Marley smiled at that and stuck out a hand. “Marley Millet.”
He shook and held her hand. “Like the antiques people? On Royal?”
“That’s us.” She didn’t get out so much. The idea that people who lived in this town knew her family always came as a surprise.
“That explains the hair,” he said. “My-oh-my, that is
red
. Never saw redder hair than that. Is it true you all have it—red hair?”
Marley cleared her throat. “Not quite all.” Bless Sykes for his black mane.
“And you are all cursed, right?”
Bernie slapped his thighs and laughed. He laughed till tears trickled from his squeezed-up eyes and ran down his bunched cheeks.
Bernie didn’t stop laughing until he finally noticed he was making a lot of noise in an otherwise silent room.
He shut his mouth over all that hilarity a good deal too
late for Marley’s liking. She didn’t have a single idea where this man would get secret information about her family, but she hated it.
“Just kidding,” Bernie said. He coughed into a fist. “Lighten up, all of you. I made a little joke. You know how it is with me, Gray. Folks in the Quarter think I run all the gossip around so they tell me crazy stuff sometimes.”
“Right,” Gray said.
He glanced at Marley and her stomach turned. Bernie was protesting too much and too long and Gray knew it.
“Anyway,” Bernie said, chuckling in little bursts. “What difference would a little curse make among friends?”
T
he approach of raised voices broke the tension. A man’s loud voice and quieter responses from a woman.
“It’s Danny,” Marley said, so grateful for the diversion she swallowed big gulps of air.
“I was expecting Nat Archer,” Gray told her. “Stay cool.”
As if she wasn’t already working on that.
Sidney, the female singer from Scully’s, was with Danny and he wasn’t making any secret about how mad he was at her. She glided ahead into the bar and he strode to keep up with her.
“It’s a lousy idea, I’m tellin’ you,” he shouted. “And it’s wrong. Why are you in such a goddamn hurry to move on? You think Amber’s dead, don’t you?”
“No,” Sidney said clearly.
Danny grabbed and swung her to face him. “Liar,” he said. “Off with the old and on with the new. That’s the kind of friend you are. She’ll not thank you for it when she comes back.”
“Ah, hell,” Gray muttered. “Angry people never make any sense. I need cool heads.”
“Uh-huh,” Marley said. “And loose tongues.”
Gray snorted. “You come up with the damnedest things.”
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
He put an arm around her shoulders. “Yes, you are.”
Marley turned rigid. He was warm against her side and his hand cupping her shoulder held her there—unless she
decided to duck away, which would make her feel foolish. They must look like a couple. She thought about that and suddenly had to stop herself from threading her own arm behind his waist.
“Relax,” he whispered.
“I am relaxed.”
“Sure you are.”
“What are you two doing here?” Danny said. He came toward them, his hands curled into fists. “What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“Watch your mouth,” Gray said. “We were here first, remember?”
“Did you call them, Bernie?” Danny said. “You did, didn’t you? You’ve got a big mouth, my man. Biggest mouth in town and it needs filling up.” He raised a large hand as if he intended to do just that.
“Hey, hey,” Gray said. “Simmer down.”
“You listen to me,” Danny said. “I’ve been stuck in a room with two cops for hours. They asked me questions that aren’t any of their business. I’m goddamn sick of not knowing what’s happened to Amber, and goddamn sick of being treated like I’m the reason she’s gone. And I’m pissed off with you two because I think it’s all your fault.”
Gray tightened his hold on Marley’s shoulder. He rubbed her upper arm and felt a jolt. Touching her was electric. Under other circumstances, he’d laugh. “That makes a lot of sense, Danny. Listen to yourself run off at the mouth.”
Danny came a threatening step closer. “You asked a lot of questions last night. Just like the cops. You used to be a cop, Fisher. And her—” he pointed at Marley “—her family’s a bunch of psychics. Or maybe that should be psychos. You’re not the only one who can dig around in other people’s business. The Millets are a strange lot. Why are they mixed up in this? That’s what I’d like to know.”
Marley set her feet a little wider apart. Intimidation tactics didn’t impress her. Neither did blustering. “Rumors,” she said.
“Talk to me,” Gray told Danny. “The cops talked to you because you’re Amber’s boyfriend.”
