The Unforgiven

by Heather Graham

  “You’re actually smiling,” Dan told her as they entered the restaurant.

  He and Axel were both looking at her, and she shrugged, allowing that smile.

  “I was thinking if you could put New Orleans and the Keys into one place, it would be about perfect.”

  “There’s the Mississippi River,” Axel noted.

  She made a face. “Lousy diving.”

  “Ah, well, that just means we all have to travel and get to know more places,” Dan said.

  She looked at curiously. “You dive?”

  He nodded. “When I can.”

  “I read you were an amazing diver,” Axel said, looking at her.

  “Once. No more. I don’t go out anymore. I...uh...” She stammered, wanting to change the subject. “I find it interesting, though. Key West and New Orleans have many things in common. They’re both party towns, which means people often miss what’s so wonderful about the heart of them. You have Duval Street in Key West, Bourbon Street in New Orleans. The Key West cemetery is in the center of the island on the highest ground...though, it’s not very high. But storms have caused bodies to rise and wash through the streets of both cities. And Key West doesn’t have NOLA architecture. It has its own style. It also has an amazing array of Victorian houses since once, it was highest on the chart with per-capita income because money was rolling in during the prime days of salvage.”

  She opened her mouth and closed it, embarrassed as she realized that the hostess was waiting to seat them.

  “Wow, that sounds cool!” the young woman said.

  Katie flushed. “Uh, thanks.”

  In a few minutes they were seated. She ordered iced tea while Dan and Axel opted for coffee. They both knew what they wanted right away; obviously, they both knew the restaurant. For Dan, pecan-roasted fish. Axel went for the steak. Katie still wasn’t sure she could eat, but they were away from the morgue now, and the aromas coming from the kitchen were enticing, and she knew food was something she probably really needed.

  She went with the special, a surf and turf meal.

  Their waitress had just left the table when Katie looked to the stairs leading to the second floor. There was a woman at the landing.

  She might have been someone dressed for a costumed event in a 1920s outfit.

  But Katie knew Dan’s ghost had arrived, sweeping in with flair and elegance.

  Mabel made her way to the table.

  Katie smiled, seeing Dan and Axel were about to stand out of politeness—and then realized they should not. Mabel waved a hand at the two of them, assuring them she appreciated their courtesy but to let it go. With the tiniest scrape of the chair, she took the empty seat next to Axel.

  “Miss Delaney! What a pleasure!” Mabel said. “I’m sure these gentlemen have spoken about me. I’m Mabel Greely.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard about you,” Katie said, unable to resist a smile. Mabel had shaken Dan Oliver in a way no living person could have ever managed. She continued. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “You’re a tour guide in the city,” Mabel said.

  “Carriage tours.”

  “Lovely.” Mabel grinned. “I imagine we have friends in common?”

  “I imagine we do.”

  “Gray Simmons, the English fellow who sailed with Lafitte?”

  “Yes!” Katie said. “I see him on Bourbon Street frequently. He says he loved to hang around the old blacksmith shop. Though, he tells me the building was used in so many different ways.”

  Mabel explained to Dan and Axel. “Gray died at the Battle of New Orleans, fighting against the British and for Jackson, though he had been born in Liverpool. So, dear boys—and Miss Delaney—please bring me up to speed.”

  Dan explained they had found Jennie dead.

  Mabel looked at Katie. “You know it was her?”

  “You don’t forget,” Katie said softly.

  “No, you don’t,” Mabel agreed. “I believe, then, that you have been right, that the killings are all associated. And the man you knew as Dr. Neil Browne is the killer. Jennie was his accomplice, except she crossed him or did something wrong.”

  “I think he knew I saw her,” Katie said.

  “And you’re feeling a little bit guilty, aren’t you?” Mabel asked. “You mustn’t. I’m sure she participated in the most heinous crimes imaginable.”

  “Think we’ll see her anywhere? Her...uh...” Dan asked cautiously.

  “Ghost, darling. She’s dead. Do just speak plainly. I’ve assured you I’m not offended,” Mabel said. “No, I don’t believe she’ll be around. I’ve rarely seen...evil come back,” she finished quietly. “Have you looked into Allan Pierce?”

  “We have a top researcher doing so. And we’ll get into the archives ourselves tomorrow,” Dan said.

  Mabel nodded. “You got me thinking on the number six.”

  “And about the fact this may all have started here somehow?” Dan asked.

  Mabel stared at Katie. “Your father was from here, isn’t that right?”

  “Yes, but he and my mom moved to Florida before I was born. He was in the navy. He lived many places through the years,” Katie said. “He came back after Katrina, and he and Jeremy went out in Jeremy’s boat. I mean, I guess it was my dad’s home, and he wanted to help. My mom and I didn’t come with him. The city was hurting, so unless you were going to be able to do something solidly helpful, you weren’t needed. I guess my dad didn’t want to be worrying about my mother and me. I thought we could have handed out water or done something. But I was barely a teen at the time.”

  “Interesting. And his family goes way back, right?” Mabel asked.

