The Last To Die
Page 23
"You're reaching, "Jacob said. "And if Caleb needs a gold star for honesty and integrity, maybe I can help get him one."
Wade glowered at Jacob. "What the hell are you talking about?"
''We're running a check on McCord," Dallas said. "I've got some friends at the Bureau doing me favor."
Wade shook his head, then looked up at the ceiling. "Screw the Bureau. Even if you can give me evidence that McCord is a fucking saint, I can make a jury believe he'd lie to protect his woman. Any man on the jury will take one look at Jazzy and realize they'd do just about anything-lie, cheat, steal, maybe even kill-to get a piece of her ass."
"Is that what this is all about?" Jacob got right up in Wade's face and glared down at him. Although tall, Wade stood a couple of inches shorter than Jacob. "You had a thing for Jazzy a few years ago, and she wouldn't give you the time of day."
Snarling, Wade leaned toward Jacob, taking a defensive stance. "You know me better than that. Or at least I thought you did."
Dallas set his coffee mug on Jacob's desk, walked over, and clamped his hand down on Jacob's shoulder. "Cool off."
Jacob tensed the moment Dallas touched him. He wanted to smash his fist into Wade's handsome face. Jacob closed his eyes for a split second, then took a deep breath. He shrugged off Dallas's hand and stepped back, away from Wade.
"Let's just agree to disagree on this one," Wade said. It's my job as the DA to take action when we have this much evidence against a person."
And when Big Jim is breathing fire down your neck," Jacob said.
"Yeah, there's that, too," Wade admitted. "Look, I'm ^^ng Judge Keefer to issue a warrant for Jazzy's arrest.
And it'll be your job as sheriff to send someone to pick her up."
Wade glanced from Dallas to Jacob, then headed toward the closed door. After he opened the door, he paused and, without glancing back, said, "You'll have that warrant before five."
Once Wade left, Jacob stomped across the floor, lifted the telephone receiver, and started dialing. Dallas pressed his finger down on the base, disconnecting the call in progress.
"Whoever you were calling, let it wait. You need to take some time to think calmly. Rationally. We knew before Wade Truman showed up that it was only a matter of time before you'd have to arrest Jazzy."
"Do you have any idea how fucking mad I am? At Wade. At myself! I'm the goddamn sheriff. It's my job to protect the innocent And Jazzy is innocent. Plus, out there somewhere is a crazy woman who just might be thinking about whacking off some other guy's balls."
"We'll find her," Dallas said. "And when we do, Jazzy won't have to go to trial. But for now, you'll do what you have to do. We've already got a suspects list started- women we know for sure had motive to kill Jamie. And all of them might have been MIA the morning Jamie was butchered. We start by checking out their alibis."
"Erin Mercer says she was in Knoxville at the time, but wouldn't say where or with whom." Jacob could feel the tension draining from him. Dallas was right. He couldn't stop the inevitable-Jazzy's arrest. What he could do was put a bright spotlight on the other suspects. "Laura Willis's mother claims both of her daughters were asleep in their beds at the Upton mansion."
"Yeah, well what about Mrs. Willis?" Dallas asked. "If Jamie was diddling both Willis girls, their mother might have thought he deserved to die."
''We don't know for sure about Jamie and the younger Willis girl."
"Nah, we don't know for sure, but I'd lay odds that Sheridan Willis always wants whatever her big sister has. And that included Laura's fiancé."
Jacob glanced at the telephone. "By the way, I was going to call Genny. I thought maybe she should be with Jazzy when I arrest her."
Dallas nodded. "I thought you were calling McCord and I knew that if he was there when Jazzy was arrested, he might cause trouble and you'd have to book him, too. The guy's fuse is almost as short as yours. And he's as protective of Jazzy as I am of Genny."
"When do you think your people will have that in-depth report on him?" Jacob asked. "My call to the Memphis PD told us very little about him personally. All we know is that McCord was a cop whose partner was shot to death and that McCord almost died himself. According to the MPD chief, McCord was an okay guy, but he was a loner and nobody knew much about his personal life."
"Teri should get back to me by tomorrow at the latest. If anybody can find out the personal details of Caleb's life, Teri can."
Jacob frowned. Caleb McCord was hiding something. Jacob could feel it in his bones. "I'm telling you that there's something about that guy."
Something that might affect Jazzy or in some way affect this murder case?"
"Maybe. Yeah."
"You know Genny is convinced that Caleb is the guy to make all Jazzy's dreams come true. She thinks we're going to distrust him." 'Yeah, I know. And Genny is usually right. But not always. Sometimes she lets that big heart of hers overrule her common sense and her sixth sense."
* * *
When he opened the door and saw her standing there, Bobby Joe Harte wasn't sure whether he was glad to see her or sorry he'd ever met her. She was only a few years away from being jail bait. But she sure as hell didn't act like any nineteen-year-old he knew.
"Hey there, lawman." Sheridan Willis punched him in the chest with the tip of her index finger, urging him; backward, into his apartment. "Miss me?"
He didn't budge, despite the fact his pecker throbbed just looking at her. "What do you want? Why are you; here?"
She puckered her lips into a fake pout. "Now, is that any way to talk to a girl who knows how to give a guy a great blow job?"
