“Maybe. We have good people on it,” Dan said. “Anyway, I am pretty capable. I can help get the mules harnessed.”
Dan was a big help. Between them and Benny working carefully in order not to disturb his costuming, they were quickly ready. And with Matt leading the way, they headed toward the French Quarter and their curb at the square across from Café du Monde.
As Katie drove her carriage, she tried to articulate her thoughts to Dan.
“This thing with the number six. We know Neil and Jennie—I’m going to stick with those names until we know their real names—were part of it. We believe there’s a big man behind it. Literally. But they’d need three more people if they were going to be a group with the power of six.”
“They were trying to recruit Nathan Lawrence. Maybe they did,” Dan said. “Mild-mannered schoolteacher by day and vicious axeman by night.”
“You think so?”
“No, but it’s a group that needs money, and I told you Nathan Lawrence may be a teacher, but he inherited money. All this travel, fake IDs, it takes money.”
“Then...who could it be? All we know right now is the big man, who is maybe pulling the strings, and Neil. Jennie is dead. So...”
“They may need new people all the time, since it seems even the members of the group wind up dead if they might endanger the game,” Dan said. He was quiet then, thoughtful.
“What?”
“The casting director?” he said.
“What? She was terrified!”
“Or was she? And Nathan Lawrence...innocent and duped? Or maybe he was up to something.”
“But you had him under surveillance, and you’re supposedly good at what you do,” Katie said. She frowned, looking at him. “You still don’t think George—”
“No, actually, I don’t.” He hesitated, looking at her. “Okay, listen, we’ve had people monitoring the security tapes at his hotel. For his protection as much as anything else. George hasn’t left the hotel. He’s rented a dozen movies, and he has become friends with everyone working in the restaurant there. George is—”
“Is what?” Katie asked.
“Scared. I mean, maybe he was part of it once and knew even before we did that Jennie was going to wind up dead. But don’t be upset with me! I don’t think so. George has been used. I believe this thing is twofold. The big man, I guess we’ll call him, stepped into the whole Axeman/Allan Pierce legend, as far back as Katrina. Your father happened to be a stand-up guy who got in his way. Everything was planned. The big man either watched and studied your father himself or had his followers do it. Probably the latter, since Jennie and Neil evidently killed your parents. They missed with George, but that turned out to work for them, and they found out where he was living and made their next kill, that we know about, in the Orlando area. Where George fit the bill perfectly. They knew he was here, and they probably laughed at the fact he didn’t recognize them when they were both working for the movie. Now...”
“Who is the big man?” Katie whispered.
“We’ll drive around, and I’ll listen to your wonderful stories of history and beyond, and we’ll see what we can find out.”
They reached the square. Matt hadn’t even had time to cue up on the curb before he’d been hailed. As they pulled in behind Lorna, Dan jumped down and headed away from everyone to make a phone call. She wondered if he was calling Axel or Ryder or if anything else had been discovered. When a smiling woman approached her, she smiled in return and indicated Lorna was the next to go. Lorna nodded her thanks.
Benny was already in place near Decatur Street, where he could be viewed from those sitting street-side at Café du Monde.
But though she had sent the first group on to Lorna’s carriage, there was a second group that approached her almost immediately after.
Dan saw; he ended his phone call and jumped back on the carriage to be with her.
“The Axeman! The Axeman! Tell us about the old Axeman,” a teen boy in the group demanded immediately.
“Gavin!” his mother said with dismay.
“Well, if he is immortal, maybe it is him again!” the boy said.
“Let our guide—guides—tell their stories,” the father chastised. “Please. No more on the Axeman.”
They started out. Katie told them about the founding of the city, some of her great stories about the Baroness de Pontalba and how buildings she’d had constructed in the 1840s still formed two sides of Jackson Square, allowing for shops, apartments, restaurants and museums. She talked about the War of 1812, the Civil War, the changes of flags over the city...
And when they went by Lafitte’s, she talked about the Lafitte brothers, the good and the bad, the triumphant and the sad. But just as she was ending that segment of her talk, she went silent for a minute, so long that the father cleared his throat and said, “Miss?”
“Oh, sorry. I’m so sorry. Lost my train of thought there for a minute,” Katie said. But she looked at Dan and gave a nod, indicating he needed to look to the street.
He turned his head in the direction she’d gestured to, and she knew he saw what she wanted him to see.
Mabel was strolling down the street, arm in arm with a man.
The man was in breeches, a white shirt, vest, socks and short boots; he wore a jaunty tricorn hat.
It was Gray Simmons, one of the ghosts of the city Katie had come to know.
A man who had lost his life at the Battle of New Orleans but remained to see that the city he had loved so much and died for grew and hopefully would prosper. A pirate, and a hero. That all depended on one’s viewpoint, he had told her once.
“I’ll jump off,” Dan murmured to Katie.
She nodded and slowed the carriage, and Dan jumped off, waving to her crew.
“He, uh, had a meeting,” Katie explained,
