Penny put her long hand on Griffen’s and leaned toward him, her eyes fixed on his. “Griffen, in case no one else has bothered, I want to thank you on behalf of the state of Louisiana for coming here and becoming such a positive influence in our community. I know I appreciate what you’ve done in such a short time, and I hope you’ll continue to be involved while you live here.”
Griffen blinked. One cup of coffee was not enough to completely dispel the haze he was in. He must be hearing things.
“I don’t know how much of a positive influence I’ve been,” he said.
“Oh, but I disagree,” Penny said. Her blue eyes twinkled at him. Griffen felt dazzled. He had never been around movie stars until recently, but a few of them joined the poker games he sponsored. He was getting over the glamour they exuded, mostly because they didn’t choose to turn it on him. This must be what it was like to be in the full spotlight of their regard, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. “You may not have noticed what has been going on in this country lately,” she continued. “The presence of terrorists on American soil is just horrifying to me and to all decent people. As yet, they haven’t really taken a foothold in Louisiana.”
“Yeah, but we have our own problems,” Griffen said. “Drugs, gangs, and guns are everywhere in New Orleans.”
“I’m glad you noticed that,” Penny said. Her focus shifted from one of his eyes to the other, making him follow her eye movement. “I know you’ve been a force for good since you’ve gotten here.”
“To tell the truth, that hasn’t been my main intention,” Griffen said. “I needed to make some money and get out of a bad situation, which I would prefer not to discuss here. I’ve just done what I had to.”
“As you please,” Penny said, smiling warmly. “I understand you want to keep some things private. But, from what I’ve heard, and especially from Fox Lisa, here, you have raised the standard of living for your employees, made peace with some pretty fierce folks around town, and done your best to help preserve one of the crown jewels of this state. Visitors who don’t know anything else about Louisiana know the French Quarter of New Orleans. You’ve made it a better place for them to come.”
Griffen shifted uncomfortably. He felt as if he was being held to some standard of behavior far above his normal lifestyle. Part of him, the altruistic part, wanted to live up to it, but the commonsense part said he was being snowed. He didn’t have to have a quick-deal grifter switching cups around on a folding tray table, asking him to find the lady, to figure that out. Penny was canny. He steeled himself and decided to watch for pointers instead.
“Thanks,” he said. He sat back to make room for the waiter to refill his coffee cup. He grabbed for it and gulped half the boiling liquid.
Penny must have sensed the change in his attitude. Her tone changed from soothing to businesslike.
“Part of being a responsible citizen is seeing the things that need to be done and doing them,” she said, briskly. “That’s my job. As governor, I intend to take a hard stand on corruption, both in government and in daily life. That means stamping out the bad practices that everyone has been winking at all these years. Now, you’ve seen a lot of things go on in broad daylight that are against the law, haven’t you, Griffen?”
“Yes, I have,” Griffen said, wincing as her voice rose to a level that could be heard at the near tables. They were already being watched with open curiosity. Penny was a public figure. Her presence was exciting attention, not only from the patrons but from the restauranteurs, who were themselves foodie royalty in New Orleans. Mitchell had almost certainly alerted the owners that Penny was in the house. Fox Lisa had to have given her chapter and verse on his business. He had never tried to hide any of the details from her, and now he was wondering whether that had been wise. “I try not to let anyone get hurt.”
“And that is most admirable,” she agreed. “But there’s a long way between not letting anyone get hurt and helping, isn’t there?”
And there was the stick, Griffen realized. Penny was capable of using any situation to further her own interests, up to and including throwing him under the bus. “I don’t think I can be of much help. I’m pretty busy. I was planning to take a week off after Mardi Gras, but my sister has disappeared. Most, if not all, of my free attention has to be focused on finding her and bringing her back safely.”
“I understand that,” Penny said. “Fox Lisa informed me about your sister. Have you reported Valerie’s disappearance to the police?”
Since Detective Harrison had been at his krewe’s after-party when Griffen discovered Val was missing, he could answer that with a clear conscience. “Yes, I have. They’re looking into it, but there are no clear leads. I haven’t heard from her since late Tuesday night.”
“But she’s a grown woman, isn’t she?” Penny asked. “She might have just gone off on her own for a while. If she wanted to get in touch with you, she could.”
“It’s a lot more complicated than that,” Griffen said, uneasily. Dragon or not, the situation was none of Penny’s business. She understood that immediately, which made him even more uncomfortable.
“Well, I don’t plan to take up a lot of your time, Griffen. I understand how vital it is that you find your sister, and you need to make a living. I won’t ask for more than you are willing to give.”
There was the velvet glove, slipping onto the iron fist again.
“I hope you’re not looking for campaign contributions from me,” Griffen said, lightly. “Mardi Gras cleaned me out, and I have some other debts left over from last year.”
“Well, if you find a spare penny or two here and there, you know I would appreciate any help on that front you can give,” Penny said, just as lightly. “No, I was speaking of your most admirable protective instincts. You all but tore that car door off to get us out of the wreck last night. If you can extend them to helping to watch my back when I’m in public, that would be my fervent wish.”
