“Would you stop being so rational?”
He waited a beat. “Okay.”
“No, it’s not okay.” She stepped closer, smacked her palm against his chest. “None of this is okay.”
When he didn’t respond to either her emphatic statement or her aggressive body language, Caitlin’s temper surged. “If you’re going to stand there like a big, calm block, just go ahead and leave. Damn it, Jack.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Damn it. What if she dies?”
“She’s not going to die.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t,” she insisted when he started to speak. “Anything can go wrong during a surgery, even one that’s routine. She’s been my best friend since before I could walk. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
“Lucky for you, you don’t have to find out. The surgeon came out to talk to your brother a few minutes ago. She’s out of surgery. He’s optimistic that she’ll make a full recovery.”
“Oh.” She brought her trembling hand to her mouth. “God. Thank God.” And then she felt her stomach drop. “The baby?”
But he didn’t have to answer. The eyes she’d considered so cold upon first viewing filled with sympathy.
“No. No, no, no.”
When Jack reeled her in, held her against his chest, Caitlin let the stress of the past several hours flow out of her in a steady stream of ugly, messy tears. Tears for herself, for Connie and her brother. For the young, innocent life that never had a chance.
“When the cops catch her,” Caitlin said viciously, “they better lock her up for her own safety. Because I could kill that bitch right now.”
“Luckily you know a good attorney.”
The laugh bubbled up unexpectedly, nearly causing her to choke. “No offense, but I hope never to need your services again.”
She wiped her face on her sleeve, and then sighed against his chest.
“Better now?” Jack stroked a hand down her damp hair. She’d showered earlier in one of the hospital rooms and they’d given her scrubs to wear, since her own clothes had been covered in blood.
Jack’s as well.
“Yes,” she admitted. “Which makes me feel bad, because Connie’s personal hell is just getting started. She’s going to be devastated when she wakes up.”
“You’ll be there for her. As will Lance.”
“Thank you for helping her today. I was in shock. I don’t know why, considering everything that’s happened over the course of the past two weeks. But I didn’t expect my friends, my family to be in danger. I feel horrible. That bullet was meant for me.”
“If you’re not in shock, at least temporarily, when your best friend is shot in front of you while the sun is shining outside and little kids with ice cream cones are walking by, then I’d say there’s something wrong with you. And you know better than to blame yourself for any of this.”
“No admonitions about how I shouldn’t have been walking down the street?”
He sighed. “No. I was pissed at the time, but you weren’t being deliberately reckless. Most people would assume the presence of cops everywhere would act as a deterrent. And as much as I hate what happened, I think it helped us turn a corner in the investigation. The police found the gun in a trashcan near the stairwell of the parking garage.”
Caitlin drew a deep breath. “But did they find the person who put it there?”
“Not yet. But it helps now that they have an idea who they’re looking for.”
There were a few extra cafeteria chairs stacked in the hall, and Caitlin pulled one of them over and sat down. She was so exhausted she could no longer stand. “You’re sure about this, Jack?”
“That Theresa Easton has been trying to have you killed? Pretty damn certain.”
“But how do you know it wasn’t another one of her hired assassins, for lack of a better word, that pulled the trigger today?”
“Witnesses saw a woman wearing sunglasses, a hat and gloves leaving the parking garage today. Clark wouldn’t confirm or deny beyond telling me that they’re treating her as a person of interest. Which in his own way is essentially offering confirmation, since his normal response to a question of that nature from me would be something along the lines of fuck off.”
“So Theresa got tired of her proxies botching the job and took matters into her own hands. Just how desperate does she have to be to risk doing something like that a block from the police station?”
“I’d say very. Which is one reason the police insisted that you wear that vest. I sent Evan to Atlanta,” he told her as he brought over another chair. “He talked to your brother’s secretary, who did in fact mention to Theresa – who, unsurprisingly, is out of town – that someone turned in Connie’s phone, and Lance was having it sent to Savannah. Being part owner of the business, she would know what courier service your brother usually used, and probably had little trouble getting the information as to where the phone was being delivered. Once she knew that, she could simply wait and follow you, figure out what hotel you were in and then round up another proxy, as you said. Before the man who assaulted you by the vending machines lawyered up, he said that it was a woman who paid him, so that fits. Maybe she knows a variety of addicts, since her son is one. That’s almost certainly how she found Harold Cox – he and Peyton attended the same substance abuse treatment center, as well as knowing each other from high school.”
Caitlin pictured the woman with whom she’d lived for some time. They’d never been close, and in no way did she think of her as a surrogate mother. But it still hurt that someone she’d known from the time she was a baby could have such a callous disregard for her life. “But why? Why would she do all this?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say it has something to do with your shares in the company, and the fight about it going public.”
“But Lance is my beneficiary. How does it benefit her if I die? Lance will get my shares anyway.”
“I don’t have that answer. Not yet, anyway. I’m going to ask your brother if he would consider a forensic audit of the company books. I feel like there’s something that she doesn’t want coming to light. And if you would be okay with it, I’d like to have a look at your will.”
