The Dead Play On (13 page)

Gus laughed. “And you turned us all down before that, too. But fine. To you, Quinn would have been the eye candy. I’m just glad it worked out so I’m the happy one, no offense intended.”

“None taken,” Jessica assured him. “Danni, did Tyler tell you? There are a couple of duets I’d love to do with you. I’ll give you a list. Of course, I can only go up when the other girls are on the floor and it’s not too busy, but if you don’t mind...”

“I’d love it,” Danni told her.

Jessica went back to work, the folksinger left the stage and the band went to set up. Danni discovered she wanted more water and walked up to the bar. It was still relatively early, but people were flocking in. The female bartender who had been on the other night came up and introduced herself to Danni. She was Sharon Eastman, and she said she worked weekends and sometimes Thursday. Danni asked for her water then stayed at the bar to watch as the band continued to set up.

“On your own tonight?” someone asked from behind her. “Well, not totally. I see that Billie is here. Where’s Quinn?”

She turned around. Eric Lyons was leaning on the bar, smiling at her.

“Quinn is sitting in with friends at another bar tonight,” she told him.

“Ah. Well, it’s fun to have you all. Hope he comes back, too,” Eric said.

“I’m sure he will. He and Billie love to play together.”

“And you?”

“Well, I don’t really play.”

“You’re good at harmony—not everyone is. Trust me, I see—and hear—it all here,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“I love to watch,” Eric said. “People in general. See, watch Gus and the way he looks at Jessica.”

“She’s a pretty girl.”

“He has a thing for her—he always has. Unrequited love.”

“She’s not married?”

“No, never was.”

“Maybe she’s still in love with the child’s father.”

“Maybe,” Eric said with a shrug. “Who knows? None of us ever met him. Anyway, she’s a great worker with a great voice.”

Just then Blake waved to let her know they were going on. Before she could get up, Tyler said something to him then walked over to her.

“Jessica is going to do a song while it’s still not too crazy,” he said.

“Wonderful!” Danni said.

And it was. Jessica sang a popular Adele song, and she hit every note with clarity and beauty.

When she came down from the stage, Danni was grateful that they only expected her to do backup—and that Shamus or Tyler would be singing lead.

“You’re phenomenal!” Danni told her, stopping on her own way to the stage.

Jessica blushed. “Once upon a time I thought I’d be singing for a living. Not that long ago, either. Well, life has a way of getting you, you know?”

She walked on to pick up her tray, still blushing as customers complimented her and asked for their drink orders.

* * *

He studied the picture again. So it wasn’t the LaFleur girl. Oddly enough, he admired the way she had eluded him. Brad might have been tougher to deal with, but he’d watched and waited till Brad was gone. He knew what Brad was doing and just how long it would take him to come back.

He thought about Jenny LaFleur. One of the beautiful people. One of the inner circle. And more clever than he had imagined. He smiled slightly, thinking that he would have enjoyed actually getting his hands on her.

It was changing. All changing. He’d been timid at first. Of course, he’d thought he could trick Arnie and kill him without ever being suspected—and get the sax. Unfortunately, it hadn’t worked out that way. But he felt as if he was evolving, as if he was becoming a better killer, even if he’d had to run tonight.

They were afraid. They were all growing more and more afraid. They were grouping together; they were being careful never to be alone. That was because Danni Cafferty and that has-been football hero she was with now had gotten involved. That bastard Quinn knew there would be safety in numbers.

Eventually, though, they would be like rats. Rats in a cage.
Arguing and growing impatient.

They would have to give up eventually and start acting normally again. They would go crazy; they would want their freedom and their own lives back again.

And now...

Now he knew there were other places to look.

There was Danni Cafferty’s place. It would bear study and time.

There was the Watson house...

He had time.

He just had to wait and continue to do what he was doing, observe then take advantage of whatever opportunity came his way. It didn’t matter to him; he had time.

Because they didn’t see him. Because he was invisible.

Invisible, as he had always been.

And would always be.

Unless he had the sax.

Yes, he could wait and watch. And grab opportunity wherever it showed itself.

