Jacquelyn shared the red hair color and blue eyes, but was six inches taller than Keegan. She was as talented at marketing their business as Keegan was in the kitchen, so she was in charge of sales.

  “Don’t worry. I lit a fire under this downtown yesterday, and the mayor and police chief both promised to make it a priority. This is the last message we need to send out to the world as we try to rebuild.” Outside, the waiters put in their first orders of the day, setting the clatter of pans in motion. “You doing okay?”

  “Fine. I just miss his laughter in there.” Keegan waved toward the kitchen. “Wait, there is something. Could you not light any more fires on this? I know you get results with the guys down there, but the detective working this case doesn’t need the headache.”

  “Do tell.” Jacquelyn sat on the desk and crossed her legs, making her skirt hitch up to mid-thigh. “The only time you notice someone is if they have some innovative cooking idea.”

  “Not true. And all I noticed was that she seems capable of doing her job.”

  “I’ll let you slide on the details because of what you’re going though, so consider yourself lucky.”

  Keegan laughed and nodded. “I appreciate that, but speaking of details, how’s it going with Adam?”

  “Certain things have come to my attention that make me believe Adam is lower than pond scum, so it isn’t going anywhere.”

  Jacquelyn’s tone made Keegan think that Adam was in a dark room somewhere with an ice pack on his groin. “What happened?”

  “His secretary, his neighbor, his tennis instructor, and his mother happened. And should I mention the neighbor and tennis instructor are married?”

  “He was sleeping with his mother?”

  “Sweetie, he’s a cheating asshole, but he’s not a complete pervert. No, his mother thought I was being unfair,” Jacquelyn made air quotes on the word, “when I got upset with her little boy’s need not to feel hemmed in.”

  “He defines monogamy as being hemmed in, I take it.”

  “Considering I never slept with him, I wouldn’t know what all the fuss was about, but I never did think of myself as a good harem girl, so he can define the word however he pleases.” She hit Keegan when she laughed. “All right. Enough about me. Tell me what’s new with you, or should I say who.”

  “The lead detective on Donovan’s case thinks I was seeing him.”

  “Ha,” Jacquelyn said, and clapped her hands. “If she’s that unobservant she’ll never find the idiot who did this. What’s her name?”

  “Sept Savoie. Mom came by earlier and told me she’s assigned to the French Quarter precinct, but she’s brought in on major cases since she’s one of NOPD’s best. Seems we rate as major.”

  “Who names their child Seven?” Jacquelyn asked, acting as if she hadn’t heard the rest of what Keegan had said.

  “You sound more like Della Junior every day. I don’t know what was on her mother’s mind when it came to names, but I trust her.”

  From her perch on the desk, Jacquelyn tapped her stiletto on the arm of Keegan’s chair. “Della Senior told me this trustworthy person accused you at first.”

  “You haven’t lived until you’re considered a murder suspect, but as long as the cop’s motivated I’d do it again. This isn’t a witch hunt to bring down one of the Blanchards.” Keegan pinched the tip of her sister’s shoe. “Anything else new? I have to get back out there.”

  “The National Association of Ophthalmologists agreed to have their convention in the city next month, and we’re hosting two different nights, so we’ll have to work up a menu for them.” Jacqueline stood and smoothed down her skirt. “Let’s make a date tonight for dinner, but only if you agree not to talk shop.”

  “Just tell me when and where.”

  “You pick, Keegan. If not, I’ll never hear the end of it if they use the wrong kind of cheese or something.”

  “Let’s try cousin Mackie’s place on Bourbon.”

  Jacqueline hugged her. “I’ll meet you there at eight.”

  Chapter Six

  “It seems impossible, but your victim was stabbed between nine and midnight.” Gavin, the coroner, pulled the sheet back just far enough for the wound to be visible. “She sustained only one stab wound, but it was enough. I waited until you got here to open her up, but the blade probably nicked her heart.”

