With Tim at his side, Jacob approached the crowd. “Mr. and Mrs. Walker?”
“Yes, that’s us.” A short, stocky man in his mid fifties moved forward, a plump, rosy-cheeked blonde about the same age hugging his side.
“Where are you folks from?” Jacob asked.
“Nashville,” Mr. Walker replied. “We come up here every year about this time. And we’ve been renting the same cabin the past five years.”
“We sure do appreciate y’all contacting the fire department,” Jacob told them. “I wonder if you might answer a few questions.”
“Certainly, Sheriff. You are the sheriff, aren’t you?” Mr. Walker asked.
“Yes, sir. Sheriff Jacob Butler.” He held out his hand and he and Walker shared a brief shake. “We’ve had a homicide in Cherokee County, and there’s a good chance the car down in the ravine is connected to that crime.”
“Is there a body in the car?” Mrs. Walker asked, her eyes wide with wonder.
“No, ma’am,” Jacob said.
“We’ll answer any questions you have to ask,” Mr. Walker said.
Jacob nodded. “Before y’all saw the smoke coming from the ravine, did either of you see or hear anything out of the ordinary? Did you see someone on the road? Or did you see the car—a green Jaguar—go by here any time this morning?”
Walker shook his head. “We slept late. I’d just walked out on the deck with my first cup of coffee when I saw the smoke. Regina was still in bed.”
“I see. Well, thanks. And thanks, too, for allowing us to use your cabin to question the folks in the other nearby cabins. It shouldn’t take long, and then we’ll turn the place back over to y’all.”
Jacob herded Tim toward his truck and the two got in and drove up the road and onto the drive leading to the Walker’s rental cabin. As he pulled the Dodge Ram to a halt, Jacob noticed Caleb McCord sitting in a rocking chair on the wide front porch. The minute Jacob jumped out of his truck, Caleb bounded down the steps to meet him.
“What’s going on with that car in the ravine?” Caleb asked. “I hope whatever it is won’t hold me up for long. I’ve got a very important date at two-thirty this afternoon.”
“With Jazzy?” Jacob asked.
“Yeah, with Jazzy.”
“When did this come about?”
“Why so curious, Butler? I thought you two were just friends.”
“We are,” Jacob replied. “And as Jazzy’s friend, I look out for her.”
“I’m Jazzy’s friend, too. Remember that.”
Jacob barely knew McCord, but his gut instincts warned him there was more to the man than met the eye. And those same instincts that had saved his life more than once when he’d been a SEAL told him he could trust McCord. Jacob certainly didn’t possess Genny’s inherited sixth sense—her gift of sight—but he usually guessed right about people. He had his own kind of sixth sense. Like getting good vibes from Dallas Sloan when they’d first met. He got those same positive vibes from McCord.
“And you want to be more than friends with Jazzy, don’t you?”
“I might.” McCord’s forehead wrinkled as he narrowed his gaze. “You got a problem with that?”
“Nope. Not as long as you treat her right. Jazzy needs a man who’ll appreciate what a special lady she is. And she’s going to need a man to stand by her whatever comes.”
McCord’s gaze centered on Jacob’s eyes. “What’s really going on and how is Jazzy involved?”
“What makes you think—?”
“Cut the crap, Butler. Just lay it on the line for me, will you? You’re talking in riddles.”
“Jamie Upton’s dead,” Jacob said. “He was murdered sometime early this morning. In one of her visions, Genny saw the murderer—a woman who fits Jazzy’s description—driving a green sports car”—Jacob nodded toward the road—“that we’re pretty sure is the same one that was dumped in the ravine over there and set on fire.”
“Genny thinks Jazzy killed Jamie?”
“No, Genny believes a woman wearing a wig to give her a similar took to Jazzy—”
“Reve Sorrell,” Caleb said. “There was this woman who came to town yesterday who drove a green Jag and looks enough like Jazzy to be—”
“Her twin. Yeah, I know. And believe me, as soon as I leave here, Ms. Sorrell is first on my list of people to question. But for now I need to know if you or any of the other residents around here saw anything earlier today.”
