The Nicci Beauvoir Collection: The Complete Nicci Beauvoir Series

by Alexandrea Weis

  I jogged into the courtyard and took in a few deep breaths. I listened to the normalcy of the world outside and was suddenly envious of the people living beyond the garden walls. All my life I had fought to be the exception to the rule, and now all I wanted was to blend in with everyone else. The prospect of a mundane existence filled with surmountable obstacles and trivial annoyances seemed an unattainable dream for me. As we read books and magazines about exotic destinations and breathtaking stories of intrigue, we yearn for such adventure and excitement in our lives. However, living in the midst of such turmoil is far from fulfilling. Like most of life’s little ironies, it’s the tedious existence that garners the greater rewards. Fantasy, unlike reality, reads better than it lives.

  “You’re angry,” Uncle Lance declared. “You always want to be alone when you’re really pissed off.”

  I caught sight of my uncle standing with the rays of the midday sun hovering about his head like an undeserved halo. He was frowning at me, but I could tell he found more humor in the situation than gravity. His green eyes were filled with their usual mischief.

  I folded my arms across my chest. “You know how much I hate it when other people plan my life for me.”

  “Everything that we have planned is to protect you. Dallas and David are risking their lives for you, kid.”

  “I know that, Uncle Lance. Maybe the three of you could have talked to me about what I want to do.”

  “We know you well enough to be sure of what you would want to do. That’s why we didn’t bother to ask you, Nicci.”

  I turned from my uncle. “I finally have a hold of what I want in my life and then everyone goes behind my back and plots to take it away from me.” I marched over to the black wrought iron table and plopped down in a chair.

  Uncle Lance slowly came up to the table. “I know how you feel, kid. Until this situation is over, you’re gonna have to try and play along. You just make it harder on everyone when you argue over every detail.” He pulled out a chair next to mine.

  I directed my eyes to the garden beds beside us and watched as bright rays of sunlight highlighted the blooming red and white azaleas planted there. “Do you think this will ever be over, Uncle Lance?”

  He took a seat in his chair. “It will end one day. David and Dallas will make it end.”

  I looked my uncle in the eye. “Which one of them do you think I will lose in the process?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe neither of them, maybe both of them. No matter what happens, you must accept the fact that this is what they want for you.”

  “If I lose either one of them how I will be able to go on? Because no matter the outcome, Uncle Lance, my life will never be the same.”

  “No, but you will have a life, Nicci. That is all that matters to David and Dallas.”

  I stood from my chair and shook my head. “I can’t go back in there and face them right now.”

  Uncle Lance stood up next to me. “I’m sorry all of this hasn’t quite turned out as you expected.”

  I gave him a questioning glance. “What did you think I was expecting?”

  “What we all hope for in the end. Your happily ever after. Unfortunately, Nicci, you will learn that happiness comes with a lot of strings attached to it.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “Why don’t you stay out here and cool off for a little while.” He patted my shoulder.

  “Thank you, Uncle Lance.”

  He strutted across the courtyard toward the house.

  After I heard the back door close, I cast my eyes to the alley that led to the street gate. The wrought iron bars on the gate made me feel as if I were a prisoner serving a self-imposed life sentence. The reality of David’s return had not lived up to my fantasy laden expectations, and I felt more hopelessness than hope about our future together. As I stared at the gate, I toyed with the idea of leaving the confines of the patio and walking among the tourists in the French Quarter. Beyond that cloistered courtyard there was a world filled with regular people, and I longed to be a part of their average lives. My nervous restlessness over the coming evening with Greg Caston only fueled my desire to get away. Overwhelmed by the thought of all the lies and deceptions that lay ahead, I suddenly felt driven to feel normal again. Pushing my common sense to the back of my mind, I headed for the gate. A short stroll around the block to clear my head, I reasoned, and then I would come back and face David and Dallas.

