Color Me Dead Read online

  “Thank you.”

  I handed the woman one of my own business cards, the ones that had been printed with the wrong phone number. Just before we left, as a last minute gesture to the business end of these shows, I’d grabbed a handful, crossed out the number, and written in the correct number in by hand. “Drop in and get your nails done some time.”

  “Certainly,” the woman said brightly. “The next time I’m in…” she stared at the card, “Knockemstiff. It really says that.”

  “Between Shreveport and Rayville, just off I-70.”

  “I’ll be sure to Google it,” she said, and wandered off.

  “That was fun,” Nellie said.

  “Any regret you didn’t take the offer seriously?”

  Nellie grinned. “Who says I didn’t take it seriously? There were about thirty seconds there when I thought I could take the job and just not tell Rudy. I’d pack a bag and sneak out.”

  “He’d notice sooner or later.”

  “I suppose so, but he’d never look for me in Atlanta.”

  “And you would go nuts without those kids.”

  “That’s what dawned on me at thirty one seconds.”

  I put a hand on Nellie’s shoulder. “But for those thirty glorious seconds…”

  Nellie sighed. “I was free.” Then she turned to me. “I want to go back to the room and call home. Again. Then I think we have a date for a free drink and a surprise.”

  “That we do. Back to the hotel then.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Nellie and I headed up to the room to change clothes for going out on the town. As we reached the elevator, Victoria came up to us. I thought she looked stressed.

  “We almost made good our escape,” Nellie whispered.

  “Savannah, sweetie, I need to talk to you in private.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I think something is damn well wrong. Can you meet me in meeting room 23A tomorrow morning after breakfast?”

  “I suppose so.” As annoying as Victoria could be, it seemed like she needed help, or someone to talk to. From what I’d seen so far, it didn’t seem that she’d gained any new friends since I’d left, and certainly had acquired a few new enemies. I didn’t like feeling obligated, but I did.

  Victoria kissed my cheek. “Thank you.”

  “You’re worried.”

  “I am.”

  “Is it something about the competition?”

  A hint of surprise flickered in her eyes, then Victoria’s lips twisted in a snarl. “Yes, but it’s a more vicious part of it, that is behind the scenes.” Her laugh was hollow. “I’m having to catch someone out doing something very nasty and I need your help.”

  That part was intriguing, but not enough to make me willing to give up an evening with James. “I’d give you time now, but I have plans.”

  “She has a date,” Nellie said.

  Victoria glanced at Nellie and scowled. “Well you go have a nice evening with your young man and I’ll tell you everything in the morning.”

  “Fine.” As she strode away, I let out a sigh of relief.

  The door chimed as the elevator arrived and Nellie grinned. “Your young man?”

  “When she heard I’d sponsored Pete for the contest, she managed to convince herself that I’m sleeping with him. She thinks I like having Pete owe me and that this is a way to keep him interested.”

  Nellie roared. “That is perfect. Does Pete know you two are having an affair?”

  “Not so you’d notice.”

  “That she jumped to that conclusion says a lot about her own life—all of it sad.” It did. “So despite how little she thinks of you, you just signed on to get an earful right after breakfast.”

  “I did. I’m just happy she didn’t try to invite herself along this evening or insist that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow. I have a hunch that whatever she tells me will take time and then demand some sort of action on my part. She wouldn’t come to me for advice.”

  “I understand that! Having her along would definitely put a damper on the evening, wouldn’t it? I mean, I get the impression that her idea of fun runs to torturing small animals.”

  “She isn’t that mean.”

  “Probably not, but I sure believe she’d like people to think she is.”

  I didn’t answer that one—there was too much truth in it.

  # # #

  “Where is Leander?” Nellie asked Pete. “Do we need to wait for him?”

  “No. He said he had to go to a meeting. It’s was all kind of mysterious, but I guess it has to be good when a man wants to talk with him about a gig here in the city.”

  Betina was beaming. “It’s fantastic.”

