The Nicci Beauvoir Collection: The Complete Nicci Beauvoir Series
Page 49
A surge of understanding quickened my pulse. I turned away from Dallas and smiled at Michael.
“What Dallas means,” I explained as I placed my hand over his, “is that I just want to take things a little slower than he does.”
Dallas squeezed my hand. “What Nicci means is that I am ready to take the next step in our relationship, but she feels I am rushing her to the altar.”
A joyful smile quickly spread over Michael’s gloomy countenance. “Perhaps you two should take some time and figure out what it is you each want from the relationship.”
I let go of Dallas’s hand. “Michael, we didn’t come here for counseling.”
Michael sat back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. “Not counseling, Nicci. Just a simple observation.”
“And what would you suggest, Doctor? To help us resolve this impasse,” Dallas entreated, feigning intense interest.
Michael’s smile widened and he laughed, waving his hand about in the air. “I don’t want to interfere.”
Dallas gave a fake laugh. “Oh, please go ahead.”
“Well, sometimes I recommend that couples in your position see other people for a while. Most couples come to realize what they have by finding out what others are lacking. Such a tactic could help you move to the next step in your relationship and help solidify your feelings for each other.”
“Or it could tear us apart,” Dallas countered, his voice tense.
Michael nodded. “That is the risk.”
“But you lost Nicci to another man?” Dallas probed. “Surely you above all others could understand what it would feel like for me to lose Nicci to someone else.” He paused and waited for Michael to respond. He didn’t. “I don’t know what I would do if she left me for another. How did you cope with her leaving you for the artist?”
I felt my jaw drop and quickly regained my composure. I could see the constipated look I had always associated with Michael’s anger slowly spreading across his pale face. His cheeks tinged red and his nostrils flared slightly. Then, as quickly as it began, the anger disappeared. A serene calmness overtook his countenance and he smiled at Dallas.
“I did a lot of soul-searching and learned from my mistakes,” Michael said as his pale eyes found mine. “And I can guarantee, I will never make the same mistake again.”
Dallas sat back in his chair. “I don’t think I would have handled that situation in quite the same way, Dr. Fagles.”
Michael raised his eyebrows in surprise. “And what would you have done?”
“Eliminated the competition, naturally,” Dallas replied. He lowered his voice and added, ”I would have blown him right out of the water without leaving a shred of evidence in my wake.”
* * *
We returned home from our meeting with Michael and removed our winter outwear in the entrance hall. Dallas meticulously unbuttoned his coat, making every movement of his hand appear effortless yet skillfully executed. He had practiced to perfection his air of casual confidence. Convincing everyone around him of his ability to get the job done. But as he slipped the coat from around his shoulders, I wondered if Dallas was as convinced of his skills as the rest of us. Did the impenetrable warrior have any insecurities lurking beneath all of that armor or was he as empty on the inside as a sunken ship beneath a dark ocean?
“I was impressed with how you handled Michael,” I commented as Dallas hung up his coat in the closet. “I thought you would have been at least a little more subtle in your attack.”
“We don’t have time for being subtle, Nicci. I find being direct saves time.”
I felt the spark of a memory of David skip across my mind. He had said the same thing to me once, but the circumstances had been very different.
I reached over and hung up my coat in the closet. “And what did you learn this morning?”
“I learned that the dear doctor has a short fuse. I was pushing him to get a reaction. It wasn’t quite what I was looking for.”
I shut the closet door. “What did you expect? For Michael to leap across the table at you?”
He nodded. “Something like that, yes.”
“Well, I am—”
The ringing of the hall phone interrupted me. I went over to the table by the stairs and answered it.
“Nicci, darling. It’s Sammy,” her sultry voice resonated over the phone.
I froze and turned to Dallas. I mouthed her name at him. He nodded.
“Hello, Mrs. Fallon,” I continued.
“Nicci, dear,” she purred, “I was wondering if your architect friend was around. I asked him last night about looking at my house and doing some drawings for me on a few renovations I’ve been thinking about.”