  Out on the open street my, spirits immediately improved. I felt in control again. As I confidently sauntered down the sidewalk, I spotted a few street performers gathered at a nearby corner. A small crowd of people were listening to the sounds of the trio of musicians performing a familiar Jazz tune on a guitar, fiddle, and flute. I approached the crowd and a sense of normalcy settled over me. I was just like everyone around me; a simple tourist enjoying all that this fair city had to offer.

  I stood in the back of the small group of people and happily lost myself in the solace of the moment. I was tapping my feet in time with the music when a familiar high-pitched voice caught my ear.

  “Hello, my dear Nicci.”

  I spun around. Simon La Roy was standing next to me.

  My blood turned to ice.

  Simon was impatiently tapping his silver handled cane on the ground with his left hand. I noticed his right hand was concealing something beneath his white suit jacket.

  His dark eyes glared at me. “Please refrain from any cries for help.” He tucked the cane under his arm and opened the front of his jacket.

  In Simon’s right hand was a .38 caliber revolver. He nudged the gun closer to my side.

  He closed his jacket, keeping the gun hidden from view. “I was hoping for David to emerge from your little sanctuary, but you will do. Now I suggest you come with me. I want no sudden moves. Just walk calmly and slowly away with me.”

  “Where are we going, Simon?”

  He gave me an evil smile, and whispered, “Someplace where no one can find you.”

  ***

  Half an hour later, I was kneeling on the cold cement floor of an abandoned house not far from the French Quarter. Simon had tied my hands to some exposed pipes in the wall behind me. The empty house had been damaged by Katrina and not yet gutted. The black water line from the floodwaters that had inundated the city was still visible on the wall around me. The air was heavy with humidity and the smell of decay. I tried to breathe through my mouth to avoid the sickening odor. Black mold covered the walls and ceiling while dirt and debris ran in irregular patterns along the floor. The warped sheetrock had started pulling away from the studs beneath, leaving electrical wiring and water pipes exposed. And on the floor in the corner of the room, lay an old blue tarpaulin. It was the same kind of tarpaulin that had been used after Katrina to cover damaged roofs. On top of the thick piece of plastic, I spied a small gray jacket and an oversized black purse. I could not quite make out what was hidden beneath the blue plastic, but something inside of me knew whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

  “It’s not the Royal Orleans, but it will do for now,” Simon announced. He placed his revolver on the floor next to his cane and wiped off a dusty plastic chair in front of me. “There are thousands of such homes to choose from in this city, making it an almost certainty that we will never be found.” He took a seat in his chair.

  I tried to subdue the chilling sensation of fear rising up in the back of my throat. “I will be missed, Simon. My family will be looking for me. I have an appointment this evening. If I don’t show up, people will wonder what happened to me.”

  “I already know about your little meeting with Gregory. I know Dallas August will be there as well. Imagine my surprise to learn that my best former specialist was in town and not back in Connecticut as I had been informed. He always was a clever fellow.”

  “How did you know about my meeting with Greg?”

  “The same way I know about all of Gregory’s comings and goings. I have had someone on the inside feeding me informat
ion about his organization for years. He tried to do the same thing to me once, but his specialist was quite inept.” Simon paused as his beady, little eyes inspected me. “You are going to keep your meeting with dear Gregory tonight, but there will be one more addition to our little get together. You are going to call David and tell him to join us,” he ordered in a dark tone.

  “Why? Why are you doing this?” I pulled against the exposed pipes behind me.

  “To clean up the mess created by you and your pretty face.” He picked up the gun from the floor and pointed it at me. “From the day David came down here and first saw you, I have had nothing but trouble. I could not allow him to just walk away from me, not after everything I had done for him. So I planned to get him back. Then your silly Michael Fagles stepped in, ruining my plans. I had to act quickly and rearrange so much to get David back on his feet. It took ages to make him useful to me once again and then…he disappeared.” Leaving his cane on the floor, Simon easily got up from the chair and walked over to the blue tarpaulin.

  “So you’re not as disabled as you portray,” I called behind him.

  He turned and saw me nodding to his cane. “I told you before; I’m an actor, Nicci. Where would an actor be without his props?” He grasped the plastic sheet and began to slowly pull it back.

