Deadly Night

by Heather Graham

  “May we leave?” she asked again, her voice cold. Clearly she wasn’t buying his apology.

  “Of course.”

  He motioned the waitress for the check. Kendall didn’t speak, wouldn’t even look at him, while he waited for the return of his credit card.

  As they rose, she spoke as if by rote. “Thank you for the lovely dinner.”

  “It was my pleasure,” he told her, knowing he sounded equally wooden.

  They drove in silence the whole way back.

  He went around her block twice without being able to find on-street parking.

  “You can let me out anywhere along here,” she told him.

  “No, I can’t,” he said.

  “Then just double park and see me to the door.”

  “No.”

  Stubbornly, he drove around the block again and finally found parking. She waited impatiently while he put coins in the meter. She was clearly anxious to shake him, but even so, she was going to be polite and not take off without him.

  She didn’t protest when he took her arm to escort her down the street, but he could feel the tension in her. He walked her to the door of her building, and then to the door of her apartment.

  When she turned to say good-night, he was ready.

  “Kendall, you’re fighting with yourself right now, not me. I didn’t say a word to you. No, I don’t understand. But I know that something happened, and that it upset you. I saw the way you reacted to Jenny Trent’s picture. I know you’re sincere, and that you’re telling me the truth.”

  She stared at him blankly. Then she took a breath. “I hope you find her. But…you have to lay off Vinnie. He’s a good guy. And I know it.”

  “Sure.”

  “Liar.”

  “If he’s a good guy, I’ll know it.”

  “But you won’t take my word for it?”

  “I wouldn’t take my own mother’s word for it. That’s not the business I’m in.”

  She seemed agitated, and not just about Vinnie.

  “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  “Of course.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I can’t explain.”

  They just stood there for a moment, and it was very strange. It was as if he could feel waves of expectation emanating from them both. If they’d been on a date…

  Hell, he could hardly remember dating, and it wasn’t the same anymore, anyway. People seemed to meet one another casually—in a bar, mostly—size each other up and head for the bedroom, sometimes even before they made it to a first-name basis. He’d done it himself. He’d woken up once or twice not even knowing the name of the woman with whom he’d slept the night before.

  And it hadn’t mattered. They wouldn’t meet again.

  But Kendall…Kendall was different. He knew her name well. It often haunted his thoughts. He knew her eyes, and he was coming to know her moods, her smile, even her laughter. Her resentment, her sense of justice, her pride. He knew all those things, knew he was being charmed by them. And he knew, as well, that he was equally seduced by the softness of her skin, the curves of her body, the silken brush of her hair.

  So what the hell was the matter? Yeah, he knew her name, and she knew his. But screw it. Why couldn’t it be what it had been for him before, and a fast and casual physical fling for her? The attraction was there: chemical, carnal, whatever. Get it over with. Leave.

  He had never been more tempted to simply step forward and take a woman in his arms. Explore every part of her in a mindless need to explore, and spend the night in a tangle of sheets and naked flesh.

  No. He knew her name too well. And that changed everything.

  He stepped back. “Good night. And thank you.”

  “Thank you.”

  She looked at him for a moment.

  And in that moment, he thought that she was thinking the same thing he was.

  But the moment passed.

  She stepped inside and closed the door.

  And he headed up to Bourbon Street.

  Kendall’s cheeks were flushed. She pressed her palms against them. If he’d stood there a moment more, she would have dragged him in.

  Because she didn’t want to be alone.

  And even more, because she couldn’t remember ever wanting someone so much.

  She was an idiot. She’d been an idiot to tell him about the reading, and worse, she was an idiot to be anywhere near him. Her first impression was the one she needed to go by.

  It didn’t matter. What she liked about him, what she didn’t like, the good, the bad, it all combined to create an attraction that verged on embarrassing. She wanted to sleep with him.

  Even though he undoubtedly thought she was crazy.

