Free Recovery by Alexandrea Weis

as a killer.” The idea of Sammy, dressed in one of her couture gowns holding a gun over David, was almost comical.
    “She didn’t have to pull the trigger, Nicci. She could have hired someone, like she hired David to seduce you.” He paused as he watched me for a moment. “And the woman who showed up at David’s gallery, the one who knew Flo Tyler?” he asked, heading down the street again. “She is your aunt too?”
    I fell in step beside him. “Auntie Val. Well, technically not family, but she has known my father and uncle since before I was born. She was a good friend to my mother and has always been there for me.”
    “I’m told Val Easterling is a feisty widow who is very well connected in your part of the world. She was the one who arranged for David to meet you at the engagement party she was giving for you and the shrink at her house on Lake Pontchartrain.”
    “Her former house on Lake Pontchartrain,” I corrected. “Auntie Val’s place was wiped clean off its foundation by a twelve-foot storm surge from Katrina.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that. Where is she living now?”
    “Val bought a place in the French Quarter.” I smiled to myself as I thought of the jolly woman who was like a second mother to me. “You’ll meet her at Christmas dinner. She always spends Christmas with our family.”
    Christmas. I pondered the coming holiday for a moment. How would the solitary Dallas August get along with my rather eclectic group back home?
    We walked on for a bit and inspected a few more decorated windows without speaking. I took in the tall gray buildings overshadowing us, the cold cement below our feet, and listened to the cacophony of the frigid city surrounding us. In an instant, my heart yearned for the towering oaks, warm sun, and the southern peace of home. Like the phantom pain from a missing part of you, my body ached to be where it had always felt whole.
    Dallas reached for my hand and pulled me closer to him. “And what of the former fiancé, Dr. Fagles?”
    I remembered the bulky man with the childish giggle and my insides immediately curdled into a sour mess. “Michael Fagles was an anal-retentive jerk who was more interested in running my life than letting me live it.”
    “But you humiliated him. Dumped him after your engagement party and went back to David. He could have wanted revenge,” Dallas stated calmly.
    I stopped walking and shook off his hand. “What are you doing?”
    He stared at me. “I’m looking for motives. It will help you to understand why I will do the things I do when we get to New Orleans.”
    My gut clenched. “What things are you going to do?”
    He leaned over and whispered into my ear, “You’ll just have to wait and see, Nicci.”
    Two hours later, I was loaded down with shopping bags from all along Fifth Avenue as we rode in a cab heading back to the hotel. I noticed even Dallas had a bag or two in his hands, having darted into a few stores when I was busy somewhere else. I figured his shopping bags meant that he had a girlfriend or two stashed away. I chided myself for entertaining the notion that Dallas August was not emotionally attached to anyone. What I knew about the man would fill a thimble, and it was obvious that he did not intend to ever let me know more than was absolutely necessary for the job.
    We were talking casually about our shopping adventure and watching the people on the street when Dallas quickly sat up and tapped on the cab divider.
    “Pull over here,” he ordered.
    The dark-skinned driver nodded and pulled over to the first available spot by the curb. Dallas reached over to the door and then turned to me.
    He took my hand. “I want to show you something.”
    I eyed him warily. “What?”
    “You.”
    Dallas glanced over to the cabbie waiting patiently on the other side of the bulletproof divider. “Wait here. We’ll be a few minutes.”
    The cab driver nodded, put the car into park, and left the engine running while the meter