Without waiting for a comment from Dallas, she motioned to Drudwyn. “Time to go out, boy.” Her gaze fell on Dallas. “How do pancakes with maple syrup for breakfast sound to you?”
“Delicious,” he replied. “But please don’t go to any trouble for me. I usually just grab a quick cup of coffee before I head out in the morning.”
“Why don’t you take a shower, while I let Drudwyn out and start breakfast? I have a gas hot-water heater, so even with the electricity out, you’ll have plenty of hot water.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you to change into, but I don’t think anything of mine would work, and when Jacob moved into town last year, he didn’t leave any of his clothes behind.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“All right. When you finish your shower, you’ll find me in the kitchen.”
Although a powerful magnetism drew her to Dallas, she forcefully pulled herself away from him. As she went through the house toward the kitchen, Drudwyn at her heels, she thought about the peculiar feelings Dallas Sloan evoked in her. From the first moment she opened the door to him last night, she’d known he was destined to become important to her. As a friend? As a lover? Or simply as an instrument of change in her life? She wasn’t sure. She knew only that her fate was intertwined with the big, blond stranger’s.
When she opened the back door, Drudwyn bounded onto the porch and out into the snow. Shivering, she closed the door quickly. Two sets of high double windows on the outside walls let light flood into the kitchen. Genny flipped the switch to check for electricity. Just as she had suspected, the power was still out. She set about preparing the coffee in an old metal pot, then placed it atop the gas cookstove. While the coffee brewed, she prepared the batter for their pancakes. As she kept herself occupied, she tried not to think about this morning’s vision, but her mind kept replaying the scene over and over in her mind.
Another young woman dead. She’d been able to tell that the woman was fairly young because her breasts had been firm, her body supple. Who had been killed this time? And where? The first victim had been slaughtered on a makeshift altar in the woods. But this time the altar had been more elaborate, similar to ones used in churches.
Oh, God! Multicolored light. Stained glass. A decoratively carved altar. Had he murdered this woman in a church? In a church in Cherokee Pointe?
Genny’s hands trembled. A fresh egg fell from her fingers to the floor and splattered its sticky contents across the wide planks. She hurried to clean up the mess and get on with preparing the pancakes. There was absolutely nothing she could do for the second victim, just as there had been nothing she could do for Susie Richards. Why, Lord? Why give me this incredible gift and not allow it to be used to save lives?
Fifteen minutes later, Dallas joined her at the kitchen table. His thick, unruly hair was still damp, and a day’s growth of brown beard stubble added a rather rakish quality to his ruggedly handsome appearance. His dark slacks and white shirt were wrinkled, but his slightly disheveled appearance didn’t seem to bother him at all. And oddly enough, Genny thought it made him all the more appealing.
“Something sure smells good,” he said.
“Please, sit down. Everything is ready.”
They sat across from each other at the big, round table and ate in relative silence, occasionally exchanging glances. While she picked at her food, he ate heartily and asked for seconds.
“Would you like another cup of coffee?” she asked as she rose from her seat.
“Stay there,” he told her. “I should be waiting on you. After all, you cooked for us.”
“I have to get up anyway. Drudwyn and the others need to be fed.”
“The others?”
“The squirrels, raccoons, birds, and other wild creatures that depend on me in weather like this.”
“You must have quite a feed bill if you’re providing food for all the animals out there in those woods.”
“I have more than enough money for my needs, so I share my bounty with others.”
Dallas finished his breakfast, downed his fourth cup of coffee, then gathered up their dishes and placed them in the sink. He glanced out the window and saw Drudwyn racing around in the snow, playful and exuberant despite the desperate cold. Then he caught a glimpse of Genny. She wore a heavy, black wool coat over her pajamas and robe, thick rubber boots on her feet, and a black knit cap pulled down over her ears. She stood in the middle of the backyard and was surrounded by a variety of animals. Squirrels. Raccoons. Possums. A couple of foxes. A deer. A silver-gray wolf. And birds perched on her shoulder and outstretched arm.
