Page 32 of Girl Between (Dana Gray FBI Mystery Thriller #5)

Dana climbed off the back of the motorcycle, her legs rubber from gripping so tightly.

Doing her best to discreetly straighten her disheveled skirt, she surveyed her surroundings.

The brightly painted double shotgun homes of the neighborhood seemed vaguely familiar and so did the street that buzzed with life.

Zydeco music drifted toward her from a bustling front porch.

Some of the best restaurants in New Orleans started from humble beginnings in homes just like these, hosting dinner parties to build up a following before going brick and mortar.

But from the way George had spoken of their reservations, Dana had been expecting a more traditional restaurant.

“Where are we going?” she asked when George reached for her hand.

“Mom’s,” he replied, leading her down the sidewalk toward the music.

“You mean Mother’s?” Even Dana had heard of the famous red beans and rice establishment. It was another on her list of places to visit while in New Orleans.

George grinned. “No. Just Mom’s, as in my mom’s place. And it’s way better than Mother’s. ”

Dana stopped walking. “You’re taking me to your mother’s house!”

“Technically, I’m taking you to my sister’s fais do-do. It’s a Haitian wedding tradition, so naturally, the bride’s mother is hosting.”

Dana tried to protest, but George had a hand on her lower back, already escorting her through the creaking front gate. Once inside the white picket fence, an assortment of Creole greetings rained down on them from the people crowding the front porch. “Bonswa! Sa k pase?”

Before Dana knew it, she was being passed around like a shiny new toy.

After way too many hugs and double cheek kisses, George rescued her, pulling her away from one of his overly inquisitive aunties.

“Alright, alright. Let’s not smother the good doctor,” George said, taking Dana by one hand and placing a cold beer in the other.

He led her through the house, making more introductions to an endless number of family members and what seemed like every cop in New Orleans, until they finally reached the backyard.

“George, I shouldn’t be here,” Dana whisper-hissed as they descended the steps and joined the fray.

“Why not?”

“Because this is your sister’s rehearsal dinner!”

“And?”

“And she doesn’t know me.”

“That’s something I think we should change,” came a smooth female voice.

Dana was met face-to-face with whom she could only describe as George’s twin. Albeit she was shorter and female, but there was no mistaking the relation. The woman had inherited the same flawless café au lait complexion and sparkling whiskey-brown eyes.

“Dr. Dana Gray, this is my baby sister, Cadence George.”

“Call me, Cadie,” the beautiful bride-to-be said, shaking Dana’s hand. “Dr. FBI, you’re famous ‘round these parts. ”

Dana raised her eyebrows, both at the nickname and the fact that Cadie seemed to know who she was. “Am I?”

She laughed. “Don’t let the size of our city fool ya. We still gossip like a one stop light town. Besides, my brother and Alphonse haven’t shut up about you since the bachelor party.”

“Did I hear my name?” A dashing young Hispanic man in a straw fedora said as he sauntered over and draped an arm around Cadie.

George made the introductions. “Dr. Dana Gray, meet my soon-to-be brother-in-law, Officer Alphonse Neville.”

“Dr. FBI!” Neville greeted, giving Dana an enthusiastic hug. “Have I got some questions for you!”

“Ignore my friend,” George said.

“ Best friend,” Neville corrected. “And I will not be ignored. It’s my party!”

“I’m sorry for crashing by the way,” Dana added.

Neville waved Dana’s worry away. “This is Nawlins, baby. There ain’t no such thing as party crashin’. Everyone’s welcome.”

Cadie nodded her agreement and clinked her beer bottle against Neville’s. George raised his and Dana did the same. She took a swig, reveling in the relief the cold beverage offered.

“We’re honored to have you working the Casquette Girl case with us,” Neville said.

“What’s my one rule?” Cadie interrupted.

“No work talk during wedding festivities,” Neville parroted with chagrin.

“That’s right. Now let’s go make the rounds,” Cadie said, leading her fiancé away. “It was nice to meet you, Dr. Gray,” she called over her shoulder.

“See ya ‘round the water cooler!” Neville added as he was dragged away.

Once they were alone, Dana turned to George. “Why is everyone calling me Dr. FBI?”

“What? You don’t like the nickname?”

“I’ve been called worse,” Dana replied, her unpopular moniker witch doctor coming to mind. “But that’s not the point. Why does Neville think I’m working the case with you?”

“I may have mentioned that an FBI consultant was offering assistance.”

“On authenticating your mask,” she clarified. “I’m not FBI, and I’m not working the case.”

George flashed that infuriating dimpled smile again and shrugged. “We’ll see. Come on, let’s eat.”