Sacrifice

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Sacrifice Page 24

by Alexandrea Weis


  “Are you two all right?” Dallas called out as he came over to us.

  David nodded to Dallas. “We’re fine,” he informed him. David eyed Simon’s body on the floor beside us.

  “He’s dead. I hit him three times before he went down,” Dallas reported.

  “Who shot Mr. Caston?” Cleveland tersely asked from across the room.

  “I watched as Simon killed him,” I replied.

  “I knew there was somethin’ funny about that little guy,” Cleveland spoke out. “You guys weren’t kiddin’ when you told me he was up to no good.”

  I looked up at Dallas. “Simon killed Jenny Ryan too. Her body is in the trunk of an old blue Monte Carlo Simon parked downstairs. He was going to replace her for me and make everyone think I was dead.”

  “The sick bastard,” Dallas whispered.

  Cleveland walked up to us. “Is there anyone else in the apartment?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so,” I told him.

  “I’d better go and make a sweep upstairs just to make sure,” Cleveland said and he headed for the stairs.

  The tall security guard disappeared into the first bedroom on the second floor. I took a breath and started to feel the shakes settle over me.

  “Nicci?” I heard my uncle’s voice from the “emergency exit” doorway.

  “I’m fine, Uncle Lance,” I called out. I looked over at David and whispered, “You brought him here?”

  He laughed. “He wouldn’t let us take his car without him.”

  Uncle Lance kneeled down beside me and wrapped his arms about me. He kissed my forehead. “Jesus Christ, kid! When I heard the gunshots downstairs I thought I had lost you.” He nodded to Dallas. “Spy boy here made me wait at the bottom of the stairs until he gave me the all clear.”

  Dallas lowered his eyes to him. “Which I never did Lance. So why are you up here?”

  Uncle Lance frowned up at him. “Like after all that gunfire I was going to stay down in the lobby and twiddle my thumbs.”

  Dallas scanned the room. “Looks like a hell of a mess. How are we going to explain this? And these,” he stated, holding up his Sig Sauer P226.

  “I’ll tell the police what I saw,” David pronounced as he stood from the floor. “Simon had his gun aimed at her and threatened to kill both of us. You guys came in and stopped him. It was self-defense.” He reached over and pulled me up next to him.

  “A witness statement from a guy who has been dead for three years?” Dallas eyed him skeptically. “I don’t know which is going to be harder to explain you or the gun I shot Simon with.” He tucked his gun in the front waistband of his jeans.

  Uncle Lance nodded as he stood up. “He’s right. We’re in post Katrina New Orleans, David. The police, as well as the justice system here, are about as skittish as a high-strung racehorse. They’re looking to prosecute anyone they can get their hands on.”

  David looked from Uncle Lance to Dallas. “Then what do we do?”

  Dallas turned to David. “You need to disappear.”

  David nodded. “I’ve got somewhere I can go. I’ll take Nicci with me.”

  “Good idea,” Dallas agreed. “Simon could have already made arrangements to have something happen to her. I’ll need to go to New York and make sure it’s safe for both of you.”

  Uncle Lance sighed. “That settles it then. Nicci’s gonna have to disappear.”

  The three men just stared at each other. I observed their unspoken communication with a sinking feeling of dread.

  Dallas looked over at Simon’s body. “And we have someone who can take her place.”

  “Who?” Uncle Lance asked.

  “There’s a girl’s body downstairs in a blue Monte Carlo,” Dallas explained to Uncle Lance. “The girl looks a lot like Nicci.”

  Uncle Lance turned to me. “She got any ID on her we can use?”

  I nodded to the chair where the black purse had fallen from my shoulder. “Her purse is over there. And her jacket is by the elevator doors. But what are you going to do?” I nervously asked him.

  Uncle Lance said nothing and went over to the brown leather chair. He began rummaging through Jenny Ryan’s oversized black purse.

  David gently turned my face to his. “Nicci, to make sure you are safe, really safe, you need to disappear tonight. You will have to take on a new identity. You will need to become Jenny Ryan.”