  “And New Orleans is a mysterious place,” I said.

  Pete didn’t look so certain. “He’d like to play in the Big Easy more often, but so does everyone else.”

  “But he is so good,” Betina said. “All they have to do is hear him.”

  “The reality is that there are hundreds of incredibly talented performers in this town scrambling to get the jobs that are open. Some musicians make a career out of playing four nights a week in the same club. I don’t want him getting his hopes up if there’s no real chance.” He looked uncomfortable. “The thing is, I also have to wonder what happens to us if he got a regular gig here.”

  I understood that dilemma all too well. “So he is auditioning?”

  “I’m not sure exactly what’s going on. This might be just talking with an agent or someone he’s auditioned for already. At any rate, if he gets done early enough, he’ll catch up with us. I told him the plan.”

  “Ah yes, the plan.”

  The plan, such as it was, consisted of Nellie, Pete and Betina accompanying me to meet Woodley for a drink at a bar he recommended on Bourbon Street. After that, and whatever Woodley had in mind, they’d be on their own.

  I was looking forward to dinner with him—alone.

  “Since we are waaay early, let’s see some of the quarter,” Betina said.

  “Anything special you want to see?” Nellie asked.

  “Marie Laveau’s House Of Voodoo would be fun.”

  “Voodoo and fun go together?” I asked.

  “You do know she’s talking about tourist stuff, Savannah,” Nellie said. “This isn’t the creepy bad voodoo.”

  “And if we walk down Royal a ways, then cross over we will be right near it. It’s open late.”

  “Betina has been memorizing the map of the Quarter,” Pete said.

  She nodded. “I don’t want to miss anything. We don’t get much excitement in Knockemstiff. And it is a lovely evening.”

  That was true. It was warm and lovely. We strolled down Royal Street for a time just gawking as tourists do. Royal parallels Bourbon Street. Many of the clubs were just opening, and some wouldn’t even open until much later. “The bars can have any hours they want in New Orleans,” Betina said. “Some are open twenty-four hours a day.”

  There was a wide array of bars and clubs. Naturally many of them focused on Cajun music or Dixieland jazz. As night came on, the level of excitement built. I found some of what I saw a little risqué for my tastes. There were promotions of burlesque and peep shows. I was curious, but not enough to want to go inside.

  As it turned out, I didn’t have to. On such a lovely night many of the clubs had doors and windows open and as we walked past one club we could see in through wide open double doors. “Those people are naked,” I said, pointing through the door at a young man and woman dancing on the bar.

  “People do that,” Nellie said. She sounded unimpressed. Pete and Betina seemed to be enjoying the view and I suddenly felt like the class prude. The truth was that the sight of nudity in the bars didn’t shock me so much as surprise me. Of course it also made me wonder what else went on in those places that we couldn’t see. I wasn’t tempted to go inside though, and I think that was the point.

  “All these places have fancy drinks,” Betina said. “Bet
you could sell a ton of Bayou Shine in the Quarter,” she told Nellie. She pointed to a sign that listed a lot of fancy drinks. “And at those prices make a fortune doing it.”

  Nellie nodded. Bayou Shine was her family’s brand of artisanal moonshine, now officially licensed by the State of New Orleans. “We don’t make enough quantity to supply these places. But maybe… if we put another still…”

  With Nellie lost in thought, I found myself fascinated at the way the Karaoke bars like Cat’s Meow were mixed in with the strip clubs and tourist shops. There seemed to be little rhyme or reason to it. Perhaps that was part of the charm—the chaos. People noisily thronged the streets, watching other people, drinking, singing, dancing, and going in and out of the bars for drinks and music. The crowd brought a ready-to-party atmosphere to the Quarter and the place encouraged it.

  “You can drink anywhere here,” Pete said. “I read that the bars offer to-go plastic cups for drinks.”

  “Wow, then we could buy a drink and walk down the street sipping it,” Betina said, her eyes sparkling. “I could get used to a city like this.”

