A Dark Horse Page 3

  A nod. “He mentioned wanting a new job. He works at a diner back home but doesn’t like it.”

  “What sort of new job?”

  Natalie’s eyes widened as a memory suddenly swam to the surface. “He said if he had to be a dishwasher that it should at least be someplace with live music.” Hope infused her. “He wanted to work someplace that had live music so he would be near it, even if he wasn’t playing himself.”

  Adele nodded encouragingly. “Good. That’s good, Natalie. Keep going.”

  “I—” Natalie chewed her lower lip as she combed through her memories, but drew a blank. “I would have paid more attention if I’d known…”

  “I know,” Adele soothed and gently steered Natalie back on track. “He wants to work where there is music. He loves it. What else?”

  She groaned and covered her eyes with her palms. “I don’t remember anything else that would help.”

  “It’s a start.” Adele finally picked up the photograph on the table and spent a long moment studying it.

  Natalie knew the photo by heart. Josh looked healthy with slightly chubby cheeks, smooth clear skin, and a toothy smile. He appeared a couple of years younger than sixteen and was wearing a maroon marching band jacket and tatty jeans, his arms wound around a beaming older couple.

  Adele glanced up. “I know you’re not biologically related, but he has your eyes.”

  Natalie felt a lump rise in her throat. “I know.”

  Adele pushed to her feet and laid a cool hand on the other woman’s wrist. She gave it a comforting squeeze and let a little of the sympathy she felt show. “I have some ibuprofen in my car, if you’d like.”

  Natalie’s eyes closed. The pain behind her eyelids was making her ill and she didn’t bother to ask Detective Lejeune how she knew. “That would be wonderful.” She let out a shuddering breath, anticipating the relief already.

  “Do you have Josh and Misty’s last known address?”

  Wordlessly, Natalie nodded.

  “Good.” Adele kindly offered Natalie a hand up, which was graciously accepted. “I’ve never taken a family member along with me, but today is as good a time as any time to break the rules. We’ll start at the address you have. We can talk more on the way. I still have a lot of questions.”

  Each woman was lost in her own thoughts as they made their way through the building. “Detective Lejeune?” Natalie slid on her sunglasses as the bright afternoon glare assaulted her eyes and a blast furnace of heat ruffled her hair as they moved outside. “He couldn’t have just disappeared without a trace, could he?” But even as she said it, she knew the answer.

  Adele’s expression turned grim and she trained her eyes straight ahead as she walked toward her car. Her silence screamed louder than anything she could have said.

  Chapter Two

  “Have I said thank you yet?” Natalie unbuckled her seat belt and shifted so she was facing Adele.

  “I haven’t done anything yet. Well, except ask you about a million questions.” Adele had stepped out of her car and adjusted the low-slung belt where her gold shield and weapon were clipped.

  “That doesn’t matter.” Natalie glanced away. “Just…thank you. I’m so grateful for your help.”

  Pleased, Adele smiled brightly. “You’re welcome. This is where you tried earlier, huh?” She took off her sunglasses and stuck them on top of her head. She looked up at the second floor of the building, her mouth shifting into a frown.

  The women stood on Governor Nicholls Street, in the French Quarter, in front of a shabby-looking bar, its wooden sign hanging entirely still in the stagnant, heavy air. The clouds had started to move in overhead and Adele was sure it would be pouring rain before the day was done.

  Natalie nodded, looking miserable. “The man at the bar told me nobody lives here. He said I must have the address wrong.” Her lips turned down. His clumsy attempt at seduction had been repulsive. “Then he hit on me.”

  Adele rolled her eyes. “Of course he did. Wait here.”

  “But—”

  Adele was already moving inside. “Just wait here. I’ll only be a minute.”

  The bar had a dark cave-like interior and was nearly empty in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday. It smelled like dust, old wood and beer with the faintest undercurrent of vomit. Adele swallowed back a groan. The smell, ever-present, but most commonly found in the heart of Bourbon Street, was as familiar as her own name. And she hated it. It reminded her of her patrol days and the many late nights spent wrangling drunks…and just drunks.