“You told them she lives with me.”
“You should have told them yourself,” Gray pointed out. “Are they on their way here to see Pipes?”
“How the hell should I know?” Danny said. “Sidney’s the one who told me Pipes was back, not the cops.”
“She called me,” Sidney said. “That’s why I’m here.”
Gray looked at Danny. “Did you fill Nat Archer in about Amber’s son this time?”
Nobody said a word for far too long.
Finally Danny said, “Amber doesn’t have a son.”
“Really?” Gray shrugged. “If you say so. You’d know, Sidney.”
Sidney didn’t seem inclined to say a whole lot. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said.
Marley was struck afresh by the woman’s elegant features. The cream linen jacket and pants she wore looked expensive and fitted her perfectly. She was effortlessly casual—and unnaturally cold.
Gray shifted beside Marley. “Amber doesn’t have a son named Alan?”
“She never mentioned him,” Sidney said. “She would have if he was real. Amber tells me everything. Hi, Pipes,” she added, leaning to see past Gray.
With her arms wrapped around her middle, Pipes bowed her head over the table.
“Hi, Pipes,” Sidney repeated.
“Yeah,” Pipes said. “Hi, Sidney.”
“You said she called you over here because she wants to see you,” Danny said, glaring at Sidney. “Doesn’t look like it to me.”
“Why don’t you go back to Scully’s and cool off,” Sidney
told him. “If I hadn’t stopped by there for my stuff you wouldn’t have followed me here. I wish you hadn’t. We’re all upset, not just you.”
“It’s not stopping you from taking care of business,” Danny said.
“You did call me, Pipes,” Sidney said. “You said you wanted to talk to me about getting together.”
Pipes nodded and the ends of her hair rested on the table.
“I got a pitcher of margaritas here,” Bernie announced in a booming voice. “Sit down, all of you. Holy mama, it’s hot and you’re all gettin’ hot along with the weather.”
Glasses clinked. He carried them upside down by the stems, a big bunch of them in one hand. In the other hand he held a brimming pitcher.
“What do you have in mind, Pipes?” Sidney said. She sat at the table with the other woman.
Bernie filled glasses, but only Danny reached for one.
“Amber’s gone,” Pipes said. “You don’t have anyone to sing with and you don’t like singing alone so we should get together.”
A crack made Marley jump. Bernie had come close to dropping his jug on the table. “What d’you mean? You sing alone, Pipes. We’re not payin’ for two singers.”
“Amber’s coming back, I tell you,” Danny said.
“I want to sing with Sidney.” Pipes still didn’t raise her head. “It’s sad about Amber. I’ll sing with Sidney. That’s the best thing.”
“People like you are solo acts,” Bernie said.
“Tell him, Pipes,” Sidney said.
“What?” the other singer said, looking up.
Sidney spread her hands. “About us. About what we’re going to do.”
“We’ll sing at Scully’s,” Pipes said. “I’ll go get my things.”
“You can’t.” Bernie looked at each of them.
“That’s a great idea,” Danny said. His shoulders dropped
to normal height and he grinned. He was hearing the plan for the first time. “Welcome to Scully’s,” he told Pipes.
“So much for wanting to look after Amber’s interests,” Gray said under his breath. “Doesn’t look upset anymore, does he?”
“Nope,” Marley agreed.
“Hoo mama,” Bernie said. “I gotta stop this. Pipes, when Amber comes back, she’s gonna want her job. If she comes back.”
Marley closed her eyes.
“Don’t talk like that,” Pipes said. “You don’t know. She could—”
“This is horrible,” Sidney said calmly. “What an awful thing to say. Come on, Pipes, let’s go.”
Gray stirred beside Marley. “Pipes and I have an appointment,” he said. “I’ll walk her over later. First she’ll have to let NOPD know they can stop looking for her.”
“They’re turning this town upside down,” Bernie said, pausing in the midst of chewing a strip off a thumbnail. “Everyone I know—in the club scene—they’re all getting questioned. It’s been a couple of years since that string of women went missing and never showed up, but this is bringing that back full force. This wouldn’t be the first time a serial killer went quiet for a period of time, then started up again. Folks are scared.”
