Haunted Destiny (26 page)

Hank laughed softly. “What do you need to know?”

“Where they are, Hank, the security guards you killed? We've assumed, of course, that you threw their bodies into the ocean.”

“Well, of course. But prove something like that! It's a big ocean. And I can't tell you how ridiculously easy it was to get them out on deck, even in the storm. I mean, I'm Hank Osprey. I come up to a security man begging for help and the idiot follows me like a puppy—right over the guardrail and into the drink. They didn't matter. They weren't important.”

“But Flora Winters. No medallion, but you still left her in the chapel?”

“She could've had a medallion, I suppose. I just didn't have one for her. The medallions were special, anyway—intended for certain people. Flora was...well, she was a traitor. She would've gotten the name of Tony Cass when she talked to her husband's accountant. In fact, I'm afraid she might already have known. Or guessed. She certainly asked me enough questions that weren't any of her business. Tony, unfortunately, died in a hit-and-run car accident. How sad,” he said with mock sorrow. “Still, I felt it was best to see her meet up with her husband. I do admit I couldn't quite throw her overboard. I should have, though.”

“I told you, Hank. Even geniuses make mistakes. What about Ginny? Ginny Monk? Did you kill her? Will we find her body?”

“Ginny is a good girl,” Hank said.

“So she's alive,” Jude murmured.

“She's sleeping. She knows how to love a man, stay with him, do what he says at all times.”

“She's a part-time stripper in a club on Bourbon Street,” Jude said bluntly.

“No!” Hank shouted.

“And if you were to find out that what I'm saying is the truth, would you kill her? If she
is
a stripper—but she's ready to obey you in exchange for all that money? Because, if she's with you for the money, Hank, she won't stay forever.”

“And she would've died if she left me!” Hank snapped.

“Hank, you have no remorse at all, do you? You had a plan, sick and crazy though it was. And if other people happened to get in your way, well...they just didn't matter.”

“No one matters,” Hank told Jude quietly but with conviction. “I'm a genius. I'm a rare human being. Others...well, seriously. How much could those fools matter?”

“Every human life is special, Hank.”

“To you, maybe,” Hank said with a shrug. “I'll agree that in her way, Alexi is special. She gets a medallion.”

“No.” Jude shook his head. “Alexi doesn't get a medallion. Now, it's your choice. You let her go and step away, and I take you in—or I shoot you right here.”

Hank was growing more and more agitated.

But he hadn't killed her yet!

And yet, she felt the blade of his knife against her throat. She thought she smelled something tinny. The scent of her own blood.

“I'll kill her before you can shoot me,” Hank said.

“No, I don't think so,” Jude said calmly. “I don't think
they'll
let you.”

“You freaks!” Hank screamed. “Who the hell do you believe is here? Some loser guy I killed in Alabama when he interrupted my work? An old whore and her whoremaster? What, and they'd fucking call
me
crazy? You're the sick bastards! You two are trying to tell me a dead man led you onto this ship—and that he and his ghost buddies are going to kill me now?”

“That's not exactly what I'm saying,” Jude told him. “You see,
I'm
going to kill you now. They're just going to help.”

“You're sick!” Hank roared again. “The dead are...dead!”

“You know they're not, Hank. You know they've been watching you. You've felt them. You've felt Byron. He really hates you,” Jude said. “Frankly, he didn't learn until now that you're the one who killed him. All Byron knew was that his killer had a ticket to board this ship. But you see, Hank, there were only so many people on this ship who might've been in all the cities where you killed. Odd, huh? You like to travel on the Celtic American line, and a Celtic American ship happened to be in the port cities where the women were killed just before their bodies were discovered. The killer had to have a job that allowed him to be in a number of places—or he had to be a very rich man, one who could afford to go wherever he wanted. Everyone slips up, Hank. And you slipped up here, on the
Destiny
. Although I will admit killing that poor woman in Mexico—and getting her into that church!—took some planning. But now you've finally messed up. You thought you were so smart. Either that, or you didn't plan to get away. Either way, I don't give a damn. It's over for you.”

“Not until I kill Alexi,” Hank snarled.

“What was it with the medallions, Hank? I'm just not seeing you as a religious man,” Jude said.

Hank gave Jude a crooked smile. “You want to know about the medallions? I've already told your
girlfriend
and now I'll tell you. My grandfather originally had a set. He fought in World War II. Don't know exactly what happened to those, but he told me what they meant. He warned me that there are bad women out there, women who don't deserve to live. He said I'd see the difference and that the bad ones... I shouldn't fall for them, that they were the kind who stripped a man of his soul and everything else. Not like my grandmother or my mother. So, you see, I realized when he died that he wanted the medallions around the necks of women who need to be punished.” Hank took a deep breath. “I managed to get hold of another set from Flora's husband.”

