The Unforgiven

by Heather Graham

  There was no single woman there.

  And she wasn’t with any group there.

  They hurried back out to the street. But away from Bourbon, all was quiet. There were dozens of directions in which she might have gone.

  “Hey. We’ll find her again,” Dan told Katie.

  She looked at him, frowning, then lowering her head and nodding. “It was her.”

  “I believe you,” he said.

  “Maybe the wig can give us something? DNA?”

  “Possibly. I’ll make sure Axel gets it into the lab right away.”

  “But her DNA might not be in the system.”

  “Right again. Katie, we will find her. The likenesses you gave us of Neil Browne and Jennie were excellent. They haven’t put them out to the public yet, but officers everywhere have them. They may well find her tonight. And anyway, now we know she’s here. We will find her.”

  “Okay,” she said and breathed deeply. “You believe I saw her, right?”

  He smiled. “Yes, I believe...in you. And we have the wig.”

  “Right,” she said. “Of course you believe me now. We found the wig.”

  Well, maybe it was natural that she didn’t trust him. Their time together had been intense, but it had barely been a day since she had accepted the fact they might be on the same side.

  He was surprised himself when he took her face in his hands. “I said I believed in you. We were on the hunt before we found the wig. So, if it’s all right with you, we’ll leave this to the police and the agents for now. We’ll go back and get my credit card and then we’ll head out to see George, all right?”

  “Ah, right.”

  He dropped his hands.

  She looked at him curiously. “You forgot your credit card?”

  He stared at her, gritting his teeth, then shaking his head.

  “No. I chose you over the card, but now that I know you’re all right, I’d really like to get that card back. Now...”

  “Right,” she said, and turned back in the direction of the restaurant. “Oh! What about the wig?”

  He had his phone out. “It’s okay. I’ll have Axel meet us at the restaurant.”

  Axel was already near. He’d come with a group of agents to join with the police in the hunt for the mystery woman.

  He made it to Antoine’s before them and was waiting at the door with an evidence bag.

  “The woman you knew as Jennie, she knows you saw her,” Axel said, looking gravely at Katie as they waited for the confused waiter to get Dan’s card and the receipt for him to sign.

  “I... Yeah, she saw me,” Katie admitted.

  “And she ran,” Axel said. “She knows we’re looking for her. If we don’t find her tonight, she’ll go deep underground.”

  “We’re heading across to Gretna to meet up with George Calabria,” Dan told him.

  “Right. Well, I’m heading back to help the local agents search for our chameleon,” Axel said.

  “The wig—” Dan started.

  “I’ll have an agent get it straight to the lab,” Axel promised. They went out to the street. Axel offered Katie an encouraging smile and gave Dan a look he understood too well.

  Katie could be in trouble.

  She was the only one—besides George Calabria-now-Calhoun—who could identify the woman who had been on the boat twelve years ago.

  That could mean an even greater danger for her.

  “Let’s go to my place and get my car,” Dan suggested when Axel had gone on.

  “All right,” she mumbled.

  She was silent as they walked. Finally, she blurted, “None of this makes any sense. A killer who struck twelve years ago, six years, and then now. But here, there was a killer who acted in the same manner, but over a hundred years ago. And the number six. Dead goats years back—six dead goats. I mean, I majored in history, but the world has seen crime shows. Serial killers don’t just stop, unless they’re caught or killed or...or on the moon or something. What could make someone kill strangers in different places and...do it in such a manner?”

  “You know, I had a case in Florida once when a man poisoned five people in order to kill his wife and make it look like the work of a crazed serial killer. Motives are not always easy to find. This may be random, but there have been a lot of coincidences. Don’t be so disheartened. Mystery Jennie is here. They might find her tonight.”

  “She’s going to have disappeared into the Bourbon Street crowd.”

  “Maybe. But we know she’s here.”

  They’d reached his house. It was an old building, constructed after the fires that had ravaged the French Quarter at the end of the 1700s and early 1800s.

  Dan had always loved it. The place had a small front porch with columns and a balcony that ran the width of the second floor. His grandfather had always kept it painted a soft mauve, and he did the same, with white trim work. A wall surrounded the courtyard to the side of the main entrance, dividing the open side of the horseshoe from the street.

  “This is yours?” she asked.

  “Yes. I didn’t live here growing up, but I visited often enough. My sister and I are all that’s left, though, and as I said, she’s in Baton Rouge.” He paused. “She’s a media consultant. You’d like her.”

  “The house is really nice,” she said.

  “Thank you. You’ll have to see the whole thing one day. But right now we need to get out to Gretna to see George.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  They went through the courtyard to the garage. Soon, he’d maneuvered the one-way streets to exit the French Quarter, and then they were on their way to the bridge.

  “George will tell you,” she said as they drove.

  “George will tell me...what?” he asked.

  “She’s real. Jennie is real. And if she’s here, Dan...then I think the man I knew as Dr. Neil Browne could be the current Axeman.”

  They reached the little shotgun house where George was living in Gretna. The door opened as they arrived.

