“Oh, God, Lacy, why did this have to happen? I was just beginning to know Jazzy, starting to like her…”
Lacy looked beyond Reve, her gaze focused on the front door that had just opened and let in a cool puff of night air. “Here comes trouble.”
Reve turned in time to see Jacob Butler enter. Now why had Lacy said—Before she finished the thought, Reve saw a curvy little blonde in a pair of skin-tight jeans and a slinky cut-off silk top all but attack Jacob the minute he set foot in Jazzy’s Joint.
“Who is she?” Reve asked.
“Mindy Harper. She’s one of Jacob’s old girlfriends. She’s newly divorced and just moved back to Cherokee Pointe. She was asking about him less than half an hour ago.”
“Why is she trouble?”
“She’s not trouble, except for Jacob. That gal’s got an agenda, if you know what I mean. She intends to rope, hogtie and brand our sheriff. She all but told me so.”
Reve shrugged, doing her best to act as if she didn’t care. “It’s really none of our business, is it?” Reve watched as Mindy practically dragged Jacob onto the dance floor and wrapped herself around him like a cheap coat. A tight-fitting cheap coat.
“If you could see the look on your face, Reve Sorrell, you’d know why nobody would believe what you just said.” Lacy nodded toward the twosome on the dance floor. “Jacob’s having a pretty difficult time right now, what with three unsolved murder cases and Jazzy’s attacker still running free. Don’t forget that Jacob’s just a man, with a man’s weaknesses and a man’s needs. Mindy will stroke his ego, offer him comfort and understanding and then drag him out of here to the nearest bed, unless you do something to stop her.”
“Me?” Reve squeaked the question.
“Yes, you, missy.”
“And what could I do to prevent Jacob from—” Reve huffed. “I don’t give a damn what Jacob does or who he does it with.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“Now’s your chance,” Lacy said. “Hoot Tompkins just cut in. Go save Jacob while you can.”
“I’ll do no such thing.”
“Doesn’t look as if you’ll have to.” Lacy grinned. “He’s coming this way.” She leaned over and grabbed Reve’s arm. “If he asks you to dance, don’t say no. The guy needs rescuing, and you’re the one gal who can do it.”
“Evening, ladies,” Jacob said as he approached the bar.
“Evening, sheriff,” Lacy replied. “Want something to drink?”
“A Coke is fine.”
Lacy handed him a bottled Coke, then said, “Reve was just saying how she sure would like to dance, that seeing folks having so much fun, she wished she could kick up her heels a bit. It would do her a world of good.”
Reve gasped silently, but when Jacob turned to her, she forced a smile.
He held out his hand. “Care to dance?”
“I—uh—” She looked at Lacy, who nodded and mouthed the word yes. “Yes, I’d like to dance.”
He kept his hand in the middle of her back as they walked onto the dance floor. Feeling more awkward than she’d felt at her first formal dance when she was fifteen, Reve sucked in a big breath and went right into Jacob’s open arms. He kept a couple of inches between their bodies. Thank God!
The jukebox played an old Patsy Cline number, something titled “He Called Me Baby.” The words wove themselves around her, creating images in her mind, thoughts of lying in bed with Jacob and having him call her baby. All night long.
Somehow before she realized it was happening, she was pressed close to Jacob, her body melded with his, her head on his shoulder, his lips in her hair. He moved her slowly around the dance floor, his embrace strong and protective. She’d been afraid it would feel like this in his arms, afraid she’d love having him hold her this way.
The song ended, but Jacob didn’t release her, not until Mindy grabbed his arm. He turned to the other woman, one arm still around Reve’s waist.
“Hey, big boy, did you forget about me?”
“Nobody ever forgets about you, Mindy.”
“Who’s she?” Mindy asked.
“This is Reve Sorrell, Jazzy’s sister.”
Mindy looked Reve over, from head to toe. “I didn’t know Jazzy had a sister.”
Reve pulled away from Jacob. “If you two will excuse me, I’ll—”
Jacob grabbed her wrist. “Don’t run off.”
“Hey, what’s this? You’re with me tonight, Jacob,” Mindy said, then glowered at Reve. “Get lost, sister. I was here first.”
