Im sorry, she murmured uncomfortably. Damn him! She didnt need to be apologizing to him.
One thing is truewe cant undo the past. We can only do our best in the present, and hope to find the answers in the future. Dessert? Coffee? he asked her.
She shook her head. No, thank you.
Want to split a bread pudding? Its out of this world here.
She sat back, still uneasy, and totally baffled by his ability to remain so unruffled. She had been tested throughout dinner, she realized.
Im fine, thank you.
Another glass of wine? he asked.
Fine, why not?
He ordered brandy and bread pudding, and she had another glass of wine. His conversation turned casual. He talked about his love for the city; he had worked here for nearly a year when he had first joined the bureau. Things are always just a little bit different in these parts. Louisiana laws are still based on Napoleonic CodeFrench lawwhile the majority of the country is based on English law. Its not major, but there are some differences. Youll note they have parishes instead of counties.
I went to Tulane. I know that, she told him. Inane. He had her dossier.
And majored in history and philosophy, he said.
She nodded. And you?
He shrugged. I spent six years in college. I liked it. I might have stayed a college student all my life, but it doesnt pay the bills. World religions, history and psychology.
Angela frowned. Psychology, of course. You were with a Behavioral Science Unit. So, tell me, because I was thinking today that someone as involved as Regina was in preparing that home to be the perfect welcoming point for her husband wouldnt have committed suicide. And to be honest, suicide had sounded like an entirely rational explanation to me before.
Its hard to say. I didnt know her, Jackson said.
Dessert and drinks arrived. He was persuasive; she did try the bread pudding, and it was delicious. And it felt oddly intimate to share a dessert. She hadnt done so in years. Since Griffin had died.
He sipped his brandy. It does seem as if she was devoted to her husband, and as if she had determined to put her life to good use. That speaks against suicide. But then again, the loss of a child might have made her snap.
But that kind of snap? Going over a balcony? Regina asked.
Thats what were here to find out, he told her.
They left soon after. The walk back down Chartres Street was quiet; they took St. Peters up to Dauphine and crossed Bourbon once again. They were at the more subdued end of Bourbon there, but distracted, Angela had been walking a few steps ahead.
Hey, honey, wanna party? someone asked.
He was a blond frat boy. He looked harmless. He was with other blond frat boys.
She could take care of herself, she knew. But Jackson stepped forward easily, slipping an arm around her. Not tonight, but you all have a good time, and take care, he said pleasantly.
The frat boys waved and went on. Jacksons hold on her eased, but they walked next to each other.
He didnt say anything; neither did she. He knew she could have managed on her own; she knew that he had quickly defused the situation.
And then they were back. Theyd left lights on, and the house on Dauphine stood white and dignified in the moonlight, captured in shadow and in a soft glow. The windows might have been eyes, and, Angela thought, the ghosts of dozens of lost souls might have looked out from behind them, gazing at the world they had left behind.
The house wasnt evil, but evil had lived behind the facade.
Angela was suddenly certain that Regina Holloway had not committed suicide.
CHAPTER FOUR
Before retiring for the night, Jackson had done a survey of the house, studying the alarm system.
Hed learned two things: every window in the house was properly wired; and though the gate to the courtyard was wired as well, only the gate was wired. It would have been possible for someone to climb the wall into the courtyard. However, once that happened, theyd have to have the code to get through the alarm.
Even so, it was possible and probableno matter how excellent a police force might bethat someone had come over the wall. After that
It had been twilight when Regina Holloway died. A time when someone might have slipped over the wall. A time when she might have had the alarm off, since she had been out on the balcony. She might have had the doors locked, but if she had opened her bedroom doors to the balconyor if anything had been left open by one of the maidsthere would have been access to the house.
The night, however, was uneventful.
Angela Hawkins was still asleep when he came down to the kitchen. There was little there, but someone had seen to it that some basics had been stocked, so he was able to brew coffee and munch on one of the English muffins that had been left in a package in the refrigerator.