He smiled, because he knew. He was gaining power. He was after a magic sax—and that made
him
magic, too. Because he knew the city and he knew the night, and he knew how to blend into the darkness and the crowds so he could carry out his search.

He was invisible. He was invisible even when he was in plain sight.

Chapter 8

BECAUSE EITHER JENNY
or Brad had been targeted, Quinn knew it was important that he was where he was, but he still chafed with worry at not being with Danni. Every chance he got, he texted Father Ryan.

Father Ryan texted back every time that all was well.

During a break, Quinn sat with Jenny and Brad, along with Steve and Luis, their fellow bandmates. He didn’t have to bring up what had happened. Brad and Jenny did that for him.

“I was working on a song,” Brad said. “And it was in with the music that was taken. Not that it really matters. The song is in my head just as much as it was on paper.” He looked at Quinn. “None of the big labels are tripping over themselves to sign us, but Jenny and I have a small indie label, and we make a little money each year off our sales. Thanks to iTunes and Amazon and other avenues, we do all right.”

“So you think this guy has been after songs all along?” Steve asked. “Not that special sax of Arnie’s?”

Quinn looked at him. “You know that Arnie had a special sax even before the murders, right? Did most people?”

“If you grew up around here, yeah,” Steve said. He smiled a little awkwardly. “Anyone who was part of the Survivor Set knew all about it.”

“The Survivor Set?” Quinn asked.

“The high school was flooded during the summer of storms,” Brad said. “You’re older than us, so you’d graduated by then. But we were shipped all over the country so we could finish high school. There were a couple of places that didn’t close, though, like one private school in the Garden District, and they took in some of us. They—whoever
they
are—chose who got to stay because we lived in the French Quarter or Garden District or other areas that were still above water. There were about twenty of us, and by some weird coincidence, every one of us had some kind of musical or artistic ability. Most of us were musicians, but there were a few dancers and actors and actresses in there, and one or two artists. Danni was part of the group, so you probably know most of this already. We lucked out and got to stay, but a whole lot of kids did have to leave the area or just lost a year and graduated late.”

“So everyone in this group knew about Arnie’s special sax?” Quinn asked.

“Sure. In fact, there’s a picture of Arnie holding it above his head while he ran across a flooded street. It made the papers all over the country.”

“So all of you became close friends?” Quinn asked.

“We were the fish out of water, I guess. Public school kids suddenly in pretty elite private schools. So, yeah, we hung around with each other a lot,” Steve said.

“But you know how it goes,” Brad said. “Eventually things got back to normal. Well, almost back to normal. Some families never returned after that summer. New people moved into the city. We graduated and all kind of drifted apart. Even those of us who stayed in the city didn’t necessarily stay friends. And remember, Arnie was a few years older than we were. The oldest guys graduated soon after the summer of storms.”

“And I wasn’t one of them,” Luis said. “I met these goofballs later.”

“So Arnie was in this group. And Tyler, too, I take it?” Quinn asked.

Jenny gasped suddenly. “Quinn, Holton Morelli was a guest lecturer when we were there,” she said. “And Lawrence Barrett was a teaching assistant.” She met his eyes, and there was real fear in hers. “Is this person killing off people who were part of the Survivor Set?” she asked, her face pale. “If so, he won’t stop. He’ll come back for Brad and me.”

Quinn didn’t really know what this new information meant, but he quickly said, “Remember, Morelli and Barrett weren’t really part of your set—they were teachers. And I don’t believe these killings have anything to do with surviving the storms. I think they have to do with Arnie’s sax. A sax was taken during each holdup.”

He doubted his words afforded her any kind of reassurance when she said, “But still...” and looked as if she was going to collapse into her chair.

“It would be nice if you could give me a list of who was in that Survivor Set,” Quinn said. “And if you can think of anyone else still playing in the city who was part of it.”

Jenny looked at him with wide eyes. “I know who else was part of it,” she told him thickly. “Someone who was actually in Arnie’s class. One of the musicians who was attacked on the street. Jeff Braman.”

* * *

They were trouble, Michael Quinn and Danni Cafferty.

