“Indeed, she did,” said Roxy. “I hope the reading wasn’t too uncomfortable for you.”
“Well, it was at the time,” said Sylvia. “But sometimes it’s good to be uncomfortable. I feel renewed and happy now.”
Roxy smiled. “I’m so glad to hear it. Now, tell me, what would you like for breakfast? We can do just about anything you want. The full works, if you like, or beignets that are up-to-the-minute fresh.”
“Ooh, what about bacon and eggs?” Sylvia said.
“Coming right up!” said Roxy. “Why not have them with a New Orleans twist—eggs deviled with Cajun spice, and praline bacon?”
“Yum. Sounds wonderful!” Sylvia said.
Roxy dashed into the kitchen to give Nat Sylvia’s order, then came back out to chat with the influencer while she waited.
“So how have you enjoyed your time with us so far?” Roxy said. “I know, of course, with…Dash, it’s not quite the same. But I hope you’re still getting something out of your trip.”
“Oh, yes,” said Sylvia. “It is tragic about that young man. He was so young, with so much life to live. And I feel for Michael and Kathy and Derek so much. I’m praying for their healing.” With a sad expression, Sylvia looked down at her fingers on the tablecloth. Roxy noticed they were a little gnarled with arthritis. Sylvia lifted her head before resuming. “This is the first time I’ve been to New Orleans. While I love your hotel, especially the staff and food, I’d love to get out and see more of the city. I need to take more photos and videos for my Instagram account. My followers are like greedy children. They need feeding every couple of hours.”
“How about we all take a cruise down the river? Nat and I were just talking about it. How does that sound?”
“Fabulous,” said Sylvia, smiling. “I’m looking forward to it already.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
THE FEELING THAT everything was going to be just fine continued as everyone came down for breakfast. Lily Vashchenko glided down the staircase with a smile while Ada was a little kinder than usual. She even asked Sylvia how the previous evening had gone. Derek was, as always, extremely quiet and shy, but Kathy took care of him. She helped him order a huge breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausages, beans, rice, and French toast. Everyone marveled at how he stayed so thin.
“We’re planning on a cruise down the Mississippi later. Is everyone up for that?” Roxy asked. They all nodded in agreement.
“Dash loved the water,” said Kathy.
Roxy leaned over and gave her a hug. “You sound so incredibly strong, Kathy.”
The older woman held her head high. “Dash would have wanted me to be. I can hear his voice now. ‘Don’t worry about it, Mom!’ he’d say. He always said that. I’m trying to channel his spirit instead of being a ball of anxiety. I want to be like him, fearless and brave.”
Later that morning, they headed out for the boat ride. Roxy called Michael at his hotel to see if he would come along, but there was no answer. A few reporters still hung around the steps outside, so a plan was hatched to avoid them. Three of them acted as decoy and went out the front door. Once they saw Nat, Sylvia, and Derek emerge from the Funky Cat, the reporters immediately ignored them and returned to distractedly scrolling endlessly on their phones while the more newsworthy quarry of Roxy, Lily, and Kathy escaped via the back. They met up on the street at the end of the alleyway. The group walked along the streets of New Orleans together in a gaggle beneath a bright sun. The sky was a wonderful, creamy blue. It was a beautiful day for a cruise.
“Some of the best boat rides go from the French Quarter,” Nat said. “Let’s head in that direction.”
So they did and found themselves a glorious steamer. The captain was standing around on the riverfront, looking bored. He looked as though he had been there a while, and no one was interested in what he had to offer. Monday mornings were pretty quiet.
It was a very large boat—named Marie—and far too large for their small party. Roxy guessed 200 people could have fit onto it. But there was no one else around. Nat barreled her way to the front of their group and demonstrated to them, and the captain, her negotiating chops. They had been honed in the flea markets of New Orleans. Nat skillfully persuaded the captain to allow them to commandeer the entire boat for just a small fee so that they could leave immediately and keep their party private. Roxy knew she was getting an amazing bargain, and with a nod to Nat, produced her business credit card before the man could change his mind.