“I can make it short and sweet. I didn’t see or hear anything until your deputy came pounding on my door. I was up most of the night, so I’d planned to sleep all morning. And just so you know that Jazzy has an alibi—I was with her until nearly dawn.”
“Jamie was probably killed after dawn,” Jacob said. “But we figure he was with this woman most of the night. We think she drugged him, then—” Jacob cleared his throat. “She tortured him for hours. Cut him up with knives and razor blades and used a hot poker on him.”
Caleb didn’t so much as flinch. “Gruesome stuff. I’d say your lady killer is a real sicko.”
“Yeah, I agree.” Jacob glanced at the cabin. “I need to question the others. You’re free to go.”
“Has anyone told Jazzy about what happened?”
“Genny and Dallas are probably with her right now.”
“I think I’ll head on into town. Jazzy’s going to need all her friends.”
Jacob nodded, then turned and walked up the steps and onto the front porch. Yeah, his gut instincts were right on the money about Caleb McCord. He’d be real surprised if the guy didn’t come through for Jazzy a hundred percent.
Four people waited for him inside the cabin. Three women and one man. He recognized Erin Mercer, of course. She was a wealthy amateur artist who’d come to live in Cherokee County over a year ago. Rumor had it that she was Big Jim Upton’s latest mistress. Rumor also had it that Jamie had been sniffing around her since his return home this past January.
“How do you do,” Jacob said as he entered the cabin. “I’m Sheriff Jacob Butler and I appreciate y’all volunteering to come here and answer a few questions.”
“Your deputy was rather mysterious,” Ms. Mercer said. “He told us only that you wanted to ask about a car that was set afire in a nearby ravine.”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s right.” Jacob glanced from person to person. “Since y’all are staying in the cabins closest to the site of the fire, I was hoping one of you might have seen something—either the car or someone on foot along the road.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t see anything or anyone,” Erin said. “I drove into Knoxville last night after dinner and just arrived home less than thirty minutes before Deputy Willingham knocked on my door.”
“All right. Thank you, Ms. Mercer.” Jacob turned to the lone man in the room. He had his arm around a young woman who seemed terrified. “And you folks are?”
“Tony and Mandy Landis. We’re here on our honeymoon. And my wife”—he hugged her protectively—“is awfully upset about being questioned by the sheriff.”
Jacob looked reassuringly at the pretty redhead, who wore no makeup and had her long, auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Mrs. Landis, I’m sorry we had to bother you on your honeymoon and even sorrier that being herded over here has upset you. All I need from you folks is to know if you saw or heard anything that might help us find the person who dumped that car off in the ravine.”
Tony Landis blushed profusely, and only then did Jacob realize that despite his black five-o’clock shadow and deep baritone voice, the guy probably wasn’t a day older than his bride, who looked about twenty. If Mandy was indeed his bride. Jacob’s guess was that these two twenty-something kids were not Mr. and Mrs.
“We—we didn’t see anything. Honest to God, we didn’t. We’re on our honeymoon. You know how that is.”
Jacob patted Tony on the back. “Yeah, son, I know how that is.” Actually Jacob didn’t know what it was like to be on his honeymoon since he’d never been m
arried, but he sure as hell knew what it was like to spend a whole weekend in bed with a lady friend. “Why don’t you two go on back to your cabin? And thanks for helping us out.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Tony grabbed Mandy’s hand and all but dragged her toward the door.
Jacob then turned to the lone woman sitting quietly on the sofa, her hands resting in her lap, her ankles crossed in a ladylike fashion. Just looking at her, it was difficult to judge her age. She could be either a well-preserved fifty or a rode-hard-and-put-away-wet thirty-five. Jacob figured she was in her mid forties. For some reason she looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her.
“Ma’am?”
When she lifted her head, he got a good look at her. A real pretty lady, with a warm smile, big blue eyes, and white-blond hair. “No, I’m afraid I didn’t see or hear anything either. And I’m terribly sorry that I can’t help you.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “There must be something more going on than just a car set on fire for the sheriff himself to be questioning tourists.”