  “Any similarities to yesterday’s case?” Sept asked as she studied the lines that had been drawn on her upper chest.

  “Looks like the same weapon in almost the same place.”

  “How hard is it to do that?” Sept thought about how Keegan’s knife sliced through that duck breast.

  “It’s not easy. If you want my opinion, you’re looking for a man with some upper body strength.”

  “What kind of knife?”

  Gavin placed a small ruler next to the wound. “I imagine he sunk it to the hilt, so I’d say a blade of two inches at its widest point. Probably a hunting knife.”

  “Makes sense. Those are big enough and sharp enough to field-dress a deer. The breastbone on a buck is about the same as this.”

  After Sept stepped back, Gavin cut down the chest. The retching began and he smiled along with Sept, who pointed to Nathan in the corner. When he started the saw to cut through the chest cavity, Nathan stepped out, clutching the garbage can.

  “This is what killed her.” Gavin pointed out the small cut in her heart, which he had lifted out to weigh. “This guy is not only determined but has impeccable aim. A mortal wound like this isn’t easy in one shot.”

  “Is it the same guy?”

  “All I’ve got is two dead people who got that way because someone stabbed them.”

  Sept took a few more notes and did her best to sketch the lines drawn on the chest from the photos in Gavin’s file. “Is it the same guy?” she asked again.

  “Between me and you and the fly on the wall, it is, and he’s gotten a good taste. That means, get ready to spend some time in here with me.”

  “Thanks, Doc. We’ll get back with you as soon as we ID her.”

  “Tell your partner I’ve got toothbrushes and mints in my office if he needs them.” Gavin kept doing his job as he talked. “Take care and tell your parents hello for me.”

  “Will do.”

  Sept shook her head when she found Nathan sitting on the hallway floor. She helped him up and gave him Gavin’s offerings.

  “You aren’t going to make fun of me?” Nathan asked as he rolled his mint around his mouth.

  “Watching someone cut a body up isn’t easy to do, so no. You need to grab some lunch, even if that sounds disgusting.”

  Nathan put his hand over his stomach as if that was the last thing he wanted. “I’ll trust you on that. Want to join me?”

  “Maybe next time. After that, head back to the office and go through old files to see if you find any comparable cases.”

  “Did the old files survive?”

  “Most of the older ones were computer-archived, but you’ll have to call around for the others.”

  “Why am I doing that?”

  “Patterns. That’s another important lesson. We’ve had two similar crimes in two days, but before we sound the alarm about a knife-crazed killer on the loose, we have to establish a pattern.” The weather had turned colder as the afternoon progressed, and gray storm clouds were gathering over the west side of the city. The damp, cold air made Sept’s shoulders ache. “The only way to establish a pattern is through research, so get cracking on that once you get to the office.”

  “If you’re going to do more investigating, don’t you want me with you?”

  “Nathan, what you’re doing is investigating. I just plan to walk the scene one more time and check if the guys have identified our victim.”

  He walked with her to the car and rested his hands on the roof. “My car’s over there anyway, so would you mind if I stay with you?” The more distance they put between them and the morgue, the more the color returned to his face. “Your father emphasized how much I could learn from you. I’ll stay late and work on the files, but I want to see how you go about this.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  When they arrived at the park, the crime unit, as well as the tape and any other evidence of what had happened the night before, was gone. Only a squad car with two officers inside remained.

  “You released the scene?” Nathan asked, and sounded surprised.

  “When it comes to what I may or may not want, this one’s different from yesterday’s.” Sept waved to the officers as she walked to the merry-go-round. “The brass don’t like to publicize a murder for too long, but Blanchard’s was out of the way, so I had more latitude.”

  “What are we looking for?”

  “Anything that doesn’t belong.” Sept stopped at the playground equipment in the spot she figured the woman had been lured to. The blood was gone, hidden under a new pack of dirt the city must’ve spread out. “Can’t do shit about the levees, but they’re all over this,” she mumbled.

