Danni gave him treats and he settled on the floor at her feet.
“We’re not opening the store, are we?” Bo Ray asked.
“No, it’s almost closing time.” They’d left Geneva at 11:00 a.m. and Paris at 2:00 p.m. But because of the time change and despite the eight-hour flight, it was only four when they touched down in New Orleans. Now, however, after driving into the city and settling in, it was after six.
“Let’s get some dinner going, shall we?” Hattie said cheerfully. “Believe it or not, children, I’m an excellent cook. Shall I see what’s in the larder?”
“Oh, Hattie, we can take care of the cooking. You don’t have to,” Danni told her.
“I’m delighted to show off my prowess in the kitchen,” Hattie insisted. “If you don’t mind, I’ll go through what we have.”
“There’s a grocery down the street,” Bo Ray said. “I can run out and get anything you need.”
Hattie smiled. “What a sweet offer. Thank you, Bo Ray.”
“I’ll just take a gander at the shop, see that everything’s all right,” Billie said.
“Much as I’d like to stay for your meal, Mrs. Lamont, I should go back to my own place.” Natasha gathered up her bags as she spoke.
“I’ll walk you home, Natasha,” Father Ryan said.
“There’s no need,” she protested.
“Nonsense. I’ll enjoy the fresh air and I could use the exercise,” Father Ryan said, and Natasha agreed to his company.
Danni decided she should take the journal down to her father’s office. There was something she felt she should be seeing in the painting—understanding about the painting. Something she just hadn’t figured out.
“I’ll be downstairs,” she announced. “Just call if you need me, anyone.”
“And I’m only a holler away,” Natasha said. “A loud holler, but...I’ll be there in no time.”
Hugs goodbye were exchanged, then Father Ryan left with Natasha, and Danni headed down to the basement. The door to the office was locked, and she remembered Billie had done that after bringing in her giclée copy of the Hubert.
Wolf was at her side. He whined when she pulled out her keys and opened the door, clearly not wanting her to go in. He sat in the little hallway at the foot of the stairs, refusing to enter the room.
“Wolf, I don’t like the damned thing, either. But it’s only a copy, and we need to read the rest of that journal. There might be information in it that’ll direct me to Millicent Smith’s book, so...”
She went inside, flicking on the light.
Wolf stayed in the hall for a minute, but then seemed to feel he couldn’t let her enter alone.
She paused at the door, thinking that something was awry. But nothing had changed about the office or her father’s collection.
Except, of course, the presence of the giclée.
It leaned against the far wall. Danni walked closer to it.
She was surprised to see that the brown paper wrapping was falling off. Niles was usually so meticulous.
Faulty tape, she thought. She could see where it had given way.
She was about to rewrap it; she still had a sense of discomfort in her own home—a home she loved—and she sure didn’t want to look at the giclée. Not even a corner of it.
But before she could approach it, Wolf began to bark loudly and excitedly.
He ran to the door, whined, then ran back to her.
She realized she was hearing voices from the kitchen above.
“Ah, Quinn’s back!” she told the dog. “And you have to go and see your Quinn, don’t you? Let’s go up and maybe have some dinner, and then we’ll come down again, okay?”
Wolf barked, apparently delighted with her decision, and sprinted up the stairs.
She was about to turn off the light when she glanced back at the painting.
Now the wrapping had fallen almost completely off.
She’d ask Billie to repackage the damned thing later.
Flicking off the light switch, she hurried out of the room and up the stairs.
Chapter Fifteen
QUINN WONDERED HOW he could be so tired when all he’d really done was fly in a very comfortable seat, dozing for much of the trip.
But when he reached The Cheshire Cat, he was tired. Maybe they were all just drained; they’d done a lot in a very short time, and events around them had been traumatic.
When he entered the kitchen, greeted Hattie and Bo Ray, and then had Wolf run up to greet him as if he were long-lost and dearly beloved, he felt better.