“Of course. And to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what it says, beyond naming Lance as the person who gets my stuff if I die. I was only eighteen when I had it drawn up. I… shit.”
“What?”
Caitlin closed her eyes. Maybe she was stupid after all. “Theresa was my legal guardian. Even though I lived with Lance, she still had the official position. And her last task as my guardian was to take me to a lawyer and help me set up a will and everything else I needed to manage my accounts on my own. It was the week before my eighteenth birthday.”
“Any document you signed prior to turning eighteen wouldn’t be considered a binding contract if you were to void it shortly thereafter.”
“So could she, as my guardian still at that point, go in and… change my will?”
“Legally, no, a guardian cannot create or change the designated beneficiaries. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t do something shady. And if you were trying to sell out to Lance, that would certainly explain her desire to prevent that from happening.”
“I keep telling you I’m not naïve, but I never even considered something like this.”
“You were a child at the time. And she was legally the person responsible for you. There’s no reason you would have.”
Caitlin huffed out a humorless laugh. “Apparently I’m a sucker.” Which made her mind shift back to the other piece of information she’d learned. “Lydia Fasteland is dead.”
“Yes,” he told her. “And has been since around the night of her husband’s murder. I obviously don’t have all the details for that either, but everything seems to be pointing toward her guilt. For one thing, she was driving his car.”
“So it wasn’t her that tried to run me over in the car that looked like Ryan’s.”
“I’m guessing th
at Theresa heard about his murder and the fact that his wife was wanted for questioning. And knowing about your history with the couple, started to come up with a plot. Make it look like Lydia snapped and killed him, and then came after you, too.”
“That explains the car,” she agreed. “And the note on my windshield. But not some of the… circumstances with Harold Cox. If he was supposed to kill me and make it look like Lydia was guilty, the wine and the fact that he was naked, almost certainly intending to rape me, don’t exactly fit.”
“So maybe he went off script. Maybe he couldn’t resist the idea of having a little fun first. You can’t expect rationality from someone whose brain is operating under the effects of various drugs.”
“No,” she said, although something about that still bothered her. “I guess not. Jack.” She glanced his way. “Do you think Theresa had something to do with Darius’ death?”
Jack reached over and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I spoke to Naomi Presley. Darius’ wife. She confirmed that Theresa contacted him after news of Ryan’s murder leaked, expressing concern for your welfare. She said Darius thought it was damn odd, since she never seemed to give a fig about you previously.”
Caitlin closed her eyes. “Knowing Darius, he probably started doing a little digging, especially since Lance had already asked him to keep an eye out. God knows what he turned up.”
“There’s no proof yet that foul play was involved in his death, but the sheriff’s office there is looking into it.”
Feeling her heart squeeze with remorse, she looked at Jack. “I want to believe that there is no way a high maintenance lady who lunches could possibly have gotten the drop on Darius. But that’s probably the exact kind of person he wouldn’t have seen as a threat to anything other than his patience. I feel responsible.”
“You’re not.”
“I know. But it’s difficult not to. And as much as Peyton pushes my buttons, I can’t help but feel sorry for him. His mother is obviously an even more horrid person than I ever dreamed, but she’s always doted on him. In fact, I almost wonder if this isn’t part of some sort of plot she hatched to somehow reinstall him in the company. Either way, it’s going to be awful for him. Do you know if anyone has told him?”
“Evan tried to locate him. He seems to have dropped out of sight.”
“I spoke to him earlier. He called Connie again, and I answered. Something is going on,” she said, needing to unload her suspicions. And she couldn’t exactly tell Lance. “With him and Connie. I…” she hesitated, wondering if she should bring it up. But if she’d gone this far, she might as well get the whole thing out. “I looked up the location data on Connie’s phone. Trying to figure out where the thief might have taken it? Which was impractical, but anyway, I saw that she’d been in Savannah months ago, before I moved here. Even though she said she hadn’t been here in years. But the thing is, that business venture Peyton wanted me to loan him money to get started? It was here. In Savannah.”
“So he was here at the time Connie visited?”
“I’m almost positive. And it puts me in a horrible position between my best friend and my brother. I would like to think it was just two childhood friends meeting up, but I know both of them too well. Connie has never been able to resist a bad boy, and Peyton is a royal screw up. Plus, she used to have this painful crush on him when we were growing up. I don’t know whether he was buttering her up to get her involved in his scheme, or maybe flipping the bird to Lance, or didn’t think past the moment. With him, it’s difficult to say. But regardless, I’m pretty sure that they are having, or have had, an affair. It’s why Connie freaked out when she realized that I’d talked to Peyton. She probably worried that he might tell.”
Jack scrubbed a hand over his face. “You know, I sometimes think my life is a little too normal. You know how we talked about the law being a lot more boring than people believe? Well, I spend the majority of my time working. That’s a whole lot of tedium. And then there’s my family, with whom I get along well enough that we voluntarily spend time together. If I hadn’t taken your case and therefore become caught up in everything, I’d probably be hanging out with one of my brothers or making googly eyes at my new niece. And don’t apologize. This hasn’t exactly been an easy way to fall for someone, but if the alternative is not having met you, I’ll take it.”
