Never, she realized. Never in this bed.
The great affair of her life so far had been Rob Thierry. He had left New Orleans to answer the call of the big city. To his credit, he had tried to get her to go. Maybe she should have. But she hadn’t, and last she’d heard, he was working at a good job as a stage manager off Broadway. She wasn’t still pining for him; she just hadn’t found anyone else she wanted.
No, she’d had to wait around for a hard, embittered widower. A man as crazy in his own way as she was surely becoming herself.
But she was so glad he was there. His shoulders were revealed above the sheets, bronzed and broad, and his head looked so right against her pillow, his dark hair mussed and a hint of beard shadowing his jawline. And his eyes…
Those dark blue eyes, not icy now but still so unfathomable as he studied her.
He touched her face. “Kendall,” he said, and it was as if her name had a deeper meaning.
She smiled slowly.
Then they heard a phone ringing. A cell phone, from out in the hall.
“Not mine,” she told him.
“Mine.”
He jumped out of bed. She couldn’t help but notice that even in the full light of day, he had a gorgeous body. It was scarred in a few places, but muscled, firm and beautiful.
She followed him.
He had dug his cell phone out of the pocket of his pants and was frowning as he listened.
“I’ll be right out,” he said, and snapped the phone closed.
“What is it?” she asked.
“That was Zachary.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Apparently someone has been decorating the plantation for Halloween.”
“Oh?”
“There are voodoo dolls on the front lawn.”
“Voodoo dolls?”
“Three of them. With pins through them. And red slashes across their throats.”
11
Miss Ady was ready when Kendall came for her. She was in a cotton dress and a little pillbox hat. She was wearing gloves, and carried a little flowered handbag.
She was bright and cheerful. “Rebecca wants you to know that she’s mighty grateful you offered to take me in,” Ady said. “Seems like it’s been hard for them to take off time at the morgue lately. They’re still catching up, even after all this time,” she said seriously. “And there’s new crimes, too. They blame it all on the city, but it’s not just the city, you know, it’s Orleans Parish, and that’s a fact. Seems we get to see the best man can be, and the worst of it, too.”
“I’m happy to take you. And I’ll bet Mason is happy that I’m taking you, too. He gets to finish decorating the shop without me,” Kendall assured her.
“Well, Rebecca went on in early, so she can take a break and pop over to the doctor’s office. She went in at six this morning, so she can take her lunch break at ten.”
“Wonderful. I’ll get a chance to see her.”
Ady went to a doctor in the CBD, or central business district, right over Canal Street from the Quarter. She’d been going to him for a long time. He had managed to stay in private practice, despite the medical trend to form huge partnerships. That meant survival for many physicians, Kendall knew, but she was glad for Miss Ady that Dr. Ling was on his own, so the elderly lady never ended up shuttled from partner to partner. Many of his patients were older, like Miss Ady, and he was always willing to listen to stories about little aches and pains that some other doctors might just put down to old age.