The only thing he’d ever wanted that they hadn’t allowed him to have was a life with Jazzy Talbot. At twenty he’d wanted to marry the girl, but Reba’d had one conniption after another just at the thought.
“She’s nothing but a little white-trash whore,” Reba had said. “And that aunt of hers is as crazy as a Betsy-bug.”
Jim didn’t kid himself into thinking that if they’d let Jamie marry Jazzy, things might have turned out differently. The marriage wouldn’t have lasted. Nothing was permanent in Jamie’s life. He wanted variety, excitement, and challenges. But most of all he wanted what he couldn’t have. That’s why he still wanted Jazzy so damn much. He’d put that poor gal through hell more than once.
Jim lifted the receiver from the phone on his desk, dialed the number, and waited.
She answered on the fifth ring, her voice groggy with sleep. “Yeah?”
“Jazzy, this is Jim Upton.”
“What do you want?”
“Reba’s concerned because Jamie left his welcome-home party and hasn’t returned. By any chance is he there with you?”
Jazzy laughed. “I assume the new fiancée is not in the room with you.”
“No, she and Reba have retired for the night.”
“Jamie’s not here.”
“Do you have any idea where he is?”
“I might.”
“Would you mind telling me?”
Jazzy sighed. “He came by to see me at Jazzy’s Joint. We talked. I told him to get lost. And Jamie being Jamie, he didn’t take it well, so he latched on to the nearest woman he could find to make me jealous.”
“He picked up someone in the bar?”
“That’s right.”
“Do you know—”
“I think her name was April or Amber. She’s been in a few times, but I don’t know her personally. I’d say he’s probably with her.”
“Thank you, Jazzy. And…I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for waking me?”
“Yes, that, too, but mostly sorry that Jamie never had the backbone to stand up to his grandmother and marry you despite her protests.”
Jazzy was silent for several minutes. “Tell that new fiancée of his to run as far and as fast as she can.”
The dial tone buzzed in Big Jim Upton’s ear.
Jacob had sacked out on the cot in his office at the courthouse instead of going home. After tossing and turning for nearly an hour, he’d finally fallen asleep sometime after midnight. When the ruckus outside his office door woke him, he punched the button on his digital watch to light the face. Four-twelve.
“I want to see Jacob right now!” a man’s voice shouted.
“But he’s sleeping,” Deputy Tewanda Hardy informed the irate man. “He’s worn to a frazzle.”
“Dammit, woman, get out of my way. I need to talk to Jacob.”
Jacob lifted himself into a sitting position on the edge of the cot, ran his hand over his face, yawned heavily, and rose to his feet. He’d recognized the man’s voice. Mayor Jerry Lee Todd. What the hell had put Jerry Lee into such a panic?
By the time Jacob took a couple of steps, the office door swung open and Jerry Lee stormed into the room, Tewanda hot on his heels.
“Sorry, Jacob,” Tewanda said, “but the mayor insisted on seeing you immediately.”
“It’s all right,” he told his deputy. Tewanda was his only female deputy and one of the best, if not the best, he had. She was taking courses at UTC in Knoxville to get her degree, so he arranged her schedule so she could work nights. Her dream was to become a lawyer, and Jacob had no doubt she’d make a good one. Already she knew as much about the law as he did. Maybe more.
“You’ve got to help me,” Jerry Lee said.
“What’s wrong?” When Tewanda flipped on the overhead light in Jacob’s office, he took a good look at the mayor. The guy looked like death warmed over. Drenched to the skin, his face red from exposure to the frigid temperatures and his hair plastered to his balding head, he was a sorry sight, downright pathetic. Jacob glanced past Jerry Lee to Tewanda, who lifted her hand to her lips repeatedly in a gesture that told him she believed the mayor was drunk.
“Have you been drinking?” Jacob asked.
