Katie could hear the press conference.
“Are you concerned that the populace is going to arm itself?” someone from the media shouted.
Then Dan’s voice. “Here’s the thing with turning care and vigilance into panic. The wrong person usually gets hurt. We need to keep an eye out for the unusual, for strangers haunting neighborhoods, and report anything suspicious. The police and the FBI will have a heavy presence in the city and environs. Call the emergency line. We’re prepared for many instances that may be nothing. But better to check it out.”
“Get a guard dog!” someone called.
“Dogs are great, but they’re living beings. They’re not disposable. If you decide you need a big dog, make sure you get one you intend to keep and care for. We don’t need the shelters being overburdened when this is over.”
“Will it be over?” someone else shouted out. “They never caught the Axeman of New Orleans back in 1919. And they never caught the axe murderer at work in Florida.”
“This is the twenty-first century, and we have a lot available now in forensic science that wasn’t around in 1919. We have a large population, and we’re hoping vigilant people will help us every step of the way. There were two terrible events in Florida, and like this, those events shook everyone with their savagery. But we have the FBI and the NOPD and other agencies working on this as well. Every officer and agent in the city has been briefed with all information available. And New Orleans is tough. It has weathered a lot. We have you, those who call New Orleans home, those who come often and those who are visiting. With your help, we will stop this heinous killer. Thank you.”
Katie couldn’t see Dan, but she could imagine him stepping back. She had to admit he had done a good job, not denying any questions but working with them.
“Can we get back to the pirates?” one of the boys asked. “Whatever happened to Jean Lafitte? He was a hero, but he left?”
“He was wounded in the battle in Mexico in 1823. He was trying to take two Spanish merchant ships. Remember, in 1823, there was no internet, and records weren’t as complete as they are today,” Katie said. “But it’s believed he died from injuries received then at dawn on February 5. He was buried at sea.”
“So he was a pirate!” the other teen said.
“A hero and a pirate, I suppose,” Katie said.
“Did he have kids?” the mother asked.
“Sadly, a son who died in a yellow fever epidemic,” Katie said.
They passed the LaLaurie house, and she took care as to how she told the story of the woman and the doctor who had tortured slaves. The pair had escaped in their carriage after one of their victims had set the house ablaze rather than endure more. Rumors abounded about them as well.
Soon enough Katie came full circle, heading back to Decatur Street, pointing out shops, buildings and other points of interest along the way.
To her surprise, Dan was there, leaning against the fence again, waiting for her.
As he had promised.
She wondered how the hell he had gotten through the city so fast. But he’d likely been dropped off by an officer in a police car, so they might have taken a few shortcuts.
“Isn’t that the man from the press conference?” the woman whispered. “Damned good-looking fellow. Think they chose him for that reason?”
“He’s looking for the killer, but he’s going to take a carriage tour?” the husband wondered aloud.
“He’s a friend,” Katie said briefly.
“Oh,” the man said.
“Ohhh!” his wife echoed.
Katie sighed inwardly. “Don’t worry, he’ll be working,” she promised. “And thank you so much for riding with me.”
“Can I pet the horse?” the girl asked.
“Sarah is a mule, but yes, you may pet her,” Katie said.
The family stepped down. She still had a few carrots left and let the kids all feed Sarah, and then she took a picture of the family together with the mule and carriage.
Dan had waited patiently, but now he walked up.
The family looked at him somewhat warily, then one of the boys spoke up. “We just saw you on TV!”
“That wasn’t TV, that was Mom’s phone,” his brother said.
“Whatever. We saw you. You’re really going to catch him? The hatchet man?” the boy asked anxiously.
“We will be giving it every human effort, and yes, I believe we will find him in the end,” Dan told him solemnly.
“Yes, yes, leave the nice officer alone now, boys,” the mom said. “Come on now, we’re going to get some dinner and get back to the hotel.”
“This early?” the younger boy whined. “Mom.”
His brother laughed. “We’re not going to Bourbon Street, huh?”
“Nelson!” his mother chastised. “Excuse us. I’m so sorry.”
But Katie realized Dan was grinning, too.
“Do the best you can to be careful and enjoy New Orleans. It’s a beautiful city. And, young man, it’s so much more than Bourbon Street. There are amazing places to see and explore. Cool museums with neat things in them. You should see all the old planes in the World War II Museum.”
“That does sound cool,” the younger boy said.
“Come on,” the mom said. “These people probably want some dinner, too. Thank you so much, Katie, and goodbye. Say goodbye and thank-you, kids.”
Laughing, the kids waved and followed their parents, the little girl’s hand clutched firmly by her mother.
“The city is full of tension,” Dan said, shaking his head. “Record day at the shooting ranges in and around New Orleans.”
“But is there anything new on the case?” she asked him.
“One thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I got a phone call from an old coworker in Florida.”
“And?” she asked, a grate of impatience in her voice.
“George
