Acadian Waltz (12 page)

“Do they have
any idea who did it?”

He shook his
head. “I had the police up my ass half the night asking a lot of questions.
They took her blood to their lab for toxicology screening to try and find out
what she was on. Nothing I’ve ever seen. Bad night all around.” He paused and
looked over at me. “How was brunch with your parents?” he asked, and then took
another sip from his coffee mug.

My stomach
suddenly curled into knots at the mention of brunch. I debated for a moment if
I should mention the incident with my uncle and Jean Marc.

“Brunch was
fine,” I told him.

John peered down
into his coffee. “Uh huh. Don’t try and lie to me, Nora Kehoe. Something
happened today. What is it?”

My heart rose to
my throat.

He grinned at
me. “I can just imagine what Claire had to say today after our dinner last
weekend.”

“Oh.” I sighed
as a wave of relief spread throughout my body. “Yes, she was impossible.” I
leaned my hip against the counter and folded my arms across my chest.

“Did she have
any lists?”

I squirmed and
tried to avoid John’s probing eyes. “Lists?”

“Oh, let me
guess. Was it reception or church lists? Or did she have the guest list already
started?” He rolled his head back and gave a warm, genuine chuckle that eased
the knots in my belly.

I forced my mind
back to earlier that morning and the brunch with my parents. After my kiss with
Jean Marc, the conversation with my mother did not seem so intimidating
anymore.

“Reception
list,” I stated as I unfolded my arms.

“Where?”

“I think she
said something about Gallier Hall.”

John nodded his
head approvingly. “Difficult place to get, I hear. Have to make reservations a
year in advance.”

“Mother has
friends. She can get it without the wait.” I made my way to the sink.

“Really?
Everybody who’s anybody has their reception there. It’s such a wonderful
historic building. Can you imagine if we had our reception there?” I heard him
say behind me. Then there was silence.

My hands gripped
the edge of the sink as I waited for John to announce his next plan.

“Tell your
mother we’ll take it!”

“We would have
to set a date,” I clarified without turning to look at him.

I heard his bare
feet slap against my kitchen floor as he went to the far wall where I kept my
calendar. Instantly, he was at my side, holding the calendar in his hands.

I watched,
feeling suddenly detached, as he flipped through the months until he came to
August.

“The beginning
of August?”

I stared into
his face and he smiled at me. His gray eyes sparkled despite their fatigue. He
flipped the calendar again.

“September? How
about the seventeenth.”

I lowered my
gaze to the stainless sink. “John, we’re not even officially engaged. You
haven’t asked me, and we haven’t worked out where we want to—”

He put the
calendar down on the counter and grabbed my hands. “Nora, marry me.” He placed
my hands against his bare chest. “Just say yes and it will all work out.
There’s nothing to be afraid of. We love each other.”

He felt so sure
against my hands, and for a moment I believed that John Blessing could remove
all the burdens from my shoulders. He loved me and he was good to me; what else
could there be?

“Yes, John. I
will marry you,” I whispered.

He put his hands
about my face and very tenderly kissed me.

“September
seventeenth,” he declared and stepped back from me.

I examined his
eyes and felt his strength flow into me. “September seventeenth.”

He gave me one
of his winning smiles. “Go call your mother and I’ll take a shower.” He glanced
down at his watch. “There should be some jewelry stores still open. Let’s go
and get you a ring.” He kissed me once more on the lips and turned away, heading
for the bedroom.

Wanting to
stifle my growing feeling of unease, I searched my kitchen for a distraction. I
retrieved John’s blue coffee mug and bowl of biscuit dough from the white-tiled
counter. When I placed the items in the sink, the memory of Jean Marc’s kiss
drifted across my mind. I shook my head, forcing the vision from my thoughts.
Without hesitation, I reached for the phone on the kitchen counter and dialed
my mother’s cell phone number. It was time to get back to reality.

*     *     *

Lou would not
hear of John and I shopping at any other jewelry store than his. The following
day, after I left work, John met me at Lou’s store located on Canal Street.

John was still
wearing his green hospital scrubs when he came running up to meet me at the front
entrance to Schuller’s Jewelry Store. He kissed my cheek hurriedly and opened
the door for me.

