"Good night, then. Glad to know you're out here," Jude said.

"Good night, Agent McCoy."

Jude meant to go straight to his cabin.

He didn't.

Instead, he walked over to the chapel, looking in through the mullioned window.

The chapel was empty.

He turned and went to bed.

Earlier, up in their makeshift office, he and Jackson had thoroughly studied the information they had on the pa.s.sengers and crew, concentrating on their possible suspects.

But he'd also read up on Alexi Cromwell.

Her university years and professional career were impressive. She'd majored in music and drama and graduated with top marks. Then she'd worked at some of the most prestigious venues in the country. She'd been engaged.

Her fiance had died overseas. Soon after, she'd headed onto a ship.

Sailing away. One method of escape.

Work. Work was another. She'd done both.

It was the same for him. After his experience in the military and then the tragic loss of his daughter, he, too, had found consolation in work. Soon after that, he'd left the military and been accepted by the academy...

No, that wasn't entirely true. He'd always known he wanted to be in law enforcement.

Because of a family heritage dating back to the Battle of New Orleans and relatives still among the military bra.s.s, he'd applied to West Point. He'd been in the service when he met Kathy; when they got married, he'd started to ponder resigning. Then Lily had come along.

And the world had changed.

He stared out the one small portal in his tiny cabin. The night was eerie, the ship's lights a weak, yellow glow against the near-black of sea and sky.

Jude loved the ocean. Especially at night, when the horizon seemed to stretch on forever, when the sky appeared to reach infinity and all things seemed possible.

He'd actually slept well in the few hours he'd slept, thanks to the rolling of the ship. Despite the money spent to refurbish and maintain the Destiny, she was an old girl, and her stabilizers were nothing compared to those on the new megaliths sailing the seas.

He closed his eyes and remembered that he could never change the past.

And that might be why his obsession with work had grown.

He had, at times, saved lives. That ointment was the balm he needed for the wounds he bore.

He found himself thinking about the medallions again.

Medallions, in sets of thirteen, sold at a tiny church near the Vatican, decades ago. Medallions left on the dead.

Three remaining.

St. Lawrence, patron saint of cooks. St. Genesius, the patron saint of actors.

St. Cecilia, patron saint of singers and musicians.

He tossed and turned.

Alexi Cromwell was just down the hall from him.

He'd watched her through the night, admired her easy rapport with others, her ability to smile and laugh and tease. She was never hurtful. She just knew how to draw people into her fold. He'd watched her sing a duet with Clara Avery and he'd felt every nerve of awareness, realizing how much these two young women might appeal to the Archangel.

A lovely blonde actress...

A beautiful singer...

He reminded himself that a cook was still in danger, too, but Jackson had investigated all the kitchen staff that night, warning young women to stay together or with known friends. He and Jackson, all law enforcement, were determined to save everyone who might be at risk. To stop the Archangel.

And yet...

He knew he'd grown obsessed.

With Alexi. He had to protect her.

Capitan Miguel Suarez of the Cozumel police was a large, fit man. Both Jude and Jackson spoke decent Spanish, but Suarez waved off their attempts. "This is Cozumel, gentlemen," he'd told them. "You'll hear more English spoken here than you will in parts of Florida and Texas, and so on. Please, sit down. We'll speak in English."

Suarez had been briefed ahead of time. John Boulder, an agent a.s.signed to Cozumel out of the Miami office, was with them, as well. Like Suarez, Boulder immediately seemed intelligent and competent.

Suarez was, naturally, most interested in the possibility that the Archangel might kill in Mexico. Boulder was intrigued by the fact that Jackson and Jude might have followed the killer onto a ship.

"There's been no one else killed in the New Orleans area," Boulder told them. "But that doesn't mean anything. The Archangel moves from city to city."

"I want to emphasize," Jude said, "that we have a chance here, the kind of chance we haven't had before with this killer. We believe we've narrowed it down to a small list of suspects, all of them probably on Mexican soil as we speak."

"You're head of the Krewe of Hunters, right?" Boulder asked Jackson Crow.

"I'm field head of the unit," Jackson replied.

"Different kind of unit," Boulder commented.

"One that's solved every single case in which we've been involved," Jackson pointed out.

"I'll take that," Suarez muttered.

Jude leaned forward. "I believe this killer's going to strike here, somewhere in Cozumel." He hesitated. He was terrified by the a.s.sumption he was making, but he'd lain awake much of the night going over everything he'd read about the Archangel and his victims. "He'll go after a cook or someone involved in the restaurant industry. We've discovered the history behind the medallions left on the victims. The medallions that remain are a.s.sociated with the patron saints of musicians, actors and cooks."

"There are beautiful women playing guitars and dancing and singing all over the streets of Cozumel!" Suarez said.

Jackson looked at Jude, nodding, and then turned to the other men. "We're afraid he might have targeted a young actress and a young singer aboard the Destiny already. They're known to him and they fit his profile. They might be in his sights for that reason. Which leaves a cook. There's less likelihood that he would've become familiar with one of the cooks on the ship."

