As Good As Dead (Griffin Powell Book 4)

by Beverly Barton

  “No, not when we first met, but that was before I got to know you. We’re just now really becoming acquainted, and spending time with you these past few days has given me a chance to realize what a very special person you are, Jasmine Talbot. You’re bright and funny and caring. You light up a room with your effervescent personality. You’re a smart businesswoman who started out with nothing and has made a success of her life.”

  Jazzy starred at Reve, her mouth agape, a dumbfounded expression on her face.

  “I believe you’ve rendered her speechless,” Caleb said.

  “Heck, this is more than I’d hoped for. I thought maybe you were warming up to me.” Jazzy grinned. “But I had no idea you were beginning to like me as much as I like you. I know we’re very different, but—”

  “But we’re twin sisters who have quite a few things in common,” Reve finished for Jazzy. “The least of which is a biological mother and father.”

  Dr. MacNair’s receptionist, Lynne Swindle, called out, “Jazzy, are you and Ms. Sorrell ready to talk to Dr. MacNair? He’s waiting for y’all in his office.”

  Reve and Jazzy looked at each other, smiled and nodded.

  “We’re coming.” Jazzy reached out and grabbed Caleb’s hand.

  When the threesome entered the doctor’s small, cluttered office, he rose from behind his desk. “Have a seat.” He indicated the two nondescript metal chairs in front of his desk, then glanced at Caleb and shrugged. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stand. Sorry.”

  “No problem,” Caleb replied.

  Reve and Jazzy sat, side by side, their backs straight and tense. Jazzy perched on the edge of the chair while Reve crossed one ankle behind the other and placed her hands in her lap.

  “I don’t know how much y’all know about DNA—deoxyribonucleic acid—but it is universally accepted as the definitive means of identification. There are two methods currently in wide use, one being the RFLP technique, which is detailed and accurate, but can take anywhere from three weeks to three months to get results. Since y’all wanted quick results, the lab we sent the DNA samples to used the PCR method, which is polymerase chain reaction, and is now used more and more by law enforcement. The whole process takes place in a single vial that contains—”

  “I realize you find DNA testing fascinating, Dr. MacNair,” Reve said, “but could you possibly skip over the chemistry lesson and go straight to our DNA test results?”

  Galvin’s ruddy face darkened, turning beet red. “Oh, certainly, Ms. Sorrell. Certainly. I apologize for—”

  “Good God, Galvin, just cut to the chase will you!” Jazzy jumped to her feet. “Tell us the DNA test proved beyond any doubt that Reve and I are twin sisters.”

  “Uh, yes.” Galvin gulped. “The PCR test results, which are seen as a series of dots—” Jazzy growled. Galvin gasped when he realized he’d been about to go into another unwanted lengthy explanation. “Yes, the test results prove that Jasmine Talbot and Reve Sorrell are identical twins.”

  “I knew it!” Jazzy grabbed Reve’s hands and yanked her to her feet, then hugged her fiercely.

  Unaccustomed to physical displays of emotion, Reve didn’t respond immediately. She waited almost a whole minute before she wrapped her arms around her sister and hugged her. This was only the first step in unearthing the truth about their births. A part of Reve wished she’d never heard of Jazzy Talbot, that she’d never come to Cherokee Pointe back in the spring searching for her look-alike. But neither her life nor Jazzy’s could ever return to the way it had been before. She had set things in motion out of curiosity and a burning need to know the truth. Now their lives were picking up speed and spinning out of control. DNA confirmation of their sisterhood. Sally Talbot prepared to tell them what she knew, everything she knew. And Griffin Powell on the verge of discovering their mother’s identity.

  All Reve could do was move forward on the tidal wave and hope the truth didn’t destroy her or her sister.

  CHAPTER 18

  Farlan MacKinnon rose from the table, picked up his cup and saucer and carried it with him out of the dining room. Veda stood in the kitchen doorway and watched her husband leave without so much as a by-your-leave. It was as if she were invisible, as if he didn’t see her at all. She wanted to scream at him, demand to know why he ignored her. But she knew. Heaven help her, she knew. Something inside Farlan had died thirty years ago, but for many years he’d been able to pretend otherwise, to put up a good front for her sake and Brian’s. Not any longer.

