psychic crystal 03 - killer cruise

by Marilyn Baron

  “Highly unusual,” acknowledged Juliette. “But it’s a sign from the universe. The spirit world. There’s dark matter afloat on this ship.”

  “Are you talking about that big-ass crow outside our cabin?” Will interrupted, plopping down beside Juliette and surprising her with a kiss on the lips. “It almost pecked my eyes out. But it was gentle as a sparrow with my wife.”

  Juliette frowned. “Will, how many times do I need to tell you there’s no need to pretend we’re married when it’s just Jack and Kate.”

  “Just practicing.” Will flashed a dazzling smile.

  Juliette sighed and glanced at Will. “You’re impossible, Will Bradley.”

  “The girls were just talking about a death aboard ship.”

  “A death that’s already happened?” Will asked.

  “Soon,” Juliette promised. “It will happen very soon.”

  “Should we alert the captain?” Jack asked.

  “You might want to, but I don’t think there’s anything he can do to prevent it. It’s fated. I’d like to walk around the ship before dinner, see if Kate or I get any strong feelings, or sense anything irregular.”

  “Then let’s do it, ladies,” said Will, springing up and pulling Juliette with him. Grabbing her hand, he started toward the door.

  “Will,” Juliette admonished.

  “Just holding my wife’s hand,” Will said, smiling and warming her hand in both of his. “A husband’s prerogative.”

  “What you’re doing is taking advantage.”

  “Whenever I can,” Will said, planting another sloppy kiss on Juliette’s lips.

  Juliette went to slap him with her free hand, and he grabbed it and brought it up to his lips.

  “Everyone is looking at us now, sweetheart. Let’s give them something to wag their tongues about.”

  Will wrapped his arms around Juliette, then bent her back dramatically, kissing her slowly and thoroughly. He pressed himself against her, and she shivered until she felt his arousal. She tried to speak but was trapped by his strong arms and his gentle lips. She tried to fight her feelings, but, she had to admit, the Chief was making her feel something. Something monumental.

  Some couples walking by clapped. The men gave Will a thumbs-up.

  Finally, he let her go.

  “Don’t do that again,” Juliette hissed, straightening the sleeve of her dress from where it had slipped off her shoulder.

  “It felt good, didn’t it, sugar?” Will challenged.

  “Maybe to you, but not to me.” Juliette colored, and she made a show of smoothing the wrinkles out of her wrinkle-free dress. She wondered if the Chief knew she was lying.

  “Just let go, Juliette. You’re so uptight. You know you felt something. Let’s see where it takes us.”

  “I know where it’s going to take us. Nowhere. And if you kiss me like that again, you’ll be sorry.”

  “Now don’t go getting your feathers all ruffled. What are you going to do, turn me into a frog?”

  Juliette mustered up her most malevolent glare and fixed him with her cold-as-steel violet eyes. “Don’t tempt me, Will Bradley. You don’t want to mess with me. I killed a man, remember?”

  “A man who deserved to die,” Will said. “Someday, I’d like to hear the story, from you.”

  “Instead of the tabloids? Well, I killed him, and I’d do it again. Just mull that over, next time you decide to paw me in public,” Juliette threatened.

  “I wasn’t pawing you. I’m trying to get through that frigid exterior of yours to the soft woman I know is inside.” Will stared at Juliette’s breasts. “I’m trying to show you how I feel. I’m attracted to you, Juliette. And that’s the God’s honest truth. I like having a wife again. I like it a lot.”

  Juliette bit her bottom lip and stared into Will’s mind but couldn’t quite read him. The man certainly sounded sincere. It’s just that he was in dire need of a relationship manual. He came on like a speeding freight train.

  “This is all a game to you, isn’t it, Will? Well, I’m through being some man’s pawn. I’m through being easy. I have to protect myself.”

  “You don’t need protecting from me, sugar.”

  Juliette tightened the shawl around her shoulders. She felt feverish, then shaky. Perhaps she was coming down with something.

  She walked away from Will and minutes later found herself in a room full of paintings, drawings, and prints.

