“There’s a table.” He led her to it as a waitress appeared.
“Two shrimp po’boys, and a side order of hush puppies. And two mint iced teas.”
“You got it.”
“How did you know exactly what I wanted?”
He laid a hand over hers. “You just look like a shrimp and hush puppy kinda gal. I guess great minds think—and eat—alike.”
They talked over their sandwiches, which came with slender, salted fries and creamy coleslaw. She found out a little about his playing days and even shared a few stories of the backstage soap opera behind Sumner Falls. Before she realized it, the restaurant had almost emptied, the lunch rush over. She’d lost all track of time as they spoke.
Nick paid the bill, and they stepped from the cool air conditioning back into the steamy heat of New Orleans. Callie took in all the street vendors lining Jackson Square, hawking their wares or performing for loose change.
Nick pointed to one of them. “Hey, see that lady with the pink fedora? She’s really good. She did a drawing of Elvis, Eric, and me once years ago.”
He dragged her over to one of the sidewalk artists lining the square. Example caricatures of her work were displayed under the shade of a tree.
“Afternoon, ma’am. We’d like to get our portrait done. In color,” he added.
The woman, whom Callie thought looked like a gypsy with her dark coloring and multicolored blouse, nodded.
“Sit there,” she indicated. “And no talk. Fifteen minutes.”
Callie sat, and Nick moved next to her. His arm went around her waist, pulling her close. She stared off across the square at the statue of Jackson perched upon his war steed.
Could life get any better than this? Despite her present troubles, contentment poured through her. Serenity blanketed her, as real as Nick’s arm about her.
“Is finished. Is good,” the artist proclaimed.
Callie came out of her reverie. How long had she been daydreaming? She peered at the sketch and smiled. The artist portrayed her as dreamy and delicate. Nick was strong and grinning from ear to ear. Tiny hearts had been drawn about them in the air. The cartooned couple looked totally in love.
“Thank you,” Nick told the woman, pressing a bill into her hand. She tucked it down her blouse and rolled up the paper, handing it to him.
“We’ll come back,” he promised.
They strolled down toward the market when Nick spotted a carriage.
“Come on. It’ll be fun. I’ve never done anything touristy like this before.” He spoke to the driver briefly and handed her up before he climbed in after her.
He threw an arm around her shoulders. “We’re off to see the Garden District.”
“Oh, I love it there. Every house has its own distinct beauty.”
“And its own story,” he added. “Maybe I’ll be inspired to start something new.”
She rested her hand on his thigh. “Well, it worked for Anne Rice. And she didn’t do too shabbily.”
He shuddered. “Her stuff creeps me out. Vampires always scared the hell out of me. I used to sleep with the covers tucked behind my neck when I was a kid because Elvis swore they’d come visit me in the night. Every morning I’d run over to the mirror and check my throat to make sure no bloodsucker had stopped by for a midnight snack of Nick.”
She snorted. “I think Lestat is romantic and charming. Even if he is a little egotistical sometimes. Besides, Rice’s descriptions are wonderful. I’d love to have the chance to play a character that complex.”
She put her head on his shoulder as the driver guided the horses over to St. Charles. They spent a good two hours in the Garden District, pointing out the houses they liked and making up stories about the various owners. It pleased her to see they had similar tastes, from their love of wraparound porches to grand old cypress trees.
“Would you like to live along here?” Nick asked.
Callie considered it. “It would be nice, but I prefer a smaller place. After living in New York all these years, I think I’d enjoy a less hectic pace. NOLA has too many people, including too many tourists. I really cherish my privacy.”
“Me, too.” Nick brushed his lips against hers, and Callie surrendered to the moment.
They disembarked where they’d started from, and he insisted they stop at Café du Monde.
“How can you be a block from the best beignets in the world and not succumb?” he asked her.
She agreed, despite the fact that she was still full from lunch, and they joined the line waiting to grab a table. Nick maneuvered her around several people, and they snagged a table just as a couple was leaving. They ordered café au laits and two plates of beignets, which appeared nearly as soon as they spoke.
“I used to love coming here every summer,” he revealed. “It was one of the places Aunt Olivia would bring Mom and me. I thought these were the best donuts in the world. And the best hot chocolate. No matter what the temperature, I had to have my hot chocolate.”
“So how long did you stay?”
He shrugged. “Usually a month. Mom would come the entire time, too. We always had a blast.”
“Are you an only child?”
“Yep.” He bit into his last bite of beignet and moaned. Callie leaned over with a napkin and wiped his powdered sugar mustache away.
“She missed living here. She and Aunt Olivia were thick as thieves. Still are.”
“So where does your mom live?”
He sipped his coffee. “With Olivia now. About five years ago, she retired and left East Texas for good. She always wanted to come back to Aurora. Aunt O was already a widow, and they’ve been living together ever since, causing trouble.”
