The Dead Play On

by Heather Graham

  She didn’t remember. No one remembered. Because he’d been no one.

  He hadn’t known then that he was magic. He’d been invisible, always invisible even in plain sight. But Danni Cafferty...

  She hadn’t even been one of them.

  But they had wanted her. She had been beautiful even then, and courteous. Old Angus would have strung her up if she hadn’t been courteous.

  But she’d never even seen him.

  He liked to think now that it had been because of his power. Back then he hadn’t realized he was magic, that his invisibility was good, something he would need to use at the right time in his life.

  But even when she was courteous...

  She didn’t really see him. She’d never seen him. She didn’t see him now.

  She didn’t have the sax, though.

  Neither did Quinn. But there was that old skeleton who lived with them...

  That didn’t even matter. There was a slim possibility that the old Scot had the sax, though it might be difficult to discover whether he did or not. Still, there were always chances. Things to be done.

  Danni...she thought she was magic, too. Like old Angus.

  He smiled to himself. She needed to see his magic. He would have to show her.

  Oh, yes. He was, one way or another, at one time or another, going to show her.

  He’d always been in awe of her. Watching from a distance.

  But now he was going to find a way.

  He would force her to see his magic. And then he would never have to look at her again and admit that she’d never seen him, invisible or not. He didn’t know if he still coveted her and was in awe of her...

  Or if he hated her beyond all measure.

  It didn’t matter. He had to deal with her.

  He had to make sure that she saw him—and then that she never saw anything again.

  * * *

  Danni found herself relaxing onstage this time, and she enjoyed seeing Billie enjoying himself, whether he was playing a solo sax part or duetting with Tyler.

  Natasha and Father Ryan were there, just as they had promised. They seemed to be having a great time, listening to the music and talking animatedly between songs. It was almost midnight when Danni was shocked to see an elegant older woman walk into the club. It was Hattie Lamont, the socialite they’d worked with on the case concerning the Henry Hubert painting.

  Being Hattie, she was dressed to the nines. Her iron-gray hair was cut short and curved under her aged but elegant chin. She was in jeans and a ruffled blouse that was both casual and ever-so-slightly elegant. Danni was idly keeping the beat with the tambourine when Hattie walked in and looked around for a minute, and then Father Ryan rose to greet her and lead her to the table.

  Billie was in the middle of a soulful tune; his eyes were closed as he felt the music.

  Danni smiled. Billie and Hattie had not begun their relationship as friends. Now, however, the two “spent a wee bit of time together, here and there,” as Billie put it.

  When the song ended the applause was almost deafening. Tyler and the other band members bowed, accustomed to the approval of crowds. Billie blushed and did the same, and then noticed that Hattie had joined Father Ryan and Natasha, and his blush turned darker than a barrel of boiled crawfish.

  He was due to sit out a few numbers, and Danni grinned at him as he left the stage to join the others. It was fun to watch him head for the table and greet Hattie.

  During the next break she went to join them. Because the table was small, the band headed to the bar for the break.

  Billie was sitting close to Hattie, looking just a little awkward. Hattie didn’t seem to notice, but then, Hattie could manage herself in any situation.

  “Dreadful, what’s going on,” she whispered to Danni, and Danni was suddenly certain the woman had come not to see Billie but because she’d heard that Danni was playing. Apparently, Father Ryan had the same impression.

  “Anything here that I’m not seeing?” he asked Danni.

  She kept her voice low. “No, or if there is, I’m not seeing it, either. But last night the killer stole some things from Jenny and Brad’s house. Instruments and sheet music. One of the instruments was a sax. I’m sure the killer is looking for Arnie Watson’s special sax.”

  “And Tyler really has no idea of where it is?” Natasha asked.

  “Not a clue,” Danni said.

  “Strange, when you consider Tyler was his closest friend,” Father Ryan mused.

  “He mentioned that Arnie was close with one of his army friends. Kevin Hart, a guy from Houma. Unfortunately, we can’t just drive over and talk to him. He’s at Walter Reed.”

