It wasn’t quite noon when Titia got out of bed. As we hadn’t bothered closing the curtain over the balcony door, late morning sun radiated in through the hanging ferns. Kisses was locked outside and tapping on the door for us to let her in.
“What a beautiful kitty,” she said, cradling the cat in her bare arms.
“Now I have two beautiful girls in my bed.”
“What time is it?”
“From the sound of the people on the sidewalk, I’d say it’s getting close to lunch time.”
“I have to go,” she said.
Our clothes, laid victim to our passion, were strewn across the floor. Titia gathered them in her arms, and then rushed into the bathroom.
“Please don’t go,” I said.
She was already using her cell phone to call a taxi. “I have to. Sorry.”
Bertram was standing in the hall when she hurried out the door.
“Damn, Cowboy, that was one fine looking woman. You surprise even me sometimes.”
“Throw me that robe,” I said.
Grabbing the garment, I wrapped it around me and padded to the bathroom. Bertram was still in the doorway when I returned.
“I thought you was dead up here. I didn’t see you come in last night.”
“Are you my mother now?”
“Dirty job, but somebody’s gotta do it,” he said.
“Bertram, you’re worse than a little old lady. You don’t have to snoop around. I always tell you everything anyway.”
“Yeah, well I think you better come downstairs.”
“And why is that?”
“There are three women sitting at the bar that just saw your pretty new girlfriend hurry down the stairs. I’m guessing none of them’s gonna be happy with you right about now.”
He nodded when I said, “They sent you to get me?”
“If I was you, I’d cover up that hickey on your neck.”
When Bertram shut the door behind him, I returned to the bathroom to look in the mirror, the red spot on my neck glaring back at me. Having nothing to cover it up with, I decided to ignore it. When I approached the bar where Carla, Mama, and Lilly waited, I might as well have had the letter S branded on my forehead. They all gave me dirty looks, but Mama was the first to comment.
“Been swimming with a lamprey eel?”
All three women were sipping sugary drinks through colorful straws. To say they had the attention of every male would have been an understatement.
“Don’t start,” I said. “You were on your way someplace last time I saw you. I’ll bet it wasn’t a church social.”
Mama grinned, and so did Carla and Lilly. Lilly motioned to an empty stool.
“Join us?”
“No more crass comments?”
“Peace,” she said. “We want ask how you got the hickey, and you don’t ask what we did since the last time we saw you.”
“Deal,” I said.
Lilly smiled, and Bertram winked at her when he brought me a glass of lemonade. The countdown to the Sugar Bowl had begun, fans from the two opposing schools doing cheers on the sidewalk outside the bar.
“Quit looking at me like that,” Carla said.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m an axe murderer, or something. Mama was released from the hospital, and her doctors say she’ll make a full recovery. Aunt Beth is with her. They told me to stay away until they call because they need to catch up on sister talk.”
“Great news about your mother.”
I was sitting between Carla and Lilly, Mama Mulate feeling left out of the conversation. When a table opened behind us, she slid off her stool.
“Let’s grab that table. It’s too hard for four of us to communicate sitting at the bar.”
We made it to the table just in time as a group of football nuts came in from the street, noise and craziness outside the door crashing in around them.
“What’s up with all these people in football jerseys and college sweatshirts?” Lilly asked.
She shook her head when I said, “Not a college football fan?”
“Physical education is the only course I ever flunked.”
“It’s Sugar Bowl madness in the big N.O. Get on board.”
“If you say so. At least Bertram likes it.”
“I love the Sugar Bowl,” Mama said. “I try to attend every year.”
“Mama’s a football nut. Don’t insult the Saints or she’ll smack you,” I said.
Lilly just shook her head. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Good,” Mama said. “We need to tell Wyatt what we’re doing later tonight. You’re coming, too.”
“Oh?”
“Something exciting and we’re not going without you,” Lilly said.
“Where are we going?”
“Carla got us into Charity. We’re meeting a guard at midnight. He’s going to let us in the place,” Lilly said.
“Why so late?”
“Really, Wyatt,” Mama said. “You don’t go ghost hunting in broad daylight.”
“Could be dangerous. Transients living in the building.”
Carla shook her head. “My friend on the medical board says the building is safe. A big fence around the place.”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Don’t be a scaredy-cat,” Lilly said. “Mama, Carla, and I will protect you.”
“Yeah,” Carla said. “You told me once you weren’t afraid of anything.”
“Okay,” I said. “It’s a long time till midnight. What are we doing until then?”
“The three of us are still in bar-hopping mode. A girl thing. You aren’t invited,” Mama said. “We’ll meet you in front of Charity at twelve.”
They waved at Bertram as they made their way through the crowded saloon to the front door. Lilly blew him a kiss. People were waiting for our table, so I returned to an empty stool next to Eddie, who had arrived without notice. Bertram pushed a glass of lemonade toward me, along with the girl’s tab. I did a double take when I glanced at it.
“You kidding me! You padding tabs now?”
“You seen the way those three drink? I’m surprised they can walk out of here. I’ll just add it to your running total,” he said as he hurried off to wait on some noisy customers.
