Tara slept well, happy dreams filling her head. When she woke, and after a shower, she dressed in jeans, flip flops and three layers of tank tops. The weather man promised a hot steamy day. She had enough time to walk to the Cafe du Monde for Cajun coffee and hot beignets. Who cared that it was 5 in the afternoon?<br/><br/>She was just licking the last of the powdered sugar from her fingers when she arrived at Ursaline.<br/>"Hey, " she greeted Marie, who scowled at her for being 10 minutes late. Tara pretended not to notice. "How many vacancies do we have for tonight?" she inquired, going to the tiny rest room to wash her hands.<br/><br/>"Two,"Marie answered, tersely," We have a new tenant, a Mr. England. Pays cash, has an accent."<br/><br/>"An accent? What kind?" Tara asked, coming back drying her hands on a white paper towel.<br/><br/>"What kind? Well, duh, Tara. Obviously it isn't Middle Eastern? His name would have been Mohammadoo or something." Marie snapped, gathering her purse and heading out the door.<br/><br/>Tara rolled her eyes and snapped on the television. Her eyes grew wide<br/><br/>"A fatal crash out on the Bridge today killed a man. Daniel O'Brien, 32, from Dayton, Ohio, drove his late model car over the bridge that spans the River. When emergency crews finally were able to reach the car, O'Brien was DOA. Stay tuned for the latest greatest in entertainment, Go Kart riding at the Swamp. More when we come back." The TV anchor said.<br/><br/>Tara didn't hear the commercial. Danny was dead.