Chapter Eight: Hotel de la Marine

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“I . . . I’m . . . sorry . . . I . . .” Crystal faltered. She hadn’t expected such a violent reaction. His sudden retreat confused her even more. He was looking at her as if she were a ghost, his familiar green eyes wide with shock. He looked as she remembered him from the night at the Place des Nerges. He even wore the same clothes of all black. He was lean and well muscled. His dark hair messily kept, the only thing she hadn’t noticed before was the three-inch scar that ran from his hair line down the side of his face, to his neck.

She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “You don’t remember me do you?” she asked, her gaze shifting to the floor. She felt near tears and was prepared to flee from the room.

“Yes I remember you,” he said quietly, disbelief in his voice.

“You do?” She looked up at him hopefully.

“Yes– but you couldn’t . . .There’s no way . . . How?” His head was spinning; he had to be hallucinating. She couldn’t really be here; she couldn’t be real. He’d thought it was just a dream. Of all the nights he’d woken up in a cold sweat, that’s the only thing that had calmed his nerves. It was a dream. But here she was standing before him, definitely more than a dream. Raking his hand through his hair, he took his gaze from her face, trying to think straight. “Why are you following me?” he asked, the only question that he could think of that didn’t sound completely absurd.

“ I’m not following you– well . . . I suppose I am, but–“ She sighed in frustration. “I was looking for you, and when I saw you at the stable earlier, I came back to find you. And yes, I did follow you here. I apologize if I’ve intruded. I just– but it doesn’t matter. I’ll go.” Crystal moved towards the door, her face hot with embarrassment. What was I thinking barging into his room like this? She opened the door.

“Wait,” he slammed the door closed before she could leave. “Who are you?”

She looked up at him and found herself staring into his eyes, so deep and secretive, and she remembered why she had been so determined to speak with him. “My name is Crystal de la Chaise. We met before, at The Place des Negres,” she said, stepping away from him. “It was more than a month ago, I wouldn’t expect you to remember. You brought me home.”

His brows rose. “That was you?”

“Yes.”

This was insane. He couldn’t take it all in at once. First the woman he’d been dreaming of for months suddenly appears in his life, and now he finds out that he had already met her two months before without even realizing it. He remembered now that night he’d gone with the Clan to The Place des Negres to see what everyone called ‘barbaric’ dancing and uncouth music. He had been wandering the outer edges of the square absently observing the dancers when he’d heard her piercing scream. He recognized her as the woman he had rescued, though her appearance was drastically altered by her formal attire.

Grabbing hold of his senses, he shook off the shock of seeing the woman who had haunted his dreams for months and pretended he was calm. “Yeah, I remember you, but why are you here?”

Crystal sighed, glancing about the room, not wanting to meet his gaze. It had never occurred to her that she would have to explain to him why she was there. This had seemed so much more important before she was standing in front of him. He would probably think her an idiot. Wandering the French Quarter looking for him because of a dream. But she had risked so much, and, if nothing else, she needed to know his name.

“I...well...I wanted...I wanted to know...your name.”

“Why?”

Why? Why was he being so uncooperative? Heaving a great sigh, her head dropped in a hopeless gesture. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “I’ve just been having– but it doesn’t matter. I should go.” Again she moved towards the door, her hand hesitated on the knob as she wondered if she would regret leaving without answers.

That’s when he spoke. “My name’s Joey, Joey Cross.”

Crystal turned around slowly at his words, shaking her head as she did so. “No, that’s not right,” she murmured to herself.

“What do you mean ‘that’s not right’?”

“It’s just– Joe– Joey is short for something isn’t it?”

“What does it matter what it’s short for?” he said, unwilling to give away that detail about himself. If she was really the one from the dream, she would know wouldn’t she?

“Your name is Joseph isn’t it?” she questioned. “I’m right aren’t I?”

He felt something akin to relief fill him at her words, although he couldn’t figure out why. “Well, yeah. But nobody calls me that.”

Crystal laughed, feeling lighthearted for the first time in months. She moved to the center of the room, laughing even harder. Catching him staring at her in bewilderment, she stopped. “I’m sorry, it’s just–well, I never liked the name Joey.”

Joseph nodded slowly, still confused with her behavior. He watched her as she regarded their surroundings.

“How long have you been here?” She asked curiously, her gaze on the bed stand where the Bible she had noticed earlier lay next to a razor-sharp Bowie knife.

