The Silver Lake Murder, Gregg Matthews [ebook reader .TXT] 📗

shop, I saw you there,” Nola says without manners.

She and Nola consume their lunch quickly, saving the apple for last. She and Nola bite into the apple simultaneously, making them both giggle at the crunching sounds.

“My boyfriend Blake did your tattoo work, right?” Rose says chewing apple.

“Right, he’s a great tattoo artist,” Nola says.

“Oh, thank you for the compliment,” Rose says.

“Where is he?” Nola says, looking around the room for him.

“I don’t know we were separated by the hurricane; I have not seen him in months!” Rose says with her eyes filling with tears.

“Oh, Rose,” Nola says.

“Have you seen him since the hurricane?” Rose says through tears.

“Yes, I think I have,” Nola says, deep in thought.

“Where?” Rose shouts intensely.

“I think I saw him in one of the lines for food a few months ago, but it was from a distance,” Nola says.

Rose’s mind wanders, thinking about the last time she saw Blake. The last time she saw Blake alive, he was sitting at his drawing table in the tattoo shop on Bourbon Street, working on a large complex stencil for a customer’s new tattoo. There were several tattoo artists and customers in the process of giving and receiving new tattoos.

She was on the computer behind the counter. The shop was in full swing, making money. There were some bad weather reports on the news feeds that kept getting worse. Not being from New Orleans, she did not take the news seriously. She never realized the strength of a hurricane in the south.

When the storm hit the streets, all hell broke loose. The rain kept coming and over time, the city began to sink. As the storm raged on, the front windows to the shop broke and the shop was quickly flooded.

She doesn’t remember all of what happened next. She remembers swimming and hanging on to the side of an old wooden boat. She was rescued by the National Guard and processed through many shelters to sleep and eat. Over time the storm faded and the rebuilding of the city began. That was the last time she saw Blake alive more than a few months ago.

Nola saying, she saw Blake after the storm gives her hope Blake is alive.

“Will you help me find him?” Rose asks.

“Sure Rose, I will help you,” Nola says with a smile.

CHAPTER 26

Later in the day, Rose and Nola walk down Bourbon Street. Some of the bars and restaurants are open; most are in disrepair. The ones that are open have a makeshift kitchen in the front of them. The bar area is pouring drinks.

The buildings she walks past have water lines up by the roof. She points to the water line and looks at Nola.

“Yes, these buildings were underwater, Rose.”

“Wow.”

The noise of diesel engines cause Rose to jump. She feels the tug on her shoulder. Nola grabs her and moves her to the side of the street. As tow-trucks drive up and down Bourbon Street. The tow-trucks remove the disabled cars lining the streets. The tow-trucks have been running twenty-four hours a day since the hurricane subsided. There are abandoned and disabled cars all over the city. The tow trucks move the cars out to a vacant lot in the woods out of the way.

Rose looks out over Bourbon Street; she looks at Nola and can tell she is about to say something.

“Bourbon Street is thirteen blocks in the French Quarter, we need to stay in this area. If Blake is here, he might be doing the same thing—looking for you in this area,” Nola says with hope.

“Okay, Nola.”

“Rose, you walk south on Bourbon Street, on this side of the street.”

“Okay, Nola.”

“I will walk south on Bourbon Street on the other side of the street.”

“Okay, Nola.”

“Meet back here in one hour.”

“Right.”

Tired, and sore, Rose walks south down Bourbon Street carefully. The people look dangerous, and she knows they are out to take your money and anything of value. She has nothing and still doesn’t feel safe. Daylight time is the safest time to be out in the streets and she has a few more hours of daylight left. She can see the sun starting to set in the southern sky over the city. The people who hang around the street corners, are trying to get her attention. She keeps walking, keeping the distance to the shop in mind. She wants to stay close.

Noticing another hour is up, she walks back to Rivers Tattoo shop at 704 Bourbon Street to meet Nola. She sees a dirty white sign with black letters spelling out Rivers Tattoo Shop. Looking at the shop, she sees it is an old wooden building that used to be a house but was converted into storefront years ago. There is a large window in the middle of the building. From the outside, you can see right into the middle of the shop. Before the hurricane, you could see several tattoo artists and several customers working together. The shop was a bright spot on a busy street.

Now when she looks at the building, she can see the water line at the top. The building was submerged in water a few months back. The outside of the building has white paint and large patches missing and showing the wood. There are pieces of wood missing and some pieces of wood are hanging onto the front of the building. The large window in the front is broken. There is no glass left. Looters came in early after the hurricane and took anything of value. They finished knocking the window out to get in and out of the building faster.

The front porch used to have furniture for customers to sit in. The furniture has been washed away from the storm. She sits on the front porch next to Nola, looking at the setting sun.

“I’m exhausted,” Nola says.

“Me too,” Rose says.

“Right, it’s not safe on the streets, we better go hide for the night,” Nola says.

Rose climbs in the front window of Rivers Tattoo shop and sits on