The Dead Play On. Heather GrahamЧитать онлайн книгу.
in New Orleans. Suzanne Delmer is working on a cruise ship, and she’s crazy like a happy puppy. Before her it was Janis Bruge, and she’s out in LA now. This can’t have been anyone we know—it can’t have been. There’s just no reason.”
“Okay, so let me ask you something else. When you reached the house, did you see anyone around? Anyone at all?” Larue asked.
She shook her head, biting her lower lip. “There were some kids playing with a football in the street. A UPS truck down a block or so. It was just kind of a lazy afternoon. Typical,” she said.
More tears fell.
“Lacey, can you give us a list of people he’d played with recently and the places he’d been playing?” Quinn asked her.
“Of course,” she said. “You want his hangouts, too?”
“Yes, any place he might have come into contact with the person who hurt him,” Quinn said.
She frowned and gave him a hazy look. He realized she’d been doing pretty well for someone who had just undergone surgery and was on heavy-duty meds.
“You know what I think?” she asked.
“What?”
“I think there’s a crazy person in New Orleans.”
There were lots of crazy people in New Orleans, Quinn thought.
“No one who knew Larry could have done this,” she whispered. “There’s a madman out there, a vicious madman breaking into houses and torturing and killing people.”
“Lacey, the killer didn’t break in. Larry opened the door to him,” Larue told her.
She began to sob in earnest. “’Cause he was so nice! He would have opened the door to anyone who needed help. I don’t...I just don’t believe he knew his murderer. You have to catch him. He’s a madman, and he’ll kill more people if you don’t catch him right away!”
* * *
“Danni?”
Danni was definitely relieved to hear Quinn’s voice.
“In the shop!” she called.
“Whatever that is in the kitchen, it smells great. Can’t wait to eat.”
Quinn strode into the shop like a force of nature, though without any intent of seeming so. It was just that he was well over six feet, broad-shouldered and striking, and when he moved, Danni thought, smiling, he drew all eyes to him without even trying. Whenever she saw him—and that was often, since they basically lived together now—she felt a little flutter in her heart, especially if they’d been apart for more than a few hours. No matter how often they touched, he still electrified her. They slept together most nights, and when he was near her, he aroused her; no matter how often they made love, he still thrilled her.
Of course, she reminded herself, she was in love with him.
Even when she wanted to kill him.
He was bright, determined, compassionate and strong.
Also pigheaded and very annoying when she thought she was right and he disagreed. He’d worked with her father, something she hadn’t known until after Angus Cafferty’s death. That had been hard to take at first, but then, she’d never known that her father had been something of a secret sleuth, handling the same kinds of items she and Quinn handled now.
The Cheshire Cat had merely been the tip of the iceberg. Her father had dedicated his life to taking in or destroying items—old and new—with a reputation for being haunted, even evil.
“Oh, excuse me, sorry,” Quinn said when he noticed Tyler Anderson. He smiled slowly, and Danni realized that she was actually a little irked. Quinn’s memory was better than hers. He not only knew he had met Tyler before, he also remembered where and when.
Wolf naturally went trotting over to Quinn for a pat on the head. Quinn obliged absently, his attention on their visitor.
“Tyler Anderson. I know your music, man,” Quinn said, walking forward. He shook Tyler’s hand. “I watched you play years ago when you were at Paisley Park on Frenchman Street. I heard you were still playing around the city. I’ve been meaning to look you up. Great to see you.”
“Thanks,” Tyler said.
“So where are you playing? We’ll come see you,” Quinn said.
Tyler looked at Danni.
“Quinn, Tyler’s here to ask us for help,” she said.
Quinn looked at her, brows hiked high over his hazel eyes. “I...see,” he said slowly. “So, Tyler, you hungry? We’re having something wonderful. I have no idea what it is, but the whole place smells divine.”
“I’ll go see how Billie’s doing,” Danni said. “He should be done with dinner by now.”
The house that contained her shop was one of the oldest in the French Quarter, having survived two major fires that had ravaged New Orleans in the early years. The ground-floor entry led straight into the store, and a hallway led back to the kitchen, dining area and Danni’s studio/office. There were bedrooms upstairs, and a large apartment in the attic, where Billie and Bo Ray Tompkins, who also helped out in the shop, each had their rooms.
She would have called Bo Ray down to help, but he’d had his wisdom teeth extracted earlier that day. He was sleeping, and she didn’t intend to wake him up.
The basement held Angus’s old office, along with a number of items that never would be on sale.
“Tyler,” she said, “come on with me and I’ll introduce you to Billie. Quinn, can you watch the shop for me for a sec?”
He nodded, and she smiled her thanks.
“Billie?” she called, heading through the shop and back to the kitchen.
Wolf trotted after her.
“Just finishing up,” Billie said as they entered. “Hello,” he added, noticing Tyler’s presence. He stood, dusting his hands with his napkin and then offering one to Tyler. “Nice to meet you. I’m Billie. Billie MacDougall.”
Tyler introduced himself in turn.
“Well, then. Table is set, though you’ll need to grab another plate. The lasagna is wonderful. Italian food is delicious, though I assure you, you’ll find many an excellent restaurant in Scotland,” Billie said, looking at Danni.
She laughed and turned to Tyler. “I offended him somehow by liking Italian food,” she explained.
Billie sniffed. “I’ll be watching the shop,” he said, excusing himself. “Wolf, come along with me. There’ll be a treat for you when we close up, I promise, a few bits left over from a good Scottish leg o’ lamb,” he said, looking sternly at Danni before he left the kitchen.
A moment later Quinn walked in and looked at her curiously. “What’s up with Billie? He looked upset, like you offended him or something.”
“Didn’t mean to,” she said, reaching for another plate. “Tyler, please, have a seat.”
Quinn dug into the refrigerator. “Tyler, what will you have to drink?”
“Water would be fine.”
Quinn got another glass and poured them all ice water. Billie had already cut the lasagna into neat serving-size squares, which she dished out before sitting.
“So,” Quinn said, meeting Tyler’s eyes. “Tell us what’s up.” Then he took a bite and started chewing enthusiastically.
Danni lowered her head for a moment. Quinn had probably skipped lunch; he seemed to be starving. Tyler hadn’t even glanced at his plate, and she wasn’t sure whether to be worried about him and his fears or not.
Tyler pushed the food around