Free The Dead Play On by Heather Graham Page B

that place. I haven’t seen you there, though. There’s a guy who looks like Billy Idol most of the time when I’m in—sweet accent on him, too,” she said, smiling.
    “His name is Billie,” Danni told her.
    “I’m talking away,” Jessica said, “and I’m supposed to be working. What can I get you?”
    They ordered soda with lime and took seats at a table near the band.
    “The band breaks for a few minutes every half hour,” Tyler said. “You can talk to them soon.”
    “Terrific,” Quinn said. Danni watched him as he studied the group. Quinn loved music. She wondered if one day, far in the future, he would have a chance to go where he wanted, play when he wanted and revel in his guitar.
    After a few minutes she turned her attention to the group. Shamus Ahearn definitely looked stereotypically Irish. His hair was strawberry-blond, his skin pale and his eyes were light. Gus Epstein had dark, curly, close-cropped hair and was thin and wiry. He seemed totally focused on his guitar as he played. Blake Templeton—dark-haired, dark-eyed—was on keyboards. He was doing the lead vocals, too, and had a strong, smooth voice with a tremendous range.
    “Nice!” Quinn called to Tyler over the music.
    Tyler grinned. “We’re even better with a sax. I thought Eric—the bartender—might sit in for a few, but I guess it’s just a little too busy.”
    “It’s busier now than when we got here a few minutes ago,” Danni noted, looking around at the growing crowd.
    “Yep,” Tyler said. “But tomorrow night at this time... Well, you two are from here. You know. Friday nights in the Quarter...”
    They talked about the reemergence of the French Quarter since the storms. Jessica brought them their drinks, apologizing for having taken so long. Danni watched her as she headed back to the bar, stopping to take an order along the way. She saw the bartender come over to her and smile as he listened to her recite the drinks she needed. He seemed to enjoy his job; the sudden influx of customers didn’t get to him. There were eight seats at the bar, and every one of them was filled. He was friendly, calling out to the guy at the end that he needed just a minute as he filled Jessica’s order.
    Danni turned back to watch the band. Shamus suddenly noticed Tyler in the audience and looked at him curiously then studied her and Quinn—and never missed a beat.
    A few minutes later Blake announced that they were taking a five-minute break and turned on the music system so that Lana Del Rey spilled out over the speakers, and then the whole band headed to the table.
    “What gives, Tyler?” Shamus asked, sliding into the chair next to Quinn. He quickly offered Quinn a handshake as he studied Danni. “Hi, Shamus Ahearn. Nice to meet you.”
    They went around the table making introductions. Then Tyler addressed his bandmates. “They want to ask you guys about Arnie’s last night,” he said flatly.
    “Oh,” Shamus said, studying Quinn again. He grinned. “I should have realized you were a cop,” he said.
    “I’m not a cop,” Quinn said. “Private investigator.”
    “Oh. Okay,” Shamus said.
    The rest of the band looked at one another then all shrugged as one. Speaking for the group, Gus said sure, they would be happy to do what they could.
    Jessica came by with a tray holding three glasses of water and set them down in front of the band.
    “Thank you, love,” Shamus told her.
    “Pleasure.”
    “You going to sing with us tonight?” Blake asked her.
    “Can’t. It suddenly got too busy,” she said. “You guys okay?” she asked Quinn and Danni.
    “Just fine, thank you,” Danni assured her.
    “What about me?” Tyler teased, raising his eyebrows in a mock leer.
    “I know you’re fine—and if you weren’t, you’d lean over the bar and pour yourself a soda,” she said. “So don’t get fresh with me, Tyler Anderson.”
    “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
    Jessica moved on.
    Gus Epstein was sitting next to Tyler.