The Nicci Beauvoir Collection: The Complete Nicci Beauvoir Series

by Alexandrea Weis

  “You think he may have planned all of this to get away from you? Whatever his reasons may have been, the one thing I cannot believe is that if David was alive somehow, someway, he would have made it back to you. He loved you, Nicci, and no one ever walks away from something as precious as that.”

  “Then he must be dead. Right?” I asked, searching my uncle’s eyes for the answer.

  Uncle Lance gave me an encouraging smile. “Let’s just try and gather a little more information before we go jumping to conclusions.”

  I nodded in agreement. “We should probably figure out what we are going to tell my father and Dallas about our little trip today.”

  “Easy. Tell them the truth. I took you out for a few hours of shopping to help you relax.”

  I scowled at him. “They’ll never believe that.”

  “Yes, they will. Your father and Dallas think I’m an idiot. And only an idiot would take you shopping when the rest of the world thinks you’re on the verge of a nervous breakdown.”

  I shook my head and laughed in amazement. “Sometimes, Uncle Lance, your rationalizations almost make sense.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he called, heading down the sidewalk. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

  Chapter Four

  We arrived home just as the sun was setting against a clear pink and blue sky. When Uncle Lance pulled his red Jaguar up in front of my father’s house, neither my uncle, nor I, was surprised to find Dallas waiting on the front porch.

  “Dallas!” Uncle Lance yelled, stepping from the car. “What? Were you worried?”

  “Worried?” Dallas called out. “I’ve been trying your cell phone for two hours, Nicci. Your note this morning said you were only going out for an hour. It’s after six.” He quickly descended the porch steps to the shell drive. “Where in the hell have you two been?” Dallas angrily approached the car.

  I nodded at my uncle. “We went to lunch and then Uncle Lance took me shopping in the French Quarter. He thought it would help me.”

  “Help you?” Dallas glared at my uncle. “You should have been looking after her, not taking her shopping, and especially not in the Quarter.”

  Uncle Lance came around the car to my side. “I took her to the Quarter because I had to pick up Val’s keys. I thought Nicci might like to do a little window shopping while we were there.” He shrugged. “Always helps me whenever I’m upset.”

  “Will you ever grow up, Lance!” my father roared from the porch behind us. “The only time you feel good about yourself is when you are gambling, shopping, or seducing some girl under the age of twenty-one! And what the hell were you thinking taking Nicci away for the entire day without so much as a phone call to tell us where you were.” My father turned his worried eyes to me. “I’ve called you over a dozen times, Nicole Beauvoir. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

  I reached into my purse and checked my cell phone.

  “What do you know? My phone was turned off,” I declared.

  Uncle Lance pulled his cell phone out of his pants pocket. He laughed as he waved the phone at my father. “What do you know? Mine was turned off too,” he added.

  My father glowered at my uncle. “Next time you go out I want you to keep your phone on.” He glared at me. “Both of you. It’s not like you to be so irresponsible, Nicci. We’ve been sitting here for hours wondering what had happened to the two of you. Kept thinking that Lance had taken you to some bar to get drunk.”

  “Really, Billy, I don’t hang out in bars. I only go to strip joints!” Uncle Lance called out as he headed for the steps to the porch.

  “Why did I even ask you to check on her? I should have known you would do something stupid!” My father yelled as he threw his hands in the air.

  My uncle took the steps to the porch two at a time and walked up to his brother.

  “Dallas has had dinner waiting for over an hour, Nicci,” my father scolded while trying to ignore his brother.

  Uncle Lance clapped his hands together. “Great. What has the master chef prepared for us tonight?”

  My father rolled his eyes and walked toward the front door to his home. “You’re not having a damn thing.” My father turned to his brother. “Why on earth would Val trust you not to burn her house down while she’s away on her cruise?” My father grumbled as he headed into the house with my uncle following close behind.

  “Hey, just because I started that fire in the basement when I was ten, doesn’t mean I’m not responsible, Billy.”

  “That’s exactly what it means. And stop calling me Billy! I swear I’ve met earth worms that have more brain cells than you!”

  “Who needs brain cells when I’ve got you, Billy?” Uncle Lance said as the two men walked further into the house. “Ellen used to always say you were the smart one.”

  “Lance, don’t throw Ellen at me again. Why do you always have to bring her up? Can’t we have one conversation where you don’t bring up my wife,” my father argued and then he shut the front door behind them, muffling the rest of their bickering.

  I stayed out on the drive and waited for the yelling back and forth to grow fainter as the two men moved deeper into house. I smiled to myself as I reflected back over the years of arguments and shouting festivals that I had endured between my father and uncle. I would always feel some sense of comfort from the sibling banter because I knew as long as they were trading insults with each other they still cared for one another.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” Dallas admonished. “This isn’t like you, Nicci. You have never just gone off and not told anyone where you’re going. What in the hell is the matter with you?”

  I searched his dark blue eyes, realizing that my uncle might have been right about me. I had been comparing every man I had met to David. I wondered at that moment if Dallas’s love would ever be enough to fill the void that David’s death had left inside of me. It seemed no one had ever made me feel the way David had. His smile had warmed me all over like the sun rising inside of my soul. Would any man ever be charming enough, funny enough, or just enough?