“Yes, ma’am, there is,” Jacob admitted. “And you’ll hear all about it on the local news soon enough. We’ve had a murder in Cherokee County this morning. A young man was killed, and we have reason to believe that the murderer was driving the car that’s burning over yonder in the ravine.”
“My Lord! If you know the murderer was driving that car, then you must have an eyewitness.”
“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say, ma’am. By the way, what is your name?”
“Oh, forgive me.” Her small, delicate hand fluttered over her chest. “I’m Margo Kenley. I’m just a tourist. I rented a cabin for a month-long stay.”
“Well, Ms. Kenley, you’ve just made it unanimous—no one saw anything.”
“Sheriff?” Erin Mercer said.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Can you tell us who the victim was? Is it someone I might know?”
“As a matter of fact it is. The murdered man was Jamie Upton.”
Erin gasped, her eyes widening in shock. “Jamie’s dead and—and someone killed him?”
“That’s right.”
“Does Jim—does his family know?”
“Big Jim was with us when we found the body,” Jacob said.
“Oh, mercy. Poor Jim. That boy meant the world to him. And to Miss Reba, too. They must be devastated.” Tears glistened in Erin Mercer’s eyes.
Jacob thought Ms. Mercer’s surprise and tears were genuine. He didn’t peg her for the type of woman who would torture a man. But then again, he didn’t really know the lady. Didn’t know anything much about her.
“Ladies, thank you.” Jacob tipped his Stetson, then turned and left.
He had another stop to make before heading back to his office and starting in on the mass of paperwork involved in a murder investigation. Maybe it was too much of a coincidence that Reve Sorrell’s car had been driven by the killer, that Jamie had romanced her, and that the lady bore a striking resemblance to Jazzy. If so, did that mean the killer had set up Ms. Sorrell to take the fall and not Jazzy? Or could it be that the woman was as guilty as hell and just hadn’t covered her tracks very well?
Galvin MacNair finished his examination, then removed his sterile gloves and shoved them into a plastic sack in his medical bag. Poor girl, Galvin thought as he glanced at Laura Willis. Small and delicate, with an ethereal beauty, she looked like a wounded angel. His heart went out to her. He knew he should control his emotions better when it came to dealing with patients, that he shouldn’t agonize over telling this young woman her true condition. His ex-wife Nina had once told him that he cared too damn much and that fact would keep him from ever being a successful doctor. Maybe she’d been right. And perhaps the day would come when he could be totally objective when it came to dealing with patients, but he doubted it. It wasn’t in his nature to doctor another human being without truly caring, without becoming emotionally involved to some degree.
“Would you like for your mother to come in now?” Galvin turned his back to allow Laura some privacy while she redressed.
“No. Not yet. I—I want to know if…” She burst into fresh tears.
Galvin rushed to her side, sat down on the edge of the bed, and put his arm around Laura’s trembling shoulders. “Hush, hush. I promise that I’ll do everything in my power to help you. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, losing your fiancé and now…your parents will be here for you. Your sister. And Big Jim and Miss Reba.”
Laura looked at him, tears glistening in her eyes. “Am I going to lose my baby?”
God, how he hated to tell her the truth, but he couldn’t lie to her. Sugarcoat the truth just a little, he told himself. What will it hurt? “There’s a chance you’ll miscarry. You’re bleeding heavily and…but there is always hope. We’ll get you to the hospital right away and I’ll—”
“No one knows I’m pregnant. I hadn’t even told Jamie.” She made a loud choking sound when she gasped.
“Laura, I want you to lie back and try to relax,” Galvin told her. “I’m going to call the hospital and make arrangements. Then I’m going outside”—he nodded to the closed bedroom door—“and tell your parents and the Uptons about what’s happening.”
She grasped the lapels of his sports coat. “Please, Dr. MacNair, save my baby.”
“I’ll do everything humanly possible.” For several minutes, he held her in his arms and let her weep softly. He lifted his hand and caressed her long, silky hair. When she calmed somewhat, he eased her down onto the bed, got up, and walked to the door. Once outside the bedroom, he was bombarded by the Willis family and by Big Jim.
