Sacrifice (17 page)

“
But you told me Simon let you leave because of those files you had kept on all of your assignments with him. You said it was your way of guaranteeing nothing happened to you after you left Simon’s employ.”

He stopped pacing and turned to me. “David always warned me about leaving Simon. He’s the one who encouraged me to keep those files. Simon never liked to let anyone go unless he was forced to. I thought I was being smart, but it seems Simon was being smarter.” Dallas took a step toward the love seat. “That may be part of the reason why he wanted you in on this Caston business. He knows that wherever you are, David will be close by.” He glared down at me. “I need to see David, Nicci. We need to talk.”

I stood up next to him. “Fight or talk? There’s a difference Dallas.”

“
There’s nothing to fight about,” Dallas insisted, raising his voice. “Before you can decide which one of us you want, we need to deal with Simon.”

“
So you’re not angry?” I asked, sounding surprised.

“
How can I be angry? David’s alive. No matter my feelings for you, I’m happy he’s alive. He was my friend, and I hope he can be that again.” He took a step back from me. “I guess you got your secret wish after all, Nicci. Now what are you going to do?”

I moved closer to him, but he turned his face away from me.

“
Tell me where he is and I will go and see him right now,” he said in a low voice.

“
I’ll go with you.”

“
No.” He shook his head. “We both can’t be seen heading over to his place. And we need to see each other without you present. There are things we need to discuss; things that cannot be said if you are there.”

“
I understand. He’s staying at 1012 Royal.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the key. “Here, he gave me this earlier. He said to use this to open the street gate that leads to the courtyard. He’s in the carriage house in the back,” I instructed as I handed him the key.

Dallas took the key from me. “I assume he gave you this for a reason.”

“
I have three days to make up my mind about him. After that he said he would leave me alone for good.”

Dallas looked down at the key in his hand. “He doesn’t waste any time.”

I placed my hand on his arm. “Dallas, I don’t know what to say. Since last night everything has been a blur for me. I wanted to tell you, but how could I? I wasn’t even sure it really happened until I saw David at the coffee shop this morning.”

He gently removed my hand from his arm. “It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. Now we have to make sure we all get out of this alive.” He walked through the doorway and down the hallway.

When I heard the back door by the kitchen slam closed, I felt my body sag with regret. I fought back the lump that was forming in my throat. Dallas had been good to me. If David had not returned I was sure I would have eventually married him. Never before in my life had I felt such elation and bitter sorrow at the same time. My happiness at finding David alive had hurt Dallas, and I had never wished to cause Dallas any pain. We had shared so much; we had tried so hard. But like the waitress had said, we cannot chose who we love. We can only love and be damned for the choices that we make.

***

I spent the next hour nervously pacing around the house. My mind kept filling with scenario after scenario. Dallas punching David, or David punching Dallas, or someone running to the kitchen for a knife while the other man went for a hidden gun. After I had butchered each of the men in more ways than a John Carpenter horror movie, I walked into Val’s gourmet kitchen. I went past the two convection ovens and built-in refrigerator to Val’s imported coffee maker. I figured a cup of coffee would help bolster my weary body. I found the pot of coffee I had made earlier that morning and poured myself a cup. I decided to go outside to the courtyard and try to distract my mind with the busy sounds of the Quarter.

As I stepped out the back door, Val’s quaint courtyard came into view. Red and white azaleas had been planted in flowerbeds at the bottom of the high red-bricked garden walls. Above the walls, the second floor porches of the home cast long shadows on the brick paved courtyard floor. To the rear of the property, the carriage house had been painted the same color of gray as the main house and had two flickering gas lamps located on either side of the front entrance.

I sat down at a black wrought iron table, located close to the street entrance, and listened to the bustling French Quarter around me. Beyond the garden walls I could hear the rumble of heavy trucks passing by on the street while echoes of laughter filled conversations hovering about in the warm, humid air.

In that instant, I was keenly aware of the world around me. Everything smelled sweeter and the colors of the greenery in Val’s meticulously groomed gardens appeared brighter. Even the bustling of the city around me felt more alive than ever before.

I curled my hands around my coffee mug and smiled. I had lost something when David had died. And as I flashed back to our meeting from the night before, I realized what I had been missing. Life. Not the everyday reality that we all struggle to hold on to, but the subtle vibration that exists around us and fills our hearts with wonder. I had lost the magic of life when David had died, and in that moment all my wonder and excitement for the world had returned. I guess sometimes it takes another’s love to awaken a dormant life from the numbing act of existing to the fulfilling art of living.

“
Well, hello there,” a deep voice called out, intruding on my thoughts.

I careened my head around to look down the short alleyway that lead to the street entrance. There, standing in front of the old iron gate, was Greg Caston.

My throat tightened. “Greg?” I stood from the chair. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to call.” I approached the dark alley.

“
I wanted to see you again.” He held up a white bag in his hands. “I figured you might be hungry so I brought beignets from Café Du Monde.”

I walked down the short alley and opened the heavy gate. “I’m flattered Greg, but I’m really not comfortable with you just dropping by whenever you like,” I explained as I glanced around the street, feeling suddenly vulnerable without Dallas close by.

He put his hand on the gate, pushed it open, and took a step inside.

I was taken aback by his brazenness, and was about to reprimand him, when I suddenly remembered David’s plans and of everything that he had riding on Caston.

I moved away from the gate. “Won’t you come in,” I said as I waved him inside.

Greg smiled as he came up to me. “I’m so glad I caught you at home.”

