Vieux Carré Voodoo (24 page)

I slipped out of bed and crept noiselessly to my closet. I
reached inside and grabbed my baseball bat.

I had just put my hands on it when I heard my front door
open.

Didn’t I lock it?
I swore at myself.

Thunder roared again as I heard someone moving in the
hallway.

I crept over to my bedroom door and listened as the intruder
walked past my door. I turned the knob slowly and let the door ease open. I
stepped into the hallway quickly, raising the bat as I—

“Frank?”

He turned around with a huge smile on his face. “Surprise!”
He dropped the suitcase in his right hand and took a step toward me. He stopped,
and the big smile faded into a frown. “What are you doing with the baseball
bat?”

I sagged against the wall in relief. The bat slid out of my
hands and hit the floor with a loud crash. I launched myself at him, throwing my
arms around him, and in spite of myself, I started laughing and crying at the
same time. He hugged me back, stroking my back. His strong arms felt so good
around me, and the warmth from his body seemed to chase the chill from my own.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he whispered, kissing my forehead and
squeezing me tighter. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m here. What’s going on?”

“Oh, Frank—I don’t even know where to start.” I let go and
smiled at him, wiping at my eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He grinned down at me. “A pipe burst in the training room.
It’s going to be about two weeks before we can get back to work again, so I
thought I’d surprise you and come home.” His forehead wrinkled. “Now, tell me.
What’s going on?”

“Where do I even start?” I closed my eyes and rested my head
against his strong chest. I bit my lip.
Oh dear, how am I going to explain
Colin being here before he goes completely insane?
Frank had a temper. He
could keep it under control most of the time—that FBI training—but when he lost
it, it was something to see. And he was sure as hell going to lose his temper
the minute he saw Colin sleeping on the couch. “Um, I have a lot to tell you.
Promise me you won’t get mad or do anything crazy until I tell you everything.”

His blue eyes narrowed. “Scotty—” he said. He took a deep
breath, and I could tell he was counting to ten.

I took a deep breath, and said, “Colin’s here.”

His eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head to one side. “Oh,
really? Where?”

I grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway. “Please,
please don’t lose your temper. Stay calm, okay?” I said, reaching over and
flicking on the light switch. The chandelier filled the room with light—

—and it was empty.

“What the hell?” I said, turning in every direction just to
make sure. He was gone. The kitchen was empty. I left Frank standing there and
opened the door to the spare bedroom. It, too, was empty.
Now, what is—
Realization dawned on me.

Shit, shit, shit!
I thought, dashing over to my
desk. I pulled open the center drawer.

I sighed in relief. The riddle was still there.

“Now, where the hell did he go?” I scratched my head. His
habit of disappearing was really quite annoying. I turned back to Frank. “He was
here.”

“I believe you. Somehow I always knew he was going to turn
up again.” Frank folded his arms and shook his head. “Okay, I’m listening.” He
was wearing a black sweater over a pair of jeans. Frank had always been in
amazing shape, but pro wrestling training certainly agreed with him. His muscles
were thicker, and his waist had narrowed a bit. The sweater was straining at the
shoulder seams, and it looked like his upper arms were going to rip through the
wool at any moment. He was also a lot darker—he’d told me he’d been using a
tanning bed every day since he’d left.

He looked incredible. After all this was over, we were going
to have some
fun.

I put my lusty thoughts aside. “You better sit down. You
want some coffee or something?”

“I don’t need anything, thanks.” He walked into the living
room and sat down on the couch. “I’m fine. Come on, just tell me everything and
get it over with.” He crossed his legs. He patted the sofa next to him, and gave
me a wink. “Come on, Scotty, sit down and tell Hot Daddy everything.”

He’s certainly taking this better than I thought he
would,
I thought, taking a deep breath and sitting down next to him on the
couch. “Well—it all started yesterday”—
Goddess, was it just yesterday?
—“when
I was on my way to the Gay Easter Parade…”

His facial expression didn’t change at all as I went over
everything that happened since I left the house yesterday in that ridiculous
bunny costume. As I listened to what I was saying, the whole thing sounded
preposterous. His jaw was clenched the entire time, and a muscle twitched just
below the scar on his cheek—but other than that, he didn’t react at all. His
lack of reaction made me nervous and I started talking faster and faster. “And
then you came in—and he’s not here,” I concluded.

