The Dead Play On

by Heather Graham

  Jessica looked nervously at Danni.

  “Honestly, he’s a doll. I promise.”

  Jessica went to the dog and patted his head. “Hello, Wolf.”

  Wolf wagged his tail.

  Looking at Danni, Jessica smiled. “He is gorgeous. And nice. I don’t know why, but I’ve always been afraid of big dogs. Maybe he can cure me.”

  “You have to watch out for any dog you don’t know,” Danni said. “Don’t just go petting the next Rottweiler you see. Always ask.”

  “I will, I promise. Anyway, I was just really stopping by to say hi, since we met last night and I’ve been here so many times without seeing you,” Jessica said. She lifted the shopping bag she’d been carrying. “I had to run down to the corner store before work. I have a little one, and I have to make sure my mom is set before I leave each night.”

  “A toddler? How nice,” Danni said. “Boy or girl?”

  “I have a little boy. Cutest little thing you’ve ever seen, if I do say so myself,” Jessica said, blushing.

  “Congratulations,” Danni said. She smiled. “I’m surprised none of the band has mentioned him to me. He must be adorable.”

  “Oh, the guys have never seen him,” Jessica said. “I don’t want to bring my child to a bar. I keep a low profile, you know. Sad to say, but you make better money when frat boys and businessmen see you as a cute young thing instead of a mom. My son is my real life, and I like to keep it separate, you know?” She smiled. “Anyway, I just wanted to stop by. I’m on Royal, too, but closer to Esplanade. It was just so nice to meet you and Quinn. And of course I already knew Billie. He always makes shopping here a pleasure.”

  “I do my best,” he said.

  “Well, hope to see you again soon,” Jessica said.

  “Actually, you’ll see us very soon. We’re going to come and sit in for a few numbers with the band tonight,” Danni told her.

  “Cool,” Jessica said. “That’s really great.”

  She seemed genuinely enthused. In fact, she sounded relieved.

  Danni didn’t press her for a reason, since Jessica was already heading to the door, suddenly seeming anxious to get going. “I’ll see you there, then,” she called.

  And then Jessica was gone.

  “That was interesting,” Billie said. “A more transparent setup for a conversation I’ve never seen. That girl certainly wants you and Quinn there tonight—badly, so it seems to me.”

  Danni looked at him. “You’re going to be there, too.”

  “I am?” He sounded suddenly nervous.

  “Suck it up, Billie. You can play, and you know it. So you’ll definitely be in the band. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go figure out what I’m going to wear.”

  “Now, wait a minute, Danni Cafferty! I just happened to be okay on that instrument last night. Bands practice together, and I haven’t practiced with this group.”

  “I’ve heard musicians who’ve never even met before just start jamming together, and it was magic.”

  “Not me. I’m a practice man.”

  She paused to grin at him. “Stop complaining—you’re going to love it!”

  “You’d best be careful,” he told her. “Put me on the spot, will you? Careful, lass, or I’ll be bringing me bagpipes.”

  Chapter 6

  DANNI, QUINN THOUGHT, was just one of those people graced with natural beauty. She could wear an old raggedy T-shirt, worn jeans and no makeup then smile and seem to be the most sensuous creature on earth. He wondered if there really was such a thing as “inner beauty” and if that was shining through whenever he looked at her.

  Dressed to the nines, she was absolutely stunning.

  The bands that played the clubs on Bourbon and Frenchman were often very casual in their attire, although some of the jazz trios often wore suits to entertain the diners at The Court of Two Sisters, Muriel’s and some of the other fancier venues.

  Danni had hit just the right mix for the evening. She was wearing a strapless dress that lightly hugged her form and fell to just above her knee. It was appropriate for the beach or a candlelit dinner. She wore sandals that added two inches to her five-nine frame, emphasized the muscles of her calves and complemented her already-statuesque posture. Her long auburn hair hung free, creating a wavy frame around her face.

