Louis Cemetery No. 1 in New Orleans at midnight, and as the distant church bell begins to toll the hour, I look around, expecting Gerdeaux to materialize from the darkness, like last time. But the seconds tick by, and the cemetery remains still. I wait for what seems like forever before pulling my cell phone out of my pocket to check the time. It’s 12:04 a.m., which isn’t really late yet. Still, I can’t fight the uneasy feeling brewing in the pit of my stomach. By 12:15, I’ve realized he’s not coming. I text Caleb—Gerdeaux not here. Headed back to car. I make it back over the wall and find Caleb’s Jeep idling by the curb. I climb into the passenger seat and glance at Caleb. He looks as concerned as I feel. “What happened to him?” he asks. “I don’t know.” “Maybe he changed his mind.” “I guess. But after the talk we had a couple of nights ago, that doesn’t seem right. Besides, if he changed his mind, that’s a bad thing too. Does that mean he’s decided not to work with us anymore?”
