.

Alexi wondered if Jude was coming back soon.

“How do you like sailing on the
Destiny
, Ginny?” Clara asked politely.

Ginny giggled again and turned to Hank. “I couldn't help but love it, could I?” she asked.

“I guess not,” Clara murmured, meeting Alexi's eyes.

Silence fell. Neither Hank nor Ginny seemed to notice.

“Um, what do you do for a living, Ginny?” Alexi asked.

“Pardon?” Apparently, Ginny had to tear her gaze away from Hank in order to hear.

“What do you do? Where are you from?” Alexi repeated.

“Inquiring minds want to know,” Clara said lightly.

“Oh, well... I'm a student,” Ginny said.

“Where are you going to school?” Alexi asked.

“Oh, I'm originally from Baton Rouge. I go to school in New Orleans. Loyola.”

“Great school,” Clara said, nodding.

“You went there, too?”

“No, I went to Carnegie Mellon,” Clara told her. “But I'm from New Orleans. And I know Loyola well.”

“Ginny's in hospitality management,” Hank explained proudly. “She could probably tell your Celtic American execs a thing or two about how to run a ship!”

“Oh,” Clara said. “What would you say to the executives at Celtic American, Ginny? What do you think could be improved?”

Ginny laughed. “The infirmary—and that would be it. I went to get some Dramamine, and it took forever. Naturally, that was after we started getting the horrible weather. And I guess most cruise ships have one doctor and one nurse, so...oh, well. If I ran a cruise ship, I'd make sure there was more than one doctor on board.”

“Poor Ginny was so sick! It was terrible. That's why she wasn't with me at the piano bar last night,” Hank said.

“I begged him to go ahead without me,” Ginny said hastily. Maybe something in Clara's and Alexi's expressions told her they were thinking he shouldn't have left her if she was that sick. She winced and grinned, almost at once. “I don't... I really didn't want Hank seeing me— Well, there's no delicate way to put it. I didn't want him to see me puking all over the place! It's hideous. So ugly.”

“You could never be ugly to me!” Hank vowed.

Clara glanced at Alexi.

“I wonder what's taking Jude so long?” Clara murmured.

* * *

Lorna Antrim had gone straight to the infirmary, which was on the Promenade Deck, wedged between a perfume store and a cupcake shop and not far from the historic infirmary.

She'd walked in immediately.

Roger had followed her.

Jude was twenty feet from the entrance, ready to follow them both, deciding to ask for a motion sickness remedy himself as an excuse—when the door opened and Roger stepped back into the hallway.

He was scowling; he didn't see Jude.

For a long moment he stood staring at the display in the window of the cupcake store.

He seemed to have blanked out.

Then he walked over to the infirmary again and started to open the door.

He didn't.

Instead, he walked into the hallway again and stood in front of the perfume store window.

Jude waited a few minutes, then casually sauntered by.

“Roger, is everything all right?” he asked.

Roger turned and seemed to need a minute to focus. “What? Oh, yes. Well, you know, Lorna's in the infirmary. I'm just hoping they can help her.”

“I'm sure they will.”

“I hope so. I asked about arranging for a helicopter to get us off the ship, but that's a no-go. They're not sending anything out in this weather. And...I offered a great deal of money.”

“It's going to be rough,” Jude said. “I'll bet Lorna will be fine after they've given her something for the motion sickness. She's a seasoned traveler.”

“Yes, she is.” Roger was quiet for a minute. He shrugged. “At the moment, though, and I hate to say it, but I feel a bit like we're on the
Titanic
. The ship's rocking and rolling as if we were on an amusement park ride—zero to sixty in no time—and we're all walking around, people shopping, eating, drinking, gambling as though nothing's wrong. They don't seem to notice that they walk down hallways—and then crash into them.”

“We're going to be fine,” Jude said in a comforting voice.

“Well, I guess you
would
say that. You're a CEO with Celtic American, right? But think of the liability if everything's
not
fine,” Roger said.

Frankly, Jude didn't know a hell of a lot about being any kind of a CEO.

He smiled. “Act of God,” he said with a shrug.

“Oh, come on!”

“Everything's going to be fine,” Jude repeated. “We're on a ship that's survived war, mammoth storms and much more. We're with a seasoned captain who knows the Caribbean better than a computer mapping program.”

Roger studied him. “Of course, I'm not really frightened. I love sailing. I don't mind a little pitch and sway. I guess I'm just worried about Lorna.”

“I'll see if I can hurry things along for her in the infirmary,” Jude said.

He could see that David Beach's security guard, assigned to keep an eye on Roger, was now in front of the cupcake shop.

He walked into the infirmary.

It was different from most of the ship; the nurses' station and the triage area were all chrome and glass, and the floor was tiled, as it was in any modern hospital.

About twenty people were crowded into the waiting room, some of them filling out papers.

A sign on the nurses' desk read, “If you're seasick and you feel you need the doctor, please fill out your paperwork.”

A harried nurse was reassuring the passengers and answering their questions, disappearing behind a door, then bustling back out again.

Lorna sat in one of the waiting room chairs, her head resting against the wall. The woman next to her stood up as the nurse called her name, and Jude quickly slid into her seat.

Lorna opened her eyes; after a second, she smiled. “Don't worry. We're not going to have our attorneys sue you,” she told him.

She meant the Celtic American line, of course.

“I'm not worried about being sued,” he said. “I'm worried about you.”

“It's just a little queasiness,” she said.

“It's more than that, isn't it?” She closed her eyes again. He found himself admiring her. She kept herself fit; she was a very attractive woman who was embracing her age. He wasn't an expert, but there were no telltale plastic surgery signs on her face. She looked over at him. “Are you married, Mr. McCoy?”

“I was,” he replied. “I'm divorced.”