by Karen Anders
“Christien, this is our bust. We worked on this case together—a lot—and we lost it. I know I want another crack at this guy.”
“And you deserve it. I’m not a cop anymore. And I’m not coming back.” Christien pushed away from the desk and rose. “I’ve got my own cases I need to get to.”
“You’re a cop down to your cells, man,” Jim said.
Jim’s words didn’t penetrate. Christien knew the score. He’d screwed up in a major way and, as a result, a killer had been set free.
“Christien, don’t throw your career away.”
Christien turned. “That dirtbag wants a public apology. I’m not giving it to him. That leaves me out, since the brass won’t reinstate me until I apologize.”
If he stood here any longer, he was afraid all the pent-up frustration of the past few months would come spewing out in an ugly vitriol.
Gritting his teeth, guilt and anguish running through him, Christien said, “Get him, Jim, so he doesn’t do this again. Make it stick this time.”
“Christien.”
“Let it go, Jim.” Their gazes locked and his friend managed to convey both calm and sympathy in his eyes. Christien looked away.
“Good luck,” Christien said as he turned and left, looking neither right nor left.
Badly shaken by the disturbing feelings Jim’s words had evoked, Christien rested his forehead against the steering wheel.
He had never been good at facing ghosts because he had never wanted to look back—looking back meant dealing with all that fear and hurt and shame. Looking back made it seem that he was searching for forgiveness.
He didn’t think that was possible.
Then or now.
9
AS SOON AS TALLY GOT off WORK, she pulled the paper Perry had given her out of the pocket of her jeans. Looking at it to get her bearings, she started off for the New Age shop. It was only early in the evening.
After walking for a few blocks, Tally passed the New Orleans Museum of History. Deciding to take a quick detour, she went inside and walked through many exhibits, one featuring Jean Lafitte. It would be the perfect place for an exhibit featuring Captain Dampier, maybe even combine it with the Lafitte one. On her way out, Tally picked up a brochure to read through later.
The French Quarter, only one half mile by three-quarters, bustled with activity around the clock. The old worldness of the second-and third-story terraces felt intimate to Tally as she walked down the narrow, crowded streets. Nothing in the oldest part of New Orleans was polished, shiny or new-looking; instead, it had a naughty charm.
She passed bars, nightclubs, adult shops, gift shops and restaurants dominating the neon-bathed street. Recorded music blared from the shops and clubs. New Orleans residents went about their daily lives among the tourists who came for the vibrant carnival atmosphere, unusual shopping and overall mystique.
Finally, she reached Perry’s aunt’s shop. Sugar Blues was printed on a big, round blue crystal that served as the shop’s sign. It was a three-story building graced with two balconies facing Chartres Street. Tally went through the blue squeaky door into the bright interior.
Burning candles and a strong aroma of incense permeated the air. A sign on the wall offered palm, tarot and psychic readings. The walls were covered with shelves sporting teapots, cups and a large selection of fine teas.
On a nearby table were metaphysical items, esoteric books, rare crystals and handmade gifts. A glass case held many items of jewelry.
On other tables scattered around the shop, Tally browsed through polished stones, rune sets, essential oils, herbs and a variety of candle choices.
Her neighbor Perry moved through the beaded alcove at the back of the shop and smiled when she saw Tally. “You made it.”
“I can’t go back home until I have a charm, something to ward off evil.”
“She’s not evil,” said a voice. “She’s angry and vengeful, but not evil.” When the owner of the voice came into view, Tally was taken aback. A woman in her late twenties stood before her. She was of medium height and weight, but she seemed to fill up the room, exuding a calmness that settled over Tally.
She seemed so young to have such a wise voice. With her dark, straight hair that flowed down to her waist, her elegant nose and the high cheekbones, Tally would have pegged her as full-blooded Native American, but her piercing blue eyes spoke of a mixed ancestry. Dressed in a black cotton blouse tucked into a colorful slim cotton skirt, this woman didn’t look like any psychic Tally had ever seen. Perry’s psychic friend? “Kachina Leaping Water, I presume?”
“I am and I can see that you are very much in need of help, but I am afraid that charm won’t be effective.”
Tally’s heart sank. “Why not?”
“A saint medallion won’t help. As I said, she’s not evil.”
“She cracked my mirror and spoke in a really scary voice.”
“Theatrics, as I am sure you already suspect.”
“Then another kind of charm that protects me against ghosts.”
Kachina studied her with those intense blue eyes, eyes that seemed to glow from within. “Do you really want to ward off the other ghost? I think not.”
“You’re right I don’t want to ward him off. I need to speak with him.”
“Then, I’m afraid that I can’t help you,” Kachina said, her eyes full of regret.
“Please don’t tell anyone about this. One ‘crazy’ person in our family is enough,” blurted Tally.
“You’re searching for something,” Kachina said, approaching her. “May I?” she asked, reaching for Tally’s hand, her colorful wooden bracelets clacking against each other.
Tally shifted, instantly uncomfortable. “I’d also rather not talk about that.”
“Even if I have information that might help you?” Kachina replied, her hand suspended, waiting for Tally’s permission.
