Misisipi by Michael Reilly

Author:Michael Reilly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: new orleans, supernatural, psychological thriller, literary fiction, hurricane, gulf coast, katrina, natural disasters, nola

Chapter 41

They discovered a bar still open on Toulouse Street. Large wooden boards covered the windows, but through the door glass, Scott saw a handful of patrons dotted around tables on which naked candles burned. All lights out, a plasma TV on the back wall offered the only other illumination within.

“I don’t understand,” Scott said, as Stencek held the door out for him. “Why is this place still open?”

Whipcrack winds threatened to rip the door from Stencek’s hand. “Ask them on the other side,” he growled. “Move your ass.”

The lone barman, with short rasta locks and a neat goatee, set two shot glasses on the bar as they walked over.

“Our lucky night,” Stencek greeted him.

“Yeah,” the barman agreed. “Owner evacuated this morning, told me to shut up by Six. Still tourists out‘n about. Don’t seem right, tossing em yet. What’ll it be?”

“I doubt you got any chow,” Stencek inquired.

“Doubt not. Is your lucky night. Drinks?”

“Sprite for me.” Stencek looked at Scott. “Bring him… three of your dirtiest mojitos.”

The barman tossed two bar towels their way. “You best dry off meantimes. Have a seat and I’ll get right to you.”

They sat beneath one of the ornate framed windows where the view on offer was the backside of the protective sheet outside. Scott watched the three squat candles flickering in the center of the table until the barman brought their drinks over in plastic cups.

“Hope y’all don’t mind Go-Cups,” he said. “I don’t plan staying on for washing duty.”

“What’s with the candles?” Scott pointed to the TV. “You have power.”

“Could go any time so why wait?” the barman replied. “I heard it’s already out Gentilly-ways. Sides, I think it looks nicer this way. Makes it harder for her to find us, safe and snug here in the shadows. You like seafood?” he asked Stencek.

“Sure.” Stencek removed a hundred from his wallet.

The barman shook his head. “Call it lagniappe for the Lady.”

Both men stared blankly at him.

“A gift to honor our stormy guest,” the barman explained. “I might need all the karma I can grab. Drinks’s on the house, food too. Refrigerator’s probably gonna be out by morning so you’re doing me a favor.”

Stencek lifted his Sprite to Scott. “Sorry about the cuffs but you shouldn’t have hit me.”

Scott tipped his own cup to Stencek’s. “I’m sorry too… but you shoulda ducked.”

The barman reappeared with a plate of golden-fried golf ball-sized bites, about two dozen in a heaped mound.

“Red chili crabcakes. Fresh this lunchtime so I microwaved em for y’all just now. If you want hot sauce or Zatarains, I’ll fetch it for ya but then I’m gonna have to take that hun’red for you disrespectin the recipe.”

Stencek laughed, “Never. I’ll even go on bended knee while I eat them, just you watch.”

“Aw’right, Brother,” the barman smiled. “Go forth and sin no more. Til then, bon appétit.”

Stencek pushed the plate in Scott’s direction. Scott shook his head.

Stencek pulled the plate back. “Fair nuff.”

While Stencek set about the crabcakes, Scott sipped his mojito and

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