Dallas blinked to clear his vision, thinking he had imagined the scene before him. Not his imagination. It was real. Genny Madoc had charmed the wild animals in the forest. They came to her like babes to their mother. He’d never seen anything like it. And although he was seeing it now with his own two eyes, he found it incomprehensible.
An odd feeling hit him in the pit of his stomach. He’d humorously considered her a witch who had cast a spell over him last night. Seeing her now, in this setting, with a host of spellbound animals circling her, Dallas didn’t find the thought of Genny possessing some sort of unearthly power quite as amusing.
Get a grip, Sloan, he told himself. Genny isn’t a witch, because there is no such thing as witches. She hasn’t cast a spell over you or those animals. You find her sexually appealing. And as for the animals—she’s probably been feeding them for years. Yeah, that was it. Those explanations made sense to him. They were logical.
Suddenly the birds flew away and the animals scattered. Genny turned her head and looked toward the front of the house. That’s when Dallas heard the drone of motors in the distance.
Genny came running into the house, stripping off her coat and hat as she flew into the kitchen. “The snowplows are coming up the mountain,” she said breathlessly. “We’ll be able to get into town soon.”
“We?” Dallas asked.
“Your car is still in the ditch, so we’ll take mine. We can send a wrecker back for yours. We both want to see Jacob as soon as possible, don’t we?”
“Why do you want to see—”
“To tell him about the second victim,” she replied. “But it’s possible he already knows. I feel fairly certain she was killed in a church, probably one of the fancier churches in town. None of the country churches have stained-glass windows.”
“What are you talking about? You’re actually going to bother the sheriff with that crazy dream you had? You don’t honestly think it was real, that what you dreamed really happened.”
Genny stared at him quizzically, as if he’d spoken to her in an alien language. “You don’t understand, do you? No, of course not.” She tossed her coat and hat on the table, then kicked off her boots. “I’ll freshen up and get dressed. We should be able to head down to Cherokee Pointe very soon.”
As she raced past him, Dallas reached out and grabbed her arm. She halted, glanced over her shoulder and looked directly at him, as if to ask What?
“You’re right, I don’t understand,” he said. “How about explaining it to me?”
She tugged against his grip. He released her immediately. “Everybody in these parts knows about me. My grandmother and both of her grandmothers before her were…different. And so am I. I’m able to sense things, see things, feel things that other people don’t.”
Dallas glared at her. Hell, what was she trying to tell him? Whatever it was, he already didn’t believe her.
“Before you start trying to convince me that you’re some sort of soothsayer or psychic or whatever the hell all the phonies call themselves, don’t bother,” Dallas said sternly. “If I can’t experience it through my five senses, then I don’t believe it.”
“Ah.” Her mouth formed a soft oval. Moisture glistened in her black eyes.
“Ah, what? You act like I’m the crazy one for not believing you.”
“No one
knows except Jacob and my friend Jazzy—and probably Sally and Ludie—about my recent vision. If you stay in these parts for a while, you’ll meet Sally and Ludie.” Genny shook her head. “That’s neither here nor there, of course. The truth is that whether you believe me or not, it doesn’t matter. Jacob believes me. He knows.”
Genny rushed out of the kitchen, leaving Dallas with his mouth hanging open. Well, she told you, didn’t she?
After a few minutes, he followed her, not willing to leave things as they were between them. When he caught up with her in her bedroom, he walked in on her just as she jerked her pajama top over her head and threw it on the bed atop her robe. Holy shit! Hurriedly, she removed the bottoms, which left her completely naked. He stood frozen to the spot, looking at her, devouring her perfect body with his gaze, unable to move or speak.
When she tossed her pajama bottoms on the bed, she must have sensed his presence. She turned, then gasped. Her eyes rounded in surprise.
“Sorry,” he said, lying through his teeth. To his dying day, he’d never regret this moment. Genny Madoc might be a certifiable nutcase, but he didn’t care. Her beauty took his breath away.