“You do?” Tally had come here for help. She extended her hand toward Kachina.
Kachina took her hand in hers, her skin soft and warm. She pressed Tally’s fingers open, gazing down at Tally’s palm. “When it comes time for the choice, you’ll have a difficult decision to make. Choose wisely because more than one life is at stake. Don’t be afraid to make the right one.”
“How can that information help me?”
Kachina folded Tally’s fingers over her palm and squeezed. “You will understand at the right time.”
Tally looked at her neighbor. “Thanks anyway for trying, Perry.”
“I wish we could have done more, Tally.”
“Perry, could you go back and finish up that inventory of crystals for me?”
“Sure, Kachina. Bye, Tally.”
Tally turned to go, but Kachina Leaping Water took hold of her arm.
“Your mother’s absence had nothing to do with you, Tally.”
“What?” Tally said, surprised.
“Make peace with yourself. Forgive her and move on with your life.”
“I am moving on.”
“Sometimes we are very good at tricking ourselves into thinking things are true because we say they’re so. Most of the time, they’re not.”
Tally extricated her hand from Kachina’s and stepped back. “Look I’ve got to go.”
Outside the shop, Tally took a deep breath and headed back toward her town house. A shiver shot down her spine and she threw a look over her shoulder only to see Kachina standing in the doorway.
TALLY KNOCKED ON BREE’S DOOR. When her sister called out to enter, Tally found her in the kitchen. “I need to borrow a dress for tonight.”
Bree wiped her hands on a dish towel. “You singing at The Blue Note?”
Tally opened her sister’s cookie jar and snagged a chocolate chip cookie. “Yes, can you help me out?” She tipped the jar to offer one to her sister.
Bree thought for a moment and grabbed for a cookie. Her eyes lit up. “I have the gold spangle that’s got the right flair for the Blue Note.”
&nbs
p; Tally polished off her cookie. “The Prada-shoes dress. Perfect.”
Bree led her sister up to her bedroom and went to her closet and took out the dress, bending down for the shoes.
“Wow, I forgot how gorgeous those shoes are.”
“I saved up a long time for them. I wanted something really spectacular to go with this dress I made. I’m getting pretty good at sewing. This moonlighting with designer Toni Maxwell is paying off.”
“Do you resent her?” The words came out of Tally’s mouth before she could stop herself.
“Who? Toni?”
“Mom. Do you resent her for leaving us alone without support? For leaving Mark. God, he was only fourteen.”
“A little. I wonder if I would have followed through and become a lawyer.”
“I don’t resent her.”
“What? Why?”
“I hate her.”
Bree’s eyes widened. “Tally, you can’t mean that.”
“She ruined everything, Bree. I had a full scholarship and I wanted my marketing degree very badly. I certainly didn’t want to become a waitress and lounge singer.”
The floodgates were finally open; Tally let everything pour out of her. “I want more, Bree. I’ve always wanted more. From the time I watched her throw good money after bad. I didn’t want to end up like that. I vowed I wouldn’t be broke and pathetic.”
“Oh, Tally.”
“She left us, Bree. Knowing what would happen, she left us without a word. Without notice. I can’t forgive her for that.”
Her sister dropped the shoes and the dress. Bree put her arms around Tally and hugged tight.
“It’s doesn’t matter. We still have each other. All of us.”
“If Mark comes back,” Tally whispered. “What if he doesn’t come back?”
“He will. I’m sure of it.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
BACK INSIDE HER TOWN HOUSE, Tally finished dressing, put up her hair and applied her makeup wondering at the psychic’s words. How could the woman know so much about her inner workings when Tally had missed what had been buried so deep in her heart?
Did she really hate her mother?
Even as she thought it, she knew it was true. She left her room and hurried down the stairs.
“Tally?”
The captain made a popping noise as he appeared in front of her. No matter how many times he did that, it startled her every time. She jumped.
“Can I ask you a question?” Tally asked.
“As long as it’s not the one women always ask men, ‘Do I look fat in this dress?’ Because even though I’m two hundred years old, I’m still too smart to answer that one.”
Tally laughed. “No, it’s not that. Who was the old woman in my mirror?”
“The woman who cursed me.”
“Why is she so angry?”
“She’s the grandmother of the woman I seduced and begot twins.”
“Why is she mad at me?”
“I do not know. You will have to ask her.”
“I don’t particularly want to talk to her.”
“I cannot fault you. She was the one who turned over your furniture.”
“Really. Why?”
“She was trying to distract you from your beau…ah, lover.”
“Did she cause the other interruptions? Is she haunting my sister, too?”
“No doubt.”
“Well, she should relax because the lover’s only temporary. You hear that, Grandmother? He’s only temporary.”
“Why do you say that? It seems like you enjoy his company.”
“I like directing my own life. I only hired him to help me search for my brother and get the map back.”
“Love doesn’t force you to give up your independence, it changes to interdependence.”
“Who said anything about love? I don’t believe in love and fairy-tale endings. That bunk is for suckers.”