“Yes, I’ve been drinking,” he replied. “I was out at Big Jim’s for a welcome-home party for Jamie tonight and I had a couple of glasses of champagne. And then I had a few sips of Scotch at the house, to warm myself up. But I’m not drunk.” He whirled around and glared at Tewanda. “I’m upset, dammit, not drunk.”
“Whatever you say, Mayor Todd.” Tewanda rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.
“Would you mind leaving us? I need to speak to Jacob alone,” Jerry Lee said.
Without another word, Tewanda turned and exited the office, but she left the door open. Jerry Lee kicked the door closed behind her.
“Women shouldn’t be deputies,” Jerry Lee said.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” Jacob crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s four o’clock in the morning. What couldn’t wait until a decent hour?”
“Cindy’s missing.”
“What?”
Jerry Lee rubbed his closed eyelids with his fingertips. “She left the party early. Caught a ride with the new doctor and his wife.” He opened his eyes and stared toward Jacob, but his gaze was unfocused as he continued explaining. “I’ve talked to them. They said they dropped her off on their way home, around nine forty-five. I got home a little after eleven and she wasn’t there.”
“Any reason why she would have left you?” Jacob asked, knowing full well that half the town had heard about Cindy and Jerry Lee’s marital brawls.
“She didn’t leave me. All her stuff is still at the house. Whenever she takes off for a few days, she always packs a couple of bags. Nothing’s missing.”
“Maybe she spent the night with a friend.” Jacob purposely didn’t mention the friend’s gender. Cindy had a reputation for sleeping around and had cheated on Jerry Lee with at least half a dozen men—maybe more—during their six-year marriage.
“She never stays out all night with any of her friends. She’s always home by this time of the morning.” Jerry Lee slumped down in one of the two chairs facing Jacob’s desk. The man aged ten years right before Jacob’s eyes. “I know what you’re thinking. You believe she’s gone off with some man, but I tell you she hasn’t.”
Jacob walked over and placed his hand on Jerry Lee’s shoulder. “How can you be so sure?”
“Her latest is that Carson guy. You know, the wannabe actor/director who’s in charge of the town’s little theater.” Jerry Lee entwined his fingers and popped his knuckles. “I called him and he wouldn’t talk to me, so I went over to his apartment. He finally admitted that she’d been there last night, but swore she’d left before eleven.”
Jacob wanted to feel sorry for Jerry Lee, but he couldn’t. He’d brought a lot of this misery on himself. He’d married the wrong woman, refused to let her go, then had taken out his misery on her and everyone else around him.
“Give me a list of her friends,” Jacob said. “Around six I’ll make a few phone calls.”
“She’s not with any of her friends. I’m telling you, she’s in trouble. I feel it”—he punched his stomach with his closed fist—“in here. We’ve got ourselves a killer running loose in Cherokee County—”
“Don’t go jumping to conclusions. Cindy’s probably just fine and she’ll show up at home in a few hours.”
“Do you really think so?”
Jacob nodded.
“I want to fill out a missing person’s report,” Jerry Lee said. “And if she doesn’t come home, I want you to—”
“If she isn’t home by noon today, call Roddy Watson. You live in town, remember? You’ll need to file a report with the Cherokee Pointe police.”
“Yes, yes. I know. It’s just I trust you to find Cindy for me. You know about our past history and all. Roddy and I play golf together, we belong to the country club, our
mothers are bridge partners. You understand.”
Yeah, Jacob understood all too well. Jerry Lee didn’t want to involve his friend, the chief of police, a man the mayor considered his social equal. He could admit to Jacob that he’d confronted Cindy’s most recent lover, but he could never be that honest with a friend.
“Why don’t you go home, try to get some rest, and if Cindy doesn’t show up by noon, give me a call and we’ll go from there.”
With his shoulders slumped and weariness etched on his features, Jerry Lee rose from the chair, held out his hand, and said, “Thanks,” as he shook Jacob’s hand.
The minute the mayor left, Tewanda brought two cups of coffee into Jacob’s office and handed one to him. He looked up from where he sat behind his desk and smiled at her as he accepted the coffee.
