She smiled halfheartedly, nodded, then closed and locked her door.

7.

Alexi had an hour or so before Jude would come back to escort her to the piano bar. She sat down in front of her computer, determined to research the set of medallions the Archangel was using. She had to type in a few key words before she found what she was looking for, and that was on an auction site. A set had been sold a few years ago to a museum in Texas, and it was still right there, in the inst.i.tute's Hall of Religion.

She did, however, find information on the various medals.

They'd been manufactured by the Church of the Little Flower just outside the Vatican as a fund-raiser to support the orphans who'd been pouring in from all over Europe. The church had resolved that no child be turned away from their orphanage, but that pledge had been extremely expensive.

Sister Angelina had been the artist behind the medallions, and she had worked with a parishioner to see to their execution. Five thousand sets had been made. The funds raised had seen to the care and feeding of orphans through the war years and beyond.

Sister Angelina had chosen saints that the working man-and woman-might call upon to intercede.

Alexi found a pad and pen in her desk and started a list.

St. Catherine-patron saint of artists.

St. Michael-patron saint of police officers.

St. Matthew-patron saint of accountants.

St. Barbara-architects and builders.

St. Christopher-drivers, travelers and pilots.

St. Bernardino-advertising.

St. Luke-physicians.

St. Francis-animals.

St. Joan of Arc-soldiers and military.

St. Thomas Aquinas-teachers.

St. Lawrence-cooks.

St. Genesius-actors.

St. Cecilia-singers and musicians.

As Alexi looked at the list, a chill settled over her. Thirteen medallions. A medallion had been found on each of the female victims, but not on Byron Grant.

The ship's security, as well as Jude and Jackson Crow, were protecting her and Clara, she knew that. And the other actors and musicians, of course.

On this ship, performers were plentiful.

So were cooks. She closed her eyes, wincing as she thought of the female cooks she knew who were on board. Lucy Tamarin, Maria Octavia, Brenda Isley...

And many more.

Singers... Dozens, between the shows and the various lounges. And most of Jensen Hardy's a.s.sistant cruise directors had to at least be able to carry a tune.

But Jude had zeroed in on her.

Only because I see ghosts.

Still, as she reminded herself, she wasn't the only potential victim on the Destiny.

There was a killer on board. The Archangel. And there were three medallions left. One was that of St. Cecilia, patron saint of singers and musicians.

Yes, she was in serious trouble.

And so was Clara and every woman in the cast of the ship's production of Les Miz.

Her breath was coming too quickly. She picked up her cabin phone and called Clara's room number. She felt the pounding of her heart; it sounded like a cacophony in her ears.

One ring, two, three, four, five...

A feeling of panic, of fear for Clara, almost overwhelmed her.

And then...

"h.e.l.lo?"

Relief flooded Alexi as her friend answered the phone.

"Clara," she said breathlessly.

"Alexi? You okay?"

"Yes, yes, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"h.e.l.l of a day, right? I was lucky. Jackson Crow found me in the crowd at the restaurant and got me back to the ship. And then we had to delay sailing for an hour. Did you realize that?"

"No, I didn't. I was back on board-"

"I know. I was frantic when we all got separated. But Mr. Crow, Jackson, told me you were fine, that you were with Jude McCoy. I called your cabin and left you a message."

Alexi saw the blinking light on her phone. She hadn't noticed it before.

"I'm sorry."

"No problem. I knew you were okay."

"I'll be going to the piano bar in a few minutes. Want to come with me?"

"Sure. I'm due at rehearsal, but that's down the hall on the St. Charles Deck, too. Meet in the hallway?"

"In a minute. I'll come and get you. We'll come get you. Jude McCoy is walking me up."

"Oh," Clara said, a trace of amus.e.m.e.nt in her voice.

"I've just been showing him around."

Clara laughed softly. "Then you're a fool. There aren't a lot of men like him around."

"He has a different kind of life," Alexi said.

"We all have different kinds of lives," Clara said.

"We'll return to port, he'll get off the ship and-"

"So what if he does? He's here now."

"Well, sorry, but he hasn't come on to me."

He hadn't, had he? No, he had a reserve about him. He kept his distance. Clara laughed. "Come on to him, then."

"Clara, I haven't even flirted in ages. I don't think I remember how."

"Trust me. It's like riding a bike."

Alexi rolled her eyes at the cliche. "Anyway, I'll see you in a few minutes." She hung up the phone.

And she looked at the list she'd written again.

What did the medallions mean?

Jude hurried to the office David Beach had arranged for him and Jackson.

Jackson, who was at his computer, glanced up when Jude entered the room. "According to the captain, we're in for some bad weather and there's no way he can make a safe docking in time to avoid it."

"Yeah, I heard. But there was nothing coming across from the coast of Africa," Jude said. "My phone has weather conditions and warnings. I checked it earlier."

"Check it now," Jackson told him. "Angela called a few minutes ago. They're monitoring the situation from headquarters. Seems this is one of those wicked Gulf systems that just spins into existence."

"Great," Jude murmured.

"Right now we're bypa.s.sing it. But, since no one really knows where this system is going, there isn't much the captain can do, other than get away from Cozumel, where it's forming."

"I'm a.s.suming this ship has weathered her share of storms at sea," Jude said.

"She's a good ship, although her stabilizers aren't on par with those on some of the newer ones. Still, she's made it through some rough weather. I'm not too worried about this storm," Jackson said.

"Jackson," Jude began then hesitated. "I met a few other ghosts today. A couple of WWII servicemen and a nurse."

"And?"

"They got me thinking about Word War II-and about the medallions. We know this guy is using them for some specific reason. But what the h.e.l.l could the medallions mean to him? Are they just for effect? Or is there some connection to the war? Or to the church that sold them?"

Jackson shrugged. "The problem is, there were five thousand sets and there's no way of knowing where they all went. I'm sure they were considered great gifts by servicemen, to send to their loved ones back home. Or, of course, to keep themselves. But over the past decades, the medals that survived might have gone through dozens of hands. People might still find them in forgotten trunks in attics."

"We need more on the history of our suspects," Jude said. "On any relationship to the war in Italy, or to museums and auction houses that bought or sold the medals."

"I'll ask Angela." Jackson typed something into his phone and then looked up. "I believe I'm going to go see a rehearsal for Les Miz now."

"And I hear Billy Joel calling my name," Jude said.

"We need sharp eyes tonight," Jackson told him. "We may be heading into one h.e.l.l of a storm."

"In more ways than one," Jude added.

Alexi was still staring at her list when she heard a tap on the door. "It's me, Alexi," Jude said from the hallway.

When she opened the door, he smiled at her. "Showtime?"

"Yes, thank you," she said with a nod. "Clara should be ready, too."

"Jackson's going to the rehearsal with her," Jude told her.

"Oh."

She was glad to hear that Clara was protected; at the same time, she was worried about the fact that both Jackson and Jude seemed to believe she and Clara were intended victims.

"Well, that's good," she said.

"So tonight your friends Ralph, Simon and Larry will all be in rehearsal. That means they won't be at the piano bar?"

"No, they may show up later. And, of course, Clara will go straight back to her cabin, if that's what Jackson suggests," Alexi replied.

"Glad to hear it," Jude said. "Since it's always easier to protect people who want to be protected."

"So, you do see Clara and me as the Archangel's targets?"

"We can't know that for sure. There are other entertainers on board and we're doing our best, with David Beach's help, to see that everyone stays safe."

The ship lurched suddenly. This time Alexi steadied herself by clutching at the wall.