The Nicci Beauvoir Collection: The Complete Nicci Beauvoir Series

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The Nicci Beauvoir Collection: The Complete Nicci Beauvoir Series Page 51

by Alexandrea Weis


  I went over and took the bandage from his hand. Then I examined his black and blue ribs. “You’re still sore.”

  “I’m all right.” He sat back in the chair and watched as I fixed his bandage. “You would have been a good nurse.”

  I shook my head. “No, I would have been a mediocre nurse.”

  “Why, didn’t you like nursing?”

  “My heart wasn’t in it.” I sat on the bed and noted his labored breathing. “I graduated from school and got a job.” I grimaced. “Well, actually, Michael got me a job at the hospital where he worked. But then David came back and I moved into our place in Hammond. After that, I didn’t feel the need to work as a nurse. That’s when I started writing.”

  “You still working on that story you started?”

  “When I can.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Suddenly his eyes turned cold again. His voice became distant. “We need to start planning for Hammond. We’ll need food, supplies, and ammunition. All the necessities.”

  I nodded and stood up from the bed. “I can go to the local grocery store up there after we get settled in and—”

  “No,” he stopped me. “Go out today with your father or Lance and get everything we need.” His eyes were immediately riveted on mine. “I don’t want us leaving the house once we’re there. If we need more supplies let’s make arrangements for Lance or your father to bring them up.”

  I nodded. “Anything else?”

  He looked about the room. “What kind of gun do you keep up at the house in Hammond?”

  “A Smith & Wesson hammerless .38.”

  “Then get extra ammo for that as well.” He took a breath, wincing slightly. “Go to the bank and withdraw at least two thousand in cash, in case we have to make a hasty departure. I don’t want a credit card trail.”

  “I’ll tell Uncle Lance. He can go to the bank when he goes for our rental car this morning.”

  “Tell Lance to make it an SUV or truck. I don’t want something that can get stuck in the mud in case we’re chased or trapped. Does your garage have a lock on it up there?”

  I shook my head. “Just two doors that don’t close all the way.”

  “Then go to the hardware store. Buy a lock and chains to secure the doors. We’ll need something to seal up windows as well.”

  “I have some plywood left over from the hurricane we could use.”

  He nodded. “Good enough. We should be ready to leave early the morning after Val’s party. I’ll want as much daylight to get things in order, and Nicci, once we are in Hammond, I never want you out of my sight, day or night.”

  The world had suddenly become a little darker for me, and for the first time in my life, I feared the future. I had survived the sharp-tongued insults of a snobby southern upbringing, the heartache of my mother’s death, betrayal, intrigue, engagement to a moron, and the loss of the only man I had ever loved. Even the devastation of Katrina had not dampened my belief in the eventuality of good. From all things bad something good does come, I was once told, and up until that moment in my life, I had believed it. But how do you sustain such hope when your faith in the certainty of tomorrow is threatened? What do you believe in when another is killing for control of your destiny?

  “I feel like I’m preparing for war,” I whispered.

  “We are, Nicci,” Dallas affirmed. “We are.”

  I spent the rest of the day running errands with my father. He stuck close by me, even following me to the checkout counter at the pharmacy while I stocked up on bandages and hydrogen peroxide for Dallas.

  We returned after dark to find the house lit up from top to bottom. There was a Jeep Cherokee with four-wheel drive sitting next to my uncle’s red Jaguar.

  My uncle and Dallas were in the den when Dad and I brought several bags of groceries and supplies inside. Dallas and Uncle Lance followed us into the kitchen and then Dallas started sorting through the bags. I could see him going through his mental checklist as he systematically went through each bag.

  Dallas seemed in his element. The heightened sense of urgency made his movements sharper and his eyes brighter, as if his body flourished under this kind of stress. He was hardwired for excitement, and living dangerously suited him, but not me. I had been willing my body and mind to endure the escapades of the past two weeks, but I was coming to my precipice and it was only a matter of time before I fell over the edge. A heavy weight settled over me, and the room suddenly became very small. I quickly walked over to the kitchen door.

