by Sandra Brown
“Mr. Patchett mentioned it today.”
Jade had heard nothing from Otis Parker since their last conversation by telephone. She had vacillated between calling to pressure him and giving him time to consider her offer. Graham had confirmed her suspicions—the Patchetts were on to her.
Dragging her thoughts back to Graham’s, she said, “You know how busy I am. I’ve got a lot of important matters on my mind. You’re old enough to understand that.”
“But you had lots of work to do when we were in New York, too. You didn’t get all bent out of shape over it. What’s happened?”
She reached up and combed back his hair with her fingers. “If I’ve seemed high-strung lately, it’s because I want to do well on this project. And because I want you to be happy here. You are, aren’t you? You like the house?”
“Sure it’s great, only…”
“Only what?”
“I’ve got all that explaining to do to my new friends.”
“Explaining?”
“About why I haven’t got a dad, and about Cathy not really being related to us. You know, all that shit I always have to explain.” He picked at a loose cuticle. “I know you’ve always told me we were a special family. Unique.” He raised sad blue eyes to hers. “I don’t want to be special, Mom. I’m tired of being unique. I wish we were normal, like everybody else.”
“There’s no such thing as normal, Graham.”
“Well, most people are more normal than we are.”
As big as he was, she pulled him into her arms and pressed his troubled face against her throat. “Sometimes things happen in our lives that we have no control over. We have to make the best life possible with what we’re given to work with.
“I wish with all my heart that you had enjoyed a ‘normal’ family life. It didn’t work out that way. I’m sorry. I’ve done the best I could. I’m still doing what I believe is best,” she added, thinking about Cathy and Dillon’s advice that she tell Graham about the rape. She couldn’t. Her son was having a difficult enough time adjusting to a new home and burgeoning maturity without afflicting him with her tragedy.
“I know you are, Mom. Forget I mentioned it.” He pulled away and gave her a faint smile.
“I apologize for embarrassing you today in front of Dillon, and I promise not to do it again.”
“Were you with him tonight?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“What?” she asked on a laugh. “You’re grinning like a opossum.”
“I think Dillon likes you, that’s all.”
“Of course he likes me. We couldn’t work so well together if he didn’t like me.”
“Come on, Mom. You know what I mean.”
“We’re friends.”
“Uh-huh.” He smiled with an air of superiority. “Do you think I’ll be as tall as he is when I finish growing?” He glanced toward the framed photograph on his bureau. “How tall was Grandpa Sperry?”
On his thirteenth birthday, Jade had officially given him his grandfather’s Medal of Honor and the picture she had always treasured. From the time he was still small enough to sit in her lap, she had told Graham the story of her father’s valor in the Korean conflict. She had never told him his grandfather’s death was a suicide.
“He was six feet two inches, I believe.”
“So I’ll be at least that tall.”
“Probably.” She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “Just don’t be in such a hurry to get there, okay? Good night.”
“G’night. Mom?”
“Hmm?” She turned at the door and looked back at him.
“Was my dad tall?”
Thinking of her three attackers, she answered huskily, “Above average.”
Graham nodded with satisfaction, then reached up to switch off the lamp above his bed. “G’night.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jade was working at her desk when Neal came in, unannounced, without even knocking. Loner hadn’t alerted her that anyone was outside. Graham was fishing in a nearby creek and had taken the dog with him for company.
Neal smiled at her as though they had parted on the best of terms. “Hi, Jade.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I brought my daddy to see you.”
“About what?”
“I wouldn’t want to spoil his surprise.”
Any surprise the Patchetts had cooked up would be nasty. “I don’t want to see him.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
He used a folding chair to prop open the door of the portable building before stepping outside. When he returned, he was carrying Ivan in his arms. He deposited him on the sofa. Jade stood stiffly beside her desk. Neal took the chair away from the door and sat down. Confident and cocky, he rested his ankle on his opposite knee.
“What do you want to see me about?” she asked Ivan.