“Sure. Dallas is right here.” I placed the phone against my body so Sammy could not hear. “She says she’s calling about some renovations she talked to you about last night.”
“Everyone works pretty fast around here.” He smiled as he took the phone from me. “Hello, Sammy,” he said, happily.
I watched as he listened to her. “No, this evening would be fine, I think. Let me just check with Nicci.” He turned to me, nodding. “You are busy this evening, right?”
“Yes,” I spoke up so Sammy could hear me.
“No, Nicci can’t go,” he stated, putting the phone back to his ear, “but I can make it about six. Does that work for you? Perhaps we can grab a bite to eat after.” He paused and looked over at me. “Fine, Sammy. I’ll get the directions from Nicci. See you then.” He walked back to the table and placed the phone back on the receiver.
“She wants to see you alone,” I surmised.
“She invited you, but I want to see her alone. I can’t get what I need from her if you are there. She has to think I’m interested, remember?”
I kept my eyes focused intently on his. “She’ll want you.”
“Let’s hope so.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “And what am I to do while you are with Sammy?”
“You can call Eddie. Tell him I was supposed to meet Sammy but you haven’t heard back from me. You were wondering if he saw me at the house.” He frowned at me. “Try to sound like you’re concerned about me when you talk to him.”
“If Eddie thinks you are alone with Sammy he’ll come after you.”
Dallas grinned. “That’s the idea.”
* * *
I gave Dallas the keys to my Nissan Pathfinder and directions to Sammy’s. He was wearing a pair of tailored brown slacks and a cream cashmere sweater.
“Where did you hide your gun?” I asked, looking over his outfit.
He winked at me as he walked to my car.
I felt a shudder of apprehension course through me as he opened the door to my SUV.
I wrapped my arms about me. “Do you think you can get her to talk today?”
“I should at least get a good idea of what or if she knows anything.”
“Be careful, Dallas,” I warned. “Sammy once tried to destroy my father by manipulating me. She seems to take some perverse pleasure in hurting people. She can be as difficult to read as…you.”
That made him pause for a moment. His dark blue eyes searched mine. “I wasn’t aware you were trying to read me anymore,” he said as he tilted his head to the side. “I thought my intentions were pretty damn obvious last night.”
I felt the winds of regret blow through me. “I should never have let it go that far between us,” I stated, shaking my head. “I’m sorry.”
He reached out and caressed my cheek. “Forget about it.”
The sensation sent a warm ribbon of desire pulsating throughout my body.
He climbed into the car and glanced back at me before he started the engine. He gave me one last grin, put the car into gear, and then made his way down the shell-covered drive to the street.
I stood and watched my car disappear into traffic and tried to smile. Things were beginning to happen; hopefully, soon I would have the answers I needed to go on. But go on to what
? How do you crawl back out of a hole and face the sunlight after so long in the darkness? Perhaps I would never truly live again. Maybe David had been wrong about me. Maybe I was meant to be one of those people who just existed in the world, like Sammy and Eddie. Carrying on from day to day without purpose, without passion. Living for me seemed a dream out of reach, like some unattainable prize at a roadside carnival. Dreaming was for suckers.
* * *
A few hours later, I was curled up on the couch in the living room reading. Uncle Lance and my father were watching something on television in the den when I heard the phone ring. I picked up the receiver and started making my way back to the couch.
“Hello?”
“This is George Farber at Touro Hospital,” an unfamiliar voice said over the phone. “We are looking for any family of Dallas August.”
I felt my stomach sink to my knees.
“I’m Nicci Beauvoir. Dallas August is staying with me,” I asserted, but the phone had apparently been taken from the man’s hand because the next voice I heard belonged to Dallas.
