So far, they’d come up dry. A couple people at the department stores remembered seeing Jacob, but having no jobs available, he’d left, apparently to continue his search. By now it was late evening. They’d spent the entire day asking questions without coming up with any answers. Parking by the Brewery, they decided to walk back to Theresa’s place, taking those few moments to unwind. Max had mentioned dinner, but Theresa declined, not really hungry and feeling a bit saddened at their lack of progress. She felt in her heart it was already too late to help Jacob, but Tommy could still be rescued, if they could just get the right answer to the right question. Within a few minutes, they were in the heart of the French Quarter, the sounds of jazz spilling out into the streets from the clubs located up and down Charters and Bourbon Streets, catcalls echoing in the darkness from the sex clubs. A cool breeze carried the unique scents of New Orleans. Smells of magnolia and honeysuckle, faint and seductive, intermingled with the spicy aroma of Creole cooking and the salty brine wafting from the waters of the nearby river basin.