“Uh. . .nearly three months I’d wager,” he answered as he moved to stow his knife and Bible into the drawer of the night stand. Once accomplished, he straightened and glanced about the room for anything else he’d rather her not see, but nothing caught his eye. Returning his gaze to her, he observed as she absently fingered the velvet draperies that were pinned to the bed-posts. She seemed suddenly relaxed, although moments before she’d been ready to flee at any second. He didn’t quite understand what had changed, but on second thought, he didn’t quite understand anything at the moment.

“I see,” she said quietly, her eyes flickered over him and then back to the bed curtains. “And how long do you plan on being here?”

“Another month at most. Why?”

“Um . . .” she glanced at him once more, this time with a hint of embarrassment, then moved to the dresser where she distractedly picked up a tattered photograph of a man and wife and their two small sons. Recognizing the family immediately she couldn’t help but stare, entranced by the warmth that radiated from all of their faces. She wondered what had happened to change all that. She caught him watching her and quickly replaced the picture, feeling as if she was intruding. “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I didn’t realize it was . . .”

“It’s fine.” Joseph joined her at the dresser and took the photo in his hand. “They’re all dead now anyway,” he said flatly.

“All of them?” she said aghast.

He stared at the picture for a long moment. “Yes.”

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, her eyes on the picture in his hand.

“Don’t be.” He abruptly shoved the photo into a drawer as he’d done with his other belongings. “It was years ago.” He strode over to the window and pushed it open, pulling out a cigarette as he did so. “Why don’t you have a seat and explain to me the real reason you’re here?”

“I suppose you deserve that much.” Crystal said as she positioned herself on a hardbacked chair near the empty fireplace. Though there was no way she could tell him the truth without him thinking her completely mad.

“Yeah, I think I do.” He watched her expectantly, but she made no effort to speak. “Do you always search the city looking for people you only meet once?” he prompted, leaning back against the window sill. He was starting to relax, the unbelievable fact that he was standing across from this woman finally sinking in.

“No, of course not.”

He laughed. Crystal found herself thinking it was a pleasant sound. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“For your information, the only reason I decided to come looking for you was–” She abruptly fell silent, having been about to blurt out the truth to him, but there was no way she could explain something so personal so quickly.

“Was what?”

“Never mind,” Crystal said embarrassed.

“No, tell me. Why did you come looking for me?”

Crystal shook her head. She couldn’t tell him the truth, so she improvised. “Well, I saw you.”

“Where?” he asked trying to figure where he’d been that she would have seen him.

“One night, a month ago, I saw you coming out of the bank on Canal Street. You saw me that night too, don’t you remember?”

An odd look crossed his face, and he turned back to the window. “You saw me?” He had thought he was hallucinating that night. Seeing people from dreams who weren’t even real.

“Yes,” Crystal said, confused at his reaction.

She saw him open his mouth as if to speak, but then close it again.

“Joseph, is something wrong?”

He chuckled. “The last person to call me Joseph was my mother.” Unless you count the dream woman.

“I hope you don’t mind, I–”

“No, I don’t mind when you say it.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized he was thinking them. He clenched his teeth to keep the rest of his thoughts to himself and watched her face turn bright red. She would no longer meet his gaze. He chose to ignore the uncomfortable moment and continued his pursuit of an answer to her presence.

“So the only reason you’re here is because you saw me a month ago?”

“Well . . .yes,”

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not befitting for a woman like you to be alone with a man like me. If anyone knew you were here, you’d be ruined.”

“I know, but I didn’t want to take the chance of losing you.”

“Losing me?” He tilted his head to one side and stared at her for a long moment. “It’s not safe to be alone with a man you don’t know. How do you know I won’t hurt you?” He was trying to scare her, but she seemed undeterred.

“I don’t think you will.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“I trust you.”

Joseph laughed, shaking his head. “All right, but I wouldn’t trust me.”

“You are –”

“Why are you –”

They spoke at the same moment and in the short pause that followed the resounding echo of the St. Louis’ bell crying across the night grabbed both their attentions. Joseph silently counted. One . . . two . . . He waited for the next toll but it never came. It was past midnight.

He cursed and jumped up, grabbing his holster and hastily buckling it on.

“Oh dear, I have to go.” Crystal stood as well and tried to brush the wrinkles out of her skirt. He wondered if the blush blooming on her skin was from the worry of being caught out, or from his swearing.

