Coldhearted

by Beverly Barton

  “You have family and friends,” Rick reminded her. “I know that no one can take a husband’s place, but you have Ryan and Devon Markham who can step in and act as substitute fathers.”

  “My child will be fortunate to have so many people love him or her.”

  She drank more of the cola, quickly emptying half the bottle, then she set the bottle atop a decorative coaster on the nightstand.

  “Feeling better?” Rick asked.

  “Much.” She reached out and took his hand. “You’ve been very kind to me, Rick. I appreciate your taking such good care of me. I’m not accustomed to being…uh, let’s just say that usually I’m the caretaker, the one looking after someone else.”

  “Then it’s time somebody looked after you, isn’t it, considering you’re pregnant and that you recently lost your husband.”

  She squeezed his hand, then released it. “I’ll be all right now, if you want to go.”

  “I can stay for a while longer, if you’d like.”

  She patted the side of the bed. “Sit and talk to me. Just for a little while. Talk to me about anything except Dan’s death and the investigation. Tell me about yourself. Your family. How you became a Powell agent.”

  Rick hesitated before sitting down on the bed. Being alone with her, within easy touching distance, might be a really bad idea. After all, she was a beautiful woman and even if her husband wasn’t cold in the ground, Rick sensed an attraction between them, on her part as well as his.

  “I was in the military for a few years,” he told her. “Then I bummed around the world, took odd jobs here and there, and finally settled back in the U.S. An acquaintance mentioned that the Powell Agency was hiring. I filled out an application, went for an interview and now I’ve been with them for nearly five years.”

  “Do you like your job?”

  “Yeah, I like it well enough. It pays the bills.”

  “I worked for the Peachtree Agency, a PR firm in Atlanta, before I married Dan. I’d worked for them before and during my marriage to Boyd.”

  “You gave up your career for the senator?”

  “When I agreed to marry Dan, I knew that he would need me at his side in Washington as well as when he came home to Georgia.” She stared at Rick. “Are you married?”

  “No.”

  “Ever been married?”

  “No.”

  “Is there someone special—?”

  “No. I fly solo. No emotional baggage. I hook up with somebody occasionally. Nothing serious for either of us. It’s the way I like my life. Simple and uncomplicated.”

  “And lonely.”

  “Being alone and being lonely are two different things,” he told her.

  “Yes, of course, you’re right.” She looked down at her hands folded in her lap. “I’ve seldom been alone and yet I’m often lonely.”

  Okay, time to leave. He was on the verge of making a fool of himself over this woman. If he stayed much longer, he’d kiss her and that’s the last thing either of them needed.

  He eased off the bed and stood. “If you think you’ll be okay, I guess I’d better head for my room.”

  She scooted to the edge of the bed. “I’ll be fine. I think I’ll take a long, relaxing soak in the tub and maybe afterward read for a while.”

  He walked backward a few feet, making his way to the door. “If you need me…”

  “I won’t. Not tonight.”

  Stop staring at her as if she were your favorite dessert.

  Rick smiled. She smiled. He turned and all but ran out of her bedroom.

  Dan had come to her after dinner that evening more than three weeks ago and asked to speak to her for a few moments. He’d taken her to his study and closed the door.

  “I need you to help me,” he’d said.

  “Yes, of course. You know I’ll do anything you need for me to do.”

  “Dr. Carroll has diagnosed me with the early stages of Alzheimer’s.”

  Amazed at how calmly he’d told her, she had tried not to burst into tears. He had put his arm around her shoulders. So like Dan to comfort her when he was the one who had been diagnosed with an incurable disease that would take his life away from him by slow, humiliating degrees.

  She had been shocked at first, then as the reality of the situation set in, she had been deeply saddened. During their years with Dan, they had been very content. He was a good man who had made a reasonably good husband and his great wealth afforded them a life of true luxury. And he wanted a child, just as they did, something Boyd Brannon had not wanted. Boyd had two children of his own and at forty-five, he hadn’t wanted to start a second family. Although they’d been disappointed, they accepted his decision because they believed he was a good man. And they’d had his children to love. But Boyd had proven a great disappointment. He had done something unforgivable. He had committed adultery. They couldn’t forgive him for such a grievous sin. He had sworn it was only once. A one-night stand that had meant nothing. But they knew that if a man cheats once, he’ll do it again.

  She’d had no choice but to kill him. He hadn’t deserved to live.

  And Dan hadn’t deserved to die, but she’d had no choice but to kill him, too. She supposed she could have waited until his disease had progressed, but dealing with the news of Dan’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis would have added undue stress to their lives and might have affected the pregnancy. She couldn’t risk anything happening to the child they had wanted for such a long time.

  When she had left him that night, alone in his study, she’d thought for sure she had convinced him that suicide was his only course of action. Oh, she hadn’t come right out and suggested that he kill him self. No, she was smarter than that. But she had made subtle references to how a man in his position might want to spare those he loved from going through hell with him, day after day, year after year.

