The Dead Play On (22 page)

By the time Quinn got off the phone, Natasha had found what she needed for Craig, and they were getting ready to go. As they were starting out, Quinn caught Father Ryan by the arm. “I think you’re safe right now, but keep the house locked up tight, and keep Wolf inside with you.”

“What about the band?” Natasha asked. “They’re still at the club.”

Larue overheard her and said, “I’ll send an officer to keep an eye on things there.”

After that it was just Quinn and the cops.

“He left her alive,” Larue said. “Assuming this was the killer, why the hell would he have done that? And the kid...the kid was just wandering the streets?”

“From what I’ve understood, Jez found him. Natasha knows half the neighborhood, so he figured she might know who he was, and they could get him home before his parents went crazy. But then Jessica saw him...and here we are,” Quinn said. He walked to the door. “Here’s what I think. The killer knocked on the door. Jessica’s mom answered it. He burst in and slammed her across the room. She fell. And then...”

“And then he stopped and left. I’m not sure he even came in,” Larue continued. “He turned around and left, and left the door open. Why?”

“He saw the boy,” Quinn said.

Larue shook his head. “With this guy’s disregard for human life, I’m amazed he didn’t just kill the woman and then the kid, too,” he said.

“No,” Quinn said with a certainty he couldn’t explain. “Seeing the boy freaked him out.”

“Why?” Larue asked. “If he knew Jessica, he knew she had a kid.”

“He didn’t know
whose
child,” Quinn said.

“What do you mean?”

“The kid. He’s Arnie’s. We knew that Arnie was hooked on someone. We should have realized it before. Jessica’s son is Arnie’s son, too. The killer finally thought of looking around Jessica’s house—except that he didn’t know the boy was Arnie’s, either. Not until tonight. I don’t know how he figured it out, but he did. I’d stake my life on it.”

Chapter 15

DANNI DIDN’T HAVE
to ask Jessica anything.

Once they reached the hospital and were left to sit in the emergency waiting room together, Jessica began to talk, and once she started, she didn’t seem able to stop.

“We should have been honest, from the beginning. We should have told everyone we were seeing each other again. But we’d both been through a lot, you know? We’d been in love before and it hadn’t ended well, so we both wanted to make sure things would last between us, you know? And what if it didn’t work out but we were still trying to work together at the club? It would have been so much worse if everyone knew we’d been seeing each other. It all started a long time ago, really. I was the one who started flirting first. I know you knew him, but I wonder if you ever
really knew
him, though. He was so kind, so sweet. He knew all along that he was going to enlist, though. We used to talk about it a lot. He didn’t believe the US should police the world, but he also didn’t believe that people have a right to attack us or anyone who has different beliefs. The first time he killed someone he was horrified. I mean, he was meant to be a musician, not a war machine. But he felt he owed this country. He wanted to do his duty. And he didn’t want us getting too serious and telling our parents until he got back, because what if he didn’t make it back? And then he did make it home, but things were different. He was different. So we took it slow—
I
took it slow, anyway. He was a lot more certain about how he felt—but things were going okay. He was getting to know Craig, and I was starting to hope we... And then he...he was...”

She trailed off, clearly unwilling to talk about Arnie’s death.

“Jessica, did anyone at La Porte Rouge know your child was Arnie’s child, too?” Danni asked.

Jessica shook her head. “No,” she said softly. She looked at Danni, her eyes tear-filled. “No, we weren’t going to tell anyone until we were certain we were going to stay together. Even our families didn’t know. Well, I’m pretty sure my mom guessed...”

She began to sob softly. Danni held her and patted her, soothing her as best she could. “So you never told your families?” she asked. “Not even when you were first seeing each other years ago?”

“We were afraid.”

“Why?”

“Because of the race issue.”

“In New Orleans?” Danni asked. “Jessica, half the people I know are some mix of white and black.”

“It’s—it’s getting easier,” Jessica said. “But it’s still hard. Oh, everyone tells you it doesn’t matter to them what color someone is. But then you do it, you tell people, and they look at you funny, like they just figured out it kinda does bother them after all. I didn’t care as much as Arnie did, though. He was worried.”

“His parents are the nicest people in the world.”

Jessica nodded. “Yes, they’re wonderful,” she said in a whisper. “And we were talking about telling them. About introducing them to Craig. Craig was Arnie’s grandfather’s name, and Arnie admired him so much...” She stopped speaking and winced, and then tears welled in her eyes again. “Then Arnie died. And I wanted the world to know that it was a lie, that he wasn’t on drugs and that he would never have committed suicide. But if I said anything, then everyone would know, and, well...I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I was afraid. Afraid of being judged. Afraid no one would believe me about Arnie, anyway, so I wouldn’t have done any good at all.” She straightened, as if forcing herself to act braver than she really felt. “So I kept my son away from everyone associated with Arnie. I was so afraid for him, because what if the person who killed Arnie came after him? What about Craig, Danni? Is he in danger now? And my mom. Danni, I did this to my mom. Oh my God, she could be dying!”

