The Nicci Beauvoir Collection: The Complete Nicci Beauvoir Series

by Alexandrea Weis

  “Nicci?” a rather high-pitched voice said behind me.

  I felt a familiar twinge of dread in my stomach when I heard that childlike twang. I turned around knowing who I would see standing behind me.

  “Michael,” I said as I faced his pale blue eyes. “How nice to see you.”

  He was exactly the same as I remembered. He stood only an inch or two taller than I was and still appeared bulky, as if he lifted weights in his spare time. His pale skin did nothing to help his square face and thin lips. He was dressed in a rather cheap-looking tuxedo, which hung from his shoulders like a trench coat. He was holding a glass of champagne trying to appear sophisticated, but as usual, Michael only seemed more awkward than confident. His eyes eagerly swept up and down my figure, and I could hear his inner voice berating my choice of dress for being a bit too revealing.

  He gave a strained smile. “How are you?”

  “I’m well, Michael.” Dallas tugged at my arm and I motioned to him. “Michael Fagles, this is Dallas August. Dallas is an architect from New York in town for the holidays.”

  Michael extended his hand. “Actually, it’s Dr. Michael Fagles.”

  I rolled my eyes, feeling that familiar pang of distaste swell up from the pit of my stomach. It was the conditioned response I had developed to Michael’s blatant condescension. Then Michael reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. I almost groaned out loud.

  Dallas took the card, and I noticed how he tried to contain his smug grin by turning his head downward, pretending to read the card carefully.

  “You’re a psychiatrist?” Dallas said, finally looking up and appearing quite serious. He then nudged me playfully. “Did you and Nicci work together? Is that how you know each other?”

  I almost reached over and stomped on his foot.

  Michael cleared his throat nervously. “Nicci didn’t tell you?”

  Dallas feigned ignorance, raising his dark brows and smiling.

  Michael cleared his throat again. “Nicci and I were engaged for a time a few years back. Before she became a writer.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize.” A look of dismay erased Dallas’s smile. I observed his performance with a sinking feeling of dread. “So you knew her before that painter…” Dallas turned to me. “What was his name, darling?”

  I gulped back my surprise and fought to keep my face composed. “His name was David Alexander,” I replied and waited for Michael’s reaction.

  Michael gave an uncharacteristically charming smile. “No. I met her after that painter,” he calmly stated.

  Suddenly a bright tuft of red hair peeked out over Michael’s shoulder. Eddie’s red face moved out from behind Michael. Eddie was dressed in a form-fitted black tuxedo that screamed the benefits of good tailoring against Michael’s ill-fitting rental. Eddie and Michael both stood there staring at me.

  Now I know what hell is like, I thought to myself.

  “Eddie!” Dallas called out as he reached out happily and shook Eddie’s stubby hand. “You must know Dr. Michael Fagles.”

  I could not help but stifle my grin when I heard Dallas accentuate the word “doctor” just as Michael had done.

  Eddie and Michael eyed each other tentatively but did not shake hands.

  Dallas unexpectedly removed my hand from his arm and handed me over to Michael. I glared at him, wondering what in the hell he was up to.

  “Why don’t you two take a turn out on the dance floor, for old time’s sake?” Dallas waved to the vacant black and white floor. “I’m just going to go over to the buffet table and grab some of that enticing food.” He turned his gaze to the long white linen-covered tables off to our right. “The smell is driving me mad,” he added as he clapped his hands together.

  I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could say anything, Dallas put his mouth over mine and smothered me with a long kiss.

  When he finally came up for air, he winked at me. “Go have some fun, sweet cheeks.”

  He then quickly scurried away, moving past Eddie and heading for the buffet tables.

  “How have you been, Nicci?” Michael asked. “I heard you were back in town and…” He looked over at Eddie staring at us and then he took my hand. “Let’s go dance.”

  Leaving a bewildered Eddie behind us, Michael led me to the dance floor. But right before we stepped out onto the black and white floor, I saw Dallas coming toward us with Sammy on his arm.

