He looked her way and for a moment, he almost forgot who they were—and what they were doing there. It was a beautiful day and the area was stunning. There was a breeze that touched the air around them, making it pleasant when it should have been hot. Palm trees dipped and swayed with it; everything around them seemed cleaned and touched by it. The sky was a soft powder blue just touched here and there by a cloud that looked like a puff of cotton.
And Danni had long, sleek, dark auburn hair that picked up the sunlight and shimmered with sunset hues. She was wearing sandals and a sleeveless white dress that made her look like a stunning co-ed just out for an easy vacation. She made him remember that he was in love, that they were in a tropical paradise, and that he longed to reach out and touch her and lie in the sand and….
They were here because a friend was in trouble.
And Danni’s eyes were large and as brilliantly blue as the sky—and filled with concern.
“About the situation,” Quinn said. “I don’t know what to think. I mean, you and I know that the thing might have…who knows? Been possessed or something. Or, Kathy might have activated it somehow, been tired—she forgets to sleep when she’s working, if I remember right. Anyway, we’ll find out in an hour or so, right?”
She nodded. “Absolutely, oh, fearless leader!” she told him.
He smiled back. Then he sobered and they both looked at one another. Fearless. No. They were both smart enough to be afraid. They had learned the hard way that very strange things—not yet explained by science, if they ever would be—definitely happened.
“Let’s enjoy the drive,” he said softly.
And they actually did. There was nothing like driving along and seeing the rippling blue water in shades of blue and green—touched by diamond glittering here and there as the sun shone down. They crossed over the Seven-Mile Bridge and passed through the lower keys, seeing some that were almost pristine, some with small fishing inns advertised, some with majestic mansions surrounded by nothing but the water and the sea.
As they drove by small islands with names like “No Name Key,” “Cudjoe Key,” and more, Quinn wished that they were on vacation. “If we get this taken care of,” he murmured. “We’ll have to go and see the sunset at Mallory Square. It really is fantastic. And music! The city has so much going on all the time. You’re going to love it.”
“I’ve been once,” she told him. “When I was in school.” She glanced his way. “It was one of Dad’s buying trips—though what he was really buying, I don’t know. I loved it! And Key West actually reminds me a lot of New Orleans.” She grinned. “They have a cool cemetery with a lot of above ground interments. They have Duval Street—we have Bourbon Street. We have French and Spanish architecture and the Garden District—they have amazing old Victorians. Then again—they have great water sports and we have the Mississippi!”
He smiled at her. She was looking out the window. The sun was waning but the sky remained beautiful, turning to different shades of gold and mauve and pink.
They moved on through the lower keys, passing signs that warned them to be careful of the little Key deer. They actually saw one; Danni was delighted.
Finally, they came off of Stock Island and turned off onto Roosevelt, heading for Old Town. By then, the sun had faded away almost completely.
They found the address on Elizabeth Street. They dying sun seemed to encompass the old house in a blood red haze. Colby had been working on the house, Quinn knew, but the columns had been stripped and not re-painted as of yet, giving the Victorian architecture a decaying and ghostly aura.
“I can see where one might get nervous here,” Danni murmured.
“Not Kathy,” Quinn said. “She’s a trooper. She loves spooky things and horror movies and history—no one can tell you the history of this city with greater detail than Kathy. These houses never scared her. I’ll show you the big house she grew up in—that the family still owns. Trust me—Kathy does not scare easily.”
Danni grinned at him. “Maybe I do!” she said.
“A little late for that!” he teased.
They exited the car and headed up the walk to the old porch. The ceiling above the porch was painted blue—“haint blue,” or haunt blue, as it was known. It kept the “spirits” in check, or so went the superstition.
Quinn set the key in the lock and twisted it. The house was dark. He fumbled for a light switch. A chandelier in the center of the parlor blazed.
The house was nice—about two-thousand square feet, Quinn reckoned. Built in the mid-1800s, maintained by its owners through the decades. The Kennedy family still owned the big house the kids had grown up in, but, Quinn knew from Colby’s call, it had been rented out since his mom had gone into nursing care. Colby had been extremely proud to have purchased this place with his own earnings.
White lace curtains adorned the windows. There was a fireplace with a mantle. Between the living and dining areas there was a desk. Kathy’s computer remained on the desk.
“Nice home,” Danni murmured. “I don’t see the doll—zombie-nun—by the desk…or in the parlor. I do see the cat!”
As she spoke, a silver-gray fur-ball came flying at them. Waldorf actually managed to leap right into Danni’s arms.