  “It comes at a price,” Nellie said. “You have to be in the city during the regular work and shopping times, which means dealing with traffic and crowds.”

  Sensing she was experiencing another bout of city sickness, I took her arm. “You know what you like. I’ll put off getting a drink until we meet up with James.” I’m not a big drinker but I intended to drink with him.

  “Well we are at Bourbon Street,” Betina said. She pointed. “And Marie Laveau's is right over there. That’s where I’m going.”

  “I’m going to meet James,” I said. “If he’s not there yet, I can sit down and wait.”

  “Me too,” Nellie said. “After wandering around that show, I’ve done enough walking on pavement for a day.”

  “I’ll go with you, Bet,” Pete said. “I’d like to see what that voodoo stuff is all about.”

  So we separated. “The bar is just two blocks down,” Betina told them. “On your right.”

  I laughed. “You’ll meet us there?”

  “Sure,” Pete said. “After voodoo I’m sure we will want a drink.”

  # # #

  Bourbon Street was interesting in the same crazy, noisy, confused way that Royal had been. When I’d imagined walking through the Quarter, somehow it hadn’t occurred to me that I’d be walking along a rather narrow one-way street. Somehow I’d imagined a broad cobblestone thoroughfare.

  “There it is,” Nellie said, pointing.

  She was right. Perched comfortably on the street sat Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop Bar.

  Three sets of double doors made the space between the interior of the bar and the patio in front, where people sat in chairs, seem wide open. The place had small tables and when we went inside we found James sitting with two pulled together.

  “Where is everyone?” he said, getting up to greet us. The kiss he gave me was casual, but still it made my heart race. Being near him, touching him, did that.

  Nellie chuckled. “They stopped off for voodoo souvenirs.”

  James pulled out chairs for them. “That’s what people do in the Quarter.”

  “When they aren’t dancing naked,” Nellie said.

  James arched his eyebrows. “There are lots of ideas of fun.”

  “Of all the places we’ve seen, this is the nicest,” Nellie said.

  Her comment made me flinch. She was right, but I’d wanted to be the first one to thank James for picking it out.

  “What charm this place has,” she said.

  Clearly James Woodley was happy we liked it. “I thought you might enjoy it.” A waitress came and took their orders. “It’s a special place. The structure and the fence are in the old French Provincial Louis XV or Briquette-Entre-Poteauxe style.” He grinned. “I think that means bricks between posts or something equally elegant.”

  “Sounds better in French,” I said.

  “Things sound classier when you don’t know what they really mean,” Nellie said. “That’s a good argument for not learning any other languages. Why take away the mystery?”

  “Tell me more about this place,” I said. I just wanted to hear James talk.

  “Really? Okay, it was built sometime between 1722 and 1732. It’s said to be the oldest structure used as a bar in the United States.”

  “Someone has read the placemat,” Nellie said.

  Woodley grinned. “Call it research by someone who likes this bar.” He nodded toward the back wall and they saw it was a piano bar. “They have good music. Not a full band usually.”

  After a bit Betina and Pete came in excitedly. “We found a cool charm that guarantees Pete will win tomorrow.”

  James signaled their waitress and she came over to get the newcomers’ orders.

  “That works unless someone else bought two of them,” Nellie said.

  “Guess someone didn’t take their antigrumpy supplements today,” Betina said. “And I got this.” She held up her wrist and showed them an intricately beaded bracelet. “If I wear it tomorrow they promised that Pete won’t be able to make me anything but gorgeous.”

  “I don’t think he could do that under any circumstances,” Woodley said. “You are gorgeous and he is a brilliant stylist.”

  Betina blushed. She and Woodley had dated once the first time Woodley had come to Knockemstiff. They’d decided they weren’t an ideal couple but still liked each other. After that he seem to decide that I was more his type. Every once in a while something happened that recalled that little bit of well-known history.

  “Thank you,” she said. Betina took compliments seriously.