He frowned and didn’t say anything for a few moments. He
bounced his right fist on his leg, and said, “So, your visions have come back?”

What?
That was it? I stared at him. I’d been expecting an explosion, and this
unnatural calm was a bit unnerving. “Um, yeah. I’ve had two for sure, and that
maybe one yesterday during the parade.” I shuddered. “The one I just had—Frank,
I can’t even begin to tell you how awful it was.” I closed my eyes and wrapped
my arms around myself. “I’ve never had one like that before.”

He grabbed my face with both hands, and tilted my head back.
“And this is where that guy stabbed you?” His voice was calm and soothing.
“Thank God that was all he did.” He kissed my throat just above the scab. “Good
thing I came home.” He then kissed me on the lips. “I’ve really missed you.”

“You have no idea how many times I’ve wished you were here.”
I snuggled up against him. Oh, he felt so damned good. “And Colin? You’re okay
with him being in town? You’re not going to try to kill him or something, are
you?”

He looked deep into my eyes, and shook his head. “What good
would that do?” He shrugged. “I decided—I thought we
both
decided—a
long time ago that no matter what, we weren’t going to let him or what he does
change us in any way, or affect who we are as people.” He shrugged. “Would I
prefer he never came back? Sure. I’d prefer not to see him again, or ever speak
to him. But it sounds to me like”—he hesitated for a moment—“he might need our
help this time, and if all this stuff about the uranium…” He slid his arm around
my shoulders and I leaned down into him. “Man, I thought I was done with this
kind of shit when I retired from the FBI.” He kissed the top of my head. “And
that’s really what’s important here, isn’t it? Finding that Eye sapphire and
making sure terrorists don’t get a hold of that stuff?” He squeezed me again,
rubbing my shoulder as he did so. “We can put our personal feelings aside until
we have this whole thing wrapped up.”

“Oh, I don’t know that he needs our help all that much,” I
said. “I know he’s not telling me everything. And I’m not positive he didn’t
kill Levi, or the Wolf, or whoever he was.” I closed my eyes and listened to his
heartbeat. It was soothing. Man, I’d missed him.

“Why don’t you get the riddle and we can try to solve it?”
He stroked the top of my head.

“All right.” I got up and retrieved it from the desk drawer,
sitting back down on the couch with my legs across his lap. “Okay, the first
line is
From Pleshiwar to the parish of the maid
… It’s pretty safe to
assume that refers to the Eye—it came from Pleshiwar to New Orleans.” I frowned
as I looked at the next line. “Okay,
Who saved a city and was burned down to
ash—
I mean, obviously that’s Joan of Arc—the Maid of Orleans. But we
already know the Eye is here, so why bring her up again?”

“It’s a second clue, maybe.” Frank started stroking my
shoulder. “Obviously, the riddle is directions to where Doc hid the eye—and he
intended for you to be able to figure it out. So, my guess would be it’s
intentional, not a repetition—maybe the St. Joan statue on Decatur Street is the
starting place.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “So, if the statue is the
starting place…” I thought for a minute. “
To the park where so many still
ply their trade—
that’s got to be Jackson Square.” I smiled to myself. The
statue of Joan of Arc was on Decatur Street where it split. Right up the street
from the statue of St. Joan was Jackson Square. The pedestrian mall on the other
three sides of the square was always full of artists, mimes, and fortunetellers.

The spires of the saint.

St. Louis Cathedral, of course. I grinned.
Always asking
for cash.
That was Doc, all right. About ten years earlier, the cathedral
had needed a facelift. The Archdiocese had gone on a fund-raising tear and
appealed to the citizenry of New Orleans for help. The basis of the appeal was
that the cathedral was perhaps the most famous landmark of the city, and it
really belonged to the whole city. Ergo, the city had a responsibility to help
keep it up.

Doc had been
furious.

