To My Senses The Nicci Beauvoir Series Book 1 (4 page)

I turned out the lights and
settled under the covers. As I lay in the darkness, my thoughts
kept returning to the conversation with David Alexander. Unable to
silence my restless mind, I got out of bed and went to my desk. I
took out the small, wire-bound notebook I had hidden away in a
drawer. Most of my life, I had kept a handwritten journal,
preferring the feel of a pen on paper rather than typing on my
laptop. Tonight, I felt an uncanny urge to write about David
Alexander. As I listened to the gentle rumblings of an approaching
storm outside my window, I opened my notebook to a clean white page
and began my tale.

Chapter 2

A week later, my spring
semester came to a close. I had just finished the last of my final
exams, and was enjoying a quiet evening at home, making notes in my
journal, when the ringing of my phone interrupted me. Reluctantly
putting down my pen, I checked the caller ID, and
groaned.

“
What are you doing?”
Colleen’s loud voice berated when I picked up. “Let me guess, nose
in a book.”

“
What do you want,
Colleen?”

“
I’m coming to get you.”
Colleen already sounded like she had been drinking…a
lot.

“
Colleen, it’s really
late.”

“
That’s no excuse. There’s
a party at Sammy’s.” Her voice became very muffled.

“
Colleen, what are you
doing?”

“
I was just trying to take
off my jacket. It’s a bitch to drive and remove clothing. So are
you coming or what?”

Now, this was what I called
an impasse. Colleen had already been caught drinking and driving
twice by the police. The second time, Uncle Lance had paid off the
judge to drop the charges. So I had to make a choice: let Colleen
kill herself on the road or take over the driving and go with her
to the party. I knew the only reason she was even considering going
to Sammy’s was to see Eddie.

“
Okay,” I grudgingly
agreed. “Just come over and I’ll drive us both to the
party.”

“
That would be great. I’m
almost out of gas, anyway.”

An overwhelming feeling of
disgust settled over me as I hung up the phone. The last place I
wanted to go was to a party, and the last person I wanted to deal
with was a drunken Colleen, or even worse, a brawling
Eddie.

What a complete waste of
time.
I dragged myself out of my room and
down the stairs.

When she arrived, Colleen
ran over the garbage can in the driveway. Thankfully, it was made
of rubber and no damage was done to her new BMW. I got her to drink
some coffee when she came in the house. While she was distracted
with the coffee, I took her car keys and hid them in the hall
closet. No matter what, I was making Colleen sleep it off on our
sofa when we returned home.

“
Why are we going to crash
Sammy Fallon’s party?” I asked on the drive over.

“
Not crash. Eddie invited
me. He got accepted into Tulane’s architecture school, so Sammy is
having a blowout party.” Her head was rolling around like it was
one of those toy animals on a spring.

“
How come I never heard
about the party?”

“‘
Cause you ain’t in the
know, dawlin’.” Colleen’s New Orleans accent got thicker when she
drank.

I frowned. “How much did
you drink before you came over?”

“
Plenty bunches,” she
giggled. “I found Neddie’s hiding place for the liquor cabinet
key.”

Neddie was Uncle Ned. He
was Hattie’s third husband, and the only one who ever really gave a
damn about Colleen. He had been looking after the girl for several
years, taking up the slack when Colleen’s own father dropped out of
the picture.

We arrived at Sammy’s house
to find cars parked everywhere. An expensive line of German sports
machines were scattered on lawns and even in the middle of the
street. It looked like half the city had turned out for Sammy’s
celebration.

I maneuvered my red Honda
Civic into a tight spot at the end of the long driveway. Sammy had
the largest house on the block in a rather exclusive neighborhood.
There was the most obnoxious pink fountain in the center of her
front garden, as well as two large stone lions at the entrance to
the walkway. Her tastes had not strayed far from her Bourbon Street
beginnings.

At the front door, we were
greeted by a man in a white tuxedo, carrying overflowing champagne
glasses on a silver tray. Colleen snatched two glasses and
disappeared into the crowd scattered throughout the front entrance
hall.

I declined the champagne and started to make
my own way into the throng. There were people there that I knew
from high school and college, while others seemed to be the same
hangers-on that I always associated with such parties. None of the
faces conjured any sense of friendship or regard for me, nor was I
particularly interested in starting some inane conversation with a
total stranger. So I just waved and smiled at the faces I did know
and turned in the opposite direction when anyone looked as if they
were coming my way. My strategy worked well for a while, until I
ran into the hostess.

“
Nicci! I am so glad you’re
here. Eddie will be thrilled to see you.” Sammy’s voice
reverberated off the pink silk wallpaper and white marble floors in
her living room.

“
Thanks, Mrs. Fallon. I’m
sure Eddie is around here somewhere…I’ll go look for him.” I bolted
from her and into the deeper reaches of her home.

I crunched, stretched, and
reached my way through the tightly packed horde of people, until I
finally made it to the wide French doors that opened to the rose
gardens and Sammy’s famous heart-shaped pool. To my amazement,
there were more people outside than inside. A disc jockey was set
up in the corner of the patio, playing a varied selection of disco
and rap music. Some of the individuals milling about were wearing
expensive evening clothes; others were dressed in jeans or shorts.
It was a hodgepodge of tastes and styles.

I couldn’t summon the
strength to fight my way to one of several buffet tables scattered
around the pool. The music was loud, the wine was flowing, and the
people were guaranteed to be obnoxious. What I needed to find was a
quiet hole to crawl into until Colleen had pooped herself out. I
forced my way back inside the house and walked around the
overcrowded foyer in search of the stairs.