“My mother is going to kill me!” she said, fumbling to adjust her gloves and gather her shawl at the same time. “I’m sorry I kept you.”She turned to him with wide eyes. “I did not realize it was so late.”

“Not your fault,” he said and reached around her to the saddlebag that hung on her vacated chair. She tried to move out of his way, but managed to stumble over her skirts instead. He only just caught her before she fell, and, for some reason, he was unable to make himself let go immediately. He could feel the wild beating of her heart beneath his chest. Or is that my heart? he wondered. His gaze was locked on hers, and he couldn’t look away. Her pupils were huge in the dim light. They drew him in and threatened to drown him once more.

She’s dead! You killed her! You killed her!

Joseph pushed away from Crystal abruptly, and he saw her catch herself on the chair to keep from falling again. He tried to force his dream out of his mind, but he felt like his head was in a well, words echoing around him. He barely noticed Crystal staring at him with concern.

“Are you all –” Crystal started to speak but her words were interrupted by a loud banging on the door and a rough voice.

“Joey, what the hell are you doing in there? You were supposed to be at Aleix’s an hour ago!”

The sound of Sam’s voice pulled him out of the well, and he gestured for Crystal to be quiet. Although she didn’t catch this, her frowning face turned towards the door.

“How rude. Who is–” Joseph clapped his hand over Crystal’s mouth before she could speak further. She looked at him with alarm and surprise, but he wasn’t about to let go.

He implored her to be quiet with a finger to his lips and slowly released his hold. His eyes stayed on her as he responded to Sam. “I’ll be out in a minute. Meet me downstairs.” There was a pregnant pause, followed by a loud grunt and muffled cursing. The sound of footsteps fading down the hall told them he would comply.

“Who was that?” Crystal asked in a whisper as soon as all was silent.

Joseph glanced at the door. “An old friend,” he said flatly. “I’m sorry if I scared you, but he’s not the nicest fellow, and it’s probably best that you don’t meet.”

She nodded, her gaze flickering to the door as well, eyes contemplating.

“Look, I’ve got to go,” Joseph said and grabbed the saddlebag he had failed to retrieve minutes before. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and tucked it in his pocket. When he turned back to face her, she was curiously eyeing the corner of the parchment that stuck out of his black trousers. He pushed the paper farther down, and she started as if he’d shouted.

“As do I,” she finally responded, yet another blush brightening her cheeks. She adjusted her skirts and held out her hand. “I’m glad we got to meet again.”

Joseph took it and raised an eyebrow at her, trying to suppress the grin that tugged at his lips. “It was nice to see you again too, Crystal.” He looked down at their clasped hands. “I guess the proper thing to do would be to . . .” He brought her hand to his lips. She smelled of rosemary and some sweet spice he could not place, and he had to remind himself to let go.

“Good-bye,” she said when he released her.

Joseph nodded. Is it getting darker in here, or is her blush redder than before? he wondered.

He watched her leave his room, ignoring the urge to ask her to stay a while longer. She wouldn’t accept anyway. Best to keep her out of his life as much as possible, though he was more than a little curious to know the reason she’d been here in the first place. He hadn’t gotten the chance to get all the answers he wanted from her.

Shaking his head, he pushed aside the complicated thoughts and began again to rummage through his bag. He needed to get going, Riley did not like to be kept waiting. He was bound to be counting the seconds until he got to Aleix’s Coffee House, growing more furious every moment. And Sam would probably be back up stairs any time, ready to drag him from the room.

He checked that his revolvers were loaded, and started to grab his cigarettes off the bedside table, when he noticed a small silk pouch on the floor near the chair that Crystal had just left. He grabbed the bag and felt the weight of coins inside. Going to the window, he searched the street below and spotted her just emerging from the hotel.

“Hey, Crys!”

She turned around in search of him but didn’t look up.

“Up here.” Her eyes found him as he leaned out the window.“Catch.” He lightly tossed the pouch down to her.

She nearly dropped the bag, when she realized what it was he had thrown she looked up at him perplexed.“You could have kept this, and I would have never known,” she called up to him.

He shrugged. “I don’t need it.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Welcome,” he said, his gaze followed her as she disappeared down the street. He felt that unnerving tingling on the back of his neck that he always got when knew he was being watched. He glanced across the street and caught sight of Sam and Jeremy staring at him intently, a grin on Sam’s face.