She didn’t remember. No one remembered. Because he’d been no one.

He hadn’t known then that he was magic. He’d been invisible, always invisible even in plain sight. But Danni Cafferty...

She hadn’t even been one of them.

But they had wanted her. She had been beautiful even then, and courteous. Old Angus would have strung her up if she hadn’t been courteous.

But she’d never even seen him.

He liked to think now that it had been because of his power. Back then he hadn’t realized he was magic, that his invisibility was good, something he would need to use at the right time in his life.

But even when she was courteous...

She didn’t really see him. She’d never seen him. She didn’t see him now.

She didn’t have the sax, though.

Neither did Quinn. But there was that old skeleton who lived with them...

That didn’t even matter. There was a slim possibility that the old Scot had the sax, though it might be difficult to discover whether he did or not. Still, there were always chances. Things to be done.

Danni...she thought she was magic, too. Like old Angus.

He smiled to himself. She needed to see his magic. He would have to show her.

Oh, yes. He was, one way or another, at one time or another, going to show her.

He’d always been in awe of her. Watching from a distance.

But now he was going to find a way.

He would force her to see his magic. And then he would never have to look at her again and admit that she’d never seen him, invisible or not. He didn’t know if he still coveted her and was in awe of her...

Or if he hated her beyond all measure.

It didn’t matter. He had to deal with her.

He had to make sure that she saw him—and then that she never saw anything again.

* * *

Danni found herself relaxing onstage this time, and she enjoyed seeing Billie enjoying himself, whether he was playing a solo sax part or duetting with Tyler.

Natasha and Father Ryan were there, just as they had promised. They seemed to be having a great time, listening to the music and talking animatedly between songs. It was almost midnight when Danni was shocked to see an elegant older woman walk into the club. It was Hattie Lamont, the socialite they’d worked with on the case concerning the Henry Hubert painting.

Being Hattie, she was dressed to the nines. Her iron-gray hair was cut short and curved under her aged but elegant chin. She was in jeans and a ruffled blouse that was both casual and ever-so-slightly elegant. Danni was idly keeping the beat with the tambourine when Hattie walked in and looked around for a minute, and then Father Ryan rose to greet her and lead her to the table.

Billie was in the middle of a soulful tune; his eyes were closed as he felt the music.

Danni smiled. Billie and Hattie had not begun their relationship as friends. Now, however, the two “spent a wee bit of time together, here and there,” as Billie put it.

When the song ended the applause was almost deafening. Tyler and the other band members bowed, accustomed to the approval of crowds. Billie blushed and did the same, and then noticed that Hattie had joined Father Ryan and Natasha, and his blush turned darker than a barrel of boiled crawfish.

He was due to sit out a few numbers, and Danni grinned at him as he left the stage to join the others. It was fun to watch him head for the table and greet Hattie.

During the next break she went to join them. Because the table was small, the band headed to the bar for the break.

Billie was sitting close to Hattie, looking just a little awkward. Hattie didn’t seem to notice, but then, Hattie could manage herself in any situation.

“Dreadful, what’s going on,” she whispered to Danni, and Danni was suddenly certain the woman had come not to see Billie but because she’d heard that Danni was playing. Apparently, Father Ryan had the same impression.

“Anything here that I’m not seeing?” he asked Danni.

She kept her voice low. “No, or if there is, I’m not seeing it, either. But last night the killer stole some things from Jenny and Brad’s house. Instruments and sheet music. One of the instruments was a sax. I’m sure the killer is looking for Arnie Watson’s special sax.”

“And Tyler really has no idea of where it is?” Natasha asked.

“Not a clue,” Danni said.

“Strange, when you consider Tyler was his closest friend,” Father Ryan mused.

“He mentioned that Arnie was close with one of his army friends. Kevin Hart, a guy from Houma. Unfortunately, we can’t just drive over and talk to him. He’s at Walter Reed.”

“Injured?” Father Ryan asked.