  “Injured?” Father Ryan asked.

  “Severely. He lost a leg, so he’s being fitted for a prosthesis and getting physical therapy. He’s been there six months. He rotated out with Arnie,” Danni said. “Tyler said that he’d like to see Kevin, too. Actually, he thinks the whole band should go and play for the patients. I don’t know if that’s possible, but it’s certainly one way to make the trip seem casual. But I don’t know if we need to make it casual. Although if he doesn’t believe we’re all really looking out for Arnie’s reputation, he may not talk to us.”

  Hattie waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I’ve been there many times. As you know, my late husband and I were quite fond of giving his money away. I could never see a better cause than helping those who fought for our country. If you wish to go and entertain them, just let me know.” She offered Danni a wry grin. “I know all the right people. No doubt you could find the right people yourselves, but I can speed things up for you.”

  “I don’t know,” Danni said. “I’ll have to talk to Quinn.”

  “Just let me know, dear,” Hattie said.

  Tyler called to Danni, and she headed back up onstage. When Billie came up for his next number, he definitely looked nervous. Danni loved that he cared so much now that Hattie was in the room. She whispered to him, “Just believe that it is Arnie’s special sax.”

  He gave her a smile, then played beautifully.

  The night wore on. Bit by bit, the crowd thinned, though Father Ryan, Natasha and Hattie were still hanging in. Finally Tyler announced the last song.

  The waitresses and Eric were trying hard to clean up quickly, so as soon as she was done helping the band, Danni quickly collected all the glasses her group had used and brought them up to the bar. Eric offered her a smile of gratitude. “I never mind the hours,” he told her. “But when it’s time to leave...well, it’s time to leave.”

  “I don’t blame you,” she told him, looking around. “You here alone now? I don’t see Jessica or any of the other waitresses.”

  “I always let them go as soon as I can,” he said. “See you tomorrow?”

  “I think so,” she told him.

  “But no Quinn?”

  She laughed. “Probably not—status quo for a while, I think, and then we may start sitting in somewhere else. But who knows? We aren’t real musicians, anyway.”

  He laughed. “Define real when it comes to anything in the arts,” he said. “You look and sound real enough to me up there. And your man can play a mean guitar. Your friend is really good, too.”

  “He is, isn’t he? He learned the bagpipes first—guess that explains why he’s full of hot air,” she joked. Eric grinned, and she told him good-night.

  When she returned to the table it was empty. Max had just come in, leaving his post at the door. She bade him good-night, too, and realized that Billie and the rest of her friends, along with the band, were standing outside on a litter-strewn and rapidly emptying Bourbon Street. Here and there people still laughed and walked—or staggered—along, off to get pizza or beignets, or heading back to wherever they were going to rest their heads.


  “You hungry, love?” Shamus asked.

  “Not tonight. I think I’m just going to head home. What about you all?” she asked anxiously.

  “We’re covered,” Tyler told her. “We’re going for pizza tonight, and I have my car, so we’ll eat, then I’ll drop everyone off and head on to the Watson house. What about you all? No one alone, right?”

  “We’re good,” Danni assured him. There were goodbyes all around, and then the band headed down the street in search of food.

  “All right, down to us,” Father Ryan said. “Billie is going to see Hattie home, and I’m your escort, Miss Cafferty—well, I shall be seeing you to your house, and then Natasha on to hers, where I will retrieve my car.”

  “Wonderful,” Danni said. “Except that...” She hesitated, remembering what Eric had said about Billie and how well he played.

  What if the killer had seen Billie play and thought the same thing? Would he have thought Billie was so good that he just might have been playing a very special sax?

  “You be careful,” Billie told Danni.

  “I’m with a man of God and a priestess for the universe,” she said. “I’ll be fine. But Billie, I don’t like this. I say we all walk to my house, I’ll get the car, and we’ll get Hattie home.”