“They ought to be less scared once it’s put out that Pipes is back,” Marley said, hoping for a little reason.
“Yeah,” Danny said, and guffawed. “Now there’s only two women missing and one dead. That should make ’em feel better.”
He didn’t, she realized, look too steady on his feet. Bartenders who did a lot of drinking had more than the usual problems.
“Why don’t they find Amber?” Danny said loudly. “You tell me that.”
“I know they’re looking for her,” Gray said. “This is a
different case than the Shirley Cooper one. This time we’ve got a body.”
Danny snorted. “One body and you can’t be sure it’s connected to Amber and Liza.”
Gray felt Marley shudder.
Sidney clasped one of Pipes’s hands and pulled the woman to her feet. “What were you saying about getting kicked out of your place?”
“I—” Pipes had her head up finally. Her eyes filled with tears. “That’s right.”
“That’s what I thought,” Sidney said. “You’re staying with me. I live in my folks’ house. There’s loads of room.”
“They might not like—”
“I told them and they’re glad,” Sidney said. “We need to rehearse if we’re singing tonight.”
Marley didn’t like Sidney. What she was doing felt disloyal to her missing partner.
“Pipes,” Bernie said, but kept his voice level. “At least come back and tell the boys in the band what you’re doing.”
She shook her head. “It’d make me cry.”
“So why are you going at all?”
“I need a change.”
“Sidney,” Gray said. “Do you have any ideas where we could look for Liza and Amber? Has Amber talked about somewhere she likes to go—to get away?”
“No.”
Sidney started to walk away. “You can talk to Pipes and me about the article at the same time,” she said, turning back toward Gray. “Danny’ll let you know our schedule at Scully’s.”
Bernie poured himself a brimming margarita and sat down. “Thought we were saved when Pipes walked in. Shows what I know.”
“Plenty more where she came from,” Danny said. Either he wanted bad feelings, or he really was drunk.
“Time to go,” Gray said to Marley. He checked his watch. “I’d see you back, but I’ve got to get on.”
“You’re going to see Nat Archer,” Marley told him quietly, not that anyone else was interested in what they might be saying. “I’m coming, too.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“I’m only going to back you up about Pipes being around again.”
“I don’t need backing up.”
Of course he didn’t, but she had decided to stick to him regardless. “Between us we won’t forget anything the detective will want to know,” she said.
She wanted to be with him, period.
Marley liked being with him—too much.
Leaving a dejected Bernie gazing into his margarita, Gray put a hand at the small of Marley’s back and guided her behind Danny and the two other women.
“Thanks for nothing, Pipes,” Bernie said behind them.
Pipes didn’t answer. Marley gave the man a sympathetic smile.
Outside the front doors, clammy heat hit them in the face.
“Whooee,” Gray said. “Too bad we don’t have time for a swim.”
She was getting used to his unexpected remarks. “It would be if I could swim,” she said. Her mouth remained open. The female Millets couldn’t swim. They didn’t know why, but they couldn’t. But one of their unwritten rules was that they never let anyone else know.
Gray didn’t say anything. Thank goodness he was preoccupied. She hoped he would forget Bernie’s inconvenient suggestion about a curse.
Danny hailed a cab, although Marley couldn’t imagine why when Scully’s was so close—unless he didn’t trust himself to walk. She opened her mouth to say as much to Gray.
“Probably because he’s feeling his liquor,” Gray said.
Marley squinted against the sun to look up at him. “Yes,” she said. He didn’t show any sign of knowing his ideas weren’t his own.
“Bye,” Sidney called when she was getting into the taxi. “Talk to you soon, Gray.”
Pipes waited to follow Sidney into the backseat and Danny lowered himself into the front with the driver.
Traffic jostled, horns honked, and pedestrians passed on the sidewalk. A guitarist sat on a box at the corner and played, his instrument case open in front of him for tips.
“It’s all so normal,” Marley said to Gray. “Look around. It’s like there’s nothing wrong with the world.”
He gave her a long look. “Strange, huh?”
She nodded.
Pipes bent to get into the cab. Her shiny blond hair did its pretty, slipping forward thing.
Two red, swollen welts marred the back of her white neck.
“T
here they go,” Gray said. “Shucks. And they barely said goodbye. I’m wounded.”
