“It will all make sense somehow,” Ethan murmured. “We’ll find out tomorrow. For now...” He stopped, shrugged and quickly cleared the photos off the bed, then smiled at her. “Time for bed, so we can make an early start in the morning.”
She was surprised when he swept her into his arms. “Seize the night—that’s what they say, isn’t it?”
“Seize the night,” she agreed.
And so they did, letting Charlie forget, at least for a little while, how much she was dreading tomorrow and the possible discovery that one of her friends was a killer.
* * *
The plan was that they would all go ashore in St. Francisville. Alexi wasn’t worried that they wouldn’t have a chance to rehearse. They already had a set list and knew all the songs well, so they would be fine.
Jude and Thor were going to go talk to Randy Laurent, who was expecting them. He was glum, having talked to half the people in town without discovering anything new.
Jackson Crow had contacted the CEO of Gideon Oil, Saul Gideon, and he had agreed to meet with them at his office in Baton Rouge the following day, although he’d made a point of saying he wasn’t sure what help he could possibly give them. He’d said he hadn’t even been approached by anyone from Sane Energy, but would have had no problem considering a new plan. And since he owned 51 percent of the company, the final decision on which method to go with would have been his.
They hadn’t spoken with Jonathan yet. Ethan had purposely delayed that morning, so by the time he and Charlie were ready to head ashore, Jonathan and his tour group were already gone. He wanted to observe Jonathan in St. Francisville. In fact, he was hoping to get Jonathan onto the film set, which might be possible, since he would be talking at Grace Episcopal Church, and it shouldn’t be too hard to sidetrack him afterward.
Alexi and Clara were going to hang out at Mrs. Mama’s Café. It was public and safe, and they just might overhear something useful.
The six of them met on deck before heading ashore, but they waited until pretty much everyone who was leaving the ship for the day was gone. When the deck was virtually empty, they saw Captain Ellsworth Derue coming toward them. They nodded to acknowledge his presence, since talking to thin air would have looked suspicious to the few people who were still around.
Derue was smiling broadly, and Ethan thought he was the happiest ghost he had ever encountered.
If nothing else, Ethan imagined there weren’t that many occasions when anyone acknowledged him at all, much less six people at one time.
Once they were off the ship, they claimed their rental cars and split up. Captain Ellsworth Derue accompanied Ethan and Charlie as they headed toward the bluff by Grace Church, where the film crew were still working on some last “rising ghost” shots. They’d spent the last several days, while Charlie was unavailable, working with Harry Grayson, Blane Pica and the ghosts, getting new angles on the climactic scene of the ghosts destroying the oil-company exec and the crooked senator. Ethan thought it was ironic they were now looking into Gideon Oil’s potential involvement in three real-life murders.
“This is a movie set?” Captain Derue asked as they arrived. He was familiar with movies from his time on the ship and was keenly interested not only in the filming itself but in everything behind the scenes: the catering tent, the dressing rooms and especially the crates of props, so many of which could have come directly from his own past.
“Yes, this is it,” Charlie said.
“Interesting,” Captain Derue said. “And the reenactors will be here?” he asked.
“Many of them,” Ethan assured him. “From here, we’ll walk over to Grace Church and see if we can’t find Anson McKee.”
“Thank you.” His words were heartfelt.
Charlie might have been gone for a month rather than only a few days, she was greeted so warmly by Brad, Mike, the crew and the actors on call, not only Blane and Harry, but Jimmy and Grant Ferguson, who were also part of the “rising” scenes.
“Charlie, any chance you have time for one scene?” Brad asked her. “Your costume’s here, and I just want to shoot you getting up after the ghosts have saved you—over by the old graves on this side of the churchyard.”
She glanced at Ethan. He nodded. “Sure. We have a few hours,” he said.
Ethan kept his eye on the dressing room while she changed, chatted with the other actors to pass the time.
“I’m so sick of being filthy,” Jimmy said. “And people think an actor’s life is all glamour.”
“We do get to sit in the shade and sip mineral water,” Grant said.
“Want to join us?” Jimmy asked Ethan.
“No, I think I’ll wander down to watch the filming,” Ethan told them.
“Have fun,” Jimmy said cheerfully, heading for the catering tent.
Charlie came out of the dressing room, transformed into a modern young professional in her office attire. Brad, Mike, Luke—hauling his microphones, headphones and other equipment—and Jennie—makeup box in hand—walked with her over to the spot where Brad had chosen to shoot. Everyone but Charlie was completely unaware that they’d been joined by Captain Ellsworth Derue.
From his vantage point a short distance from the church, Ethan could see both the filming and Jonathan standing near the church and speaking to a crowd.
He noticed that Jennie frequently looked over in Jonathan’s direction.
The filming went off without a hitch. There was nothing for Charlie to see as she got up from the ground where she’d fallen, but Brad painted the picture with words as she looked around her. She was terrified when she first saw the ghosts, but then she realized they were there to protect her, that they would save her from the evil living men who were chasing her. Once they’d captured a satisfactory take, Brad had Luke set up a new scene marker and called for silence on the set. Charlie had been set up with a mic, and now she thanked the ghosts who were supposedly surrounding her, though once again she was on her own, talking to the air. When the scene was completed to Brad’s satisfaction, he called “Cut!” and went over and kissed Charlie on the cheek, and told her she was brilliant.
