Read Online To My Senses The Nicci Beauvoir Series Book 1 by Alexandrea Weis - Free Book Online Page B

rug, the room always reminded me of a hot
fudge sundae.
    Hattie pointed to a
painting hanging on the far wall. “I paid a pretty penny for
it.”
    It was of St. Anthony’s
Garden behind Saint Louis Cathedral. There were vibrant hues of
blue, green, brown, and gray interwoven throughout the piece. I
moved closer and inspected the work in detail.
    The painting reminded me of
David, in a way. Bold on the surface, but once you looked beyond
the swirl of showy colors, you discovered a more expressive and
complex work of art.
    Hattie was jabbering away
about the party and the showing—who was there and not there—when a
male voice broke into her ramblings.
    “ I still don’t know why you
wanted that thing,” Uncle Ned chided.
    Ned Vasterling was an
attorney who had met Hattie many years ago at a Mardi Gras ball. He
was tall, thin, and had a full head of gray hair. Uncle Ned also
had a very easygoing manner. In fact, nothing ever seemed to
fluster him. I’d never seen him angry with anyone, except
Colleen.
    “ Hello, Nicci.” He kissed
my cheek. “She brought you over to see it, huh?”
    “ Afraid so, Uncle
Ned.”
    “ That thing cost me a small
fortune, but Hattie had to have it.” He gestured to the painting.
“I don’t know anything about art, but I liked the guy who painted
it.”
    “ You met him? The artist, I
mean.” I waited for his reaction.
    “ Yes, my dear,” Hattie
jumped in. “He was that gigolo of Sammy’s from Myra Chopin’s
debutante party. Likable fellow. He had an odd sense of humor,
though.”
    “ His humor wasn’t that
perverse, Hattie.” Ned rolled his tired brown eyes. “He told me
about his work and we spoke for a good while. He was a very
intelligent and well educated man. He told me he had studied art at
some very prestigious schools. I liked him.”
    It was a high compliment.
    “ He was rather good
looking,” Colleen spoke up. “I mean, if you like that
type.”
    Hattie shook her head at
her daughter. “Colleen, you’re taste in men leaves a lot to be
desired.”
    “ At least I’m not on my
third husband,” Colleen mumbled.
    “ Can you two please not do
this tonight,” Ned pleaded. “Nicci has come here to see the
painting, not listen to the two of you fight, again.”
    The two women were
notorious up and down First Street for their rows.
    “ It’s a wonderful painting,
Aunt Hattie,” I insisted, hoping to change the subject. “I think
the artist is very talented.”
    “ Well, talent or not, he
only got the showing because of the good graces of Sammy,” Hattie
reflected, wiping her hands on her apron. “Otherwise, he would be
just another artist hanging out at Jackson Square.”
    “ Hattie, Samantha Fallon
probably has been more than compensated for her little venture with
this man.” My uncle winked at me.
    Hattie blushed. “Neddie!
You shouldn’t even talk about such things.”
    I lowered my eyes to the
floor and tried desperately not to laugh.
    “ I’m going back to my
crabs.” Hattie turned to Colleen and grabbed her arm. “Come on,
Colleen. Back to work.” She then dragged a reluctant Colleen out of
the room.
    “ Not crabs again,” Uncle
Ned moaned. “I used to love stuffed crabs, now I have nightmares
about them.”
    I did start to laugh then,
wondering how the poor man had managed living day in and day out
with Hattie and Colleen. Lesser men would have been driven to
homicide years ago.
    I gazed up at the painting,
once more. I analyzed the curve of the paint on the canvas,
following the traces of the paintbrush throughout the piece. I
thought about the hands that had painted those waves of color. I
remembered the way those same hands had touched me that day in the
French Quarter.
    “ You like it?” Ned
voiced.
    “ Yes.” I cleared the
memories from my head. “I like the colors best. It reminds me of
something. I guess all paintings do that.”
    Ned took a seat on the plush cherry sofa and
pulled out his pipe.
    I sat down next to