“Do you miss your dad?” she asked quietly. She thought of the angry shouts and slaps she’d grown up with and how grateful she was when her father was no longer around.
“Sometimes. He was a traveling salesman. Gone from home a lot. Mostly, it was Mom and me. She actually taught me how to pitch. She’d been an ace pitcher in softball growing up. She’s the one that got me interested in the game.”
He laughed. “She never would let me play football. One of those mamas that didn’t want to see her boy tackled to shreds. I sure took shit from the guys for not being allowed to play football. In Texas, it’s sacrosanct.”
Nick eyed her remaining beignet. “Are you going to finish that?”
“No. I’m full. Especially after all those buttered hush puppies.”
He switched plates with her and tore off a bite. “Still, I played basketball in the winter. Baseball spring and summer and fall ball when I got older. I didn’t miss out on too much. My dad didn’t see many games, though. He spent most of his time gone on the road. It was always business with him. Not much left over for Mom or me.”
She rested her hand atop his. “I guess we both fell a little short in the dad department. I supposed our other relatives made up for it, though.
“My mom died when I was twelve. Breast cancer. She was sick for a long time before that. After she passed, Aunt C and Essie were all the family I had.”
Nick washed down his last bite. “I’m lucky. I still have Mom and all my cousins. That’s why I came back to Aurora. I . . . needed to be around family. I finally figured out that’s what’s most important.” He gave her a heated glance.
“Oh, Mom’s gonna cut off my nuts and deep fry them,” he suddenly proclaimed.
“What?” She laughed. “That sure came from left field.”
He ran his hands through his thick, dark hair. “Way out from left field. But she and Aunt O got back from their trip to Branson last night. They go every year around this time. I forgot to call and check on her.”
“Well, you can explain a lot was going on last night.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Eric’s probably brought them up to speed.” He stood. “Come on. We need to head home. We’ll drop in on Mom and let you two ladies get acquainted.”
He flashed a wicked smile. “I might be able to stay out of the doghouse by presenting her with my fiancée.”
She swallowed. “That sounds . . . serious.”
Nick gave her a quick kiss. “I am serious, honey. I’m just sorry I don’t have a ring on that finger yet to let the male population know it’s hands off.”
“Things have happened pretty fast.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss into her palm. “You look tired, else I’d say let’s go ring shopping right now.”
Her emotions threatened to overwhelm her, so she told him, “I am a little tired. This has been a pretty full day. I haven’t even taken my afternoon nap!”
“Then let’s go home. I’ll call Mom and tell her we’re coming over tomorrow instead. Do you think you can walk back to the car?”
“I’m fine. If I get tired, you can carry me.”
Nick swept her off her feet in a single move. “Good thing you’re light.”
“Nick La Chappelle, put me down,” she ordered.
He kept walking.
Her face felt on fire. “Oh, this is embarrassing. Please, please, put me down.”
He stopped. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She ducked her head down, hating the attention they were drawing.
He set her on the sidewalk and got down on one knee, taking both of her hands in his.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
Nick grinned shamelessly. “Crazy for you. Now be quiet. I want to make this official. I know I told you I loved you and wanted to spend the rest of my life with you—but I never really asked you to marry me.”
Callie sensed the crowd gathering around them. Her cheeks burned bright red. “Nick!”
“Callie, I love you more than sleeping late on a rainy Saturday. I love you more than jambalaya or pecan pralines. I love you more than pitching a no-hitter in the seventh game of the World Series.
I love you and want us to spend every minute of every day together till we’re too old to remember each other’s names. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She couldn’t help but laugh at his outrageously romantic proposal. “Yes, yes, yes. I will marry you and sleep late with you and feed you pecan pralines and even watch the Series with you. Now will you get up?”
Nick rose and pulled her into his arms for a searing kiss. Vaguely, she heard applause surrounding them. When he finally pulled his mouth from hers, Callie realized not only had the crowd’s numbers swelled, but several people were shooting videos and taking pictures with their smart phones. Everyone around them wore a smile.
Nick took her hand in his and waved to the crowd. “Gotta go, folks. We need to talk about rings and babies and all kinds of important things.” He took her hand and pulled her through those gathered, hurrying her down the street.
“Stop,” she ordered after they’d passed two blocks. “I’m totally out of breath.”
“Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “You’re just so cute when you blush.”
She shook her head. “What have I gotten myself into?”
He whispered in her ear. “I can’t wait to get myself into you.”
He grabbed her hand again and walked her down a few more blocks and around the corner to the car. Her face burned at his racy comment. She would pull on her sunglasses the minute they got into the convertible. She wished she hadn’t left them on the dashboard in the first place.
When they reached the car, Nick groaned. “Not a ticket. Come on, I’m parked fine. There’s no meter.” He lifted the windshield wiper and froze.