  She had gone back to check on him later and found him passed out drunk. Everyone else had been upstairs asleep, so no one had seen her reenter the study. She had sat there, waiting for the right moment, watching Dan as he slept. As soon as he began to stir and mumbled in his sleep, she had slipped on her gloves and picked up the gun from the desk. It had been relatively simple to lift his hand and put the gun in it, then hold his hand in place and raise the gun to his temple. His eyes had opened for just a second before she pressed his index finger down on the trigger.

  He had smiled at her.

  She hadn’t smiled until later, after she had left the study and knew that she had solved all their problems once again.

  Nicole Baxter Powell hung up the phone after a brief conversation with her cousin Claire, then rolled over in bed and snuggled against her husband who had just tonight returned from his trip to England. It had been the first time they’d been apart more than a couple of days since they married last year and she had missed him terribly.

  Griff slid his arm under her shoulders and pulled her close as he lowered his head and kissed her. “From the frown on your face, I’d say that was business and not chitchat with Claire.”

  Nic sighed. “You’d be right.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You know that Ryan and his sister-in-law Jordan hired Powell’s to do a private investigation, to look into the circumstances surrounding Dan Price’s death.”

  “Yes, you explained all of that during one of our daily phone calls. Ryan doesn’t believe his brother would commit suicide.”

  “Well, it seems that Rick, just doing his job, asked Maleah to have Powell’s do a thorough background check on Jordan Price and he discovered some info that helped him form a theory about who might have killed Dan Price.”

  “And this is bad? Having a suspect has upset Claire?”

  “It’s not having a suspect that has upset her and Ryan, it’s who the suspect is that has them both very concerned.”

  “Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”

  Griff grinned at his wife. His sexy, irresistible smile issued her an invitation she wanted to ac
cept immediately.

  “Oh, Griff, the last thing I want to do is talk business on your first night home.”

  “Then just spit it out. The sooner we deal with the problem, the sooner you can get down to giving me my welcome home present.”

  She punched him on the arm. “Did you miss me as much as I missed you?” She planted kisses all over his face.

  He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her to arm’s length, holding her securely. “Who does Rick think killed Senator Price?”

  “His wife.”

  “Jordan Price?”

  “It seems he thinks she might be some kind of black widow because her first husband and a former fiancé and a former boss all died accidentally and she profited monetarily from each death.”

  “Sounds like a motive to me. What do Claire and Ryan think?”

  “They’re ready to fire Rick. They’re a hundred percent sure of Jordan’s innocence. Claire said that Jordan could no more have killed Dan than she could have.”

  “So call Rick in and send out another agent to replace him.”

  “But what if Rick’s right?”

  “If he is, another agent will come to the same conclusion and if that happens, maybe Claire and Ryan will change their minds.”

  Nic lifted her arms up and around Griff’s neck. “I’ll call Rick in the morning. Right now, I have something far more important to do.”

  Griff’s smile widened. “And just what would that be, Mrs. Powell?”

  She unbelted her robe, slipped it off her shoulders and tossed back the covers. Then she crawled on top of him, naked body on naked body.

  “Welcome home, husband.”

  Chapter 10

  Rick’s cell phone rang at five forty-five, waking him from a deep sleep. It took him a full minute to realize where the noise was coming from and to react accordingly. He rolled over, tossed his arm out and grabbed the phone off the nightstand. First he glanced at the time and then the caller ID before answering.

  Griff Powell.

  Something had to be wrong for his boss to call him this early in the morning.

  “Rick Carson here,” he said and braced himself for bad news.

  “Tell me how the Priceville Daily Gazette got hold of the information that Jordan Price has lost one husband to suicide and another husband, a fiancé, and a former boss to accidents, and even a father to a supposed heart attack.”

  Holy shit! “I have no idea,” Rick said as his mind tried frantically to assimilate this news.

  “I just got off the phone with Ryan Price. It seems the Daily Gazette’s publisher is an acquaintance and the man had the decency to forewarn Ryan what today’s front page headline would be. Want to take a guess what it says?”

  Rick reacted by immediately going into defensive mode. “I did not leak any information to the press.”

  “I didn’t think you did,” Griff told him. “Who, other than Mrs. Price and Ryan, did you talk to about Jordan’s past?”

  Crap! He’d told Lt. Haley McLain. But why would she go to the press with the info? What possible reason would she have to betray his confidence? Maybe it wasn’t Haley. But who else could it have been?

  “I spoke to a member of the Dade County sheriff’s department and asked her opinion about how she interpreted the info about Jordan Price’s past. I needed someone outside of Powell’s I could trust to use as a sounding board.”

  “Maybe you trusted the wrong person,” Griff said. “Find out and report back to me. But first, tell Mrs. Price what’s happened. It will be better if she hears it from you. If she believes that you are the source of the leak, I’ll have no choice but to replace you. Ryan is spitting mad and ready to fire you, but I assured him that the Daily Gazette did not get their info from you.”

  “Did he believe you?”

  “He’s keeping an open mind for the time being.”

  “I’ll call you when I have something to report.”

  “You have to know that once this information runs in the local newspaper, the media will bombard Jordan. I suggest securing Price Manor immediately. Get in touch with local law enforcement ASAP. Maleah and Holt will arrive by noon today. If you find that you need more agents, I can have half a dozen there by tomorrow.”