  “I think... I guess they came over with the major Irish immigration after the potato famine in Ireland in 1849,” Katie said.

  “So someone in your family was probably here back in my time,” Mabel said.

  “I imagine,” Katie said. “But—”

  Mabel waved a hand in the air and then went silent.

  Their food was arriving. She waited while they thanked their waitress and their plates were arranged on the table. When their waitress left, Mabel said, “I do enjoy the food on the table! I love seeing the delicious meals... Creole, Cajun or just plain whatever American is. Well, to be quite honest, I never did like hot dogs, but thankfully, they’re not on the menu here! Ah, that fish...it smells divine. I think it does. I imagine it does. Memory, yes, sensory memory, I believe that’s what it is!”

  “It’s very good,” Dan assured her, smiling.

  “Yes, I can almost taste it,” Mabel said. Then she shook her head. “With what you’ve told me about people running around the city talking about the number six, it does bring me back to Allan Pierce. I think that this killer had Jennie convinced he was powerful, in a supernatural way. Either that, or she was in love with him...and violence and killing and getting away with it. I doubt she ever thought that he’d turn on her.”

  “All right,” Dan said. “We look to the past. We know about this man, Allan Pierce, who was around at the time of the Axeman. He might or might not have actually been the Axeman. But he wrote about the power of being a special entity created on Day Six, like all men, but with a power above men. So either this killer believes in it all or he likes the legends. And maybe it’s even a challenge to him to be using the number six.”

  “I think the latter, and I don’t know why,” Katie said. “He murdered six years ago and twelve years ago, and he murdered three people each time. Which makes six. But here in New Orleans, he’s murdered three...or four, now, with Jennie.”

  “But maybe he didn’t intend to kill Jennie, so she messed up his number scheme,” Axel said. “That may cause him to go into a frenzy.”

  “Or to commit more murders,” Dan said. “Maybe he planned on three deaths first and then another three.” He looked at Kati
e. “Including you. He was at your house.”

  “Then, I would have been four, but he’d need two more victims. You ruined his plan to kill me.”

  “But he’s killed Jennie. I think we need to find out more about the couple and their niece who were killed in Florida,” Axel said to Dan.

  Katie inhaled a long breath. “So our theory is this. The killer is from New Orleans, and he planned it all from here. The plan may have included going to Florida specifically to kill my father, then strategically his next kill in Orlando. To the best of my knowledge, my father didn’t know the couple in Orlando. But they, too, were retired and older, and if I remember what they said in the papers, the husband—” she looked over at Dan “—Harold Austin?”

  “Yes. Harold and Marie Austin, and Harold’s niece Hennie, or Henrietta. Harold was seventy-two when he died, his wife, Marie, was sixty-eight, and his niece had just turned fifty.”

  “Harold was an engineer who had worked in Tulsa, Oklahoma, before retiring to Florida,” Katie said.

  “Hard to find a connection there,” Axel murmured.

  “What if the connection is George?” Katie asked.

  Dan frowned. “You think George is guilty now?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “No. But George was with my parents. George lived just a block or so from Harold, Marie and Henrietta. And George came here because they were making so many movies. He’s a perfect man to frame for these murders.”

  “I say any of it is more than possible,” Mabel told them, nodding gravely. “And while I do love the scent of food, I’m not good at all at shuffling papers around. I do suggest you all begin to look at these angles. And find the truth!”

  Katie nodded at the woman. She had been beautiful in her day, probably a bit flamboyant, and yet a woman ahead of her time, not about to be put in the background.

  And she remained on earth past death. Maybe frustration had kept Mabel there. She had suffered a terrible loss, and maybe her way to deal with the pain was to help now.

  Mabel rose. “Ah, my friends! The deliciousness of your meals is fading. I’m going to hitch a ride down to Bourbon Street and find some friends for a rollicking good time. While I see if I see anything!” she added. “You darlings of flesh and blood, get some sleep! You’re going to need it. Ciao, my loves!”

  She gave them a wave, blew a kiss and departed, half walking and half floating out.

  “She’s right,” Axel said. “We have to find the associations. Because Dr. Neil Browne is someone who has an agenda, or he’s the patsy working for someone with an agenda.”

  Katie shook her head. “I don’t get it. My father was a good guy. He served his country. He came as soon as he could when the levees broke after Katrina. Why would anyone want to kill him?”

  They were all silent for a minute. Katie looked at her plate. Despite her certainty that she wouldn’t be able to eat after they left the morgue, she had cleaned it all up quite well. Axel glanced at Dan. Dan shrugged.

  “What? Are you two implying that I didn’t know my own father?” she demanded indignantly.

  Dan shook his head, turning to her. “No, his very decency might have outraged someone. After something like Katrina and the levees breaking, you get to see the very best in people. And the very worst. There was looting, there were people left behind, there were horrible things that happened. We’ll never know the depth of it because of the flooding. People were trapped in areas.”

  “My father and Jeremy went out in a boat to save people.”

  “And maybe they missed someone. Or maybe he saw illegal activity and stopped it. Katie, we’ll figure it out,” Dan said.

