She was so relieved, she felt her knees wobble. Quinn steadied her. “We’re going to get out of here, okay, Larue?”
“I’ll meet you at the station,” Larue said. “You know the drill....”
“Yeah, yeah—paperwork,” Quinn finished. “We’re just getting out of here, but I don’t have my car. I came with Father Ryan.”
Ryan came up to them then. “My work is done. That is, Detective Larue, if you’ll be so good as to see that all this ash and bone is truly scattered. Thrown-in-the-swamp scattered!”
There was an officer standing nearby. “Sir?”
“Do what Father says,” Larue told him.
“Father?” the officer said in confusion.
“Father Ryan, son. Come by and see me at the church anytime.” Ryan shook his hand, saying, “Get others to help with this. See that it’s done properly, please.”
“Yes, sir, yes, sir.”
“God bless you,” Ryan said pleasantly.
The tension had left him; he seemed on top of the world. He set one arm around Danni’s shoulder and the other around Quinn’s. “Let’s get out of here, indeed. These gentlemen can handle it from here. Once again, goodness has prevailed!”
He led them out. There were patrol cars all over the property now. Officers had people clustered around the cars, and all the former participants were talking fast. Danni noticed that two of the black-suited men were in the backseats of patrol cars; a few others lay dead.
They started down the road, away from the frenzy that was still going on. “Now, that was close!” Ryan said. “Too close. But there you go. You do everything you think you should to stay out of danger, and it comes from a source you never expect. Danni, you must be far more careful when you hire your next clerk, you know.”
She was surprised that she was able to laugh. It was over, really over. She didn’t have to collect the bust; it was gone. Father Ryan was a powerful man.
“How did you know to just break the damned bust?” Quinn asked.
“I found it in the book right before...before they showed up. Oh, Quinn, I was so scared for poor Wolf. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I love Billie, and human life is more precious than anything...but I’d heard Billie snoring and Wolf wasn’t moving and—”
“Shh,” Quinn said. “I know. I understand. What I don’t understand is how we never saw the evil in Jane Pearl. Not even your father! He hired her, and she was working for Shumaker all along, spying on Angus, on you, on everything that happened at your place!”
“Well, she paid the price,” Danni said.
“As will you!”
They were stunned by the voice that suddenly rang out.
A cloak-and-cowl-wearing figure stood before them, blocking the path. Danni felt Quinn moving for his gun but the figure stepped forward. “Draw, and I shoot her faster than you can draw in a breath, you bastard, Michael Quinn. You two ruined everything! My fool mother couldn’t stand the bust. I told her I was coming to take it, and she went and killed herself!”
It was Cecelia Simon.
“You know, Ms. Simon, your parents would be so disappointed in you,” Quinn said calmly. Danni kept very still; she knew that he and Ryan were planning something, but she was afraid that whatever they could do, whatever they could silently plan, it would be impossible to save all three lives.
“My parents were namby-pamby assholes willing to give my inheritance away,” she spat. “They never approved of me, but they did hold the pursestrings. Even Bertie knew they were nothing but a pair of Goody Two-shoes who’d contribute to every charity in the whole world—but wanted me working my ass off. Thank God that woman was really my bitch.”
“Your bitch is dead,” Danni said.
“Oh. Too bad.” She gave the slightest of shrugs. “When I first learned about the bust, I had to get Bertie to extol its virtues to my father over and over again, talk him into believing he needed this ‘object of beauty’ as he liked to call it. But the old fool offed himself before I could get there—and then my idiot mother did the same. They were so weak. Always threatening me! If I didn’t shape up, my father would leave everything to charity! To the church and—get this—animal shelters! My inheritance to a bunch of dogs! Well, I almost got it all. You ruined everything. And save your speeches. The cops will arrest me, and I don’t need any sermons about not getting away with this. But if I’m going down, I’m taking one of you with me. Which one? A priest? That would be rich. Or you—Quinn. No, I think it should be the great artist here who created such a lovely image of my dear mother. That way, Quinn, you’ll live to suffer for what you caused—and you, Father, you can pray for her lost soul the rest of your days!”
Danni knew what they planned. Quinn would shove her behind him and take the bullet and Ryan would pull a gun. She had to stop it, but a bullet could fly in a split second and she didn’t have the strength to intercept Quinn.
Her thoughts were rapid.
But as Cecelia raised her gun with a demonic smile, they heard a shot.
She fell flat in front of them.
The next thing Danni knew, Wolf came running through the trees that bordered the wetlands; he nearly knocked them over, jumping up in his frenzied greeting.
Then, as they stumbled, trying to remain standing and greeting the dog, Billie came walking up to them.
“Bloody hell, but thank the Lord above that bitch could talk!” he said. “And Jane—I never liked her. Your father said she was a good bookkeeper and clerk and that we needed someone, but...I never trusted her! I was almost too late, but someone is watching out for us. Ah, well, Danni, lass, I’m sorry I failed you at the house. I should’ve known not to eat that dreadful woman’s terrible sandwiches—but I’m mighty thankful I got here in time!”
Danni laughed a little hysterically and threw herself into his arms.
* * *
A week later she sat at a table with Natasha, Billie and Father Ryan in the Midnight Royale café off Magazine Street.
It had been a wonderful night. The three of them and Quinn had met Jenny and Brad for dinner, and now they were listening to their group.
