by G A Chase
“Shit! I have to go.” Kendell broke free of his embrace, untangled herself from the dog’s lead, and started running down the wharf.
“Kendell! What the hell?” He started chasing her down the old wooden planks, trying to keep hold of Cheesecake’s tether.
As she ran, she shed her heavy peacoat. “Take care of Cheesecake! You’re my salvation! The band needs my help. My girls are in trouble. I love you!”
In disbelief, he watched his friend jump from a gangway onto the passing paddle-wheeler steamboat. With the leash of her elderly overweight dog in his hand, he had no way of following her. As the boat pulled out into the Mississippi river, he heard the refrain of ABBA’s “SOS” from the calliope. In the playful sounds of the carnival-like steam-powered organ, he could make out the hard-driving beat of Lynn Seed at the keyboard. Why Kendell’s band, Polly Urethane and the Strippers, would be in trouble aboard the tourist boat was a mystery. But as he watched the ship churning up water, he knew there must be a problem. By tradition, music from the calliope only played while the ship was in port, not when it was underway.
He looked down at the pup, who was barking her fool head off at the receding boat. “It’s okay, girl. We’ll get her back.” But without knowing what new danger Kendell had just jumped into, he struggled with where to turn next. The shaggy Lhasa apso might not be his most helpful ally, but she would be the fiercest.
As the steamship headed toward the big, easy bend of the river, he knew who would be his closest support—provided Professor Yates’s psychometry research laboratory hadn’t fallen off the rotting pilings into the river. Retrieving Kendell’s coat, Myles found her keys in the pocket. Unfortunately, he also found her cell phone. Contacting her would be impossible.
He threw her coat over his shoulder and bent down to look the dog in the eyes. “I know you don’t like being picked up by anyone other than Kendell. I’d just like to remind you that I did help rescue you. You’re going to have to trust me just a little bit.”
As he wrapped his arms around the dog’s thick, curly coat, she began her low-pitched growl of disapproval.
“We don’t have time for this, girl.” Before she could revert to her wolf-ancestor persona, he whisked her up in his arms and headed for the bright-yellow scooter Kendell had parked near the restaurant. The dog continued to growl, but increasingly, Myles suspected that was more from the discomfort of his running than her anger at being so unceremoniously manhandled. “I’ll drop you off at home first. You’ll be relaxing in the sun in no time. Just work with me for a little while, then I’ll go do what I can for Kendell.”
* * *
Kendell launched herself off the wooden pier and stretched out her arms to grasp the brass railing of the passing riverboat. The water below her kicked up spray as the ship turned away from the levee. She scampered to find a foothold against the slippery steel hull. In her short spring dress, she felt all too vulnerable as the twenty-five-foot red paddle wheel tossed gallons of water over her head. At least she was wearing her tennis shoes. I didn’t dress for this kind of action. Not that she could have anticipated the uncomfortable lunch where she introduced her mother to Myles progressing to a passionate display of affection followed by a rescue attempt. How was a girl supposed to dress for an afternoon like that?
Her band had been invited on the afternoon cruise by their fellow performers at the Scratchy Dog—a group called the Mutants at Table Nine. Of course, she’d declined. Even if she hadn’t had a date with Myles and her mother, hanging out with a group of nerdy guys could too easily be interpreted as her being available. Their relationship was complicated enough.
She squirmed under the lower railing and onto the mercifully horizontal deck. She was soaked to the bone, but she’d made it aboard. As she lay there wondering what her first move should be, a shadow passed over her closed eyes. The hand that clasped over her mouth caused her to struggle but only until she saw it was Lynn Seed, who motioned for her to stay quiet.
Lynn, whom Kendell usually saw hiding behind her keyboards on stage, pointed toward the engine room. “We need to get out of sight. I’ll explain everything once we’re safe.”
Kendell’s ears hurt from the noise of the boilers, engines, and paddle wheel being driven by the monstrous connecting shafts. She searched the small room filled with menacing machinery. Somewhere, there had to be people operating the antique equipment. To her surprise, there was no one sitting at the bank of gauges and levers.
Lynn pointed toward the narrow hallway that led to the front of the ship. “He’s working on the boilers. We can sneak through the workers’ passage to the office upstairs. We should be safe there for a little while. They’ve only got the one guy working down here, so he’s being kept pretty busy.”
The nicely preserved engine room had signs warning tourists to keep their hands away from the equipment. The condition of the paint-chipped steel staircase and grungy office, however, contrasted sharply with the well-kept antique machinery in the next room. Kendell nearly bolted for the stairs on seeing the back of a tall, lanky redheaded dude rummaging through the ship’s plans in the small office.
Lynn pushed Kendell through the oblong opening. “Don’t worry. That’s Lars. He plays keyboards for the Mutants at Table Nine.”
The room barely accommodated all three of them. It felt even more cramped as Lynn pulled the hatch closed behind her.
Kendell would have worried about the water that dripped off her giving away their location if the whole deck weren’t already covered in puddles. “Maybe you’d better tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t know. While everyone was having lunch, Lars and I snuck away to check out the boat.” The way Lynn blushed left Kendell assuming their search had mostly to do with finding a quiet place to make out. “We heard a commotion from the dining room. When we peeked back in, we saw everyone tied to chairs and some heavy thug with a gun. That’s when we hustled back up top and started playing for help on the calliope. I knew you were close by and would figure out my desperate plea.”
