Dragons Luck

Forty-five

Griffen was heading up St. Peter toward Bourbon Street when he was hoo-rawed.

“Yo! Grifter! Wait up!”

Turning, he saw Jerome jogging toward him. He waited until his friend caught up with him and slowed to a stop.

“What’s up, Jer?” he said. “I’m kind of in a hurry here.”

“Just a second while I catch my breath,” Jerome said, breathing hard. “I’ve been lookin’ for you all night. You know your cell phone’s turned off? Anyway, man, you got problems.”

“You heard, huh?” Griffen said, rolling his eyes.

“About Slim? Sure did,” Jerome said. “Do you know it’s goin’ around that you’re the one who hit him? Either that, or that you ordered it done?”

Griffen heaved a sigh.

“Yeah. Val told me. It gets worse. I just talked to Harrison. He’s gotten wind of the conclave and is going to be checking it out.”

Briefly, he filled Jerome in on what Harrison had told him, including the fact that, so far, the detective did not know that Griffen was involved with the conclave.

“Shit,” Jerome said, shaking his head. “So now what are we gonna do?”

“ ‘We’?” Griffen said, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t see where any of this affects our gambling operation, Jer. I got myself into this mess. I figure I’ve got to find my own way back out.”

“Hold on there, Grifter,” Jerome said, drawing himself erect. “I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye on this whole conclave thing, but you’re still the main dragon down here. What affects you affects all of us, starting with me. There’s no way I’m gonna stand around with my hands in my pockets while all this is goin’ down. So let’s put our heads together and try to figure this thing out.”

“Thanks, Jerome,” Griffen said. “I really appreciate that.”

“So, like I said before, what are we gonna do?”

“Well, I hadn’t been thinking in terms of we,” Griffen said. “I was going to head over to the conclave and let them know what’s going on… including the fact that Harrison’s going to be nosing around. I’m thinking of suggesting that they cancel the scheduled meetings tomorrow. There’s not that much slated, anyway. Mostly, people are going to be gearing up for the masquerade ball.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a hot idea,” Jerome said carefully. “If Harrison spots you there, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

“Well, I am sure it’s not a hot idea”—Griffen grimaced—“but it can’t be helped. I’ve got to let them know what’s coming down the pike at them, and there’s no other way. At first I thought of sending them a note, but then I realized it’s not something I want to put down on paper.”

“You got that right,” Jerome said with a brief grin. “You know, don’t you, that a lot of them will already be thinking that you’re at the bottom of the trouble with Slim.”

“Yeah, I know,” Griffen said. “What I’m going to do is flat out tell them that I had nothing to do with it. There’s no way to prove that right now, so they’ll just have to either believe me or not. It’s still early, so I’m going to try to catch some of the attendees in the hotel lobby bar, then check a few of the other clubs they’ve been hanging at. I’ll leave it to the ones I catch to spread the word to the others.”

Jerome looked around.

“Like you said, it’s still early. Let’s talk this out a little over a drink before you stick your neck out. I think there’s a bar around here somewhere.”

That got a laugh out of Griffen. One was never far from a bar in the French Quarter.

They stepped into one of the quieter bars available and ordered a round, carefully choosing seats well away from the other customers and the bartender.

“So, what have you got on your mind?” Griffen asked, settling in and taking a sip from his drink. “And can you keep it short? I really have to get over to the conclave.”

“That’s what I what to talk about,” Jerome said. “You’re so wrapped up in that conclave you aren’t thinking.”

“C’mon, Jer. I thought we were past that.”

“I’m not talking about business,” Jerome said, shaking his head. “I’m talkin’ about what’s goin’ on now. Something smells about the whole deal.”

“What do you mean?” Griffen said, cocking his head to one side.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout,” Jerome pressed. “You got so much shit goin’ on, you don’t have time to think. Well, take a few minutes here and think. You think it’s a coincidence, Slim getting killed so soon after you went head-to-head with him? While you’re in the middle of tryin’ to moderate that conclave?”

“Well, what else could it be?” Griffen said.

“It could be that someone’s tryin’ to set you up,” Jerome said, pointedly. “If it isn’t a frame for a murder rap, then at the very least someone’s out to embarrass you big-time.”

“I think you’re stretching a bit to think that,” Griffen said, skeptically.