  “I’ll be right back,” I called out to the three men.

  I went to the bar in the den and poured myself a drink. I hoped the alcohol would help fortify my crumbling walls.

  I was sitting on a stool in front of the bar nursing what was left of my screwdriver when my uncle came into the room. He smiled at me when he walked in, but I could see his eyes were not filled with their usual mischief.

  “What is it, Nic?” he asked.

  I immediately thought of what Dallas had told me before about my uncle seeing us together in this very room and I felt my face go red. I looked down into my drink, trying to hide my embarrassment.

  “Just needed a drink,” I mumbled.

  Uncle Lance approached the bar. “Sure you did.” He took a seat on the stool next to me. He reached over and lifted my chin. “I didn’t see that much, kid, only a few highlights.”

  “Oh, God!” I placed my drink down on the bar and covered my face with my hands.

  He pulled my hands away from my face. “I was there when Val gave you that painting of you naked in the bathtub, remember? You weren’t embarrassed then. So what’s really bothering you, kid?”

  I shook my head as I tried to find the words.

  “Hey,” he stood and put his arms around me. “I know I’m not the brightest squirrel in the nuthouse around here, Nicci, but I can tell this whole thing has gotten to you.”

  I pulled away from him and took a deep breath. “I’m afraid I’m not cut out for all of this spy stuff.”

  Uncle Lance laughed. “Kid, you were born for this. You’re beautiful, smart, and cunning like your old man, and charming like your young uncle. You have the makings of a great spy!”

  “No, Uncle Lance, I’m only good with overzealous fans and slimy book publishers. I wouldn’t know what to do with a cold-blooded killer.”

  “But Dallas knows what to do, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s got something planned for the party tomorrow night, but I’m not exactly sure what it is.”

  “Well, I know all his suspects will be there,” Uncle Lance said as he sat back down on his stool. “Valie called and told me about the guest list. She wasn’t too thrilled about your inviting the moron, but I covered for you.”

  “What did you tell her?” I asked worriedly, knowing Val could very easily pry any information out of my uncle when required.

  “I just told her you were trying to patch things up with Michael and felt guilty about how everything ended between you.”

  I eyed him skeptically. “And she believed you?”

  “Of course. I can be quite convincing when the need arises.” He grinned. “Valie also told me the rumor mill has been on fire about Dallas and the car accident. Seems a lot of people are coming to the party just to check out his bruises.”

  “That’s good. It will make it look more convincing when we leave for Hammond.”

  “And what happens after Hammond, kid?”

  “After Hammond?” I shook my head. “I don’t think I can comprehend an after, Uncle Lance. Maybe we should just concentrate on catching the killer.”

  “Dallas will get his man.” He raised his eyebrows. “Or woman. I’m sure of that.” He paused for a moment as his eyes inspected mine. “But what are you going to get out of this, Nicci?”

  I thought about his question and then shrugged. “I guess I’ll get my life back. Catching this maniac is the first step for me.” I paused. “After that I’m letting go. I’ll sell the house in Ham
mond and start fresh somewhere else.”

  “With Spy Boy?”

  “No, it’ll be just me for starters.”

  “I think you need to reconsider, Nicci. Dallas cares for you, maybe more than he is willing to admit.”

  “Does he?” I took a breath and felt a renewed sense of purpose awaken inside of me. “I don’t think so. I want a life with a man who is willing to be with me and not…work around me.”

  Uncle Lance nodded his head and then the brightness in his face faded. “Promise me you’ll be careful in Hammond,” he whispered. “You’re all I got, kid.”

  I reached over and held his hand. “I promise. And promise me you’ll keep an eye on Dad. He will be itching to join us in Hammond and you must keep him from worrying about me.”

  “That won’t be easy. But if all else fails, I can tie him to his bed. Just like I used to do when we were kids.”

  I laughed at the idea. “No wonder you two fight like cats and dogs all the time.”