  I glanced back over my shoulder to see Eddie’s green eyes all over his mother and Dallas. I silently prayed Dallas knew what he was doing, and hoped nobody ended up in the hospital before the evening was done.

  My body flinched as Michael placed his arm about my waist, and when the smell of his heavy cologne hit my nostrils, a wave of revulsion rose in the back of my throat. I reined in the flood of unhappy memories cascading through me like toxic waste and tried to focus on the task at hand.

  “I thought you would have been married to a nice little girl by now,” I said to Michael as the music slowed in the background.

  Michael pulled my body closer to his. “None of the women have been you, Nicci. You’re not an easy woman to get over.”

  “How is your family?” I asked, repressing an urge to slap him.

  He shrugged. “My sister Kathy finally got married to her longtime fiancé, George. You remember him. They have a little boy on the way.” He paused and rolled his eyes playfully. “And my mother is still trying to set me up with just about every single girl she meets.”

  That made me laugh. I remembered how his mother and my aunt plotted shamelessly to push Michael and me together.

  “How is that cousin of yours? I heard about her divorce from Eddie.” His face became somber. “I have to tell you I was rather relieved when she left him. I’ve heard a lot of bad stories about Sammy’s son since you left.”

  “Colleen is doing well. She’s dating some boy she met at Tulane. She has Eddie’s money and her freedom from my aunt so I guess she has finally found some happiness.”

  “And does she still stand out in a crowd?” Michael asked, almost laughing. “I recall the first time we saw your cousin’s transformation from a demure, rather chubby, debutante to a Sammy Fallon look-a-like. At the time we were celebrating your graduation from nursing school and,” his eyes met mine, “our engagement.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I spied Dallas and Sammy dancing not far from us.

  “Colleen’s here tonight and you should see her dress,” I said casually. I felt myself becoming easily distracted by Dallas’s shameless flirting with Sammy.

  “That dress…” His voice faltered for a second. “You wore it the night of our engagement party. The night David came back in your life.” His fingers pressed firmly into my skin as we danced.

  I looked back up into his eyes and couldn’t help but wonder if he had been the last person to see David alive.

  “It must have been hard for you losing him like that. I am sorry.” He sighed. “Actually, I’m sorry for a lot of things. I realized after you left that I may not have been what you needed. And then I read your book.” He paused. “I couldn’t help but notice the similarities between the internist in the book and me. I was an over-controlling ass who never allowed you to have your own life. Your book helped me realize that I destroyed our relationship just as much as David did.”

  I wondered if I should feel touched or concerned by his words. “Michael, I don’t know what to say, but thank you. I know how angry you must have been after I called off our engagement. But I’m glad you understand what David meant to me.”

  “Yes, but when you agreed to marry me I thought you had forgotten about him.”

  I kept my face composed while my mind rapidly searched for the right words to appease him. “I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am over everything that happened between us.” I gazed once more into his pale blue eyes and, for an instant, I yearned for the mischievous twinkle of David’s gray eyes before me. “I hope one day
you can forgive me.”

  “You are forgiven.” He pulled me closer and whispered, “So why didn’t you call me after David died?”

  A ripple of disbelief made its way down my spine. I recoiled away from him. “Call you?”

  His rough, calloused hand tightened over mine. “I could have helped you work through your grief, and after all we had been through together, you could have used a friend.” He paused. “I know things ended badly between us, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t be there for you. Can’t two people who loved each other once, still be friends?”

  I stopped dancing and studied his face, trying to judge the depth of his sincerity. “I never thought you would want to see me again after everything that happened.”

  He laughed and reached for me again. “Nonsense, Nicci. I always hoped at some point we could put the past behind us.”

  A rush of suspicion overtook me and I tried to pull away. “You want to be friends? I don’t understand, Michael. Is business so bad that you need me back on your arm, to what, hand out more business cards?”

  His eyes worriedly darted about the dance floor as he held me in his arms. “Nicci, lower your voice. You’re taking this the wrong way. I didn’t mean…” He frowned and shook his head.