“Your mother is going to be okay,” Danni promised her, silently praying she was telling the truth. She pulled Jessica close again, looking over the younger woman’s shoulder.

They were safe, at least for the moment. Larue had seen to it that two officers were on duty at the hospital. Right now one stood at the door to the ER, while the other sat nearby in the waiting room, watching over them. There was, of course, hospital security, as well.

“It’s going to be okay,” Danni assured her. “Just think of what this will mean to Arnie’s family.”

Jessica straightened and stared at her, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“They have you now, and Arnie’s child. They’ll love you and your son.”

Jessica looked at her doubtfully. “Are—are you sure?” she asked.

“Of course! Jessica, he’s a beautiful boy. He’ll be a ray of hope for them. You can never trade a life for a life, but they’ll be so happy that Arnie left a legacy, his little boy.”

“You—you don’t think they’ll see me as some lowlife who was just playing with their son?”

“No!”

This time Danni knew she was telling the truth. Earlier in the day, when they’d all run into one another at the cemetery, Amy had liked Jessica just fine.

It was Sharon she hadn’t trusted.

Why?

Dr. Lassiter, part of the team taking care of Jessica’s mother, walked into the waiting room. He was a man of about fifty, his hair graying but his eyes kind.

Jessica leaped to her feet. Danni stood, too. Jessica clung to her, waiting and watching with dread in her eyes as the doctor reached them.

“Miss Tate, your mother is hanging in. She lost a lot of blood and suffered a serious concussion, but she’s stable now, and we’re hopeful that she’ll make a full recovery.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” Jessica cried. She started to collapse, and Danni eased her back down into her chair.

“When can she see her mother?” Danni asked.

“The nurses are finishing now—give it about ten minutes,” the doctor said. “Someone will be out to let you know.” He sighed softly. “The police need to speak to her, too, of course, so don’t tire her out. That could be dangerous. So no long conversations. Just be there, okay?”

Jessica nodded. “Yes, of course. I’ll just tell her I love her.” Tears were filling her eyes again.

“Cry it all out now,” the doctor told her, “then be happy and confident when you see her.” He nodded to Danni. “We were all lucky today,” he added with a grim smile.

As the doctor left, Danni saw Quinn and Larue arrive. Their timing couldn’t have been better. Quinn looked at her, and she smiled. It felt like her first real smile in hours.

* * *

It had all gone down just as Quinn had imagined.

The only thing he hadn’t nailed was the way the killer had dressed this time.

As a robot.

He and Larue let Jessica have a few minutes with her mother first, but when they did go in to speak with Victoria Tate, Quinn discovered he admired the woman very much.

When Larue asked her if she was up for a few questions, she told them to please come in then told them how stupid she felt for answering the door to a robot, of all things, and how incredibly grateful she was that her grandson was fine.

“When I think of what might have happened...” Her voice trailed off, and she looked at Jessica, who sat in a chair by her side, holding tightly to her hand.

“Mom, it’s okay. Craig is fine.”

“He’s at Danni’s house,” Quinn told her. “Protected by a half dozen people and a giant dog. Now,” he said gently, “tell us about the robot. Can you describe the costume?” He wondered if it was going to do any good even if she could. The killer would simply change costumes next time, anyway.

“He was a robot,” Victoria said, not blinking as she looked at him. “Just a big robot.”

“What kind of a robot?” Danni persisted gently. “Like a
Lost
in Space
robot? Or one from
Star Wars
?”

Victoria seemed to brighten. “Tall, thin and gold. Like the one from
Star Wars
,” she said.

Quinn glanced over at Danni. A common costume, they both knew. Available at costume shops all around the city, parish and state.

“Thank you, Victoria,” Quinn said.

“I wish I could tell you more,” Victoria said.

“You’ve been a tremendous help,” Quinn told her. They needed to get back to the house, he thought.

A very crowded house at the moment.

Glancing at his watch, he saw that four hours had passed since he’d gone running after Danni and the others from La Porte Rouge. The bars would be closing for the night; Billie and Tyler would be heading back to the house.

He rose, looking at Larue and Danni.

Danni rose uncertainly, a question in her eyes.

“Miss Tate, will you be staying here with your mother?” Larue asked her.

“I don’t want to leave her,” Jessica said. “But I have to take care of my son.”

“He’ll be fine with us,” Danni said. “I’m sure he’s sleeping now.” She still looked as if she were uncertain about leaving.

