Imogene in New Orleans by Hunter Murphy Page A

Billy yelled, slamming his hand against the bed. Jackson braced himself as Imogene swung the door wide open.

Eight
    As Neil walked into the room, Imogene greeted him with a big hug. “Honey, ask these boys if Maw-Maw McGregor hadn’t worried sick over you.” She squeezed him and then let him inside.
    “I’m fine.” Neil glanced at Jackson, who felt the tension in the room dissipate. “Man, we thought you were…someone else.” He walked over to Neil and patted him on the shoulder. Goose stopped growling and trotted over to give Neil a welcome sniff.
    “Is everything all right?” Neil asked. “You’re acting like something’s wrong.”
    Jackson placed Neil’s bags on the table. “Oh, no, we were just worried about you. And…uh...” Jackson glanced at Billy, who shook his head. Neither of them wanted to tell Neil about seeing Rogers either.
    “How’d you get outta the clink, son?” Imogene rubbed his back.
    Neil made her sit down and then he slid next to Billy on the bed. “Oh, well, I told Rogers I had a friend in the city council and I meant it. I’ve done enough work around the city to meet some folks, and you know, I always say New Orleans is really a small town. But anyway, when I called my friend, he was at a charity gala in the Garden District, but he called me back eventually. They released me last night around ten thirty. If it hadn’t been for that sonuvabitch Rogers, I never would’ve gone in the first place. I don’t know who he thinks he is.”
    Imogene said, “You talking ‘bout that gruff constable? Shoot, we just—”
    Jackson interrupted her. “We just worried about you.” Neil raised his head to look at Jackson squarely. Jackson glanced at Billy again and then said, “We called Allen to check on you.”
    “Hmm, okay.” Neil’s eyes opened wider as he looked askance at the boys. “That’s sweet of you to worry, but I’ll be keeping a close watch on how this investigation of Glenway is handled, especially after yesterday.” Neil clasped his hands together with authority. “That jerk.” He looked at the wall as if he could hit it. “But anyway, sorry. Since you were supposed to be on vacation, I picked up a few things for you.”
    Imogene scooted her chair closer as he started offering gifts one by one: three streetcar vouchers for the week; tickets to the Mardi Gras museum across the Mississippi River in Algiers; and six pounds of the best beads in his collection.
    “Y’all know I don’t miss a parade, even if I have to go alone. I keep an eye out for beads, especially the exotic kind with the medallions of the different krewes and various symbols of Carnival.” He showed them a plastic necklace with an enormous hollow cabbage from the Saint Patrick’s Day parade. Imogene slung it around her neck before Billy could get a good look at it.
    Neil chuckled and then finished by giving them another box of pralines, which Lena had insisted he take this morning, with a special message that Imogene come see her as soon as possible.
    “That’s a precious woman, that Lena Ward. I surely appreciate her.”
    Billy shot Jackson another look. Neil asked, “Why are you two so quiet?”
    Jackson reached into the suitcase. “We…rather, Imogene found a leather-bound journal in Glenway’s studio. It has some funny names in it, nicknames apparently.” He handed it to Neil.
    Neil thumbed through the book. “I’ve never seen this before.” He squinted and pulled at the ends of his mustache. “Catfish? Hmm.” Imogene winked at the boys triumphantly, as if Neil was on her side in finding that particular name worthy of special note and consideration. Billy rolled his eyes. Neil looked at the dog-eared pages. “Let’s see, Blue Moon…Canebrake… Buddy…Catfish again…TH...well…and Pirate. I don’t know what to make of all this.”
    “Why’d you say ‘TH…well’?” Billy asked. “Do you have a question about those ‘TH’ initials in particular?”
    Neil’s