took a long swallow of her beer.
Aidan didn’t mind having a drink with his brothers. But, after the day they’d just had, he would have preferred a few quiet beers in the hotel bar. However, both his brothers were intent on catching every group that played, not just in the French Quarter but in the whole parish. They had chosen this place tonight because they had not only met the band, they’d jammed with them.
He sat back in his chair, appreciating the quality of the music. He wasn’t sure he could say the same for the band’s appearance, though. They weren’t exactly Goth, but they were all wearing long black cotton jackets over black jeans. He wasn’t quite sure what look they were going for. Vampire? Voodoo? They did call themselves the Stakes.
Still, the music was good.
And music and alcohol might ease some of the tension he was feeling.
Right now, most of that had to do with Dr. Jon Abel, Detective Hal Vincent and even Jonas Burningham.
He could understand their attitude up to a point, but only to a point.
Yes, New Orleans and the entire Gulf region had been devastated. Yes, hundreds of bodies that hadn’t been interred in aboveground “cities of the dead” had been washed out of their graves and their corpses and coffins washed up, along with the fresher corpses of those who’d died in the storm.
But that didn’t deny the fact that the discovery of a human bone needed to be handled with respect and a certain urgency. And it was just too bizarre to find two human thighbones in one day, even if they had been miles apart.
Aidan had expected Jon Abel to complain about being called back out. But he was a medical examiner, and he was best qualified to determine whether there was some connection between the two bones. And in fact he had immediately made the observation that the bones had come from different people—unless there had been a woman walking around at some point with two right legs. He’d been curt and clearly annoyed at being there, though.
Hal Vincent had seemed equally unhappy, pointing out that they were actually outside his jurisdiction. He was at least polite, though, agreeing that the discovery of any human remains had to be taken seriously. Even Jonas had acted as if he thought Aidan was making a mountain out of a molehill and suggested that maybe he was suffering some kind of delayed reaction to Serena’s death.
Even his brothers had been somewhat perplexed by the strength of his reaction, especially when a thorough search failed to produce any more body parts.
That fact actually disturbed Aidan more than anything else.
The others—including Jeremy and Zach—believed that the most plausible explanation was that the bone had washed up from the old family graveyard just behind the house and slightly to the east of the slave quarters.
The graveyard was an impressive place. It had a number of vaults—the largest one, where most of the Flynns had been interred, being the most impressive. Others had apparently been erected for the families of married daughters, distant relatives, servants, even friends. There were both in-and aboveground graves. And he supposed that it wasn’t actually illogical to think that the bone might have come from there, though there wasn’t any actual evidence that the river had topped its banks and washed anyone away.
What bothered him, he supposed, was everyone’s easy assumption and acceptance that the bone must be old. What the hell was the matter with them? Were they too jaded not to wonder or care if someone had met with foul play?
Or was he himself so determined to find evil intent, even where there was none, that he was creating a crime scene out of nothing? After all, the second bone, at least, had shown no trace of tissue and had been found not far from a graveyard.
“What do you think?” Zach asked, talking loudly to be heard above the music.
“What?” Aidan turned his attention back to the present moment.
“Of the band?”
Aidan didn’t mind having a drink with his brothers. But, after the day they’d just had, he would have preferred a few quiet beers in the hotel bar. However, both his brothers were intent on catching every group that played, not just in the French Quarter but in the whole parish. They had chosen this place tonight because they had not only met the band, they’d jammed with them.
He sat back in his chair, appreciating the quality of the music. He wasn’t sure he could say the same for the band’s appearance, though. They weren’t exactly Goth, but they were all wearing long black cotton jackets over black jeans. He wasn’t quite sure what look they were going for. Vampire? Voodoo? They did call themselves the Stakes.
Still, the music was good.
And music and alcohol might ease some of the tension he was feeling.
Right now, most of that had to do with Dr. Jon Abel, Detective Hal Vincent and even Jonas Burningham.
He could understand their attitude up to a point, but only to a point.
Yes, New Orleans and the entire Gulf region had been devastated. Yes, hundreds of bodies that hadn’t been interred in aboveground “cities of the dead” had been washed out of their graves and their corpses and coffins washed up, along with the fresher corpses of those who’d died in the storm.
But that didn’t deny the fact that the discovery of a human bone needed to be handled with respect and a certain urgency. And it was just too bizarre to find two human thighbones in one day, even if they had been miles apart.
Aidan had expected Jon Abel to complain about being called back out. But he was a medical examiner, and he was best qualified to determine whether there was some connection between the two bones. And in fact he had immediately made the observation that the bones had come from different people—unless there had been a woman walking around at some point with two right legs. He’d been curt and clearly annoyed at being there, though.
Hal Vincent had seemed equally unhappy, pointing out that they were actually outside his jurisdiction. He was at least polite, though, agreeing that the discovery of any human remains had to be taken seriously. Even Jonas had acted as if he thought Aidan was making a mountain out of a molehill and suggested that maybe he was suffering some kind of delayed reaction to Serena’s death.
Even his brothers had been somewhat perplexed by the strength of his reaction, especially when a thorough search failed to produce any more body parts.
That fact actually disturbed Aidan more than anything else.
The others—including Jeremy and Zach—believed that the most plausible explanation was that the bone had washed up from the old family graveyard just behind the house and slightly to the east of the slave quarters.
The graveyard was an impressive place. It had a number of vaults—the largest one, where most of the Flynns had been interred, being the most impressive. Others had apparently been erected for the families of married daughters, distant relatives, servants, even friends. There were both in-and aboveground graves. And he supposed that it wasn’t actually illogical to think that the bone might have come from there, though there wasn’t any actual evidence that the river had topped its banks and washed anyone away.
What bothered him, he supposed, was everyone’s easy assumption and acceptance that the bone must be old. What the hell was the matter with them? Were they too jaded not to wonder or care if someone had met with foul play?
Or was he himself so determined to find evil intent, even where there was none, that he was creating a crime scene out of nothing? After all, the second bone, at least, had shown no trace of tissue and had been found not far from a graveyard.
“What do you think?” Zach asked, talking loudly to be heard above the music.
“What?” Aidan turned his attention back to the present moment.
“Of the band?”
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