Recovery (15 page)

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.”

I frowned at him. “Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you, Uncle Lance? But I do agree with you that this is my decision and I will not let anyone chase me away.” I turned to my father. “I have to stay and help find this killer. I’ll never have peace until I do.”

My father’s eyes swept angrily over to Uncle Lance. “Then you’d better go and get us a hell of a lot more guns.”

“That won’t help,” said a voice from behind.

All three of us turned to see Dallas clinging to the doorway. He still had on the same bloodstained brown slacks he had worn home from the hospital. He had his sling on his left arm and bruises could be seen peeking out over the large bandage on his chest. His swollen face was pale and sweaty.

I immediately went to his side. “You shouldn’t be up,” I scolded as I placed an arm about his waist.

He put his good arm around me and I helped him to the couch. “Thank you, sweet cheeks, but I’ve had a lot worse than this.”

He sat down and it took him a minute to catch his breath. Then he gazed up at my father. “Nicci is right. We need to flush out the killer here. The car accident proves that we are close; now all we have to do is push this person over the edge. Val’s party is this weekend, and I’m going to make sure we put on quite a show. It should be all we’ll need to provoke the killer.” He stopped and took in painful breath. “After that I’ll take Nicci to her house Hammond. I’m pretty sure the killer will come there after us. Either way, the idea of the two of us alone in the country will be hard to resist.”

“When did you decide on that plan?” I asked.

“When I was lying in the emergency room. I realized that we were getting to whoever killed David, but we needed something to force their hand.”

“And what do you want me and Lance to do?” my father asked.

“You and Lance will stay here. It would be too hard for me to protect all of you in Hammond. And in the city, there are a lot of places people can hide and hurt any one of us. We have a better chance of catching this person out in the open countryside.”

“Dallas, I will not go along with this,” my father objected, raising his voice.

I searched my father’s worried green eyes and then nodded. “Dallas is right. In Hammond we have a better chance, and there you and Uncle Lance won’t be in danger. I couldn’t stay here thinking I put the two of you at risk.”

“But here we can help to protect you,” Uncle Lance argued. “Better odds here. Four against one.”

Dallas grimaced as he tried to get more comfortable on the couch. “Not unless the killer decides to pick us off one at a time until Nicci is all alone.”

“Maybe we should all go to Hammond?” my father persisted.

I got up from the couch, went over to my father, and took his hand. “No, Dad. Dallas will take care of me.”

“Bill, she can take care of herself,” Dallas said from behind me. “You know that.”

I saw my father’s eyes slowly sink in resignation. “So when will you leave?” he asked, his voice shaky.

“The day after Val’s party,” Dallas replied. “I want all eyes at the party to see that I’m hurt.” He struggled to stand up. “We need someone to quickly spread the news that I was badly injured and that Nicci and I are going to Hammond for my recovery.”

Uncle Lance and my father turned to each other and spoke in unison, thinking as one. “Hattie!” they exclaimed.

Dallas grinned. “Exactly.”

“It makes sense,” Uncle Lance agreed. “But are you going to be able to protect her in Hammond?”

Dallas looked over at me. “Yes, Lance. This person doesn’t know who they’re dealing with. They think I’m an architect.”