Danni followed the dog. There was a tense expression on her face, probably because she was hoping he’d learned something by going off with Larue.
“Anything?” she asked breathlessly.
“They were killed much like one of the previous victims,” Quinn said.
“Bryson?” Hattie paused, a skillet in her hands.
“No, a member of the Garcia family.”
“No weapons, no clues?” Danni asked.
“Fog,” he said. “That’s all.”
“Fog!” Hattie repeated. Then she shook her head firmly. “No more talk of this right now! Let’s sit down to a lovely meal. Yes, lovely, if I do say so myself. It’s not just about the food, it’s about the company. Danni, my dear, give Bo Ray a hand setting the table, will you? Quinn, wash up. I believe Father Ryan will be back any minute. Natasha had to go and see about her own affairs, but the five of us can have a little downtime here.”
They obediently set to work as she’d instructed. Wolf curled up in a corner, watching them, waiting to see where Danni and Quinn would land so he could lie at their feet.
Father Ryan returned soon after, and Billie came in from the shop. The five of them sat down to Hattie’s cooking; she’d created a nice meal of chicken, pasta with a delicious sauce, as well as a big salad.
“So,” Hattie began, after Father Ryan had said grace, “no talk of the murders tonight. Let’s get to know one another better, shall we?”
“Ah, sure,” Bo Ray mumbled.
“We’ll start with you,” Hattie told him. “How do you come to be here?”
“Um...” Bo Ray looked around the table and shrugged. “I was an addict, involved in all kinds of bad things and with bad people. Then Quinn and Danni found me. After that, Father Ryan helped me and now I’m clean. I live here and I work at The Cheshire Cat.”
“Very good.” Hattie nodded approvingly. “Oh, not good that you had such a hard time. But that you’re clean and working at the shop. Billie, how about you?”
“I was born in Scotland....”
“Shocking!” Hattie teased.
“I was Angus Cafferty’s best friend. He came to the States, so I came to the States. He moved to New Orleans because of his wife, and I came to New Orleans. And when he died...well, now I’m with Danni,” Billie said.
“Father Ryan?”
Father Ryan grinned. “Actually, I was going to become a boxer. I went into the military, I came out...and I knew my place was in the church. There you have it.”
“A fighting father!” Hattie said, smiling. “And let’s see...Danni. You grew up in the city with your loving father, became an artist...and took over your father’s very strange work, collecting—and destroying!—things.”
“More or less,” Danni responded.
Quinn knew the question was coming his way next.
“And Mr. Michael Quinn. Oh, yes, I heard about you, sir! A college football player like we’d rarely seen in this city before. All but worshipped. Everyone wanted you for endorsements, so money was yours. Women threw themselves at you—and everything became too easy.”
“That’s it in a nutshell,” Quinn said. “I got so much that I abused drugs and alcohol...and managed to die.”
“Ah, but you came back as an avenging angel. The doctors saved you on the emergency-room table. And you became...”
“Not an avenging angel, just a man,” Quinn told her. “But I was given a secon
d chance. So, I move along, trying to make the second go-round better than the first.”
“Quite commendable, Mr. Quinn.”
“What about you, Hattie?” Danni asked. “We know the rich widow part—and that you donate to so many charities in the city. But where did you begin?”
“In a trailer park in Georgia.” Hattie gave them a small smile. “I was born in one. I didn’t want to die in one. I took a job as a waitress and worked and went to school part-time—and met my blessed husband, who didn’t care where I was born or anything about my past. I spent my every waking hour loving the man. Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve made more of an effort to get him to live a healthier life, but I never tried to change him and he never tried to change me. So I’m grateful for the good years we had.”
“That’s a beautiful story, Hattie!” Danni said.
“Thank you. Eat up. What about Dr. Hubert? It’s quite late. Should we be worried about him? Perhaps you ought to call him, Quinn.”
“If it’ll make you feel better, I will,” Quinn said.