  Not even that mattered. It was as if she could feel the remnants of his energy around her, as if she were still inhaling his scent, something woodsy and compelling that haunted her, made her want to run out to the street and try to be matter-of-fact and polite and invite him back for after-dinner sex, just as she might have invited him in for coffee.

  Jezebel meowed, striding sinuously between her legs. She absently stooped to pick up the cat.

  She couldn’t believe she had told him about the tarot card.

  Jenny Trent’s tarot card.

  Death, coming to life.

  Just as it had today. For Ann. The pretty little thing who was heading out on a ship tomorrow. The girl who was, no doubt, out there right now, celebrating with her friend, unaware that danger could be stalking her.

  Kendall had no idea what she would even say to her if she found her, and anyway, there were so many places where she might be.

  No, there was only one place where tourists went looking to party in the decadence of the Big Easy.

  Kendall set the cat back down on the floor, turned and left her apartment, heading straight for Bourbon Street.

  10

  It was just after ten when Aidan reached the bar. The early crowd had come and gone.

  It was still busy, with the late crowd coming out in force. Several wore name tags that identified them as a group that would be leaving on one of the cruise ships in the morning. He was glad to see them there; he knew that the city’s economy counted on the passengers to come and stay before sailing to the Caribbean, or after they returned.

  Jeremy was at the bar when Aidan came in, standing at one end and resting his back against the wall, so he could see everything going on. When he saw Aidan, he indicated a nearby empty table that was also against the wall, affording a bird’s-eye view of those who came and went.

  The only other person Aidan recognized in the place at the moment was Vinnie, and he was playing his heart out on stage.

  “How was dinner?” Jeremy asked once they sat down.

  “Fine. Kendall remembered Jenny Trent.” He didn’t add that Kendall was convinced a tarot card had taken on a life of its own when she had done Jenny’s reading.

  “So we can more or less trace her steps until she arrived here,” Jeremy said.

  Aidan nodded. He was surprised when the waitress dropped by the table, planting a beer in front of him. “There you go. Still cold.”

  “Thanks,” he told her.

  “That’s only beer number two. Your brother is a slow drinker.”

  “Sorry,” Jeremy said.

  “It’s all right. You play the hell out of a guitar. Glad to see Vinnie talked you into joining him after all.”

  “Thanks.”

  Aidan watched the woman walk away, then said, “Kendall saw Jenny. And earlier the waitress said she was flirting with the band, or the band was flirting with her. They both said she was a nice woman.”

  “So what next?” Jeremy asked.

  “You need to go sit in for Vinnie.”

  “Again?”

  “I need to talk to him.”

  Jeremy looked at his brother. “Isn’t this a long shot?”

  “I’ve got to start somewhere.”

  “Well, just so you know
, for what it’s worth, your friend Jonas was in here. So was Matty. Thing is, I don’t think he was expecting her. He was flirting with some girl at the bar when I let him know she was here.”

  Aidan shook his head. “That’s sad. She had all that surgery to make him happy. And she was a pretty girl from the start.”

  “Your buddy Jon Abel was in, too, with a group from the coroner’s office.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. And Hal Vincent was in, too. Looking like a lost puppy dog.”

  So Jonas was on the prowl. Hal Vincent seemed to need a nightly beer. And Jon Abel happened to frequent the same place. Abel was a weird-looking little pissant, even cleaned up. He didn’t want to believe that Hal could be a bad guy, and Jonas…no, it couldn’t be Jonas. Maybe he was fooling around on Matty. That was sad, but it didn’t make him a monster.

  Vinnie was a womanizer who had been victimized as a child, teased for not being tough enough. He dressed like a vampire. He had a connection to Kendall’s shop, so he had quite likely been both places where Jenny Trent had last used her credit card. Mason was connected to both places, too, but he had yet to see Mason come on to a woman.

  “See if you can get Vinnie over to me,” Aidan told his brother.

  Jeremy rolled his eyes and walked toward the stage. He waved to Vinnie, who grinned and, never missing a note of the number they were playing, looked across the room, saw Aidan and nodded.