“Uh, well, that sounds all right, but my uncle could . . .”
“Malcolm is an important man in my out-of-state fund-raising committee,” Penny said sweetly. “He doesn’t live here. You know the ins and outs of our culture here.”
“Well, some . . .”
“But he knows none of it.” Penny scooted her chair closer to him without making a sound. He could feel the warmth of her skin and smell her perfume. It was a spicy blend that tickled his nose and stirred his blood. “I’d feel so much safer. Between you and Fox Lisa, I know I’d be well protected.” Her large blue eyes were all that Griffen could see.
A baby at a nearby table let out a happy gurgle and banged on his plate with a spoon.
Griffen blinked again. She kept her gaze fixed on him. He wasn’t sure if she knew that she was trying to bend him to her will or if it just came naturally to her. In any case, it was a powerful sensation. He had to fight hard against it. All his senses told him he wanted to cooperate in anything she asked.
It had already worked on Fox Lisa. She looked at Griffen with a similar intensity, willing him to give Penny what she wanted.
That, as much as anything else, gave Griffen the steel to sharpen his mind.
“I’ll do what I can for you,” he said. “I’m sure you have a security detail already that stays with you at public events. I’ll keep my ears open and let you know if I hear anything.”
A tiny wrinkle of annoyance deepened between Penny’s coppery brows. Griffen felt the compulsion redouble, but he held on to his will.
“I hate to hear you say that when I’m counting on you,” Penny said. “But I did tell you that I would be grateful for any time you can spare me. But you don’t mind if I call on you to help look after me at my appearances? If you’re free, that is.”
Griffen thought about it for a moment. He could see nothing unreasonable in such a request.
“All right,” he said. “I’d be ha
ppy to do that.”
Penny beamed. He felt a wave of happiness wash over him. The diners at the nearby tables smiled at one another and seemed to cheer up, even the ones who weren’t listening in. She had some serious mojo. He needed to get away from her before he promised her his firstborn.
The thought reminded him of Val and her pending firstborn. He pushed back his chair and stood up.
“I really need to get out of here,” he said. “I have to take care of some things.”
Fox Lisa got up to kiss him. The other two women remained seated but extended hands to shake.
“Well, it was a real pleasure meeting you,” Horsie said. “I’ve got your cell-phone number. Should I send you a copy of Penny’s upcoming schedule so we can coordinate?”
“I’ll get back to you,” Griffen said firmly.
“Oh, c’mon, Griffen,” Fox Lisa said. “Horsie, I’ll bring it to him.”
“Thanks, honey.”
“I’d better go,” Griffen said. He hurried away, just before a smugly smiling Mitchell escorted the restaurant’s esteemed owner to greet Penny. She offered a gracious hand to him. Griffen was already forgotten.
Thirteen
Griffen made it out into the spring sunshine before he realized he still hadn’t consumed anything but a cup and a half of coffee. He shook his head. Penny could make anyone forget their own name. He looked at his watch. It was too early for a burger at Yo Mama’s, but Annette’s served breakfast all day. He had a sudden yen for their grits grillade, a spicy cutlet served over light, creamy cornmeal mush. He strode toward Dauphine. Once he had some food in his stomach, he intended to go home and get some sleep. He glanced at his phone. No messages from Jerome or his dealers.
“No news is good news,” a soft voice said.
Griffen almost jumped out of his shoes. Rose was walking beside him.
“I’m really glad to see you,” he said. “How long have you been there?”
“Since Brennan’s. You were making decisions. I didn’t want to interrupt you until you had made up your mind.”
Griffen had had to change his mind about a lot of things since coming to live in the French Quarter. One of them was his preconception about voodoo queens and ghosts. Rose was both. Instead of being a wild-eyed harridan calling down curses and sticking pins into cloth dolls, Rose was a lovely, slender, well-groomed African-American woman in her thirties. That is, she would have been in her thirties if she were alive. She wore a scoop-necked blouse, a long, colorful skirt tied tight at her small waist, and a scarf on her head, part of her Creole heritage. Still, she must have had a closet in the afterlife because she also appeared to him in a fancy ball gown.
“That last time I saw you, you were dancing with Detective Harrison,” he said.
Rose’s cheeks dimpled. “Thank you for that. It was good for both of us. I wish him to find closure and move on. If we are meant to be together again after his life’s candle is burned out, that is one thing, but I do not want him to be lonely until then.”
“Do you know something I don’t?” Griffen asked.
She looked at him sideways out of her long eyelashes. “I know many things. Not eternal truths or visions of the future. I see the man I knew. I will watch over him, but he deserves happiness. You can help guide him in that way.”
Griffen had a momentary vision of counseling the burly vice cop on his love life and quailed.
“I doubt he’d let me,” Griffen said. “And it’s really none of my business. We’re not that close. I already know more about his life than he probably feels comfortable with.”
“He trusts you in ways he trusts few others,” Rose said. “That is why you must not lie to him. He is strong. He reacts against new knowledge and sensations, then he steps back to assimilate what he has learned. I have always admired his wisdom. That is one of the things I found attractive about him. And his tendency toward mercy.”