  As the hidden object beneath the blue plastic covering was revealed, I felt my stomach heave upward.

  “Oh, my God.”

  Lying face up on the floor, with her lifeless eyes open, was Jenny Ryan. She was wearing a blue dress shirt, gray slacks, and black heels. Her skin was pasty white and a single gunshot wound to her left temple was still oozing blood. As I comprehended the senseless act that had been committed, a wave of nausea overtook me. And then I felt a sudden overpowering sense of panic take hold. If Simon La Roy could kill an innocent girl without remorse, what in the hell was he going to do to me?

  “What have you done?” I turned away from the dead girl’s body. “Why kill her, Simon? She’s done nothing to you.”

  “She is part of my plan for you. It was terribly easy. I met her at the gallery where she worked, filled her with a few drinks, and brought her here.” He looked back down at Jenny Ryan’s body. “She could pass for you. Yes, a few days in a watery grave and I will have a corpse thought to be the missing Nicole Beauvoir.”

  I felt my gut tighten. “Missing? What are you going to do, Simon?”

  He turned from me and lowered the revolver to his side. “I came to New Orleans because I knew David was here. When he ran away from me a few weeks ago, I realized his desire for you would bring him back to this city. All I had to do was keep an eye on you and, sooner or later, he would appear. I had Gerard follow you to George Elliot’s place and I instructed him to bring David to me. Unfortunately, David killed Gerard. So, I had to figure out another way to get my dear boy back. Enter Ms. Ryan.” He smiled down at the lifeless woman. “I didn’t realize until I saw her at Greg’s party how much she looked like you. I thought it a pity I could not substitute her for you. Then that is precisely what I decided to do.” He sat back down in his chair. “When I was at that benefit the other night, waiting for you to arrive, I met the most interesting man. He worked for the Coroner’s Office in New Orleans. He told me how the backlog of bodies left over from Katrina, along with the high number of murders still plaguing the city, was making it impossible for their office to keep up. My clandestine meeting with that informative fellow, combined with the extraordinary resemblance between you and Ms. Ryan, gave me an idea.” He paused and smiled at me. “When we go to Gregory’s tonight I will finally put an end to our tiresome squabbling. I will kill Gregory and make it look as if you two had a lover’s quarrel. After Jenny Ryan’s body is found in the Mississippi River, with your identification and the murder weapon, everyone will assume that you killed Gregory and then walked over to the river and committed suicide.”

  “My family will never believe that. They will know Jenny Ryan is not me.”

  “Perhaps, but with the high suicide rate in this city, combined with your recent trip to a psychologist, the police may not be so easily convinced. Even if they do pursue further testing on the body, it could take months. Between the limited funds for DNA analysis and the loss of dental records from dentists’ offices throughout the city, it could be quite a while before anyone realizes the body is not yours. By then, you will be long gone.

  “What are you going to do with me?”

  Simon tossed his head playfully to the side. “You will assume Ms. Ryan’s identity for our trip back to New York. Your famous face would have made creating a new identity for you rather difficult. Thanks to Ms. Ryan, I can easily get you out of New Orleans and no one will ever be the wiser.”

  “Why are you doing all of this, Simon?”

  “To get my boy back, of course. He will come to me when he finds out I have you safely under lock and key. He will have no choice but to return to New York with us. He will do whatever I desire in order to keep you alive.”

  “Don’t you think you have already done enough to David? Why can’t you just leave him alone?”

  “Because he is mine! I made him. I educated him. Everything that he is, I created. He is my masterpiece and I will not just give him up to some silly girl. I did everything for him a father would do. Then you took him away from me. I had to get David back. Without him my organization has suffered. I cannot have my name sullied because of an infantile obsession.” His little brown eyes were smoldering with hatred “You took my two best operatives right out from under my nose. People started talking about you like you were some kind of enchantress.” His face calmed a little. “I have spent many a night thinking about how I would execute my retribution. First, I will take your beauty, and then that stubborn will of yours, and when I have finally tired of you, I will take your life.”