“You could
try
to sound hurt.” Marley gave a nervous little laugh. “Weird, though,” she said. She looked different, distracted.
The cab carrying Danny and his newly formed singing duo had cut a left at the end of the block.
Standing there in the sunshine, gold hoops glinting in her ears, Marley attracted all the light to her hair and skin—to her green eyes—or so it seemed to him.
“You’ll want to get to your friend’s office,” she said.
It took an instant for him to know what she meant. “Nat Archer?” Only moments ago she’d said she was going with him. What gave? He said, “Yeah. I need to keep Nat in the picture if there’s something I find out. Do you want to take a cab, too? Or shall we walk?”
He didn’t much care how they got where they needed to be as long as she was with him. Black was great on her and he’d like to tell her how much he appreciated the tight shirt, and the shorts that showed off her legs. Smoothing his hands up her thighs would feel so good. His fingers would slide all the way around to her tush. And her breasts would make sweet little handfuls—sexy-as-hell handfuls.
Shoot, he had lousy timing.
Marley dug in her pocket and pulled out a key. “Wow, I thought I’d forgotten this.”
She didn’t sound as if she thought that at all. He would bet she was uncomfortable with him again and searching for things to say.
If she had any idea how much research he had already done on the Millets, she’d be mad.
“The key to my flat,” she told him, waving it in the air. “Difficult to get in without that.”
“Why is it called Court of Angels?” Damn, he shouldn’t have asked that.
“How do you know about that?”
“You mentioned it,” he lied.
“Really? It’s filled with angels—all kinds of them.”
He looked at her narrowly. “All kinds?”
She nodded. “Stone angels. Young ones, old ones, pretty ones, plain ones, visible and invisible.” Her little smile amused him. She did like to try getting a rise out of him.
“Good,” he said. “You can’t have too many guardian angels.”
“I’ll take as many as I can get,” she said.
He nodded, fresh out of answers.
He’d done some research on her family on the Internet and discovered a lot of odd details. But the really odd thing was that once he hit a site—usually containing nothing more than a few cryptic innuendos—it went away and he couldn’t get back there. The one time he had tried to print something to get around what seemed like a self-destruct setup, he only got what looked like Sanskrit or something equally indecipherable.
“Well.” She gave him a brilliant smile. “I’d best be going. Good luck with everything.”
“I thought you wanted to come with me.”
She spread her hands and shrugged. “You don’t want me tagging along all the time.”
With an awkward, bouncy step, she backed away.
“Okay,” he said slowly. Her act wasn’t convincing. Marley didn’t want to be with him anymore, and she was in a hurry. That was obvious, but not why.
“Thanks for letting me come here with you,” she said, wiggling her fingers at him.
A few more feet separated them. She was hiding something, but he didn’t think it would help to press her.
“It’s nice to have company,” he said and felt lame. “Better than walking alone. Hey, I’m going right past your place anyway.”
She flushed, that lovely bright blush he was getting to like a lot. “You go on. I’m already out so I’m going to do a few things first. Better than breaking away from work again later.”
Marley, he decided, was perfect to look at. And she’d be perfect in bed.
He actually sucked in his gut. When was the last time he had thought about sleeping with a woman and felt as if someone had punched him? He couldn’t remember.
“Bye then,” she said.
He grinned. “Bye then, Marley. We’ve still got a date for tonight, remember?”
She all but danced in place. “We do? Oh, yes, we do. See you then. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Marley jogged away and ducked down a side street.
Gray’s attention switched at once to a police cruiser heading his way. It swerved to a stop at the curb beside him.
“What are you doin’ here?” Nat Archer said through the open front-passenger window of the car. He threw open the door and got out.
“You tell me first,” Gray said. He didn’t like it that he hadn’t been able to hang on to Marley longer.
“According to you I was keeping you out of bed earlier. When you left, you said that’s where you were heading—bed.”
“I changed my mind. Is that a new crime?”
“Only if you make it into something I don’t like,” Nat said. He wasn’t known to be argumentative, but no one would know that here and now.
Bucky Fist climbed from the other side of the car and crossed his arms on top. He wore dark sunglasses. “Hey there, Gray. I bet you think we’re followin’ you around.”
