City of Night

Chapter 60

Carson parked in her driveway, shut off the engine and the headlights, and said, “Let’s get the shotguns.”

They had put the suitcases and shotguns in the trunk before they’d driven Lulana and Evangeline home from the parsonage.

After hurriedly retrieving the Urban Snipers, they went to the front of the sedan and crouched there, using it for cover. Peering back along the driver’s side, Carson watched the street.

“What’re we gonna do for dinner?” Michael asked.

“We can’t take the kind of time we took for lunch.”

“I could go for a po-boy.”

“As long as it’s sleeve-wrapped to eat on the fly.”

Michael said, “The thing I’ll miss most when I’m dead is New Orleans food.”

“Maybe there’s plenty of it on the Other Side.”

“What I won’t miss is the heat and humidity.”

“Are you really that confident?”

The night brought them the sound of an approaching engine.

When the vehicle passed in the street, Carson said, “Porsche Carrera GT, black. That baby’s got a six speed transmission. Can you imagine how fast I could drive in one of those?”

“So fast, I’d be perpetually vomiting.”

“My driving’s never gonna kill you,” she said. “Some monster is gonna kill you.”

“Carson, if this is ever over and we come out of it alive, you think we might give up being cops?”

“What would we do?”

“How about mobile pet grooming? We could drive around all day, bathing dogs. Easy work. No pressure. It might even be fun.”

“Depends on the dogs. The problem is you have to have a van for all the equipment. Vans are dorky I’m not going to drive a van.”

He said, “We could open a gay bar.”

“Why gay?”

“I wouldn’t have to worry about guys hitting on you.”

“I wouldn’t mind running a doughnut shop.”

“Could we run a doughnut shop and still have guns?” he wondered.

“I don’t see why not.”

“I feel more comfortable with guns.”

The sound of another engine silenced them.

When the vehicle appeared, Carson said, “White Mountaineer,” and pulled her head back to avoid being seen.

The Mountaineer slowed but didn’t stop, and drifted past the house.

“They’ll park farther along, on the other side of the street,” she said.

“You think it’s going to go down here?”

“They’ll like the setup,” she predicted. “But they won’t come right away. They’ve been looking for an opportunity all day. They’re patient. They’ll take time to reconnoiter.”

“Ten minutes?”

“Probably ten,” she agreed. “No less than five. Let’s get Vicky and Arnie out of here yesterday.”

When the Mountaineer was out of sight, they hurried to the back of the house. The kitchen door was locked. Carson fumbled her keys from a jacket pocket.

“Is that a new jacket?” he asked.

“I’ve worn it a couple times.”

“I’ll try not to get brains on it.”

She unlocked the door.

In the kitchen, Vicky Chou was at the table, tied in a chair.