“The goddamned cathedral
does not
belong to the
city,” he’d raged one night over bourbon and cigars at my parents’. “It’s a
working Catholic church, and why is it the responsibility of the city and the
people who live here to pay for the upkeep on a goddamned Catholic church? Why
don’t they just ask the pope to sell a fucking painting? I am sure the Vatican
could spare one of its treasures to keep up the Cathedral. But why should the
goddamned church pay for it when they can beg the people to do it for them? They
should be
ashamed
of themselves. It’s all they do—ask for money. Maybe someday they’ll get a
pope who actually reads the Bible and will drive the money changers out of the
temple.”

I smiled. Whatever else he was, Doc had certainly had some
opinions.

“Okay,” I said out loud. “You start at the statue of St.
Joan, move up Decatur to Jackson Square, and then behind the cathedral is a
statue of Jesus—
the fisher of souls—
and his arms are spread wide. So
Follow his left hand to the canopy of trees.”

The canopy of trees—what did that mean?

I concentrated harder.

“Uptown.” I opened my eyes and jumped off the sofa. In my
desk drawer, I had a map of the city.

“Uptown?” Frank got off the couch and watched me dig through
my drawer. He grinned. “Of course, the canopy of trees!”

St. Charles Avenue was lined on either side with massive
live oaks. Their huge branches reached over the street creating a canopy of
trees. And the park behind the cathedral with the statue was on Royal Street,
which became St. Charles Avenue when you crossed Canal Street on the way uptown.

I unfolded the map, but looked down at it and frowned as I
looked at it. All the streets in New Orleans followed the river—and there was a
bend in it just past the Quarter. All the streets made about a forty-five degree
turn on the other side of Canal Street. I traced a straight line from behind the
cathedral uptown. “Prytania Street,” I said out loud. Prytania Street started on
the other side of I-90 and ran uptown, ending near Audubon Park. It started in
the lower Garden District, and the cross streets that ran toward the river were
named after the Muses: Polymnia, Terpsichore, Euterpe, Clio, Urania…I followed
Prytania Street with my finger as it crossed each street named after a Muse…

The Muses. There was a line in the riddle about the
Muses.

I grinned and looked at the riddle again.

“The Muses line up, to sing with the breeze,”
I
said, sitting down in the chair. Frank came up behind me and started massaging
my shoulders, digging his strong fingers deep into the tight muscle tissue. It
felt amazing.

Like St. Charles, Prytania was also lined with live oaks on
either side. I
always
drove up Prytania when I was on my way uptown—there wasn’t as much traffic
as there was on Magazine Street or St. Charles, because both of these streets
ran to Canal Street. Magazine became Decatur when it crossed into the Quarter,
St. Charles becoming Royal.

And almost its entire length Prytania had a canopy of trees.

“The riddle wants us to go to the lower Garden District,” I
said out loud.

“And then what?” Frank asked.

“I guess we’ll have to go and see.” I looked at the riddle
again. “I have no idea what he means by
the blonds from the sea
.”

There was a blast of nearby lightning and thunder shook the
entire building. The lights went out.

“Great.” I swore under my breath as I headed for the kitchen
in the dark. I grabbed some candles from my storage cabinet and lit them.
Lightning again lit up the entire apartment as I carried them back into the
living room. I set them down on the coffee table.

Frank held the riddle close to one of the candles. He
squinted at it, and shook his head. “You know, Doc always was a bit of an
asshole.”

“That’s what Mom said,” I replied.

“Do you think this riddle really leads to where he hid the
Eye?” Frank put the riddle back down on the coffee table. He sighed. “This whole
thing seems a bit much to take—uranium, international espionage…and our very own
Colin working for an international mercenary business.” He shrugged and grinned
at me. “But I guess it’s no crazier than some of the other adventures we’ve
had.”

“Well, Doc wanted me to find it—and Kali certainly made Her
wishes pretty damned clear to me,” I replied. “And the sad thing is we don’t
really know who all the players are in this. We don’t know who killed Marty
Gretsch or Doc—or Levi, for that matter—and we don’t even know who to turn the
thing over to if we do find it.” I stood up. She would not be ignored. “Come on,
let’s go find the stupid thing.” It sucked that it was raining, but maybe the
rain would slow down the other players in this crazy game.