“Where’s the bartender?” Lily asked when they got on board.
“It’s Monday. It’s her day off,” the captain growled.
As one, their faces fell. Their disappointment was total. They had been looking forward to their cocktails.
“No problem! I can do it. Before Instagram came along, I supported my travels with bartending. That’s how I got started in this biz.” They all turned to look at Sylvia, a gray-haired, cargo-panted, slightly arthritic, sixty-something woman, in surprise and not a little respect. “If I can have access to the bar, I can make us all cocktails.”
Seven pairs of eyes immediately swiveled to the steamer’s captain, and after a few moments pause during which he surveyed their eager expressions one by one as he considered Sylvia’s request, he reached for a huge bunch of keys, one of which unlocked the bar. Sylvia immediately got to work cleaning glasses and checking the stock.
“It’s a bit early for me,” Roxy said when she saw Sylvia reach for some brandy. It was only 11 o’clock.
“Don’t you worry, my dear, mocktails are my specialty. I’ll rustle up something delicious you’ll love.”
Soon they were out on the open water, cocktails and mocktails in hand.
Roxy stood nearby the captain in the pilothouse. “So, why Marie?”
“After Marie Laveau, of course!” The boat’s captain wasn’t particularly polite and certainly not gracious. “Rough around the edges,” Nat would have called him.
“Who’s Marie Laveau?”
“Only the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans!” he said. “Her mausoleum is in the Saint Louis cemetery. You haven’t heard of it?” He looked at her incredulously. “People still go to her grave and ask her to grant them their wishes.”
“Huh,” Roxy said.
“You have to mark an X on the grave, turn around three times, then yell out your wish. If it’s granted, you’re to come back, draw a circle around the X, and leave her an offering as thanks,” the captain continued. “If you don’t, well, you know…” He raised his eyebrows as high as they would go.
Just a few months ago, faced with a comment like that, Roxy would have felt as though she’d entered a different world. Now that she was steeped in the mysticism of the city, she didn’t blink an eye. “Oh, I’ll have to visit,” she said mildly.
The cruise was delightful. Jazz music wafted through the speakers, making it all the more relaxing. Nat got everyone tapping their feet and swaying as she sang along to the upbeat Hit the Road, Jack and the more soulful Cry Me a River. They got wonderful views of the city as they cruised by, and Lily and Ada and Sylvia took so many pictures and videos, that Roxy marveled at the full-time job it must be to sort out which shots would make it onto their social media accounts.
The cruise went on for a little over three hours, and thanks to Sylvia, the cocktails were colorful and became more intense (alcoholic) as the journey went on. By the time they cruised back to the dock they’d launched from, the whole party was playful and chatty. Even Derek had come out of his shell a little and was trotting up and down the top deck while his mother, frightened that he might fall in the water, told him to calm down. The group felt closer, somehow, like the water running beneath them had bonded them together.
“Great idea you had, Nat,” Roxy said, as the boat cruised back to its dock. Roxy felt relaxed for the first time in days.
“What?” Nat sat on a bench looking out from the side of the boat, her eyes closed, the gentle breeze from across the river making strands of her
bobbed hair dance.
“This cruise, it was a great idea. Got us all out in the fresh air. We needed it.” Roxy caught sight of a man standing on the riverside. “Oh no. Really? Now?”
“What?” Nat repeated.
“It’s him.”
“Who?” Nat stood and turned. She shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked toward the dock they had left from. Standing there waiting for their return was Detective Johnson.
Roxy disembarked first. She felt it was her duty as the owner of the hotel and organizer of the trip.
“Come here,” Johnson ordered, as soon as she stepped off the boat. Roxy bristled. It felt like a very hard reintroduction to the reality of life on the ground after their relaxing cruise on the water. Johnson held his hand up to the others who were readying to leave the paddleboat behind Roxy. “Ms. Reinhardt only. Everyone else must wait.”
Roxy’s heart thudded in her chest as Johnson led her away.
“What’s wrong?” Roxy said.