  “Tomorrow. I’m about to keel over,” Axel said. “I’m going to drop you off and go and get some sleep. I suggest you do the same.”

  “The cameras were installed?” Dan asked him.

  “The entire house is covered. An agent will be watching the screens 24-7. No one will be coming near Katie’s place, with or without the dogs on the loose,” Axel assured them.

  Dan nodded. “Sleep,” he murmured. “Sounds good.”

  Axel rose to go pay. “Adam is footing this bill. The case is personal to him, too,” he assured them.

  “And we’re not...taking advantage of Adam?” Katie wondered.

  Dan shook his head. “Adam... Adam has the Midas touch. And he’s an amazing man. He uses his business acumen for good things and helping people. Of course, he put together Axel’s team, the Krewe of Hunters.”

  “And they all see the dead,” she said.

  “We do!” Axel said. He was back at the table, answering her but looking at Dan. “And we love to find the right new recruits.”

  Dan raised his eyebrows. “Let’s get through this,” he said.

  “Right. Let’s get through this.”

  The dogs were out when they reached Katie’s place. They were thrilled to greet her and Dan as they returned.

  The stables were quiet. Monty’s lights were out. He’d probably gone to bed for the night.

  Axel waited until they were in the house, then he drove away.

  Katie stood in the entry for a minute: she knew Dan was walking around, checking out every room, every window and every nook and cranny.

  He returned and met her on the landing.

  “All secure?” she asked.

  “All secure,” he said. He held her gaze.

  “And?”

  “I don’t sleep deeply. I’ll be awake at the first little yip the pups let out.”

  She nodded. “Okay. So...in the morning, I should—”

  “Take the day off. We’re going to do research.”

  “I’m not sure that I should.”

  “Monty will be fine with it, I’m sure.”

  She nodded and started up the stairs. He followed. When she stopped to ask him how and where they were going to research, he plowed into her.

  They were touching for only a second. His hands brushed her waist. She had caused the collision, but he laughed and apologized.

  In that second, she thought about him, really thought about him.

  She’d despised Dan so much for his persecution of George. But Dan had been such a haunted man himself. And he’d been willing to open his mind and listen, and now...

  She liked him. She still didn’t really know him, but she’d begun to like a great deal about him.

  More than that.

  Touching, the way his touch felt. She was embarrassed to realize that she wanted him. In the worst way.

  “What is it?” he asked. He must have seen something of her feelings in her face.

  “Uh, nothing! I’m so sorry!”

  She turned and fled the rest of the way up the stairs, hurrying through the small hallway and to her own room.

  She remembered that it had been a long day with a corpse and blood and the morgue... She needed a shower.

  A cold one.

  She stripped quickly, throwing her clothes in a pile. She might never wear them again. She should burn them. No, that was ridiculous. She could wash everything and then donate it where it was needed. Yes, that’s what she would do.

  She brushed her teeth almost savagely and headed into the shower, forgetting at first that she wanted it cold and standing in the steam. But the steam made her think of him...

  No, no, she told herself, just his body. He had an enticing body, strong, lean, muscled. It had been a long, long time since she’d even accepted a date for coffee or a drink. She was busy. She was...awkward.

  She kept too much inside, and she’d always been afraid of getting too close...

  Well, she wasn’t thinking marriage proposal.

  She was just thinking sex.

  She shouldn’t be. She should be trying to solve the puzzle of her parents, Orlando, New Orleans, Jennie, Dr. Neil Browne, the Ax
eman...

  But thinking like that was making her anxious.

  Maybe it was better to think about sex.

  She turned off the shower, stepped out and dried off. She knew she was exhausted, but she felt she was too keyed-up to sleep. She thought she would just lie down, turn on something completely diverting to watch...

  A ridiculous comedy. But not a romantic one!

  Nothing about criminals...

  Not the news, which would be about murder...

  She was standing by her television, holding the remote before a blank screen and wearing nothing but a towel, when she heard something downstairs. Like a door or a drawer closing.

  Pure terror seized her.

  While telling herself it was the stupidest thing to do, she raced out into the second-story hallway, ready to bang on Dan’s door or go flying down the stairs to meet the danger head-on.

  She froze.

  Dan was coming up the stairs with a pack of cookies from her cupboard and a bottle of iced tea.

  He met her eyes.

  He’d showered, too. His hair was dark and slick against his head. He was shirtless, barefoot and in jeans.

  He looked at her, frowning.

  “Hey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “I wasn’t sleeping. I just...”

  She stopped talking; she just stood there.

  He came up the rest of the stairs, setting his tea and cookies on the hardwood floor by his door, then came over to her. He started to put an assuring arm around her shoulders and seemed to realize she was wearing only a towel. He stepped back awkwardly. “Sorry. I, um, just couldn’t sleep. I hope you don’t mind. I figured I’d watch what they were saying on the news and snack on some sugar.”

  “No, no, of course not,” she said.

  Neither one of them moved for a moment.

  And then it seemed they moved together, started to speak together, but didn’t. They were all but touching. His face hovered close to hers.