She didn’t scream or try to cover her nakedness. She simply stood there, allowing him to drink his fill. After a couple of minutes, he realized how totally inappropriate his actions were.
“Genny…I-I’ll wait for you in the living room.” He turned and practically ran down the hall.
When he reached the living room, he pounded his fist against the wall. “Idiot!” The sight of Genny in all her naked glory flashed through his mind repeatedly. She was small and slender, delicately made. Her skin, the color of light honey, was flawless. Tiny waist. High, round breasts, peaked with dusty peach nipples. Full, tapering hips. A tight, lush butt. And a triangle of jet black hair nestled between her trim thighs.
Dallas swallowed, then cursed under his breath. He had the hard-on from hell.
Jim Upton caught his grandson trying to sneak up the back stairs. The boy had been out all night doing only God knew what. Jim hadn’t slept much, worrying about Jamie, wondering just what the hell kind of mischief he’d been up to. Some of his usual nonsense, no doubt. Screwing some two-bit floozie. Drinking himself into oblivion. Gambling away money he’d never earned. Getting into a fight and landing himself in jail or winding up in County General’s ER. Seeing Jamie all in one piece, with no black eyes or broken bones, allowed Jim some momentary relief. More than once these past few years he’d been on the verge of writing the boy off as a lost cause. But Reba would champion their only grandchild to her dying day, no matter what he did.
Jim walked across the big, modernized kitchen and stopped at the foot of the stairs. “Glad to see you finally made it home.”
Jamie stopped dead in his tracks. He squared his shoulders and turned to face his grandfather, a silly, aw-shucks grin on his handsome young face.
“Morning, Big Daddy.” Jamie made his way back down the stairs. “Looks like it’s going to be a right pretty day, despite the foot of snow we got last night.”
“Got caught in town, did you?” Jim asked. Jamie shrugged. His cocky grin widened. “Yeah, something like that.”
“You could have called. Your grandmother was worried sick about you. And Laura was none too happy that you’d deserted her.”
“I’ll smooth things over with my ladies. Don’t worry. They’ll forgive me.”
“Reba will forgive you for anything, but I won’t. You’d better keep that in mind. Sooner or later, you’ll cross the line as far as I’m concerned.”
Jamie reached over and grabbed Jim’s shoulder. “We’re both men of the world. You know how it is. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
Jim glowered at his grandson. “Exactly what is it that you do, boy, other than spend my money and raise hell?”
Jamie laughed, an infectious, lighthearted chuckle that personified his shallow, flippant personality. “Don’t tell me you don’t understand what it’s like to need a little variety. Laura is a sweetie. Really she is. But every once in a while I need something a bit spicier. You adore Big Mama, but that doesn’t mean you don’t dip your quill in other inkwells and we both know it.”
Anger heated Jim’s face. The unmitigated gall of the boy! “We aren’t discussing my behavior.”
“Don’t get all huffy.” Jamie patted Jim on the chest. “You’re liable to give yourself a heart attack and we don’t want that. I didn’t mean any offense. I was just stating a fact. You’ve kept something on the side for as long as I remember, so don’t go getting all righteous on me just because I—”
Jim slapped Jamie soundly across the cheek, the force of the blow sending the boy reeling backward. Jamie caught hold of the counter behind him, then lifted his hand to his stinging cheek.
Jamie glared at his grandfather. “What’s the matter? Can’t stand to hear the truth, old man?”
“Your grandmother wants to see you married to Laura, so if you know what’s good for you, you won’t do anything to run that girl off the way you did the other two you brought home.” Jim swallowed, then took several deep, calming breaths. “If Laura finds out that you spent the night with—”
“I didn’t spend the night with Jazzy, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Jim cocked his eyebrows inquisitively.
“Jazzy was just punishing me by sending me away,” Jamie said. “She’ll give me a hard time for a week or two, then she’ll come around. She always does.”