“It's interesting that your grandfather never said anything about murder being a bad thing,” Jude said drily. “And he must not have known that sometimes, those who were murdered come back. And some of them are here—ready and waiting for you to join them.”

Hank stared at Jude in shock. “You're fucking crazy! I already told you that. Get away from me now. Buy Alexi some time. Because every extra second is precious. Tell him, Alexi. Tell him to drop his gun. Then I'll let you live for a few more minutes.”

“She's not going to die, Hank,” Jude said. “Don't you see Zach? He was her fiancé. He loved her, Hank. And she loved him. He lost his life, but you know something about him? He earned a Purple Heart. He died saving children. I guarantee you he's not going to let Alexi die.”

Alexi looked from Zach to Jude. She managed to smile.

“Maybe I'm supposed to go now,” she said softly.

“No,” Zach said, his spirit walking closer to where she stood. He was just across the piano from her.

For a moment she saw him clearly. Saw the kindness and gentleness in his eyes, and she remembered how much she'd loved him, and how they'd learned what it meant to love.

She'd seen ghosts all her life.

She'd never been able to see him before; she'd never been able to say goodbye
.

And now he was here.

He smiled at her, unafraid for her—despite the man with a knife at her throat.

“No, Alexi,” he said again. “I do love you. I always will. But you have to live. That's why I'm here. You have to live.”

She would have shaken her head; she couldn't. Tears stung her eyes, tears that had nothing to do with fear.

She couldn't move at all. The knife was too close to her throat.

She looked at Zach, feeling the blade as she spoke. “I won't buy time, Hank. I don't need to. I think Jude will shoot you, and you will die. Maybe I will, too. I don't think so. But if you don't release me this second,
you
will.”

“Alexi,” Jude warned her.

“Now?” Zach asked, turning to look at Jude.

Jude nodded. “Now,” he said.

“What? What the hell...” Hank began.

Zach made a leap and a roll that took him over the piano. Blake, Minnie and Byron Grant went swiftly into action, all of them hurtling themselves at Hank. Alexi felt the knife at her throat, but she also felt as if the powerful storm raging outside swept onto the ship.

What happened was uncanny.

Hank's head seemed to be pulled back.

Just enough from her to give Jude a clear target.

He took aim.

And fired.

Alexi let out a long primal scream as Hank was ripped cleanly away from her. His head exploded in a spray of blood and he dropped to the floor.

The knife clattered at her feet.

She collapsed to her knees, stunned, her ears ringing, her body covered in blood. She was aware that people were shouting, that the St. Charles Deck had come alive with the sound of footsteps and security officers rushing around.

And she was aware that the Archangel was dead.

There'd been no other choice; it had been his life or hers.

She wanted to feel grief and horror at a life that was lost...

But all she could feel was relief for herself, and for others who might have died.

And to be grateful for Jude and for the dead—the ghosts of the
Destiny
, and from her own life—who'd come to save her from a killer's knife.

Epilogue

The next day as storm conditions abated and the
Destiny
made for a safe port, Jude was finally able to be with Alexi.

Of course, with Hank dead and the danger gone, he'd run to her and fallen on his knees, taking her in his arms. He'd held her until Jackson and David Beach had arrived with a slew of security men. He had to give Jackson a report, as the ship's doctor had come and tried to tend to Alexi—who hadn't wanted tending to. She was worried about the people she'd seen on the ground. Johnny, Simon... Were there others?

Simon and Johnny were going to be fine; the ship's doctor had reassured her of that. Simon, however, wouldn't be dancing for a while. He had a broken leg. The other ship's security guard who'd been injured, Marty Holm, was going to be all right, too. He'd been taken to what was now a fully occupied infirmary. The doctor would not be sleeping that night, nor would the four nurses who staffed the place.

They'd be very busy throughout the final hours of this sailing.

The Reverend Mike had come to the St. Charles Deck, to comfort Alexi. And then Clara and Roger and Jackson... Finally Jackson had said they had the entire situation mapped and reported, and Alexi was free to leave with Clara.

Jude knew that Alexi couldn't wait to shower—perhaps for hours—to cleanse herself of the blood.

He also knew it was more than blood that she needed to wash away.

There'd still been truly tragic events to deal with that night—the murders of Flora Winters and David Beach's two security guards.

Jude had been sad to tell Beach that, yes, Hank Osprey had confessed to the killings. He hated that they'd never find the bodies of the men who had been lost; the sea was unforgiving.

The ghosts of the
Destiny
had gone, fading into the ethereal glow of the auxiliary lights as the others raced onto the deck. Jude hadn't been able to even think about them.

