New Orleans Nightmare

by Alison Golden

  Sam smiled at her. “Indeed. Even if they are a little eccentric.”

  Roxy laughed quietly. “Just a little.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THE EARLY MORNING sun poured into Roxy’s room and she woke up with a newfound sense of joy. She felt totally and utterly refreshed. It was as if the good energy from the crystals the previous evening had swept away all her cares and worries, leaving confidence and optimism in their place. Nefertiti was sleeping beside her, and Roxy sunk her hands into her soft white fur. The cat woke and blinked at her. She looked as if she might be smiling too.

  “Good morning, princess,” Roxy said. “How are you this morning?”

  “Meeeooowwwww.”

  Roxy giggled. “Right! I have the feeling that today is going to be a good day.”

  Her mood didn’t even dip when she thought of Dash. She remembered what Sage had said—that Dash was on the other side, watching them. She knew that Michael would honor Dash’s memory in only the best ways and that Dash’s message of the importance of realizing one’s dreams would be spread far and wide.

  They still hadn’t heard from the police beyond the initial interviews. Detective Johnson had been very tight-lipped. She didn’t know how the investigation was going or what kind of poison had killed Dash, nor did she know how it had gotten into his bloodstream. All of them in the hotel that night were under suspicion for murder, and there was the still unresolved question of the role her hotel’s food had played in Dash’s death. The forensics team had returned just like Johnson had promised they would. They had taken away samples of food from the kitchen, but Roxy had heard nothing. Even if it were found that her food had nothing to do with Dash’s death, Roxy knew as well as anyone that mud stuck. But even that didn’t matter right then. The sense of calm that pervaded her was too deep to feel any sort of worry at all. Everything would work out. Of course, it would.

  After showering and dressing in a canary yellow sundress—something she only felt good wearing when she was feeling just as sunny inside—Roxy headed to the kitchen. There was a wonderful aroma coming from it.

  “Morning, Nat!” Roxy said, cheerfully.

  Evangeline wasn’t working that morning. Nat had got the hang of making all the breakfast dishes now, and Evangeline liked her lie-ins.

  Nat flashed her a grin, looking back from the big pot she was stirring. “Hey, girl.”

  “I feel wonderful this morning,” Roxy said. “Like everything’s going to work out. I feel like maybe taking Sylvia and Lily and the rest of them on some kind of tour. A boat trip, maybe?”

  “Great idea!” said Nat. “I’d like to come too. I think we could all do with a nice little cocktail cruise to forget our troubles.”

  “Cocktails! You’re a genius!” said Roxy. “That sounds like just the remedy. The influencers will be able to take wonderful pictures down the river too.”

  Nat nodded. “Glad I could help.”

  Roxy grinned mischievously. “So how did you like the tarot reading and crystals last night?” She chuckled. "Get any messages from the other side?” Nat was not into anything spiritual or magical, and Roxy enjoyed teasing her about it.

  “Of course not!” Nat said. “I hid in the kitchen all evening, didn’t I? Load of rubbish.” There was a little pause before she said sheepishly, “But I do have to say that I woke up feeling fantastic.”

  “Me too!” said Roxy. “It’s like…I don’t know, it’s hard to describe. Maybe like…like the air has glitter in it!”

  Nat burst out laughing. “You crazy, girl, but I know exactly what you mean! I got up all excited. Got everything ready so everyone can have a full cooked breakfast if they want one. And I’ve been for a run.” Nat lived in a unit that was situated immediately behind the Funky Cat. “But of course, that has nothing to do with crystals.”

  Roxy grinned. “No, nothing at all.”

  “How about Dr. Jack, though?” Nat said excitedly. “He’s so wonderfully nuts. When do you think we’ll be invited to his and Sage’s wedding?”

  “That’s what I was thinking!” said Roxy. “He’s exactly her type. They’d be wonderful together.”

  “Totally! And then Sage would be able to live in a magical supplies store. Wouldn’t that be her dream? He told me he lives in the apartment above it.”

  “She would be in heaven,” Roxy said. She let out a happy sigh. “I love living here. Don’t you?”

