But he was also more.
She really hadn’t wanted to like him. But she did. And she sure as hell hadn’t wanted to find him intriguing, compelling, and attractive.
Sexually attractive.
But she did.
She’d had a few weird dreams. They should have been about ghosts…being haunted.
They weren’t. Her dreams hadn’t been horror stories at all. Rather, they were fantasies. There had been something like an old disco ball sending rays of color everywhere, and she and Ryder had been dancing. He had been giving her that strange smile of his as if they shared something unique and special. It was an incredible secret and a bond that went deeper than any other could go. She felt the strength of him in every movement. In their dance, he pulled her close, his eyes both tender and aflame, and she thought they’d come closer and closer until... She had woken up.
Now, she was the first to arrive at the shop. Once she opened, Ryder took a seat in one of the comfortable chairs by the coffee and tea service until Jared and Lauren arrived.
He stood to greet them. “Uh—hi.”
“Hi,” the two said in unison, staring from him to Casey.
“It’s all right,” Casey said quickly. “We had a chance to speak yesterday. Ryder is with the FBI.” She hesitated. “He and Lena Marceau were cousins.”
Jared still looked protective and fierce, as much as someone who was almost a throwback to a love-all hippie could.
Lauren seemed curious and wary.
“And how does that affect you or the shop in any way?” Lauren asked. She looked at Ryder. “I have a cell phone on me, and I can hit emergency call with the twitch of my hand.”
Casey laughed and went over to hug her and then Jared.
“What’s going on? Really?” Jared asked.
“Lena Marceau was in the store several times,” Casey explained. “We...we wound up having some serious conversations. I’m good with kids, so...we talked. She talked about her husband and about it being crazy having so much money. She didn’t believe her husband fell off a building, and she was frightened for herself and Annette. I told her to talk to the police. She told me she had planned to. I was sad when I heard she’d killed herself. You know Jennie was convinced she saw ghosts at the cemetery. Then...I went to see Stephanie Harrow, the baby’s guardian. And Ryder thought that...”
“I thought she was a sham, just tormenting Stephanie. Or worse,” Ryder said. “I thought she might be part of something horribly devious like getting rid of Stephanie and the baby, too.”
“But...” Lauren spoke and then looked confused. “Hey, I’m not FBI or anything—art major here—but even I know you look at the person who would benefit.”
“There are four people who would benefit,” Ryder explained. “But there’s also murder for hire. Whoever is doing all this is in for the long-haul. But we discovered that another person in the higher-up section of the company might not have died of a simple heart attack. And I think someone started watching Casey. So...I’m here for a bit.”
Lauren and Jared looked at each other.
“Well, we’ll be nice and safe,” Lauren said.
“Not that we’ve had trouble,” Jared put in.
“But you never know. New Orleans is not without crime,” Lauren said, but then she frowned. “You can’t just arrest the four people?”
Ryder smiled at her. “Well, there’s the Constitution. Innocent until proven guilty. And proving anyone guilty in this...it hasn’t been easy. Anyway, I’ll be in here for part of the day, and scouring the area the other parts. If I can help anyone in any way, just let me know.”
“Nice. Thank you,” Lauren said.
“I’m going to hang a few large canvases if you want to pitch in,” Jared said.
“Sure.”
A woman came in to browse the tee shirts, souvenirs, and jewelry. Casey spoke to her, showing her which goods were local, and explaining what some of the symbolic jewelry meant. Lauren spoke to another woman about a sketch of Jackson Square.
Ryder worked on the canvases with Jared. The two talked easily. She heard Ryder tell Jared at one point, “Yeah, I have a degree. Criminology. I’m afraid I haven’t an artistic bone in my body, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love art and music.”
“Everyone has music,” Jared assured him. “It’s in the body, the blood, the mind, and the soul.”
Ryder’s phone rang, and he excused himself, walking outside and down the block. Casey watched him go.
Lauren was next to her where she stood behind the counter.
“Okay...nice!”
“Yes. I mean, it turns out he was just really upset. I guess I don’t blame him. I suppose it was just something eating at me. We do have a shop where I do readings, and people often think that means you assume you’re something you can’t be. Anyway, Ryder was protecting his cousin, Stephanie Harrow, Lena Marceau’s sister. And—”
“I’m glad he turned out to be nice. Because he is...well, he’s employed, for one.”
Lauren had been engaged for a while to a man who turned out to be using her for room and board.
“He’s employed, yes,” Casey said and laughed.
Lauren grinned. “And he has a damned good body.”
“He seems to be in shape.”
“Great face. Those eyes of his...”
Casey knew where this was going but smiled at her friend. “He is nice-looking.”
“And he likes you.”
“He’s protecting me,” she made clear.
“No, he likes you. You can see it in his eyes.”
Casey thought about the short time they’d spent together. Their chemistry and conversation. The way he was not only with her but with his cousin and little Annette. He was kind, with a protective streak a mile wide. She knew it was fast, but she trusted what her feelings were telling her. “And I like him.”
“Hmmm…” Lauren mused. “He’s probably honorable and ethical and all that.”
“I imagine he has some good qualities.” Casey chuckled.
