Ghost Walk. Heather Graham
you know that this will come up,” Mitch reminded her. He offered her an ironic smile. Mitch wasn’t as dramatic a guide as either Julian or Nathan, but his knowledge of the area was inexhaustible. He had a wonderful all-American, corn-fed look, ash-blond, flyaway hair, bright blue eyes, handsome face. He was very popular with the younger crowd. Nikki was certain that they often had repeat local customers just because a certain teenage crowd loved to follow him around the city.
He frowned, looking at her suddenly. “We will never, ever mention Andy,” he agreed. He hesitated, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, you knew her much better than we did. She was only with us a few weeks…. Nikki, are you doing all right?”
She nodded.
“I think one of us should come stay with you,” he said firmly.
She shook her head. “Thanks, Mitch. Julian has been hanging around for me.” She stared at them all. “Okay, I’m telling you, and I mean it. I’m convinced that someone forced that heroin on Andy. Whether it had to do with her past or not, I don’t know. But also, I’m okay, and I don’t need my friends to babysit me. But thanks.”
“Well, I don’t know how you’re living alone,” Patricia said, flipping aside a length of her long dark hair. She glanced sideways at Nathan, who was saying goodbye to the last of their comourners. She grinned suddenly. “I was wondering if maybe Nathan and I weren’t making a mistake…rushing to live with one another. Now I thank God every minute that we’re living together. Because those drugs came from somewhere. From someone. I just think I’d be pretty miserable and scared right now, if I were alone.”
“Hey, you two are just right for each other,” Nikki commented. “And that’s why it’s good that you’re living together. Anyway, I’m going to shake this off. It’s just that it’s only been a few days. But I’m not going to turn into a coward. I’m going to be proactive and bug the police until they discover her murderer—don’t look at me like that. There was a murderer. That’s the least I can do for her.”
“One way or another, I agree with Nikki. Whether someone just pushed the purchase on the streets or plunged the needle into her vein, someone caused Andy’s death. And for the sake of everyone in the parish, we need to know who. We’ll all work on that, right, guys?” Mitch asked.
They all nodded.
“And by the way,” Julian said, “I am staying with you tonight, Nikki.”
“Julian, I’m all right.”
“And so am I. But I think we ought to be all right together.”
“The bed in the guest room is as hard as a rock. You said so yourself,” Nikki reminded him.
“Honey, I’m all in. Tonight, I could sleep on a real rock just fine.”
She was about to protest again, then sighed. “Okay, thanks. I guess, tonight, I’ll be glad of the company.”
The two of them were the last out of Madame D’Orso’s. Julian decided they should walk Madame home first. It was around midnight, which in New Orleans, in the Vieux Carré, wasn’t all that late. Madame said that they really didn’t need to walk her anywhere, there were plenty of police about and the streets were crowded.
Julian, however, told her that they could use the walk anyway. The night was beautiful, with fall just beginning. The oppressive humidity that could press down on the city had lightened.
“Hey, it’s a nice night just for being alive,” he said cheerfully, then winced.
Nikki slipped an arm through his. “Hey, don’t worry. I don’t want to spend my days walking on eggshells, worrying about every word that comes out of my mouth. It is a beautiful night—and a great night to be alive.”
They walked Madame the few blocks to her place, then turned and started back toward Bourbon Street.
“Want a nightcap or anything?” Julian asked, a brotherly arm around her shoulder.
She shook her head. “Honestly, you know what’s strange? I’ve never been much of a drinker, and I had such a bad hangover the day we found out about Andy that I just haven’t wanted anything since.”
“Maybe you need a hair of the dog that bit you,” Julian said.
“Actually, I’d like to get home. I haven’t been sleeping much.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Lots of people in your position would be on sedatives, you know. I mean, you hired her. You two bonded right away. And you had to deal with trying to find out if there was someone to contact, and then arrange the funeral and all…well, that’s a tough load. And it’s tough just to have known someone who was…murdered.”
“The rest of you seem to be doing all right.”
“Like I said, you two kind of bonded. You and Andy, well, you were both orphans. You had that in common.”
“I had my grandparents, at least,” Nikki said. “Cousins, aunts and uncles…though they’ve mostly moved pretty far away these days. But I had family. Andy didn’t have even that.”
“She had us. We were family,” Julian assured her. “Well, we would have been,” he said.
They reached the iron gate in the brick wall that surrounded Nikki’s place. “What is the trick to this damn thing?” he muttered.
“The latch is under and over. It’s not a lock, it just keeps the curious out,” Nikki said. She bit her lip, wanting to reach over and open it herself, but Julian seemed determined. She folded her arms across her chest, looking around.
It was always amazing how life went on.
A couple, arm in arm, strolled leisurely down the street, leaning toward one another. He was ebony. She was ivory. Nikki smiled, loving the ease with which people lived their lives in New Orleans now. There had been a time when old “Beast” Butler had ruled the city, but that was long ago. They were on the move here now.
A rowdy group of young men walked along the street, then paused nearby, drinks in hand, talking about a sax player who was working down on the square.
More couples strolled along.
A larger group of young men joined the first.
“Damn this thing, but I will get it,” Julian said, determined.
Nikki barely heard him. She straightened against the brick wall.
There was someone in the midst of the group in the street, but he wasn’t one of them. He was shaggy-haired. Clothes wrinkled, worn. He turned toward her.
Handsome face…
Beneath the scraggly growth of beard.
He stared at her as if he recognized her.
And she stared back, certainly recognizing him.
She swung around, tapping hard on Julian’s shoulder. “Julian…Julian. Turn around quick. I just saw him.”
“Him, who?”
Julian turned to her, confused.
“The bum who was at Madame’s that day.”
“Where?”
“He’s there—in that group of college guys,” she declared.
Julian stared out to the street and searched the clean-shaven faces. So did she.
“Where?” Julian said.
“There, in the middle of them,” Nikki announced. She ran into the street, into the midst of the ten or so young men.
“Hey!” said one, almost falling into her.
“Hi, there, babe,” another slurred. He cast an arm sloppily around her shoulder.
“Hey, get your hands off her,” Julian demanded forcefully.