  “We’re having our art auction at the end of the cruise,” said a woman who stepped out from behind a podium. Would you care to take a look around? See if there’s anything you like? Here’s a brochure about the auction. We’re one of the largest privately owned galleries in the world. If you see something that strikes your fancy, just find our auctioneer and he’ll explain what to do.”

  Juliette took the brochure the woman offered. Jack and Kate stood behind her.

  “Mom, are you all right?”

  Juliette turned to Kate. “Do we have time before dinner to visit the gallery?”

  “Sure, I’ll come with you. I studied art history in college, and I used to work in a gallery. Did you know that?”

  “No, I didn’t. There’s a lot about you I didn’t know, that I missed out on. Let’s go in together.”

  Will and Jack stood guard outside the gallery.

  “How are things going with Juliette?” Jack asked.

  “I can’t figure that woman out,” Will said. “After my wife died, I couldn’t fight the women off. I’m considered something of a ladies’ man back in Graysville.”

  Jack smiled.

  “But Juliette, well, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and the strongest. There’s something going on between us. There’s a spark, a fire, but she won’t admit it. It happens every time I touch her. But she won’t let me in.”

  “Will, she’s been through a lot. She’s been hurt. I want to make sure you’re not going to hurt her again.”

  “I’m not like that lecherous reverend. She might be surprised, if she’d give me half a chance.”

  “Maybe you’re coming on too strong,” Jack suggested.

  “I only have two weeks. Then y’all are going back to Atlanta. She won’t let me near her in the cabin. The only chance I have of wearing down her resistance is in public, where I can kiss her or touch her, make a physical connection.”

  “But you just met her. I think things are happening too quickly for her taste. Women like to be courted.”

  “But every time I look at her, every time I’m around her, I go crazy. Jack, she is driving me insane.”

  Jack chuckled. “That’s the way I felt about Kate. It was instant, like a lightning bolt.”

  “I’m just going to have to use the time I have with her to get her to realize we were meant for each other.”

  Jack shook his head. “You’ve got it bad, Will.”

  Will acknowledged that he did. “I hope the girls come back out soon. I’m getting hungry.”

  Chapter Six

  Kate and Juliette roamed the gallery for the next half hour, impressed by the wide selection of European artists on display. They wandered into an isolated alcove of the gallery and looked through another stack of paintings.

  A man hurried over.

  “Ladies, I’m afraid the gallery is closed for inventory.”

  Juliette looked deflated. “But the woman outside said—”

  “I’m afraid she was mistaken.”

  “Well, we were hoping to see some of these paintings,” said Kate, inching her way farther into the alcove.

  Juliette tightened the shawl around her shoulders. The man, regal and tall as a giant—coal dark hair and matching moustache and beard as full as a thicket, piercing blue ageless eyes, a rather appealing man, in a tailored black suit, reminiscent of a vampire, sans cape—blocked the entrance. His evil but eerily familiar presence ushered a chill into the room, sucking all the air out, leaving the atmosphere still and rancid.

  “Well, all rig
ht,” he sighed, relenting in a melodious and mesmerizing voice, while dismissing them with all the hospitality of a gnat. “Then take a look around, if you must. See if there are any pieces that interest you. If you identify any you’d like to know more about, come back tomorrow and talk to another one of our art auctioneers. Our auction will be held next Saturday afternoon in this same place, but until then we can place a hold on the paintings you select. Just fill out these cards with your names and cabin numbers, and we’ll reserve the paintings for you.”

  “How does the auction work?” Juliette wanted to know. “What did you say your name was?”

  The man paused and grew more irritable. “I didn’t. But it’s, uh, Wade. Wade Randall.”

  “Do you have a card?” Juliette inquired.

  “No,” Wade barked abruptly. “I’m currently cataloging our collection to get it ready for the auction. I need to get back to the work I was doing before I was interrupted.”

  “Can we find out how the process works?” Juliette pressed.

  The man shifted uncomfortably, hesitating. “Well, uh, our auctioneer will display each painting in front of the room, you’ll raise your card, and he’ll call out the price. Then, after we’ve finalized the sale, we’ll reserve your painting and package it and send it to your house a month or so after the cruise.”

