The Dead Play On (15 page)

He told them all good-night, and then Quinn walked him to the courtyard door and watched until he was in his car and on his way. Quinn didn’t really know much about the priest’s past other than that he’d been in the service as a young man and after, as a priest, served in some of the most viciously war-torn areas of the world. He truly was “God’s warrior” in many ways; spiritually or physically, he was ready to go to battle for innocence and the good of mankind.

When Quinn walked back into the kitchen, he heard Jenny telling Danni, “I wish he wouldn’t leave.”

“We’ll be fine, trust me,” Danni said. “Please.”

“
I
certainly trust you,” Quinn said. “Why don’t you all go on up to bed. I’m going to call Detective Larue.”

“At this hour?” Danni asked softly.

He nodded. “Yes, I’ll wake him. He’ll be irritated, but he’d be more irritated if I didn’t report in on what happened here tonight.”

He pulled out his phone and called Larue, expecting that the others would leave, but they didn’t. He looked at Danni as he spoke, making sure that what he told Larue was right.

Larue did sound tired, but he didn’t say a word about the hour. Quinn figured that he’d been ready to get up and face the day, anyway.

After he rang off with Larue he assured the others that every officer on every shift would be on alert for anyone in a trench coat. The mask was secondary, since the killer was unlikely to wear it where he might be spotted, but of course they would keep it in mind, too.

“He’s just like Jack the Ripper, don’t you think?” Jenny asked, shivering. “He commits horrible crimes then just disappears into the streets. He even manages to disappear while he’s loaded down with musical instruments.”

“Because he knows the city,” Quinn said. “He’s local, either born here or, at the least, he’s been living here for quite some time. He knows the alleyways, what courtyard gates are left unlocked and where he can find easy access to hidey-holes. He’s smart, so we’ll just have to get smarter.”

Quinn could hear the street sweepers outside, cleaning up after another night of the usual mayhem in the Quarter.

“It’s morning, guys,” he said. “And I can guarantee you nothing happened during the night. Since this house was targeted, we don’t need to be worried about anyone else. Not till tonight, anyway.”

Jenny slapped Brad lightly on his shoulder. “We are not leaving—not until this is over,” she told him.

Brad looked at Quinn and Danni apologetically.

“Hey, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, you know that,” Danni said.

“Absolutely,” Quinn agreed, knowing Brad was still feeling awkward. Maybe some primeval sense deep within made him feel he was infringing on another man’s castle.

“Thanks,” Brad said awkwardly.

Finally Quinn realized that no one was going to bed until he did. “Wolf, you’re on duty, boy. And don’t worry about waking me up. Bark at anything you want.”

Billie groaned softly. “We’re opening in just a few hours.”

“Not to worry. I actually slept awhile,” Bo Ray said. “And I’ll get in my last few hours now. Good night, all.”

He headed up the stairs. Brad and Jenny followed him. Billie looked at Quinn. “Want me to stay up?”

“We’re good. We’ve got Wolf,” Quinn said.

Billie nodded and went on up. Danni looked at Quinn. “Wow. Can we really go up and sleep?”

“We can really go up and sleep.”

“The funny thing is, I was exhausted before, but now I’ve got so much adrenaline going that I’m not sure I
can
sleep,” she said.

He smiled and slipped an arm around her. “I can take care of that for you,” he told her.

“Really?” she said, a curious smile on her face.

“Physical activity is known to relieve stress and make it easier to fall asleep.”

“That’s incredibly romantic.”

“I can be romantic,” he promised.

She laughed. “No, I meant it—that’s incredibly romantic. At this moment, anyway. Makes me want to strip my clothes off as I run up the stairs— Oh, wait! The house is full of people. Guess I’ll have to control myself till I make it to our room.”

She turned and ran up the stairs. He followed.

She left a trail of clothing from the bedroom doorway to the bed. He tried to do the same but couldn’t match her grace. He tripped over a shoe then remembered his gun. He saw the amusement on her face as he stopped to handle it with care, but he finally got down to bare flesh and made a dive for the bed then rolled carefully atop her.

“Mock me, will you?” he said in a mock growl.

She shook her head, still smiling, her eyes alight. “Never. Not when the finale is so...fine.”

