“You don’t have an alarm system or security camera?” Quinn asked.
“I’m back here in a courtyard, not right on Royal,” Payne said. “I have to advertise just to let people know I’m here. I’m making it, but just. Hell, no. The cheap bastard who owns the place lives in New York City. He would laugh if I asked for a security camera or an alarm.”
“Thank you,” Quinn told him. He turned to go, and Larue followed him out.
“Asshole!” Larue exploded angrily. “Wait for the day the guy does get robbed then goes on the news crying that the police do nothing for the city.”
“He’s an asshole, but I think he’s telling the truth. He just forgot and left his doors open. Thing is...” Quinn paused, looking at Larue. “I think Payne really is just a disgruntled jerk, but while he may not know the killer, I think the killer does know him. He knows he’s a fool who doesn’t bother much when it comes to locking up.”
“You’re giving the killer a lot of credit,” Larue said.
Quinn shook his head. “He’s not stupid, but I don’t think he’s a genius. He’s just been watching, maybe for a long time, and storing up information that might be useful someday.”
“Maybe you’re right. So...any leads on the sax from your end?”
“No. Anything pan out on the trace evidence from the crime scenes?” Quinn asked.
“Nothing. It’s as if this guy really does just disappear,” Larue said.
“In plain sight.”
“So how the hell do we catch him?” Larue asked then shook his head in frustration before looking at Quinn grimly.
“I don’t know, but we have to catch him before he kills again,” Quinn said.
Chapter 13
DANNI WAS IN her father’s old office when she heard Jenny calling her name. Her friend must have just woken up, she thought, and been afraid that she was alone. In fact, only Quinn was out. He’d met up with Larue at the courtyard so they could go from shop to shop and ask about the unlocked gate.
They would finish up at the café, she knew.
“I’m down here, Jenny. I’m coming up,” she called.
She clasped the book she had been looking at to her chest and hurried back up the stairs and into the kitchen. Jenny was standing by the coffeepot. It looked as if she wanted coffee but was too paralyzed by fear to pour herself some.
“Hey,” Jenny said, and awkwardly reached for the pot.
“Hey,” Danni said.
“I was just...just wondering where everyone was,” Jenny said.
“They’re all around someplace—well, except for Quinn. I was digging up the scrapbook from our year at the school in the Garden District,” Danni said.
“Oh! That reminds me, I told Quinn I’d make up a list of everyone in the Survivor Set.”
Danni nodded. “He reminded me when he left.” She lowered her head, hiding a little secret smile. Quinn had woken her up with a kiss. He’d said she looked just like Sleeping Beauty, only he wasn’t sure he was much of a prince. Then, of course, the mystical fairy-tale moment had been over, and he’d told her where he was going and asked her about the Survivor Set.
Danni put the scrapbook on the table and opened it as she and Jenny sat down. “There’s a shot of the whole group of us who stayed. I think my dad actually took this picture. I remember it wound up in the papers, but he had a stack of copies made for whoever wanted them. Look, there’s Lawrence Barrett next to the principal—I think his name was Hardwick. He passed on a few years ago, if I remember right. There, on the left side, that’s Holton Morelli. He was a guest lecturer there that year, teaching music theory.”
“You’re right. I can’t believe he wound up in the picture,” Jenny said, and shivered. She pointed to a tall boy standing in the back row. “And there’s Arnie. All three of them are in this picture. And look, there’s Tyler in the back on the left, and next to him is Steve, our drummer. And right next to Steve, that’s Jeff Braman.”
“So,” Danni murmured, “Arnie dead, Jeff attacked, Holton and Lawrence killed. And you attacked, too, of course.”
“There you are,” Jenny said. “Off to the side.”
“We all look so lost and scared.”
“We were scared. Most of us didn’t know each other till we were sent to school together. Half of us didn’t even have houses after the storm. But I don’t get it. What’s the connection?” Jenny said.
“I’m not sure the Survivor Set really means anything. I’m positive the killer is after Arnie’s sax and doesn’t care who has it. There just happened to be a lot of talented people in our class, but none of us knows about Arnie’s sax,” Danni said.
“None of the other B-Street Bombers has been attacked, right? Just Arnie. And then his parents’ home was trashed.”
“And the killer obviously didn’t find the sax there.”
“So his parents don’t have it and don’t know what happened to it?” Jenny asked. “I mean, they really don’t?”