Quinn was sitting in on guitar. He wasn’t Brad’s caliber, but he was pretty good, Danni thought proudly, and when he left the stage, she greeted him with the wildest applause possible. It was fascinating to see someone go from handling the threat of death and the not-quite-believable to smiling as he casually enjoyed a night on the guitar.
“Not bad,” she told him.
“Not bad at all!” Billie said.
“Wonderful,” Natasha assured him.
“Let’s not get carried away,” Quinn said. He smiled, though, slipping an arm around Danni. “It’s great to be out, tonight.”
Danni touched his chin. “Living,” she agreed.
Billie cleared his throat and complained to Natasha. “They always seem to forget I’m around!”
“Not at all, Billie!” Danni insisted.
Natasha drummed her fingers on the table. “Not that I want to ruin the music of the night, so to speak, but I’m still confused. Hank Simon was a good man and Gladys Simon was a good woman. Somehow their daughter turned into a monster. She didn’t kill her parents, did she?”
“If I understand this right,” Father Ryan said, “no. But urban legends abound, so there’ve been all kinds of stories floating around about the bust of Pietro Miro. To start with, it surfaces because Shumaker, who was willing to believe in the occult if it would get him what he wanted, does some research and knows the bust is in New Orleans. Our crazy convict still in lockup, Vic Brown, hears that the call has gone out and there’s big money being offered for the bust. But he thinks that Hank Simon—who knows the story, too, or at least part of it, thanks to his daughter and Bertie—is the one who wants to buy the statue. He sells it to Hank. Before that, thoug
h, the spirit, soul, evil of the bust has invaded Vic, and he shoots three gang members and winds up in jail. Hank Simon is a good guy. The bust was trying to get him to kill and the pressure was so great he killed himself. The bust’s already in the house and Bertie, of course, calls the little princess she’d tended to all her life—Cecelia. Before Cecelia can tie up her business and get home to take possession, her mother hangs herself. So, enter Leroy, who steals the bust because he’s heard Shumaker is after it. But he wants more money. He hides the bust in the cemetery while he tries to negotiate with Shumaker. Then Shumaker kills him in a fit of rage and sends his thugs to the cemetery—and you know the rest of the story. That’s the best I can figure it, at any rate. Thankfully, Danni, you read the right part of the book in time to know the bust had to be totally destroyed.”
“I will read it from cover to cover, inside and out,” Danni vowed.
“And stick with your artwork. Obviously, it can be a warning,” Quinn said.
“I have no control over it. I painted the second picture in my sleep.”
“Maybe it’s a talent that will grow,” Billie mused.
“Well, now I’m sorry I brought all this up,” Natasha said. “But I do understand it better.” She paused. “It is fantastic to be out tonight. Agreed, Father Ryan? You might be scaring a few of these people into good behavior with that collar of yours, but...”
“Serving God doesn’t mean I have to miss out on good music and good friends,” Father Ryan told them. “Good music by your friends, Danni—and you, too, Quinn. And good company. To evil put down, and the rise of the new Cafferty and Quinn,” he said, lifting his cup.
“Peace, and no more evil objects!” Quinn chimed in.
“But there will always be something else,” Father Ryan said gravely. “That’s the way it is, a constant battle. At this table, we all know that.”
“That’s why we seize the moments,” Natasha reminded him.
Smiling, Father Ryan nodded.
“Changing the subject, I’m in need of a new clerk,” Danni said.
“Hmm. A new clerk certainly needs to be carefully hired,” Natasha said thoughtfully. “I have my Jez, and everyone needs someone like him.”
“I may have the right man for the job,” Father Ryan said.
“Oh?” Danni asked.
“Well, he has a bit further to go. Quinn brought him to me. Cleaned up and detoxed, he’s a wonderful fellow. Smart, courteous... Bo Ray Tomkins.”
“Bo Ray!” Danni said with surprise. She looked at Quinn.
“Some of us just need a second chance,” he said with a shrug. “We’ll think on it, Father Ryan. You may have something there.”
Jenny came rushing over to the table. “Quinn, the guys want you to sit in again. Eighties rock. You up for it?”
“Sure,” Quinn said.
He went back to play. The night lasted a bit longer, and then Quinn pointed out that Wolf was still at the shop.
He leaned in and whispered to her, “We don’t know when these moments come. I’m all for living...and seizing the moments. And I think this is one....”
His whisper was suggestive. She smiled, feeling the thrill that seemed to sweep through her every time she saw his face.
She stood quickly. “We’re going to call it a night,” she told the rest of them.
“Excellent idea. You need to get a room,” Billie said.
Danni grinned. “Yes, and I have one!”
They bade the others good-night and returned to the shop, strolling slowly.
“How is this going to work?” Danni wondered. “Our relationship, I mean.”
Quinn was silent for a minute.
“It won’t, will it?” she asked him.
He was thoughtful. “Well, we have tonight. We owe ourselves tonight. As to the future...”
“We should back away a bit, shouldn’t we?” she asked quietly. “Things between us are very...intense. But we have responsibilities.”
“I don’t have the answers, Danni.”
“I do. We back away for a while. We see what the future brings.”
“I can’t imagine not being with you,” he said.
“But you’re right,” she told him firmly. “We have to see what the future brings.”
Wolf, standing guard, greeted them and they petted him and gave him a few treats.
New treats. Treats Danni had gotten at the pet shop on Royal.
And then...
Whatever the future, they were taking the night. Seizing every moment.
* * * * *
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ISBN: 9781460309728
LET THE DEAD SLEEP
Copyright © 2013 by Heather Graham Pozzessere
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