  “But Danni dear, it’s a matter of only a few blocks to my home,” Hattie protested. “I got here all on my own, you know.”

  “Honestly, Hattie, at this moment I think you might be fine other than bumping into a run-of-the-mill mugger—which would be bad, too, of course. But Billie has been playing with the band.”

  “First time ever on a stage here, Danni, so who’d be after me?” he asked.

  “I’d rather not find out because he attacks you,” Danni told him.

  Billie let out a deep sigh and wagged a finger at her. “This from the one who took off like a bat out of hell just last night!”

  Father Ryan lifted a hand and looked toward the night sky. “Lord and Mother Mary, help me. Both of you listen to me. We will all walk Danni home. Then Natasha. Then we get in my car, and Billie and I drop Hattie off, and then I drop Billie and head on home.” He looked firmly at each of them in turn. “And there will be no arguments.”

  There were none.

  Billie and Hattie took the lead. Behind them, Danni walked between Father Ryan and Natasha.

  As they walked, Father Ryan asked Danni, “What’s your feeling on this case? You and Quinn would know... Are we looking at greed and obsession or cold-blooded murder? Or is there really something...special about that instrument?”

  “I don’t know, Father. I tried to find something relevant in the book my father left me, but...I just don’t know.”

  “Can it be one person? Just one person doing this?” Natasha asked. “I keep my eyes and ears open, both to those I know and those who come for readings. And all I’ve heard so far is fear.”

  “Just one person can cause nations to fall, remember,” Father Ryan said. “And the police can hardly go door-to-door demanding to know if someone owns a Mardi Gras mask and a trench coat—and if they’ve been brutally murdering musicians.”

  “That person might have killed Jenny last night,” Danni said. “But now, of course, she’ll never be without Brad—and they’re both staying at my place for now.”

  “Evil is such an elusive quality,” Father Ryan said thoughtfully. “And I can’t say I begin to understand it. Some say that it can and does reside in inanimate objects, and we’ve seen how a malignant soul can linger on. People believe in residual hauntings, when, say, a Civil War soldier fights the same battle over and over again. But no matter how you slice it, the earth itself isn’t evil, and neither is the sky or the sea. Evil always begins and ends with man.”

  “Amen, Father,” Natasha said quietly.

  They’d reached Danni’s house; Quinn’s car wasn’t back yet.

  “Guess I beat him home,” Danni said.

  “So we’ll see you in, check everything out and make sure Wolf is on duty,” Natasha said.

  Wolf was indeed on duty. He was waiting by the courtyard door, and wagged his tail and wriggled his massive body as he greeted Danni and said hello to the others. Bo Ray, bare-chested with his jeans thrown on, came down the stairs to meet them. He seemed happy to see everyone, but it was obvious that the noise they’d made had awakened him. He was especially pleased to see Hattie, whom he hadn’t seen in a while.

  After a few minutes’ conversation, Billie sighed and pointed out the hour.

  “Everything fine here?” Father Ryan asked Bo Ray.

  “Yep. Fine. I fell asleep about two, but there’s nothing going on here. And I’d know, because Wolf would let me know, and he hasn’t made a peep,” Bo Ray assured them.

  “Then we’ll lock you two and Wolf in,” Billie said. “I’m going with the good Father to see Hattie home.”

  “Okay,” Bo Ray said, grinning knowingly.

  Billie looked away, blushing. Hattie gave Bo Ray a tap on the arm. “Behave, young man. They’re all just very politely seeing an old lady home.”

  “You’ll never be old, Hattie,” Danni told her.

  “Of course not. She’s way too mean,” Father Ryan teased.

  “What was it you said earlier, Father? Lord and Mother Mary, help me,” Hattie said, rolling her eyes. “Let’s move it now, children.”

  “Anything new?” Bo Ray asked Danni anxiously after the others had left.

