Just as they reach the front door, Gabe informs her, “This is a first.”
“How so?”
“Well, let’s just say she has no blood. None. None at all left inside her.”
Addie pushes the partly opened doors. The large wooden doors open to a beautifully decorated French Quarter mansion furnished with French antiques. Immaculately clean and classically appointed, the residence exudes elegance and sophistication.
“I’ve seen blood-filled rooms before.”
A pale, lifeless body is draped on a wingback chair in the middle of the ebony and cocoa parquet floor that is surrounded by ivory carpet. Dressed in a strapless, powder blue evening dress with no shoes, her knees are together, lower legs crossed, her left foot over her right. A petite girl of 5’3”, her head is tilted to the right, and her long, silky, strawberry blond hair hangs between her neck and right shoulder, stopping just short of her 34D, unassisted, natural cleavage.