  “What if someone else wants to bid on it?” Kate asked.

  “Well, that’s all handled in advance. The painting is yours. You will fill out the paperwork, handle payment, and we’ll mail it out.”

  Kate continued to flip through the stack of paintings.

  “Are these Picassos?” she asked.

  “Good eye,” Wade said, scowling. “How did you know?”

  “Well, I majored in art history in college. I’m an art lover, and my family collects—collected—art. I recognize his style, and I can see his signature on the paintings.”

  “Oh, of course,” Wade said, his hands fluttering nervously, before they settled on his hips.

  He stood in front of the paintings for a minute, until Kate elbowed her way around him to peruse the stack further. The artwork ranged from flawless landscapes to portraits. Besides the Picassos, there were Monets, Chagalls, a very nice Vermeer, an obscure Jan van Eyck, an “unfinished” Cézanne, even a Rembrandt—View of the Sea of Galilee—a fine Matisse, an Old Master—a priceless Raphael?—and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a still life by van Gogh, Vase of Poppies. What were these gems doing on a cruise ship in the middle of the Atlantic?

  Overcome, Kate’s hand flew to her throat. “Are these authentic? Or are they copies?”

  “Which one did you have in mind?”

  “Well, this Chagall, for instance,” Kate said, holding up the painting. “These colors are marvelous. I don’t think I’ve seen this suite of his before.”

  “It is very beautiful, but beauty is expensive. That painting is…” Wade frowned.

  “Out of my price range?” Kate smiled.

  “Out of most people’s price range, I imagine.”

  Kate studied the painting.

  “Are we talking $100,000?” Kate ventured.

  Wade narrowed his eyes.

  “Impressive. That would be about right, Miss—”

  “Crystal, Katherine Crystal, or rather, Katherine Crystal Hale now,” Kate said. “My parents owned two Chagalls, very similar to this, but, well, I believe the third in the series was stolen from the Musée National Marc Chagall in Nice some years back.”

  “I wouldn’t know anything about that. You must be mistaken, Miss Hale. We do not trade in stolen art.”

  Kate pressed her lips together. “Is it for sale, Mr. Randall?”

  “I’m afraid these have all been pre-sold. Can I interest you in another one of our artists? We have some beautiful landscapes you and your sister might enjoy.”

  “Wade,” Kate began, laughing to herself. Everyone mistook Juliette for her sister. They looked very much alike, and Juliette appeared to be so young that no one would have guessed they were actually mother and daughter. “I’ve looked through the gallery, and most of what you have here is mediocre, and I think you know that. Beautiful, yes, but to anyone who knows anything about art, to someone with a trained eye, they’re hardly collectibles. Your Chagall, on the other hand, is either a damn good reproduction or it’s real, and if it is, it’s been off the market for years. Do you mind me asking who purchased this particular painting?”

  “We don’t give out personal information about our patrons,” Wade said, wringing his hands impatiently.

  “Has this patron bought any more paintings on this trip?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t say. Now, how about one of these landscapes from a yet undiscovered but very promising young painter from Prague? If you like his work, I can give you a good price.”

  Wade led them over to the other side of the gallery, Kate and Juliette reluctantly following. They passed some oil and acrylic paintings on canvas, drawings, lithographs, etchings, and engravings before Juliette stopped in front of a collection of watercolors.

  “Kate, these are lovely,” Juliette said.

  “Yes,” Kate admitted. “They are pretty scenes, but—”

  Wade turned over the painting to display the price: $700. “If you’d like, I can give you another by this same artist for $300, so for $1,000 you could have two paintings to take home, including the custom frames.”

  “I’m afraid I couldn’t afford these, Mr. Randall,” Juliette said, her downcast eyes expressing her disappointment.

  “Mom, if you really like these paintings, I’d love to buy them for you.”

  “Kate, that’s very generous, but I couldn’t accept them.”

  “Fill out your name on this card. I want to buy them both for you.”

