Grace Under Fire

by Beverly Barton

  "Let me give you some advice." Booth grinned, his expression pure evil. "Do what you can to persuade Ms. Beaumont that it's in her best interest to let the matter drop. It's not healthy for a young widow to dwell on her husband's death. Who knows, an obsession like that could kill her."

  Jed barely restrained himself. He wanted to grab Booth by the throat and choke the life out of him. How dare he threaten Grace right to Jed's face! He wanted to warn his uncle that if he tried to harm Grace, he'd have to answer to him personally. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs that Booth was on the verge of being arrested by the FBI.

  "My job is to protect Ms. Beaumont. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure no harm comes to her."

  "Yes, I'm sure you will. But I'd hate to see the two of us on opposite sides. After all, you are my nephew. Your rightful place is here with me. Don't you ever regret having given up the chance to inherit my empire?"

  "I regret a lot of things."

  "It's never too late to right the wrongs of the past." Booth eased off the edge of the desk, reached out and placed his hand on Jed's shoulder. "But before I could trust you again, you'd have to prove yourself."

  Jed glared at his uncle's hand resting on his shoulder. Booth squeezed his shoulder, then released it. "You're in a unique position to be of service to me."

  "How is that?"

  "You're Grace Beaumont's bodyguard."

  "You want me to kill her, is that it?"

  Booth smiled. "Just persuade the lady, by whatever means necessary, that digging into the past is dangerous."

  "You made two mistakes," Jed said and chuckled when his uncle's smile vanished. "First, you assumed that I might be interested in inheriting your crime empire. I'm not. Second, you assumed I'd be willing to kill an innocent woman. I'm not." And what Booth didn't know was that Grace Beaumont's life was worth more to Jed than his own.

  "Headstrong and stubborn as always," Booth said. "And just a bit weak. Like your mama. I thought maybe you'd gotten tougher, but I see you haven't."

  Jed walked to the pocket doors, opened them, then said, "I'll say goodbye to Charmaine and let her know I'll be at Jaron's funeral."

  "If you have any ideas of renewing your relationship with my wife, I advise against it. You must remember how possessive I am of my personal property."

  Yes. Jed remembered all too well the beating he'd taken at the age of ten when he'd dared to borrow one of Booth's diamond rings. Booth had caught him taking it from the jewelry case in his bedroom. It had been the one and only time his uncle had physically abused him, but Booth had beaten him so badly that he'd learned a lesson he never forgot. Never steal from Booth. Never lie to Booth. Never double-cross Booth.

  "Take care of yourself, Uncle Booth," Jed said sarcastically. "And enjoy what you've got … because you never know when it's all going to come tumbling down around you."

  * * *

  Booth waited until Jed said goodbye to Charmaine, retrieved his gun from Ronnie and got in his car before he picked up the phone and called Curt Poarch.

  Curt answered on the third ring. "Yeah, Poarch here."

  "Curt, there's something I'm going to need you to do for me."

  "Yes, sir. Name it."

  "I want you and Charlie to get together and come up with a plan to ensure that Grace Beaumont isn't a problem for me anymore."

  "All right I'll get with Charlie later today and—"

  "Get together with him now. I want it taken care of this afternoon."

  "You want us to handle it personally or bring in an outside man?"

  "I'll leave the particulars up to you. Just be sure that by tonight, the lady is no longer a thorn in my side."

  * * *

  Chapter 18

  « ^ »

  Grace straightened the collar on her beige blouse and re-arranged her pearls so that they lay in the center of her chest. After hurriedly applying peach-tinted lip gloss, she donned her brown silk jacket and picked up her brown leather clutch purse. As she headed for the stairs, she checked her wristwatch. Ten-thirty-five. When she'd awakened an hour ago alone in bed, she had glanced at the clock on the nightstand and realized Jed had already left for Beaulac. After their heated confrontation, she hadn't questioned him any further about his mission, his reasons for making a personal call on Booth Fortier, but when she'd told him she'd figured out the FBI was somehow involved, he hadn't denied it.

  As she made her way downstairs, she thought about the hours she had spent in Jed's arms this morning and a fluttering sensation tingled through her body. She was in love. Crazy in love. Unexpectedly in love. After Dean's death she had thought herself incapable of ever loving again, of finding someone who made her heart sing.