I found the landing to the
stairs roped off with a No Admittance sign swinging casually back
and forth. Sammy was not as crazy as I thought. She at least had
the common sense to confine the party to the first floor. After
giving a quick glance around the foyer, I climbed over the
rope.

The second floor of Sammy’s
home was not as ornately decorated as the first. The expensive silk
wallpaper and marble floors were missing from the upstairs
quarters. I found only plush cream-colored carpeting, and walls
covered in pale green paint. The fixtures were minimal and the
decor was simple. The atmosphere suited me.

When I rounded the corner
of the landing, I noticed a light from behind a partially opened
door off to the left. I carefully approached and eased my head
inside to catch a quick peek of the room.

Inside, I found dozens of
bookcases filled with books. Unwittingly, I pushed the door open
and headed straight for the closest bookshelf to the door. I did
not notice the figure sitting in the room, until I heard his deep
voice.

“
It must be a great party
for you to seek sanctuary up here.” The accent was
familiar.

My face was red with
embarrassment and was just about to start uttering my apologies
when I suddenly recognized the man.

“
Oh, Mr. Alexander,
right?”

He sat in a worn leather
chair next to a square oak table with a brass reading lamp on it.
He was dressed simply in a white button-down shirt and casual black
slacks. A leather-bound book was sitting across his lap.

“
Nicci
Beauvoir.”

“
I wanted to get away from
the crowds for a while.” I pointed back to the stairs.

He stood up and put the
book down in his chair. “Don’t worry, I’m hiding too. Your secret
is safe with me.”

I breathed a sigh of
relief. “I hope you don’t mind my intrusion.” I gave him a curious
side-glance. “Why are you hiding?”

“
I just like to avoid big
drinking festivals.”

I chuckled nervously. “Well
then, you are in the wrong city. If someone catches a cold, people
down here will use it as an excuse to have a party.”

“
Yes, I’ve noticed.
However, I’m glad you made your escape up here.” He turned back to
his chair and picked up his book. “I am afraid Dickens was putting
me to sleep, despite the pounding of K.C. and the Sunshine Band
from the pool.” He motioned for me to take the red leather chair
across from him.

I remained standing by the
entrance. “I had no idea Sammy had such an extensive
library.”

“
Neither does Sammy. I
don’t think she’s ever been in here. I come here to read and get
away.” He cleared his throat. “Most of these books came from her
first husband’s efforts. His name is all over them.” He waved his
hand around the room.

“
I never knew him. I heard
a lot about him though. None of it good.” I tentatively made my way
farther into the room.

“
I’m sure Sammy would agree
with you. From what I hear, he was quite a character. There is
apparently a good bit of him in his son.”

“
I’m sure the only part
that Eddie inherited from his father is his, uh…temper.” I paused.
“My father used to tell me stories about the late Mr. Fallon and
the days when he would terrorize everyone in town.”

David Alexander snickered.
“Sounds like Eddie is definitely his father’s son.”

“
Eddie never really knew
his father. When we were kids, he tried to learn as much as he
could about him. The more stories Eddie heard, the less he liked
the man. After a while he stopped listening.” I watched and waited
for his reaction. His eyes showed not the slightest hint of
emotion. “These people are at their best when they’re demolishing
lives.” I added as I turned and walked to the window overlooking
the party below.

“
That sounds like a
warning,” he said, coming up to me.

“
They can strip a decent
person of their dignity in seconds, just like piranhas.” I forced
myself not to turn and face him. “But I’m sure you know that
already.” I started fingering the books on the wall next to the
window, trying not to show how nervous I suddenly felt.

“
You don’t care for this
crowd?”

“
Oh, it’s a long story.” I
shrugged.

“
I’ve got all night. I’d
like to know what I’m up against.”

I leaned against the bookshelf, took in a
deep breath, and let it out very slowly. Then I turned and gazed
into his secretive eyes, trying to decide if he was really
interested or just being polite.

“
What you’re up against?” I
shook my head. “My mother thought these people were her friends,
but when she needed them the most, they abandoned her. Leaving only
my father and me to care for her while she was battling cancer.
Their desertion haunted her until the day she died.”

“
I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He took a step toward me.

“
No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t
have barged in on you.” I eased away from him.

“
Not at all. In fact, if
you hadn’t come when you did, I might have thrown myself out of the
window and onto that relentless stereo.” He waved dramatically at
the window.

We both laughed, nervously.

“
It’s admirable for Sammy
to go to so much effort,” I confided. “I know she’s proud of Eddie
for getting into architecture school. He can be a bright kid, when
he wants to be.”

He shook his head and
folded his arms across his chest. “You don’t really believe that,
do you?”

I sighed. “I’m sure Sammy’s
money, more than Eddie’s brains, got him into that school. I just
hope it doesn’t cause more problems for him by creating
unattainable expectations.”

He finally retreated to his
chair. “Then this is not the first time she has done this sort of
thing?”

“
You know Sammy. Only the
best for her son.”

“
Well, an overzealous
mother does not explain the boy’s annoying outbursts and sulking
nature.”

“
It sounds like your
relationship with him is…strained.” I tried to control my
smile.

“
I just prefer to stay away
from the little bastard.” His voice was cold.

An uncomfortable silence crept into the
room. The music from the patio brought the pounding rhythm, like a
heartbeat, to distract me from the proximity of the man. I glanced
over to see that he was looking down at the book on his lap.

When he raised his eyes, he
caught my gaze. “So you are a lover of books?”

“
Yes,” I replied, relieved
to fill the space between us. “I love to read.”

“
Really?” He shifted in his
chair. “You don’t look like the kind of girl who would spend her
days locked away with her head in a book.”