  “What! I just can’t disappear! I have a life and a new book coming out next month. I don’t want to be her! To act like her and… to talk like her. I can’t!”

  David picked up his gun from the floor. “Nicci, you’re only taking her name. You don’t have to act like her. And it will only be for a little while. Trust me.”

  I gazed into his wonderful gray eyes. I saw the bruise under his right eye and took in the scar on the left side of his face. He had risked everything to be with me. How could I doubt him anymore?

  Cleveland emerged from the second floor landing.

  “I’ve checked the other rooms,” he announced as he came down the stairs. “So you guys got any ideas ‘bout what we gonna do?”

  “We have some ideas,” Dallas said, nodding to the tall security guard. “Some of which you may not like,” he asserted.

  Cleveland holstered his gun as he walked up to Dallas. “I’m open to all suggestions. Considerin’ my employment just got terminated, I’ll listen to anythin’ you guys have to offer. As long as there’s somethin’ in it for me.”

  “An ambitious man. I like that.” Dallas grinned as he took in the large man’s face. “Tell me, Cleveland, have you ever considered relocating to find new employment?”

  Cleveland shrugged. “I ain’t got nothin’ keepin’ me in this town no more.”

  “Ever thought about New York City? I’m suddenly in desperate need of a good security guard. Great benefits and a very lucrative moving bonus.”

  Cleveland gave a big grin. “When do I start?”

  “Five minutes ago,” Dallas answered. “We’re going to need some help sprucing up the place. Can you get me some garbage bags, bleach, and paper towels?”

  Cleveland nodded.

  “How long before anyone would come looking for Caston?” Dallas questioned.

  “His executive assistant, Lauren, usually comes by after nine in the mornin’,” Cleveland replied.

  “That gives us well into tomorrow before he’s discovered,” Dallas stated. He nodded to Cleveland. “When the police question you tell them that Ms. Beauvoir showed up here alone for her date with Mr. Caston and left a short time later. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary and you had no hint that anything was wrong after Ms. Beauvoir left. All right?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Cleveland agreed. He went over to the elevator and pressed the call button. “I’ll jus’ go and get everythin’ you asked for,” he said over his shoulder.

  The elevator doors opened and Cleveland stepped inside.

  After Cleveland had left the apartment, I turned to Dallas. “What about Simon?” I asked.

  I’ll take care of Simon. He needs to disappear, not die, just yet,” Dallas insisted. “It will give me time to get to New York and take over his organization. When the time is right I’ll make sure his body is found where it won’t be connected to any of us.”

  Uncle Lance returned to my side, carrying Jenny Ryan’s black purse in his hands. “She must have had a job at The Carol Robinson Art Gallery on Magazine Street. There are business cards in her purse. She also has some credit cards, a driver’s license with an address uptown, a cell phone, and some keys.” Uncle Lance held out the purse to me. “Take this. I’ll go back to Valie’s and get your purse and wallet. The police will find your ID on her body and assume she is you. Once Billy and I positively identify the body in the morgue as you, Nicci Beauvoir will be dead.” He sighed as he nudged the purse toward me once more. “I’m sorry, kid, but it’s the only way.”

  I shook my head, refusing the dead girl’s purse. “But I can talk to the po
lice. Tell them what I saw. We don’t have to do this.”

  Uncle Lance placed the strap from Jenny Ryan’s black purse around my shoulder. “You can’t say anything, Nicci. You would never be able to explain any of this.” He looked over at Dallas and frowned. “If the girl’s been dead for more than a few hours, we won’t be able to leave her body here. ME will notice the discrepancy. I know the ME, Dan Cantor, pretty well, and I can ask him to overlook a few things, but not that,” he insisted in a deep voice.

  “Perhaps murder suicide?” David suggested as he placed his pistol into the waistband of his khaki pants.

  “We’ll have to put her in the water. It will make the time of death difficult to pinpoint,” Dallas clarified.

  Uncle Lance nodded at Dallas. “We can take her to an empty warehouse I know a few blocks from here and put her in the Mississippi River. The river is running high and fast with all the spring run-off from up north. It will take the police a while to find her body in those currents. That should give mother nature plenty of time to destroy any incriminating evidence.”