Caitlin glanced over sharply. “Fall for?”
“Babe,” Jack told her “I’ve watched you almost die essentially in front of me three times, and I can tell you that three is enough. I’ve never felt that kind of fear before, not even when my former client had a knife to my throat. So I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, healthy – and happy – for the foreseeable future.” He waited a beat. “That okay with you?”
Some of the weight that seemed to have settled on her lifted, just a little. “Could you write that up in a brief? I want to make sure there are no hidden clauses, like must be willing to sail.”
He looked at her with horror. “You don’t like sailing?”
“I get seasick.”
“Dramamine.”
“Or I could just wave you off from my nice comfy chair on the dock, where I’m enjoying a good book.”
His brows drew together like someone was tightening a thread. “Fine,” he finally said. “I agree to your terms and conditions.”
“That might not be the only one. There’s your operating room-like kitchen to consider.”
“I’ll buy you a gallon of paint.”
“It’s a pretty big kitchen. It’s going to take at least three.”
He brought their joined hands to his mouth, kissed her knuckles. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see your smile.”
But it faded too quickly. “I guess we should head back. I need to talk to Lance now that Connie’s out of surgery.”
Jack nodded. “You want something from one of these machines before we go?”
“Not really. I think I came down here mostly because I needed to be alone for a few minutes. It’s an introvert thing. Plus, I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn’t going to shake like a leaf every time I saw a vending area for the rest of my life. But I do need to visit the restroom. Too much coffee.”
“I think there’s one right around the corner.”
“I’ll be right back then.”
Caitlin found the bathroom Jack mentioned, literally right around the corner, used the facilities and came out to wash her hands. She heard the toilet flush in a neighboring stall, and looked away from the paper towel dispenser to smile at the woman who emerged.
And found herself facing the barrel of a gun.
“You have to be kidding me,” she said.
“I’m afraid not,” Theresa said. Her reddish blonde hair was tucked beneath a dark wig, but her freckles were recognizable. As if the weapon didn’t give her away. “If you would have cooperated and died like you were supposed to, this wouldn’t be necessary.”
Oddly, Caitlin didn’t feel the same fear she’d felt at any of the points in the past two weeks where her life had been threatened. Maybe because she knew this woman, maybe because she had so much rage over what had been done not only to her life, but to Connie’s and Lance’s. And even Peyton’s. All with a casual disregard for anything other than what Theresa wanted.
“You think you can just shoot me here in the bathroom and waltz out of the hospital?”
“No, I think you will waltz out of the hospital in front of me if you don’t want me to sneak back in here later wearing this very handy nurse’s uniform, and slip something… inappropriate in Constance’s IV.”
Constance was of course Connie. Theresa was simply too pretentious to use the diminutive.
“And if I do waltz out of here, what’s to keep you from sneaking back in here anyway?”
“I have no beef with Constance.”
“You shot her!”
“By accident. I was aiming for you. She moved suddenly.”
&n
bsp; “Oh, well there’s a comfort. Are you aware that you also killed her baby?”
That caught her attention for a moment, but then she waved the hand that wasn’t holding the gun. “She can have others.”
Caitlin almost wanted to laugh. How could she not have realized the depth of this woman’s sociopathy before? “You’re crazy.”
“That’s what William thought,” she said. “He was wrong, too.”
A terrible suspicion began to form. “Did you have something to do with the plane crash?”
Theresa looked like she wanted to clap her hands, like a child that’s just been offered a treat. “How nice for someone to finally suggest it. I was almost insulted all those years ago, when investigators didn’t even ask me any tough questions. Yes, of course I did, you silly twit. William, the idiot, was on the verge of divorcing me. I wasn’t about to let that happen. Nor was I willing to be removed as your guardian. There were too many potential benefits to the arrangement.”
So her suspicions were likely correct. And the fear which had eluded her earlier crept through Caitlin’s veins, because this woman was capable of anything.
“They know it’s you,” she told her. “Behind all of this. If you were trying to make it look like Lydia Fasteland was responsible, I’m afraid you failed. The police recently found her body.”
Her face, rendered virtually immobile through things like Botox and plastic surgery, nonetheless formed the facsimile of a frown. “You’re lying.”
“Afraid not.”
Theresa’s breath came faster, but she tightened her grip on the gun. “Then I have no reason not to kill you, do I?”
“Actually you have every reason. You could turn yourself in before you make things worse.”
“And let me guess: your sexy attorney will defend me?”
Caitlin paused, forcing the gorge that wanted to rise back down. “I’m sure he would.”
“You’ve never been a decent liar. You really think I wasn’t aware what my own son was up to all those years ago when you tried to fool me? Little miss perfect. Now march out that door before I put a bullet in you just for annoying me.”
The Southern Comfort Prequel Trilogy Box Set Page 88