Coldhearted

by Beverly Barton

  “I denied the truth for so many years that lying started seeming like the normal thing to do,” Devon said. “I lied and said anyone who claimed I was gay was misinformed. I pretended to be straight. I even dated a string of lovely women until finally I couldn’t stand the subterfuge any longer and Rene agreed to go to social functions with me after you and Dan married.” He hung his head. “Those reporters have every right to have a heyday with this news. I wouldn’t blame them, no matter what they said or did.”

  “Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Rick told him. “Think about Jordan and what your and Dan’s secret has done to her.”

  “Rick!” Jordan glared at him. “How dare you say such a thing.”

  “No, he’s right,” Devon said. “I’m the one who pulled you into our web of lies. It’s all my fault.”

  “We can discuss who’s at fault, who’s to blame, and who’s guilty of what later,” Rick told them. “We need to be out back and ready to make a run for it as soon as Hart calls me. He’ll meet us down the block where he left the car.”

  Ten minutes and one teargas explosion later, Rick, Jordan and Devon made it halfway down the street when Hart caught up with them.

  “Keep going,” he shouted. “Time’s a-wasting.”

  They managed to get to the car before some reporters on the fringes of the crowd, coughing, wheezing and crying from the teargas, caught sight of them and ran toward the car. Just as Hart backed up the Lincoln, two men hurled themselves onto the hood, but when Hart whipped the big black car around, the intruders sailed off into the street.

  Sitting in the front seat with Hart, Rick glanced in the rearview mirror and his gaze met Jordan’s.

  That singular moment of silent communication ended practically before it began when Rick’s phone rang. Jordan grasped Devon’s hand, gave it a squeeze, and then closed her eyes as she said a prayer, asking for the strength to see this nightmare through to the end.

  When Rick answered his phone, Griff Powell said, “Maleah’s going to be all right. She’s out of surgery. Nic and I are at Erlanger in Chattanooga. We’re staying over-night and plan to see Maleah in the morning.”

  “That’s good news,” Rick replied. “Now if we can figure out who shot her and why—”

  “That’s one of the other reasons I’m calling. The deputies arrested a guy about an hour ago. They found him and his high-powered rifle in the woods. He shot Maleah from outside the estate.”

  “Are you sure they’ve got the right person?”

  “Reasonably sure. The man confessed. We’ll know for sure once the bullet is examined, but this nut-job claims he meant to shoot Jordan. It seems he considered it his duty to act on God’s behalf and mete out punishment. As far as we know, he’s not connected with her or her family or the late senator in any way, other than the fact he lives in Priceville.”

  “If this turns out to be on the up-and-up that means people we eliminated from our suspects list have to go right back on it.”

  “By people, you mean Devon Markham, don’t you?” Griff said.

  “Yeah.”

  “While we’re on the subject of suspects, I talked to Derek Lawrence and he’s promised us a profile to fit each of your scenarios by Thursday. Maybe one of those profiles will fit one of the suspects to a T.”

  “If only,” Rick said.

  “In the meantime, be careful. If we’re right, there is a serial killer among Jordan Price’s family and close friends, someone who has possibly killed seven people. He or she won’t hesitate to kill again. You’re not just investigating Dan Price’s murder now, you’re guarding Jordan.” Griffin paused. “And even though I know you don’t want to entertain the possibility that Jordan herself is the killer, you’d be a fool to totally discount her as a suspect.”

  Chapter 27

  Rick landed the helicopter at the Price estate Tuesday evening. A couple of Powell agents and a sheriff’s deputy met them when they disembarked.

  The deputy spoke to Rick. “Sheriff Corbett wants to talk to you, privately. He’s waiting down by the pond.” He hitched his thumb in the general direction. “Mr. Price and Mr. Keinan are with him.”

  “Sure thing,” Rick said. “As soon as I get Mrs. Price settled.” He motioned to one of the two agents, a fairly new Powell Agency recruit named Nix Elliott. “I want you to stay with Mrs. Price until I relieve you. Stay close to her and know exactly where she is and who’s with her at all times.”

