The NOLA Heart Novels (Complete Series)

by Maria Luis

  “I’m not really into girls’ nights.”

  “Me neither. That’s why my two sisters are into fashion and the only fashion I deal with is how clothes look after a crime.”

  Silence.

  Lovely.

  Who had she ticked off in her life to deserve this?

  Jade tapped her fingers on her thighs, then went for broke. “Channing Tatum? Chris Hemsworth?” Still nothing. “Seriously, Tanya, can’t we find some common ground? This is miserable and you know it.”

  As seconds passed and Tanya said nothing, Jade honestly considered throwing in the towel. She had no problem striking out on her own. She’d never had a problem doing so in the past. But then again, she hadn’t had someone actively trying to hold her back either.

  Tanya sharply flicked the visor up. “Robert Downey, Jr.”

  Jade just barely kept her mouth from dropping open. Time to act normal. Jade huffed under her breath. Did she even know what normal was anymore? She’d come to New Orleans for a fresh start, and instead she’d entered the Twilight Zone.

  Slowly, since she had no intention of scaring Tanya off, she murmured, “Are we talking Sherlock Holmes Robert Downey, Jr. or Iron Man Robert Downey, Jr.?”

  “Iron Man. Obviously.”

  “Really?” Jade wondered how her work relationship had come down to a Robert Downey, Jr. versus Robert Downey, Jr. showdown. Not that it mattered at the end of the day. If it meant coexisting with the woman behind the wheel, then she would discuss Robert’s hotness ranking every day. She’d become a veritable Robert Downey, Jr. connoisseur.

  “Really,” said Tanya. And, for the first time in a week, she no longer looked like she’d just sniffed something rancid. Maybe she even looked a bit . . . All right, so her coworker’s nose was still wrinkled but at least the threats had ceased.

  Baby steps.

  “I’m a bit more of a Sherlock Holmes fan myself, to be honest,” Jade said, “But I like a man in pantaloons. Does wonders for a guy’s butt.”

  “You’re so weird.”

  Lucia had always treated her daughter’s “weirdness” a bit like a disease. Coming from Tanya, though, who was single-handedly the Queen of Sarcasm and Snark, it felt almost like a compliment. “Thanks,” Jade murmured. “So are you really anti-Chris Hemsworth? Because if we’re talking about great butts, his is fantastic.”

  Surprisingly, the next few hours passed in relative peace. Jade wasn’t quite ready to claim Tanya as a friend, but at least they were friendlier than they had been after leaving the office that morning. After their Robert Downey, Jr. truce, they’d hit up two thefts and a break-in.

  On the last scene, Tanya had (begrudgingly) told Jade that she’d done a good job, and Jade would be lying if she said that she hadn’t preened in the passenger’s seat for the next thirty minutes.

  “Three-fifty.”

  Fishing around in her wallet for the exact change, Jade passed over the money to the cashier and twisted the cap of her water bottle.

  When she slid into the passenger’s seat of the van, she handed over a second water bottle. “Think of it as another form of truce.”

  “I prefer a mojito,” was Tanya’s glib response.

  Jade tipped the bottle up to her mouth. “You’ll have to get that sort of service from a date.”

  Settling the water bottle in one of the empty cup holders, Tanya started the car and merged with traffic. “Thanks for the advice, Harper, but it’s gonna have to wait. Got a call when you were in the gas station. Another break-in.”

  “Yeah?” Jade tried to curb her enthusiasm. Maybe one day she’d grow tired of the endless calls for service and the crappy side of humanity. Right now, she still loved the rush of adrenaline that threaded through her each time they went to a new scene. “Where at?”

  Tanya raised the car’s volume and then went back to ten-and-two-ing the wheel. “Central City.”

  By the time they made it to the scene, the afternoon sunlight was unforgiving in its heat.

  Jade climbed out of the van and slammed the door shut behind her. The house looked sad, she thought immediately. Or, maybe not sad so much as it looked forgotten. Overgrown plants spiraled out of the soil like reaching hands, and two of the house’s front shutters were splintered. The building across the street appeared to be abandoned, though the homes bracketing either side of it were startlingly new.