  I struggled to free myself as I searched the dance floor for Dallas. “Perhaps you should be dancing with Sammy instead of me. She’s better connected and knows a lot more screwed up people than I do.”

  Michael released me and took a step back. “I don’t need Sammy or her connections anymore. Ever since Katrina, everyone in the city is screwed up, and I’m doing quite well now.” He sighed. “Look, I just want to get to know you again, Nicci. You’re a famous author now and quite unlike the girl I knew two years ago. You’re more confident and more insightful than you used to be. Being a writer agrees with you.”

  “Writing doesn’t give you greater insight, Michael, it only makes you question yourself even more. If anything, I feel less confident than the girl you knew.” I looked up into his face and was unsure about the warmth I thought I saw there. “You seem so different. To hear you speak like this…I just don’t know what to say.”

  He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Just say I have a chance, Nicci. A chance to prove to you that I have changed and that the architect is not the next David.”

  Suddenly the music stopped, and I nervously scanned the crowd around the dance floor. I felt as if all eyes were on me.

  I stared down at the black and white tile beneath my feet, hoping to make a quick exit without having to look once more into Michael’s lifeless eyes. “I should go,” I said, but he grabbed my arm before I could get away.

  “Think about it. That’s all I ask.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. “Call me when you’re ready. My cell number is on the back.” He let go of my arm and turned away, quickly departing from the dance floor.

  I noticed Dallas had Sammy in his arms not far from me. I left him to his scheming and headed over to the bar at the other end of the room. There I found Uncle Lance and my father waiting for me.

  Uncle Lance was sipping some pink concoction from an oversized hurricane glass. “Interesting conversation with the moron?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure.” I nodded to the bartender. “Champagne.”

  “Dallas seems to be working on Sammy and Eddie,” Uncle Lance reported as he looked across the dance floor to Eddie. “That boy has been watching his mother and your spy boy for over five minutes now.”

  I picked up the champagne placed before me and downed the entire glass in one breath.

  “Hey!” My father came around to my side. “Take it easy there, Nic.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  “I don’t know how much more I can take,” I whispered to him.

  “Well,” Uncle Lance’s voice broke in, “now it’s gonna get real interesting. Because I think Mount Eddie is about to blow.”

  We all turned just in time to see Eddie moving out, or should I say swaying out, onto the dance floor and right up to his mother and Dallas. Sammy smiled sweetly to her little boy and tried to appease his ruffled feathers with a few kind words, but Eddie was not to be soothed so easily. He pretended to turn away, then without warning, Eddie immediately went after Dallas, throwing his body against him. But Dallas was too fast for him and shoved Eddie away, sending the drunken man easily to the floor. Then Eddie was up again, swinging away, with Sammy screaming at him to stop.

  Uncle Lance laughed beside me. “Oh, this is good stuff!”

  Dallas seemed almost to be toying with the boy. With every swing Eddie threw, Dallas ducked and bobbed out of reach. Finally, Eddie swung a little too hard and spun himself right onto the dance floor. Dallas looked down at the young man sprawled out beneath him. He said something we could not hear and then he started walking away. Sammy then knelt down, trying to help Eddie to his feet.

  By this time, every face in the room was riveted on Dallas as he casually strolled across the room. When he reached my side, he turned to my father.

  “Are they still watching me?” he asked.

  My father nodded.

  Dallas took the empty champagne flute from my hand, placed it on the bar, and then took me in his arms.

  “Pretend you’re enjoying this,” he murmured against my lips. Then he kissed me.

  I just stood there frozen as his lips seared into mine. A blaze ignited inside of me and I felt my lips giving into him, accepting him.

  He stopped suddenly, let me go, and took my hand. Dallas turned to my father and whispered, “Time to make our exit.”

  My father and uncle started for the elevators. Dallas pulled me alongside of him as we followed behind. Once we were safely inside the elevator and beginning our descent to the lobby, I felt my shoulders sag with relief.