Everything had been too chaotic, too busy. At least by then, he'd known Alexi was safe.

And so was Clara.

The Archangel's killing spree was over now, and they could all mourn the dead.

He was beyond exhausted at eight the next morning when he knocked on Clara's cabin door, anxious to see Alexi. He was rumpled and his hair was tousled and he was, frankly, a mess.

Alexi didn't seem to care. She opened the door and threw her arms around him. She didn't speak; they held each other close for several minutes. He breathed in the scent of her shampoo and soap, and for the first time, he began to shake.

“Oh...please, get a room,” Clara murmured. “I mean cabin. Oh, wait you have one. Before you go, I need a minute, Alexi.”

Alexi stepped back, and Clara threw herself at Jude, giving him a big hug.

“Thank you!” she said huskily. Then she pulled back. “I could've been the one he went for first—and I don't know if I could've done what Alexi did. Making him talk, distracting him... Thank you both. From me. From everyone.”

Jude shook his head. “Don't thank me for doing what we're supposed to be doing. I wish we'd learned the killer's identity before we lost others to him—Maria Sanchez, the security men, Flora. There's still...still a lot to deal with. I don't think Hank was the primary suspect in anyone's mind. Ah, here's a good note, though. Ginny Monk is fine—and, by the way, she does earn her living at a club on Bourbon Street. She wasn't lying about being a student, a part-time one, and plans to enroll full-time in the fall. However, she thought she might escape a life of difficult financial circumstances by following Hank Osprey. She's grateful to be going back to that life now.”

Clara pushed back a lock of blond hair. “And Simon? He's okay?”

Jude smiled. “We'll make him look like a true hero when we speak to the press. He'll have a chance to feel that he's a lot more than
just chorus
.”

Clara nodded. “Get out of here, you two. I heard that we've finally outrun the weather. Ralph and Larry were here earlier, and they've been out on deck. The sun is shining. There's still a breeze, but—”

“I'd like to go out on deck,” Alexi broke in.

“Me, too,” Jude agreed. “Let's do it.”

There were quite a few people on the Promenade Deck, sitting in lounge chairs and enjoying the day. Alexi generally liked the company of others but Jude realized that, just then, she didn't want to see anyone else. So he found a private place for them, a little nook between a storage area and a lifeboat. From there, they could gaze out over the sea. The waves were still white-tipped, the breeze was blowing quite fiercely.

But they could feel the sun and bask in its radiant light.

As Alexi stood by the rail, Jude slipped an arm around her shoulders. He didn't speak; he didn't tell her they'd get past it all. You never forgot events like this, but you learned to live with what had happened. He believed, with his whole heart, that they'd manage it together.

“You're part of the Krewe of Hunters now,” she eventually said. He nodded; Jackson had made the official invitation this morning.

“And I got to see Zach,” she went on. “I'd wanted to see him so badly. He was there, and then he was gone.” She turned to Jude. “You saw him, right? And you know they're there to help us.”

“I met Zach. He led me to you,” Jude told her.

“I still never really said goodbye.”

“Say goodbye now,” came a voice.

They both turned, toward the sun.

He was there, the man in the contemporary soldier's uniform who'd been there last night. The man without whom Jude might not have been able to save her life.

“Zach!” Alexi walked toward him and Zach reached out a hand.

Jude thought the ghost held her, and then he seemed to smile. “Goodbye, Alexi, I love you.” Inclining his head to the side, he said, “You know how I hate clichés, but...be happy. You've found a man who's worthy of you.” Jude smiled. He would've liked this man very much.

Zach looked past Alexi at Jude. “Say goodbye, too,” he said very softly.

And Jude realized that Zach wasn't alone. His breath caught; a sob tore from his throat as he looked down.

Because there was Lily, beautiful in the blue church dress in which she'd been buried, golden curls ringing her head beneath her blue-ribboned Sunday hat.

He dropped to his knees and felt Lily rush into his arms. Felt her little hands on his face, her kiss on his cheek. A moment later she drew back, smiling, and said, “I love you, Daddy. Be happy.” Imitating Zach's words. Exactly the
right
words to say.

“I love you. Oh, Lily, I love you so much, so very, very much...”

He felt one more kiss; then he briefly saw her standing with Zachary Wainwright, who had a gentle hand on her shoulder. The sun was pouring down on them both, and they seemed to become one with it. And then they were gone.

Alexi reached for him, helping him to his feet. He was a little unsteady.

They didn't speak.

They stayed on deck until the sun began to set.

Finally, arm in arm, they returned to Alexi's cabin.

They both knew they'd been very lucky. Their pasts had been laid to rest. The future was theirs, and it would be filled with love and hope, no matter what it might bring.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from
FLAWLESS
by Heather Graham.