My mouth was open to say all manner of expletives, but the cool coffee was providing me with a bit more patience than I had when I walked into the room.

  “You’re here to help me,” he continued.

  “Huh?”

  “I’ve been here for almost a month. The body you saw wasn’t the first, but it’s the first the police found. I don’t know what did this, but I don’t think it’s the Fae,” he said.

  “Wait, back up,” I said, about to put the coffee down on the wooden table without a coaster. Then, deciding I couldn’t even be that kind of person when I was angry, I found a napkin nearby and slid it underneath.

  Jack was watching me with more than a hint of amusement on his youthful face.

  “How many bodies? Why don’t you think it’s Fae? I need to know all of the evidence you have, who you’ve talked to, everything. And what’s this ring about?” My head was swimming with questions, but I knew I wouldn’t trust the answers coming from Jack.

  “Three. Same M.O: eviscerated, ceremonial knife with brass handle, pupils missing, pile of jewelry. I don’t think it’s Fae. It just doesn’t feel like something we’d do is all.”

  “Your feeling isn’t enough to rule out the Fae,” I said plainly.

  “Mab didn’t think so either. She’s giving me until sundown to bring her real evidence, and that’s where you come in. I called you here, set you up with the job, not her, but I couldn’t have you running off once I told you it was me, so I sealed the deal with the ring. Our fates are one until the job is over.” When he said this, the room felt colder.

  “You’re an asshole,” I said.

  Jack shrugged. His boyish good looks likely helped him get away with a lot of nonsense. Most of his features came to a point from the tip of his nose to his cheekbones and chin. His skin was pale and free from any blemish or stubble, reminding me more of an ice sculpture than a living person.

  At least, I always worked well under pressure. Then it hit me. Jack had made it seem as though I had to figure the whole case out tonight, but that may not be the situation. “Wait, did she say you had to solve it by tomorrow or you just need evidence?” I asked.

  Jack sat very still for a minute as if he really were frozen until he clapped his hands together while grinning like a child at a candy store. “She said I needed evidence that my hunch was correct by sundown or the game was through.”

  “What game?”

  Jack leapt into the air, sloshing coffee out of his cup onto the couch cushions. “You really are a little genius! Just like they say. Mab’s pet’s a sharp one. Evidence will buy us time. Oh, I could kiss you!”

  “If you touch me, I will get us both killed out of spite,” I said. I had learned my lesson about dating the Fae when I was younger and naive.

  “Sharp and grumpy. Like a cat. Got it,” Jack said.

  I decided to ignore his comment. “It may not be as difficult as solving the whole case, but real evidence is not easy to come by. We’re on a tight deadline, and there’s a lot to do. I gotta get back to the office before my lunch break is over, and I’ve already wasted time here. I want to check out Madam De LaClare’s. You have any other leads?”

  “There’s a Fae I’ve been trying to find who has a history of taking eyes. I know he goes to The Wind in the Willows, a bar in the French Quarter, but he’s been ducking me. Maybe if we go there together tonight, he won’t think I’m there for him,” Jack said.

  I stood up and popped the beignet into my mouth. I immediately knew what all the talk was about. Those things were delicious.

  “OK. Let’s go,” Jack went to the door and started kicking his boots on.

  “Wait, no. I said I was going to De LaClare’s. I stick out like a wolf in a sheep herd around here, but with you it’s like a whole pack of wolves.”

  “Funny how you compared yourself to a predator, but I’m coming with you. There’s a murderer running around, and we’re tied by fate, like I said.” He was tying his ankle-high boots without looking at me. “You should get changed before we go.”

  “Into what? I left my bags at the station,” I said.

  “Check the bedroom,” he said.

  I really hated how smug he sounded, but not as much as I wanted to get out of the sticky clothing I had been wearing all morning. The bedroom was the only room, aside from the bathroom, in the apartment. When I opened the door, there was a cozy room with a bed covered in a fluffy comforter, a standing mirror, and a dresser. Draped on top of the bed there was a green sun dress with a wicker hat above it. I imagined it was exactly what someone who would have owned this apartment would wear. It didn’t suit my tastes, but it sure would make me look like a tourist.

  “Where did this come from?” I asked while tossing my t-shirt and pants into a pile on the floor and sliding the dress on. It fit a little too well. Luckily it had pockets built into the seams, because even though I’d seen ladies put phones in their bras, it never quite worked for me. Perhaps because I wasn’t quite as well endowed.

  When I gazed into the mirror, I had to admit the dress was tight and loose in all the right places. It managed to give the illusion of me having some sort of a figure. When I placed the straw hat on, it hid how messy my dark hair was coming loose from my braid, but it was too late to save me from getting sunburn on my nose and cheeks. That would turn into even more freckles.

