The Unknown Woman Read Free

woman’s eyes were a deep blue, not black.
    A smile warmed the voodoo queen’s solemn expression for a second before she turned and closed the door behind her.
    Kerry stopped in her tracks. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered, “that was Patti.”
    Relieved laughter burst from her. For a few minutes she’d actually believed all that hocus-pocus.
    Ah, New Orleans. Voodoo queens. Pythons. Vampires. Werewolves. And don’t forget the ghosts.
    She laughed again. Probably Patti had been putting her on a bit with that voodoo queen act, but it had worked its own kind of magic and Kerry felt less lonely than she had that morning. She would stop by the restaurant tomorrow and tell Patti how much she’d enjoyed the museum—
    “Read your fortune, my dear?” A wizened old woman, dressed in black with a black lace mantilla, tried to grab her hand.
    Kerry evaded her grasp. “No, thanks. I just had a reading.”
    Smiling, she ambled along the street. The temperature, in the mid sixties, felt almost balmy compared with Minnesota. She glanced in several shops for a special gift for her sister. Maybe Kerry could find a potion of some kind for both Sharon and her husband—perhaps an aphrodisiac. They might need it after being cooped up with sick children for so long.
    Before dark, she found an ideal gift—several small sample bottles of rum and special tins of coffee in a carved wooden box that could be used for jewelry when it was empty. The store would even ship it for her.
    She pulled out her credit card and tried not to wince at the total. After all, the rest of the trip was free.
    Walking along the park, she took in the sights along the Mississippi River—the Mississippi!—and thought of Mark Twain and his days on the river, of fancy gamblers and even fancier ladies of the evening, and those other queens of the famous city, the steamboats that plied the waters, calliopes blasting.
    She watched the Creole Queen leave her portage and head up the river. As she lifted her hand against the last rays of the setting sun, the charms on the silver bracelet gleamed and danced before her eyes. They tinkled against each other in the breeze off the river and whispered secrets that hinted at the great adventure that supposedly awaited her.
    “Bring it on,” she murmured wryly.
     
    K ERRY RETURNED to the hotel in the soft, sultry dark. The streets were more crowded than they had been at high noon. A good-looking young man, probably all of twenty, tried to hit on her.
    Things were looking up, she decided as she passed him and kept walking. Fingering the charm bracelet and finding the blessed cross, she considered the advice of Queen Patrice. While werewolves didn’t hold much appeal for her, she thought a handsome vampire might be just the thing.
    “May I kiss you on the neck? May I take a little bite?”
    She mentally chuckled, recalling the line from a silly high school play they’d put on as a fund-raiser to buy classroom computers. The tallest, thinnest senior boy had been the vampire. Not exactly the type she had in mind—
    “Miss Johnston,” the concierge called to her when she entered the Hotel Marchand.
    Kerry glanced over to see Luc—oh, yes, Carter, she remembered—approaching her with a smile. He was the one who had welcomed her last night and assured her that a late arrival was no problem.
    Like Patti, he was probably in his twenties, late twenties—she decided, since he was the concierge of a grand old hotel, and one didn’t get to that position without some prior experience.
    With his sandy blond hair, blue eyes and all-American good looks, he could have posed for one of the Mardi Gras posters that showed handsome couples having a great time.
    “Here’s the list of musical venues you requested,” he said, holding out a paper. “I believe there’s also a package for you. It was delivered about ten minutes ago.”
    “For me?” she asked, taking the list from him.
    “Yes. I’ll check with the bell