Dragons Wild

Valerie was still staring at the door.

“You know, that family is really starting to piss me off,” she said, and strode out the door.

Mai nodded, cast one last glance to the smashed pearls, and followed.

As Thor left the condo, he failed to notice the two figures standing in the shadows across the street. With no apparent haste, he sauntered leisurely toward Bourbon Street.

“That’s him,” Gris-gris said. “That’s the dude.”

“He’s all yours,” Griffen said. “You might want to use this. I’ve got a hunch he has tough skin.”

He passed a large pocket knife to Gris-gris, who quickly thumbed the blade open. The blade caught the light, and showed a series of deep serrations along the cutting edge.

Gris-gris took a step in pursuit, then paused.

“How did you know?” he said.

“Once Nathaniel showed his true colors, I remembered that he had mentioned he and his brother were staying at the family condo,” Griffen said. “I thought that Valerie had caved in a bit too easily, so I hung around outside our complex and tagged along when they left. Called you on my cell phone so we could hook up along the way, and here we are. Maybe it was a long shot, but we are into gambling, after all.”

“Are you sure this won’t cause trouble with Nathaniel’s family?” Gris-gris said, still hesitating.

“After what they did to you and Val, I don’t really much care,” Griffen said coldly. “Just don’t mess him up too bad. I think they’re about to blow town and wouldn’t want that delayed by a stay in the hospital. Oh, and don’t mention this to the girls. Let’s keep it between the two of us.”

Fifty-two

After everything that had happened, Griffen felt obliged to take Valerie out to a nice di

Tonight, their restaurant of choice was the Desire Oyster Bar in the Royal Sonesta Hotel on Bourbon Street. While he normally avoided Bourbon Street except for listening to specific groups, he had developed a taste for the turtle soup they served at the Desire. That coupled with half a roast beef po’boy sandwich made for a very satisfying, filling meal.

As they were reaching the end of their meal, Griffen noticed an Asian gentleman and two young white men being seated at a table a short distance away. He specifically did not make eye contact or wave a greeting, but the Asian spotted him and nodded in smiling acknowledgment. Griffen nodded back.

“Who is that?” Valerie said.

“He’s a player from one of our games,” Griffen said. “He’s a really nice guy. A chef who relocated here from Atlanta and opened his own restaurant over on Decatur.”

“I notice you waited until he nodded to you before you nodded back.”

“I figure it’s basic ma

“I see,” Valerie said thoughtfully.

A well-dressed black man approached their table.

“Excuse me. It’s Mr. McCandles, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.” Griffen said, rising and shaking the offered hand. “Only I prefer ‘Griffen’ in informal situations.”

“Griffen it is.” The man smiled. “Sorry to interrupt your meal, but I was hoping you could do me a small favor.”

“It depends on the favor.” Griffen smiled back.

“Nothing illegal, I assure you,” the man said with a laugh. “You see, I don’t get to spend much time in the Quarter lately, and the young lady I’m with this evening wants to hear some real New Orleans music. I was hoping you could recommend someplace.”

“Well, it depends on what kind of music you want,” Griffen said. “If you like the old classics like “Basin Street Blues,” Steamboat Willie and his combo are playing just down the street here, in the courtyard across from the hotel’s main lobby. If you want Cajun and zydeco music, then go down a couple blocks across Toulouse to the Steak Pit. De

“I’ll try that. Thanks a million.”

The man waved and returned to his table.

“You’re really settling into the Quarter scene, aren’t you, Big Brother,” Valerie said. “Should I ask who that was?”

“Another one of our players,” Griffen said. “I think he’s one of the local politicos.”

“I notice you didn’t introduce me,” Valerie said.

“To tell you the truth, I couldn’t recall his name,” Griffen said. “Besides, I noticed that he didn’t bring his escort over to introduce her to us either. Of course, that’s probably because the young lady that’s with him isn’t his wife.”

Valerie choked on her drink, then dabbed at her mouth with her napkin.

“Is everything all right, folks?”

The waiter, a stout, white-haired black gentleman, was hovering at the table.

“I think we’re fine,” Griffen said. “Just a little more coffee and the check, please.”

“I’ll be right back with the coffee, but there’s no check tonight, sir.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, sir, Mr. Griffen,” the waiter said. “There’ll be no check for you tonight or any other night you come in on Amos’s shift. Amos, that’s me, sir.”

“Pleased to meet you, Amos,” Griffen said. “This is my sister, Valerie.”

“I thought that’s who it might be.” Amos smiled. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Valerie.”

“I’m still a little confused, Amos,” Griffen said. “How is it that you know me and why are you comping us this meal?”

“Well, sir, I knew who you were when you walked in tonight. A lot of the folks here in the Quarter know who you are and what you do,” Amos said. “I guess I just know a little more than most. You see, Gris-gris is my sister’s boy, and the whole family is grateful to you for helpin’ him out when he got in that scrape with the po-leece.”

“You’re Gris-gris’s uncle?” Griffen said. “No fooling?”

“No, sir. I wouldn’t joke about a thing like that,” Amos said earnestly. “Gris-gris always was a bit of a wild one, and we’ve always been a little worried for him. It’s a big load off our mind that he’s workin’ with a fine gentleman such as yourself, Mr. Griffen, and seeing a fine lady such as yourself, Ms. Valerie. Anyway, anytime you come in here on my shift, your money’s no good. It’s the least I can do to say thank you.”

“That’s very nice of you, Amos,” Valerie said.

“I appreciate it, Amos,” Griffen said, “but it presents me with a bit of a problem. You see, I really like the turtle soup here, and was pla

“Don’t you worry about that none, Mr. Griffen,” Amos said. “You come in here as often as you like. I’d like nothing better than to see you in here every day.”

“All right, all right,” Griffen said, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. “I know when I’m beat. But I insist that if I bring a party in here, I pay for it, not you.”

“We’ll have to see about that.” Amos gri

Griffen laughed and shook his head as the waiter retreated.