Dead Roses for a Blue Lady by Nancy Collins Read Free Book Online Page B

old warehouse in the district just beyond the French Quarter. Outside of her sleeping pallet, an antique cedar wardrobe, a couple of Salvation Army-issue chairs, a refrigerator, a cordless telephone, and the scattered packing crates containing the esoteric curios she used as barter amongst information and magick brokers, the huge space was practically empty. Except for those occasions when the Dead came to visit. Such as tonight.
    At first she didn't recognize the ghost. He'd lost his sense of self in the time since his death, blurring his spectral image somewhat. He swirled up through the floorboards like a gust of blue smoke, gradually taking shape before her eyes. It was only when the phantom produced a smoldering cigarette from his own ectoplasm that she recognized him.
    "Hello, Chaz."
    The ghost of her former renfield made a noise that sounded like a cat being drowned. The Dead cannot speak clearly — even to Pretenders — except on three days of the year: Fat Tuesday, Halloween, and Candlemas.
    "Come to see how your murderer is getting on, I take it?"
    Chaz made a sound like a church bell played at half-speed.
    "Sorry, I don't have a Ouija board, or we could have a proper conversation. Is there a special occasion for tonight's haunting, or are things just boring over on your side?"
    Chaz frowned and pointed at the scrap of paper Sonja held in her hand. The ghost-light radiating from him was the only illumination in the room.
    "What? You don't want me to call this number?"

    Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) Chaz nodded his head, nearly sending it floating from his shoulders.
    "You tried warning Palmer away from me last Mardi Gras. Didn't work; but I suppose you know that already. He's living in Central America right now. We're very happy."
    The ghost's laughter sounded like fingers raking a chalkboard. Sonja grimaced. "Yeah, big laugh, dead boy. And I'll tell you one thing, Chaz; Palmer's a damn sight better in bed than you ever were!"
    Chaz made an obscene gesture that was rendered pointless since he no longer had a body from the waist down. Sonja laughed and clapped her hands, rocking back and forth on her haunches.
    "I knew that'd burn your ass, dead or not! Now piss off! I've got better things to do than play charades with a dead hustler!"
    Chaz yowled like a baby dropped in a vat of boiling oil and disappeared in a swirl of dust and ectoplasm, leaving Sonja alone with Judd's phone number still clenched in one fist.
    Hell, she thought as she reached for the cordless phone beside the futon, if Chaz doesn't want me to call the guy, then it must be the right thing to do...

    The place where they rendezvoused was a twenty-four hour establishment in the French Quarter that had, over the course of the last fifty years, been a bank, a show-bar, and a porno shop before becoming a coffee house. They sat at a small table in the back and sipped iced coffee.
    Judd's hair was freshly washed and he smelled of after shave, but those were the only concessions made to the mating ritual. He still wore his nose and ear rings, as well as a Bongwater t-shirt that had been laundered so often the silkscreened image was starting to flake off.
    Judd poked at the iced coffee with a straw. "If I'm not getting too personal — what was last night all about?"
    Sonja studied her hands as she spoke. "Look, Judd. There's a lot about me you don't know
    — and I'd like to keep it that way. If you insist on poking into my past, I'm afraid I'll have to leave. It's not that I don't like you—I do —but I'm a very private person. And it's for a good reason."
    "Is—Is there someone else?"
    "Yes. Yes, there is."
    "A husband?"
    She had to think about that one for a few seconds before answering. "In some ways. But, no; I'm not married."
    Judd nodded as if this explained something. It was obvious that some of what she said was bothering him, but he was trying to play it cool. Sonja wondered