  He gave me a devilishly handsome smile. “Your old man is one hell of a grudge holder.”

  I leaned over to my uncle and kissed his cheek. “It runs in the family, Uncle Lance.”

  Later the next evening, Dallas barged into my room as I was standing in my strapless bra and panties looking through the gowns in my closet.

  “I like what you’ve got on,” he quipped.

  I quickly ran from my closet and reached for my robe lying across a chair by my desk. While I was covering up, Dallas walked over and sat down on my bed.

  He was wearing the gray sling over his black tuxedo. The gash above his left eye was healing, but it still looked bruised and tender.

  Trying to ignore his intrusive gaze, I went back to my closet and pulled out a long gray gown that I had decided to wear. His dark blue eyes followed me as I placed the dress on the bed next to him.

  “Not that one. Wear the green one I gave you,” he ordered in his husky voice.

  I inspected the gray dress. “Why? It’s good enough for tonight.”

  “You need to look stunning tonight. I want all eyes on you.”

  I shrugged and put the gray gown back in the closet. I pulled the long green velvet dress out, took it to the bed, and laid it out over my comforter.

  He slowly rose from the bed. “Put your hair up. And wear this.” He threw a rectangular blue velvet box on top of the dress.

  I glanced down at the box. “What’s that?”

  “Open it.”

  Inside I found a stunning tennis necklace made up of over fifty interchanging brilliant cut diamonds and round cut emeralds flowing into a graduated pattern. The necklace was set in white gold and the matching cascade of white and green one-carat stones glistened in the bedroom light. I looked from the necklace to Dallas, feeling a little overwhelmed.

  He nodded to the necklace. “I’m a very rich architect tonight. Tell everyone I gave you that today.”

  I ran my hands over the flawless stones. “Where did you get this?”

  “I brought it from New York.”

  “You rented it?” I wondered who in the hell would let him borrow such an expensive piece of jewelry.

  He turned to leave. “It’s for you. A gift. I figured you would probably deserve it sooner or later for putting up with me.”

  I stared at his back for a moment in disbelief. “I can’t accept this, Dallas. This is worth a fortune.”

  “You can accept it and will,” he barked angrily. “Now get ready.” He began to walk out of my room, then stopped and turned back to me. “Nicci, tonight when people ask you about me, I want you to tell them you are in love with me and that I’ve asked you to marry me and move to New York.”

  “Marry you? Don’t you think it’s a bit soon?”

  He let out a long sigh. “I told you before, we need to provoke a reaction tonight.”

  I inspected the necklace once more. “You’re going to send everyone at that party into an absolute frenzy.”

  “Let’s hope so,” he said, rushing out of my room.

  * * *

  When I made my way down the stairs, Uncle Lance was already waiting by the first-floor landing. My father was staring out the front window, and Dallas was standing beside him. When my father turned around and saw me, his jaw dropped.

  “Where in the hell did you get that?” My father asked as he pointed at the necklace. “And that dress?” He examined the green velvet and whistled softly.

  “Darlin’, you look like a princess,” Uncle Lance cooed as I came up to his side.

  I nodded to Dallas. “He gave me the dress and the necklace.”

  Uncle Lance scrutinized Dallas. “What are you, a Rockefeller?”

  Dallas walked forward and took my hand. “No. A wealthy boat builder.”

  My father knitted his brows together. “A what?”

  A car from the driveway distracted all of us as a bright pair of headlights came up to the house.

  Dallas went over and looked out the window by the front door. “The limo’s here.” He turned and headed back to the front closet. “I’ll get your coat,” he said to me.

  “Limo?” I asked.

  “Your rich boyfriend did not want any of us driving,” Uncle Lance replied, “in case someone decided to do something funny with one of our cars at the party.”

  Dallas placed my suede and faux fur coat about my shoulders. “And we have to arrive in style,” he added.

  “Well, if that outfit doesn’t send our suspects into a rage,” my father remarked as he inspected me again, “I don’t know what will.”