“Well, I think you’re stretchin’ if you don’t think that,” Jerome shot back. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is to think about it and watch your back. If I’m wrong and it is all just coincidence, there’s no harm done. But if I’m right, and you keep trying to wave it all off as coincidence, you could really get blindsided.”

Griffen started to speak, then hesitated. Taking another sip from his drink, he stared at the wall for a long minute.

“All right,” he said at last. “I’ll consider it seriously. My first question would be who would want to set me up? I’m getting along well with everyone at the conclave… well, nearly everyone.”

“All it takes is one,” Jerome warned. “Besides, it doesn’t necessarily have to be someone from the conclave. You’re not only a dragon, you’re the head dragon in this area. That makes you a target. Every time you take a breath, you’re gonna upset somebody… and they’re going to keep coming after you until you stop breathing. Get used to it.”

“Do you have anyone specifically in mind?” Griffen said.

“Haven’t gotten that far,” Jerome admitted. “Didn’t you and Val go sideways to a couple of Melinda’s boys a while back?”

“Yeah, but we haven’t seen or heard from them since,” Griffen said, then hesitated. “Did I mention to you that George is back in town?”

“The one who tried to kill you a couple months ago?” Jerome said, sitting up straight. “He’s in town, and you didn’t let us know?”

“I think it was more that he was testing me than trying to kill me,” Griffen said. “And as far as him being in town, he says he’s just here on vacation. As a matter of fact, he’s Valerie’s date for the masquerade.”

“Uh-huh,” Jerome said. “You’ve got a known supernatural hit man in town, someone from the conclave turns up dead, and you think it’s a coincidence?”

“He only acts when someone is paying him,” Griffen pointed out. “Which would still leave us looking for someone with a motive. Heck, I’d be more likely to suspect Flynn than George.”

“Flynn? West Coast big-time dragon Flynn? He’s in town?”

“Yeah. I met him a couple of weeks ago, and he’s been giving me advice on how to run the conclave,” Griffen said. “Why? Do you know him?”

“Never met him, but I’ve heard he’s a major power player,” Jerome said. “He’s not one I’d figure to be giving out free advice.”

“Sounds like you’ve been talking to Mai,” Griffen said with a laugh.

“Heard about him long time before I met Mai,” Jerome said. “If she doesn’t trust him, I’d say she’s with the majority. Anybody else in town you haven’t told me about?”

“That’s it. But I take your point.” Griffen finished his drink.

“I’ll go pass the word on to the conclave. You see if you can round up Val and Mai and meet me back at my place. Maybe between us we can sort this thing out.”

“Half a good plan,” Jerome said. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll tag along while you pass the word, then we’ll find the women. The more I think about it, the more it occurs to me that you should have someone covering your back for a while.”

“Hey, Mai. C’mon in. I was just about to call you.”

Valerie stepped back from her apartment door to let her friend in.

“Griffen just buzzed me to let me know he was calling a war council,” Mai said, entering the apartment and flopping down on the sofa. “I thought it might be a good idea if we talked first.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Val said. “Do you think there’s anything to the idea that he’s being set up?”

“I really don’t know… but there’s always the possibility,” Mai said. “One thing I am sure of is that it’s time we put a few more cards on the table.”

“You mean…”

“I mean we’ve got to tell him about Lizzy,” Mai said. “If we’re going to sort this mess out, he’s got to have all the pieces. That means letting him know who the players in town are.”

“You think she’s behind the setup… if there is one?” Val asked with a frown.

“Not really,” Mai admitted. “But as crazy as she is, we can’t rule her out completely.”

“Big Brother is going to freak,” Valerie said, shaking her head. “From what he said when he called, Jerome is already giving him grief about not sharing the information that Flynn and George are in town. When he finds out that we’ve been holding out on him as well, he’s going to blow his stack.”

“Can’t be helped.” Mai sighed. “Now he needs to know. We’ll just have to tell him that we thought it would distract him from the conclave and decided to handle it ourselves.”

“He’s going to love that,” Val said with a grimace. “What about the other thing?”

“Which other thing?” Mai said.

Val pulled herself up to her full height and patted her stomach.

The two women looked at each other for a long moment, then as one shook their heads.

“I don’t think so. Not now,” Valerie said. “Lizzy is my problem. So is this.” She touched her belly.

“One crisis at a time,” Mai agreed.