The Satyr's Curse (The Satyr's Curse Series Book 1) by Weis Alexandrea

Author:Weis, Alexandrea [Weis, Alexandrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WEBA Publishing
Published: 2015-03-19T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 12

The Times-Picayune offices were located just off the I-10 Interstate, heading into the city from Jefferson Parish. Since 1837, the newspaper had chronicled New Orleans through the city’s growth, captivity during the Civil War, participation in both World Wars, and struggle during assorted depressions, recessions, and economic booms. The paper had documented the trials of corrupt politicians, checked the pulse of the city’s voters during elections, and had been a sounding board for social issues. In more recent days, it had nursed New Orleans through the hopelessness of Katrina, and reveled in the city’s resurrection when the Saints finally won the Super Bowl.

As Jazzmyn made her way to the elevators inside the building that housed the newspaper staff and printing press, she wondered why she had come. There was no way a man of Julian’s age could have known or remembered Susan Livaudais. He couldn’t have been older than forty, but the nagging similarities of the woman he had described and the one in the newspaper bothered Jazzmyn.

“Maybe all Kyle’s dire warnings about the man are getting to me,” she muttered as she rode the elevator down to the basement.

But Jazzmyn already knew that was not the real reason why she had made the trip to the newspaper. She desperately needed to uncover something about Julian’s past. As time went on, and her feelings for him deepened, she felt compelled to learn everything she could about him. Most of all, Jazzmyn wanted to find out why she had such an intense attraction to the man, an attraction that only seemed to be getting stronger with every passing day.

“You made it,” Harry DeMonte said as he greeted Jazzmyn when the elevator doors opened onto The Times-Picayune morgue.

Jazzmyn was pleased to see that Harry was still the same gangly, freckle-faced youth he had been in high school. He had always reminded her of the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz, but unlike the character in the children’s story that had always been looking to better his brain, Harry had been content with who and what he was. He had been the geek in her class with a love of English literature and a knack for words. Always the go to guy for English homework, Jazzmyn had not been too surprised to find him working for the newspaper. In high school, it had always been his dream job.

“Wow,” Harry exclaimed, as his deep green eyes inspected Jazzmyn. “You look great, Jazz. What’s it been, ten years?” He kissed her cheek.

“More like twelve, Harry. Graduation was the last time we saw each other.” She gave his thick mop of auburn hair a playful rubbing like she had always done in high school. “You haven’t changed,” she assured him.

“Oh, I’ve changed all right. I discovered a strange pain in my back the other day, and then in my knee. We’re getting old, Jazz.”

Jazzmyn gazed about the windowless basement. Above, bright fluorescent lights shone down on a dull, yellow linoleum floor, and cinderblock walls painted gray encased the square room.

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