  “Lucky break. A Lutin lives here. He’ll be making meals and leaving gifts for you while you’re here. You’ll probably never see him, but they tend to be short and have beards like gnomes,” Jack said.

  I assumed Lutins were like Hobs or little creatures that stayed in a house and fixed shoes and various items.

  After a quick pit stop in the bathroom to try to smell a little less horrible, I was on my way out the door with a lanky shadow on my tail. We went out the back of the apartment and down what appeared to be a fire escape so we wouldn’t have to go back through the beignet shop.

  Crossing the street to the shady side, I silently gave myself props for remembering to walk like a local. In between shops, there were a few palm trees scattered about. This was my first time seeing palm trees, and I had no idea they grew in Louisiana.

  I eyed them excitedly, noticing little green lizards climbing up their trunks. Unable to help myself, I stopped to watch one of the cute little lizards as it crawled down to the patch of dirt the tree had rooted into. Without warning an enormous bullfrog hopped up to the lizard and gulped it down in one bite. I swallowed the uneasy feeling this little, live nature documentary gave me. The bullfrog, reminding me of the shopkeep at the beignet store, snapped me back into the reality that I was in a rush.

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  I quickly texted Chen, who informed me that the van was still at the scene, because they decided to wait until the body was taken. He told me to go somewhere nice with my fiance for lunch. Every time someone referred to Jack as my fiance, I had an urge to correct them. This was one lie I was not getting used to.

  At least the phone call eased some of my concern about timing, and it wasn’t long before we found ourselves on Bourbon Street.. Once we reached it, I realized I could have followed the stench instead of the map on my phone. The entire area reeked of alcohol, urine and vomit.

  When Jack saw me instinctually cover my face with my hand, he said, “Once a week they spray down the roads with honey and lemon. Unfortunately, that happens Tuesday.”

  Today was a Friday. Jack passed by me, while I did my best to get accustomed to the smell. Walking slower than his usual pace to allow me to keep up, I wasn’t sure which was brighter, his white hair, white shirt, or skin. I was likely to go blind watching him. He led us past several bars and tchotchke stores up to a shop with a horse skull in the window and a heavy incense pouring out from the open doors to battle the urine odor. Above the doorway a hand-painted sign read, “De LaClare’s Fortunes,” with crescent moons on it.

  Taking the lead again, I made my way up the steps to the front room of the shop. It was a tight space filled with all manner of trinkets. The old floorboards creaked with each step as I examined rows of incense, glass bottles full of liquids of various colors, small animal skulls lining bookshelves, and boxes with dried herbs. Searching quickly over the walls, I stopped when I came across something familiar.

  There was a knife with an intricately carved brass handle and a curved blade up on display. It was high enough to be out of reach of the customers. I stood on my tiptoes to get a better glimpse of it. It was identical to the one at the crime scene. Next to it, there was a hand-written sign that read: Sold Out.

  A detail popped into my head that I should have realized was odd when Jack said it.

  Just then the floorboards groaned loudly. A thick man with dark skin and a shaved head walked through a beaded curtain. “How can I help you folk?” he asked in a deep voice.

  “Oh, we’re here visiting, and we were hoping to get our fortunes. Is Madam De LaClare here?” I asked while stepping over to Jack and shoving my arm through his.

  “She’s right this way,” he pulled back the curtains to allow us to pass through.

  The room inside was dark and pungent. There was even more incense going, and only a few standing fans throughout the store to keep the air moving. When we were closer to the man, I could see black lines of tattoos over his dark muscly arms. I wondered how often he accidentally knocked items over trying to get through the narrow aisles of the shop.

  The small back room contained a table covered in cloths. Visible in the low glow of lanterns was a woman with long dreadlocks tied into a bun as large as her head. Her ears had big plug piercings, and jewelry adorned her septum and bridge of her nose. She sat at the far end of the table, her eyes closed, and mumbling to herself.

  Suddenly, her eyes sprang open and she said in a Cajun accent, “Welcome! So you be wishin’ to hear your fortunes then?”

  “That would be great.” I smiled at Jack.

  “Good, good. Forty for a readin’, sixty for a fixin’,” she said.

  “Go ahead and pay her, dear,” I said to Jack between clenched teeth.

  “Of course, darling.” Jack pulled two twenties out of his pocket and placed them on the table.

  “Good, good.” she closed her eyes and began mumbling again. Then she pulled cards out of her pocket and dropped one onto the table.

  Being unfamiliar with tarot cards, I tried to discern the meaning of the image. It was a dark scene of a person who was made into a pincushion by a bunch of swords.

  “Seven of Swords.” She clicked her teeth. After looking from me to Jack, her eyes grew wide and she said in an entirely different accent, “Ah, hell no! Aint dealin’ with no mo faeries up in here. Tato, get rid of ‘em.”