  Juliette smiled. “I’ve never owned anything so beautiful. Thank you.” Juliette couldn’t stop staring at the paintings.

  Wade opened a drawer and pulled out a single glossy sheet. “Here is some literature about this particular artist.” He handed Juliette the artist’s bio. She filled out the form with her name, address, and cabin number, and handed it to Wade.

  Not to be dissuaded, Kate turned purposefully back toward the original stack of paintings, to a particular Chagall. “I’m afraid I have my heart set on this Chagall or one of these other quality pieces you’re hiding in the alcove. I would be willing to exceed any current bids.”

  “As I’ve told you before, they’ve all been presold,” Wade apologized impatiently. “We’re not hiding anything.”

  “By the same mysterious buyer?” Kate wondered.

  Wade was silent for a moment. “Perhaps you can take another look around, ladies, to see if there’s anything else you like. We have another week until the auction, and we’ll be here the entire time until then.”

  “I’m afraid we have dinner reservations, but thank you for your time,” Kate said, backing away, almost choking on the murky aura in the alcove.

  “Since you’re buying the paintings, you’ll need to fill out a form, too,” said Wade, “with your cabin number.”

  Juliette flashed wary eyes at the man.

  The man addressed Kate, but his eyes skewered Juliette. “Miss Hale, isn’t it? And what did you say your cabin number was?”

  “She didn’t,” answered Juliette, grabbing Kate’s hand as she shoved her daughter out the door, where they bumped into Jack and Will.

  “Kate, what’s wrong?” Jack asked. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Well, in a way I have. The ghosts of some long dead artists, whose genius has survived.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Some of the paintings Juliette and I saw in there… They’re stolen. They offer those Old Masters and others as a come-on. The auctioneer claims they’re all spoken for. I doubt they were ever really for sale.”

  “Are you sure?” Jack asked.

  “Absolutely. I’ve not only studied these paintings or paintings like these, but I
’ve seen them or very similar work by the same artists in galleries all over the world. Either these pieces are very skillful reproductions, or something’s rotten in Denmark.”

  “Denmark?” Will asked. “I thought this was a Mediterranean cruise.”

  Kate laughed. “It’s just an expression, Will. After dinner I want to take another look around—a closer look. Jack, I think these people are operating some kind of black market smuggling ring, and right under the nose of the cruise line. I’m coming back to the auction next Saturday night to find out the name of the person who has bought these paintings.”

  “Kate, don’t you think that might be dangerous?” her husband said.

  “Not if everything is on the up and up. Aren’t we supposed to be looking for anything that seems suspicious? This is definitely suspicious. That man was nervous. He didn’t like us poking around. He knows my name, and he tried to get my cabin number. It shouldn’t be too hard to find. Maybe we should tell the captain what we’ve discovered.”

  “But Kate, I filled out a form. He knows my name and where I live,” Juliette said, wringing her hands. “Which means he knows where you live. I knew I had a feeling about this gallery. And that man. I feel as though I’ve seen him before. But I just can’t place where.”

  “Let’s not alarm the captain. Why don’t we go to dinner and talk about it.”

  “Good idea, Jack. I’m starving,” said Will, before giving Juliette a hungry look.

  Chapter Seven

  “What is our plan of attack?” Will asked Jack as he cut into a juicy steak, releasing the excess blood to trickle into and ruin a perfect presentation of fluffy garlic mashed potatoes.

  Well, you see, right there, Juliette rationalized, that’s why she and Will could never be a couple. She detested the sight of raw meat, and Will had probably never eaten a salad in his life. The man had obviously skated through life on his good looks. Certainly he never traded on his social graces.

  Of course, the Reverend Carter Coulter had possessed social graces to spare. He was polished, educated, smooth—and smarmy to the core. And she had fallen for him like a naïve schoolgirl, like so many other impressionable young sensitives in the Florida seaside community of Casa Spirito. Since that debacle, she had hardened her heart to every man. No one was ever going to break down her defenses again. She rarely looked back, not since she had murdered her former lover, but, on the plus side, if it hadn’t been for the reverend, she wouldn’t have Kate, the greatest gift in the world.