CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“He tried to take Khloe at The Well,” said Gaspar to everyone. “He’ll be pissed and probably head back here.”

Trak walked toward the group standing on the levee above the river. He stared at them and nodded.

“He’s headed this way.”

“How do you know?” asked Nine.

“Alvin.”

“Alvin? Is Alvin undercover now?” asked Nine. Trak stared at him with a strange, questioning expression.

“No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re talking to a fucking alligator about a killer, and I’m ridiculous? What the fuck?” groaned Nine.

“Alvin saw him dumping bodies into the bayou near the Manketa Pass. Four of them. He said he mumbled about the Quarter.”

All of the men stared at Trak, but he held firm to his statement and then shrugged at them. Dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, he nodded at Zeke and Wilson, his running partners.

“Let’s go.” Tailor laughed as the men jogged off, then gripped the shoulder of his friend Alec.

“We’ll get down to Bourbon Street and see what we can see,” said Tailor.

“Don’t chase after him. He could be leading you to a trap. Remember, he doesn’t really know all of us, just a few by sight. Keep your faces hidden, keep your caps on, and stay in communication with everyone else,” said Gaspar.

“Got it,” said Alec. His brother stopped him, gripping his arm.

“Alec, I’m serious. Be careful with this man. He’s smarter than we think, and he’s done a damn fine job of avoiding us up until now.”

“I know, big bro,” he grinned. “I’ll be careful.”

Gaspar watched as Tailor, Alec, Pierre, and Angel walked toward the Quarter. The two giants would easily be sighted, and Pierre and Angel would be approached by every drunk woman on the street, but that could help them.

“We’ll sit tight here on the levee,” said Gaspar. “Whiskey, Bull, Dex, and Gabe walk the perimeter of the Quarter. This is where he’s going to take someone from. Stop him.”

“Roger that,” nodded Bull.

“Hey, Bull?” called Nine.

“If you have to, brother, sing in the street. It will attract women, and he’ll be drawn to that as well.”

“I don’t know,” he said, frowning at Nine.

“Only if you have to, Bull.” The other man nodded, walking away with his friends and teammates. He sang on recordings with Amanda, Erica, and Mia, but he never did live performances any longer.

“He still doesn’t like to do live?” asked Ian.

“Yeah, I think he just doesn’t want people to know that voice comes from that face and body,” smirked Nine.

“Jean? Take Cruz, Rafe, and Tango along Magazine and Canal. It’s busy as fuck, and a lot of crazy shit happens there. Stay connected and stay close.”

“Got it,” nodded Jean.

“Now what?” asked Ian.

“Now, we wait. The bastard is out there somewhere, and he’s hoping to kill again tonight. We just have to stop him.”

“So much to choose from,” he whispered to himself, smiling.

He’d bought a blonde wig and covered it with a stocking cap. It was hot and itchy, but it would make people look the other way instead of directly at him. He pulled a jacket over his sweater and rubbed his hands on his trousers. He was getting excited.

The crowds were so heavy he parked at the casino, which was a mistake. There was more sin happening in that place than in all of New Orleans. Dancers in threadbare costumes, waitresses with their tits and asses hanging out, and the men and women hanging all over one another drunk, wasting their money.

Knowing there were cameras should have deterred him from doing anything, but he just couldn’t resist the easy marks that were standing so close to him. As the crowd pushed and shoved, people rubbing their bodies against one another, he spotted his first easy mark.

The man was seated at the slot machine, hitting the button over and over again with one hand while the other was between the woman’s thighs standing beside him. They were both disgusting.

Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he carefully felt for the long razor blade. It was a favorite of his because it was so sharp and could easily cut a throat or wrist with just the flick of his hand.

With a quick swipe, he slashed the woman’s thigh and the back of the man’s hand, then pushed into the crowd, not even turning as she cried out, and someone screamed ‘blood.’ That was almost as thrilling for him as the actual sight of blood. It was the sound of panic and chaos, and that made him filled with joy.

“Oh, that was too easy,” he grinned to himself.

He began humming as he walked through the crowded casino, slashing, shoving, and moving toward the door to Canal. When he stepped into the crisp night air, he was filled with a sense of renewed purpose.

Tonight was going to be a good night. A very, very good night.