Reve hated this type of scene. It was so white trash, so totally beneath her.
“He’s all yours.” Reve jerked free and all but ran toward the bar.
When she paused at the bar, her pulse fast, her nerves unsettled, Lacy looked over Reve’s shoulder and said, “He’s not coming after you. What happened?”
“Mindy laid a claim on Jacob, in no uncertain terms.”
“And you let her get away with that?”
“I do not lower myself to squabble over a man with some trashy bleached blonde in a honky-tonk,” Reve said.
“Jacob isn’t just any man.”
“Give me a drink.”
“Another Coke?”
“Brandy.”
Lacy arched an eyebrow, but hurriedly poured the liquor Reve had requested.
Reve drank the brandy quickly. Too quickly. It burned a path down her throat and hit her belly like a hot potato. She gagged, then coughed several times.
“I’m getting out of here,” Reve said. “If anything comes up tonight that you can’t handle, I’ll be upstairs in Jazzy’s apartment.”
“Running away won’t solve anything,” Lacy said. “You’ll just spend a sleepless night wondering if Jacob’s bonking Mindy.”
Reve growled. “Good night, Lacy.”
If she didn’t get out of here—and fast—she might do something to embarrass herself, something she’d probably regret.
Without looking back, Reve flung open the front door. A zip of lightning pierced the black night sky. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she ran out of Jazzy’s Joint, her only thought to get away from Jacob. Crackling thunder exploded in the distance. Light raindrops dappled her hair and face. By the time she reached the outside stairs leading to Jazzy’s apartment, the cold rain was coming down in a heavy torrent, soaking through her pullover cashmere sweater, making her regret leaving her jacket behind in her haste to escape. She patted the right side pocket of her wool slacks and sighed with relief when she felt the door key she’d slipped in there earlier this evening.
The words to the old Patsy Cline song once again playing on the jukebox downstairs echoed in her head. More unwanted images appeared in her mind. Thoughts and feelings inspired by a man she wished she’d never met. Images of moss-green eyes peering into her, through her, reaching her very soul. Images of a thin-lipped, wide mouth curving into a mocking smile.
She hated him! Hated him for making her feel things she’d never felt. Hated him for releasing her most basic, most primitive emotions. Hated him for making her doubt herself, for weakening her strong resolve to always be in control. He seemed to derive a great deal of pleasure from tormenting her, as if he knew that one piercing look from him made her go weak in the knees. She’d done her best to hide her overwhelming physical attraction to him. Ever since returning to Cherokee Pointe, she had fought an internal battle against her own deep-seated desire for a man totally wrong for her.
For pity’s sake, she didn’t like him and he didn’t like her. They despised each other, didn’t they?
Reve stood outside Jazzy’s apartment, the rain drenching her, and fumbled in her pants pocket for the door key. Her hand trembled as she tried to insert the key in the lock. Damn, what was wrong with her? What difference did it make that Jacob Butler was down there in Jazzy’s Joint dancing with some floozy? Touching her with those big, hard hands of his. Nuzzling her ear. Whispering sweet nothings.
She dropped the key. It hit
the floor and bounced off the stoop onto the first step. Tears clouded her vision.
Get hold of yourself! You’re acting like an idiot. You don’t want his hands on you, touching, caressing. You don’t want him. You don’t, don’t, don’t…
From down below, she could still hear music wafting up from Jazzy’s Joint. It was that same damn Patsy Cline song playing on the old jukebox. Again. Had Jacob punched in the number one more time? Probably. He must really like that song. Either that or he’d realized the words to that particular song had really gotten to her. It was so like Jacob to taunt her. She felt as if that was all he’d been doing since the first moment they met.
I hope when he takes that bleached blond bitch home tonight, he can’t get it up. I hope she laughs in his face.
Yeah, like that would ever happen. She’d bet all her millions that he’d never had a problem getting it up. Not that big, savage stud. Her body tightened at the thought of Jacob’s erection. Once again images flashed through her mind. Jacob, naked, aroused, coming toward her.