He did. “Why would you do a thing like that? I’m boring. You making any progress with the case?”
“Nope. Nothin’s movin’, not one damn thing. Except the phones. Those phones are ringin’ off the hooks. Lemon’s ready to quit if somethin’ doesn’t happen soon.”
Gray wrinkled his nose and thought about it. “What would make you happy? More bodies?”
“Don’t goad me,” Nat said.
“Me?” Gray feigned shock.
“Where’s your lady friend?” Nat said, catching Gray unprepared.
“Who would that be?”
“Don’t get cute with me. You know who I mean. Your new psychic
amour
. Is she still inside?” Nat indicated the Caged Bird.
They hadn’t seen Marley on the sidewalk. That was something positive.
“How the hell do you know who I’ve been with or where I’ve been? Or where to find me?”
A slow smile spread over Nat’s memorable face. “You got a short memory? I’ve got my ways—you found that out earlier.”
Bucky came around the car and onto the sidewalk. He hitched his wrinkled suit jacket across his chest and did up a button. He wore a shoulder holster and it bulged.
“You go on in and make sure nobody leaves,” Nat said to his partner. “I’ll be right there.”
Like the good command-taker he was, Bucky walked
into the club, his pant legs flapping. Gray noticed he kept on his sunglasses. Maybe he used them to look inscrutable.
When they were alone Nat said, “Now you can answer the question—what were you doing in this club?”
“Visiting old friends,” Nat said.
“When did Pipes Dupuis get to be an old friend of yours?”
He ruckled his brow. “Who told you she was there?”
“Anonymous tip.”
“Ah, of course. So how about letting me in on who you’ve got following me around.” The idea irked Gray. When he’d been with the department his ability to lose tails was legendary. “I must be losing my touch.”
“I doubt it,” Nat said, suddenly really interested in the sky. “Now and then a real talent comes my way, that’s all. I want you with me. Let’s get inside.”
He ought to tell the man Pipes had already left with Sidney and Danny. “Would it be okay if I wait out here?”
Nat hesitated.
“It’s a stuffy place and I’m tired,” he said. “I don’t want to drift off on you.”
“Yeah,” Nat said. “It wouldn’t look good, you asleep on a barroom table. Leave this sidewalk before I get back and I’ll have you picked up so fast you’ll think it’s yesterday.”
“Nice,” Gray said. “I’m not leaving.”
Nat shrugged his big shoulders inside a gray seersucker jacket. He strode across the sidewalk and into the club.
Gray rested his arms on top of the police vehicle, just the way Bucky had. Too bad he didn’t have a pair of cool shades. He grinned and let his eyes close. Damn, he was tired.
A tap on his shoulder sent a shock down his spine. He maintained his casual position and looked over his shoulder.
“Hi,” the man who stood there said. “Gray Fisher?”
Giving out his name or any other personal information to strangers was at about the bottom of Gray’s list.
“I’m looking for Marley Millet,” the man said. “I was told she might be with you.”
“She’s not.”
“Is that never, or not anymore?”
“It’s ‘I’m on my own right now,’ which you can see, and I don’t like people who sneak up on me. Are you a friend of Nat Archer’s?” As a tail, this guy would have a hard time. He would be difficult
not
to see.
“Never heard of him,” he said.
Tall, dark and handsome was a cliché, but it described the dark-haired, blue-eyed man Gray was looking at.
“Where do you live?” the other man asked.
“I didn’t tell you my name when you asked. What makes you think you’ll get my address?”
“Worth a try.”
Gray rolled to lean his back on the car. He crossed his arms. “Who are you?”
“Sykes Millet.”
Not one response came to mind.
“Marley’s brother. Her only brother,” the guy said.
Gray straightened up and slowly extended a hand. “Gray Fisher.”
“Yes, I know.” Sykes Millet shook Gray’s hand.
“Uh-huh. You already said so. Marley left.”
Sykes smiled very faintly. “Mmm. I’m very fond of my sister.”
Gray wasn’t slow. “It must be nice to have siblings you get along with.” He was being warned off—or at least told his intentions had better be honorable.
“You don’t have any family?”
“Just my dad.” As far as he knew, and it was none of Millet’s business.
“Are you married?”
