The Dead Play On (25 page)

“Okay, what’s going on?” Max demanded.

“I don’t know,” Quinn said, following the dog. “There’s no one else in here with you, is there?”

“No, sir, I’m alone,” Max said.

Quinn walked around and behind the bar. The cash register was closed. He couldn’t begin to understand what was making Wolf so crazy.

Then he noticed a locked drawer beneath a row of call brand 285 rums. “Max, what’s in here?” he asked.

“Stuff. Stuff that belongs to the employees,” he said. “I don’t know. I don’t keep anything in there. Don’t really have anything worth locking up. Guess the girls leave their purses or wallets or whatever when they’re working.”

It was just the bar itself that seemed to have Wolf worked up. But Quinn was curious about the drawer. “You got a crowbar or anything anywhere?” he asked Max.

“You want me to break the lock?” Max asked him.

“If you will.”

“You’ll be responsible?”

“I will,” Quinn said.

Max joined him behind the bar, opened another cabinet and took out a toolbox. He took out a hammer and a screwdriver, and used them to force the drawer open.

There were just a few papers—invoices.

Father Ryan called his name to get his attention, and Quinn turned. In the drawer where the tools had been there was a cigar box. Father Ryan took the box out and opened it.

“Sweet Jesus, I guess now we know,” Billie breathed. “I guess now we know the truth about the killer.”

* * *

“I didn’t do it, Danni. I swear I didn’t do it. Please don’t scream.”

“Gus, let me call Quinn.”

“Yes, call Quinn. Don’t tell him I’m here, but call him and make him get back here. Please. Because if the killer’s not here already, he will be soon. I know it. I just know it.”

“All right, Gus. Let me get back out there before people start to wonder where I went. I’ll call Quinn, but first let me—”

She stopped speaking as a muffled squeal came from the kitchen.

Gus winced. “Oh, God, he’s here,” he whispered.

Damn it! Her gun was still in the kitchen, Danni thought, praying that her instincts were right. “Gus, get back behind that stack of canvases, and stay there until I call you.”

He obeyed her instantly.

She opened the door and jumped. Jessica was standing there, holding her son tightly in her arms. Her eyes were wide with fear and horror.

And, Danni realized, she wasn’t alone. Eric Lyons was standing behind her, a gun shoved into Jessica’s back.

“Hello, Danni. How nice to see you. Here we are. Most of us, anyway. Tyler, Bo Ray, Shamus, Brad and Jenny are all nicely tied up in the kitchen. Poor Mr. and Mrs. Watson are knocked out upstairs, but I’d hate to have them wake up to find out what I did to their grandson when you didn’t give me the sax. I know you have it. It’s what you do. You collect things. It took me a while, but I finally figured out that skinny bastard Billie has been playing it. Where is it, Danni? Where’s Arnie’s special sax?”

Danni couldn’t have been more stunned. She didn’t know why. Eric had said that he played; he’d said that he wasn’t very good. She knew she had to think fast, but she had no idea what to do. Quinn and Billie and Father Ryan could come walking back in any minute, completely unaware. And while there would be three of them—
and there were cops right outside
—someone in the house could die if she didn’t play this just right.

“You think
Billie
has been playing Arnie’s sax?” she asked.

“Don’t mess with me. Just shut up and get it for me from wherever it is,” he said harshly. Jessica let out a little yelp as he shoved the gun harder into her back. “I’m in control here, and I’ll kill one of you for every minute you make me wait.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll get you the sax,” she said. “It’s up in Billie’s room.”

To her surprise, he was looking past her.

He was staring at the picture she had sketched of all of them at the club.

He shoved Jessica hard, sending her flying into the room. She clutched Craig close to her to keep from dropping him as she fell to her knees with a sob.

“Shut up!” he warned her. “I’d be happier than hell to kill that bastard’s illegitimate brat. I tried so hard, Jessica. I would have done anything for you. But you were sleeping with
him
, slinking away, the two of you, to screw like rabbits!”

“I didn’t know!” Jessica cried. “I didn’t know you cared!”

Eric’s eyes shot back to the drawing. “There we are, just like always. All of you there, and not one of you noticing me. Arnie’s not in the picture, so the attention is all on the bastard’s kid.”

Danni gasped, realizing then what she should have seen all along. “You! You’re the one by the tree in my dad’s picture.”

He swung on her, pointing the gun her way. “Yeah, I’m in the picture. Not one of you ever saw me back then. I was just a kid. I wasn’t ‘special.’ I couldn’t sing or act or draw. I was just there. And not one of you ever saw me. You, Danni, you were just like Jessica. Sashaying around and never seeing me, never speaking to me, never hearing me when I tried to speak to you. Well, that’s going to change for the rest of my life. I’m going to have the sax. I’m going to play so well that the whole world hears me, and then everyone will see me.”

“You weren’t in my graduating class—” Danni began.

“No, I wasn’t in anyone’s graduating class, because I left that damn school. You just made my point for me, Danni. None of you saw me, so none of you noticed when I wasn’t there anymore. When I started at the bar—which I own, by the way, not that any of you ever bothered to find that out—not one of you knew me. You passed me in the halls, sat next to me at assemblies, but not one of you saw me. But that’s all over.”

