Apparently Danni did, too. She rolled closer, as if unconsciously trying to get more comfortable. But she had come to bed naked, as had he. And her flesh burned against his body, soft and silken.
He waited a moment, smiling to himself. She’d made the first move.
He rolled over, taking her into his arms, feeling the firm pressure of her breasts against his chest. He kissed her lips, and his mouth grew more forceful, his tongue pressing deeper as he was instantly aroused by the mere taste and feel of her.
It was all she needed. She crawled atop him. The soft tease of her hair fell over his flesh as she leaned down, planting slow, lazy kisses on his chest. The length of her body rubbed erotically against his as she rose to find his lips again.
“Danni, I just—”
“You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” she asked softly.
He was afraid she was going to move away, so he quickly said, “I do...trust me,” as he gathered her in his arms, rolled with her and took the lead, returning every kiss she’d delivered to his flesh with a kiss of his own to hers. Never a passive lover, she arched and writhed and rose against him, and soon they were locked together, the world around them disappearing as they made love. By the time they reached a searing climax they were panting and damp, lying side by side, truly exhausted in the best way. He pulled her back into his arms.
She started to arch away from him. “Quinn...”
He pulled her back down to him and nuzzled her ear softly. “You really don’t know...”
She laughed softly and whispered in return, “Oh, but I do.”
They made love again, and it was beautiful. Finally they slept, bodies completely entangled.
* * *
Danni knew that Quinn worried about her when he wasn’t with her, but she didn’t intend to give an inch on what she had done the night before. She really hadn’t behaved stupidly; she’d made sure to call the police. In retrospect, she should have called him, too, and told him to head straight to Jenny and Brad’s, but still, he would have done the same thing in her shoes.
She knew, too, that Billie’s suggestion of who should go where tonight made the most sense. She was sure Quinn knew it, too. He just wasn’t great at admitting it when he had to accept a solution he didn’t wholeheartedly embrace, so she didn’t say anything to him later, when he simply let the plans for the evening ride. He had, however, she learned, called Father Ryan and Natasha, who had both promised to come to La Porte Rouge and stay there. Both had been appalled to learn that Jenny had nearly been attacked, and Father Ryan—being a fighting man’s priest, for certain—was doubly determined to keep an eye on Danni.
Maybe, she mused, that was enough to allow Quinn to accept the situation.
There wasn’t much of the day left by the time they were all awake, had made some kind of meal that was breakfast, lunch and dinner rolled into one and gotten dressed and ready for the night.
That took longer than usual, since Brad and Jenny had to borrow from Quinn and Danni, since neither of them had much of an appetite for going back to their house just yet.
Danni was much taller than Jenny, though, and Quinn had several inches on Brad, as well as a bigger build generally. Bo Ray and Billie both offered up whatever they had, and in the end Brad settled on a pair of jeans from Bo Ray and a T-shirt from Quinn. Danni had a dress she didn’t wear often, because she considered it too short, which made it perfect for Jenny.
Bo Ray assured them that he had the store under control, but despite his confidence, they had no intention of leaving until the shop was closed, the house was all locked down and Wolf was prepared to guard Bo Ray and the premises while they were out.
Quinn left first with Brad and Jenny. Before Danni was ready to head out with Billie, she paused to ask Bo Ray, “You’re sure you’re fine? You know not to open the door. I’ll be just a few blocks away, up on Bourbon. Well, you know that. If anything happens—”
“I’ll call 911 and then you,” Bo Ray said. “And I’m fine. Well, I’m fine ’cause you’re leaving me Wolf. I wouldn’t be so fine if you weren’t.”
She smiled, hunkered down to give Wolf a big hug before leaving and then kissed Bo Ray on the cheek, as well.
Billie—despite his grumpiness of the morning—was in a good mood as they made their way through the Saturday night crowds that already thronged Bourbon Street. He didn’t even complain when a slightly inebriated young woman leaning over a balcony above them managed to pelt him almost in the face with a strand of brightly colored Mardi Gras beads.
At least she called down an apology.
When they reached La Porte Rouge, a folksinger was entertaining the crowd. The young woman had a lovely voice, Danni thought, but her songs were slow, and people weren’t paying much attention. When she finished one number, Danni nudged Billie, and they both made a point of clapping enthusiastically, drawing the attention and finally the applause of the other patrons.
Tyler was alone, sitting at one of the round high-top tables near the stage. Danni claimed a stool beside him and explained that they were down one guitarist, and told him what had happened.
Tyler listened gravely. “Well, I’m glad we have you,” he said cheerfully.
“Really?” she said disbelievingly.
“Yeah, really. Jessica was saying the other night that there are a few numbers she’d like to do with you if there’s a chance for her to join us onstage. Now, that would be great—the two of you up there together. All those hormonal frat boys would go crazy.”
“Great,” Danni murmured.
“Frat boys pay with good money for lots of drinks,” Tyler said.
“Speaking of, I’m getting a soda to keep the old pipes wet,” Billie said, walking over to join them. “Danni?”
“Water, Billie, thanks,” she said.
