City of the Dead Read online

  This neighborhood looked much the same, just more brightly painted and less affluent. The paint was chipped, the school yards a bit unkempt, and the streets sported more Bible Baptist storefronts than Catholic churches.

  James pulled to a stop in front of a worn, two-story white wooden house with sky blue balconies and bright pink crepe myrtle trees that almost brushed the ground. Chastity gathered her stuff together, already feeling a bit better. Leave it to Kareena Boudreaux to live someplace Chastity would feel at home.

  “Welcome to the Irish Channel,” James announced like a tour guide as he held the cab door open. “I imagine you can figure who settled here. It’s currently in the process of coming back from ghetto land. My cousin is an urban pioneer, as we like to say.”

  Chastity climbed out onto a street where the sidewalks buckled and insects hummed. Hefting her bag, she turned toward the house.

  Then, just barely, she brushed up against James.

  An accident, no more.

  For a long second, though, all thought fled and her palms went damp again. She came to a dead stop there on the cracked pavement. But not because she was afraid.

  Five years of celibacy and her body didn’t seem to notice in the least. She was lighting up like a prom queen at a football game. Chastity shook her head, disgusted. She swore she could smell pheromones on a dead man.

  And no matter what her heart and her sweat glands were doing, she’d swear on her mother’s grave that that was all there was to it. Hormones and proximity. Any more would be more than she could handle. Ever.

  “Fireman,” she said, not looking at him, “do me a favor. If you want to stay safe around me, try not to stand so close.”

  He did everything but say “Huh?”

  She laughed. “I have this little problem, and you really don’t want to be part of it.”

  “Meaning?”

  But she made the mistake of making eye contact. He had great eyes, sleepy and sinful and sad. And that had the capacity to unnerve her in ways she couldn’t explain.

  So she shook her head. “Never mind.”

  Chastity knew he wouldn’t understand, but there was nothing she could do. So she left him standing there gaping on the sidewalk as she turned for Kareena’s house. She’d only taken two steps when the front door slammed open and a small whirlwind swept out.

  Chastity could have been forgiven for first mistaking the woman for a child. She bounded down the stairs like Tigger, her thick umber hair flying, her bright brown eyes wide. Then she opened her mouth, and the illusion disappeared.

  “James, you handsome son of a bitch,” she called in the husky voice of a siren. “What you make my friend stand out on the lawn in this heat for? Get on up on this porch, y’hear?”

  James had a great glare on him. “You could have told me.”

  Kareena stopped, hands on hips. “You woulda’ said no.”

  “Yes, I would have.”

  Chastity let her bag drag on the cracked, uneven sidewalk. “If it’s an imposition…”

  “It’s not,” they both said at the same time without looking away from each other.

  “He thinks I’m doin’ him a favor,” Kareena said.

  “He’s doing me a favor,” Chastity insisted.

  Kareena smiled like sunlight. “Exactly. Now get up here.”

  And finally, Chastity smiled. “How are you, Kareena?”

  Healthy as a horse, if the rib-snapping hug she dispensed was any indication. Kareena was only as tall as Chastity and as dark as Chastity was fair. She had big, liquid brown eyes and silky brown hair and the kind of energy Chastity only pretended to have on her better days. One look told Chastity just where James had come by his handsome dark looks. Kareena obviously represented the Cajun side of the family.

  “Me?” Kareena asked with a twinkle. “Happy to see you, girl. Even if it is to go sister-huntin’. Aren’t you lucky you happen to know the finest forensic nurse in the South? Charity Hospital’s never had it so good. And guess what my specialty is, yeah?”

  “Dare I hope it’s missing persons?”

  Kareena flashed a shit-eating grin. “Your sister anywhere in any of the computer systems, Kareena, she’ll find her.”

  Chastity sucked in a big breath of relief. She hated being out of her zone. She hated not knowing anything, feeling out of touch, out of control. Kareena might just save her sanity.

  “Come on in, girl,” Kareena said with a swat to Chastity’s back. “You got the Elvis room.”