“He’s a real piece of work, isn’t he?” Tewanda said.
“Why, Ms. Hardy, saying something like that makes me think you don’t like our mayor.”
“Like him?” Tewanda harrumphed. “The man’s a bigot, a wife beater and a—”
“Don’t hold back, tell me what you really think of him.”
“I hope Cindy Todd has run off with somebody and stays gone for good.”
“If she has run off with some guy, I wish she’d left Jerry Lee a note or something. As it is, he’s going to run us crazy if she doesn’t come home.” Jacob sipped on the hot coffee and sighed with pleasure when he realized it was fresh. “You made a fresh pot. Thanks.”
“As soon as Jasmine’s opens for breakfast at six, I’ll run out and get us some sausage biscuits,” Tewanda said. “Until then, I’ve got peanut butter and crackers if you want some.”
“Nah, thanks.” He held up the orange UTC mug. “This will tide me over for the time being.”
Tewanda glanced down at the photographs spread out on Jacob’s desk. Crime-scene photos of Susie Richards’s mutilated body.
“Makes me sick at my stomach just to look at those,” she said.
Jacob gathered up the photographs, slid them into a folder, and laid them aside. “We did everything we were supposed to do, but I doubt it will be enough to catch this guy. He didn’t leave us much to go on. He covered his tracks like a pro, which tells me he’s done this sort of thing before.”
Tewanda shivered. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
“Yeah. If he’s done it before, he’ll do it again. I just hope we find him before another innocent person is killed.”
After a restless night, Jazzy woke at dawn. She had slept an hour, woke, and thought about Jamie. Then she’d slept another couple of hours, woke, and thought about Jamie. The pattern had repeated itself all night—except for when Big Jim’s telephone call woke her around one-thirty.
Had she seen Jamie? Hell, yes! He’d come by Jazzy’s Joint around ten-thirty. One look at him and her stomach had tied in knots. Even now she wasn’t sure whether the reaction had been lust or fear. Perhaps both.
He’d been so damn sure of her that she’d derived a great deal of pleasure from telling him to leave her the hell alone. He had pressed her; she’d retreated.
“I’m over you,” she’d told him. “I’ve moved on. So don’t think you can walk back into my life and crawl back into my bed. Never again!”
Half the patrons in Jazzy’s Joint had heard her screaming at him. She didn’t care. The whole damn town knew their sordid history, knew she’d gotten pregnant with Jamie’s baby when she was seventeen, knew his grandmother had forbidden him to marry her. Most folks thought she’d had an abortion and she’d never told them any different. Only a handful of people knew the truth—Aunt Sally, Ludie, Genny, and Jacob. She’d miscarried at three and a half months. A part of her heart had died with that sweet little baby.
As she climbed out of bed, the chill in her bedroom encompassed her. She reached out and lifted her robe off the foot of the bed, then slipped into it as she headed for the bathroom. After relieving herself, she went to the tiny kitchen in her second-story apartment over Jasmine’s and hurriedly prepared the coffeemaker.
She glanced out the window facing the east and saw the first faint glimmer of dawn. Was Jamie asleep at home with his latest fiancée, or was he in bed with the woman named April or Amber or something that started with an A and had a cutesy sound to it? He was with one or the other, Jazzy thought. He’d made love to one of those women, held her, kissed her, and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. That woman could have been her. All she’d had to do was welcome him back into her life. He’d be with her now and every night for as long as he was in town, if only she’d said yes.
Her body ached for his.
Jazzy opened the refrigerator, took out a carton of orange juice, and drank straight out of the carton.
Was it Jamie her body ached for or was it just a man? Any man? She hadn’t been with anyone in a long time. Despite what people thought—that she was a slut—Jazzy took sex seriously. Over the years, there had been a few men other than Jamie, but not many. And she’d cared about each of them, had hoped for a future with each of them, and had been disappointed by each of them.
