Dan felt his phone vibrating in his jacket pocket and reached for it. He excused himself and rose to take the call from Axel.
“Can you get to the office now?” Axel asked.
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“Ryder found your man, Nathan Lawrence. We have him in one of the interrogation rooms, but we don’t have him on anything, so holding him... So far, he’s just scared and confused. But get here as quickly as you can. With your pictures.”
“On my way,” Dan assured him. He turned back to the table and told Katie, “We have to go. Now. Jeremy, thank you. Sincerely, thank you.”
“Wait!” Katie said. “Wait. We’ve all figured out Jeremy might be in danger, and we’re just going to go off—”
“Katie, I’m fine,” Jeremy said. “Good alarm system. Shotgun. I’m good.”
“But you sleep, too,” Katie protested.
“Not through the blare of my alarm,” Jeremy assured her. “This takes away nothing from anyone. Most people don’t spend their lives afraid of being attacked. And they don’t use firearms, and they may not have alarms. I’ve trained at the shooting range. I know what I’m doing. I’ll be all right. In fact, bad as this may sound, I’d love to shoot the blood-soaked bastard who killed your mom and dad.”
“I’ll tell Ryder and Axel, too. They’ll keep an eye on the neighborhood,” Dan promised.
“See!” Jeremy said to Katie.
“Katie, please, we have to get moving,” Dan said.
“I’ll be in here a while longer,” Jeremy said. “Can’t seem to get enough of that avocado toast!”
Dan managed to extract Katie at last; in the car, she was quiet.
“I know you’re worried, but Jeremy is right about one thing. He’s not vulnerable. The killer goes after those who are vulnerable.”
“My father wasn’t a vulnerable person.”
“But your father wouldn’t have expected a guest on his boat to be an axe murderer,” Dan reminded her. “He would have thought he was with a friend.”
Katie didn’t reply.
“I’m about to see Axel. He’ll make sure Jeremy’s house is covered. Okay?”
She looked ahead and nodded. And then she managed “Thank you.”
“Katie, we’ll solve this. I promise. We’ll solve this.”
She looked over at him, and he wasn’t sure if he saw belief in her eyes or not. But he did see something he wasn’t sure he’d seen before. Trust. And maybe even...
Affection.
No commitment, she’d said.
He looked ahead again. He was committed to the case. And whether she wanted it or not, he couldn’t help it.
He was committed to her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They went through security at the FBI offices. There was a reception area with a comfortable sofa. Axel met them there, asking Katie if he could get her anything and pointing out that since she was the only one there at the time, there was a television and she could control it any way she liked.
Then he led Dan down a hallway to an interrogation room.
Adam Harrison was in the room; three chairs faced the one side of the table where Nathan Lawrence was sitting.
He looked up hopefully when Dan and Axel returned to the room.
“I swear!” the man said passionately. “I don’t know anything about the axe murders! You all think I know something, someone, that I can help... I have a wife! A good life, and I... Oh, my God! That’s awful, I would never, never...”
Dan sent down the folder he’d stuffed into his jacket pocket, opening it and displaying the picture he’d taken of him, Jennie and the unknown man, presumably Neil Browne.
Nathan Lawrence sat back in confusion. He was a well-dressed man in casual designer clothes, well-groomed, with a nice face, brown hair with a touch of gray, and a lean, gym-toned body.
A match for his wife, Wendy. They lived to a certain style, Dan thought, and considered themselves entitled to that lifestyle. Except that Wendy might want a divorce...and was therefore determined to catch him cheating.
Dan had never thought that the man was cheating. He had family money, but from all appearances, he liked his job as a teacher.
“I don’t understand. That’s Missy and Franklin Turner,” he said, looking up at Dan. Then he frowned. “I’ve seen you. On the streets. Um, in the French Quarter.”
“Yes, that’s where I took this picture. You were having dinner near the river.”
“Yes, of course. That’s where I met Missy and Franklin,” he said.
“Who are Missy and Franklin? Friends?” Dan asked.
“Well, no. I mean, not really. They befriended me on social media and then asked me to meet. They have a group that meets, and it’s just about finding the best in ourselves. It sounded interesting to me. Getting together with others, finding out where help is needed in the city and beyond.”
“Just a group that meets to help others in the city?” Dan asked.
Adam cleared his throat and said, “Nathan likes the idea of community outreach. You know that he’s a teacher. He devotes his free time to their wrestling team.”
“You’re a wrestler?”
Nathan laughed at that, shaking his head. “No, no, I do the arrangements for the team to travel, and I set up their meets.”
“And he helps out at a church soup kitchen,” Adam said.
“Great. So, when was your last meet with the wrestling team?” Dan asked.
“Oh, a couple of months back,” Nathan said, frowning. “Midwinter.”
Before Dan had started watching him. Maybe his travels with the team had spurred his wife’s determination to watch him.
“And the soup kitchen?” he asked politely.
“Protestant church in Metairie,” he said. “You can ask them. I haven’t been there for several weeks now because Wendy—my wife—seems to have plans on Friday nights, and that was when I put in my hours.”