  “Well then, gentlemen.” I reached for my purse. “Let’s go get ’em.”

  Chapter 21

  The limo pulled up in front of a gray two-story cottage on the corner of Dumaine and Royal streets. On both sides of the front door were old-fashioned gas lanterns and two thick wood shutters painted a deep forest green. Every residence in the quarter had such shutters on the doors and windows at street level, harkening back to the days when New Orleans had been a very dangerous place to live.

  A short, gray-haired man dressed in costume from the era when the house had been built came up to the limousine and opened the door.

  “Welcome,” the gentleman said. He then stepped aside and waved us onward to the entrance.

  Inside, the residence was furnished in rich mahogany and red velvet Napoleonic furniture with deep plush Persian carpets over well-worn oak hardwood floors. Above, twenty-foot ceilings with intricate plaster detail of grape vines and the Roman god Bacchus looked down over the guests. Standing about the living room were white marble statues that I recognized from Val’s place on the lake. At least she was able to salvage some things from the wreckage of the storm.

  Formally dressed members of the city’s elite were scattered about while black-tie waiters and waitresses carried silver trays filled with Baccarat crystal flutes brimming with champagne. There was even a string quartet in the corner of the room playing softly in the background.

  “There y’all are,” the vibrant voice called to us from the back of the room.

  Val came forward wearing a bright red velvet dress with gold brocade woven around a plunging neckline.

  “Val, you look amazing,” my father stated, kissing her cheek.

  Uncle Lance laughed as he inspected Val’s dress. “You look like a red velvet cake.”

  “I can always count on you, Lance, for comic relief.” Val kissed his cheek then she turned to me. “Holy crap!” she shouted when her eyes beheld my necklace. “Lord have mercy, Nicci, a person could go blind looking at that thing.”

  I blushed and raised my hands to gently caress the diamonds and emeralds. “A gift,” I explained.

  Val placed her hands on her hips. “From whom?”

  “Me, Val,” Dallas said, and then kissed her cheek. “I thought she needed to look radiant tonight.”

  “Dearie, that girl is putting out enough wattage to light the entire city of New Orleans,” Val declared, pointing t
o me.

  Dallas smiled, looking pleased. “Why don’t you show us to the bar, eh?”

  Val gave me one last worried glance and then said, “They’re next to the buffet tables out in the courtyard.”

  We followed her through a small sitting area behind the living room and out a pair of French doors to an expansive red brick courtyard.

  Along the edge of the courtyard were gardens filled with assorted green shrubs and some blooming poinsettias. There were three white linen tables with silver chafing dishes along the back wall, and on each side of the entrance was a bar. Bartenders, in uniforms similar to the doorman’s, waited patiently behind the bar for drink orders.

  The second-floor porches above the courtyard were draped with white lights, vying with the stars up in the heavens for attention. People were milling about the buffet service or sitting around many of the small black wrought-iron tables set up throughout the area.

  “Get something to eat and drink,” Val instructed, waving her hand about the courtyard, “and enjoy the party.”

  My father, Uncle Lance, and Dallas started toward the bar. As I was about to walk away with them, Val grabbed my arm.

  “He gave you that!” she all but shouted in my ear.

  I turned to her and tried to smile. Suddenly the prospect of lying to the woman who had supported me in every endeavor, made my stomach churn. I felt as if I had become part of the devious society I had struggled all my life to rise above.

  “Dallas surprised me with it today,” I said, avoiding her inquisitive stare.

  “Nicci, men do not give pieces of jewelry like that to a woman unless they are real serious or really, really stupid.”

  I shook my head while trying to come up with something plausible to tell Val. I knew I could not deceive her but, on the other hand, I had to protect Dallas and our cover. “It just recently got serious between us, Val. It’s all been happening so fast I haven’t been able to tell anyone.”

  Her eyes seemed to fill with a fiery glow. “How serious? Because just two weeks ago you were telling me you weren’t sure what this man meant to you.”

 

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