The Secret Brokers (3 page)

Dallas said nothing and silence filled the line between them.

“I guess that answers that question.” Lance paused. “From what I know Gwen is smart; a bit of a loner, but has a great sense of humor. She is real tight with her old man. He lives in uptown New Orleans not far from my brother. He sold his liquor business to some big company a few years back for a boatload of cash. Gwen is his only daughter. His two sons joined the army after September
11
, and neither boy has had much contact with the old man or Gwen. Other than a love of Johnny Walker Red and a great body, there isn’t much more I can tell you.”

Dallas sighed into his cell phone, sounding exasperated. “What about friends, habits, and preferences? Is there a man?”

“Been at least a few years since she and Doug split, but I have never heard mention of a man in her life since the divorce. No friends that I know of—like I said, she’s a loner and keeps to herself on that farm. As far as the rest goes, you’re on your own, Dallas.”

“I guess that’s enough to start. I’ve got to make flight arrangements and get things settled here. I plan on being in New Orleans in the morning.”

“Let me know if there is anything else you need,” Lance offered.

“Keep your phone handy just in case,” Dallas insisted as he punched up his computer screen.

“Will do.” Lance cleared his throat. “Now if you don’t mind, I have a lovely, young, and very naked woman waiting in my kitchen for me to make some coffee.”

“I understand,” Dallas said and then he hung up the phone.

Dallas grinned as he thought of Lance and his hearty appetite for young, well-endowed women. Nicci had always told him stories about her uncle’s lustful ways. Nicci: her name in his head brought his body a renewed sense of emptiness. No matter what he did throughout the day, she seemed to creep into his thoughts like some long unanswered prayer. And now he was going to have to return to the one place where he had shared so much with her. The distance between them in the past few months had helped him to adjust to her absence…or at least he thought it had. To be thrown back into the same geographical location as her sent his heart into a tailspin. Everyone had always said time heals all wounds, but how much time would it take for him to feel like his old self again?

“Goddamn it,” he shouted as he threw his cell phone on the desk.

“Ya still in a good mood I see,” Cleveland commented from the office doorway. “I just saw that mafia guy leave, so I figured the meetin’ was over.”

Dallas started typing on his computer keyboard. “I’ll be leaving in the morning for New Orleans. Something has come up, and I’ll be gone for a several days.”

“N’awlins?” Cleveland folded his long arms over his wide chest. “Ya said ya was never goin’ back there.”

“Well, it seems I have a job there, so I will need you to keep an eye on things here. If anyone needs me, give them my cell.”

Cleveland walked up to Dallas’s desk and watched over the man’s shoulder as he typed a name into a search engine.

“Gwen Marsh?” Cleveland laughed behind Dallas. “What ya gonna do with her?”

Dallas spun around in his chair and stared at Cleveland. “You know her?”

“Know her?” Cleveland laughed once more. “Man, she and her former husband, Dr. Marsh, was some of Greg Caston’s best customers. They always came to the gallery for art shows and stuff. Greg Caston even tried to date the woman after her divorce, but she wouldn’t have nothin’ to do with him.”

Dallas shook his head. “And how in the hell do you know all of this? You were Caston’s security guard, not his secretary.”

“Dallas, do ya know what kind of small town N’awlins is? Everybody knows everybody else’s business down there. And Caston liked to parade all his clients ‘round like pampered pets on a diamond-studded leash. As far as Caston bein’ interested in the man’s wife
…
hell, any man would’ve gone after her. Damn fine woman, if ya ask me.”

“Anything else you would like to add?”

Cleveland shook his head. “Nah, just wonderin’ whatcha up to with Mrs. Marsh?”

Dallas turned back to the computer. “That is none of your concern.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll be my concern if ya goes and get ya’self mixed up with that woman. Ya gonna be gettin’ ya’self in a whole world of hurt tanglin’ with her.”

Dallas looked over his keyboard and asked, “What makes you say that?”