“Let’s get back to Franklin and Missy,” Dan said. “They found you on social media?”
“Sure. All kinds of people meet on social media.”
Dan glanced at Axel. Axel pressed a piece of paper across the table.
“Write down how you’re connected.”
“It’s a business site,” Nathan said, writing as directed. “The site is letsdoit.com. All kinds of people are on it. Some do a little to help the community, and some do a lot.” He hesitated. “I guess some are looking for friends, and some are looking for recruits.”
“This couple, Franklin and Missy, they wanted you to come to a meeting?” Dan asked.
“Yes.”
“And did you go?”
“No, I couldn’t. Wendy had something planned already. I apologized online... I guess they weren’t happy. I haven’t received another invitation.” He sighed. “Look, I love what I do, but it’s hard. Dealing with teenagers? Some girls are in high school and already have kids, while others are pregnant. Some of the guys are in gangs already pushing drugs. This sounded like a nice group. Just a nice group of people finding power and giving with one another.”
“Finding power. That phrase was used?” Dan asked.
Axel leaned forward. “Did the number six come up in your conversation?”
“What? Uh...yeah, actually.” Lawrence looked confused. “They said they were a solid group and didn’t ask just anyone in. They liked to keep their number at six. They didn’t consider themselves to be elite or anything. It was just the right number of people to be able to get things done.”
“Where were you supposed to meet them?” Dan asked.
“Oh, that I don’t know,” Nathan said.
“How could you be expected to meet them and not know where?” Axel asked him.
“They tell you where to come right before they meet, and of course, I’d s
ent my apologies, and they never told me.”
“That’s convenient,” Axel said.
“I swear!” Nathan vowed passionately. “Look, you don’t think that—”
“The woman is dead,” Dan said flatly. “The victim you read about, Jane Doe in the decrepit old family cemetery.” He pointed to her in the picture. “She’s dead, hacked to death. So, yes, these people do have something to do with what’s going on. And you had really best tell us anything you know. You don’t want this killer running around the city, especially when he’s someone who knows you.”
* * *
Katie hated sitting in the reception area waiting.
She should have stayed with Jeremy. Now that they had talked, she was equally concerned about Jeremy as she was for herself. And no matter how he blustered that he was fine and could take care of himself, Katie was frightened for him.
She knew she had Dan with her, and she was being watched and had a great deal of protection going for her.
Jeremy was on his own.
George was also on his own.
She’d called George; they would meet up later at his hotel.
A phone rang, and she heard the receptionist answer the call. “Yes, yes, of course. Yes, they’re both in interrogation right now, but I’ll have them with you as soon as possible... I’m sure, Detective... We’ve been getting calls here, too, of course. The paper had no choice once the information was leaked... Yes, Detective.”
The young woman behind the desk was speaking in low, careful tones.
Katie could still hear her.
Katie stood when the call ended and approached the young woman’s desk. It was behind a counter with windows that could be closed. Maybe bulletproof. But maybe not. No one could reach this floor without going through security and receiving a special clearance.
The young woman looked at Katie warily when she approached, and then she sighed, realizing that no matter how careful she had been, Katie had heard her.
“Tips. I’m starting to think now everyone in the city has seen something. At first, we couldn’t find a witness for anything in the world, and now suddenly, half of the city has seen the killer, seen someone suspicious. Putting all the law-enforcement agencies in the world together, we haven’t the resources to check out every single tip that’s now coming in. But we have good people! And so do the cops. They can weed through a lot.”
“That was Detective Stapleton?” Katie asked.
The young woman nodded. “He thinks he has a solid lead. He’s looking for Axel and Dan. I’ll be right back—I have to signal to them that Ryder has called.”
She left her post and apparently spoke to someone down the hall who in turn managed to get the message through.
A minute later, Dan and Axel were exiting the inner sanctum of the offices.
They both thanked the receptionist who nodded to them gravely.
“I play jazz every minute of the time I’m home,” she assured them.
“Maybe not a bad idea,” Dan said, smiling. “Okay, let’s go see Ryder.” He set an arm absently around Katie’s shoulders to lead her out of the offices. Axel followed.
“There’s a tip he thinks is real?” Katie asked as they headed downstairs.
Dan nodded.
They left his car and headed straight for Axel’s. He had plates on his car that would allow him parking anywhere in the city, Katie knew. Maybe even anywhere in the country.
“Is Ryder meeting us?” Katie asked as they drove.
Dan shook his head and glanced at her, a grim, dry smile slightly curving his lips.
“Ryder is on to another possibly credible tip. Even after weeding out the sensationalists and attention-seekers, there are a lot of people to follow up with now that the letter to the paper is public knowledge.”
They drove to the Marigny, to an old home in a residential neighborhood that had charming trees and foliage growing in every yard.
They parked and walked up an old brick path to the porch and the front door.
The door opened as they arrived; the woman inside had been waiting for them.
