The Dead Play On (19 page)

“Danni and I both knew him back in high school. He was a musical genius even then,” Quinn said.

“Damn, this sucks,” Kevin said. “And I’d do anything in my power to at least catch whoever killed him. But I’ve never even been in New Orleans, you know?”

“We were hoping that maybe he had told you about someone who was jealous of him, someone he had some kind of beef with, especially someone who was part of the music scene,” Danni said.

“Arnie wasn’t a fighter. Well, that sounds odd—he was a great soldier. I mean that he didn’t like to pick fights. If someone had a problem with him, he wanted it out in the open so they could talk it out. He didn’t harbor resentments. If they disliked him, well, he was sorry, but they didn’t have to hang with him. In the service you’re with who you’re with, but you learn to get along.” He frowned. “You don’t think it was someone he served with, do you?”

“No, we don’t,” Danni told him. “We’re as close to certain as it’s possible to be that it has to be someone who lives in New Orleans and knows the city backward and forward. Whoever is doing this disappears into courtyards or down alleys, or blends in with the crowd so quickly you’d barely have time to blink. It has to be a local.”

“That’s good to hear,” Kevin said. He shook his head. “Arnie made a point of getting along with everyone. I do know one thing, though, that he wasn’t telling anyone else.”

“What’s that?” Danni asked.

“He was in love.”

“With who?” Quinn asked.

“That I don’t know. He said I would be the first to know, if and when he found out if she loved him, too.” He shrugged. “He told me, ‘Kevin, I found the girl I want to bring home to my mama. In my family, that means a lot.’ I guess he thought anybody knowing about her would jinx him. He said he never mentioned it to anyone else—not even Tyler.”

“So he liked her but didn’t know if she liked him?” Danni asked.

“I’m not sure she had any idea Arnie was crazy about her. I think he’d been admiring her from afar for a long time. But I don’t think knowing her name would help you any. If Arnie was in love with a girl, I don’t think she’d be a homicidal maniac. Anyway, who the hell kills people over a sax?”

Danni glanced at Quinn. He didn’t respond. She didn’t know everything about his police work or some of the things he’d been involved with before they met, but she did know that he’d seen people kill for what most of humanity would consider ridiculous reasons.

Kevin answered the question himself. “How can I ask that, coming back from war? People get crazy things in their heads—ideas, beliefs, customs—and then they kill.”

Danni set a hand on his. “We’re trying to stop this killer,” she said. “And anything you can do to help...”

“Of course,” Kevin said. “Ask me anything you want. And I’ll give you my cell number, too. If you think of anything at any time, feel free to call me.”

“We will, thank you,” Quinn said. “What about the guys in the band Arnie usually played with? Did he ever talk to you about any of them?”

“Tyler’s band?” Kevin asked. “The B-Street Bombers?”

“Yes,” Danni said. “So you know them? Well, about them, I mean.”

“Sure. Arnie talked about them all the time. I could practically see them just from his descriptions, but he had pictures, too. He said Shamus was a massive flirt. I think he liked Gus Epstein the most, after Tyler. Said he came at music with a quiet wonder—that was his exact phrase.” He paused, frowning. “I guess if he ever had a problem with any of the guys it was Blake. Blake was like Arnie—could play almost anything. Arnie said Blake took his sax from him once to show him how he thought something should sound.”

“So they fought?” Quinn asked.

“No, I told you, Arnie wouldn’t have fought over something like that. He mostly thought it was funny. He said everyone just kind of stared, ’cause when it came to the sax, no one was better than Arnie. Supposedly he had a magic sax.” Kevin was quiet for a minute, smiling at a memory. “Arnie said it did have magic—the magic of the love his grandmother gave him.”

“Whether it’s true or not, our killer thinks the sax is really magic, the kind of magic that makes everyone who plays it better,” Danni said. “That’s our theory, at any rate. Do you have any idea what he might have done with that sax? Did he have a hiding place? Could he have given it to one of the men he served with?”

“No. Arnie had the sax overseas, but he took it home with him. To the best of my knowledge, at least.” He paused for a moment then nodded toward the harpist. “She’s good, but nothing can touch Arnie’s smooth jazz.”

“Well, no one can ever be Arnie or play like Arnie,” Quinn said. “But the B-Street Bombers are good. A friend of ours is playing sax with them now, along with Tyler. You’ve got to hear them sometime.”

“I’d like that,” Kevin said.

“You’ve met Tyler, right?”

“Sure. When we were on base in Kuwait, the USO set up a bunch of Skype calls for us. I’ve talked to Tyler. I even said I’d be coming to New Orleans to hear him play one day.”