Eddie made a face when I finally glanced at him. “What are you doing here? It’s a long way from your pad in Metairie.”
“I had to take Jeneen to the airport. She almost missed her flight.”
“Where is she going?”
“Latitia didn’t tell you?”
“Hell no!”
“Europe for six weeks, along with the rest of the band.”
“Titia also?
“Yes.”
“She never said a word to me about it.”
“You sound like a whipped puppy. We just met them last night. We had a terrific time and now they’re gone.”
Eddie’s words hit me like a slap in the face.
“But...”
“But what, Cowboy? They’ll be back in six weeks. It isn’t as if you’re engaged.”
“She could have at least said something.”
“Get over it. You’re single, and this is the Big Easy. You were just sitting with three gorgeous women, for God’s sake. Besides, there’s something I have to tell you.”
After downing half of my lemonade, I took a deep breath, trying to make sense of why I still felt hurt and confused.
“Tell me what?”
“Last night at the club I went in the kitchen and found Paco.”
“You didn’t.”
“Yes I did. He was peeling potatoes, and you won’t believe what he told me.”
“Probably right, but tell me anyway.”
“You know who Frankie Castalano is?”
“The Mafia kingpin in New Orleans. Who doesn’t?”
“Paco is his father.”
“No way.”
“I’m not making this up.”
“Then why was he peeling potatoes in one of the many clubs his father owns?”
“That was my question to him. He apparently has a loose tongue and a tendency to blurt things out when he shouldn’t.”
“An unwise trait, considering the scene Pancho Bergamo created when you asked him a simple question about the mob.”
“Sounds to me as if they have issues. Frankie doesn’t want to whack his own dad, so he’s apparently spread it around the old man is a little crazy.”
“And Paco goes along with it?”
“He’s not exactly on positive mental footing. I’d say his condition is related more to old-age dementia or Alzheimer’s than schizophrenia.”
“Then how do you expect him to distinguish between fact and fantasy?”
“His long-term memory seems reasonable. He just has problems with what happened five minutes ago.”
“Did you ask him about the lynching?”
“He claimed to know all about it. He was about to tell me the story when two goons interrupted us and directed me, in no uncertain terms, back to our table.”
“What now?”
“Don’t know,” Eddie said. “I think Frankie’s men keep a close eye on him. I was hoping you’d have a suggestion.”
“Nothing that comes immediately to mind. I’ll think about it.”
“Me too,” he said. “What’s the deal with Carla, Mama, and their friend.”
“Lilly’s a writer working on a screenplay for a movie to be shot here in the city. The producer has hired Mama, Carla and me to help her add a little local color to the script.”
“Sounds like a sweet gig,” he said. “Pay well?”
“You wouldn’t believe.”
“How do I get onboard? We government men aren’t exactly overpaid.”
“First, you’d have to make amends with Mama and Carla.”
“I’m working on the Carla thing. Mama is another matter altogether.”
“What did you do to her? She’s usually laid back and forgiving.”
“Stood her up,” he said.
“For another woman?”
“Long story.”
“I’ve got no place to go until midnight. Let’s hear it.”
“Big case at headquarters. I forgot about our date and didn’t remember to call until the next morning. Mama wasn’t buying my story and hung up on me.”
“You didn’t remember until the next morning?”
“Don’t look at me like that. Everyone has memory lapses. And I was working on the single most notable case of my career. Sorry, I’m not perfect.”
“Watch it or you’ll be peeling potatoes alongside Paco.”
Eddie ignored my comment, waiting until the group cheer behind us had subsided to a minor roar before continuing his explanation.
“Mama’s one of the greatest women I’ve ever known. We had lots of fun, and I don’t just mean in bed. I’d at least like to continue being her friend, if nothing else.”
“Mama doesn’t usually hold a grudge. Too bad. It’d be fantastic if you went with us tonight.”
“What’s the deal?”
“Ghost hunting at the old Charity Hospital. Maybe Carla and Mama will forgive you if you promise to protect us.”
“I’m game, even if it does sound crazy. What are we looking for?”
“Ghosts,” I said.
“You’re weird, Cowboy.”
“Better talk about it a little later. Your old buddy just walked into the place.”
Tony Nicosia smiled as he opened the door for a taller, though slimmer man.
“That prick,” Eddie said.
“You’re not still holding a grudge, are you?”
Eddie sipped his Scotch. “I don’t like getting kneed in the nuts. Doesn’t matter because I’ve been informed, in no uncertain terms, to let the matter rest.”
“And?”
“As long as he stays on the other side of the bar, we’ll be just fine.”
Tony saw me, waved and walked in our direction.
“Didn’t your mama tell you not to play with low lifes?” he said.
Eddie slid off the bar stool and gave Tony a shove. Seeing what was unfolding, I got between them.
“Get outa the way, Cowboy,” Tony said. “I’m gonna kick a mudhole in the ass of this Yankee prick.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Back off, Wyatt,” Eddie said. “It’s me that’s going to kick this little rooster’s ass.”