He suddenly reached for the drawing on the board, ready to tear it to shreds. As he did, Gus came flying out from behind the pile of canvases.

But Eric was too fast. He swung in time and fired. There was very little sound, but Gus crumpled to the floor, his temple bleeding.

Craig began to cry. Jessica was still sobbing herself as she tried to soothe him.

“A silencer. Clever,” Danni said, trying to remain calm—trying not to rush to Gus’s side.

“Get up,” Eric told Jessica. “And you!” he said, spinning on Danni. “Get me that sax, and don’t try to fool me. Make it the right one!”

“I told you, it’s upstairs,” she said.

“Then we go upstairs,” he said. He indicated with the gun that she and Jessica were to precede him. “And no sudden moves or the kid dies first.”

All she could do was play for time. Quinn would come back soon. Or he would call, and when she didn’t answer...

He would send the cops or come rushing in himself, and someone would die. Someone else. Gus was already bleeding out his life on her studio floor, if he wasn’t already dead.

“Move!” Eric told her, waving his gun. His Glock 19, modified with a silencer.

Danni had no choice. She moved.

* * *

“Why don’t you call the cops stationed out front?” Billie shouted, running behind Quinn.

Quinn was running hard, determined—and afraid.

“Because he’s in the house!” he called back.

“You can’t be sure,” Billie said.

“Wolf is sure,” Quinn said, and he knew it was true. The dog had barked insanely while they were at La Porte Rouge then suddenly lit out again.

“If he feels he’s cornered, he’ll take down everyone he can before he goes down himself,” Quinn said.

“The cops could go in en masse before he could do anything,” Father Ryan panted.

“I can’t take that chance. If he’s got a full clip in his gun...” Quinn said. “I have to get in myself. Without him knowing.”

They kept running.

None of them spoke again.

* * *

Passing the kitchen on her way to the stairs, Danni saw the bodies on the floor, bound and gagged.

She was shaking as she headed up the stairs, aware that Jessica—holding Craig—was right behind her.

And that Eric was right behind Jessica, his gun trained on her.

She entered the attic apartment shared by Billie and Bo Ray. It had a kitchenette/dining/living area and two bedrooms.

She didn’t have to go into Billie’s bedroom.

The sax he’d been playing was right in the center of the room.

“There it is,” she said, turning and desperately hoping that inspiration would seize her, that she would suddenly see something she could use to save them all.

There was nothing. Just the sax on the stand where Billie lovingly kept it, and near it, the stand for his precious bagpipes.

“How do I know it’s the real one?” Eric demanded.

“I swear to you, it’s the one Arnie’s family gave Tyler, and he gave it to me for safekeeping,” Danni said.

“Prove it. Play it for me,” Eric said.

“I can’t play any instrument!”

“If it’s the magic sax, you’ll be able to play it.”

“First off, Eric, you’re wrong. There never was a magic sax,” she said.

“The sax is magic.
I
am magic. Invisible. And when I play that sax... Show me. Show me that it’s the real deal.”

She had no choice. She picked up the sax. She didn’t even know how to hold the thing correctly.

“You’re going to have to show me how to...”

She tried to sound as confused as possible. As hare-brained as she could.

She walked toward him.

And when she was close enough, she used the sax as her weapon, slamming it against him as hard as she could, striking his shoulder and head.

He cried out, staggering.

But he didn’t lose hold of the gun.

“Run!” Danni shouted to Jessica.

Jessica didn’t need to be told twice. Her son gripped tightly, she made it out the door. Danni could hear her running down the stairs.

Eric was between her and the door. With little choice, Danni threw herself at the man, trying to bite his arm, to get him down so she could slam him against the floor—anything to make him lose his grip on the gun.

But he was strong. He threw her off. She tried to scramble up and tackle him again.

But he was too quick. He stood over her, the gun pointed at her face.

“Now you know me,” he told her. “Now you see me. And now you’ll die.”

She heard the sound of a bullet being fired and waited to die then was stunned when she didn’t.

Eric was staring at her, his expression stunned as she knew hers must have been.

A red flower began to blossom on his chest.

And then he fell to his knees, still staring at her in surprise.

Finally he crashed to the floor, and when she turned she saw Quinn standing in the doorway, lowering the weapon he had just fired.

Shaking, she stood then walked over to him, trembling.

They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. They just held each other.

And then they heard the sirens, footsteps on the stairs.

In seconds the night was filled with chaos. But it was over.

The sax was just a sax. Not magic.

And Eric Lyons hadn’t been magic, either. He had simply been a man.

* * *

Three days later there was a party, and it was a nice one, Danni thought. She had planned it well.

Victoria Tate was out of the hospital. Gus had only been grazed by the bullet, and he was grateful not only to be alive but also that the world knew he hadn’t been the killer.

They were at the house on Royal Street; The
Cheshire Cat
was closed, and dinner was being served.

Natasha had cooked a Creole dinner for them, with shrimp and cheese grits, crawfish étoufée, red beans and rice, turnip greens and salad, and bread pudding for dessert.