  “Yep,” said Nat. “And it looks like Detective Johnson isn’t focused on me at all, so that’s a plus. I am always really worried around him, but he’s not said anything to me about, you know, my paperwork. I guess he hasn’t noticed, or maybe he doesn’t care. Perhaps murder investigations are his one and only thing. Anything beyond that, and he’s not interested.”

  “Probably,” said Roxy. “He does seem very focused. Laser-like. He hasn’t contacted us with any update though, has he?”

  Nat laughed. “Thank goodness. No news is good news.”

  “Are you going to do anything about your status?” Roxy asked, quietly. “Try to get legal?”

  Nat bit her lip. “Well, to be honest, Rox, Sam told me that if I was found out, you could be in trouble too. You know, for hiring me, so I’m going to do something about it. It’s not fair to you for me to stick my head in the sand. I’ll get it sorted out, I promise. Sam said he’d help.”

  “I’m sure it will be okay. Can’t you find yourself a handsome Southern gentleman to make an honest woman of you?”

  “Oh! Perhaps that’s what Sam meant! Me and Sam, can you imagine?” Nat threw her head back and laughed.

  Once again, Roxy felt a little ripple of defensiveness at the mention of Sam. “You need to get out there and mingle, girlfriend.”

  “Ugh.” Nat laughed and shuddered. “I hate that word. Mingle.”

  Roxy chuckled. “You make me laugh.”

  “Hello?” someone called from the dining room.

  Roxy hurried out to see Sylvia. “Hi there, Sylvia, good morning. How did you sleep?”

  “Great, thank you!” Sylvia said. “I feel so rested. I was just wondering if breakfast had started yet.”

  “Nope, but it can start just for you,” said Roxy, gesturing at the table. “Both Nat and I were saying how well we slept too. It sounds a little woo, but I’m wondering if it isn’t the energy of the crystals doing their thing.”

  Sylvia sat down. “It really could be. Sage certainly cut right to the chase with me!”

  “Indeed, she did,” said Roxy. “I hope the reading wasn’t too uncomfortable for you.”

  “Well, it was at the time,” said Sylvia. “But sometimes it’s good to be uncomfortable. I feel renewed and happy now.”

  Roxy smiled. “I’m so glad to hear it. Now, tell me, what would you like for breakfast? We can do just about anything you want. The full works, if you like, or beignets that are up-to-the-minute fresh.”

  “Ooh, what about bacon and eggs?” Sylvia said.

  “Coming right up!” said Roxy. “Why not have them with a New Orleans twist—eggs deviled with Cajun spice, and praline bacon?”

  “Yum. Sounds wonderful!” Sylvia said.

  Roxy dashed into the kitchen to give Nat Sylvia’s order, then came back out to chat with the influencer while she waited.

  “So how have you enjoyed your time with us so far?” Roxy said. “I know, of course, with…Dash, it’s not quite the same. But I hope you’re still getting something out of your trip.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Sylvia. “It is tragic about that young man. He was so young, with so much life to live. And I feel for Michael and Kathy and Derek so much. I’m praying for their healing.” With a sad expression, Sylvia looked down at her fingers on the tablecloth. Roxy noticed they were a little gnarled with arthritis. Sylvia lifted her head before resuming. “This is the first time I’ve been to New Orleans. While I love your hotel, especially the staff and food, I’d love to get out and see more of the city. I need to take more photos and videos for my I
nstagram account. My followers are like greedy children. They need feeding every couple of hours.”

  “How about we all take a cruise down the river? Nat and I were just talking about it. How does that sound?”

  “Fabulous,” said Sylvia, smiling. “I’m looking forward to it already.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  THE FEELING THAT everything was going to be just fine continued as everyone came down for breakfast. Lily Vashchenko glided down the staircase with a smile while Ada was a little kinder than usual. She even asked Sylvia how the previous evening had gone. Derek was, as always, extremely quiet and shy, but Kathy took care of him. She helped him order a huge breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausages, beans, rice, and French toast. Everyone marveled at how he stayed so thin.