  Aidan nodded back.

  When the number was over, Vinnie reintroduced Jeremy to the crowd, then came over to Aidan’s table.

  Vinnie’s smile appeared sincere. “This place is becoming a hangout for you guys, huh?” he said. The waitress was nearby, and he reached out, catching her by the arm. “Gretchen, be a darling, huh? Bring me a drink. Something sweet. The house special.”

  Gretchen noted Aidan and lowered her voice. “You gotta pay your bill tonight, Vinnie. Max says so.”

  “Sure,” Vinnie said quickly.

  “You need to stop buying drinks for every half-decent woman who walks in here, you know?” Gretchen said, then smiled. “It’s all right. This one will be on me.”

  As she moved away, Vinnie’s smile faded a bit. Then he caught Aidan watching him and forced the grin back into place. “Hey, I like people,” he said. “Sometimes too much, I guess.”

  Aidan pulled out the picture of Jenny Trent and set it in front of the other man.

  Vinnie looked at the picture, then up at him.

  “What’s up, man?”

  “You know her?”

  Vinnie shrugged. He was thoughtful for a moment. “You have no idea how many women come in here,” he muttered, then frowned thoughtfully. “Yeah. I remember her. I mean, I can’t say I know her. But she was in here. So? She was a nice girl.”

  “That’s what I hear.”

  Vinnie straightened distrustfully in his chair. “What’s going on?”

  Gretchen put a drink in front of him just then. “Enjoy,” she said, winking.

  “Thanks, Gretchen,” he said. Aidan imagined he had his appeal. He had the dark soulful eyes of the quintessential artist and aesthetic features. His long dark hair accentuated the look.

  “Do you remember her name?”

  “Let me think. June…Jessie…Jenny. That’s it. Her name is Jenny. And what the hell is the problem, anyway? She said she’s over twenty-one.”

  “No one said she wasn’t,” Aidan said, noticing Vinnie’s use of the present tense.

  Vinnie leaned back. “I don’t have to answer any of your questions.”

  “No, but I’d appreciate it if you would.”

  Vinnie was frowning by then. “You tell me what the hell is going on first.” He stared at Aidan. If he was acting, he was good.

  Gretchen came back around. “Mr. Flynn, you doing okay?” She stopped, staring at the picture on the table.

  “Hey, Vinnie, that’s a great shot of that cutie you were trying to pick up, huh?” she teased, nudging him with her hip. Then she seemed to sense the tension at the table and stopped talking, looking embarrassed.

  “We’re good, Gretchen, thanks,” Aidan said.

  “Sorry, Vinnie,” she said, and moved on.

  Vinnie groaned. “What is it with this girl?” He stared at Aidan. “Oh, God, don’t tell me something’s happened to her.”

  “She’s missing,” Aidan said.

  “Missing?” Vinnie looked puzzled.

  “Missing. Never went to South America. Never went home. She’s missing.”

  “Hey, I saw her back to her bed-and-breakfast, and that was it. We kissed on the doorstep and said good-night. I didn’t even sleep with her. She was staying pretty far over toward the edge of the Quarter, near Rampart and Esplanade.”

  Aidan hid his surprise; there was no record of Jenny Trent having stayed anywhere.

  “You walked her to her bed-and-breakfast?” he said.

  “That was it. I swear,” he said.

  “Can you remember exactly where it was?” Aidan asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Can you take me there?”

  “Tomorrow, if you want,” Vinnie agreed, still defensive. “And now you need to excuse me. I have a gig to finish.”

  Aidan reached out to catch hold of Vinnie’s lapel. “Don’t you pull a disappearing act on me, huh?” he said.

  Vinnie looked as if he was about to say something, then smiled suddenly. “Hey!” he called loudly.

  Aidan looked up. He’d been so intent on his conversation with Vinnie that he hadn’t been watching the door. He saw now that Kendall Montgomery had come into the bar, and she was staring at him with an angry scowl as she walked straight over to his table.