Cursing, Joseph pulled himself back inside. No doubt they had seen her, and now they knew it was because of her he hadn’t been at the meeting on time – even if it wasn’t the reason they might think. He snatched his cigarettes off the table and quickly left the room. I can still keep them from knowing she’s anything more than a prostitute, Joseph thought, taking the stairs two at a time. I just have to play it off.

Once outside he crossed the road to where the two men were standing, both cautiously observing him.

“Riley sent you boys to spy on me?” Joseph questioned, one brow raised.

“What’s it to ya?” Sam cocked his head. “Maybe if you was where you’re s’posed to be, we wouldn’t be catching you with mysterious women like this.”

“Mysterious women? You mean the one you saw me with? She’s just a whore from Maggie’s.” Joseph could barely keep the cringe from his face referring to Crystal as a whore. “She was doing me a favor making a house call. I guess I let time get away from me though.” He grinned at the men as he lit another cigarette.

Jeremy guffawed and slapped Joseph on the back. “Can’t blame a man for losing track of time with a dame like that, I s’pose.”

Joseph laughed as well, and they began to walk down the sidewalk together towards Aleix’s Coffee House. Sam trailed a few paces behind them, not saying a word. Joseph couldn’t help but feel he’d only convinced one of the two men that his story was true.



*******



Joseph walked into the back room of Aleix’s Coffee House, followed by Sam and Jeremy. A dozen men were sitting around a large oak table with cushioned chairs, smoking expensive cigars with equally expensive whiskey. The Clan was a threatening group of criminals, controlled by the most feared man in New Orleans. Theodore Riley was Tee to those who knew him, and Riley to those who respected him. Calling him Theodore could cost your life, or if you were important enough, only your tongue. Everyone knew that rule. Riley had many rules, and he expected them to be followed. But in exchange for loyalty, he offered protection. Every man in here had been running from something when Riley found him. From the law to other mobs, in the city Riley had connections, and he could put a stop to almost anything. That’s what the police paid him for, keeping the peace. They couldn’t catch him because nobody knew who he was or where he was. Who was working for him or who wasn’t. Sometimes it seemed as if everyone in the city worked for him. It was only recently that the Clan had been informed of the change of plans. New Orleans had had enough peace; it was time for some blood.

“Where the hell have you been?” Riley asked quietly from the head of the table.

“I got held up,” Joseph said nonchalantly. He sat down and took up a cigar.

“Held up by what?”

“You mean held up by whom,” Jeremy snorted, as he and Sam took a seat. Both Riley and Joseph shot him a harsh glare that made him sink low into his chair.

Riley fixed Joseph with his sharp gaze. “You think because you’ve been with me so long you can do what you want, Joey Boy? You don’t think you owe me enough to at least respect my time? After all I’ve done for you, this is how I’m repaid? Maybe it’s about time I lowered your rank in this group. What do you think boys?” Riley addressed the rest of the table. The response was mutual. They all wanted to see Joseph shoved down the power ladder, but Joseph was unconcerned. Riley had been threatening to demote him to a lesser role in the Clan ever since he’d gained his rank in the group.

“I been sayin’ it for years, boss,” Sam threw in. He had never gotten over the fact that Joseph was nearly the same place as him in the gang, and he’d been there twice as long. The truth of it was that Joseph was the boss’s favorite. There was no way around it.

“I’m givin’ you one more chance, Kid,” Riley addressed Joseph once more. “What was so much more important than my time that you couldn’t be here?”

Joseph threw Riley an annoyed glance. He was a big man, though not very tall. His hair was graying, and an extra hole had been added to his belt to accommodate his growing waist. His dark brown eyes, however, still held the same cunning, and his mind was as sharp as ever. His anger was never to be provoked, at least not by anyone but the favorite.

“I don’t see why I should tell you,” said Joseph, propping his feet up on the table unafraid of the boss’s wrath.

Riley’s eyes narrowed, and his face turned beet red. “Because if you don’t tell me I’m gonna give you somethin’ to get held up by!”

Joseph shrugged undaunted. “Fine. But I don’t know where your gonna find someone to replace me this late in the game.”

“I can do his job,” Michael piped in hopefully.

Joseph laughed mockingly at his younger brother, a slighter version of himself. As the youngest member of the Clan, Michael Cross was always the most overlooked, and he was forever seeking the attention that was bestowed on his older brother. “Yeah, Riley, let Mike do it. He’ll do great,” Joseph said, knowing there was no way Riley would go for this idea.