“Severely. He lost a leg, so he’s being fitted for a prosthesis and getting physical therapy. He’s been there six months. He rotated out with Arnie,” Danni said. “Tyler said that he’d like to see Kevin, too. Actually, he thinks the whole band should go and play for the patients. I don’t know if that’s possible, but it’s certainly one way to make the trip seem casual. But I don’t know if we need to make it casual. Although if he doesn’t believe we’re all really looking out for Arnie’s reputation, he may not talk to us.”

Hattie waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I’ve been there many times. As you know, my late husband and I were quite fond of giving his money away. I could never see a better cause than helping those who fought for our country. If you wish to go and entertain them, just let me know.” She offered Danni a wry grin. “I know all the right people. No doubt you could find the right people yourselves, but I can speed things up for you.”

“I don’t know,” Danni said. “I’ll have to talk to Quinn.”

“Just let me know, dear,” Hattie said.

Tyler called to Danni, and she headed back up onstage. When Billie came up for his next number, he definitely looked nervous. Danni loved that he cared so much now that Hattie was in the room. She whispered to him, “Just believe that it
is
Arnie’s special sax.”

He gave her a smile, then played beautifully.

The night wore on. Bit by bit, the crowd thinned, though Father Ryan, Natasha and Hattie were still hanging in. Finally Tyler announced the last song.

The waitresses and Eric were trying hard to clean up quickly, so as soon as she was done helping the band, Danni quickly collected all the glasses her group had used and brought them up to the bar. Eric offered her a smile of gratitude. “I never mind the hours,” he told her. “But when it’s time to leave...well, it’s time to leave.”

“I don’t blame you,” she told him, looking around. “You here alone now? I don’t see Jessica or any of the other waitresses.”

“I always let them go as soon as I can,” he said. “See you tomorrow?”

“I think so,” she told him.

“But no Quinn?”

She laughed. “Probably not—status quo for a while, I think, and then we may start sitting in somewhere else. But who knows? We aren’t real musicians, anyway.”

He laughed. “Define
real
when it comes to anything in the arts,” he said. “You look and sound real enough to me up there. And your man can play a mean guitar. Your friend is really good, too.”

“He is, isn’t he? He learned the bagpipes first—guess that explains why he’s full of hot air,” she joked. Eric grinned, and she told him good-night.

When she returned to the table it was empty. Max had just come in, leaving his post at the door. She bade him good-night, too, and realized that Billie and the rest of her friends, along with the band, were standing outside on a litter-strewn and rapidly emptying Bourbon Street. Here and there people still laughed and walked—or staggered—along, off to get pizza or beignets, or heading back to wherever they were going to rest their heads.

“You hungry, love?” Shamus asked.

“Not tonight. I think I’m just going to head home. What about you all?” she asked anxiously.

“We’re covered,” Tyler told her. “We’re going for pizza tonight, and I have my car, so we’ll eat, then I’ll drop everyone off and head on to the Watson house. What about you all? No one alone, right?”

“We’re good,” Danni assured him. There were goodbyes all around, and then the band headed down the street in search of food.

“All right, down to us,” Father Ryan said. “Billie is going to see Hattie home, and I’m your escort, Miss Cafferty—well, I shall be seeing you to your house, and then Natasha on to hers, where I will retrieve my car.”

“Wonderful,” Danni said. “Except that...” She hesitated, remembering what Eric had said about Billie and how well he played.

What if the killer had seen Billie play and thought the same thing? Would he have thought Billie was so good that he just might have been playing a very special sax?

“You be careful,” Billie told Danni.

“I’m with a man of God and a priestess for the universe,” she said. “I’ll be fine. But Billie, I don’t like this. I say we all walk to my house, I’ll get the car, and we’ll get Hattie home.”

“But Danni dear, it’s a matter of only a few blocks to my home,” Hattie protested. “I got here all on my own, you know.”

“Honestly, Hattie, at this moment I think you might be fine other than bumping into a run-of-the-mill mugger—which would be bad, too, of course. But Billie has been playing with the band.”

“First time ever on a stage here, Danni, so who’d be after me?” he asked.

“I’d rather not find out because he attacks you,” Danni told him.

Billie let out a deep sigh and wagged a finger at her. “This from the one who took off like a bat out of hell just last night!”