  “Wait!” I stood up. “I just want to know about those daggers. Did one person buy a bunch of them?” I put my hands in front of me defensively.

  The floor practically shook as Tato transversed the shop. He reached his hand out to grab Jack by the shoulder, but Jack was ready for him and slipped out of his grasp. Tato’s other hand flew to catch Jack’s arm as Jack leaned backward and slid his foot along the ground, tripping the large man. Tato grabbed onto the curtain of beads, which was not strong enough to support his weight. He came down hard on the floor and the beads showered down around him like a sudden hailstorm.

  “That’s exactly what I don’t want nothin’ to do with. One of yo Fae-folk came ’round and bought ’em up. Ain’t my fault what they got used for,” she said.

  By this point Tato was back up and angry. The beads were making a racket rolling around the room. Taro got ahold of Jack’s shirt and tried to lift him off the ground, but Jack caught Tato’s arms.

  “Can you tell me what the Fae looked like?” I asked.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a smile forming on Jack’s face and figured it wasn’t a good thing. Tato’s arms were beginning to change color.

  “One of dem bearded folk, the Lutins,” she said, now in a mix of accents.

  Tato started screaming. His arms were covered in frost.

  “Let him go already!” De LaClare screamed, but I wasn’t sure if she meant Jack or Tato.

  Both complied. Tato backed up, rubbing his arms. Jack held his hands up, ready for another attack.

  “Sorry about all of this,” I said. “We’ll pay for the damage.”

  I motioned to Jack who shrugged and threw more cash onto the table. All the Fae I knew thought paper money was nonsense and had no qualms spending it. I assumed Jack would be the same.

  Madam De LaClare sighed and waved at Tato. “Go on, get out of here, ya big thug.” She then settled back in her seat. “Apology accepted, but you tell the Fae I don’t want to see none of dem ’round here ’til them killings get sorted. William was a good man. He had his diversions but he was a good man.”

  I assumed William was the victim. “Did you know him well?” I asked.

  “Well enough to say he deserved better. Now get outta my shop. I gotta fix it up before someone sees this mess.” She threw her hands up and grabbed a broom from a set of brooms leaning against the wall. I nodded to Tato apologetically as we left through the thin aisles of the shop. I could have tried to ask De LaClare more about the victim, but I assumed they would have information about him at the station

  When we got outside Jack said, “That could've gone better.”

  “Could've gone worse. At least we have a lead, although it’s a Fae.”

  “Not just a Fae, a Lutin. And they are all over New Orleans. Probably give the rats a run for their money.” Jack pulled his fingers through his messy hair, and it was instantly perfectly styled.

  “I thought you said Lutins do nice things for people like make food and give gifts?” I asked, suddenly feeling self conscious of the frizzy flyaways that slipped out of my braid and would be floating around my head if I removed the sun hat.

  “Unless you do something to get on their bad side and then you're in for all kinds of trouble,” Jack said.

  “The Fae you’re looking for who takes eyes doesn’t happen to be a Lutin, does he?” I wondered if the pieces would fall together that easily.

  “No,” Jack said, “but he’s a Pooka, mostly a rabbit. But, he’s been known to use the services of Lutin, which is not uncommon around here.”

  We walked as we discussed matters. It was starting to think going to the Wind in the Willows bar was going to be our best bet for getting information, but it wasn’t open until the evening. Deep in thought, neither of us was paying much attention to where we were going. When I noticed the water in the distance, I realized we had gotten turned around.

  “Uh, Jack, where are we?”

  “I was following you.” He laughed and said, “that’s the Mississippi River, so we have to go back the other way.”

  “Does the river normally smell so bad?” I asked.

  “Must be garbage day over here,” he said and motioned to the dumpsters in the alley next to us.

  Without saying anything, I took a few steps into the alley. There was some sort of a restaurant on the other side, but there were large, hot pink dumpsters nearly blocking the way. It smelled so bad that I doubted the employees would even use the space to smoke. The further in I walked, the worse it smelled. The unmistakable, pungent aroma of death was getting stronger with each step. Beside me, Jack covered his face with his shirt.

  Behind the dumpsters, was the body of a man. His intestines were strewn out beside him and a pile of jewelry was by his pupiless eyes. The body must have been days old; being out in the heat had dried the blood and put the body into an advanced decay.

  Suddenly, the mouth of the body twitched. I turned to Jack to determine if he was seeing what I was. He watched as intently as I did. The face appeared to be moving, but the body was very dead. With a jolt, the mouth popped open and a cockroach about the size of the Hope Diamond crawled out.

  Jack screeched in a way that sounded exactly like the sound effect for a scream queen in a cheesy slasher flick. He then flung himself into my arms as if I’d be able to lift him let alone catch the dead weight of him passing out.