  It didn’t take much convincing for the bar manager, a stocky man with a tragic comb-over. Adele simply flashed her badge, threatened to kick in the apartment door, and finally hinted that if he made things easy for her, she wouldn’t cause a stink about his illegal rentals. “It’s the silver key,” he said gruffly, tugging a couple of keys from his pocket. “First door on the left.”

  She snatched the keys from his hand and leaned way over the bar until her face was very close to his, cringing at the thought of her clothes coming into contact with the sticky surface. The scent of stale cigarettes emanated from the bar manager’s pores.

  She pinned him with a flinty glare, not speaking until she saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard.

  Adele’s voice was soft but unyielding, like velvet stretched over steel. Anger bubbled up inside her. “You should have helped the nice lady who came asking after her brother. That was an asshole move that I won’t forget.”

  The man lifted his hands in surrender and took a step backward. “Okay, okay. But the apartment is empty now anyway. Stupid shit and the dizzy blond girl stopped paying, so I locked ’em out.”

  Adele nodded and straightened. She picked up a napkin from a dispenser and grimaced as she wiped the palms of her hands. “How long ago?”

  He scratched at a stubbly chin, his fingers making a harsh rasping sound. “Few weeks. Maybe less.”

  “Don’t suppose he said where they were going or left a forwarding address?”

  The man gave her a look that said she was crazy. “Hey,” he called as she turned to leave. “You’re going to give them keys back, right?”

  She smirked over her shoulder and kept on walking.

  “There are tons of illegal rentals in town, especially in the Quarter, but also around the colleges,” Adele explained to Natalie as they passed through a nondescript doorway next to the bar. It opened into a shadowy alleyway and finally a tiny courtyard filled with crumbling stonework, garbage cans and a few sad-looking plants.

  Natalie’s eyes went round. From the outside of the building you would never know any of this was here.

  The apartment was on the second floor. Adele put herself between Natalie and the door and then backed Natalie up a few steps. Adele lowered her voice to a near whisper. “The manager says he kicked Josh and Misty out for not paying rent, but stand here and give me a few minutes to check it out before you follow me in.”

  Natalie’s eyes narrowed. “Detective, I’m not here just to stand around in the background while you look for my brother. Besides, Josh would never hurt me.”

  Adele did her best to sound reassuring, but also to be crystal clear. “I’m not saying he would, but we don’t know if the bar manager was telling the truth about the place being empty. There could be someone else in the apartment, and he or she could be armed.”

  Natalie paled. “I-I never thought of that.”

  “I shouldn’t have let you come along at all, but if you’re going to do this with me, I need you to do exactly what I say so you’ll be safe.” Detective Lejeune’s expression softened just a fraction. “I know you want to help, and you are, I promise. I’ll come out and get you as soon as it’s clear.” She smiled gently. “Okay? Just to be safe.”

  Natalie let out a long breath, her resolve visibly melting under Detective Lejeune’s tender brand of persuasion. “Okay.”

  Adele returned to the door and unclipped the safety strap on her
gun holster. She gripped the handle of her Glock 42 with one hand while banging firmly on the door with the other.

  The detective gave the door three loud raps with a closed fist and called out in a firm voice, “This is the police. Open up.” When she was met with only silence, she tried once more before carefully unlocking the door and peering inside, weapon at the ready. Her body was rigid with tension and a wisp of excitement intertwined with the fear that came with stepping into the unknown.

  The apartment consisted of a single twelve-by-twelve-foot room with a stained mattress in the corner and two rusty metal chairs that faced a broken window. Empty food containers were scattered across the floor, along with a few pieces of miscellaneous clothing and a fair amount of plain old garbage. Adele scanned the space quickly, then entered the bathroom, clicking the light on as she went. Several bulbs above the vanity were burned out, casting the room in a gloomy glow. The toilet seat was cracked in half, the tank lid was missing altogether, but the tub and sink both looked useable, if grubby.

  Still feeling a bit uneasy, even with no one in the apartment, Adele holstered her weapon. She stuck her head outside to wave in an anxious-looking Natalie.