  "Morning, Miss Grace," Laverna met her as she came down the back stairs into the kitchen.

  "Good morning," Grace replied. "I don't want breakfast this morning. Just coffee and juice. I'd like to go to the office as soon as possible."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Kate Malone stood by the bay window, a cup of coffee in her hand. "Jed should be back by noon, if you'd like to wait for him."

  "He can meet us at the office." Grace placed her purse on the counter, accepted the small glass of orange juice Laverna held out to her, downed it in one long gulp, then handed the glass back to the housekeeper. "We're in the process of acquiring TV and radio stations in Newport, Arkansas, and in Corinth, Mississippi. I'm expecting updates on both negotiations today and I'm sure we'll have something to celebrate. Plus, we have a company picnic coming up in a few weeks and I always help Elsa plan the event."

  "When do you want to leave?" Kate asked.

  "In five minutes." Grace accepted the coffee cup Laverna handed her and said, "Please, ask Nolan to bring the car around." She looked directly at Kate. "You can ride with me, and Mr. Shea can follow. Will that be satisfactory?"

  "It should be. Just as long as one of us is with you at all times."

  Grace took several sips of hot coffee, then placed the cup on the saucer sitting on the counter. "Ask Mr. Shea to contact Jed and tell him to meet us at Sheffield Media headquarters."

  "While you finish your coffee, I'll tell Dom. He's in the den."

  The minute Kate left the kitchen, Grace lifted the telephone from the wall, dialed her office number and picked up her cup.

  "Sheffield Media, Inc.," Elsa said. "Ms. Beaumont's office."

  "Hi, Elsa. I'll be coming in late this morning. We're leaving here in five minutes."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Have we heard anything from Newport or Corinth?"

  "I received a call from Mr. Sullivan. He's still negotiating terms with the lawyers representing both affiliates, but he said to tell you to pop the champagne. He's sure it'll be a done deal by this afternoon."

  "Wonderful." Grace sipped on her coffee. "Since a celebratory lunch is in order, please, make reservations for two … no make that for six, at Rudy's. I want you and Hudson to join us—Jed and I and the other two Dundee agents. Mr. Shea and Kate have become my second and third shadows. By the way, when you call Rudy's make sure you speak personally to Rudy. I want our lunch prepared by Rudy himself. And be sure to ask him to chill a couple of bottles of Krug Grande Cuvee."

  "Yes, ma'am. I'll see to it immediately."

  Grace knew Elsa was probably dying to know all about the corpse that had been dumped at her gate, but was too circumspect to boldly inquire. "I suppose you've heard about the gangster that was dropped off in front of the house last night."

  "Yes, everyone's heard. It's front page news this morning. And Hudson approved having our radio and TV stations cover the story. He felt that you wouldn't want Sheffield Media to shy away from the story just because … well, because you're involved. And he chose not to bother you at home with making the decision."

  "Hudson did the correct thing."

  "The man who was murdered, the police identified him as Jaron Vaden, one of Booth Fortier's top henchmen," Elsa said. "They say Fortier is married to Vaden's
sister."

  I knew Jaron Vaden, the man who was dumped outside your gate. We were friends as teenagers. Grace heard Jed's voice inside her head.

  "Grace?"

  "Mmm-hmm?"

  "Are you all right?" Elsa asked, concern in her voice. "You sound a bit strange."

  "Yes. Yes, I'm fine."

  "It must have been terrible for you last night. I mean having a dead body … you didn't see it, did you? The police didn't make you—"

  "Jed took care of everything," Grace said. "I did have to speak to Sheriff Adams, but he asked me only a few questions."

  "If you'd rather not come into work today—"

  "I'll be there shortly. I'm not letting Booth Fortier scare me so badly that I can't function normally. I have a team of bodyguards to keep me safe." As safe as it was possible to be when a man like Fortier decided he wanted you dead, Grace thought.

  "We'll expect you soon." Elsa paused. "And Grace… Troy called me a few minutes ago. He asked if he could come by the house this evening."

  "That's good news, isn't it?"

