When he reached the small yard, he found that, as he’d suspected, the back door was open. Using his hip to avoid contaminating evidence—not that he expected there to be any—he nudged the door open farther. He moved quietly inside, finding himself in the kitchen. Muted daylight showed dust motes on the air. Nothing was on the stove; the room was as clean and neat as if it hadn’t been used in weeks. He moved through an archway into the dining room.
He thought, when he reached the parlor, that he would find Gus tied to a chair and likely dead. But what he found instead was chaos. Furniture thrown everywhere, the buffet drawers open, upholstery ripped to shreds. He quickly checked out the two bedrooms. They, too, were destroyed—but there was no sign of Gus.
“Coming out—house is clear!” he shouted before opening the front door. “No Gus, total destruction,” he said briefly.
Danni walked in, while the officer waited outside.
“Watch what you touch,” he told her then holstered his gun and called Larue, watching as Danni moved deeper into the house.
“Damn it,” Larue said as soon as Quinn finished describing the state of the house.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Quinn said. “His place is trashed, his car is here. I’m hoping he isn’t dead, but I have no idea, because he isn’t here. Why the hell would he have trashed his own house?”
“To put us off the scent?” Larue suggested.
“Quinn!” Danni called from the front bedroom.
“Hold on,” Quinn told Larue. He headed toward the bedroom.
Danni pointed under the bed.
He knelt down to look, and there, almost hidden in the shadows, he saw a dottore mask.
He stood up and looked at Danni, his heart sinking. He hadn’t wanted it to be Gus. He hadn’t wanted it to be anyone they knew. He’d wanted to find out the killer was a total stranger.
“It gets worse,” Danni whispered. She pointed to a framed picture hanging on the wall.
The picture Danni’s father had taken of the Survivor Set.
Arnie’s face was scratched out. So were Holton Morelli’s and Lawrence Barrett’s. There were slashes over Jeff’s, Brad’s and Jenny’s faces.
And there were checks on Tyler’s face—and Danni’s.
His stomach knotted, and he put the phone back to his ear. “Larue? You still there?We have to find Gus—and find him fast,” he said. “You’ve got to put out an APB, and you’ve got to say he’s armed and dangerous. He owns a Glock 19.”
*
It wasn’t easy convincing bar and restaurant owners to close down in NOLA—even when lives were at stake.
Even the owner of the Midnight Royale Café didn’t want to close, despite the fact that one of his house musicians had nearly been killed. His arguments were solid: no one had been attacked in a restaurant or a bar. Closing down was giving the killer just what he potentially wanted: the destruction of the local music scene. His final point, that there was no musician out there who couldn’t be replaced, earned him less sympathy. But eventually he agreed that a one-night shutdown might be in order.
It wasn’t as difficult with La Porte Rouge, where Eric Lyons ran the establishment for an absentee owner.
“Gus? I can’t believe it,” he said when Danni called him. “I mean, he’s got a temper on him, yeah, and he has a thing for Jessica, but...I still can’t believe it. As for closing for the night? Yeah, already got a request from the cops, and it’s no problem. The band needs time to get their heads together, anyway. You take care, okay?”
Danni promised that she would and told him to do the same. “Don’t forget, the killer went to Jessica’s house. Her mom is still in the hospital.”
“Speaking of...how’s Jessica doing?” he asked. “We all care about her, you know?”
“I do know. And she’s fine.”
“She’s not alone, right?”
“No, no, she’s not alone,” Danni assured him. She hesitated. “What about you and Sharon? Can you guys hang together, watch out for each other?”
“We’ll be fine,” he said. “I’ll try to reach her.”
When Danni hung up, Quinn was watching her, the light coming through her studio window casting shadows across his face. “Okay?” he asked.
“Not a problem,” she assured him. “But...what if the police can’t find Gus? We can’t ask people to close down forever. And I’m not sure that it does do any good. No one has ever been attacked in public or inside a club.”
“The street is public, and that’s where the killer went after Jeff, Rowdy and Lily,” he reminded her.
“I can’t help wondering...”
“Wondering what?” he asked.
“What if it’s not Gus?”
“The evidence at his house was pretty damning. And I think he might be going over the edge. No matter how sane a face he’s been portraying to the world, what he’s doing has to take its toll. That puts him at risk for making a mistake, and that can only be to our advantage. Unfortunately, it also means he’s liable to do anything. Anyway, I’m taking Wolf, Billie and Father Ryan and going back to Gus’s house. We’re going on the hunt. If Wolf can pick up a scent, we’ll be able to follow Gus’s trail.”