She’d put the last one on the shelf when she felt Nick’s presence beside her.
“How long have you been collecting?”
She lifted a chalice from the shelf. “All my life. This one was the first. I don’t remember when I got it. I’ve had it forever.”
He took it from her hand and held it in front of the window. “This thing is heavy. It’s kind of pretty. And kind of ugly. Kind of both.”
She smothered a smile. His analysis was kind of deep for a cop.
“The combination of heavy silver and delicate crystal. Dark and light. Soft and hard. They’re all beautiful in a dark sort of way. I don’t know… They speak to me.”
“Speak to you?”
“I don’t mean with words. I mean they speak to my soul. I think we all have dark places and light places.”
“It takes a brave and perceptive person to dig into their soul and see both the light and the dark.”
“That’s kind of deep.”
“For a cop?”
Yeah, well, she didn’t want to discuss her opinion of cops and their strange psyches. In some ways, Nick was just like her father. In other ways, really important ways, he was nothing like Lance Bowman. Wait. Hadn’t she already covered this mental territory? It was a bad idea to compare Nick to her father.
Jeri nudged her favorite vial. “Can’t you imagine a witch filling this one with a magic potion?”
He laughed uncomfortably. “Don’t tell me you believe in witches.”
She shrugged. “Believe in witches? Some people are practicing witches. But that’s not my thing.”
“What is your thing, Jeri?”
“My thing? I don’t know how to describe my thing. I collect…complications. I don’t like things that are oversimplified. A thing is more interesting when you have to take the time to unravel it. I like my collection because it’s…”
“Complicated?”
She laughed and nodded. “Yeah. I like things to be just a little…more. I’m bored with shallow and expected and ordinary and normal…”
Nick chuckled. “Well, you’re not boring, Jeri, that’s for sure.”
Her heart stopped for a split second. “Neither are you.”
Never in a million years would she have ever thought she’d say such a thing to Nick Moreau.
“So you think I’m complicated?” His eyes flashed with a tease.
“Very.”
He set the chalice on the shelf. “Oh, I don’t think I’m all that complicated.”
“You have a layered personality.”
He indicated another piece. “So where did this one come from?”
Okay, so he didn’t want to get too personal. Moving on.
“I found that one in a flea market.” She pointed at a detail. “I call it the dragon’s nest. See the dragons circling the tower? It has a different theme, but the feel of it fits with the rest.”
Most of them had roses or angels or crosses or flaming swords, but not the dragon’s nest. The dragons were etched onto the crystal whereas the other pieces had the artwork carved into the silver.
“And this one?”
She caught her breath and released it slowly. “My best friend Chloe found that one in a shop in Paris.”
It had been her least favorite because Jeri had gotten the idea that it had been mass-produced and perhaps wasn’t antique. But Chloe had given it to her, so she had treasured it. Now, Chloe was gone from her forever.
She pushed down the sorrow that thoughts of Chloe always brought her.
“Yeah, I can see why you’d want to keep the piece that Deville gave you. It fits right in with the rest.” He stepped away from the shelving. “So if you’re all settled in, I need to get back to the station.”
She looked away, anywhere but at his face. “Sure. I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
Still looking away. “I always get kind of weepy when I think about Chloe. She died in a car wreck right after our senior year at Vandy.”
“That’s rough to lose someone close to you like that.”
She finally turned to face him again. “Have you ever lost someone?”
His eyes clouded with a faraway look. It was clear that whatever had saddened him was an off-limits subject. “I…um…don’t want to talk about that.”
Jeri shifted, suddenly needing to put a few feet of distance between them. “I get it. Too personal. For a minute, I forgot you were a cop, and I was a suspect.”
He laughed, showing his discomfort again. “I never said you were a suspect.”
Sure, he’d denied that before.
“But I’m not a friend, so a friendly conversation where people get to know one another isn’t cool. Okay, I understand. You ask me personal stuff because you’re building some sort of profile on me. Not because you want to know anything about me. Nothing personal. Right? You’re doing your job.”
Damn, she hadn’t meant to sound like his refusal to tell her anything personal about himself had hurt her. But it had. His reluctance had peeled back an old scab and reopened an old wound. She so hated one-sided relationships.
Stop it, Jeri. Stop thinking like that. This isn’t a relationship.
He stared at her with a weird glow in his eyes. What was he expecting her to say?
“Once this is over, you’ll go on with your life, and I won’t be in it. It will be less painful for both of us if we don’t get personal.” His husky voice betrayed the emotion behind his words.
She couldn’t quite read the expression on his face, but that was no surprise. She had noticed Nick tried very hard to be a blank canvas when conversations became difficult. He didn’t always succeed. A glimmer of something overwhelmingly personal flashed in his eyes. Was she reading him wrong? He was saying one thing, but his eyes were telling her something entirely different.
When he finally spoke again, his comment wasn’t what she expected. “I wish… I wish we had met in other circumstances. But this… This is… Not happening.”
The wistfulness in his voice told her that this wasn’t the first time he’d thought about getting personal with her.