  Elliott nodded.

  Rick explained the situation to Jordan, who simply said, “I’ll be fine. I’m home now. We’re safe.” She had slipped her arm around Devon’s waist and hugged him to her side.

  The poor guy looked as if he’d been through a physical and emotional wringer. But oddly enough Jordan was cool, calm, and totally together. Rick marveled at her ability to keep herself in check while taking care of others, in this case, looking after Devon.

  If only he could believe that she was safe here on the Price estate. But he couldn’t. If his suspicions were correct, someone she loved and trusted was a killer. The only thing he didn’t know for certain was whether this person loved Jordan or hated her.

  When they reached the house, Rick pulled Jordan aside. “I just need a minute, okay?”

  She looked back at Devon. “Go on in. I won’t be long.”

  Agent Elliott waited on the veranda while Devon and the other agent went inside the house.

  “Everything that I discussed with you, Ryan, and Steve Corbett this morning is to stay among the four of us,” Rick told her. “Understand?”

  “Yes, of course.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, you mean now that we know the man who shot Maleah isn’t personally connected to me or Dan or the other deaths, then Devon is a suspect again.”

  “I’m sorry. I know you love him and trust him, but—”

  “But you don’t trust him. You don’t even trust me. Not really.”

  He grabbed her arm. “Damn it, Jordan, why can’t you understand that if you trust the wrong person, it could cost you your life.”

  Trembling, she stood there and stared at him, but didn’t respond to his warning.

  “Honey, don’t do this,” he said.

  “Do what?”

  “Make me the bad guy.”

  “I know you’re one of the good guys,” she told him. “But so is Devon. I trust him as much as I trust you.”

  She trusts me.

  I want to trust her. And I do. Almost.

  When he released his hold on her, she walked away and went inside the house. Rick waited until Nix Elliott followed her before he left to find the sheriff.

  The late afternoon sunlight glistened off the pond’s smooth surface. Several geese floated leisurely, paying no heed to the humans. Thick, rich grass grew along the bank and wildflowers had recently sprouted in the field nearby. May in the Georgia countryside was fresh and green and vibrant.

  Steve Corbett threw up his hand and motioned for Rick to join them where they stood near the pond, obviously waiting for him.

  “Thank you for bringing Jordan and Devon home safely.” Ryan extended his hand to Rick and the two men exchanged a cordial shake.

  “You know that we found the man who shot Maleah Perdue, don’t you?” Steve asked.

  “Yeah, I know. Griff called me.”

  “That puts Devon Markham back on the suspects list,” Holt said. “Until we get those profiles from Derek Lawrence, we can only speculate about who we think killed Senator Price.”

  “Even with the profiles, we’ll be speculating,” Steve said.

  “I find it difficult to accept that any one of the people closest to Jordan may have killed my brother.” Ryan grimaced. “And I refuse to even consider the possibility that Jordan is guilty of any crime other than perhaps being too self-sacrificing.”

  “We’ve been working on a plan.” Holt glanced at his two co-conspirators. “I’ve run it by the boss and he’s in agreement, but Griff said the final decision would have to be yours and Mrs.
Price’s.”

  Just what sort of plan had these guys come up with? “Well, spit it out.”

  “If either of your scenarios about why someone has killed numerous men in Mrs. Price’s life is correct, then whoever our killer is, he or she goes after anyone, men in particular, whose death benefits Jordan in some way. She benefits either by eliminating a perceived threat or by her inheriting large sums of money,” Holt explained. “Our killer isn’t going to make another move unless he or she is presented with someone new who fits either description.”

  “It doesn’t really matter why this person kills, does it? If he or she has killed in order to punish Jordan or in order to protect her, the end results have been the same,” Steve added.

  “The plan is to present the killer with a new victim,” Ryan said. “Someone they would believe capable of harming Jordan.”