“I’ve benefited from that,” Griffen admitted.
“And you have taken advantage of it. Acknowledge the karmic debt. It is not harmful to owe another as long as you remember you must repay. The eternal balance must be maintained. Your portion in life is great. Be generous with those to whom not so much is given.”
Griffen felt as if he had just opened a fortune cookie. “Whatever that means,” he said.
“You will learn in time. But you said you wished to see me.”
Griffen tried to stifle a yawn and failed. “I have to eat something. Can I buy you breakfast at Annette’s?”
“I do not need earthly food,” Rose said, “but I will enjoy absorbing the pleasure of others who dine there. David Harrison and I often had breakfast there. It has good feelings. And wonderful coffee.”
Griffen wanted badly to ask her about her earthly life, but at that moment he needed her insight about other things.
• • •
The motherly waitress in the tight pink uniform set the menu down on the small corner table and left him alone with the coffeepot. For a weekday morning, the little diner was fairly crowded. Griffen sat with his back to the rest of the room, hoping no one would be able to overhear him. The city had numerous inhabitants that before he had come he would have called “supernatural,” but he had since learned were just ordinary people. Basically, they got along as much as anyone else did. You couldn’t call the loup garou, the shape-changers, or the local vampires good citizens, but they tended to live and let live—most of the time. Not only that, but New Orleans tended to have a greater-than-normal number of tuned-in humans like Holly, who could see the others for what they really were.
“Can anyone here see you?” Griffen murmured, glancing over his shoulder. Two elderly African-American men laughed and argued over their breakfasts. An intense young woman with straight dark hair and eyebrows bent over a book as if absorbing the words along with her coffee. Three young mothers gossiped while their children threw crackers and bits of toast at one another. Half a dozen obvious tourists consulted guidebooks and maps.
“A few,” Rose said. “But they do not recognize me. All they see is a couple at a table. We can speak freely.”
Griffen sighed. “Good.”
She smiled. “You sound like you are setting your bag of troubles down at my feet.”
“I could sure use your help,” he said. “Do you know that Val is missing?”
“Yes, I do,” Rose said. “You need to bring her home before she is changed beyond recognition.”
Griffen felt his heart sink. “Is she in danger?”
“Not for her life,” the priestess said. “She, too, has choices to make. They may not be the right ones. She is young and has much wisdom to gain.”
“I want to find her, but a lot of people are demanding pieces of my time. I’ve hardly checked in on my dealers for three days.”
“You must stand up for yourself, Griffen.”
“I know! I don’t want to get involved with Penny Dunbar. She tried to blackmail me into helping her. Fox Lisa believes in her. I don’t know how much is her qualifications, or this . . . glamour that she gives off. It’s like a drug. I had to keep pinching myself so I didn’t promise her the moon.”
Rose smiled. “A strong woman is a role model for a soul as young as Fox Lisa. She wishes to emulate her. I understand that very well.”
“But Fox Lisa’s strong in her own right,” Griffen said.
“She may not feel that way. She is vulnerable while she works out who she is in this lifetime. Working for Penny Dunbar may give her some insights.”
Griffen frowned. “I don’t really like Penny. She sounds like a nice lady, but she’s tough as a boot.”
Rose laughed, a tinkling sound. “You have had limited experience as yet with Southern women, Griffen. We seem delicate and helpless, yet we must run our households and businesses as well as any man. Do I need to remind you how seldom things
are as they seem?”
“Thanks for the philosophy lesson. She was in a major car accident that could have killed her, but it seems as if it didn’t even faze her.”
“Oh, it did. It shook the foundations of the spirit world.”
“A car accident? Why?”
“It was an interference,” Rose said, solemnly. “Malign influence that took over the soul of that poor man in the truck. It was one of the reasons I have not been able to come to you. Many of us found our way back to this world blocked.”
“To kill Penny? But she’s just a politician. Like Duvallier said, they’re a dime a dozen.”
Rose shivered. For a moment, he could see the chair rail through her body.
“It is not merely a person’s profession that shapes the shadow he casts in the world. Penny Dunbar is a receptacle of power, as are you. To remove her would set that power free and cause a void that could easily be filled by evil.”
Griffen felt a cold weight grow in his stomach, to the great annoyance of the point of fire that lived there. “So I should be protecting her?”
“To keep the balance of power, it would seem so.”
“Why me?”
“Partly because she asked you. A person in danger has a right to choose a champion.”
“What about my sister?”
“That is a choice you must make.”
“Well, that’s easy,” Griffen said, firmly. “Val’s well-being and her baby are my first priority.”
“Is it?” Rose tilted her head. “The enigma of life is that we cannot make all things happen.”
One of the other things that Griffen had had to come to grips with was that ghosts weren’t always insubstantial. Rose gripped his arm. Her hand was warm.
“Don’t look on the surface. Look beneath. Penny Dunbar is frightened. She is in danger. That is why she makes alliances she would normally avoid.”
“Like me,” he said.
“And others. Together they form a chain that can anchor her to this world when malign influences would wish otherwise.”
Robert Asprin's Dragons Run Page 9
