The House of Dream and Crescent City Mystery

    The music could be heard from blocks around coming from the House of Dream on Rue de St. John. Bodies flow in an out, into the muggy August air in New Orleans. The weekend of August 16th was always a major party time around Rue de St. John for two very important reasons. First, it was the anniversary of the formation of the House of Dream, the most prestigious drag house in the Cresent City. For 12 years The House has been a center of refuge for so many kids in NOLA who needed a roof and a hot meal. The second reason was the person sitting on a bench staring at a puddle of mysterious origins.     Dressed in a shimmering silver dress that fell gracefully to just above the knee and strappy heels that had tufts of white feathers on the heel strap, the Mother of the House of Dream looked like a dream. But, as Cameron sat on the beach and watched his daughters and their guests walk into the House all he could feel was confusion. He tipped his cup back and was met with dry air. Only a brief thought was given to getting up and having the young, gorgeous, but inexperienced bartender Nairobi hired for another amaretto sour. He remained seated and kept staring at the puddle. Knowing that its NOLA the obvious idea of it being water cannot be guaranteed but there's not a good way that test that wouldn't involve the sacrifice of a perfectly manicured toe.     "Mother, what are you doing out here? It's your birthday! Come back inside I think Sydney was looking for you," Paris said. She had just arrived in boy clothes with her new beau, Erick. Erick had his arm draped around Paris' lower back and was beaming into his face.      "No face tonight Paris?" Cameron responded. He was aware Syndey was on the lookout for him. Several other members of the House had made him aware the first daughter was trying to find him. However, still hadn't considered stepping outside of the party to do so. Cameron assumed Sydney eventually would send her husband Rodrigo outside to grab her when it was time for the cake.     "Not tonight momma. Erick took me to a new restaurant in Marginy before we came here. Had to be all fancy and stuff, right babe?" Erick nodded his head and planted a kiss on Paris' forehead. Cameron was forced to betray his mood looking at 5'6 Erick reach up to Paris' 6'2 temple.      "Hm, ok. Go on inside, I'll be in a bit. Just getting some air out here. The House of Shantay arrived a little while ago and you know Mother Shantay loves to drown in cologne before going anywhere." Paris gave a small laugh and sprinted through the door, dragging Erick behind him.     The music coming from inside the House changed to an update song heavy with bass. Cameron closed his eyes and felt the bass thumping through his back. A warm breeze blew down the street and carried the light scent of sweets most likely from the boulangerie on the corner.     "Here you are! Sydney is going crazy trying to find you," Rodrigo said. "Hey, are you ok?" Rodrigo stepped out of the House and sat down next to Cameron. His long legs stretching out in front of him, easily clearing the lip of sidewalk. He crossed his ankles just a few inches away from the puddle of mysteries.      "Have you seen him?" Cameron asked. He bowed his head and his bob cut silver and blue wig hid his face from Rodrigo's soft and compassionate gaze. Rodrigo put a hand on Cameron's back and slowly rubbed between his shoulder blades in small circles.      "No, I haven't".     "Why isn't he here Rigo? Something is wrong. Kit would never miss the House Anniversary or my birthday. He didn't come last night for the new girls' debut and I haven't even gotten a text from him since Thursday, that's four days!"     "Was he working at Mercy again this week? I know he's said before those shifts are intense and they don't allow phones on the floor."     "No. He was at Tulane this week and he already said he was going to come this weekend. Rigo, I'm worried and I'm not sure what I should be doing. Like, do I call the cops or maybe I need to just go by his place?" Cameron stood up and faced Rodrigo. Tense tears rolled down his cheeks although his makeup remained impeccable.      "Hey, I'm sure Kit is ok. You know he tends to get in his moods and will have to take some time for himself. How about, if we still haven't heard anything from him by tomorrow I'll go with you to Slidell and see if we can break into his apartment and teach him some manners?"     "Yeah, ok," Cameron said. He cracked a smile as he thought about crashing into Kit's tiny apartment and making him explain his behavior. Bonus points, if it just so happens to wake him up.      "Ok, now are you going to come inside with me? If I don't bring you and present you to Sydney I'm afraid this might be the end of my marriage Cam," Rodrigo said and poked Cameron on the side.     Cameron nodded and grabbed the hand Rodrigo was offering him. He did a small curtsy and then adjusted his wig and smoothed his dress. The smile wasn't hard to wear but it was difficult to maintain. Rodrigo's words made sense to him but something made him feel uneasy. Kit and Cameron had been best friends for nearly 15 years at this point and Cameron could sense when something was wrong with him. Although Cameron didn't tell Rodrigo or anyone for that matter, he had been sensing something was strange with Kit for a few months. Canceling plans, ghosting on texting, avoiding the House, all of this was very strange for Kit. Cameron blew out the candles and accepted all the well-wishes and gifts but his mind was far away. Where was Kit? ----------     "What do we have?"     The side of the river was swarming with New Orleans PD and Louisiana Troopers, on the far side of the Mississippi River on Algier's Point. Police officers gathered in groups between the shore and the road up top. This late at night only a few were needed to control the crowd and the press hadn't had time to make if from the city just yet. But, everyone was on edge on the possibility this was what they hoped it wasn't.     "Hispanic male, mid to late twenties, it looks like another one," one of the beat officers said.     "God this street kids, they live hard and they die harder than they deserve," the lead detective said. Her name was Detective La Pont and she had been on the New Orleans police force since 1987. Yet everything she had seen in her long career she never got used to seeing a young person wash up on the shores of the river or the lake.     "I don't think this one is a street kid detective," the officer said. "He still had his ID on him, he was a triage nurse at Mercy and Tulane."     "What?" La Pont said. She took the ID holder and set of keys from the officer and looked down at a smiling face with a tangle of black curly hair. Large bushy eyebrows dominated his face and neatly trimmed mustache sat just above his lip. He had a silver hoop in his left nostril and a small diamond in the ear on the same side. The name on the ID reading "Kameron Ike Taylor."     "Kameron," La Pont said to herself. "You didn't deserve this. No one deserves this."     "La Pont come here. You need to see this," Herveaux said from near the body. Mathieu Herveaux was with the Orleans Parish coroners office and Spencer Langley stood next to him from the state coroner's office.      "What am I looking at Herveaux?" La Pont asked. He pointed to the ground next to the young man, who had been flipped on his back and covered up from his unclothed state. Covered and eyes closed he looked peaceful, sleeping. On the ground, there were words written on the top of the concrete retainer wall. La Pont moved closer and say they read out: "Welcome to the Sainted City."     "What the hell is that supposed to me?" she asked the general vicinity.     Herveaux didn't answer but walked over to young man's body and pulled the sheet back to reveal his chest. La Pont was no longer surprised at what she was going to see, tattooed onto the corpse in the middle of the chest was an image of two lilies-of-the-valley with an X of thorny vines behind them, and one single star resting between the two flowers. She could draw the image from memory after seeing it on the chest of four other young men that had appeared on the shores of the Mississippi in the past two months. But, the words were new and this one didn't seem to be a street kid either.     "Where was the ID found?" La Pont asked.     "It was just lying next to him. Only his legs were in the water when we arrived. And it was an anonymous call that came into dispatch," Langley responded.     "This one was special. But, why? Why would whoever did this take the risk of leaving an ID? And why wasn't this body dumped like the others?" Herveaux wondered out loud.     La Pont kneeled and looked on the side of the neck where she found a small tattoo of three capital letters: KIT.