“I’ve only got
about an hour and then I have to get back for the evening shift, Nora.”

“We can do this
another day, John, when you have more time.”

He shook his
head and ushered me into the store. “No, I know exactly what we’re looking for.
Shouldn’t take us too long to find it.”

I shrugged my
shoulders and walked inside, not exactly sure what John thought we were looking
for.

When I stepped
into the front of the store, I spotted Lou talking with another man. The
gentleman’s back was to me as he and Lou stood before a long display case. I
noticed his dark, wavy hair, and the way his broad shoulders flexed beneath his
snug, black polo shirt. Something about him reminded me of someone I could not
place. When Lou nodded to me, the dark-haired man turned to face us, and the
sight of him made me gasp with surprise.

“Nora, John, why
don’t you come over here and say hello?” Lou proposed, waving at us.

As John pulled me
further into the store, the stranger’s black eyes took in my figure. I
recognized the square face and protruding brow, but the long white scar down
his right cheek was something I had not seen before. Around his thick neck was
a gold rope chain, and at the end of the chain was a strange medallion, a
square with a circle inside of it, and then a triangle inside of the circle.

I looked up from
the medallion and the man seemed to sneer as I came closer, almost as if he
were a demon coveting a righteous sinner.

Lou nodded to
the gentleman beside him. “Nora, you remember Henri Gaspard, don’t you?” 

Except for the
scar, Henri was identical in every way to his twin brother, Jean Marc. But
Henri’s eyes were different. They seemed darker than his brother’s, as if they
truly were made from something sinister.

“My God!” Henri
exclaimed. “Little Nora Kehoe.” His voice did not have the same velvety
smoothness as Jean Marc’s; it was harder and edgier, as if tinted with a touch
of desperation. “I haven’t seen you since…must be ten years at least.”

I held out my
hand to him. He took it, and I noticed the array of fine gold rings and the
expensive gold watch about his wrist.

“How are you,
Henri?”

“Doing real
well, Nora.” He turned and patted Lou on the back. “Been making my own way here
in the city for some time now.”

“I was sorry to
hear about your father. Jean Marc told me about his passing a few years back.”

Henri laughed,
more like a bellow. “Yeah, my brother the great, Jean Marc. Daddy always
preferred him to me.” He waved a hand covered in gold rings before me. “But I
don’t care. Let him have that smelly old fish business.” Henri’s eyes wandered
to John. “Is this the fiancé Lou’s been telling me about?”

John stepped
forward and held out his hand to Henri. “John Blessing.”

Henri took his
hand. “Glad to meet you, John, Hope you’re gonna take good care of our Nora
here. I’ve known her since she was in diapers running around Daddy’s pier with
my brother chasing after her.”

“Really?” John
turned and raised his eyebrows to me. “She never told me about that.”

“It was a long
time ago,” I admitted.

“Oh, yeah,”
Henri went on. “Nora was like the little sister me and Jean Marc never had. My
brother just adored her.” He smiled, or should I say leered at me, then Henri
turned to Lou. “Well, I’ve gotta head out, but I’ll be back next week to pick
up my order.”

“All right,
Henri,” Lou said as he shook the man’s hand.

Henri gave me
one last glance and then set his eyes on John. “Good luck you two.”

“Thank you,”
John replied.

I waited until
Henri had left the store before I confronted Lou.

“You know him?”
I asked, astonished that Lou had business dealings with the black sheep of the
Gaspard family.

“Yeah, for a
couple of years now. He brings in silly designs for gold and diamond pieces he
wants. Sometimes he brings in his girlfriends and buys them tokens.” Lou nodded
to the door Henri had just exited through. “He’s a pretty good customer, pays
cash every time.”

“Does Mother
know you do business with her former nephew?”

Lou shook his
baldhead and rolled his pale hazel eyes. “No, and you can’t tell her. I’ll
never hear the end of it.”

“Her former
nephew?” John questioned.

“Mother was
married to Etienne Gaspard before she met my father. Etienne was Henri’s uncle.
When she left Etienne for my father, Etienne Gaspard shot himself.”