“No inquiries after my health?” he mocked. “No pleasantries? No shooting the breeze first?”
“No.” She folded her arms across her midriff—a gesture of impatience. “If you’ve got something to say, say it. If not, leave.”
“That’s not the way I deal with folks.”
“That’s the way I deal with you.”
He fondled the smooth, arced handle of his cane. “I’ve seen pictures of your boy. He’s a real good-lookin’ kid.”
She remembered Ivan’s trait of staring people down from beneath his heavy eyebrows. He was using that method of intimidation on her now. It was hard to maintain a facade of indifference, especially since he was speaking of Graham. His evil personality was heightened by his physical deformity.
Keeping her tone cool and level, she replied, “I think he is.”
“He favors you. At least from a distance. I’d like to see him up close.”
Her heart was hammering, but she kept her expression impassive and said nothing.
“Why don’t you sit down, Jade?” Neal suggested.
“I’d rather stand.”
“Suit yourself.” Ivan’s speckled, veined hand disappeared into his suit jacket and removed an envelope from the breast pocket. He extended it toward Jade. She gazed at it suspiciously.
“What is that?”
“Open it and find out, why don’t you?”
Jade reached for the envelope, opened the flap, and took out a property deed. She quickly scanned the page, then focused on the important lines that bore the signatures of the parties involved in the transfer of ownership.
“Otis Parker,” she whispered. The starch in her posture went limp.
“That’s right.” Ivan licked his chops, reminding her of a carnivore that had just devoured its prey. “We own his land now. The deal was finalized yesterday.”
Trancelike, Jade returned to her desk chair and sat down. She smoothed out the folded pages of the deed. A notary public had sealed it. It was indisputably official. No wonder Otis had been avoiding her. He hadn’t responded to the messages she had left with Mrs. Parker, who always sounded flustered when she called. Jade had driven out to see them, but no one had answered her knock, even though she knew they were at home.
In a gruff voice she asked, “How much did you give him?”
“One million dollars.”
“One million?”
“That’s right.”
Neal, leaning back in his chair, said, “We extended Otis the same courtesy you did. He doesn’t have to vacate for two years if he doesn’t want to. That’ll give him time to bring in two years’ crops. Not that he’ll be needing the revenue now,” he added on a chuckle.
“How… how did you raise that much capital?”
He winked at her. “I liquidated some assets, mortgaged others, and took out a short-term loan. When you sit on the board of the local bank, you can swing deals like this.” He assumed a sympathetic expression. “See, Jade, you’ve still got a lot to learn about how good ol’ Southern boys conduct their business.”
“You came to town, wagg
ing your ass around like you was somebody.” Ivan grinned at her evilly. “Those New York bastards you represent are pussycats compared to me.” He thwacked himself on the chest.
Anxiously, Jade moistened her lips. “What are the terms of the payout?”
Neal glanced at his father and laughed. “Do you think we were born yesterday, Jade? We left you no room to maneuver. We closed the deal with a cashier’s check for the full amount. Otis nearly peed in his overalls when I handed him that check.”
Jade managed to keep her features composed. She carefully refolded the deed and replaced it in the envelope, then laid it on the corner of her desk.
“Congratulations.”
As though the meeting were concluded, she picked up her pen and resumed what she had been doing when Neal came in.
“Well?”
Jade looked up at Neal, an inquiring smile on her lips. “Well?”
“Don’t you have anything to say?”
“About what?”
“God damn!” Ivan roared. “About the land. What do you think?”
“You want it. We’ve got it,” Neal said, spreading his hands wide. “You can forget sucking up to Otis. He’s out of the picture. I have what that highfalutin company of yours is after. From now on, you’re dealing with me.”
She laid down her pen and folded her hands beneath her chin. “You’re mistaken. My company isn’t interested in acquiring the property that formerly belonged to the Parkers and now belongs to you.” She smiled sweetly.
Ivan laughed. “Aw, hell, she’s playing coy to lower the price.”