“Men like that don’t come around every day, Casey,” Lauren said, a seriousness replacing the levity of their conversation. “And you never just go out, which means the last time you were with someone was when you were seeing Sam Tourneau. He was nice enough, employed, good-looking...”
“And he only loved football.” Casey remembered the sting of that breakup. “I like football. But I also enjoy music and my friends and...books and art and things besides sports. But we’re still friends.”
“Right. And he was a decent guy. But you don’t go out a lot. I think this guy is cool, and you should get something going.”
“He lives in Virginia or somewhere in that area,” Casey reminded Lauren.
“Okay. So maybe he goes away in a bit. Seize the moment, my friend. I know what you should do if you worry about where things might go.” Lauren’s eyes widened. “Go mad for a few days. Don’t let it get awkward. He’s an agent. A guy on the move. So, premeditated sex.”
“What?” Casey almost choked on her laughter.
“Just agree to sex, sex, and nothing but sex.” Lauren giggled.
“I think you’re mixing up your courtyard dramas.” Casey rolled her eyes.
“I’m just talking about being upfront and honest. You like him. He likes you. Birds do it, bees do it... Have a thing while he’s here.”
“Oh, Lauren.”
Casey hadn’t realized Jared was standing nearby until she heard him laugh. “I like it! That may be my line. If Lauren would just be a good wing woman, I may try it on the hot girl playing the washboard at Pete’s one of these days. Premeditated sex.”
Casey groaned and was grateful when the shop door opened. A few members from a local retirees’ club came in. They chatted, and then one turned to Jared and asked, “Where’s our song?”
“Your song? Oh, you want your song,” Jared said. He looked at Casey and Lauren. “Ready, ladies? This is one of our finest harmonies.”
<
br /> Casey winced inwardly. Their favorite song was from Blue Oyster Cult. Don’t Fear the Reaper.
They did do excellent harmony with it.
But Casey didn’t get a chance to answer. Jared had already gotten his guitar and started strumming. She and Lauren were behind the counter. Lauren flung an arm around Casey’s shoulders and smiled, and they began the song.
Casey hoped Lena Marceau would not pick this time to come by.
Luckily, she didn’t see the ghost. Ryder, however, returned at the end of the tune, and while he had a strange expression on his face, he clapped along with the retirees. The group chatted and talked, and a couple of their members bought a few pieces.
The store emptied, and Ryder looked at them, moving his gaze from one to the other.
“Hm, do you people have a lunch or dinner break? Or whatever meal it is one has in the afternoon?”
“Oh, yeah, we cover for one another,” Lauren said. “Why don’t you and Casey go on out and get something? I had a big breakfast.”
“I didn’t,” Jared said and then gulped as Lauren nudged him in the ribcage.
“But I’m not hungry yet,” he added quickly. “You two go. And get back. Then, we’ll go.”
“Okay with you?” Ryder asked Casey.
“Sure.”
“She has something to ask you. Or suggest,” Lauren said.
Casey cast Lauren a scathing glare. Lauren smiled.
They started out of the store, and Ryder asked, “What would you like? We’re in the French Quarter. Most places are wonderful.”
“I’m not... I don’t care. I’m not that hungry. I’m actually a little on edge.” She looked at him searchingly. “Have you seen Lena?”
He shook his head. “Not today. I believe she’ll find us by tonight. We know she’s been to the house. She sees Annette that way.”
“Of course,” Casey murmured.
“So, what did you want to ask or suggest?” He looked at her with concern.
She shook her head. “That was just Lauren being silly.”
“She’s talented. There are wonderful artists working all over this city. It’s a magnet for creative types, I think. But Lauren’s work has something special in it. Heart. She has a true feel for everything unique and wonderful about this city.”
“Did you spend a lot of time here?”
“I did. Growing up. I was born in Gretna. Anyway, food. I am hungry.”
“Okay. Wherever. What about your call? The one you left the store to take.”
“Ah, that.” He smiled tightly. “That was my ticket into serious delving. The medical examiner from Mississippi called.” He winced. “I was there for the exhumation, and I have to say, I think I’m going to be cremated from the get-go. William Marley was embalmed, and the work was good. So, he decayed in the heat, but...there were remains. Enough for the M.E. to discover there had been a massive dose of cocaine in his system. He was well-known and had never been a drug user in life. At this point, the M.E. couldn’t find the delivery system, but he’s convinced the heart attack was brought on by the cocaine.”
“So, he was murdered.”
“Yes, and Jackson is going through the proper channels to see that the investigation into Lena’s death is reopened with the FBI. With me heading up the investigation.”
“I’m happy for you. But where do you go from here?”
“I have a friend locally who was one of the detectives on the original case. I’m going to bring him back in. And after Stephanie’s meeting tomorrow, I’m going to go after the board of directors one by one. Nobody else benefits from these deaths. I wish it was as easy as Lauren’s suggestion that we just arrest them all, or that Lena could just appear in front of a judge and demand they all stand trial. But we need evidence.”
“How did he get into the house—whoever the man in all the black clothing was?” Casey asked.