  The man had been waiting.

  He had gotten old, Dan thought. Not that he’d been young when he’d seen them last. Now, however, Dan figured he had to be in his late sixties.

  A thought nagged at Dan.

  Could he have performed such gruesome murders—could he have swung an axe with the strength needed?

  He might have simply retired, but he’d told Katie he was working for the film industry.

  As Dan had expected, the man’s face turned white when he saw Dan was with Katie. He’d started to greet her with a hug.

  Then he’d seen Dan.

  “Oh, God!” he exclaimed, as he seemed to freeze.

  “It’s all right, George, it’s all right,” Katie assured him.

  “No, no, no,” the man muttered painfully.

  “Sir,” Dan calmly addressed him, “Katie has changed my mind. We’re here to see how we can help you, and I hope you can help us.”

  George looked at Katie. His eyes were a light powdery blue. His hair was thinning. Once, he had been all bluster and fury.

  Now, he just looked tired.

  He stared at Dan distrustfully.

  “George, it’s true. George, I saw her. Jennie. She’s here. In New Orleans.”

  They were still just standing at the front of his house. “Let’s just go in,” he said.

  It was a simple place, a single story, and there was a dining table just beyond the small parlor. George led them there. He’d made a pot of coffee. It was on the table along with containers of milk and sugar—and two cups.

  He left them to sit, muttering that he’d get another cup.

  He did, and they all sat.

  George stared at Dan. His tone was dull and dry when he said, “You didn’t want to come and arrest me the minute you heard the
re were more axe murders and I was in the area?”

  “Part of me did, yes,” Dan said. “But Katie asked me to have an open mind. And I’ll be honest, we all doubted the existence of the other couple on the boat with you. It wasn’t just me. My superiors believed Katie was young, you were all that was left, and she’d support anything you had to say in your defense. So I guess right now I’m going to ask you to forgive me. Because I need to know everything you remember.”

  “You heard it all in court.”

  “I need to hear it all again.”

  George nodded and then shook his head. “Anita had just come back from her dive. I knew there was a boat next to ours when she came up, but I didn’t realize anyone else had boarded.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know how I survived. There was just a shadow, a big shadow behind me. I turned, not expecting anything except maybe Lou, and instead...something smashed my head. I was by the hull, and I fell...and I vaguely remember feeling the water as I hit it again. I didn’t see who hit me. I didn’t know... I didn’t know what had happened to my wife and Katie’s folks until I was in the hospital. And I asked about Dr. Neil Browne and Jennie, and they all acted like I was crazy. Oh, they searched. And bodies have just disappeared out at sea like that. But...”

  He exhaled. “I couldn’t bear my home without Anita. I moved to Orlando. And then...well, after Orlando, with half those who knew me still suspicious, I changed my name. A friend there knew some people up here who were new to the movie business and hiring and...it was something to do. I had to have something to do. I couldn’t bear living with just myself hour after hour, thinking about the past.”

  “Okay,” Dan said. “Tell me again what you can remember about what happened on the boat before you were struck.”

  George was thoughtful.

  “Anita had just come up, wondering if Katie had returned to the boat. She was distressed, not sure how she could have lost Katie. So I was on the dive platform, watching for Katie, while Anita ran down to talk to Lou and the group. She was going to get them all out and looking for Katie in the water. She had to be near.” He grimaced, looking at Katie. “You were a good diver, but Anita was worried. She just didn’t understand how you had lost each other.”

  Katie shook her head and took his hand. “George, I’m so sorry.”

  “Katie, you’re alive because you were in the water, and you didn’t cause any of what happened,” Dan said sharply. “If you had come up with Anita, you’d have been dead, too.”

  “Katie, that’s true,” George told her. “I was aft. The scariest part of it now is that I was curious, not frightened, when I sensed the darkness of a shadow behind me. And all I remember—I’ve tried, I’ve tried so hard—is that darkness. And before that... I’d been in the water, too, for a while. I knew there were other boats around, but it was a popular dive spot.” He paused again. “That’s why I believed Neil and Jennie had been killed, too. I believed someone came off another boat, and maybe they’d been struck or killed and thrown over.”

  “But their bodies never turned up,” Dan said.

  “Right,” George agreed. “And there was a massive search for them.” He shook his head again. “They seemed like the nicest people in the world when we met them. And Lou was always so welcoming to new people. Your parents were great, Katie.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “I will forever be so sorry and hate myself for believing in strangers.”

  “We’ve all believed the best in people who haven’t deserved to be trusted,” Dan assured him.

  “I have an alibi for the night of the murders here, though! We worked until one in the morning,” he said. “This football star was ending the filming with a free kick. The star player couldn’t make the kick that night to save his life!”

