Twenty
Matt, along with Sam, Shooter, and TJ, arrived in New Orleans and checked into the Royal Orleans Hotel in the middle of the French Quarter.
As they stood in the opulent lobby waiting for their keys, Shooter glanced around at the lavish furnishings. “Jeez, guys,” he said, “I’m not used to this kinda luxury.”
Matt smiled. “Well, I hear there’s a Motel Six down the road if you’d rather stay there.”
TJ grabbed Shooter’s arm and hugged it as she nestled next to him. “Nothing doing,” she said. “This is the first time we’ve traveled together and I want it to be special.”
Shooter and TJ were rooming together, as were Matt and Sam. Shooter held the receipt up and grimaced. “Look at this. Three hundred fifty dollars a night! That’s pretty damned special.”
TJ leaned her head back and batted her eyes at him. “Aren’t I worth it?” she asked.
“There’s only one answer for that, Shooter,” Sam said gaily, “that is, if you don’t want to end up sleeping in the lobby.”
Shooter grinned down at TJ. This was the most normal she’d acted in weeks, and he didn’t want to spoil the mood by being grumpy. “Of course you are, sweetheart,” he answered. “Nothing is too good for the woman I love.” He grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s go check out the gift shop while they get our rooms ready.”
After they walked off, Sam punched Matt on the shoulder. “Why can’t you be romantic like Shooter?”
“It’s a mite difficult to be romantic when we’re up here on a trip trying to track down a homicidal maniac who’s supposed to be dead,” he said.
Sam smiled knowingly. “Just wait until we get to our room. I’ve brought something that’ll make you forget all about Vampyres.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh? What’s that?”
“Just a little something I picked up at Victoria’s Secret the other day.”
Matt took a deep breath and turned to the desk clerk. “You got those keys ready yet?” he asked anxiously.
When they got to the room, after promising to meet Shooter and TJ in the restaurant after unpacking, Matt tipped the bellman, then shut and locked the door.
He turned to find Sam standing by their window, which overlooked Bourbon Street. He walked up behind her and circled her with his arms, letting his hands cup her breasts.
“Now, what was that you said about Victoria’s Secret?” he murmured in her ear.
She turned and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Uh-uh, that’s for later. Now I’ve got to unpack and get settled in.”
“Promises, promises,” he grumbled. “That’s all I ever get.”
Sam opened her suitcase and pulled out a sheer black nightie that would barely cover her hips. She held it up. “Think about this while you wait,” she said. “Anticipation is the best part of making love.”
“Well,” Matt said, smiling at the nightie, “maybe not the best part, but it ranks right up there.”
After Sam got their clothes arranged in the closet and dresser drawers, she glanced at her wristwatch. “Time to meet Shooter and TJ downstairs.”
“Yeah, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse,” Matt said. “The peanuts on the plane didn’t do much to satisfy my appetite.”
After he locked the door behind them, they walked down the corridor arm in arm, as so many lovers before them had done.
They found Shooter and TJ in a corner booth, next to a window that also overlooked Bourbon Street. They were laughing and pointing at some of the strange-looking people walking down the sidewalk.
Sam whispered in Matt’s ear, “Doesn’t TJ look good? It’s as if this trip has brought her back to her senses.”
Matt nodded. “Yep. She’s like the TJ we used to know.”
TJ noticed them standing in the entrance and waved them over.
After they were seated, Shooter grinned at Matt. “You’re not gonna believe some of the people walking around the streets here. It’s like a costume party.”
Matt laughed and picked a menu off the table. He gulped and shook his head. “Boy, Shooter, if you think the room rates were pricey, just wait until you see what they get for a burger and fries in this joint.”
Sam cleared her throat. “OK, boys, here are the ground rules. We’re here on business, as well as pleasure, and I don’t want any more grousing about what it’s costing us. TJ and I will split the expenses, so I don’t want to hear any more about it.”
“That’s right,” TJ agreed, staring at Shooter with narrowed eyes.
The men held up their hands. “All right, all right,” Shooter said as a waiter appeared ready to take their orders.
“And no burgers and fries,” Sam said. “When in Rome, and all that stuff.”