  Quinn stood with Billie at the foot of the stairs, waiting for her to appear. She looked at the two of them and flushed. “Too much?”

  “Ah...no,” Quinn said.

  “Perfect, just perfect,” Billie said. “We’ll be needing to leave the house now, though, before lover boy can’t make it out the door. Quinn, grab your guitar and let’s go.”

  Quinn grinned at that, winking at Danni. “Billie, you could run ahead and—”

  “Way more than I want to be thinking about,” Billie said. “Come on, let’s go. Before I do pick up my bagpipes.”

  Billie had the sax that Tyler had left the night before. Quinn had his guitar. Danni had...

  Looks to kill.

  She paused before they left, though, turning to Wolf. “You protect the store and watch out for Bo Ray, okay, Wolf?”

  He whined. He would do as he was told, but he wanted to go with them.

  “Come on, let’s see how this goes,” Quinn said.

  It was only a few blocks’ walk to the La Porte Rouge. It was early for a Friday night, but already Bourbon Street was booming. Couples, groups, the old and the young, wandered down the street. Some were three sheets to the wind already; this was a city where alcohol flowed freely. Some locals moved along briskly, going to or from work, long jaded when it came to the sins of the city they loved and going about their daily routines. A man in a white T-shirt and apron leaned against a wall that divided a pizza restaurant from a strip club. A sexy, scantily clad hostess leaned next to him, chatting as they took simultaneous cigarette breaks. A hawker passed them, advertising one-dollar beers.

  When they arrived at La Porte Rouge, the band was already setting up. And, just as Tyler had promised, none of them seemed to mind that they would have company onstage for a few numbers.

  Until they went on at nine thirty, new talent worked the stage as an “open mike” night. Between their sets, canned music played over the loudspeakers. There were already a dozen patrons in the bar, and Quinn knew the crowd was going to get heavy—it was a Friday night, after all.

  Tyler left the other band members—Shamus, Blake and Gus—to finish setting up while he went over the list with Billie, Danni and Quinn. Tyler pointed out three numbers for which he thought “dueling saxes” would be fantastic. Quinn was set to play for the majority of the set. Just as Tyler turned to Danni with a deep grin, Shamus came walking up with a tambourine trailing colorful ribbons.

  “You can be up there with us the whole time, Danni,” Tyler said.

  “The backup mike is stage left,” Shamus told her. “You’ll have a sense of when to come in. Do it even if you’re faking it half the time. You’ll know the songs. We cover the most popular groups from the last few decades, a lot of eighties stuff. You’ll be fine.”

  Danni looked at Quinn. He smiled.

  Tyler and Shamus left them to do a sound check.

  “Quit grinning at me,” Danni said to Quinn, sounding more than a little panicked.

  “Hey, this could be a good tryout for us,” he said. “When all else fails, we may have a backup career here.”

  Gus Epstein came over and slid onto a stool at the small table where they sat waiting. He must have heard Quinn, because he smiled at him sheepishly. “Great—more musicians in the city. Like we don’t have enough competition.”

  “Trust me, I’m not competition,” Danni said.

  “Trust me, all you have to do is stand there and you’re competition,” Gus said. He looked at Quin
n and said, “Sorry—you have to manage the request list, make sure we’re all aware of any audience requests that come in, whatever.”

  “I’ll deal with it,” Quinn assured him.

  “And you...” Gus said, looking at Billie.

  “Yeah? What about me?” Billie demanded.

  “You’ve got style,” Gus said.

  Billie grinned, and they all laughed.

  But then Tyler wandered back over, looking serious. “We’re glad you’re here.”

  “Really glad,” Gus said quietly. He looked around, as if he was afraid they might be overheard. “I mean, first we lost Arnie, and now, two musicians killed, right in their homes. Hell, yeah, I’m glad we’ve got a cop here,” he said, meeting Quinn’s eyes.

  “I’m not a cop,” Quinn said.

  “You’re like a cop, you were a cop, and it’s good to have you onstage looking out for us.”