  Uncle Lance started laughing and my father blew out a long whistle from his lips. “Boy, when you say you’re going to push buttons, you really mean it.”

  “Well, now we’ve set the trap,” Dallas said, as he undid his tuxedo tie. “Let’s just see which fish bites first.”

  Chapter 17

  Dallas and I compared notes on what we had discovered that evening on the way home in my father’s car. I told him of my conversation with Michael and could not help but notice how he scowled when I repeated the encounter word for word.

  “So the doctor wants to see you again. Good,” Dallas stated.

  I held up Michael’s card. “I don’t know what to make of it.”

  “Perhaps he never got over you, Nicci.” Dallas chuckled. “Are there anymore forlorn lost loves of yours wandering around the city that I need to know about?”

  “Are you kidding!” my father laughed. “Nicci never took an interest in any man until David came along.”

  “That’s not true,” Uncle Lance corrected. “There was that Elliot guy a few years back. I seem to remember she was pretty infatuated with him.”

  “She was ten, Lance!” my father yelled.

  Uncle Lance shrugged. “Maybe we should shake him down while we’re at it. Perhaps he turned into some kind of serial killer.”

  “Let’s stick with the suspects at hand,” Dallas suggested. “And Nicci, don’t ever lower your defenses like that again. You must provoke him to find out what he’s truly thinking. Remember what we came here to do.” He paused for a moment and then nodded his head thoughtfully. “But it may be better if you and the doctor had a little time to yourselves.”

  I groaned silently to myself.

  My father spoke up from behind the wheel. “So Michael is still a strong suspect?”

  Dallas observed him through the rearview mirror. “He sure has a motive. Maybe he thought by taking David out of the picture Nicci would come back to him.”

  “Eddie could have thought the same thing,” Uncle Lance offered from the front seat.

  Dallas glanced over to Uncle Lance. “Yes, but Eddie never had Nicci to lose. The doctor did.�
�

  “So you have ruled out Eddie?” I asked as I gazed out to the rainy street.

  “Not yet,” Dallas replied. “Eddie could have been pushed into killing David by his mother. She’s got a strong hold over that boy.”

  “And Sammy?” my father inquired.

  Dallas grinned. “I’m still trying to figure her out.”

  I looked over at his profile. “What did you say to Eddie when he was laid out on the dance floor, before you walked away?”

  He turned his attention to the dark streets outside. “I told him to stay the hell away from you. I said you belong to me.”

  I shook my head. “He won’t like hearing that.”

  “Not to worry,” Dallas whispered. “It’s all part of my plan.”

  * * *

  After some celebratory toasts at midnight and a few hugs and kisses had been exchanged, everyone went upstairs to bed. But I could not sleep. I lay in my bed reflecting on all of the events that had transpired that evening. How Sammy had hungered over Dallas. About Michael and all the things he had said to me. The anger in Eddie’s face as he watched his mother dancing with Dallas, and the way Eddie looked sprawled out on the dance floor.

  It was hard for me to believe it had been over two years since I had associated with any of these people. Because in one night I felt as if I had gone back in time to the days when David had entered my life; the same characters, the same hate, the same envy, and the same pitiful displays of disdain. Nothing had changed; nothing except for me. Before I would have wilted under Michael’s glances, tried to soothe Eddie’s angry tirades, and felt the same loathing for Sammy that everyone else in town shared. But now I felt nothing. If anything, I felt pity for these people because I had moved on. I had put the past in perspective, and it was not so much that I had forgiven them, but I had forgotten them.

  No longer able to stand the restlessness of my mind, I quietly got up from the bed, making sure I did not disturb Dallas. I put on my blue robe and quickly snuck out of my bedroom. I went downstairs to the bar in the den hoping a drink would settle my uneasiness and help me sleep. I decided as I poured my vodka and orange juice that this was going to be my private toast to the New Year. Tonight at the party, I had discovered something about myself. I had learned that I was finally over all of them, over all of the people who had so encumbered my past. Perhaps, I told myself, I was even over David.