Had Vinnie been out even later, planting voodoo dolls on their lawn? Aidan wondered.
Aidan and Jeremy sat in the parlor and drank coffee while they waited for Vinnie to grab a shirt. The room held a grand piano covered with a quilt, a few guitars on stands, and bookshelves with dozens of music books and a few novels. It didn’t look as if Vinnie was into the occult. His choice in reading, as evidenced by the one shelf that held commercial fiction, tended toward legal thrillers.
When he reappeared from his bedroom, he looked like any ordinary guy, in jeans and a T-shirt.
“Nice house,” Aidan commented.
“It was my folks’. They moved to North Carolina, to a place in the mountains, to retire. I’m buying it from them, and since they bought it thirty years ago, the price isn’t bad. I could never afford it otherwise.”
“Do you ever take in boarders?” Aidan asked.
Vinnie shook his head. “I’m too hard to live with. Can’t keep a girlfriend, either.”
“I wouldn’t think you’d have any problem meeting women,” Aidan said.
“I don’t. I’m just the kind for one-night stands,” Vinnie told him. “Maybe I’ll change one day, but right now, there are too many pretty women out there. And they all seem to like sleeping with musicians.”
Aidan glanced at his brother, but Jeremy shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I’m not a musician.”
“Bullshit, man. You’re one hell of a musician,” Vinnie objected.
“I’m not a working musician.”
“You should be,” Vinnie told him. “But I guess you must be good at the investigation thing, too, huh?” He turned to Aidan. “You guys must do really well, to be putting that plantation back in order.”
“We’re good at our jobs,” Aidan said evenly.
“Come on, we can walk over to where Jenny was staying,” Vinnie suggested.
Jeremy glanced at his watch, then looked at his brother apologetically. “Can you two take it from here? I’m due to make a public service announcement at noon. We’re giving away two tickets for the gala Saturday night.”
“We’re fine,” Aidan said. “Aren’t we, Vinnie?”
“Yeah, just like two old pals,” Vinnie said dryly.
It was a three-block walk. They passed a man walking a dog and a woman getting out of a FedEx truck. Both of them knew Vinnie and seemed happy to see him.
There were no tourists in evidence, but then, this was a residential area of the Quarter. Some tourists probably took a walk around the area now and then, admiring the old houses with the pots of flowers on their porches, but it didn’t offer the bars of Bourbon Street or the shops found on Royal or Decatur, so there was no draw to bring most people here.
“Why do you have it in for me?” Vinnie asked Aidan suddenly.
Aidan turned to look at Vinnie, surprised by the question. The guy seemed sincerely puzzled.
“The trail ends with you, that’s all,” Aidan said.
“The trail, as you say, ends at the place where I’m taking you now,” Vinnie said firmly.
They came to a house that was only a little larger than Vinnie’s. A nice-looking place with a big veranda sporting a traditional porch swing, a stone wall out front, and a sign that advertised La Fleur Bed and Breakfast.
Vinnie walked on ahead, trying the front door. It wasn’t open, so he knocked.
A tiny woman with glasses and a gray bun at the back of her head opened the door. “Hello. Are you looking for a room?”
Aidan stepped ahead of Vinnie. “Hi, how are you? No, we’re looking for some help, ma’am.”
She arched a brow. “Well, I’m delighted to help you if I can.”
Aidan thanked her, introduced himself and produced the picture of Jenny Trent. He explained that she’d been in the city three months earlier, that Vinnie had walked her to the bed-and-breakfast, and that she hadn’t been seen since. But before he even finished, she was frowning and staring at him. “I wondered when someone would come,” she said.
Kendall was nervous. She couldn’t help worrying about Sheila.
She wandered aimlessly around the shop, brewed tea, sold some Halloween decorations, then found that she was scheduled for a reading. She looked at Mason. “Want to do this one?” she asked him.
“It’s Gary, one of the guys from the Stakes. He asked for you.”
Gary was a nice guy. He had glossy shoulder-length blond hair, the kind that made women jealous. He tried to talk her into singing with the band more often, but she begged off and gave him the cards, telling him to cut them, wary of what was going to happen. She laid out his spread. The cards looked like cards. She was so relieved that she talked with him for a long time, telling him honestly that the cards were just a way for him to look at his own life and know his own mind, and that his spread suggested he needed to work harder at pursuing his goal.