“Not at all, Mr. Patchett. I’m most sincere. I have absolutely no interest in buying that land. Now, if you’ll please excuse me—”
Neal shot to his feet. “You lying bitch! I know damn good and well you want that property. Ever since you got to town, you’ve been crawling all over it, measuring it, having it appraised. Don’t try and deny it. I’ve had you followed.”
“Yes, I thought you would,” she calmly stated. “In fact, I counted on it.”
Ivan’s lungs wheezed when he struggled to pull in oxygen. “God damn you.” He glared at her malevolently. His evil soul had an odor. He smelled foul. “You cheating little cunt. You conned—”
“Shut up!” Neal barked to his father. He covered the distance to Jade’s desk in two long strides, reached across it and manacled her biceps, hauling her to her feet. He spoke between clenched teeth. “You mean you never wanted the Parker place?”
“That’s right. I only wanted you to want it.”
“She played us like a couple of fools,” Ivan snarled. “We spent one million dollars on a pile of pig shit.”
She swung her head toward the older man and looked at him through smoldering blue eyes. “Small compensation for Gary’s life, wouldn’t you say?”
Neal pulled her from behind the desk and shook her hard. “You’ve ruined us.”
“Just like you ruined Gary and me.”
He backhanded her across the mouth. She cried out. The door was flung open so suddenly that it created a vacuum inside the building. Dillon’s stance and fierce expression belonged to the god of thunder, but he was lethally soft-spoken. “You’re going to regret that.”
He charged across the room, grabbed Neal by the neck, and slung him into the wall. Ivan struck Dillon across the backs of his knees with his cane. He yelled in pained surprise, spun around, and snatched the cane from Ivan. At first Jade was afraid he would use it to crack the old man’s skull. Instead, he stepped on one end of it and lifted the other, snapping it in two like a twig.
He tossed aside the two pieces and responded to Jade’s frantic shout as Neal lunged at him from behind. Neal had always relied on others to do his fighting for him. Dillon, on the other hand, had learned to street-fight in order to survive. He moved with precision and swiftness, catching Neal in the gut with his elbow, then slugging him in the face, crunching cartilage, splitting skin.
Neal reeled backward, crashed into the wall, then slid to the floor. Dillon stood over him, breathing heavily. “Get the hell out of here and take that miserable old son of a bitch with you. Or stay, and give me the honor and privilege of stamping the hell out of you.”
Neal tried to lick the blood off his chin, but it trickled from his swelling nose and dripped onto his shirt. Mustering what dignity he could, he struggled to stand up. After the blows Dillon had delivered, it wasn’t easy for him to lift and carry Ivan.
Jade followed them out the door, knowing that the moment she had waited fifteen years for had finally arrived. The Patchetts were defeated and humiliated.
Neal strapped Ivan into the passenger seat of his El Dorado. Jade was standing in front of the polished chrome grille when he came around the hood. She slapped the deed into his palm. “I hope you never have another day’s peace for as long as you live.”
He crumpled the deed in his fist. “You’re going to be sorry for this. Damned sorry.”
Painfully, he got behind the wheel. Jade shaded her eyes against the sun and watched them drive away. She didn’t even cough on the cloud of dust the squealing tires left in their wake.
Her knees folded and she plopped down where she was. At her sides, she dug her hands into the earth. “I did it. I did it.”
Dillon squatted beside her. “Are you hurt?”
“No. I feel wonderful.” She smiled at him. His face was streaked with dirt and sweat. There was a red band across his forehead where his hard hat had been. His sunglasses had left crescent impressions on his cheeks beneath his eyes, which radiated concern. “Thank you, Dillon.”
“I saw his car and got here as soon as I could.” He gently touched her lip. It was puffy but wasn’t bleeding. “Not quite soon enough.”
“It doesn’t even hurt.” She looked after the speeding car, the dissipating cloud of dust. “I did it,” she whispered again.
“What?”