She was in her early sixties, Katie thought, and she looked as if she enjoyed the outside and physical activity. She was thin but wiry, had sandy-colored, slightly graying hair in a stylish, short cut. Her eyes were sharp and blue, and she assessed them quickly.
“Special Agent Axel Tiger?” she asked.
Axel produced his credentials.
“I feel like an idiot. Why this didn’t occur to me before... Uh, sorry, sorry! Come in. My husband is just in the parlor. Please.”
“We’re a block down from the first murders here,” Dan whispered to Katie.
She nodded, feeling a sense of unease trickle down her spine. She hated it; she hated being anywhere near the place where the killer had struck; she’d hated coming upon Jennie’s corpse.
But she’d do just about anything to make it all stop.
“I’m Mona, Mona Lusk, and this is my husband, Rene,” she said, leading the way into the parlor.
Rene Lusk was about the same age as his wife. He was tall and thin and wiry like her. They might have run marathons together or perhaps enjoyed fishing, boating or power walking.
Rene had been sitting on a big chesterfield sofa. He rose when they came in, shaking hands with them all.
“I’m afraid being late on this is my fault. And even now...” He glanced over at his wife. “Even now I’m afraid you’re going to think we’re alarmists seeing things that aren’t there, making things up.”
“When I first saw the man, Rene just laughed and said this was New Orleans. We’re both from here, a bit jaded. I mean, people are often in costume, and sometimes the more bizarre the costume the better, they seem to think,” Mona said.
“Even when it’s not Mardi Gras or Halloween,” Rene said dryly. “I mean...it’s just New Orleans. Oh, and we have a historic voodoo temple or house near here, about two blocks over.”
“And it’s great! Nothing evil there. Matisse Renoir is the high priestess there for her congregation. They don’t do anything bad, trust me. They adhere to the tenet that anything hurtful done to others comes back on oneself threefold. But the house there... She has wonderful historic displays, about the religions in Africa and Haiti and how old religions came together with Christianity, and how the saints work in and—”
“Sweetheart,” Rene said, interrupting his wife. “I don’t think we need to give them all a lesson in voodoo or even the history of the world,” he said softly.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just nothing bad goes on there, and people have a tendency to think that voodoo is all about curses.”
“It’s okay. Katie and I both live here. And our families go way back,” Dan assured her.
“Please, sit,” Rene said.
They all did so, Katie, Dan and Axel taking the sofa, Rene and Mona in the chairs across from it.
“So,” Rene began, looking at his wife, “I was in the kitchen, pouring my cup of morning coffee. I heard Mona out here, muttering.” He grimaced at his wife. “She talks to herself a lot, getting crotchety in her old age.”
“Hey!” Mona protested.
“And?” Dan asked.
“I poured us both a cup of coffee and brought them out here and asked what she was bitching about now,” Rene said.
“Rene didn’t see him at first,” Mona said.
“Him who?” Axel persisted gently.
“The Axeman,” Mona said. “Well, of course, I didn’t know it was the Axeman. I thought it was some weirdo who thought he was in Chicago or something. I mean, we’re not into the dead heat of summer or anything like that yet, but it’s not cold around here, either.”
“Temperature has been darned great,” her husband said.
“Yes, yes, and that’s why I was muttering abo
ut all the crazies we manage to get in New Orleans. And I was wondering why he wasn’t running around Bourbon Street or a party area if he was going to be all dressed up.”
“Dressed up how?” Katie asked.
“Big slouchy hat! And a trench coat or an old railway frock coat or something of the like,” Mona explained. “Everything he wore was black. He looked kind of like a giant in a full-length black coat, with a hat that dipped low over his face. Now, I didn’t think Axeman when I saw him. I just thought another crazy guy was running around New Orleans.”
“And he didn’t come anywhere near the house,” Rene said.
“What was he doing?” Dan asked.
“When I saw him, he was just leaning against a tree. It looked like he was resting or waiting for someone,” Mona said.
“Later, when we heard about what happened to the old couple—” Rene began.
“And so very near us!” Mona said with a shiver.
“Well, I still didn’t think of it at first,” Rene said.
“But then there was another body found, hacked up, and the news came out someone seems to think that he’s the Axeman returned,” Mona said.
“Well, we knew the legend, but I looked up information on the Axeman,” Rene told them. “And the few eyewitness descriptions that there are... Well, they coincided on describing him as a dark figure in a dark something and a slouch hat. So, you see, I started thinking the guy who had been leaning on the tree hadn’t been resting or waiting for a friend.”
“No! What he’d been doing was watching the neighborhood, watching for whoever came and went. Trying to see who did and who didn’t have dogs and alarms,” Mona said.
“Quite possibly,” Dan said gravely. “And thank you. If you see such a man again—”
“He strikes in different places!” Rene said. “The Axeman strikes in different places.”
Dan rose. “We don’t know for sure,” he said. “This isn’t a demon or anyone from hell or with a superpower, no immortality. This is simply a very sick human being. And I don’t think he always knows what he’s doing from day to day, and we don’t even know if more than one person is involved.”
“He was big, like a super being,” Mona said gravely.
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