She ran her fingers along his back, and he felt arousal sizzle through him. He caught her hands and threaded his fingers through hers then leaned down low to kiss her lips.

And then lower. To kiss all of her.

It was, as promised, a wonderful way to relieve stress.

It was quite a while before they slept.

Chapter 9

WHEN QUINN AWOKE,
Danni wasn’t next to him. A fleeting moment of panic swept through him. He couldn’t help it; maybe it was some instinctive macho thing. It worried him that she’d moved and he hadn’t wakened.

The panic subsided quickly, but another fear quickly arose. Danni was a sleepwalker—and a “sleep-sketcher.” When things didn’t make sense, when she didn’t have a ready answer rolling through her mind, she had a tendency to rise and walk down to her studio and start to draw—all while she was dead asleep.

And she did so nude, since that was how they slept.

Quinn bolted out of bed.

The rest of the household might not be sleeping. Worse, Danni’s studio was a short hallway down from the main gallery of the shop.

He slid into his jeans but didn’t bother with shoes, shirt or even his gun. Bursting out of the room, he raced down the stairs. Wolf wasn’t in the kitchen, he discovered, taking a hasty look inside.

Brad and Jenny
were
there, however. Brad was reading the paper Billie insisted on having delivered every day. Jenny was making coffee.

“Morning,” he said to them. “Have you seen Danni?”

“We just came down,” Brad said. “Do you want some breakfast? We’d like to help out.”

“No, thanks,” he said. Smiling—and aware that they’d both noted with interest that he was in nothing but his jeans—he hurried on to Danni’s studio.

To his vast relief, he saw that she was clothed.

Their line of work called for strange hours sometimes. He hadn’t glanced at the time yet, but it had to be eleven or twelve. Not only were Brad and Jenny in the kitchen, but he could hear voices from the shop. Bo Ray was talking to a customer. He was talking about a local craftsman and how each piece was one of a kind. No hard sell at The Cheshire Cat, just the kind of information that helped unique items sell themselves.

Danni wasn’t aware of him at first; she was seated on her stool and staring at the newly drawn picture on her easel. Wolf was by her side. The mammoth dog thumped his tail as he saw Quinn.

“Danni?” he said.

She turned to look at him, awake and aware.

“Hey,” she said. She smiled, examining him from head to toe. “Like the outfit.”

“Thanks,” he said, leaning against the door frame. “I was worried, so I wasn’t really thinking about my wardrobe.”

“I’m sorry I scared you,” she told him.

“I can’t believe I didn’t hear you leave. At least you didn’t sleepwalk.”

Her smile faded slightly. “I did. But apparently I had the sense to sleep-dress first. I woke up here, dressed and drawing.”

“A psychiatrist would have a field day with you, you know?”

She grinned at that. “It is somewhat worrisome, but...”

“So what did you draw?” he asked her.

“La Porte Rouge. It’s pretty good, actually, if I do say so myself. But it doesn’t really tell me anything.”

Quinn walked over to her, setting his hands on her shoulders as he studied the drawing. He saw the bar as if he were standing in the cross-street entrance. To his left was the bandstand, and to his right was the bar. Jessica was there, and Eric Lyons was setting drinks on her tray. The place was crowded, but most of the faces in the crowd were indistinct, faded. He could see that Billie was offstage, sitting with Hattie, Father Ryan and Natasha. He and Danni were onstage with Shamus, Gus, Blake and Tyler.

Tyler’s saxophone seemed to be the focal point of the drawing. It was slightly oversize.

“Great drawing,” Quinn told her. “Wish I could draw a tenth so well wide awake, much less in my sleep.”

“What do you think it means?” she asked him.

“I don’t know. It looks like it’s just a picture of where we’ve been, but your mind must have been trying to tell you something about it, since you drew it,” he said carefully.

“You’re not being honest,” she said.

He glanced at her quickly. She could read him so well.

“I’m never quite sure what it means—your sleep-drawing. But I think this picture means that
you
think the murderer was in the bar the night when we both were playing. And that he’s one of the people whose faces you’ve drawn.”

Danni frowned. “I don’t. Or maybe I just don’t want to. I like the guys we were playing with. I like everyone there.”