  “Oh, my God,” Natalie groaned as she crossed the apartment’s threshold. It was far hotter inside than out, and she felt as though she’d stuck her head into an oven. “It’s disgusting in here.” She put her hand over her mouth and spoke through her fingers. “And it smells like rancid cheese.”

  Adele’s voice flattened and her eyes closed briefly as her memory abruptly provided the reason for the knot in her belly. “It-it does.” Not long after she’d become a detective, and only months after Katrina, Adele and her partner had entered an apartment eerily like this one, only to find the missing child they’d been searching for, along with the child’s noncustodial father, both very dead. Victims of a murder-suicide.

  The detective pushed out of her mind the memory of the little girl in a yellow flowered dress, curled up in bed next to her father, black cornrow braids drenched in dried blood, brown eyes open and unseeing. When her eyes swung around to meet Natalie’s, Adele’s cheeks pinked with embarrassment at the panicky look of concern on the other woman’s face.

  Adele ran her hand over her mouth and flailed wildly for something to say. “The kids didn’t trash the place before they left.” She gestured aimlessly at the bare walls, which were a sickly shade of pale green. “No parting graffiti. That’s a switch.”

  Natalie stepped closer, her hand automatically lifting. “Are you—?”

  Adele gave a short, dismissive wave, signaling that she was fine and silently asking Natalie to leave it alone. “The manager must have told them to go and let them collect their belongings first before locking them out. This is just junk.” She kicked at a torn, neon orange ladies’ T-shirt with her boot. The fabric looked to be stained with coffee or tea, but nothing suspicious.

  Natalie reluctantly tore her gaze from Adele and eyed the shirt carefully. She squatted down to get a better look. “Is that a uniform shirt? It’s hideous, but maybe worn by a waitress and someone spilled on her?”

  Adele shook her head. She’s smart. “Not for anyplace I know about. Unfortunately, I think it was just worn by a slob.” She found two receipts for pizza on the windowsill, both paid for with cash. “Did the kids have credit cards?”

  “Josh didn’t, for sure. And Misty didn’t have a job back home or the sort of family who could give her theirs. So I doubt it.”

  Adele crumpled the receipts and let them fall loosely from her hand. There was nothing here that would help them. “Do you recognize any of this stuff?”

  Natalie began to examine the strewn contents of the room, doing her best not to actually touch anything. “No.” She shook her head. “Nothing. He…God this is sickening. My family’s home is small and simple, but immaculately clean. We…he never lived like this.”

  Adele reached out for Natalie’s hand and gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze. “Don’t look so disappointed. We’re just getting started. Let’s go back outside before we die in here.” She wiped a trickle of sweat from her temple.

  “Okay.” Natalie lifted her chin a little. “I’ll think of something to tell my mother when I update her tonight.”

  With a sigh, Natalie reached into her purse and shoved aside an enormous paperback novel to dig out a hair rubber band. She quickly swept her hair up into a messy, but somehow fashionable-looking, ponytail. “What next?” She fanned the back of her neck with one hand. “The music clubs?”

  Adele locked the apartment door on their way out, then carelessly tossed the apartment keys into an overgrown bush in the courtyard.

  Natalie’s eyebrows jumped as she watched the keys disappear. Adele didn’t offer an explanation for her actions, and at the moment, she didn’t care enough to ask.

  “Too early for that. Next we head over to Jackson Square. If your brother’s halfway decent on the clarinet, then there’s a good chance he’s on a street corner trying to make money from it. It should be busy there this time of day and I know most of the regulars.”

  “I just want him to be okay, but—” Natalie’s expression went a little sour as they trotted down the courtyard stairs, their feet loud against the metal. “I hate the idea of him begging for money. If things were that bad I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t call me.”

  “Ms. Abb—”

  “Natalie, remember?”

  Adele inclined her head in acknowledgment. If Natalie didn’t mind that calling her by her first name was a bit unprofessional, she certainly wasn’t going to complain. “Right. Natalie. What do you do for a living?”