  She did get the Elvis room. Elvis Costello. His stand-up cutout was perched right by the tall second-story window to keep Chastity company at night. Everything else was decorated in black and white, with black-framed eyeglasses for wall art and bed linens made up to look like a plain black suit. Only Kareena.

  She was the only Cajun girl Chastity knew—okay, she was the only Cajun girl she knew period—who despised zydeco music. That was because, Kareena informed her as they settled her in, zydeco was all people expected from somebody from Cut Off, Louisiana. Accordions and whiny tunes. That and shrimp recipes. Well, Kareena Boudreaux wasn’t no Bubba Shrimp, and she could play an instrument you didn’t wash your clothes on.

  Kareena was also the smartest girl to ever come out of Cut Off, one of the best forensic nurses Chastity knew. With Kareena’s help, she thought she might actually have a chance to find her sister.

  “Okay,” Kareena caroled out when Chastity met her back in the big pink, white, and green kitchen after unpacking. “Forensic conference. You gonna help us, James, or you need to go?”

  “I am Ms. Byrnes’s until she cuts me loose.”

  Kareena set out big bowls of some kind of gumbo, a loaf of dark bread, and a pitcher of gin and tonic. “Good,” she said. “Then we figure out what to do for this girl, yeah?”

  Then, seemingly without drawing breath, she dropped into one of her pink plastic chairs and poured out their drinks. “First thing you gotta know is that a quick search hasn’t showed up anything on your sister. You got a picture can help us some more?”

  Well, it seemed as if Chastity’s trip to River Run wasn’t wasted after all. Reaching into her nurse-sized purse she whipped out the framed photo and laid it at Kareena’s place.

  Kareena only took one look before shaking her head. “Her I woulda’ remembered in Charity, yeah? My missin’s are mostly young druggies and poor old black men.”

  “So Faith hasn’t been through Charity as a Jane Doe,” Chastity said as she spooned the rich gumbo into her mouth.

  Kareena shook her head. “Nope. I’ll check any other hospitals around, though. You wanna do it now?”

  Chastity shook her head even more forcefully. “I want to sit here and finish my gin. And then I want a good night’s sleep. It’s not gonna make a difference if we get started in the morning.”

  “Okay. Good. I’ll dig out her missing persons bulletin. I get ’em from all over, just in case, since we the big gun and knife club round here. It’ll have the contact detective listed on it. We’ll talk to him. You already talk to her husband?”

  “Yeah.”

  Kareena stopped with a spoonful of dinner halfway to her mouth. “And?”

  Chastity thought about it. “I haven’t a clue. From what he says, life was perfect and she was content and productive until she suddenly went missing two weeks ago.”

  Like anybody familiar with the vagaries of the public, Kareena lifted a wry eyebrow. “You believe him?”

  “I don’t know. I just met him for the first time this afternoon. I didn’t even know he existed until five days ago. Heck, I didn’t even know my sister still existed until five days ago. What the hell do I know about who to believe?”

  “Get down,” Kareena breathed in wonder, eyes wide. “You misplaced a whole sister?”

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” James said. “I can’t even seem to shake off second cousins.”

  “That’s cause you so cute, James. What’s your gut say, Chaz?”

  Chastity
shrugged. “I’ll let you know tomorrow. Right now I’m still getting over the fact that he looks an awful lot like my father, who was not my favorite character in the cartoons.”

  She didn’t realize that she’d unzipped her purse again and closed her hand around her small velvet bag.

  James took a look as he cleaned out his bowl with a hunk of bread. “She wasn’t wild about his house, either.”

  More discomfort. “I imagine my sister found comfort in the familiar,” Chastity said stiffly. “It wouldn’t have been how I’d decorate my house if I’d had the money.”

  But then, she still lived in the same city where they’d been raised. Familiarity enough, it seemed.

  “You want me to have my contacts check out this brother-in-law?” Kareena asked quietly.

  Chastity looked up at her, food and alcohol forgotten as she tried her best to wade through old instincts and older fears. “Yeah, sure. I mean, he’s the one who asked me to come down to look for her, but what the hell? We’ve all seen smoke screens before.”

  “He ask you to come look for her and you didn’t even know he was alive?”