  Unable to stomach the men’s conversation, I turned away. My eyes wandered about the expansive apartment until I found the door to Greg’s private storage area.

  “What about David’s paintings?” I asked, waving my hand back toward the storage room door. “Caston kept them in there. What happens when the police find them?”

  Dallas stared at the storage room door. “Better not risk leaving anything behind that could cause problems down the road for any of us.” He looked about the apartment. “Any idea where he keeps the key?” he asked.

  I nodded. “On a key chain in his pocket. It’s a funny looking square key. A gold one.”

  “Then I’ll get the paintings and take them with me,” Dallas explained.

  “Why don’t you give the paintings to me?” Uncle Lance suggested. “I know a certain Italian gentleman who is a big fan of David’s work. I could present them to him as a sort of thank you for all of his help.”

  Dallas shrugged as he looked at David. “You all right with that?”

  David nodded. “Seems the least we could do for Uncle B.”

  Uncle Lance reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and tossed them to David. “Take my Jag and get Nicci out of here. We’ll clean up everything here.”

  “Stay at the dead girl’s place tonight,” Dallas instructed. “I suggest you make it look like the girl suddenly decided to leave town. Just in case anyone comes looking for her.”

  David nodded. “I know what to do.”

  “In the morning you two can head out to your house,” Dallas advised.

  I turned to David “What house?”

  He grinned at me. “A place I purchased a few months back, or should I say Dan Goldvarg purchased, outside of the city.”

  “Keep the car,” Uncle Lance offered. “I’ll get another one and I’ll send you out some new plates in your new name.”

  I looked up at my uncle. “Uncle Lance….”

  My uncle pulled me into his arms and hugged me. “I’ll take care of everything, Nicci. I promise I’ll talk to Billy. He’ll understand. Just do what David tells you and everything will be all right,” he whispered into my hair.

  I stepped back from my uncle’s embrace and became distracted by the artic eyes of Dallas August standing beside him.

  “Will I ever see you again?” I asked him.

  Dallas gave me a warm smile. “One day. You take care of him,” he said, nodding to David.

  I leaned over and kissed Dallas gently on the cheek. “Thank you. Thank you for everything you have done for me.”

  His scowl quickly returned. “Time to go,” he ordered.

  David wrapped his bloodstained arm about my shoulders and guided me toward the “emergency exit” door. I glanced back once more to my uncle and Dallas. A swell of emotion began to fill my heart. I was not ready for this. I wanted to be me and not have to walk away from everything I had known to become some stranger with bad diction. And then I caught sight of the two dead people on the floor. I immediately regretted my paltry concerns. I was alive. The meaningful familiarities of my life paled in comparison to the reality of their demise.

  As we slowly made our way down the stairs, the realization of what had just happened hit me like a swift kick in the gut. My slight shaking turned into an uncontrollable trembling and my respirations came in accelerated gasps. I felt David’s arm tighten around me as we emerged from the building.

  “I know how you feel Nicci,” he whispered in my ear. “It’s not every day you get to die.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jenny Ryan lived in a yellow shotgun cottage on the end of Magazine Street near the outskirts of the Garden District. The slender house with its opaque glass front door and old-fashioned beveled glass windows was not what I expected. The raised structure seemed too plain a residence for the flashy Jenny Ryan I remembered.

  David and I sat outside in my uncle’s red Jaguar as we watched the darkened house for any sign of activity.

  “Any roommates you think?” I asked.

  “Only one way to find out,” David admitted and opened his car door.

  We walked slowly up the small path that led to the porch steps. I pulled her keys out of her big black purse and looked nervously at the neighboring houses.

  David put his arm about my waist as we stood before the front door. “Take your time. If anyone is watching, they will think I’m a date,” he whispered to me.

  I nodded and began trying the keys one by one in the lock. The third key opened the dead bolt on the other side of the door. I gently pushed the door open and we eased our way into the house. I could feel my heart clamoring inside of my chest. I jumped when David turned on a lamp just inside of the entrance. He shut the front door behind me and locked it.