  I turned away, avoiding Dallas’s condescending gaze. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have called you.”

  I peered down the long shell drive to my childhood home as the sun slowly crept below the pale pink horizon. I was suddenly gripped by a memory of David. He was sitting in his red Jeep, on that same driveway, as the sun rose behind him. He had just brought me home after painting his first portrait of me. It was the same night he had first kissed me. A twinge of sorrow tugged at my heart as my mind grappled with my uncle’s words from earlier in the day. If David was alive, then why had he not come back to me?

  “Nicci?” Dallas gripped my hand, pulling me away from my thoughts. “Are you coming?”

  “Yes, Dallas. I’m with you.”

  ***

  Uncle Lance ended up talking my father into letting him stay for dinner. Dallas had prepared a gourmet feast of grilled Gulf red snapper, green salad with Remoulade dressing, and homemade French bread. I noticed during dinner that Dallas only picked at his food and, instead of eating, kept downing Stolichnaya and sodas. After Uncle Lance had headed home, and my father had retreated to his office, Dallas and I settled into my bedroom for the night.

  “I swear if we keep hanging around your uncle, one of us is going to be arrested for conspiracy,” Dallas mused as he settled down on the bed and started removing his shoes.

  I grabbed for my robe behind my bathroom door. “He does know quite a few disreputable types. His dinner conversation always tends to be a bit shocking.”

  Dallas shook his head. “I have some former bosses at the FBI who would kill to spend five minutes with your uncle and pick his brains about Carl Bordonaro. They’ve been trying to nail that guy for years.”

  “Don’t say that to Uncle Lance. He and Uncle B go way back. He adores that round little man.”

  “Uncle B?” Dallas chuckled. “I hope that doesn’t mean he’s going to be invited to the wedding.”


  I shrugged. “With Uncle Lance you never know.”

  Dallas rubbed the back of his neck and let out a long, heavy sigh.

  “You didn’t seem to eat too much at dinner,” I commented. I walked over to the bed and sat down next to him. “I haven’t seen you put away that much alcohol since we were first thrown together in New York last December.” I ran my fingers over his dark hair. “Care to tell me what’s bothering you?” I softly asked.

  He rubbed his face in his hands. “Your father wants me to take you out tomorrow. I need to talk to you about something.”

  I quickly yanked my hand away from him and placed it in my lap. “I thought you were going back to Connecticut tomorrow?”

  He shook his head. “He asked me to postpone my trip for a few days because he wants you to see someone.”

  I tilted away from him. “See who?”

  “There’s a psychologist—”

  “Are you kidding me?” I jumped up from the bed, and bolted for the bedroom door.

  “Nicci, hear me out.” He stood up and followed behind me.

  He reached the door at the same time I did. Instead of letting me walk out of the room, he held the door closed in front of me.

  “I know you don’t want to go and see any kind of shrink, especially after what happened with Michael,” he said behind me. “I don’t know what is going on with you anymore. And you’re father is worried as hell about you.”

  I turned to meet his cool gaze. “So does everyone think I’m crazy?”

  Dallas slammed his fist into the door behind me. “You know what the problem is,” he griped. “I don’t have to spell it out for you.” He stepped away and ran his hand over the back of his neck.

  “David,” I whispered, without thinking. “You’re talking about David.”

  “Ever since the wedding it’s like you’ve become obsessed with him. When we were in Connecticut you never said a word about him, now he creeps into every conversation we have.” He looked down at the oak hardwood floor. “I believed when you moved in with me that you were done with David.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to talk about him anymore. When we moved to Connecticut, you made it pretty clear that you wanted me to move on.”

  His artic eyes met mine. “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to. When you took the portrait he painted for you of Jenny and put it into storage, I got the impression that the subject of David was not open for discussion.”

  “That’s not what I intended. I thought it was a new beginning for us. I wanted to put reminders of the past away. I figured that would be best for both of us.”

  I searched his face. “Are you jealous of David?”

  He put his hands on his hips. “Do you know how hard it has been for me to be the man that came after David? Wondering all of the time, if you were thinking of him? Comparing me to him?” He shook his head. “I’m getting real tired of trying to figure out exactly where I belong in this relationship, Nicci.”

  “That was never my intention.” I took a breath and slowly let it out. “I’ve always cared—”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit again! I gave up everything I knew to be with you, and all you can say is that you care for me.” His voice was cold and harsh. “I can’t go on like this. You need to make up your mind about us. You either want me, or you don’t.”

  The fine muscles in his cheek quivered with anger. “Stop it, Dallas! I’ve got enough to handle without you throwing ultimatums at me,” I shouted.

  Dallas turned away from me. “I can’t talk to you anymore. Every time we get on the subject of your feelings for me, you clam up.” He walked to the foot of the bed and grabbed his pajama bottoms, lying across the comforter. “I’m going to sleep in the guest room next door.” He went to the bathroom and pulled his robe off the hook behind the door. “I’ll tell your father in the morning that you’ve agreed to go to the psychologist,” he added, keeping his back to me.