“Michael O’Sullivan was attacked last night. Beaten up and left unconscious. He was on the way back from an evening at your hotel, I understand.” Johnson looked at her. He squinted, deliberately lowering his head to study her.
“Oh, my gosh! Is he okay?”
“Yes, he is. He went to the hospital for some treatment and is now being monitored for a concussion, but he’ll be fine. I need all your guests to come to the station for questioning. I have squad cars standing by the curb. You need to explain to them all what’s going on.”
“Do you…do you think it has anything to do with Dash’s death?”
“I don’t know. Probably.”
Roxy closed her eyes in despair. What had she gotten these people into? And which one of them was a murderer?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
IF ROXY HAD felt like a billion dollars when stepping out of the Funky Cat earlier that day, she felt like less than a dime coming back in. It was still only late afternoon, but it felt like so much time had passed, it should have been late at night. Before they left the police station, Johnson had assembled the group in the lobby. Roxy, Nat, Kathy, Derek, Sylvia, Lily, and Ada stood before him. Various expressions of anger, boredom, and exhaustion stared back at him. “Now, you are all free to go, but I will be keeping an eye on you. No one must leave the city, and,” he glared at Roxy, “no meddling, d’ya hear me?” The group nodded and, grumbling just a little, turned to trudge their way out of the station and back to the Funky Cat.
“Well, we are certainly seeing the sights of New Orleans today,” Sylvia said cheerily. “Now we’ve seen the inside of the local police station!”
Roxy closed her eyes momentarily. Could this Instagram promotion campaign get any worse?
When they arrived back at the hotel, Roxy and Nat headed straight for the kitchen to make po’ boy sandwiches. They were all ravenous. It was in the kitchen that they found Sage. She was wired. Roxy had come to know this was Sage’s “business” energy. When she was coding for her clients or working on the marketing for the Funky Cat, she was as sharp as a razor. She buzzed around getting things done at the speed of light. It was such a clear distinction from her usual, peaceful, floating energy and unquestionably and wordlessly telegraphed what she was doing.
Sage was munching on a beignet while tapping furiously away on her laptop with the other hand. “Client’s got a major issue,” she said through a mouthful. “I’m going to be gone for the rest of the day. You don’t need me for anything, do you?”
Roxy did need her. There was something so reassuring about having Sage around. The African-American woman felt like an ever-loving mother figure who could comfort Roxy and make her feel safe. But Roxy didn’t know how to say that. Plus, she was the proprietor of a hotel. She needed to be strong. An adult. “No problem,” Roxy said with a forced smile. “Go ahead. We’ll be fine.”
“Do you know what happened?” Nat asked Sage.
“No…what?”
Nat explained what had happened to Michael.
Sage frowned. “But Dr. Jack and Michael walked back together from here last night. How could that have happened?”
“Apparently they separated at some point and Michael walked on to the Hyatt alone,” Roxy said. “That’s when he was attacked, according to Detective Johnson.”
“Oh,” said Sage. “What is going on right now? The energies are very, very strange at the moment. Up and down, up and down, up and down, and all over the place.”
“I’ll say,” said Roxy.
“Well, I really must be going,” said Sage. “I’m so sorry, I know this isn’t a good time for me to jump ship, but I’ll send healing energy through the building and into the air so that you will all feel more grounded and at peace.”
Roxy smiled, not knowing if Sage was amazing or absolutely crazy.
Sage paused for a moment, closed her eyes, and waved her hands back and forth. Then she said a quick, “Goodbye! I leave you in love!” and was gone.
Nat and Roxy continued to make po’ boys in silence. The atmosphere in the kitchen was a little lighter, but still quite somber. Nat turned on Evangeline’s old-fashioned radio, and it crackled into life. The station played authentic Deep South jazz music, and the sounds of a double bass solo bubbled into the room, bringing some warmth with it.
After being grilled by Detective Johnson, no one was feeling particularly sociable, so Roxy and Nat took the roast beef po’ boys, chips, and salad to the guests’ rooms and returned to the dining room, where they sat down to eat. Roxy poured herself some coffee and offered Nat a cup. Nat shook her head.