Another streak of lightning illuminated the night sky, and a boom of thunder warned that the storm was intensifying, coming closer. Reve swallowed hard, then bent over to pick up the house key. But just as she reached for the small key lying on the wet step, a large, dark hand shot out and grabbed the key. Every nerve in Reve’s body screamed. She lifted her gaze and looked into a pair of slanted green eyes. Jacob Butler’s eyes.
“You shouldn’t be standing out here in the rain,” he told her. “You’re getting all wet.”
When he stood to his full six-five height and reached out to wipe the raindrops from her cheek, Reve shivered and backed away from him. Her hips pressed against the railing that surrounded the outer edges of the stoop.
Say something, she told herself. Don’t just stand here staring at him like an idiot, trembling like a frightened virgin on the verge of being sacrificed. But her mind went blank. Her throat tightened.
He reached around her, his arm brushing her side, and inserted the key in the lock, turned the doorknob and opened the door. When she didn’t move—couldn’t move—he grasped her arm just above her elbow and pulled her to him. Her body stopped just short of touching his, a hairbreadth between them. His mouth twitched in an almost smile.
“Get inside,” he told her, his voice a low, deep rumble.
She jerked away from him and rushed into the apartment, her wet feet making moist tracks on the floor.
Please, dear God, make him go away.
“You should get out of those wet clothes.” He came up behind her, but didn’t touch her.
Nervous, on the verge of hyperventilating, Reve gasped for air. If he touched her, she would die. But on the other hand, if he didn’t touch her, she would die.
CHAPTER 25
“Please, let’s not do this.” Veda looked from Farlan to Dodd and then to Max. “Didn’t we all suffer enough thirty years ago? Do we have to open old wounds?”
“I agree.” Dodd looked imploringly at Farlan. “I can’t understand why you’d—”
“Because I believe that Jazzy Talbot and Reve Sorrell are Dinah’s twins,” Farlan said. “When I met Reve Sorrell at the hospital the night Jazzy was attacked, I knew then that she was Dinah’s daughter. The resemblance is remarkable.”
A deadly hush fell over the room. Max’s eyes widened, his expression a combination of shock and fear. Dodd shook his head, denial written plainly on his face.
“I’ve told Farlan that it’s his imagination,” Veda said. “There might be some vague similarities, but that’s all. Dinah moved away and took her babies with her thirty years ago. There’s no way—”
“Good God, are you telling me that Jazzy Talbot is my cousin?” Brian asked. “How is that possible? She’s Sally Talbot’s niece. She’s lived here in Cherokee County all her life. If she was Uncle Dodd’s child, wouldn’t he have known? And what about Max? If he knew this Dinah person, wouldn’t he have seen the resemblance before now?”
“I never made the connection.” Max wrung his hands nervously. “I had no idea Jazzy was a twin. If I had known, I might have seen something, but—” he looked directly at Farlan. “What are you going to do about—I mean, if they are Dinah’s twins, will you—?”
“What’s the big deal?” Brian asked. “So Uncle Dodd fathered a set of twins thirty years ago. Either he acknowledges them as his children or he doesn’t. It’s not like the truth is going to hurt anybody.”
Brian’s calm, indifferent attitude amazed Veda. Knowing how detrimental the complete truth could be to him, Veda thanked God that he was unaware of those past events, that he’d been spared the memories that haunted her.
“You’re assuming the twins were mine,” Dodd said.
“Yes, I—” Brian stared quizzically at his uncle. “Are you saying they weren’t your children?” When Dodd didn’t reply, Brian looked to his father. “Who—?”
“The twins were—are—my daughters,” Farlan confessed.
“Damn!” Brian turned to his mother. “And you knew?”
Veda didn’t think she could bear another moment of this insanity. Everything she’d done, she’d done to protect her son, but if Farlan insisted on taking this revelation to its logical conclusion, how would the outcome affect Brian? He had always been Farlan’s only child, the heir to the MacKinnon fortune, but if Farlan proclaimed Reve and Jazzy as his children, what would happen? Thirty years ago that damn Dinah had done enough to hurt her family, to put Brian’s future in jeopardy. She had to find a way to end this nightmare before it went any further.
