Kendall turned in the direction he’d indicated and saw a couple of the cops who worked the French Quarter during the day. Sam Stuart was there, a nice guy of about thirty, with a little paunch, and Tim Yates, the same age, but dark-haired, fit, and something of a local Lothario. She had always steered clear of him; he had a slick line, and she didn’t need to read the tarot cards to know he thought of himself as a player and only wanted to add more notches to his belt. He was a good cop, though. He had stood fast during the terrible ordeal of Katrina and the lawless chaos that followed.
A third man joined them at the table, a man there was no mistaking. Hal Vincent was tall, and his close-cropped hair was shockingly white. He was lean and straight as a ramrod. He’d taken down some of the city’s toughest criminals and gained the respect of his fellow officers, as well as the public. She’d heard he was working homicide these days.
He sat down with his fellows, a tall beer in his hand. He joked as he sat, then looked up and saw Kendall and Mason.
He frowned, as if he were seeing a picture he shouldn’t be seeing, then said something to the other two cops and came over to say hello.
“Hey, you two. Kendall, haven’t seen you in a while. How are you doing?”
“Fine, Hal, thanks. And you?”
He nodded. “Doing all right.”
“I haven’t seen you around for a while,” Mason said.
“Thank God. We don’t need murder in the French Quarter. We’re getting a bad enough rap for the violence in certain areas as it is.”
“You here just trying to help Brad build his business back up, too?” Mason asked.
“Yeah, I guess. Didn’t really have anything else to do. My wife is away for a while, taking care of her mother over in Crowley. Broken hip. I’m kind of lost without her giving me chores at night.”
“We’re going down the street in a few minutes to catch Vinnie’s band,” Kendall offered.
“Yeah. Kendall just decided we needed three beers for the price of one first,” Mason explained.
Kendall looked at the glasses on the table in front of her. She’d told the bartender she didn’t really need three beers, that she wouldn’t be able to drink them in the time they had.
But she had downed one quickly, and now she was in the middle of the second.
“Never knew you to be a drinker before,” Hal said with a laugh.
“I guess I was thirsty.”
“Probably just wanted to drown out the voices in her head, now that she’s decided she’s a real psychic,” Mason said in a teasing whisper.
“Oh?” Hal asked.
“Pay no attention to Mason,” Kendall cautioned. “He just likes to torment me.”
“She’s taking old Ady Murphy to the doctor on Thursday. She’s convinced the woman she has cancer.”
“You get a feel for these things when you spend time taking care of someone who’s ill,” Kendall said, trying to sound perfectly calm and logical—and just slightly aggravated.
Hal looked at her and nodded. “Guess you were spending most of your time up at the old Flynn place, huh?”
“A lot of my time, yes,” she agreed.
To Kendall’s surprise, Hal said thoughtfully, “Maybe that place really does have some kind of weird vibe.”
“What?” Kendall asked, startled.
“Met the guy taking over,” Hal said.
“There are three guys taking over,” she pointed out.
“I’m talking about the oldest brother,” Hal said. “I got a call to meet him at the river, and then at the house. The guy seems to have a knack for finding human bones. No, not just finding them—getting obsessed with them.”
“Well,” Kendall said, surprised to hear herself defending Aidan Flynn, “you’ve got to admit, most people would get concerned if they found even one human bone, much less two.”
Hal took a long swig of his beer. “Not around here,” he said sadly. “Not around here. Hell, we had bodies everywhere….” He lowered his head, shaking it. “Everybody failed us…city, parish, state, country.”
Kendall set a gentle hand on his arm. “I know, but that doesn’t mean we can just give up fighting crime now.”
Hal straightened. “Of course not. I’m a good cop, and you know it.”
“Of course you are,” Kendall agreed. “Hal, you’re one of the best.”
“Yeah, well, I hope this guy realizes I’ve got too much on my plate right now to go crazy over a couple of old bones.”
“He is persistent,” Kendall admitted.
She swallowed the last of the second beer and, to her surprise, started on the third.
“So, Hal,” Mason said, “want to come see Vinnie with us?”
“I’ll come by in a bit,” Hal said, then winked at Kendall. “I don’t want to make it look like an exodus. Might hurt Brad’s feelings.”
“Good thinking,” she told him.
She was surprised to find she had already finished the last of her three-for-ones. The alcohol seemed soothing tonight.
She slid off her stool and discovered that the world was teetering just a bit. Damn, she was actually tipsy.
She immediately sought to cover up her inebriated state. She stood very straight, perfectly balanced. “Okay, Mason. Let’s go claim a table while it’s early, just in case the place starts to get crowded later. Hal, we’ll see you over there.”