She told him about the coup she had pulled off. “I was so afraid they wouldn’t fall for it, that they would guess my interest in the Parkers’ farm was a con.”
“What if they hadn’t taken the bait?”
“Mitch left me a legacy. I didn’t even know about it until his will was read. If this had backfired, I would have used it to buy the Parkers’ land myself.”
He shook his head with chagrin. “You dragged me out there, had me marking off yardage like a damn fool, and it was all for show?”
“I’ll admit that I used you. I apologize.”
“After what the Patchetts did to you,” he said, giving a slight shake of his head, “you don’t have to explain your motives or your methods.”
“This was my vendetta. I didn’t want to involve you or anyone else more than I had to.” Again she gazed into the distance. The day was warm and muggy, although summer was waning. Change was imminent.
“Gary hated being poor,” she said wistfully. “He hated it for himself, and he hated it for his family. He used to say that one day he was going to come back to Palmetto and dump a million dollars in his daddy’s lap.” She turned back to Dillon, her expression radiant. Reaching out, she gripped his bare biceps. “Dillon, I did it for him.”
Spanning her waist with his hands, he stood up, lifting her with him. He broke a rare, bona fide grin beneath his mustache. “I think this calls for a celebration.”
* * *
When the housekeeper peered into the den and asked Mr. Ivan and Mr. Neal when they would be wanting their supper, Neal threw a crystal decanter at her. She ducked out of its way in the nick of time and had the common sense not to bother them again.
The room reeked of the brandy dripping off the wainscoting onto the rug, but both were too besotted with all they had drunk to notice the fumes.
“The bitch,” Neal muttered as he splashed more liquor into his glass. “The hell of it is, she wasn’t even that good. She was a lousy virgin.” He made a broad gesture, waving his glass of liquor and sloshing it over his hand. “That’s what all this is for, yo
u know. For that time Hutch and Lamar and me had our fun with her. How the hell did we know that she’d take it so hard or that her boyfriend would hang hisself over it?”
“Sit down and shut up,” Ivan growled from his wheelchair. His head was sitting low on his shoulders, as though his neck were being swallowed by his body. His eyes were pinpoints of malicious light beneath his glowering brows. “You’re drunk.”
“I’ve got every reason to be.” Neal weaved his way across the room to his father’s chair and loomed over him. “In case you’ve forgotten, Daddy, we no longer have a pot to piss in. Among other things, we used next year’s estimated profit for collateral on that loan.”
“And who’s brilliant idea was that?”
“It was supposed to work,” Neal said defensively.
“Well, it didn’t!”
The pattern had been set when he was a boy. Neal was cocksure and arrogant until he got into trouble, then he turned to his father to get him out. “Whad’re we gonna use for money, Daddy?” he whined. “How’re we gonna pay our employees? The plant’ll have to shut down.”
Ivan looked at Neal with patent disgust. “Why in hell are you worrying about that? Soon we won’t have any employees, because they’ll all be working over at TexTile for Jade Sperry. Patchett Soybean Factory will be history.”
Neal’s battered face twitched with emotional upset. “Don’t say that, Daddy.”
“That’s what she planned on doing all along. She wanted to shut us down, ruin us.” Ivan stared at a target on the far wall as though the force of his stare could obliterate it. “And that’s exactly what she’s done.”
Neal fell onto the sofa and dug his fingertips into the sockets of his dark eyes. “I don’t know how to be poor. I don’t want to be poor.”
“Stop that goddamn whining!”
“Well, what do you care what happens, old man? I’m the one who’ll be left alive to shovel through this shit. The doctor says your heart and lungs aren’t worth crap. You’re gonna die soon anyway.”
“I don’t need a doctor to tell me that.” He didn’t look near death. His eyes shone with a fiendish light. “But one thing is for damn certain. I ain’t going to die without settling this score once and for all. That Sperry girl ain’t going to get away with this. Not completely. Let her have her small victory—in exchange for something else much more important.”