“The officers will stay on duty through the night,” Larue said. “You’ll be fine, Miss Tate, and, as Danni said, your little one will be fine, too.”

“Rest and get better,” Danni told Victoria. “And, Jessica, please don’t worry about Craig.”

Jessica nodded then stood to tell them goodbye. She thanked Larue and Quinn, but she hugged Danni and held her tightly for a long moment.

Outside in the hall, Larue sighed. “We’re going to need more cops. We’re trying to protect musicians around the city while keeping an eye on our suspects. Now we need to watch the hospital, too.”

“It’s going to end soon,” Danni said.

Quinn and Larue both looked at her.

“If this guy is going to go after every sax player in the city, a lot more people could die,” Larue said.

“But he didn’t kill Victoria Tate,” Quinn said. “He knocked her across the room, but then he ran.” Studying Danni, he added, “And you know why, don’t you?”

She nodded. “Jessica
was
the woman Arnie told Kevin about. Her child is Arnie’s child. You’ll see when we get to the house.”

“Already did,” Quinn said. “But why did she deny the relationship when we asked?”

“Fear,” Danni said. “She and Arnie were still working out their relationship. She was dragging her feet a lot more than he was.”

“But what were they afraid of?”

“I think Arnie was afraid of commitment while he was in the service, afraid he might not make it home,” she said. “But then their son came along, and he was out, and they were trying to figure things out when Arnie was killed. And then Jessica didn’t want to tell the truth in case that put Craig at risk.”

“Well, I’m sure the Watsons will be ecstatic,” Larue said. “Now come on. I’ll get you all home.”

* * *

The Watsons were already ecstatic, as they discovered as soon as they got home. According to Natasha, Amy had known the child was her grandson the minute she’d seen him. She’d cried for an hour and then started getting to know him, playing with him, singing to him then convincing him to go to sleep. The Watsons and Bo Ray were sleeping; Jez, Natasha and Father Ryan were standing sentinel in the kitchen. Jez volunteered to stay up that night while the others got some sleep.

The situation had changed tonight, Quinn thought, and he was still trying to get a handle on what that meant. It was interesting that the killer had apparently been as much in the dark about Jessica and Arnie’s son as they had been themselves. And he had been so stunned by the discovery that he had abandoned his attack.

He had changed things up, as well. He’d attacked during the early evening instead of the very early morning when his preferred targets were on their way home.

They would need to be even more vigilant in the days ahead. He’d never been a profiler, but even Quinn could see that things had changed for the killer. He would be growing more desperate.

And even more dangerous.

* * *

They were both exhausted; it felt as if they had been exhausted for days. So Quinn was surprised when Danni began peeling off her clothes the minute they reached her bedroom, leaving a trail on her way to the shower.

“You could wait till we wake up,” he said gently, and teased, “You don’t smell that bad.”

“Hospitals, beer, smoke, Bourbon Street? Ugh!” she called back to him. She disappeared for a moment then peeked out from around the door. “You’re welcome to join me.”

He was so tired, and the bed was so tempting.

But Danni was more so.

It was amazing, he thought a moment later, what standing beneath the hot spray did to sharpen his senses.

She looked as if she were trying to scrub away the clamp of fear that had settled over the city. But she needed to be held, as well. To touch him and be touched in turn, to curve into him and feel his arms around her.

The shower was for foreplay; his height made making love there tricky. Drying off became more foreplay, and crashing into bed, feeling the heat of her skin against his, breathing in the scent of her, clean and sensual, created the kind of desire that transcended the world around him. He’d thought they would be gentle, playful. But instead their lovemaking was heated and volatile, passionate and, finally, sating. At last, exhausted, he lay next to her. She rested her head on his chest, so he began running his fingers through her hair. He didn’t want to move, but finally he did. He got up and donned a pair of boxers. Danni was half-asleep, but he managed to get her into a long sleepshirt. There were just too many people in the house for them to sleep the way they liked, flesh touching flesh.

Four hours later, he was glad he’d urged her into the T.

He felt her move and was instantly awake. He realized that she was sleepwalking, so he let her go and followed her downstairs, where she headed toward her studio. As they passed the kitchen he saw that Amy and Woodrow were there with Craig, feeding him cereal and playing with him. Woodrow instantly looked up, ready to come to the defense of his family. Quinn smiled and motioned for him to stay then followed Danni into her studio.

She flipped a page on her drawing board, picked up a pencil and sat down on her stool then began to sketch.

It was the same scene she had sketched before—but with a crucial difference. The B-Street Bombers were all there. Tyler, seemingly unaware of anything but the music, was playing the saxophone, clearly transported by the music. Shamus was idly tapping on his drum set and looking toward the bar. Both Jessica and Sharon were at the bar, empty trays resting on their hips as they talked to the customers, smiling, relaxed and friendly.