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5
Mid-City, New Orleans, Louisiana
MONDAY, JULY 25, 6:10 P.M.
Who brought your car home?” Molly asked as she pulled her truck into Gabe’s driveway, parking behind his very old, but still reliable Honda Accord.
“Nobody. I walked to your office this morning.” He shrugged. “I walk to work nearly every day.”
“Makes sense. I’d walk, too, if I lived so close to the Quarter.” She was eyeing his house critically, and he felt himself becoming a little defensive, because he loved his home. “How many exterior doors do you have?”
Oh.His irritation subsided. She was checking security. His father had done the same thing. “One in the front and one in the back. One on one side, two on the other. So five total. It’s a common design for these old shotgun-style houses.”
Supposedly named because one could shoot a gun at the front door and the bullet would exit the back without hitting anything.
She turned to smile at him. “I like it. How long have you lived here?”
He relaxed even more. He didn’t think he could tolerate someone who didn’t like his house. It was almost as much his baby as was the Choux. “Six years. I’ve owned it for seven, but it took me most of a year to make it livable. It was truly a fixer-upper.”
“Katrina?”
“Yes. It wasn’t bad enough to be tagged for demolition, but pretty near.”
“You did it yourself?” she asked, sounding impressed.
He almost preened. “Most of the grunt work, yeah. One of Patty’s cousins on her mom’s side is a general contractor and he helped.” He grinned. “Free gumbo at the Choux for the rest of his days.”
“I’ve tasted the Choux’s gumbo, and I think he got a great deal. Show me around?”
“Of course.”
She grabbed a duffel bag from the back seat of her truck and, shouldering it, followed him up the front steps. “It’s very cheerful, with the red siding and the green door. Was it this color originally?”
“As close as I can figure.” He unlocked the front door, opened it, then disabled the alarm, cocking his head to listen for Shoe. Sure enough, he heard the dog’s excited yelp and the scrabble of claws on the hardwood floor of the narrow hallway that ran the length of the house.
He laughed, relieved. Part of him had been worried that they’d get to the dog. And guilty because he hadn’t considered the risk to Shoe when he’d left that morning.
He went down on one knee when Shoe ran at him, wagging his tail so hard it was a wonder he didn’t fall right over. “You’re okay,” he murmured, hugging the dog’s neck, feeling his eyes burn. The dog was all he had left of his father, and the thought that someone might have hurt the sweet mutt had him tearing up. He squeezed his eyes shut, surreptitiously drying them on Shoe’s coat. “We have a visitor,” he said more loudly.
“Oh, he’s a cutie.” Molly held out one hand to the dog so that he could sniff her. “Hey there, Shoe. Don’t eat my shoes and we’ll be friends forever.”
“I keep mine on a high shelf,” Gabe said. “Come on in. Make yourself at home.”
She shouldered her duffel and followed him into the house, then began turning in a slow circle, her admiration clear. “Oh, wow. I love the wood flooring. And the windows. Is this how it would have originally looked?”
“I kept the details as close as I could, but I had to guess on most of it. Then an old woman knocked on my door, about five years ago now. She’d lived down the street before Katrina, but lost her home and never moved back. She was in the area visiting some friends and she saw that I’d fixed the place up.” He smiled, remembering the woman’s emotion. “She had tears in her eyes. Said she’d lived in what used to be the house four doors down for most of her life, but it was demolished when FEMA came through. Whoever rebuilt there didn’t reproduce the old house, but mine looked exactly the same as before. Said her best friend used to live in this house.”
“Did she ask for a tour?” Molly asked, biting on her lower lip as if she wanted to say something but was holding back.
He wanted to nudge her poor lip to save it from her teeth, but he kept his hands to himself. Which was a real shame, because she had very pretty lips. Which he wasn’t going to notice. Stick to the program, Hebert. “No, but I gave her one. You’re thinking that she could have robbed me.”
She lifted a shoulder. “Once a cop... But I’m glad that you didn’t think that way. She must have been so happy.”
“She cried. Sobbed like a child. We took a photo together and I emailed it to her grandson, who was driving her around. She and I have exchanged Christmas cards ever since.”
Molly was smiling at him now. “I think you’re a very nice man, Gabriel Hebert.”
His cheeks heated. “Anyone would have done the same.”