“You’ve still got to come. I have a big house,” Danni said.

“We even have an extra house. I have a place in the Garden District. Barely use it anymore,” Quinn said.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that one day. I have to visit Arnie’s grave, you know?” Kevin said. “Pay my respects. But for now, while I’m stuck in this place, don’t hesitate to call.” He gave them his cell number.

“We appreciate it,” Quinn said. “And we
will
call if we think of anything else.”

Major Johnson seemed to know that the conversation was finished. He came over and told Quinn and Danni, “Just in case we get caught in traffic, I’d better get you to the airport. Hattie made me promise not to let you miss your plane. Kevin, you need any help with anything?”

Kevin shook his head. “I’m good.” He stood up and shook their hands. “You call me. For anything.”

“Thank you,” Danni said.

As they left the cafeteria, she turned back to wave to Kevin and saw him staring at the harpist, a smile on his face. He must have sensed her attention, because he turned to her, still smiling, and waved.

She thought there was something infinitely sad in his smile. On impulse, she ran back and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said.

“I told you I would do anything to—”

“No, I mean, thank you for serving our country. Please do come visit. We’d love to show our appreciation.”

“Will do,” he promised her.

Danni hurried to catch up with Quinn and Johnson. Quinn was looking back, and she saw him meet Kevin’s eyes. The two men saluted at the same time, and Danni realized they shared something she would never really understand.

* * *

“Maybe I was crazy to think it was so important to talk to Kevin,” Danni said. “I’m not sure what we learned.”

She was looking out the plane window. Quinn reached over and touched her cheek. “Sometimes what we didn’t learn is as important as what we did.”

She laughed softly and drew a pattern on the window. “And what didn’t we learn?”

“Well, we can be sure that sax is somewhere in New Orleans.”

“Are we really sure of that?”

“Okay, maybe it’s more of a theory, but every investigation has to operate on theory until there’s proof. But from everything we’ve learned, Arnie was a really good guy. He was friends with everyone. He liked the guys in his unit, and he was best friends with Kevin. But he didn’t give the saxophone to anyone he served with, so that means it’s most likely in New Orleans.”

“Do you think that sax can really be magic?” Danni asked him. “And what if that magic can be used for evil?”

He was thoughtful. “Even if it can, whoever is after it doesn’t have it yet. And you and I have seen enough to know that sometimes there are things we can’t really explain. But some magic...” He paused. “Some magic may be nothing more than our belief in something—an outcome, an ability—manifesting as reality.”

“You’re talking about self-fulfilling prophecies,” Danni said.

“In a way,” he told her. “I’m just saying that in this case, I think we’re talking about belief. Arnie became such a phenomenal player because he
believed
his sax was special, even magic. It’s pretty astounding what we can do when we believe in ourselves.”

She gave him an enigmatic smile and turned back to the window. He squeezed her hand, and she looked back at him curiously.

“And each other,” he added softly.

She lowered her head, nodding. “I’ve always believed in you.”

“That is a bald-faced lie!” he reminded her. “You hated me.”

“
Hate
is a very strong word. I merely thought you were...different.”

“And now?”

She grinned. “Now I
know
you’re different. But so am I,” she added softly. Then she said in a very businesslike tone, “What else didn’t we learn?”

“Actually, now we’re on to what we
did
learn,” he said.

“That Arnie was in love?”

“Exactly. No matter what Kevin said, we have to consider the possibility that she’s guilty. We need to find out who Arnie was in love with.”

“Right. In a city filled with women.”

“I’m assuming we’re looking for someone in her midtwenties to early thirties. And since he spent most of his time playing music when he was home, I’m also going to assume that he met her while he was working.”

“He played several places.”

“But mostly La Porte Rouge.”

“You’re thinking Jessica?”

“Yes.”

“You think Jessica killed all those people? She couldn’t have. Everyone said it was a man.”

“How could they tell? The killer was in a trench coat and mask. They couldn’t be certain.”

“She has a toddler.”

“So having a child means you can’t be a killer?”

“I just can’t believe it.”

“I don’t really believe it, either. But we have to take everything into consideration. Anyway, somehow I have to get out of babysitting Jenny at night. I need to be back at La Porte Rouge,” he said determinedly.

“Babysitting?” Danni protested.

“I’m sorry. I know she’s your friend, it’s just that she’s so...needy. Anyway, I’ll go with them tonight. I know you’ll be all right, with Billie, Tyler and Father Ryan, but I’m becoming more and more convinced—call it a gut instinct—this all goes back to La Porte Rouge.”