“Your mother is
just full of surprises,” John quipped as he looked from me to Lou.

“It’s not what
you think, John,” Lou insisted. “Etienne Gaspard was a drunk, a liar, and a
hustler. He shot himself by accident while cleaning a loaded gun.”

“But Mother
prefers telling the story so it sounds like Etienne died of love for her. She
had me believing it for years until Jean Marc set me straight.”

John arched one
dark eyebrow at me. “Jean Marc? Isn’t that the guy your mother mentioned the
other night at dinner?”

“Yes, he’s
Henri’s twin brother,” I explained. “He runs the family business, Gaspard
Fisheries.”

“I’ve heard that
Jean Marc is the better half of the Gaspard boys, despite what Claire says of
him. I’ve never met him.” Lou patted my shoulder. “But Nora knows him real
well.”

“Not that well,”
I quickly corrected with a nervous titter. “He’s a friend of my uncle’s and his
boss, so I’ve seen him around Uncle Jack’s boat quite a bit,” I added, hoping
to avoid any further explanation of my relationship with Jean Marc.

John shrugged
and eyed his stainless steel watch. ”Look, I don’t mean to rush you, but, I’ve
only got an hour and then I have to get back to the emergency room.”

Lou held up his
hands to assuage John’s worry. “No problem. Come on in the back and we will
find something wonderful for Nora.” Lou started toward a metal door to the side
of the display counter.

John took a few
paces to catch up with my stepfather, leaving me behind. “Lou, I was thinking
of a pear-shaped, three-carat diamond to start, set in platinum.”

“Sounds good,”
Lou agreed as he moved up to the door and punched in a security code on the
keypad next to it.

“Then I thought
perhaps some baguettes,” John continued as he stood behind Lou, waving his
hands about as he shared his design.

I slowly
approached the two men just as a loud buzzer sounded and the heavy metal door
snapped open. As I walked through the security door to the back of the store
and listened to John describe his idea of the perfect engagement ring, that
nagging pain started up again in my stomach. Only this time it was stronger
than it had ever been before.

Chapter 9

Two weeks later,
I was sitting behind my desk at work, going through some figures for the
monthly reports, when Steve waltzed into my office, fifteen minutes late as
usual. I never minded and over the past few weeks, I had come to savor those
extra few minutes alone before my day began.

“Oh, my God!”
Steve gasped as he stood dramatically holding the doorframe of my office. “When
did you get that?” He pointed to the platinum three-carat, pear-shaped diamond
that was on the third finger of my left hand.

I looked down at
the diamond. “Oh, that,” I stated, nonchalantly.

“‘Oh, that,’”
Steve mimicked. He bounded to my desk in two steps and grabbed my left hand,
pulling it to his face. “We could have plugged the breach in the Seventeenth
Street Canal with that thing.”

I sighed. “Yeah,
it’s a little big.”

He looked up
from the ring. “Most women I know would be jumping up and down with joy,
showing this to every employee and patient in the hospital, and not have the
expression on their faces that you have right now.”

I yanked back my
hand. “What expression?”

“The one that
makes you look like you’re going to your gynecologist appointment.”

“You’re being
silly.” I directed my attention to the figures before me.

“No, I get it,
Nora.” Steve stepped back from my desk. “You’re not in love with this guy. Any
woman in love with a man who gave her a rock like that would be ethereal,
vibrant, glowing. You’re as pale as a ghost.”

“Steve, stop it.
I have a lot on my plate right now. In addition to planning this wedding, I’m
working full time here, getting ready for budget review next week, and I have
to start house hunting with John. On top of all of that, I’ve been worried
about my uncle.”

“I thought you
called him on Monday?”

“I did and he
says he’s all right, but I haven’t been to see him in over two weeks and I feel
guilty, like I should be taking care of him.”

Just then my
office phone rang. Steve, being his impossible self, grabbed for the phone.

“Orthopedics,
Nora Kehoe’s office,” he announced into the receiver. He listened for a few
moments then he hit the hold button. “A guy with a very sexy voice said to tell
you it’s Jean Marc.” He leered at me. “Two-timing on the doctor already with
the fisherman, you hussy!”