  Vinyl siding, new. Fancy front gardens, new. Solar panels on the roof, new.

  The juxtaposition was bizarre, if not a little startling.

  Her gaze went back to the house that had been broken into, taking note of the two NOPD uniformed officers standing on the front porch, before settling on the old lady seated in a rocking chair. Her white as snow hair sat on the top of her head in a thin top-knot, and she was dressed in one of those shapeless tent dresses that Jade’s abuela wore all too often.

  Tanya stopped beside her. “I always feel bad when crap happens to the elderly. Makes me think humanity is totally lost.”

  Jade silently agreed, and together they headed for the porch steps. She strained to catch blips of the conversation with the police officers.

  “Can you tell us anything about the intruder?” said one of the officers. He nodded at Jade and Tanya as they approached, lifting a hand to halt them in their tracks. “We don’t have much to go by right now, you understand. With no report, there’s not much we can do for you.”

  The older woman didn’t even bother to glance up, and it was then that Jade noticed her milky pupils. She sucked in a breath. It seemed totally wrong for someone to break into any home—but into a blind woman’s home? What protection did she have against an intruder like that?

  “I told you,” the woman said in a raspy voice, “I’d like to speak with Detective Danvers.”

  Danvers? Jade’s brain whirred. How many Detective Danvers’ could there be on the force? Jade’s gaze went to the two officers, both of whom shared a Look. She recognized the glance for what it was—they didn’t plan to reach out to Danvers.

  But that didn’t explain how this woman even knew who Nathan Danvers was.

  The other officer tried. Sweeping his NOPD ball cap from his head, he swatted it against his outer thigh. “Ms. Hansen, this is not a homicide case. You’re the victim of a break-in. Detective Danvers works homicide.” A small pause. “Only homicide.”

  Ms. Hansen made a show of kicking her rocking chair into a soft sway as she plucked a cigarette pack from her tent dress.

  The first officer sighed. “Call homicide and get a hold of Danvers, would you?”

  With a quick nod, the second officer stepped back and brushed past Jade on his way down the porch steps. But she felt rooted to her spot. Danvers was on his way here? Right now? She worried her lower lip with her teeth, and pretended that the thought didn’t totally excite her.

  And also fill her with dread.

  She still couldn’t believe she’d run from him. So humiliating.

  Her gaze sought out Ms. Hansen’s fragile form, who continued to ignore the officer’s quiet interrogation. Who was Ms. Hansen to Danvers? And why did Jade feel as though something a whole lot bigger was going on than she even realized?

  Tanya nudged her in the side, shaking Jade from her thoughts. “Should we get to it?”

  “Yeah, I—”

  The rocking chair stopped. “Is there someone else here, Officer?”

  The cop shoved his hat on his head, squaring off the bill. “Just two of the city’s crime lab technicians, Ms. Hansen. They’re going to catalogue the house, all right? See what’s here, see if there might be something my partner and I missed.”

  “Nothing is missing.” The older woman said the words with such surety that even the officer blinked slowly.

  “Ma’am,” he started in a pacifying voice, “Let’s allow them to do their job, okay? You never know if something might have been taken.”

  Oh, boy.

  Totally the wrong thing to say. Ms. Hansen’s upper lip curled in
distaste. “I may be blind, sir, but I know my own home. Nothing has been taken, ya heard me?”

  “Ma’am—”

  Jade cut the officer off with a quiet clearing of her throat. Stepping close to the rocking chair, Jade sank to her haunches, putting herself below the woman’s eye level.

  “My name is Jade Harper, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you.” Ms. Hansen continued to puff away on her cigarette. “My coworker, Tanya, and I are going to do a quick sweep of the property. Check where the perpetrator came in. Broken windows, things like that. After—”

  Ms. Hansen harrumphed, stubbing out the cigarette on the chair’s armrest. “You won’t find none of that here. Used a key. Came right in through the front door while I was napping.”

  Well, that definitely put a new spin on things. Intruders who used keys weren’t really intruders, then, were they? More like unwelcome visitors. Emphasis on the “unwelcome” part.