He called to set up an interview with the senator. First, he reached a secretary, and then was put through to the senators aide, Martin DuPre, and while he was asking DuPre if the senator would be available for an appointment, DuPres protective hedging came to a quick halt when the senator himself came on the line. He assured Jackson that hed be there that evening around five or fivethirty, and that their investigation was the most important issue in his life at the moment. He was glad to be in New Orleans at the moment, since the state legislature wasnt in session. He hadnt lived at the house since his wife had died; he had taken an apartment in the city.
Jackson was in the kitchen, working on notes for the investigation, when the doorbell rang.
Answering it, he discovered a young man with a guitar case strung over his shoulder and an overnight bag in his hand.
Hi, the visitor said.
Can I help you? Jackson asked.
The young man extended a hand. You have to be Jackson Crow. Im Jake Mallory. I know its kind of early, but I grew up in the Garden District, and I was awakeand here I am.
Jake. Good to meet you. Come on in.
Jackson kept his tone level, his greeting polite.
But he wondered what the hell Adam Harrison had been thinking.
Jake Mallory was tall, probably half an inch short of his own height. He had auburn, slightly long hair, an angular, welldefined face and light green eyes. His build was more lanky than bulky, but he looked as if he was about to play guitar on the streets for money. It wasnt that he looked unkempt; he was fastidious and probably extremely attractive to young women. He just didnt have the look of someone about to become part of an elite investigation unit.
If this was, in truth, an elite investigation unit.
Then, again, maybe he looked exactly the part, just because he didnt offer the customary appearance.
Jake walked in and whistled at the great entry slash ballroom. Wow. Ive heard about this place all my life. Ive never been in it. He set down his bag and let the guitar case slide slowly to the parquet.
Its quite a house, Jackson said.
Jake met his gaze. Amazing. Huge, so it seems. How was your night?
Uneventful, Jackson assured him. Want the grand tour? Or did you want to take it alone?
Either way, Jake said, shrugging and shoving his hands in his back pockets. He laughed. We used to come and stare at the place when we were kids. Dare each other to go up close and all that. There were great ghost stories about it.
Uneventful, Jackson assured him. Want the grand tour? Or did you want to take it alone?
Either way, Jake said, shrugging and shoving his hands in his back pockets. He laughed. We used to come and stare at the place when we were kids. Dare each other to go up close and all that. There were great ghost stories about it.
I know what the ghost stories say, and Ive got blueprints, but you might know a lot that I dont, Jackson said.
Jake laughed ruefully. Yep. Forgot that you probably know just about everything about me, too. I have to admit, its amazing to be here. To actually sleep here.
So, youre not afraid of ghosts, Jackson said.
Im fascinated by the possibilities! Jake said.
Jackson had read that Jake was a local boy by birth; hed also gone to school here, and gotten a music degree from Yale. Hed returned to New Orleans and worked with a musicians coalition in the city.
Adam had apparently found him fascinating because of his ability to find people. Hed been responsible for finding both survivors and those who had not survived after the summer of storms wrought their havoc on the city and its residents. Jackson wasnt sure just what his specialty was, beyond an uncanny ability to find the dead. There didnt seem to be a real investigator in his group, Angelas police training notwithstanding.
Jake looked at Jackson with a sharp and steely look in his eyes. Were all being tested, though, I assume.
Tested?
Look, Im called frequently to find the lost. So, I have to admit, Im curious about exactly why Im here. Regina Holloway isnt lost, shes dead. Everyone knows where she is. But then, you found a body last night, didnt you?
I didnt find it. Angela Hawkins found it. And how do you know about that already? Jackson asked.
I dont believe youve turned on a television or read the local paper today, Jake said.
Jackson frowned. Reporters got in on it?
Dont kid yourself. This is the Deep South, and its Louisiana. Though we have a history of corrupt politicians, sweet tea and a slow, steady lifestyle, our reporters are sharksjust like everywhere else in the country. You had police and forensics experts in here last night. That kind of thing doesnt go unnoticed, especially when its the second time its happened. Detective Devereaux had the police spokesperson give an official statement. Butwell, the speculation on what happened is far more intriguing.