  “What the hell is going on here?” she demanded.

  “Your friend thinks I did away with this girl,” Vinnie said pleasantly, giving her a poor-me grin.

  He was a rodent, Aidan thought. Or like a little kid, crawling behind his mother’s skirts because he had done something wrong on the playground.

  Except this was a grown-up and deadly playground.

  He slowly eased his hold on Vinnie, who straightened his jacket. “I’ve gotta go back up on stage. You explain, huh, Flynn?”

  He stood and walked away.

  Aidan watched as Kendall took the chair Vinnie had just vacated, staring at him venomously. “You son of a bitch,” she told him.

  He didn’t blink. “Jenny Trent was in your shop and at this bar. Vinnie is always in your shop and at this bar.”

  “What makes you think he was in the shop that day?”

  “When isn’t he?” He leaned toward her at last. “The waitress told me he’d been flirting with Jenny, and that makes him a natural person with whom to start. And he admits that he walked her back to her B and B.”

  “So go question everyone else who stayed in the same place,” Kendall told him, seething with hostility.

  “I don’t know where she stayed. Vinnie does.”

  “And he told you that—so you’re threatening him? How interesting.”

  He decided it was time to turn the conversation. “I’ll tell you something else interesting. I thought you wanted out of this scene for a while. We went to dinner out of the Quarter—at your request.” He lowered his voice but leaned even closer, so she could hear him clearly despite the music. “Then you about turned into a ghost when you saw Jenny Trent’s picture and jumped to attention on behalf of Vinnie’s reputation. So what are you doing out here now? Checking in with him?”

  She gaped, then quickly recovered. “You are a jerk.”

  “Jenny Trent is missing, and probably dead. If I have to be a jerk to find out what happened to her, so be it.”

  She stood up, telling him what he ought to do with himself, then headed to the bar.

  Jeremy returned to the table and took a seat across from him.

  “Wow. You really know how to make friends and influence people, huh, partner?” he said dryly.

  “Something is going on with her,
” Aidan said.

  “I agree. She’s ape-shit angry because she thinks you’re persecuting her friend,” Jeremy said.

  “No. She was really unnerved by Jenny’s picture. I thought it might be because she was worried about Vinnie. But that wasn’t it. She wasn’t angry, she was stunned.”

  He stood, and Jeremy looked up at him. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to find out why she came back out tonight.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “More community relations. Great.” Aidan looked at him. “Hey, good luck. Should I follow Vinnie out of here?”

  “Not a bad idea,” Aidan said, and strode for the bar.

  Kendall didn’t look his way, but she had known he was coming, because she spoke the minute he stopped beside her. “Don’t you ever give up and go away? I don’t have to talk to you. I’m out on the town—so what? You can investigate all you want, but you’re not a cop, and the cops don’t want to talk to you. Give up. Go away.”

  He slid onto the bar stool at her side anyway. She had ordered a sweet drink, too, and was playing with the fruit garnish that came on top.

  “Look, Vinnie can take us further on Jenny’s trail than we’ve been able to get before.”

  “So you decide to manhandle him?”

  “I was just making sure he wasn’t giving me a line.”

  She swiveled on her stool, eyes still flashing with anger. “You are a piece of work.”

  “I need to find the truth.”

  She shook her head. “Why?” she whispered. “You found a bone. Just a bone. If you had been here every day for the last couple of years, you wouldn’t have thought anything of it.”

  “But now I know there was a real girl who disappeared and I do think something of it.”

  She looked tired suddenly.

  “You’ve been in the service, you’ve been FBI. God in heaven, you must know that sometimes people disappear. Why the hell do you care?”

  “Someone should,” he said.

  She lowered her eyes, then looked up at him again. “Then help me.”

  “What?”

  “Help me now,” she said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  She hesitated, took a deep breath, exhaled. “You want help. You crash into all our lives and think we should just help you because you have a hunch. Well, I need help, too, because…that thing with the card that I told you about? It happened again today.”