Hattie was staring at him, so he assumed he was supposed to call Ron right then and there. He did. The medical examiner sounded surprised to hear his voice and even more surprised to realize how late it was. He told Quinn he was ready to leave the morgue; he’d gone over the notes for so long his vision was blurring.
Billie said he’d go and pick him up. Meanwhile, Hattie fixed a plate to put in the microwave for Ron as soon as he got back to the house.
Father Ryan asked Billie to drop him off at the rectory on his way, and bade them all good night.
Quinn wasn’t happy was about his leaving, but Father Ryan was determined.
When the two men had left, Danni ordered Hattie to relax; she and Quinn would clean up. Bo Ray told her he was a wicked Uno player, and the two of them decided on a game.
Danni and Quinn had finished clearing away the dishes when Billie returned with Ron, and Hattie took a break in her game to warm his meal.
Danni went down to the office to retrieve the journal; she wanted to read in bed.
She hurried down the stairs.
Quinn noticed that Wolf didn’t go with her. The dog, knowing his duty, usually followed Danni anywhere she went.
“What’s up, boy?” he asked.
Wolf barked and sat down at the head of the basement stairs. Then, wagging his tail, he came back for Quinn. Curious, Quinn walked over to the stairs, and the dog seemed noticeably happier that he was coming along.
Danni was collecting Ron Hubert’s family journal when he reached the door.
“You okay?”
“Jumpy,” she admitted. “Oh, the wrapping on that stupid giclée is coming off. I’m surprised, since Niles usually wraps things so expertly. Maybe he thought the thing was just going down the street so he didn’t bother. Anyway, I’ll get Billie to seal it up tomorrow. I don’t even want to look at it. Still, I do feel there’s something I haven’t figured out yet. But maybe I’ll feel that way forever and everything really is over.”
He didn’t respond; she knew as well as he did that the situation wasn’t over.
“You heading up now?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Danni smiled.
Upstairs, they both realized they hadn’t had a steaming hot shower in days. Danni went in first, but she knew he’d be following her. And he did.
Naturally, a shower led to other things...
Like kissing each other’s lips in the thunder of the spray—very, very nice.
Kissing various other body parts was also very...
Nice wasn’t the word.
Exotic, erotic, explosive.
Stumbling around in the bathroom, wearing towels while trying to get to the bed... Just a little wet, but...
Finding the bed. And making love...
The world felt as if it had been cleansed in the spray of the water. For long moments he forgot the dark cloud that seemed to hang over them.
For those moments, there was nothing in the world but Danni, and the feelings she woke in his heart, his soul, his entire being.
She nudged him as they lay, just feeling the cool air moving over their heated bodies.
“I was going to try to finish Eloisa’s journal tonight,” she whispered. “But...I think I’m going to sleep.”
“Sleep,” he told her.
He pulled her closer and stroked her hair.
And he wished the feeling of dread wasn’t slipping back.
* * *
It had to be about 3:00 a.m. when Danni roused. She wondered what had awakened her; then she knew. It was Wolf. He was barking insanely. The noise seemed to come from far away, but she realized he was just downstairs, on the first floor.
Quinn was already up, pulling on jeans and grabbing his gun. He was at the bedroom door before she could scramble into a robe and sweep up one of the flasks Father Ryan had given her—filled with holy water.
She knew from past experience that it was a viable weapon. At least when it came to a particular kind of enemy...
He threw open the door. Both Hattie and Ron were out of their rooms; Billie and Bo Ray were running down from the attic.
“Stay here, Hattie, Ron, please. Bo Ray and Billie will be with you. Danni,” he began.
“I’m coming. I have my medal—and my flask.” He hurried down the stairs. Wolf was in the center of the hall, still barking.
A quick look around yielded nothing.
“The store?” Danni asked. She hit a switch that illuminated The Cheshire Cat.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Not that there was anything ordinary about the shop. But they saw nothing that shouldn’t have been there.
