Moon over Bourbon Street - a Bubba the Monster Hunter Novella by John G. Hartness

Author:John G. Hartness [Hartness, John G.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Falstaff Books
Published: 2015-10-26T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Dark fell on New Orleans, and the city really came alive. The bustling tourist city of daytime New Orleans shifted into something darker, more primal, dirtier, more real. In short, my kind of place. Amy and I stepped out of our hotel onto Bourbon Street and I stood there for a second, letting the primal urges of humanity wash over me.

“You love it here, don’t you, Bubba?” Amy asked, a note of surprise in her voice.

“Darlin’, I’ve only found a couple cities in my life where I really felt like I could stand to stay for a while. This is one of ‘em. I guess in the back of my mind I always hoped I’d retire here, buy a little jazz club, make the best damn margaritas in town, and spend the rest of my days listening to incredible musicians and pouring drinks for tourists.”

“I never knew that,” she said, a little smile playing across her lips.

“Hell, Amy, don’t feel bad. I’ve known him since before he could drive, and I never knew that.” Skeeter’s squeaky voice could ruin even the sweetest moment, and this one was no different. I turned, and my best friend had a good-looking police detective on his arm and smile on his face fit to beat the band. Looked like I wasn’t the only one to get a nap this afternoon. Skeeter looked like a cross between a stereotypical tourist and The Joker from The Killing Joke in a Hawaiian shirt, bright pink shorts, and brown loafers with black socks pulled up almost to his knees. Detective Ponté was much more the picture of New Orleans dress casual in khakis, loafers, and a short-sleeved pastel dress shirt untucked to hide his service weapon, or so I assumed.

Amy wore a light jacket for the same reason, with her Sig at the small of her back in a paddle holster. I had my Langhorne Slim shirt from earlier, jeans and my Doc Martens, with a Hawaiian shirt of my own hiding Bertha in a shoulder rig. But I wore it better than Skeeter. Might have had something to do with the socks.

“What’s the plan?” Ponté asked. “Catherine was plenty irritated when you wouldn’t share it,” he said with a grin.

“I already sent Eddie off to check the cemeteries, so we wander around together, then split off and try to look attractive to vampires,” I said.

“That’s it?” Ponté asked. “That’s the plan you wouldn’t share with Catherine?”

“Yep.” I nodded.

“What’s the big secret to that? It’s kinda the logical thing to do,” the well-dressed detective said.

“Yeah, but she pissed me off, so I was being petty.”

“That could come back to haunt you later,” he said.

“I doubt it,” I replied. “I’ve got a long history of not being the thing you want to mess with in the dark.”

“It’s true, babe, I’ve seen it,” Skeeter said. Babe? I looked at Amy, and she gave a tiny shake of her head. I made a mental note to ask about that later. In private.

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