“So who wasn’t here last night when Michael and Dr. Jack left?” Roxy mused.
“Well, Ada left earlier so she wasn’t here at all,” said Nat. “I think we need to keep a proper eye on her.”
“Yes, I know you don’t like her,” Roxy said, a little more sharply than she meant to. “But I don’t see a real motive for harming Michael, let alone killing Dash.”
“Oh, come on. Dash humiliated her.”
“I don’t think she’d kill for that,” said Roxy. “Anyway, I think it’s much more likely to be Lily. She wants to win the Hilton Hotels sponsorship, and Michael and Dash were after it too. Imagine if she took Dash out, and then last night she tried to stop Michael?” Roxy’s heart skipped a beat. “Remember, she ducked out when Sage offered to do a reading for her? She said she was going out to see her fans. I didn’t see what time she came back in. Did you?”
“No,” said Nat. “But it can’t be her. She’s so elegant and fine!”
“I think she has the strongest motive so far,” said Roxy. “And she doesn’t have good alibis. She was in the hotel the night Dash was killed and she was missing for part of last night too.
“Perhaps we can get in contact with the fans she saw,” said Nat, “and find out the time she was with them.”
Roxy sighed. “Johnson warned me off investigating right when Dash’s body was found, and you heard him in the lobby of the station earlier. We’re not supposed to investigate at all. We shouldn’t even be talking about it. I mean what are we thinking? We’re discussing which of our guests could be a murderer! Let’s talk about something else, get our minds off it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SO NAT TOLD Roxy all about the next pair of Doc Martens she planned to buy. They had a white skull and red roses design and came with bright red ribbon laces that looked just awesome when tied in a bow. Then Nat explained how she was going to upcycle the new table and sculpture they’d bought on their trip to the flea market and that a niche goth band that she liked would be in town later in the month and could she have an evening off to go see them?
“Of course,” Roxy said.
“Thank you. And now, I’m going to prep some vegetables in case anyone wants dinner later,” Nat announced.
Roxy got up from the table and stretched. “I feel so tired,” she said, “like all the energy’s been sucked out of me.”
Nat smiled wryly. �
��Being around Johnson will do that to a girl, right?”
Roxy sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Go have a nap.”
“I can’t,” said Roxy. “I have some admin stuff to do, and I also need to decide if I should speak to these darn reporters that are still hanging around. Elijah’s saying they are affecting his business. His regulars aren’t coming around so often because they are bothered by the reporters. He asked if I’d consider speaking to them. It might get them to go away, he said, but I’m not convinced. Sam agreed with him.”
“Yeah, but they’ve faded away now, pretty much,” Nat said. “There’s just a few left. It’s not like it was before. We didn’t even have any follow us when we went for the boat ride, did we?”
“That’s because we were clever,” said Roxy. “Still, it might be the proper thing for me to make some kind of statement. What do you think?”
Nat shrugged. “I have no idea, Rox. Just do what you want to do, I say.” She put their plates into the dishwasher. “See you later!” she called as Roxy picked up her coffee and headed to the tiny little office that was next to her bedroom. “I’ll be back in time to help you with dinner,” Roxy replied.
Roxy’s office had once been a much larger space, but it was rarely used and had become a dumping ground for all sorts of items that “might come in useful someday.” The room had been filled with spare crockery, a broken washing machine, and bed linen that no one ever used. Papers from as far back as the 1980s had been strewn next to electrical parts that no one knew what to do with. There had even been a bicycle wheel propped up against the wall. During the refurbishment, the junk had been cleared out, and walls were put up to divide the space into a new, sleek office on one side, and Roxy’s personal rooms on the other.
The office was absolutely tiny, but Roxy adored it. It had a large window looking out onto the cobbled street, and she’d painted the walls one of her favorite colors, aquamarine. She had a brilliant white desk, a slimline white laptop, a white spinning chair that Nat had painted to make it look distressed, and a glossy white table lamp. The dark wooden floorboards had been polished until they shined, and everything felt just right.
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