He seemed to shake off the melancholy mood. “Anyway, when I get off tonight, I’ll come by and check on you.”
She glanced around the apartment. It was late in the day, the time of day she usually woke up and got ready to go to work. She felt the edginess of sleep deprivation creeping across her nervous system.
“You don’t have to. I might be asleep.”
“I’ll be extra quiet when I come back…just in case you’ve managed to fall asleep.”
Jeri nodded. She had no other words. The easy way they’d had with each other when they were talking about her collection had disappeared. They had gone back to being strangers forced into a strange association by circumstances beyond their control.
In a few short minutes, he was out the door. Well, she had news for Nick Moreau. She wasn’t ready yet to give up her job at the bar. Who else knew that Olivia Hammond wasn’t her real name? Was Nick going to arrest her for identity theft or fraudulently acquiring a license to sell alcohol? Obviously not.
When she left her new home, she would be extra observant, just in case the photographer was following her. She’d have to take a cab to get to work anyway. Let the bastard try and keep up with one of New Orleans’s cabbies.
Nick could act like he was her protector all he wanted, but she didn’t need his sort of protection. That kind of protection always came with strings attached. Besides, she’d been taking care of herself for a long time.
****
Around midnight, a trio of women stumbled into the bar. It was obvious to Jeri that Johnny J’s was not their first stop. The alpha female seemed to be trying to manipulate the other women, and one of the other women was having none of it. Alpha ordered her and her friends a Long Island Iced Tea. Jeri smirked as soon as her back was turned to them.
“I ain’t paying for that. I told you I didn’t want it.” The
rebellious one of three seemed a bit more sloshed than the other two, but at least, she had a better idea of what her limits were…maybe.
Would Jeri have to call them a cab or confiscate their keys? It happened sometimes.
Jeri rolled her eyes so that Herb caught her sarcastic attitude toward the trio. He smirked and turned his attention back to the open door. It was a hot night, so the door would stay open until early in the morning.
While Jeri was mixing their drinks, two of the three had left the scene of their crime, probably to freshen up in the not-so-fresh ladies room. The reluctant drinker was left on her own. A man had taken one of the seats next to her. From the tension in the woman’s face, Jeri could tell the woman knew the man and didn’t trust him.
Jeri pushed one of the Teas in front of the woman and shot the man her fiercest, meanest glare. She didn’t like the way he looked at the woman, as if he would have molested her right there in front of everybody if he could have gotten away with it. The hungry way the guy looked at the woman caused the bile to rise up Jeri’s throat.
Jeri tapped the bar to get his attention. “What’ll you have?”
“I’ll have what she’s having.”
Well, she ain’t having none of you. I can see it. Why can’t you, jerk ass?
Jeri mixed his drink and shoved it in front of the man. He glared at her when she didn’t move away from them. The dude had some crazy eyes. Friday the thirteenth always seemed to flush the crazies out of their hidey holes.
Another man loudly called for Jeri’s attention from the other end of the bar, so Jeri went to take the loudmouth’s order. When she returned, the guy had pulled the woman off her barstool and was dragging her toward the door.
“Let go of my arm.” The woman whispered through clenched teeth.
Jeri didn’t make it a habit to interfere in disagreements between patrons—she usually left that up to Herb—but she did have the habit of watching out for inebriated women who might become victims.
So she leaned across the bar to get the woman’s attention. “Is this guy bothering you?”
The woman’s eyes widened. Girl code. Get me out of this.
From behind them, a voice boomed above the noise. “Les Wakefield?”
The man dropped the woman’s elbow, and her arm banged on the bar. The woman pulled back and slid further away from him, rubbing the spot where a bruise would no doubt form.
“Who wants to know?”
Nick shot Jeri an angry glare and then flashed his badge at the jerk. “Detective Moreau. I’m with the NOPD. I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”
“I’m a little busy right now.” The man acted as if he controlled the world and Nick’s request was a nuisance he refused to endure.
Nick was having none of the jerk’s posturing. “Outside, please.”
He and the guy left, but the jerk hadn’t paid for his drink. Was Nick going to pay for the expensive mixed drink if the guy didn’t return?
After a while, Nick took a seat across from Jeri. Large question marks danced in his brilliant blue eyes.
“I know you think I should quit and hide in my apartment, but I can’t do that. I’d go crazy if I stayed there all day. I have to get out and do something.”
He smirked. “You can’t go shopping like most women?”
She shook her head at him. He was obviously playing with her. “That was a very sexist thing to say, and…don’t you think shopping would be even riskier behavior…if I’m in danger?”
She glanced left and right. Who was listening to them? No one. Everyone else in the bar seemed to be absorbed in their own inebriated conversations.
“How’d you get here?”
“Cab.”
He groaned and ran his fingers through his thick brown hair. Jeri had the strongest desire to smooth his waves back into place for him.
Redirect. Change the subject.
Jeri leaned across the bar to whisper her question. “Is that guy—”
“No.” Nick shook his head. “Different case.”
“Oh.” She straightened. “You gonna pay for his drink?”
His eyebrows drew together across the bridge of his nose in a serious are-you-kidding scowl.