Lars never did talk much, and when he did, he seldom made eye contact. Other than his lanky build and expertise on the keyboards, Kendell had no idea what Lynn saw in him.
“It’s our fault,” Lars said. “The guy said he was a fan. He’d heard the joint jam session and wanted to show his gratitude.”
People who couldn’t adequately express themselves bugged Kendell no end. “What are you talking about?”
His look of exasperation didn’t help his cause. “He gave us the tickets.”
Kendell turned back to Lynn. “Did you recognize anyone during the cruise?”
But apparently Lars wasn’t finished. “What did I just say? The guy with the gun was the dude who gave us the tickets.”
“He didn’t happen to give you his name, did he?” Kendell considered slapping the answer out of his mouth.
“Stone, Boulder, something. I don’t remember.”
She began to wonder how much pot smoking had been going on. The guy was clearly high.
Lynn turned to him. “Did it sound like rock? Laroque maybe?”
“Sounds right. I didn’t hear him very well. You know how it is after a gig.”
Kendell closed her eyes at her own stupidity. Abducting the band was just a way for the powerful family to get their hands on her. But which faction of the recipients of the baron Malveaux’s curse was to blame?
The options were almost too complex for her to pin down. The powerful members who were making a play for national office would want her for protection against the curse. They might even think it possible she could break the spell. Those trying to unseat the leading edge of the dynasty, however, would be looking to her to carry out the evil originally commissioned by her forefather. Then there were those like Lance, who only wanted his fair share of the family’s prestige and wasn’t above causing a bit of fuss to ensure he was heard.
“They’re not going to hurt anyone,” Kendell said. “Bad press is one
thing that family can’t stomach. They’ve made the first move, but they don’t know I’m on board.”
Lynn pointed at the ship’s diagram. “There are four assholes holding our friends here in the dining hall. We only saw the one guy running the engines and the captain up top on the bridge. I don’t think either of them is in on the kidnapping as the captain let me play the calliope. He could have turned us in. So what’s our move?”
Kendell didn’t like what she was thinking, but she didn’t see a choice. “I know it’s asking a lot. I need you two to allow yourselves to be captured. They’ll keep searching the boat until they find you. Once you’re back with the bands, you can let them know I’m working on their rescue. We need to find out what these guys are up to. They can’t keep y’all on this boat forever, so I’m guessing they’ve got a destination downriver for you.”
Lars’s eyes were clearing from their fog as he got into the intrigue. “Then you’ll go get the cops?”
If only it were that easy. Kendell still didn’t know if Chief of Police Gerald Laroque was an honest cop or keeping all opposition to the family in check. After all, New Orleans wasn’t known for its upstanding law enforcement. “Once I know where they’re holding you, I’ll find Myles. We have some allies the Laroque family doesn’t know about as well as some other potential items from the baron that might prove useful as bargaining chips.” But would retrieving more cursed items play right into the hands of those looking to capitalize on the family’s dark past? Kendell knew she’d never needed Myles’s help more.
She didn’t want to leave her friends. Having others around provided a small sense of safety, but she needed the kidnappers to feel they had control so they would start discussing their plans. All she had to do was find a hiding place somewhere within listening distance to where they would be conducting their private meeting. Right, that should be simple.
Before she could locate a suitable location, she needed to be sure no one else would be prowling the decks. That meant the two lovers would need to be found first. Kendell squeezed on top of the life-preserver cabinet that ran along the passageway. Her small body was easily hidden against the bulkhead, but just to be sure, she peeked over the edge. Lynn gave her a thumbs-up before returning to her boyfriend in the engineer’s office.
Waiting for Lynn and Lars to be discovered was agony. How could the search party be so dense? Of course, the couple had snuck off to make out. A small office, pantry, or alcove would make the most sense. As she heard the two men poking around the ship’s bilge, she wondered if they thought the band members were international spies and not lusty youths.
The conversation with the haggard engineer came across loud and clear once he shut down the engines. “This isn’t how things are done on a steamboat. These engines are from the 1920s. You don’t just push a button and start them up. And without propulsion, we could drift into a sandbar. The captain’s going to hear about this.”
“You can have control back as soon as we’ve finished our search. I’m not losing a hand down here. Haven’t you heard of safety equipment?”
The ship worker wasn’t backing down. Kendell added him to the small list of people who might be willing to help. “Look, Bubba, get your hands off my equipment or grab a life vest. Because if you don’t let me restart these engines, you’re going over the edge one way or another.”
“For a scrawny fellow, you’ve got a lot of grit. We’ll be done in a couple of minutes. There are two kids hiding somewhere on this ship. Once we’re done down here, you won’t have to worry about us again.”
Hatches banged as they were opened and shut, and tools hammered against metal as if someone were trying to drive a rat out of its hole. Kendell was glad she hadn’t chosen that area for hiding. She squeezed even deeper into the gap between the cabinet and the ceiling. With every passageway lined with ducts and conduits, hopefully she’d be as unnoticed as the heavily painted pipes and valves.
