Kiss Of Darkness

“I’m Stacey LeCroix, Ms. Fraser’s assistant. Welcome.”

“Thanks. This place sounded like heaven,” he said. “It’s a beautiful house. Is Ms. Fraser from New Orleans? Has she owned the house forever?”

“Oh, no, Jessica’s from…actually, I’m not sure where she’s from originally, but she was practicing in Jacksonville before she came here. She’d been here for a few years before I started working for her. I know about the house, though—a friend had been keeping an eye open for her and called her when it came up on the market. But, you’re absolutely right. It’s beautiful. Come on. I’ll show you around.”

A sweeping staircase was the central focus of the foyer, and he could well imagine being swept back through the decades to a time when cotton was king and Southern belles had whisked along the hallways in elegant ballgowns. There were broad double doors to both the right and left, closed now.

“The ladies’ parlor was to your left and the men’s smoking room to the right. Of course, we prohibit smoking in the house, though your room has access to the wraparound balcony, just in case.”

“A cigar here and there,” he told her, shrugging. Her expression clearly displayed what she thought of cigar smoke, but he refused to back down. “However, I prefer my cigars with good brandy, right time, right place,” he told her reassuringly.

“Humph,” she murmured. “Well, in the morning, the doors to the right are open and it’s a lovely dining room. The original dining room is Ms. Fraser’s office. The bedrooms are upstairs. If you lose your key or have any maintenance problems, there’s a groundskeeper’s cottage just to the rear of the main house—you can reach it through the yard. Ms. Fraser and I both work but Gareth Miller, our handyman, is just about always around.”

“No problem,” Bryan said.

She set one foot on the first step of the stairway, and turned, an uncertain look on her face. “You’re a professor, right?” she asked. He had the feeling that she was uncertain, and irritated with herself because of it.

“Yes, just as the booking agency promised.”

She nodded, still frowning. “Of course. Um…sorry. Follow me.”

Up the stairs and to the left, she opened the first door on the right side of the hallway. “I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable,” she assured him. “The bath was added soon after the turn of the last century. Deco fixtures,” she said proudly. “We do charge a bit more than most, but…”

“Worth every cent,” he assured her, and he meant it. The room was huge, and the bath was really something. The room itself offered a queen-size bed, the usual modern entertainment center, a period dresser with a contemporary coffeemaker and microwave, a nineteenth-century desk with a printer and fax machine, and an ample closet. French doors opened out to the wraparound balcony. He strode out, inhaling the rich scent of new-grown foliage, and noting the attractive garden and small pool below. The backyard wasn’t vast, but it was big enough to offer the swimming pool—blessed relief in the dead heat of summer, he was certain—and a small patio and garden. And from back here, the street might as well have been a million miles away. The house was a treasure and, he surmised, worth a small fortune.

He turned. Stacey LeCroix was waiting just inside the room, watching him, still looking uncertain.

“It’s perfect,” he told her.

She smiled. “Yes, isn’t it? Sorry, I must be a little tired today. I…never mind. Ok, what else? Maid service only if you’re out of the room by twelve. We only have two women who come in, and they both have school-age children. If you don’t find anyone in the dining room in the morning, you’ll find a petit déjeuner set up on the patio. And you’re welcome downstairs anytime, except in the office or our private apartments.”

“Naturally,” he agreed.

“So that’s all you have? That backpack?” she asked him.

“For now,” he said simply.

“Well, then…I hope you’ll be comfortable.”

She smiled a little awkwardly. “Oh, your key.” She dug into her skirt pocket and produced a key. “It opens both the front door and your room, and please try not to lose it. We’re not set up with computer cards, so it’s the real key thing.”

“I seldom lose things,” he assured her.

“Glad to hear it.” She stared at him for a moment longer, then left.

He closed the door behind her and walked to the balcony.

It was perfect.

He closed his eyes. If he listened, he could hear the faint sounds of the city. To the rear, all was tranquil. And yet, out there, New Orleans teemed with life.

Night was falling, darkness sweeping down…with a hint of red.

“Oh, my God!”

Jessica stood in the doorway, staring at her wide-eyed assistant as Stacey caught hold of her arm and pulled her back out to the front porch, closing the door behind her.

“Oh, my God what?” Jessica demanded, amused to see Stacey lose her cool.

“He’s gorgeous.”

“Who?” Jessica asked.

“The professor. Wait till you see him. I just…I had to warn you.”

“Warn me? Why? Is he dangerous?”

“Of course not. I’d have never opened the door to someone who looked as if he’d…”

“As if he’d what?”

“Be dangerous. He just wasn’t what I expected,” Stacey assured her.

“I don’t think it’s a prerequisite to be ugly to be a professor,” Jessica said, still amused. And she was glad to be amused, she realized. Nothing had seemed right since she’d returned from Romania. The sky continued to bother her. And even her sessions with kids like Jake seemed disturbing, even though she’d worked with plenty of kids before who had been acting out fantasies, looking for attention. Looking to belong.

“Fine, laugh at me,” Stacey said a little indignantly. “Wait until you see him.”

Jessica stepped past her, entering the house, setting down her purse and briefcase. Stacey followed, hovering near her. Jessica shook her head, laughing. “This isn’t a big corporation,” she whispered. “You’re welcome to have a crush on a guest.”

Stacey flushed. “Don’t be silly. I’m seeing Bobby Munro, and I wouldn’t have a crush on a guest, anyway. He’s just…oh, you’ll see.”

“I’m sure I will.” She still felt a smile twitching her lips as she turned and walked back to the entry table to leaf through the mail.

“Oh, hey,” Stacey said, “Big Jim wants to know if you’re up for a game of Trivial Pursuit.”

“Tonight?”

It was Stacey’s turn to laugh. “Hey, Friday night, wild excitement, you know.”

“Ha, ha.”

“It’ll do you good to have some fun.”

“Well, I mean, your trip turned out to be…eventful,” Stacey said. “I only know what was in the papers, but it sounded pretty awful.”

“My heart bleeds for those kids, but I’m fine. Don’t go tiptoeing around my feelings. Thank you for your concern, but it’s not necessary. I’m not obsessed with it, so don’t you be, okay?” What a crock. It was all still there in her mind, no matter whom she was working with or what she was doing.

She turned. “Trivial Pursuit will be fine. I want to take a shower and chill out first, though. Will you call Big Jim back for me? Tell him about eight. We’ll play here. Who else is coming?”