Katie glanced over at him. “The Axeman worked over an extended time. May 1918 to October 1919. But Dan, if this is the same killer we’ve experienced before, he killed in the Keys and then in Orlando. He didn’t perform like the Axeman, killing again and again in the same place.”
“Right. But this is New Orleans. And there is the truth and the legend. Let’s get Sarah home then head out,” Dan suggested. “I really do need some dinner.”
They reached the stables, and he jumped down to open the gates. The dogs quickly came out to greet them, happy enough with Dan since Katie was bringing the rig to the stables.
He helped her—really helped her—knowing how to unharness the rig and slip on Sarah’s halter to bring her in for a brushing and her meal.
“You’ve done this before?” Katie asked.
“Not really. When my grandfather retired, he had one carriage. And a horse. He didn’t stay out long, so his horse was fine, and he never went out during the raging days of summer. But he loved the city and loved taking people around. Especially after the storm. He was determined that the city would come back, and it did.”
“Nice. Uh...where’s the horse now?”
“She’s happily retired on a farm outside of Baton Rouge. My sister dotes on her as if she were a puppy dog. Trust me, Arabella is doing just fine.” He pointed in a westerly direction. “He had property just over that way. Small but zoned properly to keep Arabella back then.”
She smiled. “Well, I guess you do have associations here and that you didn’t follow me.”
“No. I didn’t follow you,” he assured her. He smiled. “But I am going to be following you now, and vice versa, I hope. Adam and Alex and even Ryder think we’re important on this.”
“I’m not sure why. Do they believe we can think like the killer?”
He shook his head. “I’d say it was because Mabel approached me, but Axel had already come to get me. Maybe everyone is grabbing at straws and we’re the straws. Okay, well, this was great, but I take it there is a washhouse out here somewhere?” He grimaced. “I did a little scooping in Sarah’s stall.”
She laughed. “Let’s go through to my place.”
He nodded, but as they headed to the connecting gate, he turned back.
“What?” Katie asked.
“Monty’s place is dark.”
“Well, this is his haven, but the man does go out now and then,” she said.
“Sure, of course.”
He followed her to her place, thanking her when she directed him to the downstairs bathroom. When he came out, his face shimmering a little from the washing he’d given himself, he was frowning.
“What?”
“Easy as pie to slip in that bathroom window,” he said. “If you’ll let me, I’ll take care of that.”
“I... Sure,” she said.
“Let’s just walk down to Royal,” he suggested.
“Okay. You have a place in mind?”
“Let’s see what appeals as we go along. But... I like the idea of walking down to the city.”
“You know, there are areas around Rampart and Treme that people consider dangerous,” she reminded him.
He nodded. “I think we’ll be okay.”
They were about to cross over to the French Quarter when they were approached by a tall figure who was completely silver.
Not a ghost, just Katie’s friend Benny, the human statue/mime.
Benny was tall and lean, an amazing acrobat, Katie knew, and a great mime. Sometimes, he wasn’t on the streets because he was working a theatrical performance. But he was another person who simply loved what he did. He was about to turn thirty, something that had worried him a bit. Adults were supposed to have full-time jobs, and he was still on his own or in a show. Nothing permanent. Nothing with a pension. His background was mixed, and without makeup covering his body and hair, he was an extremely handsome man, dark bronze with flashing amber eyes and a roguish smile.
They’d been fast friends since they’d met, all but crashing into one another while in line for coffee at Café du Monde. They had both wanted enough coffee to stay awake to work long days during a long-ago Mardi Gras. She loved him and thought him incredibly talented.
“Hey!” he said, greeting her. He smiled at Dan. “Good to see you with Katie. I saw you give the press conference. I hate to think about her running around the city alone. Wait, I hate to think about me running around the city alone! But I’ve been the ghost of Andrew Jackson for several hours now, and I’m beat.”
“Benny’s place is just a block up,” Katie said.
“We can watch you get there,” Dan offered, shaking Benny’s hand.
Benny apologized for the white that came off. Dan shook his head, laughing.
“No problem.”
“I was offered a role in a play at a theater near Disney World,” Benny said. “I’m going to take it—get out of here for a bit.” He made a face. “I’m all on my own here.”
“You’re always welcome at my house,” Katie assured him. “But if it’s a good role—”
“It is. I’ll tell you about it later. It’s not just the murders, it’s that people in the city are too tense. A girl this afternoon... I’ve seen her telling fortunes at Jackson Square—you know, in that area between the park and the cathedral—just absolutely lost it. She had cards, not tarot cards but a regular deck of cards, and she was running up and down by the shops that line the park, screaming that they were all the number six! Crazy, man. And this is New Orleans!”
“If you need help with anything, let me know,” Katie told him.
Dan handed him one of his business cards. “Call if you need help, if you see anything, hear anything...or are worried about anything, even people being weird about fortune-telling. What was she saying about the number six?”
“Random stuff! ‘Six, it’s the time of six! Repent!’ Ah, well, I’m exhausted. I need to get out of costume, chow down a giant bowl of chocolate ice cream and get