Shit.
“No. Never did get around to that. You?”
Sykes laughed and Greek gods came to Gray’s mind.
Now he was getting fanciful. He had better watch himself if he kept on hanging around with the mystical Marley.
“I take it that’s a no,” Gray said.
“You take it right,” Sykes said. “I watch out for Marley.”
Gray didn’t doubt it if this “call” was typical for Sykes. “That’s a good thing.”
“You used to be a cop.”
“I’m starting to think everyone either was or is a cop. You’ve been doing a little investigating yourself.”
“That’s a yes?” Sykes said.
With a sigh, Gray said, “Yes.”
“Now you’re a writer.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t get too deeply into my siblings’ affairs,” Sykes said.
Unfortunately I’m not having an affair with Marley.
The car was heating up against Gray’s back. He stayed put. “I’m a big believer in respecting personal boundaries,” he said.
“I agree, unless safety is involved.”
“You’re suggesting I could be a threat to Marley?” Gray said. “Get that right out of your mind. I’m a pussycat.”
Sykes grinned. “That would be a really big cat, Gray. But I’ll trust you till you give me a reason not to.”
“You’ve got four sisters,” Gray said. The other man would assume Marley had shared family details, which she hadn’t. “How does that feel?”
“Crowded sometimes,” Sykes told him. “Very female and emotional. I like it. I like them.”
Sykes didn’t look like Marley. There wasn’t a hint of red in the man’s hair that Gray could see. But the manner reminded him of Marley. Self-assured and with a quick mouth, but someone you wanted to know better.
“Marley always knows she can call on me,” Sykes said. “We make sure we look out for one another—all of us.”
“Nice,” Gray said.
“I thought you’d like to know that.” Sykes smiled broadly. “If you see her before I do, give her my love.”
Gray nodded.
“Hey, Fisher!” Nat strode from the Caged Bird. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
With his hands in his pockets, Gray dodged a kid on a skateboard and walked to meet Nat.
“You are one meddlin’ son of a gun,” Nat said. “You knew Pipes wasn’t in there anymore. Why didn’t you say so up front?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Does obstruction ring a bell with you?” Nat said.
“It might if it was relevant. You’ve been on my case since I walked into your office yesterday. I’m one of the good guys, Nat.”
Nat passed a hand over his face. “This one is getting to me,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve got people on my case in every direction. They think things are moving fast so I should sew it all up fast. I hate dealing with politicians.”
Gray didn’t have to ask who Nat was talking about. In New Orleans there were plenty of folks looking out for their elected positions and with women dropping out of sight, or showing up as alligator bait, public pressure would be running high.
“Bucky’s bringing Bernie out,” Nat said. “He’s got a big mouth, but he doesn’t say anythin’ unless it’s to his benefit.”
“That pretty much sums up Bernie,” Gray said. He was aware of Sykes behind him, but didn’t want to introduce him to Nat.
Bucky Fist arrived with a sullen-looking Bernie in tow.
“You can’t just haul me in like this,” Bernie said. “I haven’t done anything.”
“We’re gonna make sure of a few things,” Bucky said.
“Like what?”
“If your dancing permit’s in order,” Bucky said, grinning.
Bernie shook his head heavily from side to side. “You are shitting me.”
“Would we do that?” Nat asked.
“There
ain’t
no dancing at the Bird,” Bernie said. “Except for invitational and I don’t need no permit for that. I don’t need no more permits at all. I got permits comin’ out my ears.”
“Invitational dancing?” Nat asked.
“The cages are open,” Bernie said with a shrug. “Anyone feels like climbing in there and strutting their stuff, they can consider themselves invited.”
“Get in.” Nat opened the back door of the cruiser and let Bucky deal with settling their guest.
“Dancing permit?” Gray said.
“Bernie thinks he’s got a right to know everything and share nothing,” Nat said. He narrowed his eyes at Gray. “Maybe he isn’t the only one.”
Nat hopped into the car beside Bucky and they drove off.
“Sorry about that,” Gray said, turning toward Sykes Millet.
There was no sign of him.
Gray looked up and down the sidewalk. A man like Sykes shouldn’t be hard to spot—if he was around. Gray hadn’t seen him move from the spot where he’d left him.