  She tried again. “How about me and Tanya just give a cursory glance over everything to make sure that nothing is out of place? We’ll work as fast as we can. Make sure everything is wrapped up before Detective Danvers arrives.”

  Because you want to show him how good of a job you can do.

  Okay, not totally true. Mainly, she wanted to alleviate Ms. Hansen’s worry. Her suddenly erratic heartbeat had nothing to do with a slate-eyed man who could make her wet with just a single look.

  Uh-uh.

  No way.

  Okay, maybe somewhat way.

  “Is that all right, Ms. Hansen?” asked Tanya.

  Jade looked over her shoulder, for once thankful to have backup in the form of the experienced Tanya Smith. Who knew that conversations about Robert Downey, Jr. could do wonders for a work partnership? If she were the letter-writing type, she’d pen the actor the nicest, most heartfelt thank-you note known to mankind.

  But she wasn’t, so Jade settled for offering her partner a grateful smile.

  “We’ll be quick,” Jade assured the older woman.

  Ms. Hansen’s only response was to blow smoke into the air.

  With a quiet nod to the police officer, Tanya and Jade entered the home, briefly pausing when they crossed the threshold.

  “It’s morbidly quiet in here,” Tanya muttered as she snapped on latex gloves. “It’s like a hospital. I hate hospitals.”

  “Does anyone like hospitals?”

  “Doctors.”

  Jade rolled her eyes. “That’s different. They have to work there.”

  But she silently agreed with her coworker. Ms. Hansen’s house was eerily void of any personal touches. Even Jade’s apartment, which she’d just moved into, had more of a cozy vibe than this place did.

  “Want to take the kitchen and bathroom?” Tanya said. “I know how much you love photographing toilets.”

  “I thought we were friends now?”

  “Sure are,” the other woman said, “that’s why I’m letting you take the one place I don’t want to catalogue. Just like any friend would do.”

  Jade figured that she and Tanya had different views on friendship, but she moved into the back of the house regardless. Her shoes clipped across hardwood floor as she conducted a quick sweep of the bathroom. Her camera stayed in her duffel bag. Nothing out of the ordinary there—gracias al cielo.

  No way did Jade want to spend any lengthy amount of time in the restroom.

  At first sight, the kitchen didn’t seem off either. Utensils tucked away in the drawers. Leftovers sat on the kitchen counter. Plates bathed in soapy water in the sink. Jade wondered if Ms. Hansen had any help or if she knew her house so well that she could manage on her own. A quick glance in the cabinets showed that everything was as it should be.

  No stray strands of hair that didn’t match Ms. Hansen’s.

  No fingerprints staining the windows or the countertops, as though someone had tried to escape.

  No broken doorknobs, as though the intruder had forced himself into a locked space.

  Normal. Completely normal.

  Jade swallowed her disappointment at the lack of evidence. If there had been an intruder, they’d done a good job of covering any tracks.

  Her gaze caught on the pantry door. “What the hell,” she muttered, “might as well.”

  Wasn’t like she had anything to lose by checking, though she hated the thought of later reporting to Mike Davis that they’d found zilch at the property.

  She tugged open the door, a sliver of anticipation making her hands sweaty, and then felt her shoulders droop with disappointment.

  Cereal. Canned goods. Garbage bags.

  Everything was lined up so neatly on the shelves it was as though Ms. Hansen ran a proper grocery store.

  “Bummer.”

  Jade stepped back, intending to strip off her gloves and call it quits, when a flash of color caught her notice on the floor of the pantry. She dropped to her haunches and wedged the door open farther with her shoulder.

  Her fingers slipped the photograph out from under the package of paper towels, and she twisted at the waist so she could see it with the light from the window. Dust gathered over the center of the picture, and she brushed it away with the pad of her gloved thumb.

  Air vacated her lungs as she stared down at the photograph, immediately recognizing the Victorian-era bar in the corner of the frame as the restaurant she and Danvers had visited the other evening.

  But it was the smiling redhead that made her heart pound erratically.

  With trembling fingers, she dug into her duffel bag for her camera. But even as she did so, only one thought entered her head . . .

  What in the world was a photograph of Miranda Smiley doing in Ms. Hansen’s house?