  “No matter what you do to me, David will never come back to you. He hates you. He has always hated you, Simon. You didn’t educate or create him. You only lied to him and manipulated him to improve your bottom line.” I shook my head and grinned. “David was right about you. You’re nothing more than a pimp.”

  “Watch your mouth, girl!” Simon warned in a menacing tone. He grasped the gun firmly in his hand. “Before I am done with you, I promise you will be begging for me to kill you.”

  I curled my fists. I felt my heart pounding. I was enraged, and at the same time terrified, but I knew I could never let Simon see my fear. “You’ll never see me beg, Simon. You’re a bad Broadway actor who tried to better himself by stealing the achievements of others. You give yourself such airs. You think you’re better than everyone else. You’re nothing more than a common thug in a tailored suit.”

  He got up from his chair and came toward me. “I am better than all the rest, Nicci, because in the end, I always will win.” He laughed as he stood before me. “You are quite a little fireball. It is a shame you cannot join my organization. What a specialist you would have made.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “Now we will make this short and to the point. I will have you on speaker so do not try and do anything devious. Tell David I have you and only he is to meet us tonight at Gregory’s.” He pressed a few buttons on his phone and then held it out in front of me.

  I stared at the black cell phone, wanting to avoid Simon’s rat-like eyes.

  Simon placed the muzzle of his revolver against my temple. “Do as I say, Nicci. Otherwise, there will be consequences.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  With my hands tied in front of me, and covered by Jenny Ryan’s gray jacket, Simon and I progressed from the front entrance of the gallery to the rear door that led to Greg Caston’s residence. Simon leaned on his cane with his right hand as we moved down the walkway. He kept the revolver in his left hand hidden behind Jenny Ryan’s oversized black purse that he had strategically placed over my shoulder.

  “Play this casual and easy, Nicci. Don’t do anything to attract suspicion or I will shoot
you,” he warned and shoved the tip of his gun into my side.

  The entire building seemed quiet. There were lights shining from Greg’s penthouse above the gallery floors. As we made the turn to head up to the rear entrance to Greg’s apartment, Cleveland stepped out in front of us.

  My body froze when I saw the large security guard hovering before me.

  Cleveland smiled at me. “Good evenin’. Ms. Beauvoir. Mr. Caston is expectin’ you.”

  The security guard’s brown eyes inspected Simon. “Hello, Cleveland.” I turned to Simon. “This is Mr. August. I told Mr. Caston that he would be joining us this evening. There is another gentleman expected to join us shortly. A Mr. Al—” Simon jabbed me with the gun. “Excuse me, a Mr. Goldvarg. Could you please show him up, Cleveland?”

  Cleveland nodded. “Of course, Ms. Beauvoir.” Cleveland gave Simon a thorough going over with his eyes. “Mr. August.” He paused and then a smile crept slowly across his face. He stepped aside and opened the heavy glass door for us. “Then y’all have a nice night.”

  We walked through the entrance and headed down the short corridor to the elevator doors.

  “Very good, my dear,” Simon whispered. “You handled that well. You even recovered nicely from your little error.”

  “Having a gun jammed into my ribs helps.”

  At the silver elevator doors, Simon pressed the call light. “Just keep playing along, Nicci, and when we get upstairs don’t do anything foolish. I have the gun, and I can use it on David just as easily as I can use it on you.”

  “Then you wouldn’t have David.”

  The elevator doors opened and we stepped inside.

  “I would have you, Nicci. With David, or without, I will still make you pay for what you have cost me.”

  Simon pressed the P button on the console and I shivered as the car started to ascend. We rode up in the elevator, and I pondered the possibilities waiting for me. I tried to think of some way I could warn Greg when we entered his apartment. But with the end of Simon’s gun so close to my side, I feared any unexpected movement would be enough to make the man pull the trigger. I decided, once we arrived at Greg’s residence, I had no choice but to do as Simon instructed and wait for David to arrive.