  As they sat there, everyone suddenly silent, Jessica served another table and then came up to them. Quinn noted that Danni greeted her warmly, as if they were old friends. Jessica’s eyes were bright, and she told them with a pleased smile that all soft drinks and bottled water were on the house, and that Eric, the bartender, had told her to tell them that they were welcome to domestic draft beers, as well.

  Quinn thanked her and waved to Eric. He was pouring a shot for a customer at the bar, but he smiled and nodded.

  “Well, this is it—time to do or die,” Tyler said.

  “Don’t say die,” Gus told him.

  “Does ‘break a leg’ work?” Jessica asked, grinning.

  Shamus joined them. “Tyler, you doing the intros?”

  “I am,” Tyler said, getting up.

  Just as they were about to walk onstage, Quinn smiled broadly as a rather odd couple walked into the bar. Father John Ryan and Natasha Larouche.

  Natasha was wearing a brightly colored turban that drew attention to her face beneath it. The woman had some of the most majestic features Quinn had ever seen. She wore a peasant blouse and long skirt.

  Father Ryan had decided to doff his priestly collar for the night. Still, he was in black, and somehow—though maybe it was just in Quinn’s mind—he still looked like a priest.

  “Hey,” Quinn said, greeting the two newcomers. “Thanks for coming.”

  “We’ve got to get you two off to the right start, eh?” Father Ryan said.

  Danni had come up and swept past Quinn to give Father John Ryan a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then greet Natasha the same way.

  “She’s a little scared, huh?” Natasha asked Quinn, nodding toward Danni.

  “I think terrified is the word you’re looking for,” Quinn said, smiling at Danni. “Give her a good old evil spirit to face down and she’s fine. Put her on a stage, and...”

  “I’m not that bad,” Danni said indignantly. “I’ve got my tambourine.”

  “Hey, Gus!” Tyler called.

  Father Ryan made the sign of the cross in Danni’s direction. “Blessings,” he told her.

  “Ditto,” Natasha said, grinning.

  Quinn set a hand at the small of Danni’s back and urged her toward the stage. A moment later he had his guitar, and he and Danni had taken their places. Billie would join them later, so for now Father Ryan and Natasha joined him at the table.

  Quinn kept his eye on the crowd as they went into the first number, a song by Journey—a staple on Bourbon Street. They moved from Journey to Def Leppard, and then to Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin and Billy Joel. By the time they reached the Billy Joel number, he noticed, Danni had gotten into the beat of the music. He smiled; he’d thought she might. She had a nice knack for being able to hit just the right harmonies at the right time—and she’d never even rehearsed with the guys. Billie came up when they did a jazz number, and Tyler, with the natural ability of a true entertainer, introduced him. He took that time to introduce Quinn and Danni, as well.

  Granted, the members of the growing crowd were mostly inebriated, but he was pleased with the reception they got. Of course, he had a feeling that if Tyler had sneezed at that moment, he could have drawn applause.

  There was nothing out of the ordinary going on at the bar, but then, Quinn hadn’t really expected anything to happen. What they needed to do was get in tight with the music scene, meet more musicians and find out what the word was on the street about Arnie and his sax.

  After a few more songs Tyler announced that the band would break briefly then come back with more standards and some newer hits. He asked who in the crowd liked country music, and that drew another wave of enthusiastic applause. He promised they would also do some old Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson tunes when they came back, and after that, some Leonard Cohen.

  “Half of them don’t even know who Leonard Cohen is,” Tyler said to Quinn as they left the stage. “But this is still a good night.”

  “Good, I’m glad,” Quinn said.

  “You don’t see anyone here who looks like he might be a homicidal maniac, do you?” Tyler asked. Quinn realized he was only half joking.

  “He’s not going to look like a homicidal maniac. But no, I don’t think he’s in the crowd. I don’t think he gets off work himself until late,” Quinn told him.

  He turned around to look for Danni. She had been accosted in a friendly but slightly drunken manner by a group of frat boys as she’d left the stage.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go rescue Danni,” Quinn said.