  Dan was quiet. Mr. and Mrs. Rodenberry might have been killed around midnight—or up to two hours after. But he had promised to have an open mind. George was staring into space, as if he could see back in time. He shook his head. “I don’t really blame you for connecting me when the second murders happened. I lived two blocks from the house where they occurred, and there are many more people than you, Dan Oliver, who figured everything about me was a sham. Please understand. I thought about taking a handful of pills several times. Then... I found out I like working long hours. Don’t ever want to be in front of a camera, but I love being a grunt when pictures are being made. I was almost...happy. And now this. But what is so bizarre now is after what happened, with everyone talking, I looked up the old Axeman of New Orleans. Witnesses saw a dark figure. It couldn’t have been. But whoever was behind me, they weren’t in a black dive skin or suit of any kind. They were wearing black, enough to appear to be a giant shadow sweeping down.”

  “Here’s my suggestion, George. I’m going to inform the team you are living here. If I don’t, they’ll find out, and they’ll want to know why you didn’t come forward. Now I can say you did,” Dan told him.

  “There goes my job,” George said.

  “Why?” Dan asked him.

  “People will associate me with—”

  “No. Law enforcement needs to know, not the general public. Do you have any money?”

  George frowned, and swinging around to look at him, Katie frowned, too.

  “I, uh, yeah... I’m comfortable. Not rich, comfortable.”

  “Here’s my suggestion. You check into a hotel that uses key cards. You get yourself into bed as early as possible, and you don’t open your door again. That way, if someone wants to bring you to court, you have technical proof that you weren’t out killing people in the middle of the night.”

  “Because this killer will kill again...here?” George asked.

  “I think so. I think New Orleans and the similarity to the old Axeman were always in the killer’s mind. Where else to go into a final frenzy?” Dan asked softly.

  “All right. I’ll get some things. I’ll head over to one of the big chain hotels on Canal Street. That will work, right? I can leave my car here and grab the trolley when I need to get somewhere,” George said.

  Dan was afraid Katie was going to suggest that George should stay with her.

  “I’d have you with one of us, George, except our hours on this might be ragged, and it’s best if you’re covered.”

  He wasn’t sure if Katie bought it or not. She was just staring at him.

  George nodded again and then rose, heading for his bedroom to pack a few things.

  Dan saw Katie was still staring at him.

  “Is that real?”

  “Yes. When you have key cards, there is a record of when doors open and close.”

  “Even if you don’t lock them?”

  “Katie, he needs to be seen by people. There are cameras in the large hotels as well. If he’s accused of something, police will have access to key-card records and security footage. It’s best for George. Trust me. Safer for him, too.”

  “You think he’s in danger.”

  He stared at her hard across the table. She seemed to be trusting in him.

  “Not as much as you,” he said softly.

  “Me?”

  “You saw the woman you knew as Jennie. She saw you. If she’s alive, then she’s now a key suspect in your parents’ murders. Yes, you’re in danger now.”

  “Thank God for the boys,” she murmured.

  “Katie, the dogs may not be enough.”

  “I am not going to a hotel, too. Dan. Believe me, I don’t want to be anyone’s victim, but—”

  “Here comes George. We’ll talk about it later.”

  George was coming out of his room with a small suitcase. “I’m ready. Hey, you can put an ankle monitor on me, if you like.”

  “George, at the moment, I’m looking after you.”

  “I see that,” George said. He glanced at Katie. “How in God’s name did you co
nvince him I’m not a crazed murderer?”

  “I’m not sure I did,” Katie said. “But I do believe he’s trying to protect you. So, we need to lock up and get you to safety.”

  They all stood and headed for the door. They waited as George locked up his house. He looked back at it as they walked to Dan’s car.

  “The old Axeman chiseled out panels to get in houses. He used the axes owned by the people he attacked,” he said. He looked at Katie woefully. “Thankfully, I don’t own an axe.”

  Katie gave him a weak smile, and they all piled into the SUV.

  As they drove, Katie asked him, “Does the number six mean anything to you?” she asked.

  “Six?” George said. He shrugged. “I’m sure it’s something in numerology. And I’m willing to bet there are a dozen mediums working their shops or out by the cathedral and Jackson Square who could tell you about the number. I mean, I guess all numbers mean something. Why?”

  “Curious. It just seems to be a thing around the city,” Katie said.

  “Six. Hm. Don’t know. Bet your father would have, Katie,” he said.

  “Maybe.”

  Dan headed back across the bridge, and as they came to Canal, he asked George which hotel he would like.

  George shrugged and grinned. “Harrah’s. No, not a good idea now. I might be out in the middle of the night. I like cards. Discovered that a little late, but yeah, I like cards.”

  “So—”

  “Right there. That one is good!”

  Dan drove around the corner from Canal onto Chartres Street to bring George through the driveway and valet of a hotel that was part of a big national chain.

  A young bellhop came to help him.

  “You’re going to believe that I’m going to check in?” George asked Dan dryly.

  “I’m thinking that yeah, you’re going to,” Dan said pleasantly. “For your own safety, and because you know I’ll have access to all the security cameras.”

  “He’s good,” George told Katie, standing by her window and leaning down to talk to them both. “Then again, if he is so damned good, why didn’t he catch the real killer in Orlando?”

  He patted at the car door and walked away, following the bellhop into the lobby.