  “Well, my sister knew I was alive, she just didn’t bother to tell me. Seems she knew I was a forensic nurse, too, because her husband sure thinks I can get results.”

  Kareena flashed another big, bright grin. “Well, he’s sure right about that, yeah? What’s his name?”

  “Dr. Maximillian Stanton.”

  Kareena let loose a low whistle. “Miracle Max?” she demanded, eyes wide all over again. “No shit, girl. He’s got hands like Houdini, him.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s sure in demand.”

  “Just about the highest priced talent they got over there at Tulane. Used to be at Charity, but Tulane gave him full professorship. And lots more money. Still got privileges at Charity, but we don’t get those insured patients for him to bill, yeah?” Kareena’s eyes got unfocused for a second as she sat there, clicking her pen and sipping at her gin. “He married, huh?”

  “Why? Doesn’t he act like it?”

  Kareena shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t work at Tulane. I’ll sure ask around, though.”

  For the first time since she’d sat down, Chastity smiled. That statement helped put her back on solid ground. She might not know New Orleans, but she sure as hell knew hospital grapevines. By this time tomorrow, they’d have everything but the size of Max’s business parts. And if he wasn’t quite the husband of the year he portrayed himself to be, they’d have that, too.

  She set her purse down on the floor and attacked her soup. “There and the Arlen Clinic. Is that the name of his group?”

  Kareena looked a bit confused. “Nah. He’s with Southeast Surgical Group. Never heard of the Arlen Clinic.”

  Chastity shrugged. “It was something he mentioned. Something Faith might have been involved with. He said it along with the hospital auxiliary, ya know?”

  “Oh, then it might be a fund-raiser thing, like a place for autism or shit like that. I can check it out, too.”

  Chastity gave her friend a big, relieved smile. “Good. That’s out of the way. Can I have more gumbo, please?”

  She had more gumbo. She drank more gin, as did Kareena and James. She called Moshika to check on Lilly the boxer and found out her dog missed her. And for the first time since getting that damned phone call almost a week earlier, Chastity began to relax.

  Of course, that night as she slept in the Elvis Costello room, she dreamed of water and laughter and woke up sweating, but that was to be expected. After all, she’d faced her monsters all day. She’d seen her mother’s couches and heard her sister Hope’s name for the first time in years. Even worse, she’d met a fireman who called to every self-destructive tendency she’d shoved down for five long, dry years, and she’d had to admit that one not-really-handsome man had the ability to set her all the way back.

  It was another one of the annoying little legacies from her childhood, just like that water thing. One Chastity had thought she’d finally learned to control with her rituals and her prescribed life and contained adrenaline rushes. Classic and predictable; in her mind, just as pathetic. And not about sex. Never really about sex.

  She’d been in therapy for ten years, celibate for five, like a drunk in recovery. But every once in a while, just like any addict, she put an open bottle out on the table to goad herself into a drink. Just to know she wouldn’t do it.

  The problem was, she wasn’t quite so sure of herself this time. Which was what brought back the dreams.

  It really was too bad, though, that she couldn’t give in just this once and have nasty, raunchy sex with the firefighter. At least it would be noisy enough to block the old voices in her head for a few minutes. Sometimes an entire hour or two.

  Kind of like a trauma code.

  Or a ride in a fast car.

  Instead, Chastity did her best to soak in the sounds of the night: the soothing drone of insects, the occasional barking dog, the off-balance whir and click of the ceiling fan. She curled her hand around her little velvet bag and closed her eyes and willed herself back to sleep.

  There were monsters out there, after all, and she was going to need her strength to face them.

  Four

  Chastity would have been slow to get out of bed if she’d been staying with anybody but Kareena Boudreaux. After all, she’d only managed about three hours of sleep, and that on alcohol and nightmares and the hotbox of an unair-conditioned house. Not the best way to face a stifling, muggy morning.

  But Kareena took away her choices. She blew through the bedroom door at seven with a cup of steaming caffeine and a litany of early morning joys that would have sent any sentient being screaming for a gun.

  Chastity hated morning. She was an evening nurse. A night person. She firmly believed that people were shot at sunrise because who wanted to live then anyway? She had forgotten that Kareena belonged to the dawn school of religion.