To make her point, Sam ordered shrimp Creole. TJ said she’d have trout Ponchartrain. Matt grinned and ordered oysters Rockefeller. When Sam looked at him, he spread his arms. “I’ve gotta get ready for that new nightie you showed me up in the room.”
Shooter looked at TJ. “Did you hear that? Sam bought a new nightie.”
TJ patted his arm. “Don’t you worry, Shooter. We went shopping together.”
“Oh,” Shooter said, mollified. He looked up at the waiter. “I’ll have the oysters, too.”
When they’d finished the food, which all agreed was beyond compare, Matt ordered after-dinner cocktails for everyone.
After the drinks were served, he said, “Now let’s decide how we’re going to go about finding Roger Niemann, if he is, in fact, still alive and here in New Orleans.”
“The first thing we’ve got to do is check in with the local police,” Shooter said. “Chief Clark told me the man to see is the chief of detectives, William Boudreaux. According to Damon, he’s the man heading up the Ripper investigation.”
“You think he’ll agree to see us?” Sam asked.
Shooter nodded. “Yeah. Damon called him and told him we were coming up here to check on someone wanted in connection with a series of murders in Houston. He said there’d be no problem.”
“I think Shooter and I should tackle that. You girls go to the local medical society and see if you can get a line on any new doctors in town. If Niemann is here, it’s my guess he’ll be here as a doctor.”
“But, Matt,” TJ said, “in a town this size, there’s bound to be lots of new doctors coming here every year. How’ll we know which ones to check out? Roger is sure to have changed his name.”
“First we’ll look at hematologists and internists,” Matt answered. “I doubt he’d change his specialty. If that doesn’t work, we’ll just have to get names and addresses of all the new docs and see if we can get a look at them. It’s my guess he won’t have bothered to change his appearance too much.”
“And while you guys are doing that, I’ll see if I can find out where that ship, the Moon Chaser, is berthed. I’ll set up surveillance on it. With any luck, if it is Niemann’s ship, he’ll make a visit to it and I can follow him to his home.”
“That’s all well and good,” Sam said, “but, since this is our first night here, I propose we act like regular tourists and enjoy it.”
“What did you have in mind?” Matt asked.
Sam glanced at TJ and smiled. “TJ and I would like to see a couple of strip clubs and maybe take in some jazz or ragtime bands.”
Matt frowned. “Jeez, Sam. I’m awfully tired. Don’t you think we should turn in early?”
She patted his hand. “Don’t worry, dear. We won’t keep you out too late, and I promise you the nightie will be waiting for you when we get in.”
The night of fun started out fine, with everyone enjoying the strip clubs along Bourbon Street. Shooter let the others know he was mightily impressed with a certain brunette at one club, until he found out the strippers were all female impersonators. He immediately suggested they try Al Hirt’s club down the street and see if they could find some good jazz to listen to.
TJ started out the night in a very good mood, considering the serious purpose of their visit to New Orleans. She was laughing and teasing Shooter, until she found herself becoming increasingly disoriented.
It began after they were seated at a table for four at Al Hirt’s. They’d ordered drinks and were enjoying the band’s first set of the evening, when suddenly TJ began to get mental impressions. It was as if someone else was in her mind with her, and she began to get double images of the club, like she was seeing it through someone else’s eyes.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but the images remained and even began to be accompanied by emotional responses foreign to her.
Rubbing her forehead, as if that would make the images disappear, she glanced around the dimly lit room. After a moment, she found a dark-haired woman staring at her; she became convinced she could see herself and Shooter through that pretty woman’s eyes.
Flustered, she shook her head and got up to go to the ladies’ room to splash cold water on her face. Once she was in the rest room, the images and feelings vanished and she began to believe she’d only imagined them.
She was resting her hands on the sink and staring at herself in the mirror when she noticed a reflection of the dark-haired woman entering the room.
TJ turned and the woman walked up to her and stared at her without saying a word. Then, she smiled, reached into her handbag, and pulled out a business card. She handed it to TJ without speaking and left the room as suddenly as she’d appeared.
TJ read the card: DE LA FONTAINE ANTIQUES. The name was spelled out in fancy gothic lettering, with an address and phone number embossed underneath.
Taking a deep breath, TJ placed the card in her purse and went back to join the others.