Sacrifice (6 page)

After lunch, Uncle Lance and I made our way down Royal Street. We peered into shop windows and took in the lively atmosphere of the French Quarter. Street musicians and artists were performing along the sidewalks in hopes of luring the scant number of tourists to deposit money into their open hats. Police officers and United States National Guard militia were still patrolling heavily up and down the streets. Groups of college kids dressed in dingy jeans and grime soaked T-shirts walked the streets carrying large go cups filled with exotic alcoholic blends. Thereby combing their altruistic efforts, gutting and rebuilding local hurricane ravaged homes, with a little old-fashioned French Quarter fun.

Dozens of stores had re-opening banners hanging out in front of them. While many restaurants had placed shortened menus on blackboards standing outside on the sidewalks to let potential patrons know what items were being offered in these post-Katrina times.

Uncle Lance’s cell phone started ringing as we walked along the street. Well, actually it didn’t ring. It was playing some hip hop ring tone that made more than one pair of eyes give the older man a strange look.

“
Beverly downloaded that into my phone,” he admitted as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. “I don’t even know what they call it and I have no idea how to get rid of it.” He answered the call. “Hello?” he said into the phone.

I watched how his face lit up when he spoke. “Bevie! I was just talking about you to my niece.” He listened for a moment and held out the phone in front of me. “Bevie, I’m going to put you on speaker so my niece, Nicci, can listen in.” He hit a button and Beverly’s trill voice came out of the phone’s small speaker.

“
I looked into the name and date you gave me, Lancie,” Beverly said.

I leaned in closer to my uncle and raised my eyebrows. “Lancie?” I whispered, grinning.

Uncle Lance covered the phone with his hand. “She can call me whatever she likes,” he insisted. “As long as she gives us what we need.” He then lifted his hand from the phone and began to listen to what Beverly had to say.

“
I pulled the autopsy report like you asked me to do, Lancie. The coroner’s findings were just like you said. Death was the result of a single gunshot wound to the back of the head. There is also a physical description of the body and some distinguishing marks listed in the report. And there is a picture of a man’s half covered face stapled on the front of the file.”

“
Beverly, this is Nicci,” I stated into the phone. “Could you please read the description of the body and the distinguishing marks to me? Any scars, in particular. I’m looking for certain scars David had on his body.”

“
A well-nourished thirty six year old male with brown hair and green eyes,” Beverly began. “Approximately six foot one with a single gunshot wound to the right rear occipital region. There is an old surgical scar to the lower right abdomen, probable appendectomy. Scars noted on the back of the right hand, left neck, and the right shoulder.” She paused. “The report says the right shoulder scar looked like an old gunshot wound.”

“
Gunshot wound?” I mouthed silently to my uncle.

Uncle Lance gave me a concerned glance.

“
David had a scar on his right cheek. Is there any mention of that in the report, Beverly?” I quickly inquired.

“
Nope, that’s it,” she answered. “I also checked the logs for other gunshot victims brought in on the date you gave me, August 27, 2003. But there were no other victims brought into the morgue that day. Is that all you needed?”

I was not able to speak. I felt as if the world had opened up beneath my feet and was about to swallow me whole.

“
Bevie, I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me. You’re the best,” Uncle Lance hastily declared as he placed a supportive hand on my shoulder.

“
So are we still on for this weekend, Lancie?” Beverly asked, sounding like an excited teenager.

“
You bet,” Uncle Lance replied. “I’ll see you at the Hotel Monteleone on Friday night.”

Beverly squealed into the phone. I damn near jumped out of my shoes at the sound of her excitement.

“
I can’t wait. Gotta go,” Beverly said and then quickly hung up the phone.

Uncle Lance put his phone back in his trouser pocket. “You all right?”

I noted my uncle’s worried gaze. “David didn’t have any bullet wound scars. He had gray eyes, not green. And he didn’t have a scar on his lower right abdomen. The man described in that autopsy report is not David Alexander.”

“
Yeah, I got that impression as well. Are you sure you want to go on with this, Nicci? And you realize that this doesn’t prove anything.” He softened his voice slightly and added, “They could have just messed up the autopsy. Things get missed when people get busy.”

“
Beverly just told us that David was the only gunshot victim recorded that day. Besides, Uncle Lance, it’s Hammond Louisiana. There are not a lot of murders in that town. I seriously doubt they accidentally missed the scar on his right cheek and added scars from someone else in that report. Scars and tattoos are important details for identification. They usually try to get those right to avoid confusion.”

“
We still have some more digging to do,” Uncle Lance admitted.

“
More digging?” I questioned.

“
We still have to check all of the hospitals in that parish. I have a friend in the police department who can pull up all gunshot victims admitted to Tangipahoa Parish hospitals on August 27, 2003. All right?”

“
Yeah…sure,” I stammered still reeling from what Beverly had just told us. “Uncle Lance, what in the hell is going on?” I asked as I stared into his face.

“
I don’t know, Nic.” He frowned slightly and then shook his head. “To tell you the truth, I’m really taken aback by all of this. I can only imagine what you are thinking right now.”

I scanned the busy French Quarter street surrounding us. “All that keeps running around in my head is that if something did happen to David, he couldn’t get back to me because he had some type of debilitating injury, or he never wanted to find me in the first place. Maybe I was wrong about him.”

“
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. “And 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 out as he started down the sidewalk. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

Chapter
Four

We arrived home 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 as he stepped 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 demanded as he 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,” I told him, trying to sound sincere.

“
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 as he appeared on 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 only 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 called out to me while trying to ignore his brother.

Uncle Lance grinned and 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 paused and 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 scolded beside me. “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?”

As I searched his dark blue eyes, I realized 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 grabbed my hand, pulling me away from my thoughts. “Are you coming?”

I smiled up at him. “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.