TAKE A TOUR, THEY SAID. You’ll learn amazing history, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.
Well, spoiler. They lied.
I was standing in the middle of Lafayette Cemetery No. 1 in the dark without a single flashlight beam from my other tour companions visible.
They couldn’t have left me here. Seriously?
We were supposed to stay together and follow the tour guide. And I did. Until he bypassed one of the coolest-looking crypts in favor of telling a ghost story about a child who’d died on the other side of the cemetery. I’d stopped and checked out the crypt myself and lost track of time. I’d been operating with a false sense of security because of the tour, but the creepy silence surrounding me ripped it away.
The battery in my cheap flashlight dimmed as I worked my way along the path to the entrance where the carriages should still be waiting.
Seriously, world?
Every tiny noise amplified in my head as I tripped down the path, whipping my head from side to side to make sure the boogeyman wasn’t going to jump out and get me.
My I’m going to lose my shit meter was edging into the red zone, but I sucked in one deep breath after another. It’s going to be fine. I’m going to be fine. I’m not going to end up cemented inside a crypt by some psychopath.
Shivers ghosted down my arms, and I broke into an awkward jog in my pink peep-toe pumps.
All I have to do is get out of the cemetery and find a cab. No big deal. I can do this.
“Who dat?” a deep voice called from somewhere behind me.
Oh God. I’m going to die here. Reports of people being mugged or killed while in the cemetery during the day ran through my mind.
I flicked my dying flashlight off, not wanting anyone to be able to follow my light, and ran faster.
“You ain’t supposed to be in here after dark, girl.” The deep voice was right behind me now, and adrenaline shot through my veins.
Run! my instincts screamed, and I sprinted for everything I was worth. The cemetery gate was up ahead, and all I needed to do was get out. The horses had to still be there. The guide had to do a count. They wouldn’t leave without me.
Tripping over an uneven chunk of pavement, I stumbled forward, hands flailing. I caught the edge of a crypt and cement abraded my palms, but I didn’t fall. Three more steps and then freedom.
Footsteps pounded behind me, but I reached the gate and shoved it open. Heart pounding and lungs heaving, I paused to scan both directions for the carriages, but saw nothing.
Did I come out the wrong side?
I darted around the corner and that’s when I heard it—the clip-clop of hooves and jangling of the harnesses. The reflective triangle on the back of the last carriage flashed under the street lights.
No. No. No. That’s not possible.
The orange-tinged streetlights lent an eerie glow to the empty street devoid of cabs as I jammed a hand in my hair.
I’m such an idiot.
A few people gathered at the next corner, but I wasn’t going to approach them and ask for help. If I were going to do that, I might as well pin a sign that read HOPELESSLY LOST TOURIST to my chest.
No. I was going to find my way back by myself.
My cemetery pursuer hadn’t followed, but still I hurried, walking in the same direction the carriages had taken, hoping against hope that the street lights and my no-nonsense pace would deter any unwanted attention.
A sweet wave of relief washed over me when I saw the sign for Saint Charles Avenue up ahead.
Thank you, universe.
The revelers who had watched the parade earlier hadn’t all cleared out. The porches and small front yards of the houses on the street were still full of people drinking and talking and enjoying the night. Instead of fearing the crowds as I had before, I welcomed them. They meant it was less likely I’d end up cemented alive in a crypt in an empty cemetery.
“Hey! You!” The call came as I walked by a large yard surrounded by a wrought-iron fence.
Not talking to me, I thought as I kept my head down and continued walking.
“Eden! Where are you going? Come party!”
At the sound of my name, I looked up and tripped over a crack in the sidewalk.
“Whoa, watch yourself!” Delilah hurried down the path from a beautiful house toward the fence. When she reached the gate, she unlatched it and pushed it open. “Come on. Gang’s all here. Where the hell did you come from?”
I didn’t have a chance to answer her questions before she pulled me inside the fence and around to the side yard where there were more people gathered.
“Bishop, did you see who I found? She was just walking down the sidewalk. That’s like serendipity or some shit.”
Even with his back to me, I knew it was him before she said his name. Bishop’s wide shoulders tensed as he turned to face me.
“What do you mean, just walking down the sidewalk? By yourself?” The questions were split between me and Delilah, and his tone demanded answers.
Embarrassment stained my cheeks again. “Uh . . . I was with a group taking a tour of the cemetery at night . . . and I got separated.”
It was impossible to miss the glower on his face with the light coming from the back of the house and the paper lanterns hanging in the trees.
“You got separated from a tour. In a cemetery. At night.” He ground out each piece of the statement in its own separate little sentence as if I didn’t know exactly how stupid I sounded already.
“Whoa, girl. That’s not cool. You could’ve been—”
Bishop held up a hand. “I think we all know, D.”
Another woman joined the circle. “Hi, I’m Valentina and this is my place. Welcome. Can I get you a drink?” She looked from me to Bishop to Delilah and then back to me.
“No, thank you. I was just stopping to say hi because Delilah saw me walking home.”
“Walking home? In this town? By yourself?” She shook her head. “That’s not a good idea. Let me see if I can’t scare up a ride for you.”
“Oh, that’s not—”
“She doesn’t need a ride,” Bishop said. “I’m taking her back.”
“You don’t have a car, and you’ve been drinking for six hours.” This came from the woman who’d introduced herself as Valentina.
“I’ll just call a cab. It’s fine.”
Bishop practically growled at me. “And have them drop you off at the barriers the police have set up a couple blocks away from your hotel where you have to walk through the shit show that’s the French Quarter tonight? Do I need to remind you what happened last night?”
Crap. I hadn’t thought about the fact that a cab couldn’t bring me right to the door. Even so, I didn’t appreciate Bishop’s tone.
“You don’t need to throw that in my face. A cab will be plenty close. It’s fine. Just freaking fine. You don’t need to worry about me being a bother, Bishop. I don’t need you to leave your party for me. I can take care of myself.” I smiled at Valentina and Delilah. “If you could give me a number for a cab, I’ll be on my way shortly. I’m sorry to barge in.”
Valentina returned my smile, but one eyebrow lifted. “I’ll get that cab for you. Hold on a moment.”
When she stepped away, Delilah started talking. “Sweet dress! I love it. It reminds me of something you’d get at—”
“Dirty Dog,” another voice finished as Yve stepped out of the shadows and into the light. “And it looks great on you.” She reached up. “Mind if I fix your fascinator? It’s a touch crooked.”
Automatically, I reached up to touch the small non-hat made of silver netting, and sure enough, it was askew. Great. Check the box next to HOT MESS.
Yve adjusted and repinned it before standing back. “Perfect.”
“Does everyone in this town know each other?” I asked, trying to get the attention off me.
“A few of us,” Yve said.
“And all of us agree that you’ve got no business walking around after dark by yourself.” Bishop’s statement left no room for contradiction, but Yve tsk-tsked him anyway.
“She’s a grown woman. She can do whatever the hell she wants.”
Bishop mumbled something else under his breath that sounded like she needs a keeper, but Valentina returned before anyone could pounce on it.
“Cab is on its way. It should be here in ten. Have a drink while you’re waiting. We’ve got plenty of food too. The guys haven’t managed to clear it out yet.”