Bertram, hearing the commotion, appeared with his weighted club.
“Ain’t nobody fighting in my bar unless they want a little love tap from Billy, here.”
“Fine,” Tony said. “I’d just as soon whip your sorry ass out on the sidewalk.”
“You got it, bro,” Eddie said, pushing me aside and starting for the door.
“Now wait a minute,” I said, grabbing their jackets. “Listen to me first. Then, if you still want to fight, more power to you. Bertram bring drinks for these two and put them on my tab.”
They continued glaring at each other as I pulled up a barstool and directed Tony and Eddie to sit on either side of me. The stranger that had entered with Tony was grinning and had bellied up to the bar along with us. Bertram just frowned and shook his head, still tapping his palm with the club.
“What’ll it be, mister?”
“Whiskey sour,” Tony’s friend said.
“I’m sick to death of this,” I said. “You two have been feuding for almost a year now.”
“I don’t like being kneed in the balls,” Eddie said.
“You had it coming, you prick,” Tony said.
When Eddie reached across me, trying to grab Tony, I pushed him away.
“Stop it! You two were as close as brothers. Neither was right doing what you did. Now, both of you need to apologize to each other and forget this crazy incident.”
“I’m not apologizing,” Tony said.
“Yes you are,” I said. “I helped you get your first job after the N.O.P.D. canned you. You owe me.”
“I don’t owe you,” Eddie said. “I’m not apologizing to this sawed-off piece of shit.”
It was Tony’s time to try and get at Eddie. “I said stop it!”
“Eddie, you need to retract that comment. Tony may have kneed you in the balls, but I remember him saving them for you more than once. You didn’t have a better friend on the N.O.P.D. Remember?”
“That was then, this is now.”
Bertram arrived with the drinks, frowning as he placed them in front of us. For emphasis, he whacked the club on the bar, the sound momentarily silencing the noise. It didn’t last long.
“Fine,” Bertram said. “If you two wanta piss off a longtime friendship, then I think there’s nothing I can do about it. You wanna go settle things outside, go ahead. At least have a drink first.”
They both needed a drink after blowing off so much energy. They were both drinking Scotch and Bertram was ready with a bottle.
“Well, Eddie, what’s your answer?”
“I guess I had a knee in the nuts coming, Lieutenant. Sometimes I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut. I apologize.”
Tony took a deep breath and glanced at the ceiling. “Hell, I ain’t no saint. I was having a lousy day. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m sorry, Eddie.”
“Fine,” I said. “Can we seal this little love fest with a handshake?”
Though neither man was smiling, they reached across me and shook hands.
“That’s better. Who’s your friend?”
“Boy’s, this is Jason Fasempaur. He knows more about bugling than any man alive.”
“I’m Wyatt, and this hothead is Eddie Toledo.”
“Sorry, Jason. I’m usually calm and collected. It wasn’t jazz, but Wyatt and I saw one of the finest brass show bands last night over in Fat City.”
“I love show bands. Who were they?”
“Brass & Sass. Believe me, they had plenty of both.”
“You’re kidding me. I’ve seen them several times. Latitia Boiset is the darling of Paris. I’ve been in lust for her for over a year now.”
“You and every other red-bloodied man that’s seen her perform. Talk to Wyatt. He just spent the night with her.”
“Lucky you.”
Fasempaur’s words caught me by surprise. “You’re from Paris?”
“Most of the time. At least when I’m not traveling around the world doing research.”
“The band’s on their way there now,” Eddie said.
Tony was glancing at his watch. “This will have to be my last Scotch. Lil doesn’t like it when I stay out too late.”
“Since when?” Eddie asked.
“Since I almost got divorced. I’m trying, like hell, to make my marriage work. It’s kinda hard since, like I said, I ain’t a saint.”
Eddie laughed. “Hell, Tony, the only Saints in New Orleans are on the football team.”
“Got that right,” he said.
“You making it okay since you left the force?”
“Wyatt got me some private dick work. I been making a living at it.”
“Tell him the truth,” I said. “You’re making more money now than you ever did on the force.”
“Yeah, well...”
“Working on anything unusual?” Eddie asked.
“Trying to find a lost horn. Seems the only person that knows what happened to it is dead.”
“Who are you talking about? Maybe I can help,” Eddie said.
“Paco Castalano.”
Eddie had his elbows on the bar as he worked on his Scotch. He turned and looked at Tony.
“Paco’s not dead. I saw him last night.”
Tony gave him a look. “You feeling okay, Eddie? You know Paco Castalano?”
“Believe me, I know Paco. He’s alive, though not quite all there upstairs if you know what I mean.”
Tony glanced at his watch again. “Can I call you later and talk about it?”
“You bet. It’ll cost you a drink, though.”
Tony smiled and tapped his shoulder. “Just like old times. Jason, you ready to blow this joint?”
“Heck, Tony, I’m not working tomorrow and I was just getting warmed up.”
“Come with us,” Eddie said. “We’ll take you back to your hotel later.”
“Where are we going?”
“To visit a haunted hospital,” I said.