“What about the woman who was attacked with her bandmates?” Danni asked. “The timetable has Arnie dying first, and then the attack on the musicians leaving Frenchman Street. Maybe the killer knows something we don’t. Maybe she’s the one Arnie was in love with, and that’s why the killer was convinced that she had the sax.”

“Lily Parker,” Quinn said, remembering his interview with her, Jeff Braman and Rowdy Tambor.

In his mind’s eye he could see the day at the police station when he had questioned them. Lily was pretty. Arnie might have been drawn to her.

“Lily Parker, right,” Danni said.

“Maybe, but I’m still betting we’re looking closer to home.”

“Home being La Porte Rouge?”

“Yes.”

“There’s the other woman,” Danni pointed out. “Eric Lyons’s part-time bartender.”

“Good point,” Quinn said. “Try talking casually to her tonight or whenever she’s in next. Talk to Jessica, too, and find out how they felt about Arnie. And talk to the band and to Eric and anyone else you can. Eventually, if I’m right, and the killer is someone associated with La Porte Rouge, someone will say something—even if inadvertently—that will give us what we need. I’ll make sure I’m back at La Porte Rouge by tomorrow night.”

Chapter 12

HOME WAS EVEN
more of a “full house” than it had been when Danni had left that morning.

The Watsons, Tyler, Bo Ray, Brad, Jenny and Billie were all there, as she had expected. But Natasha was there, as well as Father Ryan—and a man Danni didn’t know.

Father Ryan was quick to introduce him as Pastor Ben Cooke of the Baptist church the Watsons attended. Father Ryan had called on him to come over because the Watsons were in need of a little spiritual support.

Danni was embarrassed to realize that when she had been at Walter Reed, she had entirely forgotten the turmoil that was going to be part of the Watsons’ next months—even years—as they tried to put their home and their lives back together.

To her surprise, though, they were in better shape than she had expected.

While doling out paper plates for the pizza they’d decided on so that everyone had something to eat before heading out for the night, Danni assured Amy Watson that everyone she knew would help once the crime scene tape came down and it was possible to start fixing the house.

“Oh, honey, I know we’ll get the house taken care of, don’t you fear none. A house don’t mean nothing. Losing my boy, now, that will take some learning to live with. I don’t say ‘getting over,’ because you never get over it. You just learn to live with it because you’re still on the journey with other people you love and who love you. And we’re lucky. We have our other children, and we’re blessed with a bounty of friends.”

“Amy, we will find the man who did this,” Danni swore then wondered if it really could have been a woman. But witnesses had said it was a man. People could pull off all kinds of disguises, she knew. And the stereotypes of the past were going away. But biology remained the same, and some of the things the killer had done had taken a great deal of strength.

Father Ryan walked over. “Come on, darlin’, let’s get those plates moving.”

Amy laughed, took the plates from Danni and started handing them out. Danni smiled at Father Ryan. “I didn’t know you were friends with the Baptists.”

“And why not? We’re not so different.” He shrugged. “One of my best friends is a voodoo priestess, why not a Baptist? And if that throws you for a loop, I’ll bring over Rabbi Abramson next time I come.”

Despite the fact that she was so tired she felt as if she had a hangover, and despite the fear gripping the city, Danni found the evening strangely pleasant. They talked about sports and movies and art as they ate pizza, and drank water and beer and soda.

Then it was time for the musicians to head off to their respective venues. Quinn, Brad and Jenny headed out first in Quinn’s car. Then Danni got up to leave with Billie, Tyler, Natasha and Father Ryan, and, as they headed to the door, she realized that Pastor Cooke was joining them, too.

Tyler, walking by Danni’s side, said jokingly as they left the house, “What’s this world coming to? We’re heading to work accompanied by a voodoo priestess, a priest and a pastor. Everyone at La Porte Rouge is going to be afraid to sin!”

Soft laughter followed his words.

Billie was in the lead, his head bowed in deep thought. Behind them, Natasha, Pastor Cooke and Father Ryan were involved in conversation. And Danni realized that Tyler had been waiting for his chance to talk to her.

“How was Kevin Hart?” he asked her.

“He’s overcome so much. He’s an amazing guy,” she said.

“I’d like to meet the man face-to-face one day. I feel close to him, you know? We shared a best friend.”

“We invited him to visit sometime, when he’s ready, of course. So maybe you’ll get your chance.”

“You know someone like him, and you just want to help them, you know?” Tyler said. “But I guess what’s most important at the moment is, was he able to help at all?”

“Yes and no,” Danni said. “He didn’t know anyone who didn’t get along with Arnie. But there is one thing. Did you know anything about Arnie being interested in a woman? Someone he might have been falling in love with?”