  “Shut…up,” she managed blackly as she downed about half a cup of Kareena’s McDonald’s-hot coffee.

  It was worth it. If you had to actually get up in the morning you should do it on Cajun coffee. After it took off the roof of her mouth, it damn near took off the roof of her head.

  “Aaaah.”

  “I knew you’d come around, girl. There’s eggs and boudin and grits in the kitchen. And you, girl, you in luck. My mama came up from Cut Off last week, she brought me some Evangeline Maid bread. Best bread in the world. I saved some for you. Come on and eat so Kareena can get to work and start huntin’ that sister you lookin’ for. What time did James say he’s comin’ for you?”

  Chastity blinked a couple of times and lurched all the way into full sitting position, picking her St. Louis Police Academy T-shirt away from her sweaty skin.

  “I can’t remember. Nine or so? It always this hot here?”

  “It summer, girl. You live on the river. You know how it is. Besides, we got some weird weather thing goin’ on. We expecting some kick-ass hurricanes this season.”

  Ignoring the instinctive clench in her gut, Chastity eased open a bleary eye. “You sound excited about this.”

  “You live on the edge to live on the edge, girl. I don’ have to tell that to no trauma nurse, do I?”

  “A trauma code is different from a palm tree blowing through my bathroom window.”

  “It all a matter of degree, isn’t it? Now come on. Get some pants on in case James come by. I don’t want him gettin’ all randy in my kitchen.”

  “James is not going to get randy. We already had that discussion.”

  Kareena actually backed up a bit. “Is it because of his scars?” She didn’t sound happy.

  Chastity got the other eye open so she could glare. “It’s because I’m practicing a policy of celibacy.”

  Kareena let loose a tugboat hoot that should have frightened the dogs down the block. “No wonder you a legend in St. Louis. You ain’t become a nun or nuthin’, have you? Kareena coul
d get in big trouble gettin’ a nun drunk in her kitchen.”

  “You’re safe. I’m just getting careful in my old age.”

  “For how long you do this?”

  “Four years, eleven months, five days and…three hours.”

  Kareena let loose a whistle. “You really give up sex?”

  “I gave up a useless exercise in desperation and self-loathing until I could work that little thing out.”

  Kareena gave her head a decisive shake. “Well, girl, I got lots more gin. You sure haven’t given up that.”

  “No,” Chastity agreed. “I make it a point never to entertain more than one addiction at a time. But I figure first, I have to earn the gin. It’s the Catholic in me.”

  “Addiction?” Kareena asked. “Real life? Not just bad choices?”

  Chastity’s smile was dust dry as she thought of all the twelve steps she’d tried. “I’m my very own Jerry Springer Show.”

  “Whoo-eee. You just got lots of little snakes in your head, don’t you?”

  Chastity smiled. “More like monsters under the bed.”

  Kareena tipped her head over, resembling nothing more than a bright little sparrow. “Any I need introducin’ to before I go lookin’ for your sister?”

  “Probably. But I’m just not up to it right now.”

  There was a long silence as Kareena’s computer-fast brain assessed the variables. Then she ripped off the bedclothes and yanked Chastity up by the arm. “Okay then, we got a place to start. You get some food in you and a shower. Me, I’ll go search missing persons reports.”

  But first, Chastity had a question. “You don’t really get hurricanes here, do you?”

  Kareena gave her a big, happy grin. “Do we get hurricanes? Mais yeah, we get hurricanes. Why you think we got so many cemeteries?”

  “Because the climate sucks.”

  “Yeah, well, that, too. Now come on, before you miss somethin’ fun.”

  Yeah. Like a palm tree through the bathroom window.

  And water. Lots and lots of water.

  Why did Chastity suddenly feel as if she were being stalked? Did omens stalk? Or just pile up?

  Eventually Chastity did get her breakfast. She ate enough to clog her arteries, and then she took a tepid handheld shower in eighty-year-old plumbing. By the time she made it back out to the kitchen again, fairly coherent and in need of yet more caffeine, James had taken Kareena’s place.