Quinn walked toward the kitchen but instead went into Danni’s studio. He glanced around, then closed the door.
“I don’t see anything out of order,” he said, puzzled.
Wolf barked at the two of them again.
As he did, Quinn’s phone started to ring, the sound loud and discordant.
He answered it, and Danni saw his face darken.
“On my way,” he said.
He closed his phone. “Another incident,” he muttered. “Down toward Chartres.”
Another...
Just a block or so away.
“I’ll get dressed,” she told him.
“I’m going to throw on a shirt and go ahead. Get Billie to come with you. I mean it. Get Billie,” he said. He was already halfway up the stairs and more or less burst past the small crowd who’d gathered to wait for them there. Danni stopped to explain, but before she’d finished, Quinn was back, buttoning his shirt as he raced down the stairs on his way out. At the bottom he paused. “Billie, you go with Danni. Bo Ray, you watch over our guests.”
Bo Ray nodded, apparently speechless.
“We’ll be fine,” Hattie said. “As long as you leave us the dog. You can leave us the dog?”
“Yes,” Danni said. Wolf wouldn’t be happy; he’d known something was wrong—a couple of blocks away! But he had to stay here to guard the house.
She hurried up to her room to dress. By the time she got downstairs again, the others were back in the kitchen and the teakettle was steaming.
Bo Ray was explaining the game of Uno to Ron, while Hattie set out cups.
“We’ll be right here,” Hattie said. “Don’t worry about us.”
Wolf barked, running toward Danni, and she crouched down beside him. “Wolf, you have to stay here and look after everyone. Okay? I need you, my man. You understand that, right?”
But for once, Wolf didn’t seem to understand. He ran to the stairs that led down to the basement.
“He hates that giclée,” Bo Ray said. “So do I. Danni, honest to God, can’t we just get rid of it? I swear, I don’t even like being in the house with that thing!”
“I must admit, just knowing it’s down there makes me uncomfortable, too,” Ron said. “And I work with dead people!”
“Perhaps...perhaps we could put it out in the courtyard,” Hattie suggested.
Danni looked at Billie, who’d come up behind her, pulling on a jacket. “Let me put it out,” he said. “Then we won’t worry so much, all right?”
She nodded. She ran down the stairs, Billie and Wolf right behind her.
Billie walked across the room for the giclée. More of the packaging had fallen off. He swore beneath his breath, something with a long rolling burr, and threw an old piano cover over the print before picking it up. “I’ll set it next to the garage,” he told her.
“Thanks,” she said gratefully. “That should do for now. But when you get a chance...”
“Aye. I’ll wrap it up solid.”
She locked the office door and led Billie, carrying his burden, and Wolf back upstairs.
Bo Ray was waiting; he had the courtyard door open. Billie took the giclée out and leaned it against the garage wall.
Everyone in the house seemed relieved—and she could tell that Wolf thoroughly approved. He licked Danni’s hand and settled by the back door.
Now he was on guard duty.
“It’s just a copy,” she murmured. “Lock us out and set the alarm, Bo Ray!”
“You bet!”
She and Billie ran down the street to make the right turn to Chartres.
* * *
Quinn reached the location on Chartres to learn that this time, miraculously, no one had been killed.
The area around the doorway of the Zombies Here and Now shop had been cordoned off with crime scene tape, but there was no one around.
Larue told Quinn that a couple of locals had been attacked. The Reverend Cosby Tournier, a Haitian Houngan, had been walking down to meet friends at Café du Monde after a meeting at his house. He was with two young pupils who were learning the ways of the loa—those who intercede with God on behalf of the faithful.
They’d been studying talismans, holding them in their hands and talking as they walked. They’d been astounded to encounter a fog bank in the middle of the street. When Cosby Tournier was attacked—by some degenerate wielding a knife in the middle of the street—one of the pupils had pulled out his own knife while the other had begun reciting chants.