Free Vieux Carré Voodoo by Greg Herren

been days before anyone noticed he was missing. He wouldn’t have been found
until his maid showed up.
    “Was Garrett in the habit of hiring hustlers?”
    “What?” I spun around and stared at her. “I can’t imagine…”
My voice trailed off. As long as I’d known Doc, he’d never had any romantic
entanglements of any kind. I’d never even been sure he was gay. And while I
could hardly picture Doc sitting in a bar hitting on someone, it was equally
impossible to imagine him hiring a hustler. He was so fastidious I couldn’t
picture him letting a hustler into his home. “I’m not even sure he was gay,
Venus. But on the other hand, I can’t imagine him at the Catbox Club tipping the
women there.” But surely, he had to have some kind of sexual outlet. Everyone
did—whether they liked to admit or not. But I couldn’t picture Doc hiring
hustlers, or even letting one into his apartment. He was so fastidious…but maybe
he associated sex with being dirty… I put that thought out of my head with a
shudder. I didn’t want to go there. “Maybe my mother would know, but I don’t.”
    She shrugged and gave me a little half-smile. “Just making
sure. All the nudes here in the bedroom are male.” She leaned down and picked up
one. “But these are more artistic than pornographic.”
    I leaned against the wall.
If Doc weren’t already dead,
hearing this conversation would give him a stroke.
I started to laugh,
knowing it was completely inappropriate, but I couldn’t stop myself. The laugh
sounded strange to me, and before I knew it I was crying.
    Venus just stood there watching me until I got hold of
myself.
    “Sorry.” I wiped at my face.
    “Are you okay?” she asked, not unkindly.
    “It’s just a bit much.” I sighed. “I mean, not five hours
ago, I was sitting with him in the back parlor, just talking, you know? And now
he’s dead. Maybe if I hadn’t left—”
    She shook her head. “Then you’d most likely be lying next to
him in the street.” She shrugged. “This wasn’t the work of just one person. And
there were no signs of forced entry—Garrett let his killers in.”
    “Oh God.” I started to retch, but took some deep breaths
until it passed.
    “And whatever it was they were looking for, they didn’t find
it.” She went on, kicking a picture frame out of her way as she headed back to
the bedroom door.
    The frame skittered across the floor, smacked a book, and
flipped over face-up just a few feet away from me.
    A young male face in military dress blues stared up at me.
    I caught my breath as I recognized the face.
    I’d just looked at it earlier that afternoon in a different
picture.
    Three young GIs in a jungle base camp, mugging for the
camera.
    I knew he’d looked familiar.
    Doc was Moonie.
    “Venus!” I called, kneeling down next to the picture. I
picked it up, staring at it.
    There was no question about it. Doc was Moonie, the friend
Levi’s grandfather had sent him to New Orleans to find.
    Marty Gretsch had been tortured to death, his house
ransacked in much the same manner as Doc’s apartment.
    My instinct had been right.
    “Yes, Scotty?” Venus said from the doorway.
    I stood back up and took a deep breath. “You’re going to
need to talk to my upstairs neighbor, Venus. His name is Levi Gretsch, and his
grandfather was murdered a few months ago…and his house was trashed the same
way.”
    Venus raised an eyebrow. “And the connection is?”
    “His grandfather wrote him a letter before he was killed,
telling him to come to New Orleans and find an old army buddy of his.” I
swallowed, pointing down at the picture. “He hired me this afternoon to help him
find his grandfather’s friend. All he had was a nickname and an old picture of
three Army buddies. Doc was one of the three soldiers—the only one who was still
alive.” I sighed. “I thought the guy in the picture looked familiar, but I
couldn’t place him. The picture