Chapter 1
Catherine Hurley clutched her ghost-tour costume close, bracing for the trouble that could smash her flat as roadkill.
Nothing could be as devastating as last time.
Evening shadows darkened the sidewalks, and most of the people on the French Quarter streets this time of day were either coming home or going to work. They didn’t usually hang around at the corner grocery like the guy with longish blond hair and skinny shoulders heading her way.
Lately her baby brother had been staying out of her sight, so something must be up. Cath juggled her bags and the dry cleaners’ hanger, waiting for him to get close enough to read her lips. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d come visit.” Les hitched his backpack higher and hunched his shoulders against the cold. “I don’t have any classes until next week.”
O-kay. Her held breath swooshed loose. His appearance on her doorstep did not imply disaster. “I’ve got all the fixings for spaghetti if you want supper.”
She handed him one of her grocery bags and pulled him closer to dodge a waiter in a rush to get to his shift. Her brother still flinched and stared at the guy disappearing around the corner. “What the—?”
“It’s okay.” Even with his hearing aids, Les did not hear sounds behind him. Cath gave him the hanger from the cleaners and pushed open the wrought iron gate.
The piano player in the upstairs rear apartment practiced some ragtime, its bouncy beat drifting down to the patio. She unlocked her back door and set her groceries on the kitchen table inside.
“Sorry,” she said and also signed to make sure Les understood the most important word. “I didn’t have time to warn you about the guy running down the sidewalk.”
“The sidewalk?” Her brother hooked the dry cleaning on the fridge handle. “No problem.”
“But you seemed—” To overreact. She spoke and signed her next words. “Never mind that. To what do I owe this surprise?”
“Last time I heard, there weren’t any laws against surprises.”
“True.” She nodded and signed.
“Right now, I need a place to stay.” Les raised his eyebrows in question. She held aside the bead curtain, and he followed her into the small front room. “The pipes froze this week. Then they broke when it warmed up again.”
A fairly typical New Orleans problem in the city’s old houses.
Les dropped his pack on the couch and stripped off his jacket. “If it’s too much trouble, I’ll find someplace else.”
“No you won’t.” She punched his shoulder playfully. “Everything’ll be booked now, anyway.” Mardi Gras always brought hordes of tourists to town and jacked the prices sky-high. Not that either of them had the money for him to stay in a hotel.
“You don’t mind?”
“Of course I don’t mind.” She signed, “Doesn’t matter.” Her kitten, asleep in the upholstered chair, woke and stretched. Cath stroked a hand down the cat’s back. “You should have texted me to pick you up after my bus tour.”
Les studied the framed poster on the wall. Which he’d seen many times before. He finally looked at her again and she signed, “Did you understand? I could have come to get you.”
“Yeah. I got that.” He hesitated, a hand at his ear. “Wait a minute.”
He reached behind one ear to pull off his hearing aid, and she carried the hanger with her dress for tonight’s tour to the bedroom. When she returned a minute later, Les had replaced his battery and now cradled her pet against his chest. “I didn’t call because you have a business to run. You can’t be chasing all over town because your brother’s got plumbers in his apartment.”
“Thanks.” Good to know he appreciated her situation, but Les carefully avoided mentioning the elephant in the room. She’d recently raided their rainy-day fund to bail him out. If he wanted to stay here, ground rules were in order. She glanced at his backpack and let out a pent-up breath. Her brother didn’t need rules. He needed to know she would always stand by him. “When do you have to go back to court?”
“Not today.” The kitten climbed to his shoulder and rubbed her chin against his neck.
“When?” She spoke and signed both, not wanting Les to misunderstand.
“Pretty soon.”
“I hope your lawyer can get the charge reduced. He knows you weren’t dealing, doesn’t he?”
“He better.” Indignation flared in her brother’s eyes. “But you don’t need to come this time. I’ll be okay.”
If he’d been okay the first time, he never would have been arrested.
* * *
They’d been circling the French Quarter for nearly an hour and hadn’t even parked the car, much less made an arrest.
Mitch Guidry raised his window against the hubbub of sidewalk carousers getting a jump on Fat Tuesday. “Drop me off at the address we got. Let me grab the bail skip while you drive around the block.”
“We never go in without two,” Hal yelled over the roar of a passing tour bus. “Besides, you’re too intimidating to be believable as a meter reader.”
Mitch rubbed damp palms on his thighs, taking in the blue uniform shirt and pants his brother wore. “We’re about the same size. Pull over and give me your shirt.”
“No.”
“You really think this ruse will work?”
“Long enough to get you through the door.” Hal stopped beside a sedan and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Lookie what I found.”
Mitch jumped out to stop the traffic behind them while Hal backed the SUV. Nighttime fog poured in off the Mississippi, fuzzing the neon signs of restaurants along the street and the headlights of oncoming vehicles. Visibility low. No wind. High humidity. What are you doing, Guidry? You’re not on duty.
But he definitely had a job to do properly. His three older brothers had made him a conditional member of their Big Easy Bounty Hunters firm. Operative word: conditional.
They’d censured him before. Rightly so. If he messed up tonight, they could turn their backs on him again. Mitch couldn’t let that happen. He needed his brothers and his sweet, elderly aunt more than they would ever know.
Mitch sucked in the reek of stale beer from the bars behind him and guided his brother into the parking space. Someone slammed his back. He whirled and cocked a fist, stopping only when whiskey-laden breath washed over him. Slurred words tumbled from the mouth of the drunken college student staggering in front of him.