“Nicci? Nicci?” He sounded out of breath. “I’m all right. I had an accident and these idiots won’t let me go until you come and get me.” I heard Dallas and the cool Mr. Farber exchange a few curses and then he was back. “Get over here and bring your father and Lance. I’ve been sitting here for over an hour and I’m about to kill someone.”
“Dallas, thank God.” I felt a surge of relief pass through me. “What happened?”
“While I was at Sammy’s someone tampered with the brakes on your car.” He paused and took a breath. “Just get the hell over here and get me out of this place.”
* * *
Half an hour later, we found Dallas sitting up on a gurney, arguing with an older white-haired lady. He was naked from the waist up and covered with blood. He had a sling on his left arm, a bandage around his chest, and a gash above his left eye.
“Brenda, just get me a damn cup of coffee, please?” he yelled and then he saw the three of us standing in the doorway to the exam room. “Thank God,” he whispered as he let his body sag against the gurney.
I immediately went to his side. “What happened?” I asked, carefully inspecting the deep cut above his eye.
“I was going to stop at a red light and the brakes went out. I hit a telephone pole.” He paused and winced. “The police told me the brake line had been cut.”
“Shit!” my father cursed behind me, something he never did. “That’s Nicci’s car!” he yelled. “They were out to hurt her, not you.”
Dallas shook his head. “Not exactly.”
My father glared at Dallas. “What do you mean, not exactly?”
“I was at Sammy Fallon’s place. Whoever tampered with the brakes did it while I was inside Sammy’s house.”
“What in the hell were you doing with her?” Dad asked, raising his voice.
I looked up at my father. “His job, Dad.”
“Look, Bill, I need to speak with Nicci,” Dallas said, sounding more than a little aggravated.
Uncle Lance grabbed his brother’s shoulder. “Billy, why don’t you and I get some coffee?”
“I don’t understand why he—” my father began.
“Billy!” Uncle Lance shouted. “Let them have a minute, alone. Then Spy Boy can answer all of your questions, all right?” He urged my father out of the small room.
Dallas waited for the two men to leave before he spoke. “You called Eddie?”
I nodded. “Like you told me to. I waited one hour after you left and then I called his cell phone.”
Dallas grimaced as he turned in the gurney. “And what did he say?”
“He got very upset that you had left me alone to visit his mother. Very upset.” I paused and examined his bruised left cheek. “You didn’t see him there?”
“No, he never showed. But he had plenty of time to take care of my car while I was with Sammy.”
“And what—” I checked myself.
Dallas attempted to grin and then touched his left cheek. “What happened with Sammy? I didn’t sleep with her, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
I silently berated myself for feeling jealous. “No. I meant to ask what you found out.”
“She said she could make me a very successful man by setting me up in my own architectural firm here in New Orleans. As long as I played along with her game.”
“Her game?”
“I’m to leave you for her. You are to be humiliated and hurt by my dumping you in a very public way. She wants revenge for what happened with David. I got the impression she was quite taken with him until you usurped her.”
“And what did you tell her?”
He smirked. “That I have always wanted my own architectural firm.”
Suddenly a flurry of pink came in through the exam room door.
“Oh my God, honey,” Sammy Fallon lamented. She was standing by the gurney and wringing her hands.
“Sammy,” Dallas said, sounding as surprised as I felt. “How did you know I was here?”
She traced her fingers along his bruised cheek, clucking like a mother hen. She was dressed in an oversized pink sweater, pink tights, and white tennis shoes.
“I saw the car on my way to the gym.” She looked over at me. “I immediately recognized your car, Nicci. I drove like a crazy woman to the hospital.” She placed her hand over her heaving bosom. “I can’t believe this happened,” she cried out.
“But how did you know Dallas was in this hospital?” I asked.
“Well, where else would he go? This is the only hospital up and running in the city since the storm.”
Dallas frowned at me. Then he turned to Sammy and smiled. “Thank you so much for coming, Sammy.” He paused and took in an overly dramatized painful breath. “Just some bumps and bruises. I’m sure I’ll be fine by Val’s party this weekend.”