  “We’re planning on a cruise down the Mississippi later. Is everyone up for that?” Roxy asked. They all nodded in agreement.

  “Dash loved the water,” said Kathy.

  Roxy leaned over and gave her a hug. “You sound so incredibly strong, Kathy.”

  The older woman held her head high. “Dash would have wanted me to be. I can hear his voice now. ‘Don’t worry about it, Mom!’ he’d say. He always said that. I’m trying to channel his spirit instead of being a ball of anxiety. I want to be like him, fearless and brave.”

  Later that morning, they headed out for the boat ride. Roxy called Michael at his hotel to see if he would come along, but there was no answer. A few reporters still hung around the steps outside, so a plan was hatched to avoid them. Three of them acted as decoy and went out the front door. Once they saw Nat, Sylvia, and Derek emerge from the Funky Cat, the reporters immediately ignored them and returned to distractedly scrolling endlessly on their phones while the more newsworthy quarry of Roxy, Lily, and Kathy escaped via the back. They met up on the street at the end of the alleyway. The group walked along the streets of New Orleans together in a gaggle beneath a bright sun. The sky was a wonderful, creamy blue. It was a beautiful day for a cruise.

  “Some of the best boat rides go from the French Quarter,” Nat said. “Let’s head in that direction.”

  So they did and found themselves a glorious steamer. The captain was standing around on the riverfront, looking bored. He looked as though he had been there a while, and no one was interested in what he had to offer. Monday mornings were pretty quiet.

  It was a very large boat—named Marie—and far too large for their small party. Roxy guessed 200 people could have fit onto it. But there was no one else around. Nat barreled her way to the front of their group and demonstrated to them, and the captain, her negotiating chops. They had been honed in the flea markets of New Orleans. Nat skillfully persuaded the captain to allow them to commandeer the entire boat for just a small fee so that they could leave immediately and keep their party private. Roxy knew she was getting an amazing bargain, and with a nod to Nat, produced her business credit card before the man could change his mind.

  “Where’s the bartender?” Lily asked when they got on board.

  “It’s Monday. It’s her day off,” the captain growled.

  As one, their faces fell. Their disappointment was total. They had been looking forward to their cocktails.

  “No problem! I can do it. Before Instagram came along, I supported my travels with bartending. That’s how I got started in this biz.” They all turned to look at Sylvia, a gray-haired, cargo-panted, slightly arthritic, sixty-something woman, in surprise and not a little respect. “If I can have access to the bar, I can make us all cocktails.”

  Seven pairs of eyes immediately swiveled to the steamer’s captain, and after a few moments pause during which he surveyed their eager expressions one by one as he considered Sylvia’s request, he reached for a huge bunch of keys, one of which unlocked the bar. Sylvia immediately got to work cleaning glasses and checking the stock.

  “It’s a bit early for me,” Roxy said when she saw Sylvia reach for some brandy. It was only 11 o’clock.

  “Don’t you worry, my dear, mocktails are my specialty. I’ll rustle up something delicious you’ll love.”

  Soon they were out on the open water, cocktails and mocktails in hand.

  Roxy stood nearby the captain in the pilothouse. “So, why Marie?”

  “After Marie Laveau, of course!” The boat’s captain wasn’t particularly polite and certainly not gracious. “Rough around the edges,” Nat would have called him.

  “Who’s Marie Laveau?”

  “Only the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans!” he said. “Her mausoleum is in the Saint Louis cemetery. You haven’t heard of it?” He looked at her incredulously. “People still go to her grave and ask her to grant them their wishes.”

  “Huh,” Roxy said.

  “You have to mark an X on the grave, turn around three times, then yell out your wish. If it’s granted, you’re to come back, draw a circle around the X, and leave her an offering as thanks,” the captain continued. “If you don’t, well, you know…” He raised his eyebrows as high as they would go.

  Just a few months ago, faced with a comment like that, Roxy would have felt as though she’d entered a different world. Now that she was steeped in the mysticism of the city, she didn’t blink an eye. “Oh, I’ll have to visit,” she said mildly.