When he had gone, Tyler looked at Danni worriedly. “Are you guys sure it has something to do with a sax? Maybe this guy is after a song. You said he took some of their sheet music.”
“And a sax,” Danni reminded him. “You have no idea where the special sax could be, right?”
He shook his head. “And I was his best friend. Well, here, of course.”
“What do you mean, here?”
“He was close with a bunch of guys when he was in the service. He was a staff sergeant and squad leader. He had three fire team leaders under him, who each had three or four men under them. His best friend in the service was Corporal Kevin Hart—one of his fire team leaders—who hailed from Houma. I can’t imagine that Arnie kept secrets from me, but if anyone else knows anything, it would be Kevin.”
“So he would have been discharged about the same time as Arnie, right? Is he back in Houma? We can take a ride out and talk to him.”
“He’s not in Houma,” Tyler told her.
“Oh?”
“Kevin stepped on a mine. He’s been up at Walter Reed getting his prosthesis and working on his physical therapy.”
“Oh,” Danni said softly. “Maybe we’ll have to take a trip up to see him.”
Tyler smiled. “Maybe we can get a friend with one of the veterans’ organizations to send the band up for the day. We could play for the patients. And I’d like to meet Kevin, too. Any friend of Arnie’s, you know?”
“We could just call him,” Danni suggested.
“You want a dead man’s secrets from one of his best friends?” Tyler asked. “A fellow soldier? You need to see him face-to-face.”
Billie came back with his soda and Danni’s water. In a few minutes Blake, Gus and Shamus came in, as well. They were disappointed that Quinn wasn’t coming, but Shamus said, “Not to be crude, darlin’, and forgive me, but I believe we’re lucky we got the eye candy.”
Jessica had come by with her tray on her hip, checking whether she could get anyone anything. “Now, now, Sha
mus. Quinn is the eye candy to some of us, you know.”
“Big talk from a little girl who never goes out,” Shamus said.
“Ah, but I have a child, remember?” Jessica said.
Gus laughed. “And you turned us all down before that, too. But fine. To you, Quinn would have been the eye candy. I’m just glad it worked out so I’m the happy one, no offense intended.”
“None taken,” Jessica assured him. “Danni, did Tyler tell you? There are a couple of duets I’d love to do with you. I’ll give you a list. Of course, I can only go up when the other girls are on the floor and it’s not too busy, but if you don’t mind...”
“I’d love it,” Danni told her.
Jessica went back to work, the folksinger left the stage and the band went to set up. Danni discovered she wanted more water and walked up to the bar. It was still relatively early, but people were flocking in. The female bartender who had been on the other night came up and introduced herself to Danni. She was Sharon Eastman, and she said she worked weekends and sometimes Thursday. Danni asked for her water then stayed at the bar to watch as the band continued to set up.
“On your own tonight?” someone asked from behind her. “Well, not totally. I see that Billie is here. Where’s Quinn?”
She turned around. Eric Lyons was leaning on the bar, smiling at her.
“Quinn is sitting in with friends at another bar tonight,” she told him.
“Ah. Well, it’s fun to have you all. Hope he comes back, too,” Eric said.
“I’m sure he will. He and Billie love to play together.”
“And you?”
“Well, I don’t really play.”
“You’re good at harmony—not everyone is. Trust me, I see—and hear—it all here,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“I love to watch,” Eric said. “People in general. See, watch Gus and the way he looks at Jessica.”
“She’s a pretty girl.”
“He has a thing for her—he always has. Unrequited love.”
“She’s not married?”
“No, never was.”
“Maybe she’s still in love with the child’s father.”
“Maybe,” Eric said with a shrug. “Who knows? None of us ever met him. Anyway, she’s a great worker with a great voice.”
Just then Blake waved to let her know they were going on. Before she could get up, Tyler said something to him then walked over to her.
“Jessica is going to do a song while it’s still not too crazy,” he said.
“Wonderful!” Danni said.
And it was. Jessica sang a popular Adele song, and she hit every note with clarity and beauty.
When she came down from the stage, Danni was grateful that they only expected her to do backup—and that Shamus or Tyler would be singing lead.
“You’re phenomenal!” Danni told her, stopping on her own way to the stage.
Jessica blushed. “Once upon a time I thought I’d be singing for a living. Not that long ago, either. Well, life has a way of getting you, you know?”
She walked on to pick up her tray, still blushing as customers complimented her and asked for their drink orders.
* * *
He studied the picture again. So it wasn’t the LaFleur girl. Oddly enough, he admired the way she had eluded him. Brad might have been tougher to deal with, but he’d watched and waited till Brad was gone. He knew what Brad was doing and just how long it would take him to come back.
He thought about Jenny LaFleur. One of the beautiful people. One of the inner circle. And more clever than he had imagined. He smiled slightly, thinking that he would have enjoyed actually getting his hands on her.
It was changing. All changing. He’d been timid at first. Of course, he’d thought he could trick Arnie and kill him without ever being suspected—and get the sax. Unfortunately, it hadn’t worked out that way. But he felt as if he was evolving, as if he was becoming a better killer, even if he’d had to run tonight.