  Conversation over. The End.

  Rick flung off the covers, got up, and went straight to the bathroom. He shaved with his electric razor, something he did only when he was pressed for time, took a three-minute shower, and dressed hurriedly.

  No matter whether Haley leaked the news or someone else did, the end results would be the same. All hell was about to break loose. Jordan Price would be caught in the middle of some nasty accusations. And it was his fault.

  Someone called her name. Her eyelids flickered as she tried to wake. Suddenly bright sunlight poured into her room and even with her eyes partially closed, she realized someone had opened the blinds.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, still half-asleep.

  “Wake up, Jordan.” Devon approached the bed.

  As she sat up, the covers dropped to her waist, revealing the top of her blue silk pajamas. She looked at Devon and gasped. The expression on his face told her that something terrible had happened.

  “Take a look at this.” He handed her a folded newspaper. “It’s unbelievable that anyone could be so vicious.”

  Jordan took the newspaper, unfolded it, and looked at the front page.

  The headline read: IS JORDAN PRICE A BLACK WIDOW?

  Her entire body went numb. Even though Devon was talking to her, all she heard was the roar of her own heartbeat. She scanned the article quickly. Her past tragedies were laid out like a blueprint of murder and mayhem despite the fact that not one accusation had been made against her. But if she were John Q. Public, she would read this article and believe that the woman who had lost almost every important man in her life and had profited from each death was probably a cold-blooded murderer.

  “How did this happen?” she asked. “Who would have given this information to the Daily Gazette?”

  “It had to have been Rick Carson,” Devon told her. “He’s the one who had the Powell Agency dig up all your ancient history. And he’s the one who suspects you and I killed Dan. Who else could it have been?”

  Rick Carson? No, she refused to believe that he would deliberately hurt her this way. And it was apparent that whoever had leaked this info intended to harm her.

  Get real, Jordan. You hardly know Rick. You have no idea what he’s capable of doing.

  But he had been so caring last night, so gentle and considerate. She had sensed the goodness in him. Had it all been an act? Had there been an ulterior motive behind his kindness? Had he hoped she would trust him enough to confess her sins?

  “I don’t think Mr. Carson would betray a client,” Jordan said, trying to convince herself as well as Devon. “He has to know that if he did such a thing, he would lose his job.”

  Devon nodded. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense. But if not Mr. Carson, then who? No one in the family and certainly none of your close friends would ever go to the press with such a ludicrous story.”

  “Did you read the article?” Jordan asked. “It’s not a ludicrous story. From what I read, it simply states the facts as they are and leaves the rest up to the reader’s imagination. Only the headline implies that I murdered both of my husbands and my fiancé.”

  “Oh, God, Jordan, this is bad. Really bad.”

  “Don’t fall apart on me,” she told him. “Not now.”

  Her poor, sweet Devon. So sensitive, so highly emotional, so easily hurt. Losing Dan had nearly destroyed him. As his best friend, she always tried to protect him, but sometimes it just wasn’t possible. Now, with this new development, how was she going to keep the vultures at bay and protect not only Devon, but herself and her unborn child?

  She threw back the covers, got out of bed, and hugged Devon. He clung to her, doing his best to offer her his support while he drew strength from her.

  A loud
rapping noise gained their immediate attention and both turned just as the door opened. Rick Carson stood in the doorway glaring at them. Devon tried to pull away from her, but Jordan slipped her arm around his waist. She had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of, certainly not her relationship with Devon.

  “Please, come in,” Jordan said.

  Rick entered the room and closed the door behind him. He glanced at the newspaper lying on the bed. “You’ve seen it.”

  “Yes,” Jordan said. “I take it that you know all about the front page article. A rather damning headline, don’t you think?”

  “I haven’t seen the newspaper.” Rick crossed the room, reached out, and picked up the Priceville Daily Gazette. He cringed when he read the headline. “Son of a bitch,” he murmured under his breath.

  “If you hadn’t seen this morning’s paper, then how did you know about the article?” Devon asked.

  “My boss, Griffin Powell, telephoned me. It seems that the publisher of the Daily Gazette contacted Ryan earlier this morning to warn him about the article, and Ryan called Griff.”

  Jordan looked him square in the eye, hoping that she could tell if he was lying to her. “I’m going to be as brutally honest in asking you a pointed question as you were with me a couple of days ago.”

  He nodded.

  “Did you leak the information about my past to the press?”

  “No, I did not.”

  She released a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding and then swallowed the lump of tension in her throat. Heaven help her if she was wrong, but she believed him. “It’s only a matter of time before the phones will start ringing off the hook and the media swarms the house. We have to do something—”

  “It’s being done,” Rick said. “I’ve ordered the gates at the front entrance to be closed and no one allowed onto the private drive without permission from either you or me. I’ve put in a call to Sheriff Corbett. We’ll need some deputies to keep order at the gate. Two more Powell agents will arrive by noon today. And I woke your assistant and told her what’s happening so she can take care of the phone calls.”