  Their victim had been facing the street, but why stop right here and not move when her killer confronted her? It didn’t make sense in either case. And where was the killer standing that he didn’t alarm the victim? No matter what the woman did, most people were street-smart enough to at least try to avoid criminals.

  “Got anything new for me?” Sept asked the cops who’d joined her.

  “We just found somebody that might know the lady.”

  “Where?”

  “Small apartment complex three blocks from here. The manager has a tenant that fits the description, and she hasn’t seen or spoken to her today.”

  “Does she usually?”

  The officer answering the questions nodded. “The complex caters to the handicapped, and the manager usually checks daily to see if this lady needs groceries or anything. Aside from three walks a day with her dog, this woman was a homebody, even worked from home.”

  Sept closed her eyes, trying to think of any clues on the victim’s body. When she couldn’t come up with anything, she asked, “What was her disability?”

  “If it’s her, then Robin Burns is blind. She lives with her seeing-eye dog and works as a computer programmer.”

  That explained Robin Burns, if the Jane Doe at the morgue turned out to be her, but didn’t explain Donovan. “Any sign of the dog?”

  “Not yet. We thought it was more important to find out who was killed.”

  “And you discovered who she was when?”

  “Two hours ago,” the other officer answered.

  “Funny, I was at the morgue and I didn’t see you down there with the landlady for an ID.”

  “We were told to stay put here.”

  After Sept took a deep breath, she grabbed them both by the collar and turned them toward the car. “I’m sure your commander would understand if you leave to help with the investigation. Or would you rather sit on your ass looking pretty for the passersby?”

  “You want me to pick up the landlord and take her down?” Nathan asked.

  “Follow the two workhorses, then get on those files. Call me if you have anything.” When the guys started walking away, Sept thought of one more thing. “Did she mention the dog’s name?”

  “Mike,” the first officer said. “Whatever help that is.”

  “You’d be surprised.” It was late afternoon when Sept was left alone, and, as usual, she started at the murder spot and turned her attention outward.

  The park was small but popular. St. Charles Avenue ran along the front and another street along the side and back. Only one side was lined by a thick stand of trees, to insulate it from the mansion next door.

  Sept started at the sidewalk on the St. Charles side and walked the tree line. She found Mike ten feet from the end. He’d been stabbed and cut badly close to this ribs, but as she bent to check his tags to make sure it was him, he whimpered.

  “This is going to hurt, but hang on.” Sept cradled him in her arms and carried him to her car. After a few calls to find the police vet, she made it in less than fifteen minutes with lights and siren blaring. She forgot whatever she’d planned for the rest of the day and sat in the waiting room instead.

  The doctor came out a few hours later and said it would take time, but Mike would recover. Whoever had stabbed him had missed his heart, but collapsed and damaged his lung.

  “We’ll keep him a couple of days. I’ll call you in the morning with a progress report,” the vet said.

  Sept shook her head. “He’s not mine.” As she was about to make some more excuses, her cell phone rang.

  “The landlord identified our Jane Doe,” Nathan said. “It’s Robin Burns, and the last time her friend saw her was at nine. Ms. Burns regularly walked Mike right before going to bed at ten, and she always took that same route.”

  “Good work, Nathan. We’ll start again in the morning.” She suddenly felt bad for Mike, as well as the two victims. Mike had probably spent most of his life with his master, who’d depended on him as well. That relationship was over for him now. “Call me when he’s able to leave,” Sept told the vet.

  “I thought he wasn’t yours.”

  “He isn’t, but I’ll take him until I can figure something else out.”

  “You want to see him before you go?”

  The sarcastic response in the back of her throat died because the vet looked so earnest. Sept nodded instead. The golden retriever had been cleaned, stitched, bandaged, and sedated, so he appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Sept stroked his neck gently.