“What’s wrong with her?” Cecil Willis asked, his eyes filled with concern.
“I want to see her right now,” Andrea said.
Galvin’s gaze scanned the group, then zeroed in on Laura’s mother. “Laura is pregnant. Probably six or seven weeks. But I’m afraid she’s aborting the child and there isn’t a great deal I can do to prevent it.”
“My God!” Cecil gasped.
“Yes, I was afraid of this,” Andrea said. “The minute I saw the blood, I suspected. You see, I’ve had several miscarriages myself.”
“You say Laura is pregnant.” Jim Upton came alive with hope.
Galvin hated to be the one to dash that hope, especially given the present set of circumstances, but he couldn’t allow the man to believe that a great-grandchild was a possibility. It would take a miracle to save Laura’s baby.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Upton, but I don’t think there’s any way we can prevent Laura from miscarrying.”
Chapter 14
Numb, her mind barely functioning, Jazzy sat there staring off into space. She had felt so many things at first—grief, fear, anger, despair—that such a strong response, such a combination of feelings, had rendered her emotionally impotent. Mentally she accepted the fact that Jamie Upton was dead—brutally murdered by some sadistic person. The thought had registered in her mind, but not in her heart. Only last night she had believed herself free of him forever. She’d even celebrated that life-altering realization. But God in heaven, she should have known that she could never be free from Jamie. He was like some incurable disease. From time to time, she went into remission, but the illness doomed her happiness.
“Jazzy, can I get you something?” Genny asked. “More tea? Or a sandwich?”
Jazzy shook her head. Dear, sweet Genny, with her mother-to-the-world kindness. Jazzy glanced at the untouched cup of tea Genny had prepared for her over an hour ago, right after Dallas had left.
“It’s cold.” Genny followed Jazzy’s line of vision to the teacup. “You need something warm and soothing.”
When Genny picked up the cup of cold tea and headed toward the kitchen, Jazzy called to her. “I don’t need tea or coffee or…I need to understand what happened, why it happened, and how it is that I’m involved.”
Genny turned, set the cup on a nearby table, and faced Jazzy. “The most
important thing we must concern ourselves with is how you’re involved. And even though we both know you didn’t kill Jamie, I keep getting these odd forebodings. Whoever killed Jamie wants you to be blamed for his murder.”
“But who? Who would hate Jamie enough to torture him to death? And whoever she is, she hates me enough to want to see me blamed for a crime I didn’t commit.”
Genny came over and sat down on the sofa beside Jazzy. “We both know that the list of women in Jamie’s life is endless. He’s broken dozens of hearts over the years.”
“So why would she focus on me to take the fall for Jamie’s murder?”
“Because you’re the only woman Jamie even came close to loving,” Genny replied. “You’re the woman Jamie kept coming back to, over and over again.”
“I’d say it was Laura Willis, but I don’t think she’s capable of murder. Certainly not torture. She comes across as being a very nice young woman.” Jazzy recalled their brief conversation in her office last night. She could hear Laura begging. If he remains tied to you, in any way, he’ll never be able to commit to me, to our marriage. Please, please…set him free.
“Even so, we don’t really know her, do we? And Dallas says that everyone is capable of murder, given the right set of circumstances.”
“Yeah, he’s probably right.” Jazzy rubbed the back of her neck. “I suppose I had more reason to kill him than anyone else did, and that’s why I’ll be the number one suspect.”
“But there is no evidence against you. There can’t be. You didn’t kill Jamie. You were here in your apartment when he was murdered.”
“Here all alone. I don’t have an alibi.”
“You have an alibi for part of the night,” Genny reminded her. “Caleb was here with you.”
At the mention of Caleb, Jazzy remembered their plans for this afternoon. A real date. So many hopes and dreams tied to a date that would never be. “Oh, God, I have to call him. We have a date for two-thirty. What time is it anyway?”
“It’s almost noon.” When Jazzy started to get up, Genny shoved her gently back onto the sofa. “Let me call him and tell him what—”
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