“Your mother and I came to an agreement,” Farlan told Brian. “When I explained to Dinah that I could never marry her, could never leave Veda and you, she agreed that the best thing for her to do was take the twins and move away. And that’s what she did. Or at least that’s what I thought she did.” Farlan zeroed in on Max. “You took her ten thousand in cash. And she drew on the account I set up for her for several years. Isn’t that right?”
Sheer terror in his eyes, Max looked away and stared at the floor.
“Answer me, damn it,” Farlan said. “That’s right, isn’t it? I entrusted you to handle the matter for me, as my lawyer and a member of my family.”
“I—I took the money to her apartment, just as you’d instructed me to do,” Max replied. “But she wasn’t there. She and the babies were gone. She’d already moved away. I asked some of the neighbors, and nobody had any idea where she’d gone. She hadn’t left a forwarding address or anything.”
Rage burned in Farlan’s eyes. Veda cringed. Oh, God, she had never dreamed this day would come—the day that Farlan would find out that Max had stolen hundreds of thousands of dollars from him, that Dinah and her twins had never seen a dime of the money he’d intended for them. Of course, she had known the truth all these years, but she’d kept Max’s dirty little secret because it had been to her advantage to do so. If Farlan had known Dinah and those babies had simply disappeared, he would have hired a private detective to find them.
“I’m sorry.” Max still couldn’t bring himself to look Farlan in the eyes. “You know how I was always short on money back then. When I couldn’t find Dinah, I thought what harm would it do for me to keep the money. I’d just intended to keep the ten thousand, but then when she never did show up asking for the money, I—I decided to forge her signature and withdraw the money you put into her account each month.”
“Are you telling me that Dinah and my daughters never received the money?” Farlan’s features were contorted with rage, his hands tightened into huge fists. “Why did you suddenly stop withdrawing money from the account? You told me that there was no need to keep depositing money into the account because Dinah hadn’t withdrawn anything from the account in quite some time. But it was a lie. All lies!”
“I don’t know why I did it. And I stopped because…well, I guess I got scared. And I started feeling really guilty. After all, Farlan, you’ve always been good to me, helped me and�
��”
“What do you know about Dinah’s disappearance? About the fact that those babies were abandoned?” Farlan charged Max, grabbed his coat lapels and shook him. “Answer me, damn you! I trusted you to help me take care of Dinah and my daughters.”
Dodd interceded, grabbing Farlan by the arm and jerking him away from Max. “None of that matters, now, does it? If Jazzy Talbot and Reve Sorrell are Dinah’s twins, then I’d say that they are what matters now. Everything else is unimportant. You can deal with Max later, once this current crisis has been handled.”
Farlan nodded. “You’re right. I have to find out for sure if they’re my daughters. I think I should go to Jacob Butler and tell him everything.”
“No!” Veda screamed. Had her husband lost his mind?
“I agree with Veda,” Max said. “What will going to the sheriff accomplish?”
Farlan speared Max with his gaze. “You, Maxwell, don’t have a say in this matter. You’ll be lucky if I don’t bring you up on charges.”
“Farlan, you wouldn’t,” Veda said. “Max is family. We protect family.”
“Jazzy and Reve may well be family, too. Someone tried to kill Jazzy,” Farlan said. “And there’s a possibility that it wasn’t the serial killer. That means—”
“Of course it was the serial killer,” Veda said. “She’s a redheaded slut who got dumped in the creek, just like those other women.”
“Don’t ever call my daughter a slut again,” Farlan told his wife. “Do you understand?”
Oh, yes, she understood. Farlan would defend and protect Dinah’s children, just as he had tried to take care of her. And he would love those girls, just as he’d loved Dinah.
“She’s not your daughter,” Veda replied in a voice far calmer than she felt. Inside, she was a mass of jittery nerves. “But even if she is, she’s still a slut. Just like Dinah.”
“Dinah was the sweetest, most loving young woman I’ve ever known.” Farlan focused all his attention on Veda. “She knew how to love.” He swallowed the emotions lodged in his throat. “She loved me.”
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