Im going to need a newspaper.
Dont worrytheres one in my bag, Jake said. Ill call and get a paper delivered here every morning. That way, youll know what were up against as far as gossip goes.
Whats been written about us being in the house? Jackson asked.
Oh, just that the senator has brought in a team of investigators. People believe that hes so heartbroken, he had to do something to try to prove that his wife didnt commit suicide.
Did you know her? Jackson asked.
No. But, Ive seen her. She was really loved herejust like the senator. Hey, hes like a breath of fresh air. Especially in Louisiana. Jakes wry grin deepened. The people loved Huey Long because he shook things up and worked for every one despite his carousing. Senator Holloway, hes loved the same way. He wants big money to take care of bigmoney problems, and he wants to create work for everyone. And he was an honesttoGod family man.
There was a sharp intelligence beneath the laidback exterior of the man, Jackson thought. He might prove to be a far greater asset than Jackson had imagined at first sight.
Politicians, in one way, seem perfectly understandable, but then its always hard to tell what is lurking in their minds, theyre so accustomed to wearing masks, Jackson said.
True, but I do know New Orleans, and a lot of the players here, Jake offered.
Conversation paused. Jackson had the curious feeling that they were being watched, and he turned to see why.
Angela Hawkins looked down at them from the secondfloor landing. It struck him again that she was an exceptionally beautiful woman, far too angelic looking, really, to have been a cop. Despite last night, she retained a reserve that was no less daunting than a suit of armor. Though beneath it all, he sensed her capable of a smile that would light the world. Studying her personality was an intriguing and appealing concept.
Hi, there! Jake called to her.
Angela, Jake, Jake, Angela.
So, how did you sleep? Any ghosts prowling the halls? Jake asked. He might have been asking her if a shopping mall had been busy.
I was out like a light last night, she told him. Welcome to the crew!
Jake smiled at her. And Angela returned it. They seemed to have an instant, easy rapport. He was surprised to find himself envious.
Thanks. Its good to be here.
I can get Jake up to speed on what I know about the house, Angela offered.
Sure. Hmm. He heard the tension in his voice. What he was feeling was ridiculous; they were peers. He knew better than to feel a macho, egodriven need to be the divine leader, most respected and most admiredand liked. He found himself thinking about his last team; they had worked so well together for so long. Each member with his or her own specialty and all of them learning to work like a welloiled machine. But, he had to remember, theyd been together five years. This was a new team; despite his lingering feelings of pain for his last coworkers, he had to make himself start fresh, and give each member of this new team a chance to fall injust as he had to learn to lead again, as smoothly as he had in the past.
Sure, he said again. That will be great.
He almost managed to laugh at himself as he headed back to the kitchen, to finish the notes he had been making after his conversation with Andy Devereaux, and after they had discovered the bones of Madden C. Newtons probable first New Orleans victim.
Almost. It was one thing to understand the way the human mind worked. It was another to buck against it when you were the human in question.
I play a lot on Frenchman Street, Jake told Angela. Things have changed a lot since our season of storms. The demographics in the city have changed, and its kind of like a movement for survival. Lets face it, the history here is great, but tons of the tourism comes because of Bourbon Street, for people to have a good time in the old Big Easy. So, now, you dont hear all the different stuff you used to hearwell, not as much. The bars on Bourbon mostly have popJourney, Bon Jovi, hardhitting fast stuff. Of course, everything is a contradiction. Next thing you know, the best sax player known to man will show up working at one of the tourist places!
Its always been a city of contradictions, Angela assured him, liking the young man very much.
You know it well? he asked, arching a brow as she led them at last to the entertainment slash family room. He sat at the end of the sofa and she perched at the other, winding her legs beneath her as she faced him.
From college, she told him. I grew up in Virginia, but I absolutely love New Orleans, so it does feel just a little bit like coming home. Despite the gruesome reason.
So, tell me, Miss Hawkins, what do you do? he asked.
She hesitated. I guess Im a finder, too. Thats what you do, right?