"I'll have my officers out in the street on high vigilance throughout the day," Suarez told them.

"We've got officers a.s.signed to watch the men on your list of suspects, as well," Boulder said. He frowned, studying the paper. "I see that David Beach, head of security, was originally on this list. Now, that's terrifying. But you've taken him off."

"Yes," Jude said. "A study of his movements seems to eliminate him."

"Hope so," Boulder murmured. "If the head of security might be involved, we're in dangerous territory indeed."

Jude wasn't sure how the territory could get any more dangerous.

Jackson stepped in. "We have a top-notch medical examiner on our Krewe team, Agent Boulder. She's gone over the majority of the bodies. Various cuts and bruising would've been different, had the killer been a man of Beach's size. We're looking for someone between 190 and 225 pounds, between five-nine and, say, six-two."

"Here are the men we're still looking at," Jude said. "Pa.s.sengers Hank Osprey, late thirties, billionaire, and Roger Antrim, late fifties, billionaire. Entertainers Simon Green and Larry Hepburn, late twenties, Ralph Martini, middle-aged. Also cruise director Jensen Hardy, who's in his early thirties."

"I've sent their photographs out all over the city-and to every tour destination," Suarez said. "Your men?" he asked Boulder.

"We're on it, too."

"And David Beach has a.s.signed anyone he can spare," Jackson told them. He stood up and Jude did the same. "Gentlemen, thank you. Let's pray we leave Mexico without incident."

"Amen," Suarez said.

Jude was anxious when they left the office of the police captain.

He was very afraid for an unknown Mexican cook.

And for a beautiful American actress...

And the lovely American musician who had somehow managed to creep into his heart.

Alexi had been in Cozumel dozens of times; it was one of the most popular cruise destinations out there.

Some crew members who were at liberty to go into town didn't. They'd been so often and preferred to read, catch up on movies or communicate with those back home.

And sometimes, just sleep!

But it seemed that she and Clara and their little group of friends were ready for a day off the Destiny. They met at ten thirty as planned and departed.

No one left the ship without keying in his or her badge. The Destiny's computer system knew at any given moment whether a pa.s.senger or crew member was on board or ash.o.r.e.

Alexi a.s.sumed that Jackson Crow and Jude were already working in Mexico; she hadn't seen Jude since he'd walked her to her cabin, but she'd seen a member of David Beach's staff watching the hallway as she and Clara met the others.

"So many places, so little time," Simon Green said cheerfully.

Larry Hepburn rolled his eyes. "What are you talking about? We're going to a silly restaurant where they put ridiculous hats on your head, make balloon animals and try to get you to drink as much as possible. And, of course, leave big tips."

"Ah, well, some of the pa.s.sengers will be interacting with dolphins and learning about marine life."

"And on ATV trips! I want to do the ATVs one day," Simon said. "Hey! You guys have been cruising a long time. This is all new to me."

"You could've taken a tour today," Alexi told him.

"Ah, but I wanted to bond with the cool people," he said.

"I just want a cold beer," Ralph muttered. "So, are we cantina-hopping or picking one place?"

They decided to cantina-hop. Their first stop was The Three Amigos. Ralph loved the nachos there.

Second stop, Seor Frogs. It was Clara's favorite for appetizers.

"Now, for the new place," Ralph announced.

"New place? There's a new place?" Clara asked.

"Right behind that row of kiosks, across the street," Ralph said. "Seora Maria's. It's getting a zillion stars all over those tour sites online."

"You still read up on Cozumel on the tour sites?" Alexi asked him, smiling. "After visiting how many times?"

"I know about Seora Maria's-and you don't!" he replied, grinning back at her. "I rest my case."

"Okay! I concede," Alexi said. She glanced at her watch. Despite the tourists from a dozen ships, the local populace and the visitor population, they'd managed to travel quickly. It was barely noon. They'd probably wander back right after eating-which would be the third stage of their meal, after the nachos and appetizers they'd already had. That would give them hours to laze around in their cabins or on the deck chairs before any of them were called to work or rehearsal. "Seora Maria's sounds excellent. Andiamo!" she said.

"I think that's Italian. We're in Mexico," Ralph informed her in a mock-officious voice.

"Oh, yes, sorry. Vamos."

"S, seorita!"

As they headed to the new restaurant, Alexi wondered if she was seeing more uniformed officers in the street than usual or if they'd always been there.

And as she noticed men moving alone through the crowds, she wondered if they were undercover law enforcement.

Or killers.

No, according to Jude and Jackson, she'd know the killer.

He was someone traveling with them, on the Destiny.

"See? See?" Roger asked as they stepped into the restaurant.

It really was impressive. The owners had done an excellent job with decor; reproduction Mayan artifacts were displayed in gla.s.s cases, while the paneled walls were decorated with objects such as huge Mexican hats, maracas and paintings of blazing suns and majestic mountains. The hostess greeted them and led them to a table; their waiter appeared immediately.

Alexi thanked him after placing her order and he blew her a kiss.

"Americans! I love them. And American dollars, too," he admitted with a grin.