  “No need.” Tyler pointed to a very tall black man with heavily muscled arms and shoulders. “You didn’t get a chance to meet Max yet. Max enforces the age limit here and removes those who get too feisty. You’ll love him.”

  “So long as he saves Danni from her teenage fan club, it will be great to meet Max,” Quinn said.

  It would probably be great to meet Max under any circumstances, he thought. Despite his size, the man didn’t come on as a bully. He walked up to the group and spoke in a friendly manner. The canned music was playing, so Quinn couldn’t hear his every word, but he heard enough to know that Max was nicely telling the guys that the lady needed a break.

  A moment later Danni was at his side and they headed back to the table together, the band in their wake.

  To make way for her to sit, Father Ryan rose. “Not bad,” he told her. “Not bad at all. Of course, I wouldn’t want to suggest that my pleas to God above allowed for any heavenly intervention.”

  They all laughed; then Quinn introduced Natasha and Father Ryan to Gus, Shamus and Blake.

  Quinn saw that Jessica was running around taking and delivering orders, along with two other waitresses they had yet to meet. He excused himself and went to the bar, where a young female bartender was assisting Eric, who was at the far end handing a pitcher of beer to a customer. Quinn headed in that direction, and Eric saw him and lifted a hand as Quinn reached him.

  “What can I get you?” Eric asked.

  “I guess we’ll take six waters. Looks like things are pretty crazy here.”

  Eric grinned. “Busy night. You guys are like lucky coins or something. People generally come and go, checking out a dozen clubs in a night. But we’ve got people staying tonight, and they’re all drinking. I gotta admit, I was doubtful about how all this would work out, but you all sound good together.”

  “I admit, I was doubtful, too,” Quinn admitted, raising his voice a little to be heard.

  “We haven’t been this busy since—” Eric broke off and looked down at the bar.

  “Since?” Quinn prodded.

  Eric looked back up at him ruefully. “Since Arnie Watson was sitting in with the band. That guy could play like...like he was magic or something. God, I love it when the music is good.”

  “You play?” Quinn asked him.

  Eric laughed. “I dabble. New Orl
eans is the Hollywood of the South, you might say. In Hollywood, every server is an actor. In New Orleans, every server is a musician.”

  “We’re all something else at heart, huh?” Quinn asked. He thanked Eric for the waters, balanced the bottles between his hands and made his way back to the table.

  By the time he reached it, Jessica was there, apologizing for being so busy and not getting to them earlier.

  “Go for the money every time,” Tyler told her. “Hey, haven’t I seen you get up onstage sometimes?”

  “Yeah, but not tonight. It’s wild in here tonight,” she said. “Too busy. Which is good—making money is nice.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Tyler agreed.

  “So you’re having fun?” Jessica asked Danni and Quinn.

  “Actually, yes,” Danni admitted.

  “I’m glad. I have to tell you, it’s good to have you here. I feel safer.”

  “Don’t forget Max,” Quinn told her. “Max even makes me feel safe.”

  “Max is the best,” Jessica agreed. “Anyway, it looks like you’re all set, so if you’ll excuse me...”

  Father Ryan and Natasha said goodbye at that point, too, saying they were going to go barhopping.

  “A voodoo priestess and a Catholic priest, barhopping together,” Quinn said. “Gotta love it.”

  “Natasha knows a lot of the local musicians. So does Father Ryan, actually. You’d be surprised how many musicians are Catholic and flock to his church,” Danni said.

  “Including me.”

  Quinn looked up quickly at the sound of Shamus’s voice. He hadn’t realized that Shamus had stopped talking to the other members of the band and was studying them.

  Shamus had gotten himself a beer. He lifted his plastic cup to them. “Best priest around. No bullshit with him. He tells it like it is and lives in the real world. I’m not saying he tells everyone to go off and sin or anything like that. He just recognizes real life for what it is and accepts everyone just as she or he is, gay, straight, white, black or whatever.”