Read Murder in the Rue Ursulines for Free Online

me. “Don’t look at my screen, okay? I’m going to have to do something you won’t approve of. Just keep playing Tourist Season.”
    “I don’t want to know what you’re doing.” I turned back to the screen in front of me. A man and a woman were copulating in a doorway. I aimed, fired and they both exploded. Five thousand points! In spite of myself, I grinned in satisfaction. Everyone in New Orleans is going to want to play this game, I thought to myself.  “You know, you’re probably right about this game.” I said as I took aim at another drunken tourist,  this one staggering out in the road carrying a forty-eight ounce daiquiri cup and wearing a feather boa. BLAM! Another twenty-five hundred points. “It’s kind of addicting.” I fired at a car with MICHIGAN plates crawling along at about five miles an hour while everyone in the car gawked at the buildings going by. It exploded, body parts flying everywhere, giving me another ten thousand points. I couldn’t help myself. I laughed out loud.
    It was fun. “The New Orleans Tourism Board would probably pay you not to put this on the market.” I added, aiming at a couple of girls in sorority sweatshirts puking in a gutter. I missed, and shot a woman walking her dog on the other side of the street. I lost ten thousand points. Locals were worth a lot more than tourists.
    “There.” Jephtha leaned back in his chair with a triumphant grin. One of his printers began to hum. Pages began coming out into the drop tray. “I told you it would be a piece of cake. I’m printing out the bill of sale right now. But—“ he held up a long and bony index finger, “this is the person who bought and registeredthe computer. It doesn’t mean they still have it.” He picked up a page and whistled. “Glynis Parrish? As in Glynis Parrish, the movie star?”
    With real regret, I turned away from Tourist Season and took the paper from him. Sure enough, there it was in black and white. A MacBook Pro, purchased at an Apple store in Beverly Hills. I definitely didn’t want to know how he got this. I stood up and smiled at Jephtha. “E-mail me an invoice, and I’ll get a check to you this week.”
    “Aren’t you going to tell me if it’s the Glynis Parrish or not?” He stuck out his lower lip in a pout that made him look about ten years old.
    I laughed and winked at him. “What you don’t know won’t hurt you.” I slipped the bill of sale into the folder with the rest of the e-mails, and tucked it under my arm. I called out a goodbye to Abby, and headed out the front door.
    My cell phone rang just as I was getting into my car. I grinned. It was my best friend, Paige. “What’s going on, Paige?”
    “Hey, you have dinner plans? Ryan has his kids tonight, and I thought he should have some quality time with them.” She said. She’d been dating Ryan Tujague for a few months now. Usually she blew off a guy after a couple of dates, so this could be serious. I was happy for her. She’d had a rather checkered past when it came to men.
    I replied without missing a beat. “It’s really insulting that you only call me when your boyfriend blows you off, you know.” Paige and I met in college, and have been close ever since. Her favorite thing to do is give me shit—and over the years, she’s gotten really good at it. I don’t mind, because I know it’s how she shows affection. So I give her shit right back. People listening to us talk would probably think we couldn’t stand each other. Her sense of humor is a little warped, so we make a good pair. There’s nothing quite like watching a bad movie with her over a few joints and a bottle of wine. She worked as a reporter for the Times-Picayune, andhad even been nominated for a couple of Pulitzer prizes. One of the paper’s biggest stars, she was remarkably humble about it. When people complimented her on something she’d written, she’d just dismiss it with a simple, “Just doing my job, but thanks.” 
    She’s