“You’re actually smiling,” Dan told her as they entered the restaurant.
He and Axel were both looking at her, and she shrugged, allowing that smile.
“I was thinking if you could put New Orleans and the Keys into one place, it would be about perfect.”
“There’s the Mississippi River,” Axel noted.
She made a face. “Lousy diving.”
“Ah, well, that just means we all have to travel and get to know more places,” Dan said.
She looked at curiously. “You dive?”
He nodded. “When I can.”
“I read you were an amazing diver,” Axel said, looking at her.
“Once. No more. I don’t go out anymore. I...uh...” She stammered, wanting to change the subject. “I find it interesting, though. Key West and New Orleans have many things in common. They’re both party towns, which means people often miss what’s so wonderful about the heart of them. You have Duval Street in Key West, Bourbon Street in New Orleans. The Key West cemetery is in the center of the island on the highest ground...though, it’s not very high. But storms have caused bodies to rise and wash through the streets of both cities. And Key West doesn’t have NOLA architecture. It has its own style. It also has an amazing array of Victorian houses since once, it was highest on the chart with per-capita income because money was rolling in during the prime days of salvage.”
She opened her mouth and closed it, embarrassed as she realized that the hostess was waiting to seat them.
“Wow, that sounds cool!” the young woman said.
Katie flushed. “Uh, thanks.”
In a few minutes they were seated. She ordered iced tea while Dan and Axel opted for coffee. They both knew what they wanted right away; obviously, they both knew the restaurant. For Dan, pecan-roasted fish. Axel went for the steak. Katie still wasn’t sure she could eat, but they were away from the morgue now, and the aromas coming from the kitchen were enticing, and she knew food was something she probably really needed.
She went with the special, a surf and turf meal.
Their waitress had just left the table when Katie looked to the stairs leading to the second floor. There was a woman at the landing.
She might have been someone dressed for a costumed event in a 1920s outfit.
But Katie knew Dan’s ghost had arrived, sweeping in with flair and elegance.
Mabel made her way to the table.
Katie smiled, seeing Dan and Axel were about to stand out of politeness—and then realized they should not. Mabel waved a hand at the two of them, assuring them she appreciated their courtesy but to let it go. With the tiniest scrape of the chair, she took the empty seat next to Axel.
“Miss Delaney! What a pleasure!” Mabel said. “I’m sure these gentlemen have spoken about me. I’m Mabel Greely.”
“Yes, I’ve heard about you,” Katie said, unable to resist a smile. Mabel had shaken Dan Oliver in a way no living person could have ever managed. She continued. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You’re a tour guide in the city,” Mabel said.
“Carriage tours.”
“Lovely.” Mabel grinned. “I imagine we have friends in common?”
“I imagine we do.”
“Gray Simmons, the English fellow who sailed with Lafitte?”
“Yes!” Katie said. “I see him on Bourbon Street frequently. He says he loved to hang around the old blacksmith shop. Though, he tells me the building was used in so many different ways.”
Mabel explained to Dan and Axel. “Gray died at the Battle of New Orleans, fighting against the British and for Jackson, though he had been born in Liverpool. So, dear boys—and Miss Delaney—please bring me up to speed.”
Dan explained they had found Jennie dead.
Mabel looked at Katie. “You know it was her?”
“You don’t forget,” Katie said softly.
“No, you don’t,” Mabel agreed. “I believe, then, that you have been right, that the killings are all associated. And the man you knew as Dr. Neil Browne is the killer. Jennie was his accomplice, except she crossed him or did something wrong.”
“I think he knew I saw her,” Katie said.
“And you’re feeling a little bit guilty, aren’t you?” Mabel asked. “You mustn’t. I’m sure she participated in the most heinous crimes imaginable.”
“Think we’ll see her anywhere? Her...uh...” Dan asked cautiously.
“Ghost, darling. She’s dead. Do just speak plainly. I’ve assured you I’m not offended,” Mabel said. “No, I don’t believe she’ll be around. I’ve rarely seen...evil come back,” she finished quietly. “Have you looked into Allan Pierce?”
“We have a top researcher doing so. And we’ll get into the archives ourselves tomorrow,” Dan said.
Mabel nodded. “You got me thinking on the number six.”
“And about the fact this may all have started here somehow?” Dan asked.
Mabel stared at Katie. “Your father was from here, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, but he and my mom moved to Florida before I was born. He was in the navy. He lived many places through the years,” Katie said. “He came back after Katrina, and he and Jeremy went out in Jeremy’s boat. I mean, I guess it was my dad’s home, and he wanted to help. My mom and I didn’t come with him. The city was hurting, so unless you were going to be able to do something solidly helpful, you weren’t needed. I guess my dad didn’t want to be worrying about my mother and me. I thought we could have handed out water or done something. But I was barely a teen at the time.”
“Interesting. And his family goes way back, right?” Mabel asked.
“I think... I guess they came over with the major Irish immigration after the potato famine in Ireland in 1849,” Katie said.
“So someone in your family was probably here back in my time,” Mabel said.
“I imagine,” Katie said. “But—”
Mabel waved a