Quinn hesitated, well aware that things could be hitting too close to home. One of Danni’s trusted employees had once proved to be involved in what could best be described as demonic rites.

“Still, not a bad place to concentrate,” Quinn said. “It’s the last place Arnie was before he was killed.”

She stood up suddenly. “Arnie,” she said.

“Is gone.”

“Yes, but Quinn, the killer hasn’t gone after his parents’ house yet. But he will. He’s bound to.”

“Tyler has been staying with them.”

“Staying with them, yes. But he doesn’t get there till morning. What about all night, before he shows up? Why doesn’t the killer show up before Tyler gets there? Or, if it’s Tyler he wants, why doesn’t he get there early and then ambush Tyler when he shows up? I can’t believe we haven’t thought about protecting them yet.”

“I’m guessing the killer doesn’t think they have the sax. He’s convinced that a musician somewhere in the city has it.”

“And there’s what’s frightening. Tyler is a sax player. The player most likely to have Arnie’s special sax if the killer figures Arnie’s parents would have been as likely to give it to one of Arnie’s friends as sell it with the rest of his stuff,” she said. “And if the killer can’t find it with any of the Survivor Set, eventually he’ll think Arnie’s parents must have it after all and go after them.”

She was right, he realized, feeling irritated he hadn’t thought things through that way himself.

“I can head over and talk to them now,” he said. “See what I can do to convince them that they need to take special care.”

“Special care? They need to stay somewhere else altogether,” Danni said.

“And you think they can afford that? Or that they’ll even consider leaving their home?”

“If they like living, yes!”

Quinn looked at Danni’s drawing again. Her subconscious didn’t steer her wrong. It was time to start looking at Tyler’s bandmates, who just happened to be the last people who had been with Arnie on the night he died.

“There’s also Arnie’s friend,” Danni said.

“Which friend?” Quinn asked.

“I didn’t get to tell you. There was too much going on last night.”

“Okay. Tell me now.”

“Arnie had a close friend in the military. His name is Kevin Hart—Corporal Kevin Hart. He stepped on a mine, and now he’s up in Walter Reed, doing rehab after getting a prosthetic leg. Hattie said she can help us get to see him. If Arnie was as close to this guy as Tyler says, he might have told him things he didn’t tell anyone else, maybe things about people here in town. Maybe he even entrusted his special sax to him.”

“That’s a long shot.”

“What else have we got?”

“Following up on the musicians around here, on people who knew about the sax. Maybe following through on that Survivor Set connection.”

“All right, I agree with you that we have to do all that, but I think it’s important that we talk to Kevin Hart, too.”

“But we can’t be here and also there.”

“I could go,” Danni said.

“I don’t want you going anywhere alone,” he said quickly. Maybe too quickly, and a little too harshly. He saw her bite down lightly on her lower lip.

Her tone, in turn, was cool. “Fine. You could go.”

“I’m afraid to go. Too much is happening here, most of it dangerous. I need to keep an eye on things.”

“You mean keep an eye on
me
. Quinn,” she said, walking to the door and shaking her head, “you have to have faith in other people sometimes. You can’t save the world on your own, you know. I have Wolf, Billie, Bo Ray and now Brad and Jenny.”

“I do have faith in you. I just don’t think either one of us should leave here. Not even for a night.”

“And
I
think it’s important to talk to Kevin Hart. One of us can stay, and the other one can go.”

“No.”

“Then we both need to go.”

“No.”

“You have to have some faith in me.”

“I have tremendous faith in you.”

“So you don’t think I can take care of myself, even with a houseful of people?”

“I didn’t say that. We’re a team.”

Danni sighed in aggravation. “Not much of a team if you don’t have any faith in me or my judgment.”

“Wait a minute, Danni. Just wait. Even if Arnie spilled his heart out to this guy, why think he’d have anything to say that would help? The guy isn’t from NOLA. He wouldn’t have known any place or person Arnie was talking about. Not to mention the guy is in bad shape, so we could just be adding bad news to what he’s already going through.”

“I’m sure he already knows that Arnie is dead. The military grapevine is pretty efficient. And I’m sure he’d want to help in any way he can to catch Arnie’s killer. He knew Arnie, and that’s what’s important, Quinn. He might know something about Arnie that Tyler doesn’t, that his folks don’t—maybe something Arnie was keeping from people here on purpose. The point is, we’re not getting anywhere, and people keep dying. I’m going to check on flights. You can come with me to see him or not.”

