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out toward the river.

    * * *

    I’d left my drink on the bartop and the heat was terrible, but good deeds are their own punishment.
    The Moonwalk runs along the Mississippi River for about three quarters of a mile from midway through the Quarter to the Aquarium of the Americas and Riverwalk shopping mall. It sits on the edge of the river, just beyond the levee wall built to protect The Quarter from floodwaters. Among New Orleans’ quirks is that the city is several inches below sea level. The Moonwalk’s west end, by the paddlewheel riverboats and the Aquarium, is well-lit and patrolled by bored security men on electric carts. It’s popular with lovers and people looking for a pleasant stroll toward Canal Street. In the summer, the breeze off the river makes it about the coolest place to be found in the Quarter, if you don’t count the air-conditioned bars.
    Though pleasant by day, the other end is poorly lit at night and tends to attract only those who don’t want to be seen. Wiser heads tend to avoid that area after the sun goes down.
    I was curious to find out exactly where it was on the Moonwalk that Sunshine had met her untimely end. She knew the “safe zones” as well as any other Quarterite.
    Unlike Bone, I didn’t doubt the rumor. Grown men will gossip like hens about who’s sleeping with who, who made a drunken ass out of himself and so on, but news like this wouldn’t travel unsubstantiated. Somebody had actually seen Sunshine’s body, probably after the police arrived, before they covered her up and hauled her away.
    If she was still lying down there by the river, though, Bone didn’t need to see it. He was wound up, ready to do something stupid, and stupid could take a lot of unproductive forms. I didn’t want him getting in trouble. My protective instinct had kicked in surprisingly strong, and I still wasn’t sure why.
    The nearest point of the Moonwalk was only about three or four blocks away from the Calf, if you count Jackson Square as a block. I wasn’t about to go to the river myself. I’d just as soon have the cops notice my face as little as possible. Starting across the Square I could see the cluster of blue-and-whites gathered across Decatur, next to the Jax Brewery. That was down near the Moonwalk’s east end.
    I turned to wander casually across the Square and spotted a familiar face. Despite the hour, Rose was still manning her table, along with a few other psychics and artists. Anyone who thinks that street entertainers don’t work should come down to the Quarter and note how many of the artists, mimes, and tarot readers are still at it in the wee hours of the morning, long after everyone except the graveyard-shift bartenders have called it quits.
    “Hey, Rose.”
    “Maestro!” She scooted around her table and greeted me with a warm hug. I allowed myself to enjoy the moment. I normally don’t like being touched, but I make an exception for hugs from the fairer sex. “You’re okay? Those guys ... ”
    “Realized they made a mistake.”
    She stepped back and gave me a measured look. “You didn’t fight some crazy sword duel, did you?”
    “Would’ve been kind of difficult with a pool cue. We had a nice chat, shook hands, and went our separate ways.”
    She seemed a little disappointed. “Still, it was kinda nice to have somebody come to my rescue. It’s more than that poor girl got.” She gestured across the street toward the Brewery and the gathering of police vehicles. “Murdered. They say some voodoo cult may have done her. Stabbed her and then held some kind of ritual with voodoo dolls and liquor and a couple of dead chickens. ‘Course, it’s just another crime stat for the Chamber of Commerce to play down.”
    “Any word on who?”
    “Word is it’s Sunshine. You know, the little blonde waitress from Big Daddy’s?”
    It’s an exaggeration that everyone in the Quarter knows each other, but not much of an exaggeration. No six degrees of separation here. More