  She wasn’t quite sure when he’d begun to withdraw from her. Ten years ago? Or had it been longer than that? With each passing year, her husband became more and more of a stranger to her. And there was nothing she could do about it. The old threats no longer worked. She had lost her power over him. She couldn’t threaten to take Brian away from him. Brian was an adult; he’d been of legal age for over twenty years. She couldn’t threaten to deny her husband sex because he was no longer interested. And although she could still threaten to commit suicide, that hollow threat had long since lost its potency. Sometimes she wondered if Farlan wouldn’t be happier if she was dead.

  Abra came up behind Veda and asked, “Should I clear away the breakfast dishes now, Miss Veda?”

  “Yes, certainly. Mr. MacKinnon and I are finished. And both Mr. Brian and Wallace had breakfast in town this morning.”

  Veda laced her arms over her chest and rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms. “It’s rather chilly this morning. I feel winter coming on. I hate winter. I miss being able to work in my garden.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Winter is worse for us when we get a bit older, isn’t it, ma’am?” Abra busied herself quickly and then she, too, ignored Veda.

  As she crossed the dining room, intending to go upstairs and dress for the day, Veda heard the front door burst open and a felt a gush of cool morning air. Peering out into the foyer, she caught a glimpse of Wallace as he came barreling into the house. Usually by this time of the morning, he was up on the mountain, at Genny Sloan’s nursery, where he’d worked most of his adult life. He’d been employed first for Genny’s grandmother, Melva Mae, and since the old witch woman’s death, by Genny, who had supposedly inherited not only Melva Mae’s greenhouses and mail-order business, but her spooky “gift of sight.”

  It wasn’t that Wallace needed a job to earn a living. Farlan provided well for his brother. Always had, always would. But Wallace loved working in the greenhouses, getting his hands dirty and being useful. And he adored Genny. Almost everyone did. At least those who weren’t afraid of her because of her special powers.

  When Brian had become infatuated with Genny a couple of years ago, she had tried to discourage him, but he’d been adamant about his feelings. Fortunately, Genny had never reciprocated Brian’s interest to any great degree and eventually married someone else.

  Farlan paused at the door to his study and turned to greet his brother. “Wallace, is something wrong? Why aren’t you at work?”

  “I called Genny and told her I’d be late this morning,” Wallace said breathlessly. “Hoot’s outside in his car waiting on me. He’s gotta go up on the mountain to check on some of the cabins and he’s giving me a ride.”

  Veda waited quietly in the dining room, almost out of sight, but able to hear Farlan and Wallace’s conversation.

  “That’s good of Hoot to give you a lift,” Farlan said. “Did you forget something this morning? Is that why you’ve stopped back by?”

  “I didn’t forget nothing. I come by to tell you the news. Everybody down at the restaurant is talking about it.”

  “What news is that?”

  Veda sincerely hoped there hadn’t been another murder. Cherokee Pointe used to be such a safe little town, practically no crime at all. But lately violent crimes seemed to have made up for lost time and were escalating at an alarming rate.

  “Miss Jazzy and Miss Reve got the news from Dr. MacNair. They passed that test they took,” Wallace said. “They’re twins all right, ju
st like everybody thought they were.”

  “And this is why you came back home?” Veda walked out into the foyer. “This bit of information isn’t newsworthy. You could have waited until this evening to report it.”

  “But everybody’s talking about it,” Wallace explained. “They’re asking how come Sally never told nobody there was another baby.” Wallace turned to Veda. “Sisters are supposed to be raised together, aren’t they? Me and Farlan are brothers and we were raised together. I don’t understand why—”

  “For goodness sake, Wallace, who knows what goes on with the likes of Sally Talbot,” Veda said. “Maybe she couldn’t afford to feed and clothe two babies so she gave one away. That sort is liable to do anything.”

  Wallace frowned at Veda, then looked back at Farlan. “Do you think that’s what happened? If Sally had told me she needed money to take care of two babies, I’d have asked you to give her some money and you would have, wouldn’t you?”