As she walked out of the room he called out after her, “Hey! That’s not teamwork. That’s being a dictator.”

Wolf looked at him and barked, obviously unhappy about a family argument.

Danni was probably right again, and he knew it. But that didn’t change anything. He didn’t like the idea of leaving town when people were still in danger and when they were just starting to associate themselves with the music scene.

He definitely didn’t like the concept of leaving Danni
in those circumstances, though he wasn’t any happier about letting her leave on her own.

Irritated, he walked into the kitchen, where Danni was sitting at her computer and apparently chatting casually with Brad and Jenny, both of whom looked at him with uneasy expressions. They’d undoubtedly heard the argument.

“Coffee?” Jenny asked him, her voice pointedly cheerful.

“No, thanks,” he said.

He strode quickly up the stairs and back to the bedroom to get dressed.

Back downstairs, he went straight to the courtyard door, but Danni saw him as he passed the kitchen, because he heard her jump up and come after him, calling, “Quinn!”

“What?”

“Where are you going?”

“To see Arnie’s parents.”

He didn’t wait for her to suggest that she come with him.

Wolf had trotted along with him to the door. “Watch her, boy. Watch her and watch the shop, okay?” He scratched Wolf’s ears, his other hand on the doorknob.

“You’re being unreasonable,” she said.

“Really? When you went rushing over to Jenny and Brad’s the other night without thinking?”

“I
did
think. I called—”

“Whatever,” he said.

He walked out the door, pulling it closed behind him.

As soon as he was in the car, he realized she was right. He
didn’t
have enough faith in her to leave her on her own. That wasn’t bad—not really. It meant he cared, that she had become everything to him. He simply didn’t want her to be alone. No, not alone—without him. Maybe that meant he didn’t really have faith in
anyone
, anyone but himself.

Or maybe it just meant he was afraid. The killer had come to their house and would have broken in if not for Wolf.

Wolf, as incredible as he was, was still a dog. But Quinn told himself he could leave now because...

Because the murderer wasn’t killing by day. He was stalking at night or very early in the morning, when he had the least chance of being seen, or, if he was, of being noticed.

Or maybe that was when he was off work himself. Off work, and quickly wrapped in his coat, his mask hiding his identity.

That gave rise to another thought, and he called Larue. When the detective answered he said, “How do you feel about a press conference?”

Larue groaned. He hated press conferences.

“What did you have in mind? Shouldn’t we at least discuss this first? And why now? You have something? A lead? A solid clue?”

“No, sorry. I’m thinking of the city. I think we need to tell people what we know about the killer’s appearance, what they need to be on the lookout for. Can you call it for about five this afternoon? I need to make a call and then go shopping.”

“Shopping?” Larue asked.

“Show and tell. You’ll understand. I’ll meet you at the station by four thirty.”

* * *

Danni sat back from the computer, satisfied.

It was possible to catch a flight at eight in the morning and be in Washington by eleven local time. An hour for traffic would bring them to Bethesda and the hospital by twelve or twelve thirty. Two hours there, then an hour back to the airport, and they could catch a five-thirty flight that would land them back in New Orleans by seven thirty. Even if it took them an hour to get back into the city, there would be no problem. They could still sit in with the band.

“You found what you wanted?” Jenny asked her.

“I did. It’s all possible,” Danni said.

“What’s possible?” Brad asked.

“Getting in a quick trip to Walter Reed.”

“You’re going to go away
now
?” Jenny asked, clearly upset. She turned to Brad with panic-stricken eyes.

Danni knew they had heard her arguing with Quinn, so she quickly said, “We’ll only be gone about twelve hours, all of them in daylight.”

She picked up her phone, ready to call Quinn. But then she hesitated, thinking about the way he’d walked out on her. She’d wanted to go with him to Arnie Watson’s house, but he had left without her.

She excused herself and walked back into her studio to decide what to do next.

Wolf, following at her side, whined.

“You know what, boy? I have my own car. I can hop right in it and follow him on over there. And you know what else? I’m going to do just that!”

As she spoke, Billie stuck his head in to ask what was up.