  Natalie blinked a few times at the seemingly random question. “I’m an assistant professor of Colonial and Revolutionary Period American history. Why?”

  Adele wasn’t the least bit surprised by Natalie’s occupation. She had guessed researcher or librarian or something equally studious, and this was more than close enough. Next she imagined the entire college baseball team vying for a seat in the front row of the young professor’s class.

  “If you were a sixteen-year-old boy, away from home for the very first time, and doing something your successful, intelligent, older sister is dead-set against, would you call her with your tail between your legs at the first sign of trouble?”

  “If I needed help—yes.”

  Adele pursed her lips and gave her a look that conveyed her doubt.

  “You think he wouldn’t call me out of pride and that I wouldn’t help him to prove a point? That—that’s not true!”

  “Of course you’d help him.” Adele stepped off the stairs and into the courtyard. “But you’d have busted his chops about it first.”

  Natalie didn’t deny it, but still managed to look genuinely offended.

  “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not thinking like a teenager. You’re thinking like a rational adult.” Who looks like she wants to punch me in the face. “If Josh had spoken to you recently, you might have actually convinced him to come home. I’m not saying it’s right for him to ignore your mom’s calls, I’m just saying I can sort of, maybe, understand why he might be reluctant to touch base.”

  A crease formed between Natalie’s brows. “He didn’t want a hard time and he didn’t want to be convinced to come home,” she murmured so low that Adele barely heard. “Jesus, I didn’t mean for him to think he couldn’t call me.”

  Adele felt the pain in Natalie’s voice as though it were her own. “Couldn’t call and decided not to call aren’t the same thing. I’m sure Josh knows you’ll always be there for him. Maybe he’s not ready for you to be there for him just yet.”

  Her words were greeted with silence and Adele had begun to wish she’d kept her big mouth shut when Natalie spoke up.

  “Which do you think it is?” An involuntary shiver passed through Natalie and her voice trembled. “Couldn’t call or just hasn’t?”

  Detective Lejeune sighed. “Odds are Josh is fine. But we
both know I’m not certain and that your family can’t live with anything less.”

  “Right,” Natalie rasped as though they’d come to some sort of an understanding.

  Adele stepped aside as a group of laughing college kids wove between her and Natalie. “That reminds me. Have you checked with your phone carrier to find out if his cell phone is still being used?”

  Natalie’s jaw sagged. “No. Ugh! I should have thought of that.”

  Adele gave her a lopsided grin. “Why? Your job is to teach about George Washington. This is my job. We’ll do that today too. And as far as begging goes…using your talent to play an instrument, so long as you’re not hassling anyone while you do it, is a far cry from begging in my book.”

  Adele waved Natalie away from her car after tossing her sunglasses on the driver’s seat and relocking the door. It was cooler to walk and they could look in on a few places along the way. Adele cocked her ear toward the bright sounds of a jazz band marching near the end of the block. A trumpet solo sang in the air. “Some folks say music is the soul of the city.”

  They were quiet for a few minutes as they walked. This part of the city had an old-world charm Natalie had never seen before, and she found herself wishing she could enjoy it.

  “So.” Adele tucked her thumbs into the pockets of her pants and smiled to herself. “Have you heard of a website called hotprofessors-dot-com?”

  Natalie tripped over her own feet and blushed a shade of red that would make Lucifer himself envious. “Uhh…well…I mean, maybe.”

  Delighted, Adele snorted and reached out a steadying hand. Maybe Natalie didn’t spend all her time with her nose in a book after all. “Oh, my God!” Adele threw her head back and laughed, showing off deep dimples that hadn’t made an appearance all day. “Just how many flaming hot chili peppers are there by your name?”

  * * *

  Evening the next day…

  The sun hung low in the summer sky as Natalie sat at a small wrought-iron table in the shadowy courtyard of a small café in the French Quarter. The space was hidden from the street by a tall brick fence and a row of thick green bushes. It felt ten degrees cooler in the shade. It seemed miles away from the hustle and bustle of the street. An oasis. Natalie was glad they’d ended back here after traipsing across the city today.