He was dressed in a tailored black suit that flattered his trim figure. But in the light of day Greg Caston appeared older than I had observed at the party. His face was worn, wrinkled, and sallow. It was more like the face of someone who had worked hard for his living, and not the artistically sophisticated playboy he pretended to be. Like Dorian Gray and his revealing portrait, Greg Caston’s seedy endeavors were etched in the lines and hollows of his face.

I raised my head and stepped back from him. “Thank you for the beignets.” I took the white bag from his hand. “I was just having a cup of coffee in the courtyard before going back to work on my book,” I said, trying not to sound as anxious as I felt.

His eyes lit up. “Ah, the next Nicci Beauvoir novel. I hear there’s another set to hit the bookstores very soon.”

I nodded. “It’s called Unfinished Business and it comes out next month. But my publisher is anxious to get his hands on the rough draft of my next novel before I begin the book tour. In the publishing world you have to always be planning ahead to your next book.”

Greg laughed. “Harold Hamper always was a demanding SOB.”

“
I take it you know Harold,” I remarked as I started back toward the courtyard.

“
We shared an interest in the same woman once. She was a model for a well-known agency in New York. Harold wanted her, but I got her,” Greg recounted behind me.

I stopped and turned to him, feeling a little repulsed at how casually he had described his conquest of the woman. “And what did the model get?” I asked, smiling insipidly.

“
My undying gratitude,” he answered. “And a house in East Hampton.”

I shrugged. “Then perhaps it wasn’t a total waste of time for the model.”

He smiled, appearing more intrigued than amused. “You’re very feisty, Nicci.”

I walked over to the table and put the bag of beignets down. I picked up my mug of coffee and refrained from meeting Greg’s inquisitive stare. “Animals caught in traps are feisty. I prefer to think of myself as candid,” I stated as I took a seat at the table.

He pulled out the chair across from me. “Well, I find it very refreshing.”

I held my coffee mug to my lips. “I’m so glad.”

Greg motioned to the bag of beignets. “Aren’t you going to try one?”

I shook my head. “Perhaps later.”

“
They’re the best when right out of the fryer.” He leaned in closer to me. “But everything is better when served hot. People included.” He grinned and let his eyes momentarily hover over my bust line.

I gave him my best condescending gaze and then took another sip from my coffee mug.

He sat back in his chair, frowning with frustration. “I was hoping we could get to know each other a little better this morning and be able to talk away from the prying eyes of half the art crowd in the city.”

“
And are the prying eyes of half the city always on you?”

He leaned in closer to the table. “Sometimes. But considering my business, I’m used to it.”

“
The art business?” I inquired, raising my eyebrows.

He folded his arms across his chest as he stared at me with his dark eyes. “Being around Dallas August must have given you some insight into what it is I do.”

“
And how would you know of my involvement with him?”

“
I have heard that right after you killed that psychiatrist, you and August withdrew to Connecticut and were living together. He was building boats and you were writing books. Imagine my surprise to find only you and Simon at the benefit last night.”

“
Dallas August and I parted company a few days ago.”

“
May I ask why?”

“
I don’t like boats.”

“
So I shouldn’t worry about the former prized possession of Simon La Roy putting a knife in my back.”

I fought to keep the look of cool indifference on my face. “I can assure you, Dallas August is no longer my concern.” I took another sip of my coffee while trying to avoid the man’s eyes. I placed the mug on the wrought iron table before me and squared my shoulders. “If you wanted to talk, Greg, you should have called and we could have set up a more convenient time for such a meeting. You cannot just drop by and expect me to tell you all of my secrets.”

His eyes immediately lit up with curiosity. “I would love to hear all about your secrets, Nicci.”

I stood from my chair, feeling my tolerance growing thin with the persistent Mr. Caston. “What time will you be collecting me tomorrow tonight?” I inquired, fighting to keep my voice free of my mounting impatience.

He stood and nodded his head. “I’ll pick you up at seven thirty. The event is scheduled to begin at eight.” He paused as he stepped away from the table. “Tomorrow I have something very special to show you. Something I know you will appreciate.”

“
Well then, I look forward to our evening together. But in the meantime, Greg, I must get back to my book.” I motioned to the gate.

He smiled sheepishly. “Yes, of course. Forgive me.” He began to make his way across the courtyard. “I think you and I may have a great deal in common, Nicci,” he remarked over his shoulder.

I tried not to laugh as I walked behind him. “Really? And what would we have in common?”

He stopped and turned to me. “We’re both fighters. We’ve been struggling for respect all of lives. You’ve been fighting to be seen as something other than another beautiful face. And I’ve been fighting for people to see me as more than just another rich man’s son. To see me for what I truly am.”

“
And what are you, Greg?”

A devilish grin spread across his lips, highlighting the darkness of his eyes. “I think I’ll let you discover that on your own, Nicci.” He leaned over to me and whispered, “Think of how much fun that will be for both of us.”

I leaned back from him and kept my disgust for the man hidden behind my cool demeanor. “Thank you for the beignets. Until tomorrow,” I said as I waved once more to the gate.

“
Yes, until then.” He turned and headed toward the street.

I watched as the despicable man quickly walked down the alley. Once at the gate, he turned back to me and smiled. I waited until he pulled the gate closed behind him before I let all of the tension inside of me escape through my pursed lips. I took in breath after breath as I tried to relax my body. But just as I was beginning to feel comfortable in my skin again, the gate screeched open. I looked up to see Dallas marching into the courtyard.

“
What in the hell was Caston doing here?” he called out. “I came up and saw you two sitting together. I had to wait outside until he left.”

I waved at the white bag on the table behind me. “He showed up with a bag of beignets. Claimed he wanted to talk and get to know me better.”