She sighed. “You want something to drink?” She might charge him double.
He glanced at his watch. “Yeah, I’m officially off the clock. Can I have a beer?”
She nodded and pulled the draft for him. When she pushed the beer in front of him, he wrapped both hands around the mug. “Have you seen that guy in here before tonight?”
“No. But I think I heard him tell that woman this was his favorite bar. Unless he comes in here during the day when I’m off, I think that was a lie.” She paused, unsure how much she could ask. “Is he stalking her?”
“I can’t talk about an on-going investigation.”
For some reason, that busted her up. She smirked and then started laughing. “Cops are all alike.”
“Please tell me I’m nothing like…” He stopped as if he knew he was about to say too much.
“No, you’re not.” She smiled at him, grateful for his discretion. Nick was a lot like her father, and nothing like her father.
He took a long slurp on the beer and set it back on the bar before rubbing a water ring with his finger. “I thought you didn’t like me very much.”
A burst of mirth erupted before she could stop it. “I don’t think I said either way.”
He downed another ounce or two of the beer before he spoke again. “Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”
She tapped her chest. “Me? I don’t get into trouble.”
He grinned. “You’ve seen more trouble in the past few days than most people see in their lifetime.”
He rose from his seat, and her heart took a nosedive. Was he going already? She didn’t want him to leave. Not yet. She killed that thought before it could fully develop. What was he to her? Why would she want him to stay a little longer? It’s not like she liked him or wanted him around, right? He asked too many questions.
“Nick?”
He glanced up from his wallet and held her gaze.
“Be careful out there.”
“Now see? I think you do like me.” He leaned across the bar toward her. “When your shift ends tomorrow morning, call me. I’ll give you a ride home… Please.”
She hesitated, not wanting to owe him any favors in return for his consideration. Finally, she nodded and went to serve another customer. He was gone before she could get back to him, but he’d left more than enough for both the Tea and the beer on the bar. She pocketed the change.
Chapter Eleven
At six in the morning, Nick had picked Jeri up and deposited her at the Riverview just as he’d promised. There had been no conversation from point A to point B. Jeri’s mood had turned from teasingly playful in the early morning hours to somber in the light of day. Had something else happened after he had left her at work? If there had, would she tell him? Would she feel the need to hide things from him since he’d expressed his skepticism about her having psychic abilities? The mood between them had definitely chilled in the intervening hours.
Would she stay put and get some sleep? Who knew? Jeri was unpredictable. He couldn’t spend his every moment worrying about what she was doing. If she got herself into trouble, he’d find out soon enough. That seemed like a horrible attitude, but dammit, he couldn’t be two places at once. Still, the thought of something happening to her accelerated his pulse with a jolt of panic.
Nick had gotten very little sleep, if any, once he’d returned to his place in the wee hours of the morning. So when he dragged himself into the squad room around sevenish, he was cranky, to say the least.
He dropped into Ed’s guest chair, and his boss/uncle took his sweet time acknowledging Nick’s presence. Ed tossed his mechanical pencil on the papers he’d been scribbling on. “I’m not gonna like what you’re about to tell me, am I?”
Nick pressed his lips together t
o keep the words he wanted to say from jumping out of his mouth and prancing around on Ed’s messy desk. He needed to be deliberate and confident.
He counted to five before he tossed Ed a conversation starter. “I have a problem.”
Ed leaned back in his rolling chair and crossed his hairy arms over his chest. For some reason, the man always had his shirtsleeves rolled up, summer, spring, winter, or fall.
“You haven’t made any progress in the Jane Doe case, have you?”
“There have been some…complications and some…distractions.”
“Distractions? What kind of distractions? I didn’t know you had a personal life.”
Nick almost lost it. Laughter edged its way upward from his chest. He pushed it down with a mighty effort. He shook his head with the remnants of his mirth hanging around the edges of his mouth. “A personal life? When do I have time for a personal life?”
“So what kind of professional distraction might you have, Nick? This should be good.”
Ed could be such an ass.
“Charlotte called me the other—”
“You said this was a professional problem.”
Nick pulled up an extra ounce of patience. “I did something for her as a professional courtesy, one cop for another.”
“As a personal favor?”
Could they possibly get past dicing and slicing how to describe the favor he’d done for Charlotte Soileau?
He waited a minute for Ed to get the hint he wasn’t going to take the bait. Ed grumbled something low and then waved his hand for Nick to continue.
“There’s a guy that claims to be the long-lost heir of the Wakefield fortune. You know, that plantation is part of Charlotte’s jurisdiction. You know which one I mean?” He waited to verify that Ed knew what plantation he was talking about. When Ed nodded, Nick continued. “She has evidence that the man who calls himself Les Wakefield is a fraud. So she asked me to check him out because he lives here. I followed him for a while, and he led me straight to a person of interest in the Audrey St. Clair case.”
“Audrey St. Clair?” Ed scratched his chin for a while. “Oh yeah, she’s the woman that went missing, and we’ve never been able to find her. You thought her boyfriend had murdered her, right?”
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