“Is it? How about your neighbor Madame Alain. She and her husband were very happy here. I should know. I used to see them walking the court hand in hand, every day, until death did part them.”
“Love isn’t for me, Captain.”
“I thought I told you to call me Gabriel.”
“You did. Sorry. I went to a museum today to check it out and see if it would be a good place to set up your exhibition.”
“That is capital.”
“I haven’t talked to the curator yet, but I’ll do that soon. In fact, I’m going to start cataloging the contents of the attic on my day off—tomorrow.”
“I will help in any way I can.”
FINISHED FOR THE NIGHT, Tally exited her dressing room in the back of the Blue Note. She met Chuck, the owner, in the hallway.
“I wanted to talk to you before you left,” he said.
“About what?” Tally asked.
“I’ve had a very good offer on the Note.”
“Are you accepting it?”
“I’m afraid I’ll need yours right away.”
“Can you give me another two days, Chuck? Please. That would be just shy of the two weeks you promised me.”
“I’ll give you by close of business two days from now. I’m sorry that I can’t wait any longer, my daughter needs me.”
Tally stood in the hallway a few minutes longer, cursing her luck. This was all Mark’s fault for being so juvenile and petty.
She felt sick inside thinking that he might have lost the piece of paper detailing the whereabouts of the captain’s treasure. She loved her brother but he was letting her down without even knowing it. She had to find him.
She couldn’t really depend on anyone, a lesson she’d learned over and over again.
Then she came out into the restaurant to find Christien waiting for her. Everything inside her went hot and she thought she was going to have to amend that statement. She could depend on Christien, but she didn’t want to. It hurt too much to lose that support.
Breathtakingly gorgeous and sinfully sexy, he strolled over, brushing at the loose strands of his hair. Christien usually wore it back, but tonight the silky strands were loose around his face. The private greeting in his eyes started a slow sensation in the pit of her belly.
“Where you at, chère?” he murmured, his tone as warm and intimate as the genuine affection glimmering in his eyes.
Every nerve ending zinged as she responded to the delicious smell of him by breathing deeply. “Nowhere.” The word slipped out sounding tortured even to her ears.
His smile faded and he studied her. “That doesn’t sound good. What’s wrong?”
The urge to tell him was so overpowering she had to clench her teeth to hold back. No. She couldn’t let herself depend on him for anything except finding her brother. She would not let herself be sucked into a relationship that could cause her so much heartache. In her world, people, even the ones she loved, let her down. With anguish, she realized that was true. She depended on him and she hated the thought of it. Better she step back and keep all her secrets to herself.
“I’ve had a frustrating day, that’s all.”
Christien stared at her with those intelligent eyes of his that seemed to reach deep into her soul and tug on emotions she’d spent years keeping under wraps.
She grew uncomfortable beneath his penetrating gaze and wondered if he could sense her internal guilt—her duplicity.
She looked away and inhaled a deep, calming breath.
“I thought you said you trusted me?”
She winced at the guilt that roiled inside her. “I do. But I can take care of myself, Christien. What I need you to do is find my brother.”
He backed her up out of the milling patrons into the hallway behind the stage.
“You know something, chère, I’m not doing this for the money or because it’s my job. I’m doing this for you.”
His palm cupped her jaw, warm and, damn him, but so reassuring. And his nearness, the length of his body pressed against hers in the dim hall all put
a sensual spin on what was a comforting gesture. To distract herself from her emotions, she deliberately leaned forward and put her mouth on his. Her pulse fluttered in her throat as she vividly remembered the exquisite feel of those fingers stroking over her body, petting her. The way they’d slipped deep inside her sex and set her on fire.
Christien pulled away, staring deep into her eyes. “Is that your way of telling me to mind my own business?”
“I was kissing you, Christien.”
“You were distracting me, again.”
“Please don’t push me tonight,” she pleaded, knowing that she was weak, so weak where this man was concerned. If he pushed, even a tiny bit, she was going to spill her guts and get in too deep. It was only going to make it harder for her to end it later. And end it she would.
“You tie me up in knots, Tally,” he said pressing his forehead against hers.
And once again, he didn’t let her down. He backed off and gave her the space she needed to pull all those crazy needs and deep-seated emotions back.
“I’ve got some good news for you,” he said.
“I can sure use some.”
“I checked your brother’s bank account too soon. He was still in town when you hired me. We must have missed him at his apartment.”
Tally groaned. If only the timing had been right. “What did you find out?”
“He took five hundred dollars out of his account the day after you hired me. Nothing’s changed about your brother’s whereabouts. He’s still AWOL,” he went on unaware of her relief. “Other than what I’ve told you, I’m at a dead end with Mark. The rest of this case hinges on finding out what the band knows. Let’s hope they can give us the information we’re looking for.”
She nodded, knowing he was right.
TALLY SAT AT A TABLE in a small hole in the wall on Bourbon Street. The revelers were out in force tonight getting a head start on the drinking. Christien was talking to the lead singer of the Calendar Boys, the band who supposedly knew where Mark could have gone.
She could see how they got their name. Every single male, from the drummer to the lead singer, was drop-dead gorgeous.