  "Yes, I think it is. He actually apologized for acting so badly the day he moved out. I'm hoping I can persuade him to give up the job at the warehouse."

  "I certainly hope you can." Grace wondered if she should mention her idea of a major job promotion to Elsa. It would mean Elsa moving from St. Camille and uprooting Milly, but if she could persuade Troy to go with them, it might give the kid one more second chance. Better wait, Grace decided. Selfishly she wanted Elsa here at Sheffield Media, Inc. headquarters until this nightmare with Booth Fortier was over. Then she'd offer Elsa the type of job she knew her assistant longed for—managing affiliated radio and television stations. Grace intended to give Elsa her choice of Newport or Corinth, then when she'd done her apprenticeship in a small town, Elsa could move to a larger city when a managerial position came open.

  "Inform Hudson that he's invited to lunch to celebrate. And phone Uncle Willis and see if he can join us. If he can, make the reservations for seven."

  "I'll handle everything. Have a safe trip into town," Elsa said, then hung up.

  Grace finished her coffee, set the cup down and picked up her purse. "Laverna, let's have dinner in the sunroom tonight. Make it really nice. Linen tablecloth and napkins. And Grandmother's china and silver."

  "Candles and fresh flowers, too?" Laverna asked.

  "Mmm-hmm. Yes. The works." Grace waltzed over and hugged Laverna, whose dark eyes widened in surprise. "I want music, too. Something romantic."

  "Yes, ma'am." Laverna smiled timidly.

  * * *

  Jed waited in a long line of cars backed up on the highway between Beaulac and St. Camille. He'd decided to take the shortest route to Sheffield Media, Inc. headquarters, not realizing a road crew would have a section of highway blocked and was making the eastbound traffic take turns with the westbound traffic on the narrow strip of old road.

  Jed thumped his fingers on the steering wheel as one foot patted nervously on the floor mat. Dom had phoned to let him know Grace had insisted on heading to the office immediately and wanted him to meet them there. Mentally he knew Grace was as safe with Dom and Kate as she would be with him: but on a possessive male, gut level, he didn't want Grace going anywhere without him.

  Just as he started to call the office to let them know he'd be late, his lane of traffic got the go-ahead, so he shifted gears and moved forward, but only at a snail's pace.

  An hour later, he parked at Sheffield Media, Inc. headquarters and strode into the main building. When he arrived at Grace's office, he was told by one of the secretaries that Ms. Beaumont had already left for lunch.

  "Where did she go?"

  "Rudy's. It's on Main Street. You can't miss it. Ms. Beaumont asked that you join them as soon as possible."

  "Them? Do you mean the Dundee agents?"

  "Yes, sir, they were with her, along with Ms. Leone and Mr. Prentice."

  Oh, great, just great, Jed thought. Lunch with Hudson Prentice. He didn't like the guy. And it wasn't just because the man was in love with Grace. Jed's gut instincts told him Prentice couldn't be trusted. If he had to choose between Prentice and Uncle Willis to be the bad guy, the informant who had betrayed Dean Beaumont and Byram Sheffield, he'd pick Prentice. After all, what had Willis Sullivan gained by the two men's deaths? Nothing. On the other hand, Prentice had believed he would be named CEO of Sheffield Media, Inc. after Grace's father died. And with Dean Beaumont out of the way, he'd probably thought Grace would fall into his waiting arms.

  Of course Jed had no real proof. And gut instincts wouldn't hold up in court. Nor would his gut instincts persuade Grace that her senior vice-president was a two-faced, conniving bastard. Besides, Jed told himself, there was always the off chance he could be wrong.

  "How long have they been gone?" Jed asked.

  "They just left. Less than ten minutes ago. Rudy's doesn't open until twelve-thirty during the week and there's always a crowd."

  Jed dashed into the parking lot, jumped in the rental car and screeched out onto the road. As he zipped from red light to red light in the business district of downtown St. Camille, he asked himself why the hell he was in such a rush. What did he think would happen to Grace without him at her side?