Jenny had said she wasn’t about to cook, and that she didn’t want to see lasagna again as long as she lived.

They talked a lot about Eric; maybe they all even felt a little guilty, Danni thought.

Guilty that they really hadn’t known him. That they hadn’t remembered him. That they’d never recognized him as the boy looking on in the picture her father had taken so many years ago.

“Did we make him a monster? Or was he always one and we were just the excuse he gave himself for what he did?” Brad asked morosely.

“We were never mean,” Jenny protested.

“We just didn’t notice,” Tyler said. “And maybe that’s worse.”

Hattie had joined them, and she told them determinedly, “Don’t go taking blame on yourselves. We are all responsible, in the end, for our own actions.”

“Amen,” Father Ryan said.

“There’s another question we really do need to answer,” Quinn said.

“Where is the real sax?” Danni said.

“Well, I’ve been thinking. And thinking,” Amy said.

“And?” Danni asked her.

“There was a bag of Arnie’s things... He said that if anything ever happened, he wanted to be buried with them,” Amy said.

“But I thought he was playing the sax the night he was killed?” Tyler said.

“Maybe not. Maybe he was playing a different one. He owned several,” Amy said.

“You mean...”

“She means we buried our boy with a bag of his belongings, just like he asked,” Woodrow said.

“Oh,” Father Ryan said thoughtfully. “We could arrange to—to look,” he said. “Have another graveside service.”

Jessica spoke up immediately. “No! We are not tampering with Arnie’s grave.”

“No,” Tyler agreed. “A sax is a sax, and Arnie’s sax... If there was any magic, well, Arnie and the way he touched our lives with his music, that was the magic. He made the sax magic, not the other way around.”

“All right, then,” Woodrow said, looking at his wife and smiling. “We will not disturb the grave. Our new daughter says no.”

“And I agree,” Amy said.

“Then that’s that,” Quinn said. “Tonight we’ll remember him and all the magic that was his life, and we’ll thank God we all still have our own lives. It’s over.”

“Well,” Hattie said, “hold on. It’s not quite over.”

“Oh?” Quinn said.

“I have a plan to end this sad chapter on a happy note that honors Arnie quite nicely. If you’re all willing, of course.”

“Do tell,” Quinn said.

So she did.

Epilogue

THERE WERE TWO
saxophones being played that day.

A few numbers had been chosen to allow for the bagpipes, as well. Billie was beyond delighted by that. He’d suggested that military men and women in attendance might enjoy the inclusion of the bagpipes, and the others had agreed.

The B-Street Bombers were together with a new member—a female lead singer with a voice like a lark.

Quinn was playing rhythm guitar; Danni was singing backup and performing two duets with Jessica, as well. Tyler, Gus, Shamus and Blake were playing music they knew like the backs of their hands, but still, the occasion was important and they were nervous.

It was probably, Danni thought, the best they had ever sounded.

She realized—glancing at Hattie, who sat with Natasha, Father Ryan, the Watsons, little Craig and Kevin Hart—that she might never know just what strings Hattie had pulled to arrange for the band to play at Walter Reed from 11:00 a.m. till 9:00 that night. Hattie was like a lovely fairy godmother.

She wasn’t a spring chicken, though, so it was a good thing the others were there, along with a host of Arnie’s old army buddies, to make sure she was comfortable and ride herd on Craig, who had learned that he could do more than walk, he could run. He was happy and laughing, and he was also perpetually all over the place. He kept the adults hopping, but none of them minded. He was a beautiful reminder of the past, of Arnie, and he was hope for all good things to come.

His smile was Arnie’s smile, and he had his mother’s faith that good things were everywhere.

Kevin Hart had obviously spread the word that they were coming, and that they were friends of Arnie’s. The cafeteria was full all day, and they were greeted with applause for every song. It was wonderful, but it was even more wonderful to see the way Jessica basked in the pride the Watsons showed in her.

They weren’t her parents, though they should have been her in-laws. But neither birth nor a piece of paper seemed to matter to them. They smiled at her and beamed with pride. She was the mother of their grandchild. She was family.

And they smiled just as proudly at Tyler as he played the sax.

It wasn’t Arnie’s precious special sax. But like that sax, it was magic when played by a man who loved it—and loved where he was playing.

When they finished playing for the day and said their thank-yous and goodbyes to those who had served their country, their families, the doctors and nurses, and everyone else who’d come, Amy walked up to Tyler and gave him a hug.

“Any sax is magic in your hands, son, as it was in Arnie’s,” she said, giving voice to Danni’s thoughts. Then she turned to Quinn and Danni, winked and told them, “Magic can always find a way into the world when there’s enough belief, enough longing.” She scooped Craig up into her arms and held him close. “Magic.” She offered them a wry grin. “And you two will always find it, wherever it might lie!”

Quinn was standing behind Danni, holding her tightly to him. She felt his whisper against her ear as he said, “Ah, yes. Magic. My magic is your arms, Danni.”

She turned and kissed him.

Yes, that was magic.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from WAKING THE DEAD by Heather Graham.