  The cruise was delightful. Jazz music wafted through the speakers, making it all the more relaxing. Nat got everyone tapping their feet and swaying as she sang along to the upbeat Hit the Road, Jack and the more soulful Cry Me a River. They got wonderful views of the city as they cruised by, and Lily and Ada and Sylvia took so many pictures and videos, that Roxy marveled at the full-time job it must be to sort out which shots would make it onto their social media accounts.

  The cruise went on for a little over three hours, and thanks to Sylvia, the cocktails were colorful and became more intense (alcoholic) as the journey went on. By the time they cruised back to the dock they’d launched from, the whole party was playful and chatty. Even Derek had come out of his shell a little and was trotting up and down the top deck while his mother, frightened that he might fall in the water, told him to calm down. The group felt closer, somehow, like the water running beneath them had bonded them together.

  “Great idea you had, Nat,” Roxy said, as the boat cruised back to its dock. Roxy felt relaxed for the first time in days.

  “What?” Nat sat on a bench looking out from the side of the boat, her eyes closed, the gentle breeze from across the river making strands of her bobbed hair dance.

  “This cruise, it was a great idea. Got us all out in the fresh air. We needed it.” Roxy caught sight of a man standing on the riverside. “Oh no. Really? Now?”

  “What?” Nat repeated.

  “It’s him.”

  “Who?” Nat stood and turned. She shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked toward the dock they had left from. Standing there waiting for their return was Detective Johnson.

  Roxy disembarked first. She felt it was her duty as the owner of the hotel and organizer of the trip.

  “Come here,” Johnson ordered, as soon as she stepped off the boat. Roxy bristled. It felt like a very hard reintroduction to the reality of life on the ground after their relaxing cruise on the water. Johnson held his hand up to the others who were readying to leave the paddleboat behind Roxy. “Ms. Reinhardt only. Everyone else must wait.”

  Roxy’s heart thudded in her chest as Johnson led her away.

  “What’s wrong?” Roxy said.

  “Michael O’Sullivan was attacked last night. Beaten up and left unconscious. He was on the way back from an evening at your hotel, I understand.” Johnson looked at her. He squinted, deliberately lowering his head to study her.

  “Oh, my gosh! Is he okay?”

  “Yes, he is. He went to the hospital for some treatment and is now being monitored for a concussion, but he’ll be fine. I need all your guests to come to the station for questioning. I have squad cars standing by the curb. You need to explain to them all what’s going on.”


  “Do you…do you think it has anything to do with Dash’s death?”

  “I don’t know. Probably.”

  Roxy closed her eyes in despair. What had she gotten these people into? And which one of them was a murderer?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  IF ROXY HAD felt like a billion dollars when stepping out of the Funky Cat earlier that day, she felt like less than a dime coming back in. It was still only late afternoon, but it felt like so much time had passed, it should have been late at night. Before they left the police station, Johnson had assembled the group in the lobby. Roxy, Nat, Kathy, Derek, Sylvia, Lily, and Ada stood before him. Various expressions of anger, boredom, and exhaustion stared back at him. “Now, you are all free to go, but I will be keeping an eye on you. No one must leave the city, and,” he glared at Roxy, “no meddling, d’ya hear me?” The group nodded and, grumbling just a little, turned to trudge their way out of the station and back to the Funky Cat.

  “Well, we are certainly seeing the sights of New Orleans today,” Sylvia said cheerily. “Now we’ve seen the inside of the local police station!”

  Roxy closed her eyes momentarily. Could this Instagram promotion campaign get any worse?

  When they arrived back at the hotel, Roxy and Nat headed straight for the kitchen to make po’boy sandwiches. They were all ravenous. It was in the kitchen that they found Sage. She was wired. Roxy had come to know this was Sage’s “business” energy. When she was coding for her clients or working on the marketing for the Funky Cat, she was as sharp as a razor. She buzzed around getting things done at the speed of light. It was such a clear distinction from her usual, peaceful, floating energy and unquestionably and wordlessly telegraphed what she was doing.