They were afraid. They were all growing more and more afraid. They were grouping together; they were being careful never to be alone. That was because Danni Cafferty and that has-been football hero she was with now had gotten involved. That bastard Quinn knew there would be safety in numbers.
Eventually, though, they would be like rats. Rats in a cage. Arguing and growing impatient.
They would have to give up eventually and start acting normally again. They would go crazy; they would want their freedom and their own lives back again.
And now...
Now he knew there were other places to look.
There was Danni Cafferty’s place. It would bear study and time.
There was the Watson house...
He had time.
He just had to wait and continue to do what he was doing, observe then take advantage of whatever opportunity came his way. It didn’t matter to him; he had time.
Because they didn’t see him. Because he was invisible.
Invisible, as he had always been.
And would always be.
Unless he had the sax.
Yes, he could wait and watch. And grab opportunity wherever it showed itself.
He smiled, because he knew. He was gaining power. He was after a magic sax—and that made him magic, too. Because he knew the city and he knew the night, and he knew how to blend into the darkness and the crowds so he could carry out his search.
He was invisible. He was invisible even when he was in plain sight.
Chapter 8
BECAUSE EITHER JENNY or Brad had been targeted, Quinn knew it was important that he was where he was, but he still chafed with worry at not being with Danni. Every chance he got, he texted Father Ryan.
Father Ryan texted back every time that all was well.
During a break, Quinn sat with Jenny and Brad, along with Steve and Luis, their fellow bandmates. He didn’t have to bring up what had happened. Brad and Jenny did that for him.
“I was working on a song,” Brad said. “And it was in with the music that was taken. Not that it really matters. The song is in my head just as much as it was on paper.” He looked at Quinn. “None of the big labels are tripping over themselves to sign us, but Jenny and I have a small indie label, and we make a little money each year off our sales. Thanks to iTunes and Amazon and other avenues, we do all right.”
“So you think this guy has been after songs all along?” Steve asked. “Not that special sax of Arnie’s?”
Quinn looked at him. “You know that Arnie had a special sax even before the murders, right? Did most people?”
“If you grew up around here, yeah,” Steve said. He smiled a little awkwardly. “Anyone who was part of the Survivor Set knew all about it.”
“The Survivor Set?” Quinn asked.
“The high school was flooded during the summer of storms,” Brad said. “You’re older than us, so you’d graduated by then. But we were shipped all over the country so we could finish high school. There were a couple of places that didn’t close, though, like one private school in the Garden District, and they took in some of us. They—whoever they are—chose who got to stay because we lived in the French Quarter or Garden District or other areas that were still above water. There were about twenty of us, and by some weird coincidence, every one of us had some kind of musical or artistic ability. Most of us were musicians, but there were a few dancers and actors and actresses in there, and one or two artists. Danni was part of the group, so you probably know most of this already. We lucked out and got to stay, but a whole lot of kids did have to leave the area or just lost a year and graduated late.”
“So everyone in this group knew about Arnie’s special sax?” Quinn asked.
“Sure. In fact, there’s a picture of Arnie holding
it above his head while he ran across a flooded street. It made the papers all over the country.”
“So all of you became close friends?” Quinn asked.
“We were the fish out of water, I guess. Public school kids suddenly in pretty elite private schools. So, yeah, we hung around with each other a lot,” Steve said.
“But you know how it goes,” Brad said. “Eventually things got back to normal. Well, almost back to normal. Some families never returned after that summer. New people moved into the city. We graduated and all kind of drifted apart. Even those of us who stayed in the city didn’t necessarily stay friends. And remember, Arnie was a few years older than we were. The oldest guys graduated soon after the summer of storms.”
“And I wasn’t one of them,” Luis said. “I met these goofballs later.”
“So Arnie was in this group. And Tyler, too, I take it?” Quinn asked.
Jenny gasped suddenly. “Quinn, Holton Morelli was a guest lecturer when we were there,” she said. “And Lawrence Barrett was a teaching assistant.” She met his eyes, and there was real fear in hers. “Is this person killing off people who were part of the Survivor Set?” she asked, her face pale. “If so, he won’t stop. He’ll come back for Brad and me.”
Quinn didn’t really know what this new information meant, but he quickly said, “Remember, Morelli and Barrett weren’t really part of your set—they were teachers. And I don’t believe these killings have anything to do with surviving the storms. I think they have to do with Arnie’s sax. A sax was taken during each holdup.”
He doubted his words afforded her any kind of reassurance when she said, “But still...” and looked as if she was going to collapse into her chair.
“It would be nice if you could give me a list of who was in that Survivor Set,” Quinn said. “And if you can think of anyone else still playing in the city who was part of it.”
Jenny looked at him with wide eyes. “I know who else was part of it,” she told him thickly. “Someone who was actually in Arnie’s class. One of the musicians who was attacked on the street. Jeff Braman.”
* * *
They were trouble, Michael Quinn and Danni Cafferty.
The Dead Play On Page 14