Behind the Mask. Joanna Wayne

of sights, sounds and tantalizing odors. She slowed her pace to a crawl as she neared the entrance to St. Louis Cathedral, marveling at the white structure that watched over Jackson Square like a kingly ruler.

      It would have been only a short walk from her hotel to the Court of Two Sisters, where she was meeting the gang for brunch. Too short. That was why she’d taken the long way around, through the street musicians, mimes and sidewalk artists who breathed life into Jackson Square.

      It was early for this part of the city, not quite eleven, but the tourists in town for the carnival were already out in droves.

      “Paint your face, miss? Only five dollars. A special price for a pretty lady.”

      Lindsey smiled at the thin young man who’d spoken, but declined his offer. A little lipstick and a touch of blush were plenty of paint for her. She crossed over the narrow street to peek in the window of La Madeleine.

      She couldn’t resist a glimpse of the fresh-baked breads and pastries that filled the shelves at the bakery. The door opened, and a group of laughing tourists walked out, holding the door open long enough for Lindsey to catch the aroma of strong French coffee.

      New Orleans, the Crescent City, the town where anything goes. Friday night, she’d had a taste of everything bad about the city. Today, she was experiencing the excitement of everything good. She stopped for a minute and watched a laughing clown bend and twist a couple of balloons into a floppy-eared puppy and hand it to a wide-eyed tyke. Smiling, she hurried on to meet her friends. God, she’d missed this city.

      She’d loved New Orleans from the day they moved into town, just a week before her fifteenth birthday. She’d hoped against hope that for once her dad would resist the urge to open a new branch of his mining and drilling company in some foreign country. Prayed that for once he would stay in one location long enough for her to make real friends.

      And she’d gotten her wish. They’d stayed four years. Long enough for her to graduate from Dominican High. Long enough for her to meet, and fall head over heels for, the handsome and popular Graham Dufour.

      Graham was a big part of the reason she’d loved the city. And he was the real reason she’d stayed away for so long. She might not admit it to anyone else, but she could at least be honest with herself. Coming back to New Orleans always meant the possibility of running into Graham. And now that she had, she knew she’d been wise in staying away.

      Lindsey stepped around a crack in the sidewalk and then walked through the open door into the busy restaurant. Strains of a lively jazz tune floated down the brick hallway as she squeezed past groups of patrons waiting for a table. Stretching her neck to see over the balloons that decorated the patio, she spotted Danielle and Brigit at a table near the fountain.

      “About time you made it. We’re already on our second mimosa,” Brigit said.

      “Good. You two have all the champagne you want, but I’m taking my orange juice straight. After Friday night, I don’t mind if I never have champagne again.”

      “Party pooper,” Brigit said mockingly, scooting over to another chair and motioning Lindsey into the chair between them. “You need to sit by Danielle. Maybe you can talk some sense into her. She’s letting that rat of a husband move back in.”

      Lindsey took the chair between the two, but not because she was in any shape to do marriage counseling. She’d already had more than enough emotional upheaval for one weekend. Fortunately Grace Ann and the rest of the entourage rounded the corner, and a new series of hugs and excited chatter began.

      Finally they managed to halt the gossip long enough to help themselves to plates of steaming seafood omelets, oversize portions of grits and grillades and mouth-watering eggs Benedict.

      “How do you people stay so thin?” Lindsey asked, finishing the last boiled shrimp on her plate.

      “Who’s thin?” Emily asked, patting her stomach, which now had stretched to support the new life growing inside it.

      “Chasing kids will keep you from getting fat,” Grace Ann added, pulling out pictures of her latest.

      “Oh, how adorable!” Brigit exclaimed, oohing and aahing over the photographs.

      “So, when are you taking the plunge?” Angela asked Brigit teasingly. “If you’d settle down with one man, you could have one of those adorable babies of your own.”

      “As soon as I meet the right man.”

      “What about that hunk you were with at the Minerva Ball?” Emily asked. “The man looked like a keeper to me.”

      “He’s nice, but the bells didn’t ring. Besides, he can’t afford me.”

      “Money isn’t everything, Brigit. But hang in there for the bells. Love may not make the world go around, but it sure makes the bedroom a lot more fun.”

      “Tell me about it, Grace Ann. You and Michael looked like brand-new lovers at the ball the other night,” Angela said. “It was hard to believe you’re the parents of two toddlers.”

      “I have news, too,” Beth announced, breaking into the banter. “But not in the kids or lovers department. I’m going back to the university next year. I’ve decided to work on my Ph.D.”

      A round of exuberant cheers and hugs followed her announcement. Lindsey sat back and listened, letting the warmth of camaraderie wash over her. Ten years without a reunion with her friends had been much too long. Everyone had so much to share.

      She smiled as Danielle set a bowl of bread pudding drenched in rum sauce and a cup of café au lait in front of her.

      “Eat up. The lady over there said it was delicious.”

      Lindsey looked in the direction Danielle had pointed. The woman was petite and young, and long blond curls framed her heart-shaped face. A shudder climbed Lindsey’s spine as memories of Friday night attacked her senses. She spooned a mouthful of the rich dessert, but the delectable sweetness couldn’t lift her spirits. Not now.

      A minute ago she had been one of the relaxed and carefree crowd enjoying Sunday-morning brunch. But seeing the blonde, so alive and happy, had plunged her back into reality. And the reality for Lindsey was that another woman, one much like the friends around her table, had been murdered two nights ago.

      The scene had never been far from her mind, even though Brigit and the others were carefully avoiding any mention of her passing out during the parade. And they hadn’t brought up the subject of Graham Dufour. Bless them for that.

      She sat quietly, watching the others. The Dominican Daredevils. They were just a group of girls who’d gone to high school together. But something had happened between them. They’d formed a special bond that nothing could separate. Not heartbreak and not good fortune. Nothing but...

      The noonday sun shone down on the open patio, causing most of the diners to shed their sweaters and light jackets. Lindsey pulled hers tighter. A strange chill coursed through her veins. They were all together today. Good friends, young, energetic. The best years of their lives should still lie ahead of them.

      So why was this ominous feeling weighing her down? She couldn’t explain it, couldn’t even understand it herself, but somehow she knew the truth, felt it in some secret place inside her soul. They would never all be together this way again.

      * * *

       THE MAN INHALED SLOWLY, taking a shred of solace from the half-smoked cigarette. This was no way to live, a one-room apartment with nothing in it that belonged to him except a few changes of clothing.

       He should be flying to some exotic port by now. And he would have been if things had gone as planned. But they hadn’t.

       He took a last puff on the cigarette and then ground it into the ashtray. With trembling hands, he picked up a half-empty bottle of pills and shook several into his hand. Deliberately, he placed them between his dry lips, chasing them down with a swig of whiskey.