A loud blast from the ship’s steam whistle preceded the clamor of the engines starting back up. The sound of heavy boots on the metal stairs made Kendell hold her breath. “One deck down, two to go. I can’t believe they’d be so stupid as to hide in an office, but the boss says to check everything.”
The screeching of the hatch opening was drowned out by Lynn’s scream. “Close the door, pervert! Can’t you see we’re busy in here?”
“Put your pants on. We’re not here for the peep show. You two need to join the others on the main deck.”
The footsteps on the metal passageway below Kendell receded. From somewhere down the hallway, a hatch opened then closed again. She checked her vintage Swiss army watch. With her heart beating so fast she could feel the pulsing in her fingers, she was tempted to jump down and sneak forward, but she needed to be sure they wouldn’t come back and continue the search just to be thorough. As the minutes ticked by, she resisted the urge to hum a tune to calm her nerves. Being completely quiet for five minutes didn’t come naturally to her.
The instant the second hand crossed twelve for the fifth time, she began working her way out of the tight space. Her soggy dress caught on the sharp edge of a metal support, tearing the hem. As quietly as possible, she lowered herself down to the deck. All the effort she’d put into looking as cute as possible for Myles while still not giving away her romantic interest to her mother seemed a distant memory. She looked at the rags that had been the dress she’d taken so long to choose. I knew I should have stuck with jeans.
Instead of heading in the direction the thugs had taken her friends, Kendell snuck down the stairs back to the engine room. The lure of hearing what the kidnappers had in mind had to be balanced against her need to remain undetected. With any luck, the engineer would still be busy getting the massive paddle wheel back up to speed.
The small number of people aboard worked in her favor. Everyone would have to be inside, guarding her friends. Outside, she had more options. Fore and aft staircases extended to all three levels of the ship. The breeze blew her wet dress against her body, making her feel even more exposed. Desperately, she wished Myles were there to help, but she was also grateful for having him on shore as her backup plan.
From the deck, she could see they’d steamed far downstream. The historic houses and wharfs of New Orleans had given way to bayous, oil refineries, and fishing villages. People out here were wary of strangers and kept to themselves. They weren’t the type to offer help, even to a drenched young woman. If she or the bands were to escape, they’d likely be killed by alligators—or worse. She lifted the cover off a lifeboat and slipped inside. It might not be the cleverest of hiding places, but so long as no one was searching for her, it would be fairly versatile.
After what she estimated to be an hour out of New Orleans, the steamship gave a small toot of its whistle and slowed to a gentle paddle. Lifting the cover a couple of inches, Kendell saw a dock barely large enough to accommodate the tourist ship. As they nudged alongside it, she wondered why the gentle impact didn’t crumple the rotting pilings.
She ducked back deep into the lifeboat as she heard voices from the deck above. “We’ve got a nice little warehouse for you folks. During the season, alligator hunters use it for selling their catch. Some of those gators linger around when they know it’s safe, so it’d be best if you didn’t try to escape.”
She recognized Polly’s voice of defiance. “How long do you intend to keep us as prisoners?”
“Not a moment longer than necessary. Once your friend does what we want, we’ll provide you a nice dinner cruise home. Just pray she doesn’t try anything stupid. I’d hate to have to hurt one of you to teach her a lesson.”
21
Myles stood out front of the tattered warehouse, staring downriver. Somewhere around the bend, Kendell was facing danger alone. Her telling him she loved him only compounded his frustration at not being with her.
“What’s up?”
Myles turned to see Professor Yates standing at the entrance of his improvised laborat
ory. As always, he looked as though he’d just woken up from a nap.
“Kendell’s in danger, and I need your help.” He proceeded to relay what little he knew.
“Why me?”
“You may be one of the only people in New Orleans who accepts my powers of psychometry. You also know better than anyone about Kendell’s connection to the Malveaux curse.”
The man wore the outfit he used to con tourists into psychic readings in the Quarter. It made him resemble a steampunk version of Dracula. He used his fingers to comb his gray hair away from his eyes. “You think this has something to do with the curse?”
“How could it not? Someone went to a lot of work and spent a sizable amount of money getting the band onto the riverboat. I’ve heard them play. They’re fun but not worth that much effort. I can’t come up with another explanation of why they would have been kidnapped other than to influence Kendell.”
The lab that occupied the run-down office wasn’t Myles’s idea of welcoming, but the fact that the professor hadn’t invited him in was confusing. Voodoo and curses weren’t topics to discuss out in the open. “Well, we can’t chase after them. If you’re right, whoever’s behind this will probably be on the lookout for another of the baron’s old possessions. There’s still a few hours until dusk, which is when business really picks up for me. I think it’s time we had a longer talk with Madam de Galpion.”
Though Myles had questions for the proprietor of Scratch and Sniff perfumery, he wasn’t sure more talking was going to help Kendell. “Do you think she can help?”
“We kept some information from you two the last time you were in her shop. Partly, that was for your protection, but if the Laroque family is intent on using Kendell, it would be better if you had the full story.”