  As soon as he turned onto Main, he saw the restaurant at the end of the street, the last building on the left. Like so many establishments in town, Rudy's was housed in an old building that had been renovated and yet maintained a Louisiana antebellum ambience. Black wrought-iron banisters lined the upstairs porch as well as the downstairs one. Glistening black shutters flanked two sets of long, narrow windows across the front of the old whitewashed redbrick exterior. As he crept slowly along the street—the speed limit was fifteen miles an hour—he spotted Grace's Rolls parked out front, with Nolan sitting inside; then he saw a line of people slowly entering Rudy's. When he drew nearer, he recognized Kate and Dom standing in line and to their right Prentice stood beside Elsa Leone. Undoubtedly the others blocked his view of Grace. When Jed drove up in front of the restaurant, he hunted for a parking place, then noticed a sign pointing to parking in the rear. Grumbling under his breath, he eased the rental car onto the narrow alleyway that led to the back of the restaurant.

  When he got out of the car, locked it and headed toward the sidewalk, some odd sixth sense kicked in, alerting him to danger. His steady walk turned into a hurried trot and then broke into a full run. As he turned the corner, he comprehended several different events occurring simultaneously. In his peripheral vision he caught a glimpse of a car crash at the intersection. One vehicle ran through the red light and rammed straight into the side of the other car. Looking directly ahead, he noted the customers entering Rudy's had stopped, turned and gaped in surprise at the nearby accident scene. Dom and Kate, flanking Grace, took defensive positions, blocking her body with theirs. And for some unknown reason, Hudson Prentice froze in place, closed his eyes and looked as if he was praying.

  Jed hurried toward Grace. Two of the men in the crowd raced across the street toward the accident site, presumably going to offer assistance. When Grace saw Jed, her face lit up. Nothing had prepared him for the way her reaction made him feel. The woman had him turned inside out, her every look tightening his gut, her every touch arousing him.

  "Jed…" She turned to him, but stopped herself before actually reaching out to him.

  He knew what she felt because he felt it, too. He wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her senseless. But Grace Beaumont wasn't the type of lady who would go in for public displays like that.

  Before he could say anything, one of the men who'd rushed from Rudy's to the accident site, called out, "Hey, there's a guy over here who's having some kind of convulsions. We need a doctor or somebody with medical training."

  The crowd buzzed with concern and curiosity. Jed knew what he had to do, but that nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach cautioned him not to leave Grace. He grasped her arm and said, "I've had m
edic training. I should—"

  "Go…go," she told him.

  Most of the people in line at Rudy's went inside for lunch, but a few decided watching an accident scene was preferable to eating. Grace instructed Elsa and Hudson to go on into the restaurant, then she turned to Kate and Dom.

  "Mr. Shea, why don't you go with Jed and see if you can help out. Kate and I will go in and order, then y'all can join us later."

  Jed looked squarely at Kate. "Take care of her."

  "You know I will," Kate replied.

  Reluctantly Jed headed toward the car crash at the intersection, Dom at his side, as Grace and Kate followed Elsa and Hudson into the restaurant. Just go do what has to be done to help out, Jed told himself. Kate will look after Grace. After all, what could happen to her in Rudy's?

  Jed and Dom parted the crowd hovering around the two wrecked vehicles—a shiny red Toyota convertible and a black Ford Windstar minivan. It appeared the man driving the convertible had run the red light and smashed into the side of the minivan—probably at no more than twenty miles an hour. The woman driving the Windstar had two toddlers in regulation child safety seats in the back. She was crying, but she seemed to be physically all right, as were her two squalling babies. The young man behind the wheel of the sports car was in the throes of a convulsion and since Jed couldn't see how he could have been badly injured in what appeared to be just a major fender bender, he figured the guy had some sort of medical condition.

  "You look after the lady and her kids," Jed said. "I'll see what I can do for this guy."

  By the time Jed checked the guy over and decided he hadn't received any injuries and that he possibly suffered from epilepsy and had gone into a seizure which had no doubt caused the accident, the police showed up and an ambulance siren could be heard several blocks up the street. Jed discovered a medical emergency bracelet on the man's wrist which verified Jed's suspicions that he had epilepsy. Since Jed and Dom were firsthand witnesses to the collision and the lady was too hysterical to give the officers a competent report on how the accident had occurred and the other driver would soon be on his way to the hospital, Officer LeBeck asked the Dundee agents to fill him in on what had happened.