Unlucky 13 (Women's Murder Club 13)

Moans and long keening cries seeped from other passengers. Yuki knew they were all thinking, “Am I next?” Praying to God, “Please, not me, not my wife, not us.”

Why didn’t Finlandia pay? Why didn’t they pay?

Yuki bit the back of her hand and tried to fight her nausea.

Only last night she had gone to bed feeling so lucky. She was married to Brady. A good, funny, sexy man she loved so much. They were on their honeymoon, the opening act to their beautiful wide open future.

And now this sick unrelenting dread and terror.

Yuki said to Brady, “That scream. I’m sorry—”

“Shhh, sweetie. You couldn’t help it. Stay right here. I’ll be just there.”

Brady got onto his stomach and wriggled ten feet over to Lazaroff. They talked quietly for less than a minute, then Brady slid back to her side.

She wanted to ask what they were discussing, when she heard the clank of combat boots on metal. Jackhammer came down the stairs from the track deck above and stalked to the long side of the pool, directly opposite where Yuki and Brady sat together.

Yuki was shaking again.

The sight of the man, the way he walked, his hardy-har attitude, and the random murders were so crazy-making, she felt this close to going bug-fuck. Like the man who’d thrown the chair, she was seized with a need to pick up something, or throw something, or find an insult so humiliating …but she couldn’t think of anything that would achieve anything but her own certain death.

Brady shifted his position so that Yuki was hidden behind him. She heard him say, “Okay, honey, shhhhh.”

She’d been whispering. Or maybe whimpering.

Jackhammer struck a pose, legs apart, hands on his hips, mocking them all.

He said, “I

have good news.”

CHAPTER 77

YUKI SHIVERED BEHIND her husband’s broad back, remembering other times when Jackhammer had said he had good news.

About an hour ago he had said, “Good news, everyone. The execution is over and we have sent proof of death to your hosts back in Finland. You can all relax for a little while. Uh, for fifty-nine minutes to be exact. Maybe we’ll be lucky enough to see the northern lights.”

What news would Jackhammer deliver now?

Buffet dinner in the Luna Grill? Aerobics on the sports deck?

Yuki reached around her husband and gripped his chest.

He patted her hand and said beneath the sound of the water lapping the hull, “We’re going to be okay. I mean it.”

Brady would protect them if he could, but what chance would he have? Jackhammer’s crew had already shot six people she knew about, and maybe dozens of crew had been gunned down when he and his gang had first boarded the ship.

If he didn’t get his money, he might have himself a real party and shoot every passenger on board. A bloodbath. A massacre.

Jackhammer spoke from the across the pool. “Guess what, everyone? We got an e-mail from your cruise line. They say they’re going to be transferring money soon. Won’t that be great? We’re standing by for our bank’s confirmation of the wire transfer from Finlandia. Okay? Didn’t I tell you I had good news?”

There was a sprinkling of applause from the captives who were bunched, crouched, sick with fear.

Jackhammer said, “Hey. Let’s hear it for money coming, all right?”

The faint applause increased. Whatever it took to mollify the monster.

Jackhammer said in his most mocking ringmaster voice, “And now, let’s have some music.”