  Farlan set his cup and saucer on the antique walnut commode in the foyer, then grasped his brother’s shoulder and softly replied, “Yes, of course I would have. Haven’t I always given you anything you asked for?”

  Wallace thought for a moment, mulling over Farlan’s comment. A wide smile spread across his fat, wrinkled face. “Yeah, everything but that car I wanted. You told me I couldn’t have a car because I didn’t know how to drive.”

  The brothers laughed, each apparently remembering the time when Wallace had begged for a car of his own. He’d been nearly forty at the time and hadn’t realized he’d need to know how to drive for a car to be of any use to him. Farlan walked his brother to the door, went out on the porch and called to Hoot Tompkins, the manger of Cherokee Cabin Rentals.

  Veda wished she could have joined in their laughter, but horrid, unwanted thoughts suddenly tormented her. The harder she tried to vanquish the stupid, totally unfounded suspicions, the stronger they grew. It was all this silly talk of Jazzy Talbot and Reve Sorrell being twins. Redheaded twins. She vaguely recollected having seen Jazzy at a distance sometime in the past, but she and that young hussy certainly didn’t frequent the same social circles. Perhaps, if she’d already gotten a better look at Cherokee Pointe’s most notorious bad girl, she wouldn’t have been so startled by Reve Sorrell’s physical appearance. Of course, she’d managed to cover her surprise that Ms. Sorrell reminded Veda of another young woman, one she had tried so hard to forget ever existed. Not only did Reve have dark red hair, but she was quite lovely, with perfect features. Just like—

  No! You mustn’t torture yourself this way. It happened a lifetime ago. There’s no need to look back now with regrets and fears and uncertainty.

  How was it that Farlan and Dodd and Maxwell all knew Jazzy Talbot and not once had any one of them ever noticed the resemblance? But was there really that strong a resemblance? Had her imagination made her see a resemblance when there was none? Imagination or guilty conscience?

  She had nothing to feel guilty about, did she? She was not the one who had sinned; she had been sinned against. Dodd and Farlan were guilty, and Maxwell was, too. She had done only what she’d been forced to do, to protect herself and her son, to protect her entire family.

  Suddenly Veda felt exceedingly weak. Realizing she had become unsteady on her feet, she grasped the door frame and rested her head against the smooth wooden surface.

  Any resemblance was completely superficial, she thought, trying to convince herself now as she’d been trying to do since Reve Sorrell had come for lunch on Tuesday. Most redheads look alike in various ways. Besides, there was no way Reve and Jazzy could be that woman’s children. That evil woman who had nearly destroyed so many lives.

  She’d been forced to accept the fact that Farlan would never forget. How could he? And poor Dodd, who had confessed to Beth Ellen and been forgiven, but who had never forgiven himself. And Maxwell, who’d been drawn into all the ugliness. If he ever told anyone what he knew, what he’d done…

  Taking several deep breaths, Veda lifted her head.

  “Are you sick?” Farlan asked as he approached her. “You look pale.”

  “I’m not feeling quite myself this morning,” she replied.

  He grasped her arm. “Perhaps you should sit down. All this talk about redheaded twins has no doubt brought back some unpleasant memories.”

  “You promised that we’d never speak of her.”

  “Did I say anything about her? Did I mention her name?”

  “I suppose you and Dodd and Maxwell have talked about her from time to time, haven’t you? After all, the three of you were her champions. God, what fools you men can be. She was a tramp, Farlan. A prostitute any man could have for the right price.”

  “Believe what you will.” When Farlan glared at her, she saw undisguised hatred in his eyes. “Dodd and Max and I do not discuss her or what happened. And I do not wish to discuss it with you. Not now. Not ever.”

  “But you think about her, don’t you? About her and—” Veda stopped herself just short of saying aloud the one thing she dared not say.

  “My thoughts are my own,” he told her. “Those, my dear, you don’t own. You never have and never will.”

  With that said, he turned, walked back to his study and slammed the door behind him.

  At half past one, Sally Talbot finally arrived. But not before Jazzy had called to remind her. She’d even contacted Ludie and sent her over to Sally’s to encourage her aunt to keep her promise. Griffin Powell had arrived shortly before noon, and he and Caleb wound up playing several games of pool downstairs at Jazzy’s Joint while they waited.