  A tight knot formed in the pit of Rick’s belly. He wasn’t sure exactly what the game plan was, but he figured he had been chosen as the killer’s next target.

  “Okay,” Rick said. “I’m the new victim, right? Just what am I going to do to threaten Jordan?”

  “Jordan will know from day one what the plan is,” Ryan said. “You have to believe in her innocence, but pretend otherwise.”

  “If our plan is to work, it will require some acting on your part and Jordan’s.” Steve shuffled his feet nervously, as if he wasn’t sure how Rick would react to the details of their plan. “On the surface, you’ll be Jordan’s champion. You believe in her. You know she is completely innocent. She sees you as her knight in shining armor. The two of you exhibit some personal interest in each other. But while you’re supposedly playing up to Jordan, you’re going behind her back trying to prove she murdered Dan and the others.”

  “The plan’s too complicated,” Rick told them. “Besides, I don’t think Jordan will agree to it.”

  “Don’t shoot it down. At least not yet,” Steve said. “Once we get the profiles from Powell’s expert and get a better idea of who our killer could be, we’ll know whether to follow through with the plan or try another tactic.”

  “My brother’s reputation is ruined,” Ryan said. “Everything that Jordan and Devon sacrificed for Dan was for nothing. Now Jordan’s life could well be on the line. How can she ever move past what’s happened unless the killer is found? We have to find the real killer and prove Jordan’s innocence.”

  “Okay, we’ll talk to her.” Rick glanced at Ryan. “Just the two us. If she agrees, we’ll put this convoluted plan into motion. But God help us if we screw this thing up.”

  “No!” Jordan was adamant. “You’re asking me to lie to the people who mean the most to me. By taking part in this plan, I’m as good as admitting that I believe someone near and dear to me is a murderer.”

  “On the other hand, it could do the exact opposite,” Rick pointed out to her. “If no one takes the bait, it could convince us that we’re wrong.”

  “I can’t do it.” Shaking her head, she turned away from him.

  “Jordan, I don’t want to believe it’s possible any more than you do,” Ryan told her. “But even if there is the slightest chance that Rick is right—”

  “He’s not.” She turned on them, her gaze darting from Ryan to Rick and back to Ryan. “Do you honestly believe that Devon could have killed Dan? My God, he all but worshipped your brother. He would have moved heaven and earth for him.”

  “No, not Devon, but—”

  “Darlene? She’s like a mother to me. She’s gentle and kind and I love her dearly.”

  “I admit that Darlene doesn’t have the disposition you would expect a cold-blooded killer to have,” Ryan said.

  “And Rene is my best friend. She’s ambitious and aggressive, but good grief, she cries when she sees a dead animal in the road. She couldn’t kill anyone. What about Roselynne? Do you honestly think she’s a killer? And Tammy? Do you think she’s actually smart enough to get away with murder and not just one murder, but six or seven? And even J.C., for all his faults, doesn’t have it in him to kill.”

  “I know and I agree,” Ryan said. “But someone killed Dan.”

  Jordan closed her eyes, obviously wanting to shut out the ugliness of that undeniable truth. Someone with access to their home, someone who had known where Dan kept the gun he’d bought her, had killed Dan. As horrible as the thought was, she had to accept the facts—if Jordan didn’t kill her husband that meant someone else did.

  She opened her eyes and looked at Rick. “All right. I’ll go along with this, but only if the profile you receive from Powell’s actually points to one of your suspects.”

  “We shouldn’t wait,” Ryan told her. “The sooner—”

  “You have a deal.” Rick glanced from Jordan to Ryan. “We can wait a couple of days if that makes this any easier for Jordan.”

  “I’m agreeing to this only to prove to both of you that you’re going to have to look beyond the obvious and find other suspects.”

  Ryan frowned sympathetically, then walked over to Jordan and hugged her. “I’m sorry to put you through this and I truly hope you’re right. But you must understand how important it is to me, now more than ever, to prove that Dan didn’t commit suicide. And we all want to prove that you have never killed anyone.”