“Then who were you with?” Jazzy had mentioned she thought Jamie had left her place with a woman named April or Amber.
“What difference does it make?” Jamie’s eyes widened with speculation. “Are you afraid I might have been diddling your latest lady love?” Jamie laughed right in Jim’s face. “Hell, unless your mistress hangs out at Jazzy’s Joint, I didn’t screw her last night.”
Damn fool boy! He didn’t know the first thing about keeping a mistress faithful. He thought most women were sluts who would spread their legs for any man. Jim knew better. If a man chose wisely and kept the lady content, she didn’t go to other men for satisfaction.
“Get your ass upstairs, take a shower and change clothes, then come back downstairs for breakfast with the family,” Jim said. “You tell your grandmother and Laura that you went into town to see one of your old high school buddies and got caught by the snowstorm. Tell them that you’re sorry you worried them, but by the time you realized you couldn’t get home, it was too late to call and wake everyone.”
Jamie grinned. “Yes sir. Whatever you say. And may I compliment you on your ability to weave a convincing tale.”
Jim grunted. With his stupid grin in place, Jamie turned and bounded up the stairs. Before he made it halfway up, he started whistling.
Jim heaved a deep sigh. That good-for-nothing boy was his legacy to the world. A sad and sorry thought. He’d wanted more children, but Reba had been unable to conceive again after Melanie’s birth. A cruel trick of fate had taken away the son he’d been so proud of and the daughter he’d loved to distraction. How was it that Jamie was so different from Jim Jr.? Had he inherited some weak genes from his mother? Or had Reba and he simply ruined the boy by overindulging him all his life? But they’d spoiled Jim Jr., hadn’t they? Yet he’d been a credit to his family.
Enough of this, Jim told himself. Can’t change a damn thing. A man makes do with the hand he’s dealt. Concentrate on the positive things.
He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot the housekeeper had prepared earlier, before she’d gone back to her quarters to get ready for the day. Mug in hand, he made his way down the hall and into his study. He closed the door securely behind him, crossed the room, and sat down behind his massive mahogany desk. After taking several sips of black coffee, he placed it on the leather coaster in front of him and lifted the telephone. He dialed her number and waited.
“Hello,” the sultry feminine voice said.
“How’d you make it t
hrough last night’s storm?” he asked.
“Just fine. But I’d have enjoyed being cooped up here a lot better if you’d been with me.”
“I probably won’t be able to make it out there today.”
“I figured you wouldn’t.”
“I wish you had come to the party last night,” Jim said. “You got your invitation, didn’t you?”
“I got it. But I didn’t think I’d enjoy seeing you with your wife. I’m quite jealous of her, you know.”
A warm feeling came to life in his gut. “You got everything you need out there to see you through a few days until the roads clear up?”
“I’ve got everything I need…except you.”
“You’ve got me. Got me wrapped around your little finger.”
“If only that were true.”
“Be careful, will you? I don’t like the idea of you being out there all alone with a killer on the loose.”
“I have the gun you gave me,” she said. “And I know how to use it.”
“Just be careful. And don’t let anyone inside the house you don’t know and trust.”
“Come see me just as soon as you can. I miss you.”
Jim’s penis twitched. She had a way of bringing him to life with just the sound of her voice. “I miss you, too…but I’ve got to go. I’ll call you this evening.”
The dial tone hummed in his ear. He was a damn old fool and he knew it. Erin Mercer was twenty-five years his junior, a fine-looking woman, and really didn’t need him to support her. He’d met her several years ago when she’d first moved to the area. And he’d known the minute he saw her that he wanted her. She was no whore, so paying her for her services had been out of the question. He’d figured he didn’t stand a chance with her. He’d been wrong. She had been the one who’d chased him, lured him into her bed and kept him coming back, begging for more. It couldn’t last. His affairs never did. He’d never wanted anything permanent from any of his mistresses. But Erin was different. He was halfway in love with her, and if he was ten years younger, he’d ask Reba for a divorce.
The Fifth Victim Page 8