  “It’s a shame you can’t talk, boy. You could make my job so much easier.” When his front paws twitched, she stopped. “Just relax and heal. I’ll find out if your mama was somehow connected to a pastry chef named Donovan.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Can you tell me where she is?” Sept asked whoever had answered the phone at Blanchard’s. “This is Detective Savoie and I’ve got a few more questions.”

  “She’s having dinner with her sister, but I’ll give her a message if you want.”

  “What I want is either a phone number or the name of the restaurant.”

  “She’ll be at Mackie Blanchard’s in the Quarter at eight.”

  At a light, Sept noticed the blood smeared all over the front of her sweater—a reminder of what had happened to Mike. No matter how noble her rescue had been, Mackie Blanchard’s would never admit her like this.

  Sept grabbed a parking spot a few doors down from her place, then stopped to talk to Madeline Seymour, who lived in the apartment under hers. Madeline had tended bar at Chris Owens’s place since she’d been old enough to get through the door.

  That had been thirty years ago, and Madeline was still pouring and Chris Owens was still kicking her leg over her head, even though her advanced age was as top secret as what happened to Hoffa. Sept loved talking to Madeline because a five-minute conversation was better than an hour spent reading the paper.

  “You look in a mirror recently, Savoie?”

  “Why? I didn’t think it was that bad yet.”

  Madeline took a drag from her cigarette and twirled her black bow tie on her finger. “Hell, girl, you’re more than easy on the eye, that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m just saying that you don’t need to be hiring a hooker. And if you feel like you have to, don’t go leaving them in your place.”

  “Wise words from a wise woman. Have I ever asked you why you didn’t consider a career in law enforcement?” Sept shook her head.

  “If I did that, people wouldn’t tell me shit.” Madeline laughed. Then she pointed her fingers at Sept like a gun and laughed harder when Sept acted as if she’d been wounded. “Besides, if I became a cop, who’d fill you in on all the gossip?”

  “True. Be careful, and come by for coffee sometime.” Sept took the stairs two at a time and knocked before unlocking the door. “Erica,” she said as she took her jacket off and threw it on the sofa.

  “Oh, God,” Erica said, staring at her chest. “Did you get hurt?”

  “It’s not mine, don’t worry.” Sept stripped the sweater off next and headed for the bedroom and hamper. “I ended up taking a dog to the vet.”

  “That sounds like you. You’re always rescuing the pathetic, aren’t you?”

  “The dog probably tried to help his master, and you’re anything but pathetic.” The shirt had traces of Mike’s blood on it so she grabbed a fresh one from the rack. “Did you get a chance to think about what I asked you?”

  “I know you want to help, and I know I can’t stay here forever, but I got no skills, Sept.”

  “It’s ‘I don’t have any skills,’ and that’s not true. You just need a break, but it’s a lot like kicking dope. If you don’t really want to change, you won’t.” Sept buttoned her shirt and sat with Erica on the bed. “How about we try a step program? But unlike AA, mine only has three.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “First, you keep doing what you know, only more on your own terms. That way you get ahead faster. Second, you do it until you realize you don’t have to, and if you stay in the life it’s your decision. And last, if you make another choice, I’ll be there to help you through.”

  “What’s the catch?” Erica lifted her feet and sat Indian style. “There’s always a catch.”

  “None, and if you turn me down and go back to the butthead, I’ll still be here for you if that doesn’t work out.”

  “I want…I want to feel like I did last night. All I’m asking is a place to sleep where I feel safe.”

  “Then get dressed and I’ll introduce you to a friend of mine.” Sept held Erica’s hand. “If you don’t think it’ll work out, you can come back here until we think of something else. Deal?”

  Once Erica was ready she stayed quiet as they walked down Bourbon Street arm in arm, mostly people-watching. The sun started to set when they were in the gay-bars section, and Sept kept going until they reached a house on the next block. It appeared to take up half the block, but there was no business name on the bright, shiny red door. The color was the owner’s idea of a joke regarding what some parts of the Quarter had historically been called.