“What’s wrong?” She noticed a blank envelope resting on the glass. The pit of her stomach grew icy.
“Get in,” he ordered, unlocking the car and practically shoving her inside. He locked her door and slammed it before walking around to retrieve the envelope. He opened his own door and got in, locking it the minute it shut.
Silence weighed heavily inside the car. Callie bit her lip. The wonderful, beautiful, romantic day faded as she stared at the envelope in his hands.
“It could be anything,” he said, trying to convince them both. “An advertisement. A coupon.”
“It’s not. Just open it.”
As before, the envelope wasn’t sealed. Nick and Eric had discussed that no trace of DNA would be left that way. Since the previous note hadn’t had any fingerprints on it, she assumed this one wouldn’t either. She watched him pull out the folded slip of paper and open it, turning it around since it was upside down.
She watched as he read it, his eyes going dark as the color drained from his face. He refolded it and started to put it back in the envelope.
“I want to read it.”
“No. It’s just more crap. I’ll give it to Eric.”
Callie wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “We’re in this together. Please. I need to see it.”
Reluctantly, he handed it over. With shaking hands, she unfolded it.
Nick—
Hope you are having fun today. Because it could be your last.
Lipstick Larry
P.S. Believe it or not, I actually want you dead more than her.
Chapter 24
Cars packed the drive at Noble Oaks as Nick and Callie returned. He’d called Eric as he’d raced out of the city, relating what they’d found. Eric told him Detective Waggoner had arrived from New York and would be among those waiting when they reached Aurora.
He took in Callie as he swung into the driveway. She appeared so fragile in the leather bucket seat, her arms wrapped around her protectively. Her eyes stared dully, straight ahead.
“It’s not your fault,” he told her for the third time.
She quickly turned and shot daggers at him. “Of course it is. He wants me! He’s mad because he’s seen you with me. Oh, God, when I think how stupid we were to parade our feelings in front of the entire French Quarter. He was watching us, Nick. He probably had his camera out, snapping pictures of our proposal. We’ve inflamed him. The entire situation has gotten out of hand. I’m not going to risk your life, Nick. This is between him and me.”
He pulled the key out of the ignition and glared at her. “So what exactly does that mean, Callie? You’re just cutting me loose?”
“Yes.” Her harsh tone belied the frightened look in her eyes.
“What happened to love? Seeing each other through thick and thin?”
“I believe you’re talking about the wedding vows, and that’s through sickness and in health, for better or worse, till death us do part.” She unfastened her seat belt and tossed him a glance. “Well, we aren’t married, and we haven’t proclaimed any public vows or made any promises. So I declare this relationship officially over before it’s even begun. That way this raving lunatic won’t see the need to let death part us.”
She threw open her door and eased out. Nick jumped out and went around to her side of the car. One look told him how physically and emotionally depleted she was.
But she would hear him out.
He gently took her arm. “Listen. You are not going to fight this guy alone. I love you. I don’t care if the world knows—let alone this douche bag. We’re in this together, Callie, united we stand. I’m not going to run out on you at the first sign of trouble.”
She tugged, trying to get away from him, but he held on firmly. Finally, she stopped struggling. She raised tear-filled eyes to his.
“Don’t you see it’s because I love you that I’m not willing to sacrifice you? I don’t want to see you killed. If you’re not involved with me, he won’t see yo
u as a threat. He’ll leave you alone. I won’t let him hurt you. I couldn’t save Wolf. But I can try to save you.”
Nick pulled her to him, enfolding her in his arms. He felt the tremors run through her as she sobbed.
“Baby, I won’t walk away from you,” he whispered in her ear. “If I can’t be with you, I might as well be dead.”
Callie looked up at him, biting her lips.
“Other than getting this stupid note, I just had the best damn day of my entire thirty-five years,” he told her. “I’m not going to let some psycho come between us. I don’t have to say the public vows or have the piece of paper to know there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. I will stand by you, and I’ll tell you, hon—when this is all over—it’ll be the two of us left. Together. Stalker, be damned.”
She collapsed against him, her fingers bunching his shirt tightly. Nick stroked her hair. He looked up and saw Eric, Gretchen, and a man he assumed was the New York cop.
“Come inside,” Eric ordered quietly.
Callie pulled away from him. She spotted the cop and ran to him, throwing her arms around him. A pang of jealousy pulled at Nick, despite the fact that the man was old enough to be her father.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Waggoner,” Callie said. “This has turned into a nightmare.” She glanced over and gestured for him to come. He walked up to where they stood.
“This is Nick.” She took a deep breath. “My . . . fiancé.”
Nothing else she could’ve said would have made him prouder. He realized in that moment that she had committed to him. He thrust a hand out.
“Sorry to meet you under such circumstances, Detective.”
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