  He reached for my hand. “Let’s take a look around,” he instructed.

  We went room by room, which did not take long since the house only had a living room, kitchen, bedroom, and a bathroom. I noticed during our search that the place was sparsely furnished and there were no pictures or artwork decorating any of the walls.

  “She didn’t have much,” I commented as I took in the bedroom.

  The small room contained only a twin bed, a round nightstand with a brass lamp on it, and a plain oak dresser. I walked over to the closet and opened it. Inside I found only a few cocktail dresses, a couple of pairs of slacks, and some blouses. She had only five pairs of shoes, and one small suitcase, neatly arranged on the closet floor.

  “Seems Greg didn’t help her financially,” I remarked as I turned from the closet door.

  “Greg was a cheap prick,” David grumbled and sat down on the bed. “Barely enough room on this thing for both of us.” He removed the gun from the waistband of his pants and placed it on the nightstand.

  I rested my eyes on the bloodstained sleeve of his white shirt and David noted my concern. He began undoing the buttons on his shirt. “Perhaps you should soak this tonight to help get some of the blood out. I’ll need to wear it tomorrow when we leave here.”

  As he put the shirt down on the bed beside him, I eyed the taped bandage around his left shoulder, the bruise on the left side of his chest, and the purple discoloration under his right eye.

  “Am I really worth all this?” I asked in a quivering voice.

  He got up from the bed and came over to me. He gingerly put his arms around me. “You are worth every scratch, every scar, every bruised rib, and every tooth implant.” He tenderly kissed my lips, and just as he was about to pull away, I placed my hands about his face.

  “Don’t stop,” I begged. “I need to feel like I’m still your Nicci, at least for one more night.”

  He stared into my eyes and smiled. “From now on you will truly be my Jenny.”

  He kissed me again and I felt an overwhelming surge of urgency grab hold of me. I wrapped my arms about his neck and molded my body to his. I felt his body recoil slightly as I p
ressed too hard against his left shoulder.

  I immediately broke free of his embrace. “I’m sorry,” I said breathlessly. “You’re still sore. I shouldn’t have—”

  His mouth quickly closed once again over mine. He eagerly started tugging at the buttons on the front of my long-sleeved shirt.

  My mind screamed with rationalizations against what we were about to do. We needed to stay alert and not become distracted. But I didn’t listen to my practical thoughts. I was being driven by pure desire. I needed to have David’s body next to me. I wanted to feel something normal and familiar in this surreal setting.

  “I want you inside of me,” I whispered into his ear as he dropped my shirt to the floor.

  I unzipped his khaki pants and pushed the material down over his firm backside until his trousers fell to the floor. He helped me slip out of my jeans and kicked his pants away. I ran my hands down his naked back and kneaded my fingers into his round buttocks. He undid my bra and ran his hands up and down my chest. He gently lifted me from the floor and eased me onto the bed. David’s eyes hungrily devoured my naked body as he climbed gently on top of me.

  He took my left breast in his hand and clasped his mouth around my nipple. I closed my eyes and raised my body to his, teasingly grinding my hips against his erection. David moaned against my flesh and drove his teeth into the tender skin at the nape of my neck. He ran his hand down the length of my belly until his fingers came to rest between my legs. As he mercilessly began stroking me, I wrapped my legs around his waist.

  “Yes, now, David,” I begged.

  But David lowered my legs from about his waist. “Not yet, my love. I plan on taking my time with you.”

  He started working his way down my body with his lips. Kissing my neck, shoulders, breasts, and stomach as he spread my legs wide apart and kneeled between them. He kissed my right knee and then his lips slowly made their way down my inner thigh. I groaned softly as I felt his mouth closed over the sensitive folds of flesh between my legs.

  As he brought me closer to climax, my body bucked with each tingling wave of pleasure. Then like an unstoppable force, the orgasm ripped through me. I screamed out his name and grabbed at the sheets around me. But almost as soon as my body began to relax, he increased his stimulation and quickly sped me toward a second and then a third orgasm.

 

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