A part of her might always love Jamie, but she wasn’t in love with him anymore. He was poison to her. Every time he breezed into town, he came to her and renewed her hope for something real and lasting between them. But not this time. Not ever again. She’d cried her last tear over Jamie Upton!
Dallas woke instantly when he heard the woman’s screams. He shot straight up in bed. For a moment he didn’t remember where he was. You’re in Genny Madoc’s home in Tennessee, in the mountains, he reminded himself. Good God, had that been Genny screaming? He jumped out of bed, slid into the slacks he’d tossed across the cedar chest at the foot of the bed last night, and then eased his Smith & Wesson semiautomatic from his hip holster and raced out into the dark hallway.
“Genny?”
Silence.
“Genny?” he called again as he rushed toward her bedroom.
He knocked on the door. No response. He knocked again. Drudwyn growled. And then he heard a soft, weak voice.
“Help me,” she said.
He flung open the door, not knowing what to expect. A kerosene lamp’s dim glow shimmered over the room, illuminating the mantel on which it rested and casting shadows across the wooden floor and over the flowery wallpaper. Genny lay in the middle of the bed, unmoving, rigid, her gaze focused on him as he made his way to her.
Drudwyn growled when he approached the bed.
Genny closed her eyes and instantly the dog quieted. If he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn the animal had read Genny’s mind.
As he leaned over her, his gaze fixed to hers, he asked, “What’s wrong? Are you sick? Are you in pain?”
She nodded, then whispered, “Yes.”
Okay, he knew a little first aid, enough to get by in a pinch, but if there was something seriously wrong with Genny, then they were in big trouble.
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” he asked. “And what can I do to help you?”
“Stay with me.” She glanced at the edge of the bed.
“Do you need me to help you to the bathroom?” Maybe she had a stomach virus or food poisoning.
“No, I’m not sick.” Her voice was breathless, as if she’d run a race and was now exhausted.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Is the telephone working?” She looked at the extension on the bedside table.
Dallas lifted the receiver to his ear. Dead. “No. It’s still out.”
“Try my cell phone.”
“Where is it?”
“In the drawer in the nightstand.”
He opened the drawer, removed her small phone, and looked to her for instructions.
“Call Jacob.” She recited the number.
“Damn,” Dallas said. “Still no reception.”
Tears flooded Genny’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter. He’d be too late to save her even if we could get in touch with him.”
Dallas
tossed the cell phone back into the drawer, then sat down on the bed beside Genny. “What are you talking about? Who couldn’t Jacob save?”
“The woman he’s going to kill.”
“I don’t understand—”
“I had another dream. Another vision. He’s going to kill again. He may already have sacrificed her.”
Dallas grabbed Genny and jerked her into a sitting position. With his hands clutching her slender shoulders, he glared into her mesmerizing black eyes.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I saw her on the altar. Windows with light. Colors. Stained-glass windows maybe. And the sword. He was excited. Waiting. Waiting for the right moment.”
What the hell was going on? What sort of crazy dream had Genny had? “You must have had a nightmare,” Dallas said. “With a killer on the loose, your imagination kicked into overdrive.”
“It wasn’t just a dream…it was…” her voice faded.
Suddenly Genny fainted. She fell into Dallas’s arms. Delicate. Fragile. Helpless. Dallas cursed loudly.
Chapter 5
For a split second Dallas couldn’t think straight. All he could do was react to the feeling of having this beautiful woman in his arms. Although she was small and slender, her body rounded in all the right places. At the present moment her high, full breasts were pressing into his naked chest. And her long, silky black hair draped over his shoulder. He took a deep breath, eased Genny off him, and laid her gently back on the bed.
She’d said that it wasn’t just a dream. What did that mean? Some maniac had cut a young girl wide open out in the woods in the county where Genny lived. Her cousin was the sheriff and had probably told her more than he should have about the gruesome murder. Undoubtedly she’d had the recent killing on her mind when she’d gone to bed, and her subconscious had created a hideous nightmare.
The Fifth Victim Page 6