Tyler looked surprised and shook his head. “Arnie liked to flirt, but he was never obnoxious about it. He was a good-looking guy in great shape. A lot of women gave him that look, you know? But if there was someone...he didn’t tell me. Damn. Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He didn’t tell Kevin who it was. He just told him that there was someone. It sounded like he had a massive crush on someone and didn’t think she felt the same way about him, so he hadn’t said anything to her.”

“He could have told me anything,” Tyler said.

“Did he sneak off a lot? Hide what he was doing?”

Tyler laughed at that. “We were friends—I wasn’t his keeper. He was living at his parents’ house, but he was a grown man. You’d have to ask the Watsons whether he came home every night or not.”

“Thanks,” Danni told him. “I will ask them.”

They’d reached La Porte Rouge. A small, sluggish crowd was in. Monday nights didn’t tend to be wild, but since the city had begun its laborious comeback after the summer of storms, every night meant that someone was in the city, barhopping along Bourbon. The hawkers on the street had to work harder on Monday nights, but there were usually enough people to keep them busy, just with more breaks between spiels.

Shamus, Gus and Blake were setting up when they arrived. Before they could even say hello, Shamus greeted them with, “Did you hear what happened to Arnie’s house last night? It was all over the news. Place totally trashed. Man, someone had a vengeance bone out for him or someone in his family.”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been with Arnie’s folks most of the day.”

“They doing okay?” Blake asked.

“Yeah, as much as anyone could after everything they’ve been through,” Tyler said.

“Must be another maniac in the city,” Shamus said. “I mean, whoever it was couldn’t have gone there to kill Arnie, ’cause Arnie’s already dead. This is getting bad, really bad.”

“Worse and worse,” Blake said.

“But at least his folks are all right. They are, aren’t they?” Shamus asked anxiously.

“Yeah, yeah, they were out staying with friends. Didn’t know a thing about it until the police told them,” Tyler said.

Danni watched the band members as they spoke, and she wondered if she should be worried
for
them or
because
of them.

Kevin had said that Blake had taken the sax from Arnie to show him how something should be played but they hadn’t fought, because Arnie didn’t fight.

At that moment, at least, Blake appeared to be just as concerned about the Watsons as everyone else.

“We need to stay together, just like we’ve been doing,” Blake said. “See each other home, watch the damned door. Hey, I wonder if that police press conference about the killer dressing up in a trench coat and a mask scared him off from breaking in, at least when people are home.”

“Maybe,” Tyler said.

“Maybe he’ll just change his mask,” Gus said.

They all looked at him.

“Hey, this is Mardi Gras town—the guy could dress up as the Statue of Liberty and no one would notice him.”

That was probably true, Danni thought. “Let’s hope he doesn’t,” she said.

Father Ryan, Natasha and Pastor Cooke had already found themselves a table a little distance from the stage, so she walked over to sit with them for a minute.

Jessica arrived at the table just after she did. She looked at Danni, her eyes wide, and asked the same question Shamus had. “You heard what happened to the Watson house?”

Danni nodded.

“So awful. They’re such nice people. It’s horrible. I guess not as horrible as—” She broke off, shaking her head, and tried to smile. After all, Bourbon Street was synonymous with having a good time, and waitresses weren’t supposed to be grim and shivering. She teased about them not being much of a drinking crowd, seeing as there were two clergymen in the mix, and Father Ryan laughed and told her that he liked wine, just not that night.

Then Jessica turned to Danni. “Did you have a chance to work on those duets yet?”

“No,” Danni apologized. “But I will. I swear.” That gave her a great opening, so she hopped up and followed Jessica to the bar.

Startled when she realized Danni was right behind her, Jessica turned. “Did I forget something?” she asked.

“No, I just...I wanted to ask you a few questions about Arnie,” Danni said.

“Arnie?” Jessica repeated, her voice soft and something cloudy in her eyes. “What can I tell you? He was a great sax player, a great musician. And one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met.”

“Did you ever go out with him?” Danni asked.

Jessica blushed and set her tray on the bar. “Arnie? No, no, we were friends, just friends. Did someone tell you we were dating or something? I don’t think anyone would say that. Because we weren’t. Why? Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I talked to a friend of his today, and apparently there was someone special in his life,” Danni said.

“I never saw him with anyone, but... Eric?” Jessica said. The bartender was just placing a glass of seltzer with a squeeze of lime in front of a customer at the bar. “Did you ever see Arnie in here with a woman? Did he have something going on that maybe you knew about?”