While Charlie was busy talking with Brad, Ethan strolled over to where Jennie was standing.
“Not only did you know Corley and Hickory,” he said softly and without preamble, “you knew them pretty well.”
She flushed and looked at him. “Not really. We were all involved in an organization called Sane Energy. They wanted to try to talk to some oil-company bigwig about changing an oil pipeline, and I thought it was a good idea.”
“You claimed you barely knew them.”
She sighed and looked at him. “Okay, I knew them a little more than ‘barely,’ but it’s not like we were buddies or something. And I didn’t want to get involved, because what if that made me a target? I don’t know who killed them or why, I swear.”
“Okay, let’s leave that for now and talk about the fact that you talked to Albion Corley on the Journey the day of the reenactment, and then you rushed to talk with Jonathan Moreau. Why did you need to talk to Jonathan if not to tell him what you must have known, that Albion and Farrell wanted his help with their plan?”
Jennie shook her head. “Yes, that’s why I wanted to talk to him, but I didn’t get the chance to tell him anything. Someone was talking to him, asking him questions. People are always asking him questions. He left to set up his next lecture before I got a chance to talk to him.”
Ethan had to be satisfied with that, because Brad and Charlie had stopped talking and were heading his way.
“Done for the day,” Brad said happily. “We should all head to the café.”
Ethan looked at his watch, surprised to see that it was already midafternoon, and they’d promised Derue a visit to the church. “Can’t. Charlie has a show at five thirty,” he said.
/> “Well, that sucks,” Brad said.
“How about breakfast tomorrow?” Mike asked, walking up to join them. “The Journey stays in port until midmorning. We could do an early breakfast, say eightish? Maybe eight thirty.”
“Sounds good,” Ethan said.
“Sure,” Charlie agreed.
“Still wish you could come with us now,” Brad said.
“Me, too, but we’ll see you in the morning,” Charlie promised.
“Okay, then,” Brad said. “Come on, Jennie. Let’s go.”
Jennie looked toward the church again, and Ethan followed her gaze. Jonathan and his group were gone. Damn. He’d wanted to observe the man more closely while they were so near where Hickory’s body had been buried.
Ethan and Charlie waited until the others were trekking back to their cars. Then he turned to Captain Derue, who had been waiting quietly, and said, “Let’s head over to the church.”
“So many lives...” Derue said quietly, looking off toward the graveyard.
Ethan took Charlie’s hand. He squeezed it as they followed Derue toward the church.
They were almost there when they saw Anson. He materialized right in front of them, but he didn’t even seem to notice Ethan and Charlie, only the ghost who was with them.
“Ells,” he said in shock.
“Anson.”
The two ghosts embraced warmly, and then they walked away and sat on an aboveground tomb, where they rested and talked.
Ethan knew he had to get Charlie back to the Journey, but there was no reason not to leave the two cousins there to catch up. Derue had plenty of time to find his own way back.
“Charlie and I are going to head back to the ship!” he called.
Anson McKee looked toward them for a moment, then lifted a hand and waved goodbye. Ellsworth smiled and did the same.
Ethan and Charlie turned and headed toward their rental car.
“That was beautiful,” Charlie said.
“I always figured ghosts could find each other if they wanted to, but apparently I was wrong. I guess we’ll never know all the answers, even if we do have the ‘sight.’ Not until we die ourselves, anyway.”
“In that case, I hope I stay ignorant for a long time,” Charlie said with a smile.
At the car, Ethan glanced at his watch. He was barely going to get Charlie back in time for her first performance.
“Don’t forget I still have to change,” she said, checking the time herself.
“I’ll get you there.”
He drove to the dock, aware of the time the whole way. When he reached the dock and the spot where he was supposed to leave the car, Charlie asked, “Do you really think a ninety-pound woman could be our killer?”
“What?”
“Jennie. I saw you talking to her, and from the look on her face, you weren’t making casual conversation. You were questioning her, weren’t you?”
“I was asking her about Sane Energy.”
“Oh?”
“She admitted she knew Albion and Farrell better than she’d admitted before, said she was a member of Sane Energy, too. She did know that they wanted to set up a meeting with Gideon Oil.”
That was the end of the conversation, because they had to produce their ship ID cards so they could board. Charlie was ready to run ahead without him, but he insisted on going with her.
“I’m going to check on the others, but I’ll be back over to walk you up to the dining room.”
“Just hurry, ’cause I’m running late.”
“Okay, okay, just be sure to lock the door.”
“Locking!” she called.
Ethan walked the two steps to Jude and Alexi’s cabin, though he suspected they’d already gone up to the Eagle View. He had just raised his fist to knock on their door when he heard a startled scream from his own cabin.
Charlie!
15
Charlie stood still, staring in horror at the mirror above the sink.
You’re next.
The words seemed to drip down the glass, and they looked like they were written in blood, but they couldn’t have been. Could they?
