Harvest Moon Blues

The night draped itself over Bourbon Street like a heavy velvet curtain, and the city of New Orleans came alive in the clandestine embrace of a jazz-filled speakeasy. The air was thick with the smoky residue of secrets and the haunting strains of saxophones that lingered like whispers. Jack Callahan slipped through the beaded curtain at the entrance, a silent silhouette against the backdrop of dim...