Eric turned their way. “Arnie was a good-looking guy. He had that bad-boy smile, even though he wasn’t a bad boy at all. Lots of girls liked him.”

“But no one special that you know of?” Danni asked.

Eric and Jessica looked at each other then shook their heads in unison.

“Sorry, Danni. I don’t know of anyone,” Eric said.

“What about Sharon Eastman, the woman who helps you out on the weekends?” Danni asked him.

Once again, Eric and Jessica looked at one another.

“I know she liked Arnie,” Jessica said.

“And Arnie liked her,” Eric said. “But not like that, as far as I know.” Eric shook his head. “You’ll have to ask her, though, and she’s not back in until Thursday night.”

“Thanks,” she told them.

“Danni!” Tyler called to her.

They were about to go on for the night, she realized.

Being backup, she spent a lot of time just moving to the music or shaking the tambourine. She prayed that her eyes wouldn’t close and that she wouldn’t fall asleep onstage.

As the night went on, the neon lights in the bar began blending together, and the music became a sonic blur.

“Hey! You all right?”

Danni started. It was Blake.

She smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“We’re taking a break.”

“Oh. Oh!”

She walked off the stage. Tyler caught her by the arm and walked her to the table. “Danni needs to get home,” he told Father Ryan.

“No, I’m fine, really.”

“It’s no problem,” Tyler said. “It’s a Monday night, quiet as a graveyard, and I know you haven’t slept. Father Ryan, why don’t you and Pastor Cooke go on ahead with Danni? We’ll be cutting things short tonight, anyway.”

“And what about me, Mr. Tyler Anderson?” Natasha demanded indignantly.

“My deepest apologies!” Tyler said dramatically. “You’re young, so I figure you’re accustomed to keeping later hours.”

“I’ll have you know I’m not about to move into senior housing yet!” Father Ryan said.

“No, no, it’s just that you’ve been such a trouper, and I’m sure you’re not usually up so late this many nights in a row,” Tyler said, desperately trying to talk his way out of the verbal mess he’d made, albeit with the best of intentions.

Then Father Ryan laughed, setting them all at ease.

“I’m more worried about Billie than I am about myself,” Danni said. “I can’t play an instrument for love or money, but Billie is an amazing musician.”

“I’ll make sure he gets home safely,” Tyler said. “And Natasha, too, if she needs an escort.”

“No need. I’ll leave when Danni does,” Natasha said.

“All right, then, thanks,” Danni said. She looked toward the bar. Eric Lyons was busy filling a tray of drinks for Jessica. Despite what Jessica had said, she couldn’t help but wonder about her relationship with Arnie. And yet, as she watched Jessica’s body language with Eric, they seemed to be close. His fingers brushed Jessica’s hands as he dropped swizzle sticks into glasses.

She hurried over to the bar. “Jessica, you don’t walk home alone, do you?”

“No, no,” Jessica said, her cheeks flushed. “Eric sees me home, and if he can’t, one of the guys in the band always does. And when I get home—” she shrugged with a smile “—my mom is there.”

She realized that they had to consider the possibility that the murderer could be a woman, even the unknown love of Arnie’s life. But as she looked at Jessica’s big blue eyes and guileless smile, she told herself that she just couldn’t be the Sax Murderer.

“I will always make sure she’s safe,” Eric said.

Danni nodded. “Good. So...good night.”

“Don’t forget to look at those songs,” Jessica said.

“I won’t,” Danni said, and hoped she wasn’t lying.

Father Ryan, Pastor Cooke and Natasha were waiting for her at the table.

They reached the house on Royal Street without incident. Wolf greeted them joyously, and Woodrow Watson once again sat on guard duty with his shotgun by his side.

* * *

When it was time to quit for the night, Quinn told Brad that he was going to move over to La Porte Rouge the next night. Brad nodded gravely, understanding.

Jenny heard and came over. “You can’t!” she gasped.

“We’re pretty sure everything’s tied to the group over there,” Quinn explained.

“But I was attacked!” Jenny said, incredulous and angry.

“Yes, and thank God you’re all right. But the killer has already been to your place. He’s after something Arnie had, and he knows you don’t have it,” Quinn explained. “He’s moved on, and he’ll keep moving on until he finds what he’s looking for.”

“Jenny,” Brad said. “I won’t leave you alone again, I promise.”

Their bandmates had come up by then, and Steve said, “Jenny, we’ll all leave here together, and we’ll all make sure you two get to Danni’s place safely.”

Quinn just hoped that with everyone so on edge, an innocent bystander wasn’t going to get shot. But he knew that Brad knew how to use a gun, and his head was noticeably cooler than Jenny’s.