  She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “I do understand. I want Dan’s killer caught and punished just as much as you do. And Devon wants the same thing.”

  Ryan released her and then turned to Rick. “Take good care of her. She’s a special kind of lady.”

  Rick nodded.

  When Ryan closed the study door behind him, Rick made a quick decision. He intended to leave Jordan in peace, at least for the rest of the evening. “Agent Elliott will be posted outside the study,” Rick told her. “He’ll stay with you for a few hours while I take care of some other things.”

  “What things?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about. If I learn anything new, I’ll share it with you immediately.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yeah, I promise.”

  He hated leaving things this way, with Jordan exhausted, emotionally raw, and worrying about everyone except herself. But he needed to put some distance between them— even if it was only a few rooms inside the house.

  “You realize that from here on out, I need to be with you around the clock,” he said. “Maybe you could see if Tobias can round up a cot of some kind and put it outside your bedroom.”

  “Do you actually think someone might—”

  “Work with me, okay? I know your feelings. You know my thoughts. It’s my job to keep you safe. I need you to cooperate with me.”

  “There’s no reason for you to sleep on a cot. There’s a daybed in my dressing room. You can sleep there.” She looked him over, from head to toe. “The bed may be a little too short for you, but it will be far more comfortable than a cot.”

  “Do you trust me that much, to let me sleep in your dressing room?”

  “I believe you’re the type of man who would never do anything I didn’t want you to do.” She offered him a wavering smile. “You see, I trust you far more than you trust me.”

  “Don’t assume you know what I think.”

  “I assume nothing where you’re concerned.”

  “If I sleep behind closed doors with you, what will your family think? Aren’t you concerned about—?”

  “No, I’m not the least concerned. You’re my bodyguard. It’s expected that you will stay close to me at all times.”

  Despite his better judgment, he moved toward her, narrowing the space between them to mere inches. “That’s the problem. I want to be close to you.”

  He reached out, clamped his hand on the back of her neck and drew her to him as he lowered his head down far enough so that they were staring directly into each other’s eyes. Her mouth opened on a startled gasp.

  “Rick?”

  “Damn!”

  He covered her mouth with his, his tongue circling he
r lips, tasting her before he thrust inside. She swayed toward him, her breasts brushing against his chest. Holding her head in place, he deepened the kiss. Just as he realized that she wasn’t responding and started to end things, she laid her hands on his chest and moaned as she kissed him back. It was then that he knew she was as hungry for him as he was for her.

  Taking full advantage of the opportunity, Rick kissed her until they were both breathless. As they broke apart slowly, his hand still gripping the back of her neck and her hands still on his chest, he lifted his head and looked at her.

  When she closed her eyes, he pressed his forehead against hers.

  “You make me feel things I haven’t felt in years,” she said. “Not since…”

  He ran his index finger up and down the back of her neck in a caressing gesture. “Not since when?”

  She opened her eyes, smiled at him and said, “Not since I was young and foolish and believed in happily ever after.”

  “Not since Robby Joe?”

  “What I had with Robby Joe, I’ll never have with anyone else. But I didn’t expect this. I don’t even know what to call it.”

  “Sexual attraction.”

  “That’s all it is,” she said. “It’s all it can be.”

  “Don’t discount the power of lust in a relationship.”

  Neither of them realized someone had seen the kiss and overheard their conversation; not until Rick heard the door close and caught a glimpse of Rene Burke as she hurried away.

  “What is it?” Jordan lifted her hand to his face, cupped his chin, and turned his face to hers. “Did you hear something?” She glanced at the closed door.

  “The door was open,” he told her. “Rene was there, but when she realized she was interrupting something between us, she left.”

  “Oh.”

  “Does it bother you that she saw us?”

  “No. And I suppose it plays right into the little charade you have planned to trap Dan’s killer, doesn’t it?”

  Rick cupped her face and forced her to look directly at him. “That kiss had absolutely nothing to do with the plan. It was something just between you and me.”