Haunted Destiny by Heather Graham

Clara that she saw the dead.
    She didn’t want her best friend on the Destiny thinking she was stark raving mad.
    How could she tell Clara not to go anywhere alone, to watch herself every time she went to or from her cabin?
    Somehow, she had to.
    â€œMinnie, you and Blake will watch out for me, too, right?” They promised fervently that they would.
    Alexi glanced at her watch, and then over at the bar. Servers were getting ready to open for the evening. She still had time; it was only eight, and she didn’t start until nine.
    She stood up, deciding she’d go and see if the cast was rehearsing. But before she could move, she saw that Agent Jude McCoy was approaching her at the piano bar. He nodded politely to Minnie and Blake, and she had to smile.
    â€œYou find something humorous, Ms. Cromwell?” he asked.
    â€œBlake and Minnie,” she said. “I’d like to introduce you to FBI agent Jude McCoy.”
    â€œWe know who you are, of course,” Minnie said, smiling beautifully.
    Always the flirt.
    â€œA pleasure to meet you,” Jude McCoy said. Alexi saw that he took note of Minnie’s elegant 1930s gown and Blake’s tuxedo.
    He winced as he looked at Alexi. “Dead?” he asked softly.
    â€œHow rude!” Minnie said.
    â€œDarling, we are dead,” Blake told her.
    â€œYes, but what a terrible word! Passed, I think, is better. Ethereal, maybe. Or he could say spirits. We are on a ship, at a bar, so spirits could refer to more than one thing,” Minnie said with a tinkling laugh. “Anyway, sir, the pleasure is ours. As long as you intend to look after Alexi for us.”
    â€œI definitely intend to do that,” Jude promised her.
    â€œWell, then, we’ll leave you two to chat. There’s a bit of time before Alexi’s on for the night. Blake, I do believe we should take a romantic stroll out on the deck. What say you, my love?”
    â€œAnything, dearest,” Blake said.
    The two departed.
    Alexi saw that Jude McCoy had changed for the evening. He looked seriously masculine and striking in a dark blue suit.
    â€œWhat can I do for you now, Agent?” she asked.
    â€œI need to find out if these men come here,” he told her, producing his phone and showing her pictures. “Roger Antrim and Hank Osprey?”
    She glanced at the photos on his iPhone and nodded. “Yes, I know them both. They’re regulars on the Celtic American line. They were in here last night. In fact, I see them practically every night of a voyage. Roger was a TV network CEO and he’s in his late fifties. He’s married to Lorna, who is lovely. They’re retired and they sail whenever they feel like it.” She paused. “You don’t really consider him a suspect, do you? Like I said, he’s married . And he’s always in here with Lorna.”
    â€œI’m sorry, but history’s proven that married doesn’t mean much in these situations. But I’m not accusing anyone of anything. I just want to hang around and see them for myself. Now what about Osprey?”
    â€œHank, as you can tell from his picture, is younger. A brilliant nerd in high school, from what I heard. He sold his first company when he was in his twenties. Very nice guy. You’d never know he was rolling in money.”
    â€œDoes he ever come in here with a woman?”
    Alexi thought about that. “Yes, I’ve seen him with other people, including women. He brought a bunch of employees on a cruise once. And he was dating a major heiress for a while. Then a B-movie queen. Both of these guys—Hank and Roger—like the Caribbean. And of course, they can sail whenever they want. Honestly, though, you’ll see. Neither of them is... Well, I can’t imagine either of them as a serial killer.”
    â€œThat’s the thing,” Jude McCoy warned her. “We’re not after a spree killer here. The Archangel spaces out his