It was just like Michael to do this. Try and slip his way into Joseph’s job. He had been jealous of Joseph ever since it had become apparent that he was the boss’s favorite ten years ago – a position that, everyone knew, came with a large amount of benefits and recognition. It also came with a lot of animosity, especially from Michael who had always thought highly of Riley and wanted badly to be noticed by him although Joseph never understood why. He hated being the one Riley paid special attention to. The one who would always be missed at a meeting. The one who couldn’t leave.

Michael glared at Joseph and turned back to Riley. “I can do it, I know I can. Give me a chance.”

“Shut up, boy. You’ll hold the horses like you always do,” Riley said gruffly.

“He’s right, Riley,” Randy said ignoring Michael. A man of about middle age with shoulder length red hair, Randy was considered second in command. “We can’t replace him. So let’s just get down to business.”

“All right. But if he pulls this shit again, he’s out.”

Joseph shook his head, how many times had he heard that one. Everyone of them had gotten threats from Riley of the same degree. They all knew that he wouldn’t throw them out. It was worse than that; he wouldn’t let them out. When Riley took you in, he expected you to stay in. Joseph and Michael had been with Riley for ten years and Joseph himself had experienced what happened when you tried to leave.

“Alright, boys, what do we got?”

Joseph, along with four other men, pulled out folded pieces of paper. One at a time they went over the maps that they had drawn. All the maps held different information. Important information for what they were about to do. But they had done it all before, robbing banks wasn’t new to them.



*******



It was nearly dawn by the time Joseph made it back two his room at the Hotel de la Marines. He took off his jacket, shirt and hat, and tossed them on a chair. Then he went to the basin that sat on the dresser. He washed himself with the cold water and dried off using a cotton towel. The blue morning light that trickled in through the window revealed his eyes were dilated and blood shot from too much whiskey. He didn’t usually drink so much, but not being able to think straight seemed to be the best option after today. Going over to the window, he opened it and lit a cigarette. The smooth tobacco was the only thing that calmed his nerves anymore, ever since that dream.

Joseph, I’m here. Come to me.

He shook his head vigorously, thrusting the voice from his mind. His mother’s voice was far away in his dream but hauntingly real. He couldn’t bear to hear it after the way he’d let her down.

After he’d let her die.

The street below him was quiet and dark. At first light the street lamps were put out and the deep blue of the sky was all that lit the city. There was nothing in the streets but shadows and a drunk old man sitting under a fig tree at Café de Refugies crooning out a melody. The sound was eery in the hush of morning. Breaking in places, and halting to restart again at the beginning.

Joseph closed his eyes and saw her, holding out her arms for him as she’d done when he was a child. She beckoned him with her soft words, Joseph, I’m here. Come to me. I’m here. He would run as fast as he could, but it seemed no matter how far he ran he never got any closer.

Ma wait! He would shout. Don’t go, I’m sorry for what I did!

Then she would disappear, and he would fall down, down into darkness. It was so cold he couldn’t breathe or think. Death was so near he could taste it.

Then she would come. The woman with the quiet blue eyes. She appeared out of the dark, vibrant with an inner glow, reaching out to him, calling his name, willing him to live. He would take her hand, and, with a flash of light, he would be standing in a bright emptiness, and he held her close in his arms

She looked up at him with a sad smile. I’m so sorry, Joseph. Then she put her hand to her stomach, and to his horror, blood began seeping through her slim fingers. It covered her white dress in oozing scarlet. She went limp in his arms, and together they sank to the ground. He tried desperately to wake her, but he couldn’t speak. Only agonized moans escaped his lips. Her blue eyes were open and hollow, staring at him as he struggled to speak. Around him he could hear his own voice reverberating through the empty world, She’s dead! She died and it’s your fault! You killed her! You killed her!

“No!” Joseph slammed his fist into the windowsill, jarring himself out of his grim reverie.

Ever since that dream, he’d been on the look out for such a woman as her, determined to avoid her at all costs. He’d seen her face in a coach on Canal and once in the Place d’Armes. Though it turned out he hadn’t been seeing things at all. It was really her, but he wouldn’t let what happened in his dream happen to her, even if he had to stay in the blackness forever.

Flicking his cigarette into the night, he sat down on the bed, and took off his boots, then lay down. He stared at the ceiling and found himself feeling restless, a feeling not uncommon to him right before a job. This late in the game he just wanted to get it over with. Only a week left, and he could be at peace for a while. Although peace in his world, he knew, was just an illusion.

*******

Please continue with:"Chapter Nine:The St. Louis Cathedral"