Read Jimmy Fox - Nick Herald 02 - Lineages and Lies for Free Online Page A

lady.”
    “Battle-axes, every one. Can’t help you with that, either, Dave. The hall was full of cops when I got there. No stacked brunette. But I’ll certainly keep looking.”
    “If I were single, I would, too.” He wrote in his notebook, paused, and gazed at his cheap ballpoint for a moment. “I was just wondering … you being the expert and all—mind if I give you a call on this case, if I have a genealogical question? Which seems pretty likely. We’ll put it on the meter, of course … Professor.” He grinned.
    Nick decided Bartly was being deferential, not sarcastic. It was nice to hear the title again.
    “Definitely, call me,” Nick said. “But I’m not billing for my help; maybe next time.” He felt an obligation to his friend to find the murderer; Bluemantle would have done no less for Nick.
    “Fair enough, Professor. I’ll probably be in touch. So, I guess that’s all,” Bartly said. They stood up. “Before you go, can I see some identification? Standard procedure. Driver’s license—if you don’t mind.”
    “Will this do?” Nick took a traffic ticket from his wallet. Another damn left turn on St. Charles Avenue the day before.“New Orleans: the City of No Left Turns. Just look at that, Dave.” Nick was still angry over being ticketed, though it was certainly not his first such infraction. “This is what NOPD is worried about, while genealogists are keeling over at the Grande Marchioness!”
    Bartly studied the ticket and jotted some further notes. He handed it back to Nick.
    “Genealogist,” said the detective. “Singular, so far, and I hope it stays that way. But I get your hyperbole.”
    “You didn’t skip English classes at LSU, I’m pleased to see.”
    “I’ll take care of this for you,” Bartly said, obviously tickled to be verbally jousting with a man of letters. “You’ll be getting your license in a day or two. You can go now. And the department wishes to thank you for your assistance.”
    He offered his hand this time.

    Jillian Vair took a long drag from her cigarette and then sipped her Margarita. She savored each sip from the shallow glass, as if the bright green liquid and the encrusted salt around the wide rim were an antidote to a slow-acting poison sapping her strength.
    They had come to this tiny French Quarter bistro after their separate sessions with the detective. Eleven o’clock was approaching.
    She smoked almost reflexively, as one would blink or breathe.
    “I quit … about a dozen times,” she explained to Nick after a minor coughing fit, her lungs protesting the latest insult to recuperation. “When I get too nervous, I just can’t help it.”
    “Murders do that to me, too,” Nick said with flirtatious wit, eyeing her over a flute of fine champagne, which was serving to lift his spirits considerably. “Fortunately, my pacifier is comparatively benign.” He held up his glass. “If I were a physician instead of a lowly PhD, I’d advise you to give up the cancer sticks and steer clear of murders.”
    A welter of emotions surged across Jillian’s beautiful face.
Resentment, anger, guilt?
Nick could only guess, and he wasn’t wild about doing so, for he didn’t want to discover some ugly truth about her. That would tend to put a damper on the young flame of their Romance.
    She wanted to say something but stopped herself; a long, nervous drag bottled up her words.
    Her reaction was out of all proportion to a comment intended merely to amuse. Nick couldn’t help wondering why.
And did I intend merely to amuse?
    After more deep drags and sustained sips, Jillian regained a semblance of composure, and with it the charm he’d seen and admired that morning. Their relationship forged in the trauma of Bluemantle’s death and the unnerving investigation that followed, they were quickly becoming more and more attracted to each other—or so it seemed to Nick. His hand sought hers across the tablecloth.
    New Orleans is a passionate city, where an