FROZEN ANGEL

Chapter 4

4

Damn, why had she done that to herself or him? Elise shook her head. Visiting Adrian had solved nothing: she could not, would not, put that man out of her mind. He'd been fused right to her heart.

And now she had only a few minutes left to reach her destination. Picking up pace, she trotted down the street heading towards the river, weariness suddenly weighing down her limbs. Maybe Jo was right: she either had to cut back on her hours or collapse. With a little luck, this tour group would be a subdued lot and she could breeze them through the highlights route and be home in bed before 10:30. Wow, she lived such an exciting life: either acting like stone or dead asleep.

She walked up past the Jackson Brewery building, fingering her grandmother's gold cross inherited from her late mother. The uncle who had raised her had once jokingly claimed the piece might protect Elise against New Orleans's vampires. Not likely, she thought. The only vampires she'd met here were the human kind. She pushed back the well of sweet, painful memories of Uncle Gerard, the man who could always make her laugh, a man she remembered more vividly than either her mother or father, both of whom had died when she was in her teens. Too many losses in too little time.

The photocopier conventioneers would be waiting at the Greyhound tour depot. Approaching the small round building located between the river and the railway tracks, she scanned the clusters of waiting tourists for a likely group. She soon spied 'READ&PRINT: COPYING TOMORROW TODAY' logos plastered on the sides of canvas bags. She counted eight of them, all men, each sporting the distinctive bright blue button of the French Quarter Highlights Walking Tour.

At long last, the conventions were returning to New Orleans, post Katrina. The city greeted the curious with a mix of relief and anger. So much had changed since the hurricane had ripped their lives apart and yet so much remained the same. One thing was certain: the city wouldn't give up easily.  

"Hi, there," she greeted the group. "I'm Elise Comeau and you must be my group for tonight's Highlights of the Veux Carre tour." 

"Veux Carre?" a big man with short red hair and glasses asked, leaning over to breathe happy hour fumes in her direction. His lime green striped tee shirt erupted jolts of neon in her line of vision. "It'd be worth a tour to the garbage dump just to be in your company, sweetheart, but we booked for the French Quarter, see?" 

"'Veux Carre' is French for 'old quarter'," Elise explained, plastering a smile on her face. With a little luck, it would stick. "Sorry for the confusion." 

"Speak English for us, then, honey. We're all Americans here," the man told her, bleary blue eyes looking her over with the scrutiny of a used car buyer studying a particularly nice mustang.  

"Sorry." Nothing annoyed Elise more than somebody who didn't have a clue about his own country, unless he packaged ignorance with rudeness. She just kept smiling, that was her job. Besides, she needed decent tips. A woman had to be practical as well as principled.  

"Oh, don't mind Stan," another man intercepted, elbowing the big guy out of the way. "He's just been hitting the bars a little too early tonight. Makes him cranky."

Several degrees younger than Stan, this fellow had an engaging smile and the fresh-shaven face of a man who believed appearances mattered. He extended his hand. "I'm Dave from Milwaukee, the eastern sales manager for Read&print. My team and I are charged up for tonight's tour, aren't we guys?"

The men, mostly dressed in shorts and tee shirts, nodded their assent.

"Our company decided to support New Orleans and have our convention here and, I've got to tell you, I'm so glad they did. This place is fabulous, isn't it guys? I've heard this tour is a great way to get a feel for the French Quarter," Dave said. "Are you from around here, Elise?"