Read Online Harrison Investigations 2 Ghost Walk by Heather Graham - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Heather Graham
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Julian had gone on to warn her that telling her bizarre tale would either make the police think she was a kook who had been giving her own tours for too long or a suspicious individual herself.
But the dream bothered her on a daily basis. No. Hourly. Constantly.
She felt a pang in her heart that was so sharp it might have been delivered by a knife.
Oh, God, Andy, I can't stop believing that you came to me for help.
And I failed you.
She closed her eyes tightly as she stood near the coffin, desperately trying to remember everything that she had seen that night.
"Nikki."
It was Patricia, looking at her with dampened eyes. "Come on, now. Let them finish."
Nikki nodded and looked around. The funeral had been small, but a few people had made it. There were her neighbors, and even Madame D'Orso from the coffee shop, and a few other local business owners.
As always, there were the curious, tourists, who happened to be at the cemetery and slipped in to join the crowd at the service.
A stretch limo awaited their group, and Nikki knew it was time to walk away.
She looked back. The cemetery workers were in the tomb, getting ready to slide the remains into the appropriate vault.
The band played to the end.
They drove back into the French Quarter, and then went through another ritual, the after-service gathering at Madame D'Orso's.
Madame was in her element. Tall and buxom, with her silver hair swept high on top of her head, she took charge naturally. She had liked Andy. Besides, it was her place. Nikki realized that she was one of the few people who knew that Madame's real name was Debra Smith and she'd actually had ancestors come over on the
Mayflower
. But a pretense of being French was a good thing for business in the French Quarter.
She had come through today, closing her café in the morning, then opening in honor of Andrea in the afternoon.
Julian, Nathan, Mitch and Patricia were trying to do what was usually done on such occasions, remember the person with affection and a smile.
It wasn't easy, when some people clearly thought it was her own fault for being a junkie.
People cared, but Nikki knew, too, that most of them would not think about that day much after they had returned to their regular lives.
At last, as the hour grew late, people began to leave.
Madame, who had truly been the perfect hostess, settled tiredly into a chair by Nikki. She patted her hand where it lay on the table. "Come on, child," she said. "Andy wouldn't want you to be morose forever."
Nikki nodded. "No, of course, you're right."
Madame smoothed a stray lock of hair from Nikki's face. "You're plumb ashen, girl. Pale as if you'd seen a ghost."
Nikki's brows arched. Julian, who was standing nearby, turned and stared at Nikki.
She frowned back at him, then turned to Madame.
"Hey… do you remember that last day when Andy and I were in here?" she asked.
"Well, vaguely," Madame said. "You all come in most days, you know."
"I know, but that day, there was a… kind of a bum hanging around. He looked as if he'd be good looking if he had a bath and a haircut."
Madame looked at her blankly.
"You must have seen him," Nikki persisted. "I asked you about him, so I figured you would have noticed him when you went back inside."
"Honey, I see lots of folks. And we get our share of bums. If one passed out on my floor, I'd have the police in so fast he wouldn't even get to exhale. Other than that, I doubt I'd notice."
"He must have come and gone while you were busy," Nikki murmured.
Madame smiled. "Do you know what I do remember? Andy teasing you about the fact that you needed to get yourself a fellow."
"That's when the guy was in here," Nikki said triumphantly.
"Honey, I'm really sorry, I don't know why it's so important, but I really didn't see him."
Julian, frowning, took a chair at the table. "Nikki… do you think the guy followed you and Andy? Maybe that's something you should report to the police."
She shook her head,
But the dream bothered her on a daily basis. No. Hourly. Constantly.
She felt a pang in her heart that was so sharp it might have been delivered by a knife.
Oh, God, Andy, I can't stop believing that you came to me for help.
And I failed you.
She closed her eyes tightly as she stood near the coffin, desperately trying to remember everything that she had seen that night.
"Nikki."
It was Patricia, looking at her with dampened eyes. "Come on, now. Let them finish."
Nikki nodded and looked around. The funeral had been small, but a few people had made it. There were her neighbors, and even Madame D'Orso from the coffee shop, and a few other local business owners.
As always, there were the curious, tourists, who happened to be at the cemetery and slipped in to join the crowd at the service.
A stretch limo awaited their group, and Nikki knew it was time to walk away.
She looked back. The cemetery workers were in the tomb, getting ready to slide the remains into the appropriate vault.
The band played to the end.
They drove back into the French Quarter, and then went through another ritual, the after-service gathering at Madame D'Orso's.
Madame was in her element. Tall and buxom, with her silver hair swept high on top of her head, she took charge naturally. She had liked Andy. Besides, it was her place. Nikki realized that she was one of the few people who knew that Madame's real name was Debra Smith and she'd actually had ancestors come over on the
Mayflower
. But a pretense of being French was a good thing for business in the French Quarter.
She had come through today, closing her café in the morning, then opening in honor of Andrea in the afternoon.
Julian, Nathan, Mitch and Patricia were trying to do what was usually done on such occasions, remember the person with affection and a smile.
It wasn't easy, when some people clearly thought it was her own fault for being a junkie.
People cared, but Nikki knew, too, that most of them would not think about that day much after they had returned to their regular lives.
At last, as the hour grew late, people began to leave.
Madame, who had truly been the perfect hostess, settled tiredly into a chair by Nikki. She patted her hand where it lay on the table. "Come on, child," she said. "Andy wouldn't want you to be morose forever."
Nikki nodded. "No, of course, you're right."
Madame smoothed a stray lock of hair from Nikki's face. "You're plumb ashen, girl. Pale as if you'd seen a ghost."
Nikki's brows arched. Julian, who was standing nearby, turned and stared at Nikki.
She frowned back at him, then turned to Madame.
"Hey… do you remember that last day when Andy and I were in here?" she asked.
"Well, vaguely," Madame said. "You all come in most days, you know."
"I know, but that day, there was a… kind of a bum hanging around. He looked as if he'd be good looking if he had a bath and a haircut."
Madame looked at her blankly.
"You must have seen him," Nikki persisted. "I asked you about him, so I figured you would have noticed him when you went back inside."
"Honey, I see lots of folks. And we get our share of bums. If one passed out on my floor, I'd have the police in so fast he wouldn't even get to exhale. Other than that, I doubt I'd notice."
"He must have come and gone while you were busy," Nikki murmured.
Madame smiled. "Do you know what I do remember? Andy teasing you about the fact that you needed to get yourself a fellow."
"That's when the guy was in here," Nikki said triumphantly.
"Honey, I'm really sorry, I don't know why it's so important, but I really didn't see him."
Julian, frowning, took a chair at the table. "Nikki… do you think the guy followed you and Andy? Maybe that's something you should report to the police."
She shook her head,
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