A burly man dressed in green scrubs and a long white coat walked into the room. He had a blond beard, dark brown eyes, and he looked like he had not slept in a week.
“I’m Dr. Walston.” He nodded to me. “You family?”
“This is the woman I’m staying with,” Dallas explained as he waved his hand at me.
“Then who are you?” Dr. Walston asked, pointing at Sammy.
Sammy smiled radiantly for the doctor. “I’m a close friend.”
“Then you need to wait outside,” Dr. Walston ordered, unmoved by Sammy’s charm.
Sammy gave the doctor an indignant toss of her head and then turned back to Dallas. “I’ll call you later to see how he’s doing, Nicci.” She winked at me and then smiled once more at Dallas. “If you need anything…”
“He won’t,” I said, feeling my patience running thin with the overly zealous Mrs. Fallon.
Dallas gave me a disapproving glance. “Thank you for coming, Sammy. I’ll make sure Nicci calls if we need anything.” He paused. “I’ll see you at Val’s party, right?”
“Oh, I’ll be there.” Sammy smiled once more at Dallas and then she quickly exited the room. Dr. Walston waited until she had left before he turned his attention back to Dallas.
“I wanted your friend to stay overnight for observation, but he insists on going home with you,” Dr. Walston began as he opened the chart in his hands. “He has a concussion, wrenched left shoulder, and two bruised left ribs. Luckily he was wearing his seatbelt so he will be stiff and hurt like hell for a week or two, but he should recover fully.” Dr. Walston glanced up from the chart. “He’ll need to stay in bed for a few days and keep an eye on his concussion. If he is difficult to arouse, or starts slurring his words, get him back here immediately.”
Dallas reached out for my hand. “She can take care of me. She’s a nurse.”
“Then you’ll be in good hands.” Dr. Walston smiled at me—or attempted to, I wasn’t sure. “The police will want to follow up with him, and they may want to talk to you as well. I’ll go write out his discharge orders. The nurse will come back in with
written instructions and a phone number to call if there are problems.” He paused and stared at me. “There’s a pharmacy downstairs that can fill this prescription for pain.” He held up a small piece of paper. “Get this filled before you take him home. He’ll need them later on tonight.”
I let go of Dallas’s hand, stepped forward, and took the paper from Dr. Walston. “I’ll get my father to do it.”
Dr. Walston nodded at me. “He’s all set. The nurse should be in shortly with the paperwork.” Then Dr. Walston quickly exited the small exam room.
I turned back to Dallas and frowned. “You stay here. I’m going to go and give this to Dad.” I held up the prescription.
Dallas stopped me. “Nicci, I’m all right.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“Your hand was shaking as I held it.” He tilted his head to the side. “Was that genuine concern for me or just anger with Sammy?”
“You’re the expert, Dallas. I’m sure you already know the answer to that question.”
“I used to think I knew a great many things before I met you. But right now I’m just another confused and insecure guy wondering what you think of me.”
“What I think doesn’t matter, right?”
He sighed and laid his head back down on the gurney. “It matters, Nicci. It matters to me.”
* * *
After I got Dallas settled into my room, I came back downstairs to find my father and uncle waiting for me in the living room. Dad appeared serious as usual, and Uncle Lance was sitting on the couch gawking at my father as if he was from another planet.
My father came to me and took my elbow, guiding me into the room. “Nicci, you need to get out of here. If someone is out to hurt you then you need to go somewhere safe until this is over.”
Uncle Lance stood up. “Like they won’t try something else in Hammond or New York, Billy? The kid’s not safe anywhere until this killer is caught. You can’t expect her to up and run away.”
“Whose side are you on?” my father yelled. “She’s not bait, she’s my daughter, and I will not have her in harm’s way.”
“Billy, this isn’t about you and what you want. This is Nicci’s call. David was her love and now Spy Boy laid out in the bed up there,” he motioned to the ceiling, “is her new chance at happiness.”