  After a while there was a shuffling over by the piano bar. “The music is going to start,” I said.

  A thin long-haired man took a seat at the piano and played a chord. “Ladies and gentlemen, Welcome to Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop Bar. I’m Marshall Hall and tonight I have a special guest joining me for this first set. Would you please welcome an exciting bluesman… I’m happy to present my new friend, Leander.”

  I glanced at Pete and saw a shock of pleasure light up his face. “I didn’t know…”

  As Leander pulled up a stool in front of an amplifier, he plugged in an electric guitar. “Wow, I’ve never heard him play one of those,” Pete said. “This will be interesting.”

  Leander pulled a mike stand close and looked out over the audience. “I’ve asked Marshall to help me out debuting a brand new tune, written especially for guitar and piano, but mostly for a special person. He is taking part in a competition tomorrow and I want him to know he’s not the only one willing to take a chance in public. This tune is called ‘Blues for Pete D’.”

  Pete let out a little gasp as the two musicians began a slow minor blues that grabbed everyone in the room from the first, sweet note.

  “Pete just died and went to heaven,” Nellie whispered. Looking at him, I had to agree. James was lost in the music for the moment as well. I loved good music, but it never really swept me off my feet. But here were three quite different men—Leander, Pete, and James— all transported by it. I found that intriguing.

  As the duo drifted into a set of old blues standards, the audience was loving it too.

  “So later we are going somewhere for dinner?” I asked between numbers. The truth was that I was starving.

  “Right after this set. I’ve got reservations for the two of us at a place that makes a bayou crab chowder that will make you think you’ll never want to eat anything else.”

  “That’s a good way to lose weight,” Nellie said, “seeing that she won’t be able to get it in Knockemstiff.”

  I grinned. “Or a sneaky way to lure someone to live in the Crescent City.”

  Woodley shrugged. “Well, New Orleans is a fine place to live.” He paused, looking at my face as if he was waiting for something. “In my opinion, at least.”

  At the best of times, times like this, being around James Woodley presented me with a bas
ic dilemma. He was a good man, and I cared for him, but it was always clear that he belonged here in the Big Easy. This was his world. While I did enjoy what the city had to offer and could even find it stimulating, my world was in Knockemstiff. Round and round went my poor brain and heart. A good man who cared about you was a rare and wonderful find, but I had my business and I had Sarah. Being honest, the major attraction of the city was sitting across the table from me now, watching her.

  I still didn’t know what made Investigator James Woodley tick, what being involved with him would mean. That left me in the bittersweet situation of enjoying his company while dealing with mixed feelings and uncertainties that weren’t likely to be resolved anytime soon.

  Stop that.

  Here and now was a moment to enjoy. Letting myself spin fantasies or worry about potential problems would only waste this precious evening. So I let the music wash over me and soon it began to seep into my bones, my core. It was emotional—tugging at me and caressing my spirit.

  When the set ended there was a sense of loss. When Leander joined us at the table, beaming with happiness, I congratulated him. “The music was never better,” I said with an honesty that increased the wattage of his intense smile even more. And then, without breaking the spell, James said, “It’s time to go.” Then we said good night and he took my arm and led me out to walk down Bourbon Street toward this marvelous restaurant and bayou crab chowder.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I got up early. I woke feeling wide awake and took stock of where I was. The hotel room felt confining. In the next bed Nellie slept soundly. She looked so peaceful that I decided I’d get dressed and go downstairs. The hotel had delivered a free newspaper, slipping it under the room door. I scooped it up and carried it with me, to take it to the coffee shop and have a cup of coffee. Sooner or later the others would filter down and join me.

  As I went into the hall and shut the door carefully behind me, I saw Betina doing the same.

  “Another early riser,” I said.

  She gave me an embarrassed grin. “Deliberately. I need some time away from Pete,” she said. “I love the guy but he’ll wake up worrying about the competition. I’m sick of hearing about it, to be honest.”