  “What if I don’t want to go to anyone?”

  He turned to me. “You’ll go to placate your father. He wants this, and I couldn’t talk him out of it.” He pulled a white card out of his pants pocket and threw it on the bed. “The name and number are on the card. Maybe you can finally open up to someone, because you sure as hell have never been able to open up to me.”

  I made my way across the room. “I would have thought after last night….”

  He threw his robe and pajamas over his shoulder. “Having sex with me is not opening up to me, Nicci!”

  “I beg to differ,” I coolly objected.

  He reached the bedroom door, and placed his hand on the brass doorknob. “I gave up my past when we started our life together in Connecticut. You have never really put your past behind you, Nicci. You need to do that, otherwise, we don’t stand a chance.” He hurried through the door, and then slammed it behind him.

  I sat down on my bed. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to see some shrink!”

  And that, I had convinced myself, was my final word on the matter. But as I sat on the bed, the small white card Dallas had thrown onto the comforter distracted me. I picked up the card, kneading it between my fingers for a few minutes before I finally got up the nerve to look down and read it.

  Chapter Five

  Dr. Andrea Appell was a psychologist who specialized in stress disorders. At least, that is what my father told me two days later when he took me to my nine o’ clock appointment with the woman.

  “Just talk to her, Nicci. Please, do this for me,” my father begged, as he dropped me outside of the medical office building across from Touro Hospital on Prytania Street. “She came highly recommended, and I’m told she is the best. So give her a try. Dallas will be by to pick you up in about an hour.”

  Why I had made the appointment to go to the psychologist that morning had resulted from an overburden of guilt from my father. Uncle Lance had advised me to just go along with my father’s wishes.

  “The less he worries about you, the less suspicious he will be of the time we’re going to have to spend together. We have to find out what happened to David.” Uncle Lance had whispered to me when I had walked out the front door of my father’s home earlier that morning.

  I remember at the time thinking, he was right. Yet, standing outside of Dr. Appell’s office, I began to have doubts about my uncle’s game plan. It’s one thing to think you are crazy; it’s quite another to seek help for it.

  “Welcome, Nicci,” a very tall woman with sandy brown hair greeted when I walked into the office. “I’m Andrea Appell. I’m so glad you could make it today. Do you mind if I call you Nicci?”

  “No, Nicci is fine.”

  Her small office was decorated in soft browns and pale earth tones. The assorted small glass tables on either end of her brown leather couch were filled with glowing candles. Soothing pictures of ocean views decorated her walls, while the faintest sound of a flowing stream could be heard coming from a sound machine in the corner of the room.

  “Thank you for fitting me into your schedule, Dr. Appell. My father was rather insistent about my seeing you,” I said nervously while trying to absorb the relaxing atmosphere emanating from the room.

  Dr. Appell studied me for a moment with her warm brown eyes. “Well, from what you told me on the phone, your father sounds very worried about you.” She motioned to the brown leather couch behind her. “Why don’t you have a seat here and we’ll get started.”

  I gingerly took my place on the couch and warily watched as Dr. Appell had a seat in an overstuffed brown leather chair across from me.

  She picked up a pen and notebook that were sitting on a glass table to her right. “I got a little bit from you on the phone, but why don’t you tell me what has brought you here today. Why do you feel you need counseling?”

  I looked at the woman dumbfounded. “My father wanted me to come.”

  “I understand that, but this is about you and not your father, Nicci.” She nodded. “What
has led you here? What has brought you to this point in your life?”

  “What has led me here?” I shook my head and smiled at her. “That’s simple,” I assured her.

  Dr. Appell laughed. “I’m glad you find that a simple request. Most of my clients think that’s one of the hardest questions they have ever had to answer.” Dr. Appell wrote something in her notebook.

  “For me there is only one thing, no…one person who has brought me to this point in my life. His name was David. He’s the reason I’m here today. He made me what I am.”

  She glanced up from her notepad and slowly smiled. “Tell me about David.”

  “About David….” I felt my voice catch in my throat at the mention of his name. My heart was beating wildly and my palms began to sweat. Every detail about David that I had tried to suppress since moving in with Dallas came barreling up from deep inside of me. It was as if the past three years had finally caught up with me. I was confronted by all of the death, violence, intrigue, and danger I had endured. I was blindsided by a wall of mixed emotions. I felt my stomach tighten, as my eyes filled with tears. Into my mind popped an image of David, standing before me and smiling at me with his warm gray eyes.

  “David was….” I took a deep breath and fought for control over my emotions. “He was everything to me. Then, he died.”

  Dr. Appell grabbed a box of tissue from the table beside her. She handed the tissue to me and nodded. “Why don’t you start at the beginning? Tell me about the day you and David met,” she suggested in a soothing voice.

  For the next hour, I told the psychologist about my life with David; our love affair, his painting, and his sudden murder. I went on and on about the enigma that had been David Alexander.

  ***

  “Not long after the whole Michael Fagles incident, Dallas and I moved to Connecticut and started living together. He took over his family’s yacht building business, while I finished my next novel,” I explained, as our time came to a close.