“Whoever got in knew the security code for the gate and the front door. Either that, or Gail Reeves let him in. But she was at her book club meeting. Several people vouched for that. Muriel’s.”
“Pardon?”
“For lunch. Muriel’s, Jackson Square. I’ve always loved it.”
“Fine with me.”
They were about a block or so away after having ambled somewhat aimlessly.
Casey had always loved Muriel’s, too. The place was rumored to have several resident ghosts, mostly past owners of the property. There had been a building at the location soon after the city was founded, La Nouvelle Orleans. The great mansion that had stood on the spot had been horribly damaged in the great fire that swept the city in 1788, though it had been rebuilt. The property was still prime real estate—caddy-corner from Jackson Square.
“You know they have séance rooms,” Ryder said dryly.
“And they really have seances.” She smiled.
They were only interested in eating today, and a friendly hostess quickly gave them a table.
They were served iced tea while their entrees were prepared. As they waited, Ryder leaned close and said, “I really am sorry.”
“You don’t have to keep apologizing. I understand.”
“Okay.”
“Good.”
“I was wrong about you.”
“I guess I was wrong about you also. Too bad you don’t live here. At some point, I could have taken you to see some amazing bands. Jared is friends with just about every musician in the city.”
“Maybe I’ll stick around long enough for you to take me out.”
She grinned. “Are you picking up our late lunch or early dinner?” she asked.
“I am.”
“Okay, then. I’ll take you out.”
“Sounds good. We’ll be almost like a couple.”
He was still close, and she could see a light in his eyes, both teasing and serious. “I was really wrong. I like you and admire you,” he said softly.
“Um—thank you.”
He leaned back, smiling. “You could tell me how much you like and admire me, too.”
She laughed softly. “I do like and admire you, even knowing what an ass you can be. But that’s okay. I understand.” She took a sip of her tea.
“So,” Casey murmured awkwardly, “what’s your life like when you’re not chasing down devious killers?”
“The Krewe is an amazing unit. According to the papers that define us, we go in when there are unusual aspects to a case. Adam and Jackson have drawn together an incredible group that has gotten larger over the years. We have our own separate headquarters, an array of forensic investigators, and some of the best computer forensic people to be found.”
“Your life is work?”
He shrugged. “A lot of us are friends. We know and understand each other. We go to ballgames. Adam owns a non-profit theater. Several spouses and significant others actually work there. We see lots of wonderful shows. We go to concerts, movies...and we have a Friday night poker game for whoever shows up.”
“Nice. I thought you were going to say you worked all the time.”
“I do work a lot. But you work all the time, too.”
“Work is fun. Lauren is an amazing artist, and I help with her projects. And we have a great time with Jared. He has some original work, and Lauren and I are going to help out when he records.”
“Are those two together?”
“No. They’re just best friends. We all are. We decided in college that we’d never screw it all up by dating each other.”
“So none of you is married or about to be married?” He leaned in closer.
“Are you?” she volleyed back.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“What?”
It was his turn to back off. Then he shrugged. “I came close. But...yeah. Work. I should say it was never going to work. She’s a good woman. We’re still casual friends. But she was...”
“Clingy?” Casey suggested as he looked for a word.
“Yeah. I’m a decent guy.
If I were going to do something, I’d just say it. But she was suspicious every time I got a call in the night, and I don’t believe in a life without trust.”
“I’m with you there. I never came close to marriage. I guess I tend to back off quickly, and Lauren complains I don’t give things a chance. But there needs to be some common ground when you’re looking at long-term.” She winced slightly. “Well, anyway...the food is great, as always. I should get back.”
“I’m going to go in with you and then head back out to the street.”
“Okay. You really think someone is watching the shop?”
“I really do. You already told me you had seen both Barton Quincy and Larry Swenson in A Beautiful Mind.”
“But that was before Lena came to me that night.”
“I’m guessing they knew Lena had been there before.”
“But just because she was there—”
“You don’t claim to be a medium. But you do read tea leaves and the tarot. If they knew she had been to your shop, they might have been trying to find out if she’d come to you with her accusation that someone helped Anthony off that building. And if so, even though it’s a bit of a stretch...maybe they were trying to make sure she didn’t give you information from the beyond.”
“Wait. You think our killer believes in the occult? Even I didn’t believe that a ghost delivering a message was possible until Lena appeared.”
“Either the killer believes or doesn’t want to take any chances with loose ends.” He smiled at her. “But don’t worry, I promise you…until I know you’re safe, I’ll be close to you at all times.”
Casey smiled weakly. She wasn’t sure how close she wanted him to be. The more they were together, the more she felt the strength of simple attraction.
No...
Not simple. He had proven to be decent, ethical, and even courteous. There was no denying his appearance, the shoulders, the slim hips. His long legs, great face...
She couldn’t shake Lauren’s words.
Premeditated sex!
But she couldn’t see herself just suggesting that to him since neither of them had anything else going on. How about some recreational sex?
“Ah, yeah.” She cleared her throat. “We’d better get going.”
He paid the tab, and they left, walking side by side the few blocks back to the shop.
The Dead Heat of Summer: A Krewe of Hunters Novella Page 10