Charlie backed away from the mirror.
She didn’t even realize she had screamed until Ethan burst into the cabin and raced up behind her.
It was lipstick, just lipstick, she thought, and tried to reassure herself that this was a sick prank.
She felt Ethan’s hands on her shoulders, firm and reassuring.
“Lipstick,” he said. “Don’t touch it. I’ll get hold of Randy and have him send a forensics team. We may find something, fingerprints or...something.”
“Is this...a joke? The printing looks like a kid’s, and the message...it’s like something from half the cheesy horror movies out there. But...how did someone get into our cabin?”
“We’ll worry about that later,” Ethan said. “Maybe someone ‘borrowed’ a master key from one of the maids. But joke or not, people are dead, and this isn’t funny. Find your things, and we’ll get you into one of the other cabins. You can change there while I wait for forensics to show up. The Journey doesn’t leave St. Francisville until tomorrow morning, so we have plenty of time to get a handle on this.”
“Okay,” Charlie said. She turned and hurried to the closet, collecting her dress, shoes, corset and petticoat. She felt cold, and as if she was moving like a robot. But she was calm. No, she realized, she was too calm. She was almost numb.
Paradoxically, she was also angry. How dare some sicko sneak into her cabin and try to scare her this way?
She didn’t think she would be able to sleep in here again. Yet where could she go? She was pretty sure the ship was at capacity.
Once she was ready to leave, she noticed that Ethan was just hanging up the phone, and when he took her arm and led her out, Jude was already out in the hallway and waiting for them next door.
Alexi was peeking out the doorway as Ethan tersely explained the situation to Jude.
“Might suggest we’ve been wrong and someone on the ship is our killer,” Jude said.
“It might, but the ship has been at the dock in St. Francisville all day, too,” Ethan said. “Someone could have sneaked aboard.”
“I’ll step out so you can go in and change,” Jude said to Charlie, nodding toward the pile of clothing in her arms.
“Thanks,” she said.
As soon as she closed the door, Alexi looked at Charlie questioningly.
“There was a message on the mirror, written in lipstick,” Charlie explained. “It said ‘You’re next.’”
Alexi shook her head. “Something similar happened on the Destiny. My guess is it means someone thinks you’re getting close.”
“Why would they think I’m getting close?” Charlie asked.
Alexi looked at her grimly. “Because even though you don’t realize it yet, you must know the killer,” she said quietly. “And that scares him. Or her,” she added.
“You think a woman could have done this? Wielded an Enfield with a bayonet attached?” Charlie said, slipping out of her clothes and into her costume. She turned so Alexi could tighten the corset. “Jennie McPherson’s name keeps coming up, but she’s about the size of a mouse.”
“She might not have done the killing herself. There could be two or even more people involved,” Alexi told her. “Women are willing to do strange things for the men they love—and vice versa, of course.”
“Including kill?”
“Maybe,” Alexi murmured.
There was a tap at the door, and after checking through the peephole, Alexi opened it to let Clara in.
The most effusive of their group, she threw her arms around Charlie. “You okay?” she asked.
Charlie nodded. “O
ddly enough, though I admit I’m scared, I’m angry, too.”
“Good. Angry is good,” Clara said firmly. “Anyway, you guys ready to go? Jude is going to walk us to the dining room and stay with us. Ethan and Thor are going to wait for the forensics team and talk to Laurent when he gets here.”
“It’s a plan,” Charlie murmured.
They headed out to the hall, where the three Krewe agents waited.
“Showtime,” Alexi said.
“You going to be okay?” Ethan asked Charlie. “Alexi and Clara could go on without you.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m fine. And hopefully Captain Derue will be back, and his men are there. One of them might even have seen something. Besides, I’m not afraid of lipstick on a mirror.”
Ethan smiled at her, a smile that was grim but admiring. She wished she deserved his admiration, but she really hadn’t done anything other than not fall apart completely.
“I’ll have a new cabin settled by the time you’re finished with the second show,” he promised.
As they walked down the hall, Charlie looked at her companions. “How hard would it have been for someone to have gotten on the ship?” she asked. “I mean, someone who isn’t supposed to be here?”
“Well, security’s not as tight as when you’re traveling internationally,” Jude said from where he was walking a few feet behind them.
“Tight?” Clara gave what sounded almost like an unladylike snort. “They allow prospective cruisers on during the day. They supposedly scan IDs, but the procedure is pretty casual. I was down on the Promenade Deck the other day with Thor, and we could see how easy it was to come aboard. Of course, there’s supposed to be a count at the end of the day. It makes sure everyone who got on is off, but...”
Charlie lowered her voice. “So it’s conceivable someone from St. Francisville got on the Journey sometime during the day and went to my cabin to write that message?”
“Just about anything is conceivable,” Alexi said.
“In this case, I’d say it goes beyond conceivable to quite possible,” Clara added. “And it’s not like they had to smuggle a weapon on. We’re talking about a lipstick. No one would look twice.” She slipped her arm around Charlie’s shoulders. “But you’ve got nothing to worry about. You have us.”