  She shook her head. “No. Earlier today Tyler mentioned another old friend of Arnie’s, and I’m curious if that’s something we should pursue. He’s an army vet, wounded and still at Walter Reed. Maybe he knows something about the sax. I have to talk to Quinn first, though. And speaking of Quinn, have you heard from him?”

  Bo Ray nodded. “Oh, yeah. I left you a note on your bedroom door. He said not to worry if he came in a bit after you, said they were stopping by Jenny and Brad’s place to pick up a few things.”

  “That’s fine. Everyone wants their own things. I’m not sure I can wait up for Quinn, though. I’m beat.”

  “I know just how you feel,” Bo Ray said. “I’m going back to bed, since I have a feeling I’ll be the one keeping The Cheshire Cat going for the next...whatever. Night, Danni.”

  “Night, Bo Ray.”

  It was still dark out, not quite 5:00 a.m., and Danni decided to give staying up a little longer a try. She made herself a cup of tea and laced it with milk and sugar—“comfort food,” as her father had called it—and sat down at the table.

  But after she nearly fell asleep with her face in her teacup, she gave Wolf a dog treat and told him, “Say hi to Quinn for me. I’m out.”

  Wolf barked. She would swear the dog understood her words. As she headed for the stairs, Wolf circled a few times and then lay down in front of the courtyard door.

  Up in her room, Danni shimmied out of the dress she had worn and into a long sleep T. She lay down on the bed, tired in every pore of her body.

  But she kept thinking about Father Ryan’s words, wondering whether evil really could reside in objects, in buildings, even in the air.

  Her eyes began to close as she lay there. Just when she was beginning to drift off, she heard Wolf begin to bark.

  At first the noise was just irritating. In her still half-asleep stage, she figured Quinn had gotten home and the dog was happy to see him.

  But then she jumped out of bed. That wasn’t Wolf’s ecstatic Quinn-was-home bark. It was one of his warning barks.

  She heard the dog bounding up the stairs; he was coming to stand guard over her, she knew.

  When she opened the bedroom door she heard Bo Ray hurrying down from the attic. Obviously he had heard the dog, too. Wolf reached her side and barked with new fervor then bounded back down the stairs to the courtyard entrance.


  “What is it?” Bo Ray asked tensely.

  “I don’t know. Wolf doesn’t like something.”

  “You got a gun, right?”

  “In the drawer by the bed.”

  “Get it,” he said.

  Danni did. She hated guns, but Quinn had taught her how to shoot, and she had a Glock 19 he had gotten her just a few months back.

  She paused in her room, walking over to the window and looking out to the street.

  There was someone staring at her house. Someone wearing a trench coat and who had what appeared to be a wild shock of dark hair.

  And no face.

  * * *

  “We really do need to move back home, Jenny,” Brad told her as Quinn drove. Jenny was in the front, and she lowered her head slightly. Brad, in the back, couldn’t see her expression, but Quinn could.

  It was clear to him that the last thing Jenny wanted at the moment was to go home, away from the protection of Danni’s house and everyone there. Back to the scene of her terrifying close encounter with a killer.

  “Soon, Brad,” Quinn told him. “But not yet. Things are still too dangerous at the moment.”

  “I don’t think he’s coming back to our house,” Brad said. “He already took what he wanted. He can’t possibly be afraid that Jenny would identify him, because no one can identify him. Quinn, you know how much I appreciate what you and Danni are doing for us, but...I have a gun, you know.”

  Quinn was sure Brad was hurt that Jenny didn’t believe he could defend her. He wasn’t an idiot; he wouldn’t push things to the point that might get her hurt, all for the sake of his pride. But he also had logic on his side.

  Quinn didn’t think the killer would head back to Brad and Jenny’s house. He would move on to another musician—and another saxophone.

  “For Danni’s peace of mind,” he said, knowing that Danni wouldn’t care in the least what ploy he used to keep their friends safe, “it would be great if you would stay with us a few more days. I know she feels much safer with you two in the house.”

  “Brad, please, for Danni,” Jenny said quietly.