  When Jazzy opened her apartment door, Sally hesitated before entering. And only after she stepped over the threshold did Jazzy and Reve realize that Ludie, who came in behind Sally, had given her old friend a gentle shove.

  “Come on in and have a seat, you two,” Jazzy said. She glanced at Reve. “See if anybody wants coffee while I call Caleb and let him and Mr. Powell know that she’s here now.”

  Both old ladies declined any refreshment. They sat side by side on the sofa, solemn expressions on their faces and wary looks in their eyes. Reve couldn’t help feeling sorry for them.

  Better save your sympathy, she told herself. Sally Talbot may wind up being the villainess in this piece. How will you feel if you find out she had something to do with your being thrown in the Dumpster?

  Jazzy waited by the door until Caleb and Griffin Powell arrived. Once everyone was assembled, Jazzy and Reve sat facing Sally and Ludie. Mr. Powell sat in a kitchen chair that Caleb had brought in and placed to the left of the sofa. Caleb stood behind Jazzy’s chair, his hands resting protectively on her shoulders.

  Silence filled the room.

  Griffin Powell cleared his throat. “Would you like for me to start the questioning?”

  Sally glowered at him. “I ain’t answering no questions for you. I don’t see why you’re here. You ain’t got nothing to do with this.”

  “Mr. Powell is staying,” Jazzy said. “You know he’s a private investigator who is working for Reve.”

  “He’s working for me and for Jazzy,” Reve told Sally. “She and I are sisters. The DNA results prove conclusively that we are twins.”

  Sally breathed heavily and nodded. “I never had no idea that there was another baby.” She looked right at Reve. “There was no way I could’ve known.”

  “We believe you, Aunt Sally,” Jazzy said. “Please, tell us what you do know. And start at the beginning, with my mother…that is, with your sister, Corrine.”

  “It’s just like I always told you—Corrine came home to have her baby. I knew she weren’t married and might not have even known who her baby’s daddy was. But she was my sister and I loved her. We was all the family each other had after our folks died.”

  “I’m not Corrine’s baby, am I?” Jazzy asked.

  “I know that Ludie’s done told y’all Corrine’s little baby girl was born dead. Pitiful little thing. And Corrine was mighty sick
afterward and half out of her mind. I didn’t have nothing to give her but some bootleg whiskey, so I kept her full of it so she’d rest. I—I was all broke up about the baby myself. I felt like it was my fault because I’d delivered the child and—” Sally swallowed down her unshed tears.

  “You wasn’t to blame,” Ludie said. “Them things happen. Weren’t nobody’s fault.”

  “I took me a walk in the woods to clear my head and to find me a place where I could cry without waking up Corrine.” Sally ran her gaze over Jazzy. “That’s when I found you. Out there in the woods. When I heard you squalling, I couldn’t believe it. But there you was, this fat, pink, healthy baby girl with all that red fuzz on your head.”

  “You found me in the woods, up here in the mountains?” Jazzy asked.

  “Yep. Somebody had stripped you down to your diaper and stuffed you in the hollow of an old tree stump. They’d sure enough put you there to die. That’s what they’d done.”

  “Oh, God!” Jazzy gasped. Reve reached over and clasped her sister’s hand.

  “I took one look at you and knew you was a gift from God. He took Corrine’s baby, but he gave us you. Whoever your mama was, she didn’t want you. She left you out there in the woods to die. But I wanted you. I wanted you from the minute I laid eyes on you.” Sally balled her hand into a fist and flopped her fist over her heart. “I knew in here that you were meant to replace Corrine’s dead baby.

  “So I brought you home with me and I gave you a bath and dressed you in the clothes Corrine had bought for her baby. I wrapped you up in that fancy white blanket she’d bought in Knoxville and I laid you in her arms.”

  “How did you explain me to your sister?” Jazzy asked.

  “I told her that you was her baby girl, that she’d just dreamed her baby died. And with you lying there in her arms, why wouldn’t she believe me? That night I slipped back out in the woods and buried Corrine’s baby. I buried her deep and put a big stone on top of her grave so the animals couldn’t get to her.”