  13

  Gretna, Louisiana

  Nathan Danvers was good at hiding.

  Jade hadn’t noticed it before—not, however, because she’d been too caught up in his good looks—but she had his number now. And so, okay, maybe he wasn’t hiding, exactly, but he was definitely the king of evasiveness.

  Take Example A: when Beth asked how work was going, Danvers muttered something noncommittal before effortlessly turning the conversation over to Lizzie and her YouTube channel.

  Jade had it on good authority (and some just-this-side-of legal snooping) that he’d been stuck at NOPD Headquarters for days. Nights, too. How Beth didn’t notice the shadows under her son’s eyes was beyond her.

  Danvers wasn’t the only one with bags under his eyes. Jade hadn’t done much sleeping since uncovering Miranda Smiley’s photograph at Ms. Hansen’s house earlier in the week, but thankfully Jade knew enough about makeup to know that concealer was a girl’s best friend.

  Example B followed not five minutes later when Mr. Cartwell served himself a ladleful of mashed potatoes and asked, “Any new and exciting news, y’all?” He passed the bowl to his wife. “Jade, are you settling in okay?”

  “Absolutely,” she replied with forced cheer. “New Orleans is so welcoming.”

  He gave a sage nod. “And Danvers is showing you the city’s hotspots? Your dad mentioned something to me about y’all hitting up some restaurant in the Quarter last week?”

  Jade stifled a groan. Sammie. She could always count on her sister to blab to her parents about everything. Not that she’d told Sammie anything about Danvers’ kiss. No, she’d kept that to herself.

  She turned the cheer up a notch, despite the fact that she was actually grinding her teeth. “Oh, yes,” she murmured in a too-sugary tone, “Danny is showing me new sides to the city I never thought possible.”

  Stubborn gray eyes locked with her across the table.

  She arched a brow, daring him to admit the truth. And the truth was that he’d ignored every single one of her texts over the last few days. She’d made it blatantly clear that she knew Miranda Smiley wasn’t just some random chick at a restaurant they’d scoped out. But he hadn’t answered.

  Now, he only lifted his beer bottle to his lips as he watched her. His gaze, usually so full of
emotion, was carefully blank.

  It drove her mad.

  Blowing out a breath of frustration, she angrily stabbed at the peas on her plate. But peas were not conducive to angry eating, and she missed three times before successfully puncturing the sneaky fellows.

  “That’s great, Jade,” Beth exclaimed with genuine happiness. “My Danny really is the best tour guide out of the bunch. Even though he was away from us for so long . . . ” She trailed off, her gaze settling on her son. “Well, he knows his stuff.”

  Danvers silently took another pull of his beer.

  “Does anyone else have anything to share?” Beth asked with a look around the table, good humor still lighting her gaze. “Or are we that boring of a family now that we can’t even come up with conversation for Sunday dinner?”

  Lizzie flopped back in her chair, bringing her wine glass with her. “Steve and I broke up.”

  “Oh, honey.” Beth reached out a hand and placed it on her daughter’s arm. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  Danvers lifted his head. “Don’t lie, Ma. Isn’t that what you always tell us?”

  Not that you’re abiding by family rules right now yourself, Nathan Danvers. Jade bit her lower lip to keep the words from emerging.

  “Danvers,” Mr. Cartwell said firmly, “your mother was just expressing—”

  This time it was Lizzie who jumped in. “I know that y’all hated Steve. He was a d-bag.”

  “It’s your type,” said Danvers with a shrug. He lifted a hand and waved it in the air, like showing off a new billboard. “D-bags, apply here.”

  Jade wondered if she’d have to leap into the fray to keep Lizzie from murdering her brother, but no, surprising everyone at the table, Lizzie laughed loudly and toasted her brother with a raised wine glass.

  “It’s a problem.” She grinned, flipping her hair over her shoulder with her free hand. “But someone’s got to have it. Jade, tell me, are you also attracted to losers?”

  Four pairs of eyes pinned her to the seat. One in particular had her shifting uncomfortably with its intensity.

  “I, uh”—Jade touched her tongue to her suddenly dry lips—“You know, I think that every girl out there is slightly attracted to the bad boy.”