“’Cause ya do know she’s an animal freak. And ya know what animals mean, don’t ya?”

“I have no idea, but I’m sure you will enlighten me,” Dallas coolly replied
.

“Animals means bugs,” Cleveland illuminated. “And we both know how ya feel ‘bout insects. I’m just wonderin’ how’s ya gonna get near that woman without a can of Raid in ya hand.”

Dallas shrugged. “I don’t like bugs. So what? It’s not going to interfere with my plans.”

Cleveland laughed, a raucous deep bellow. “Man, do ya know what bein’ on a farm in Louisiana means? Everythin’ that can fly, creep, crawl, or walk will be out to eat ya skinny ass.”

“It’s winter,” Dallas reasoned. “There are no bugs in winter.”

Cleveland folded his arms over his chest. “There ain’t no winter in Louisiana, Dallas.”

“I think I liked it better when you called me boss,” Dallas quipped.

Cleveland ignored him, turned, and headed for the door. “I best be gettin’ to the store and buyin’ ya some Deep Woods Off and stuff, cause boy, ya gonna need it.”

As soon as Dallas stepped into the New Orleans International Airport terminal he could feel the change in temperature embrace him. Even when the rest of the country was being accosted by the brutal winds of winter, New Orleans still managed to stay balmy. He had left overcast skies and near freezing temperatures in New York, but as he made his way down Concourse B to the baggage claim area, Dallas had to remove his jacket and start rolling up his
shirtsleeves
. Slinging his overnight bag over his shoulder, he felt a slow smile spread across his lips. He was back in the city he had grown to love. Despite the outcome with Nicci, he still felt drawn to the quaint nonchalance of the people from the Big Easy. As he listened to a brass band strike up a familiar jazz tune from the end of the terminal corridor, he reflected on the adventures he had shared with Nicci in New Orleans. He had been through so many assignments, so many intrigues, but none had buried themselves as deep within his soul as the time he had spent in the Crescent City.

As Dallas approached the end of the terminal, he immediately spotted a familiar face.

“Dallas!” a tall, older man, dressed in an expensive dark suit, called as he held his arms out to him.

Dallas walked over to Lance Beauvoir and took the man’s hand. “I can’t believe Carl sent you!”

“I volunteered,” Lance happily chirped as he grasped Dallas’s hand and gave a reassuring squeeze.

Despite a lifetime of excess alcohol, five failed marriages, and a penchant for gambling, Lance Beauvoir always appeared to be the embodiment of youth. He had lived a reckless life by avoiding the family business, Beauvoir Scrap Metal, and had left all the responsibilities of family to his younger brother, Bill. His green eyes were always filled with a mischievous glint, and his underworld connections had saved Dallas from a wide variety of troubles.

“I’ve already gotten your car.” Lance handed Dallas a set of keys. “I pulled it into the garage on the second floor, right in front of the elevators. It’s the Red Mercedes E550 Coupe. You can’t miss it.”

Dallas put his overnight bag down on the floor as he took the keys from Lance “That’s kind of flashy for a handyman,” Dallas suggested.

“Carl wanted to get you something that would impress Gwen. He didn’t want you driving up in some go-cart of a rental car.”

Dallas eyed the keys in his hand. “I’ve gotten the impression from what little I could find on the woman that an expensive car would not impress her.”

Lance winked. “She’s a woman; an expensive car will turn her on.” He patted Dallas on the shoulder and nodded to the stairs that led down to the baggage claim area. “Let’s go get your bags.”

As the two men headed toward the stairwell, Dallas placed the overnight bag over his shoulder. “So, how is Bill these days?”

Lance nodded. “Fine. He and Betty have settled down into a comfortable life together. Shame you couldn’t make it in for their wedding a few weeks back. I know Billy would have loved to have had you there.”

Dallas hesitated for a moment before he spoke. “I, ah, thought perhaps it would be best if I wasn’t there considering everything that has happened.”

