Blood Red

“My last name’s Crow. Lauren Crow,” she said softly. She turned to her friends, who had followed and were standing behind her. “These are my friends. Deanna??? and Heidi Weiss.”

“Hi,” they chimed in unison, stepping up to shake hands.

“You two know each other?” Deanna said.

“Not really. We met in the bar last night.”

“Cool,” Deanna said.

“We’re here from LA. Where do you call home?” Heidi asked.

“At the moment?” he replied. “I’m in the middle of relocating.”

“Are you thinking about moving to New Orleans?” Deanna asked.

“It’s a great place,” he said.

“I guess,” Deanna managed around a yawn, then excused herself quickly. “Not a lot of sleep to be had here, though.”

He noticed that Lauren was just staring at him. Suspiciously.

“What do you do for a living?” Deanna asked.

Lauren elbowed her friend and gave her a reproving look, but he only laughed out loud. “It’s okay. I’m a writer and a musician.”

“What do you play?” Lauren asked sharply.

“Piano, guitar.”

“Do you write music?” Deanna asked.

“Sometimes. But mostly I confine my writing to article and, some fiction.”

“Cool,” Heidi said.

“Horror novels?” Lauren asked pointedly. Those green eyes of hers didn’t leave him for a second. He disturbed her, he thought. Why?

“I’ve tried a few different things in my day.”

“Are you rich and famous?” Heidi teased.

“No, I’m sorry. Just plodding along,” he told her.

“I’m not sure I believe that,” Deanna said. “You probably have a pseudonym but you’re not going to share it, right?”

“Nothing that deep or mysterious, I’m afraid.”

“Well, nice to meet you,” Lauren said. She set a hand on Heidi’s shoulder, her eyes still on him warily. “We need to get moving.”

“What’s the hurry?” Heidi asked.

“You said you wanted to go shopping,” Lauren reminded her. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Davidson, but we need to get going.”

“It was super to meet you,” Deanna said. Her voice was low and throaty. Sensual.

“Absolutely,” Heidi agreed. She seemed to croon the single word.

“We’ll be seeing you again, I assume. After all, we are staying in the same place,” Deanna said.

“Yes, we are,” Lauren murmured. She didn’t sound happy about the fact, he noticed.

“You’re here for a few days?” Heidi asked.

“I am. Cottage six.”

“That’s right next door to us,” Lauren said, unable to hide her surprise.

“Is it?” he inquired.

“I guess we really will see you,” Lauren said, her suspicion and aggravation evident in her tone. “But right now, we really do have to get going,” she said firmly.

She turned, walking determinedly toward the street.

“See you,” Deanna said, and winked.

“Later,” Heidi told him.

“Sure. Enjoy New Orleans,” he said, and he sat and pretended to give his full attention to his newspaper once again.

“My God, you met him last night and you didn’t say anything, much less introduce him?” Heidi marveled, staring at Lauren as they headed toward Royal Street.

“I didn’t exactly meet him,” Lauren said. “I bumped into him.”

“I only bump into eighty-year-old men with canes,” Deanna said mournfully.

“He’s…magnetic,” Heidi said.