Dead and Breakfast (The New Orleans Go Cup Chronicles Book 2) by Colleen Mooney Page A

of us knew what topics were off limits. Soon, we were laughing and smiling at each other. He pulled out his notebook and told me what he found out regarding the phone records.
    “It seems the number that left the message was a local 504 number. I looked it up to see who it belonged to. The call was made from a pay phone inside Pancake Paddy about 6:00 p.m. the night St. Germain checked in. The other blocked calls were from a cell phone that originated in the same cell tower with the 225 area code. The lab said it would take a few days to see if they could ID that cell number.”
    I said, “The dead guy was a band member in The Levee Men. His ex-girlfriend worked at Pancake Paddy right up the street from the Bed and Breakfast. It might be a good idea to talk to her. One of the band members said her name is Violet Fornet. I don’t know anymore about her but the band members who played with the dead guy might. I bumped into one of your fellow groomsmen in the wedding at Jazz Fest, Little Tony, who told me The Levee Men were playing that day. I went to talk to them backstage.”
    “Steer clear of that idiot. I’d like to strangle him.”
    “Little Tony? He’s a goof, but harmless, besides you’re a fellow groomsman of his in the big wedding, aren’t you? It might not look good for you to kill him.”
    “Yeah? Maybe they’ll kick me out and I won’t have to stand in it.”
    “If that happens, tell them I helped you strangle him so I’ll get booted out too.” We both laughed, but I seemed more amused than Dante.
    “Why are you and I standing together, if Little Tony is the Best Man?” Dante asked me.
    “Have you met the grandmother with the permanent scowl on her face?” I asked him.
    “No, why?”
    “Angela said even though Little Tony is the best man, someone has to escort Nana up and down the aisle, and in and out of the pew. Angela’s mother, Miss Angela, decided Little Tony had to escort Nana around so she doesn’t fall and she can keep up with the rest of the wedding party. Since all the other groomsmen are Italian, and short, that leaves you as the only one tall enough to stand with me,” I said.
    “You’re kidding, right?”
    “I might have to like Nana because of this,” I said laughing.
    We finished our drinks and he asked if I’d join him for dinner. There was a table for two waiting for us in the corner in the smaller dining room. There were no tables close to us and it felt very private. Dante sat with his back to the wall and I sat to his left, not across from him. We both had a phobia about sitting with our backs to the door, his probably from police training and I probably got mine from him. It did make us sit closer together rather than across from each other.
    “This is very nice, us here having a drink and dinner. I miss catching up with you after our day,” I said. Dante had ordered a bottle of wine, which was waiting at the table for us.
    “I miss you, us, too. I know I’m not very open with the way I’m feeling about things but we’ve known each other forever, Brandy.”
    “Yes, we have. I’m afraid everyone, our parents—both sets—had such great expectations for us that we didn’t know if it was what we wanted.”
    “I always knew I wanted you. Us.”
    I’m not sure what I was expecting but I wasn’t expecting a new, romantic Dante to be wooing me on a date. I started to feel a little guilty like I was cheating on Jiff when Saturday morning I had felt like I was cheating on Dante when he came by my house to drop the report.
    “I’m glad we got some things out in the open,” I said. “I don’t like not talking with you and not being nice to each other. No matter what happens we should always be friends.”
    “I want more than nice, and I don’t want to be friends. I’m willing to work to get you back,” he said, taking my hands on the table.
    “What about your partner, Hanky? I don’t want to mess up anything you might have going on there,” I said feeling