“Billy knows we did what was best for Nicci at the time. He may not have liked our decision to fake her death and give her a new identity, but he understands why we did it. As long as she’s safe, that’s all Billy really cares about.”

They walked on for a bit in silence. Lance gave Dallas a once over with his green eyes and then stopped walking just as the two men reached the stairwell.

“And she’s fine, Dallas. She’s as big as a house, bitching up a storm about her swollen feet, and buying up every pink scrap of baby clothing she can find.”

“It’s a girl?” Dallas queried as the ache inside of his chest kicked into his gut.

“They’re gonna name her Ellen.”

Dallas gave Lance a weak attempt at a smile. “I’m happy for them.”

Lance shook his head as he stared at Dallas. “I know how you felt about her—hell, we all knew—but trust me; watching the woman you love end up with a man that makes her happy is hard as hell, but it’s the right thing to do. The day I watched Nicci’s mother walk down the aisle to my brother, it damn near shattered my heart. But with time, I realized he was the better man for her. You’ll eventually feel the same way about David.”

“What’s done is done, Lance. I can’t go back and change the past. She was always David’s,” Dallas mumbled as he turned back to the stairwell.

“That’s what your lips may be saying, but it ain’t what your heart is telling you, Dallas.” Lance stepped over to his side. “It’s written all over your face. I’ve been where you are, and I know exactly how you feel, and no amount of booze or broads is gonna help diminish that hole inside of your chest. Just don’t make the same mistakes I did—
don’t
waste a lifetime preoccupied with what could have been when an opportunity for a different kind of happiness comes along.”

Dallas smirked
.
“What different kind of happiness, Lance?”

“It may not be the happiness you wanted with her, but it will be the happiness you need with someone else.”

“And what has it taken, five different someone else’s to help you forget about Ellen?”

“You’re not me, Dallas. Yours is that self-destructive kind of heartache
—that’s
why you bury yourself in a world where no one knows you and no one gives a damn if you disappear. But just because you stopped caring, don’t shut out the rest of us who still do care about you. You might miss your opportunity to discover that different kind of happiness when it finally does come along.”

Dallas took a breath as he eyed the frenzied faces of travelers darting about the airport terminal. “Yeah, well, these days I’m more concerned about keeping everyone else happy. Between Carl Bordonaro and the mountain of problems Simon’s death created, there really isn’t a whole lot of time in my life for anything other than this world I have buried myself in.”

Lance patted his shoulder and turned back to the stairs. “You never know, Ms. Right could be around the next corner, waiting to sweep you off your feet and send you headlong into your first divorce.”

Dallas shook his head as he followed Lance down the stairs to the baggage claim on the lower level.

“There is one thing I’m curious about, Lance,” Dallas commented as the two men emerged into the lower level of the airport. Dallas took in the large line of baggage belts sitting idle before him. “Why did Carl insist I handle this job?”

Lance shrugged. “He knew I spoke highly of you. He knows of your reputation for getting the job done no matter what. And after everything that he did for us last summer, he figured you owed him. Carl prefers it when people owe him—he feels it keeps them honest.”

Dallas leaned in closer to Lance. “Yeah, but I’m not the one who owes him here. David benefited from the
cleanup
at his place after he killed Simon’s henchman, Gerard. And Nicci’s the one who took on Jenny Ryan’s identity after the shootout at Greg Caston’s gallery.”

“And who is the one that directly benefited from Simon’s death?” Lance pointed his finger at Dallas.

“But as Simon’s heir, David, and not me, got all of Simon’s worldly possessions. I’m just helping all the people that would have been hurt by Simon’s death
,
by keeping his organization running until David can make other arrangements.”

Lance narrowed his green eyes on Dallas. “You and I both know that David has no interest in taking over Simon’s organization. He’s married, has settled into a quiet life as a painter, and is about to become a father. Such men were never suited to the lies and deceptions we surround ourselves with. When the dust settles, you will be the one left permanently running Simon’s little empire. Carl knows that, and that’s why he came to you.”