"Is that right? Maybe if Jamie Upton was still alive, I could ask him." Damn, he hadn't meant to let that slip. When he'd heard Jacob and Dallas discussing suspects and they'd mentioned Sheridan, he had been more than a little surprised.
"What makes you think Jamie and I… that I ever gave Jamie-"
Bobby Joe grabbed her shoulders and jerked her into his apartment, then kicked the door shut. "I'm your alibi, you know. But how the hell do you think it's going to make me look to the sheriff if I have to tell him you couldn't have killed Jamie because you were too busy fucking my brains out that morning?"
"Why should the sheriff care what you do when you're not on duty?" Sheridan laid her hands over his where they gripped her shoulders. "I'm of age. I'm not married, and neither are you."
"Damn it, Sheridan, I should have said something to the sheriff when your name came up on his suspects list." Hell, Jacob was going to skin him alive.
"Why didn't you?" Sheridan pulled Bobby Joe's hands down her arms and around her hips, then placed them on her butt.
He swallowed as he gazed into her eyes. "I don't know. Stupidity I guess. Or maybe I was just out-and-out embarrassed that I'd had a one-night stand with a teenager. And not just any teenager, but Jamie Upton's future sister-in-law, who just happened to be screwing around with him."
Sheridan lifted her arms
up and around his neck and rubbed herself seductively against him. "Why does it have to be a one-night stand?"
"Slow down, girl." Bobby Joe tried to push her away. "If you had a thing for Jamie, you sure are doing a good job of covering up your grief."
Sheridan shrugged, then smiled wickedly before she wandered around the living room, looking everything over as if she were considering buying the place. "I cared about Jamie. I'd have made a better wife for him than Laura would have. God, she's such a wimp. Miss Goody-goody. Daddy's favorite child." Sheridan whirled around and grinned at Bobby Joe. "But I'm not one to waste my time mourning a lost cause. Cut your losses and move on is my motto."
"You're a heartless bitch."
Sheridan lifted the edges of her long-sleeved cotton sweater up and over her head, exposing her upper torso. Her naked breasts all but screamed at Bobby Joe to touch them. Round, firm, and perky. He remembered how it felt to have one of those tight, puckered nipples in his mouth. His sex swelled and hardened instantly, she glanced down at his crotch and grinned.
"Why did you come here?" Bobby Joe asked her, know-^g all along that he was a condemned man. He was going to fuck her. No doubt about it. And the devil could nave his soul later.
"I should think that would be rather obvious," Sheridan told him as she unzipped her jeans, then rubbed her fingers over her mound while she licked her lips.
When he saw the dark triangle of curls between her thighs appear, he realized she wasn't wearing any panties. "How much is this going to cost me?"
She laughed as she shrugged off her jeans and held out her hands, beckoning him to her. Not giving a damn, what her asking price was, Bobby Joe unzipped his pants and reached inside to free his penis. He'd pay the piper later, after he'd heard the tune.
When he shot across the room, grabbed her, and lifted her up on the wide sofa back, she spread her legs and gripped his shoulders. He lifted her just enough to accomplish his goal, then rammed into her without even a preliminary kiss. But hell, she didn't need any fore-play. The savage little bitch was already dripping wet Holding her hips securely, he maneuvered her back and forth. She went crazy, scratching him, licking him, biting him, as they went at each other. It didn't take long for him to come. While he jetted into her, she climaxed and practically climbed him like a tree.
When he was able to catch his breath again, he started to release her, but she held tight and toppled them over the back of the sofa and down onto the cushions. With him lying on top of her, she licked his ear. He shuddered. Then she whispered, "I don't think Jazzy Talbot killed Jamie." She paused, apparently giving him a minute for her statement to sink in. "I think my sister Laura killed him."
* * *
Chapter 17
Jazzy wondered if her imagination was working overtime or if what she suspected was really true-that someone was watching her. Had some nutcase decided she was fair game because the whole town thought she killed Jamie? Was some lunatic stalking her? Maybe.
But thinking back, she'd gotten some peculiar vibes a week or so before Jamie was murdered. She hadn't thought much about it, had actually dismissed the notion, but she could no longer shake that eerie feeling that somebody was following her, watching her, keeping tabs on her every move. It wasn't that she'd actually caught anyone in particular, it was simply a feeling.
Okay, Jaz, admit it-people are staring at you, whispering behind your back, pointing fingers. A few locals had been cruel enough to call her a murderer to her face. That's why she had avoided mixing and mingling with the customers at her restaurant and at Jazzy's Joint and spent tier time in her office at each place. But there had been Just as many people who'd tried to be nice by saying Things like, "About time somebody killed that SOB." Or a few even said, "I don't blame you for torturing that sorry asshole to death." The bottom line was that just about everybody in Cherokee County believed she had killed Jamie.
The evidence had certainly piled up quickly. A bloody knife found in her office. Forensic testing had shown it! was Jamie's blood. Then there was the book of matches from Jazzy's Joint-with her fingerprints on it-and the red scarf Jacob had given her as a birthday gift. Add to those things Tiffany's and Dillon's testimony about seeing a woman fitting Jazzy's description on the mountain road only a few hours before Jamie died. But don't forget the most damning evidence of all, she reminded herself. The fact that numerous people could testify to the fact that she had threatened Jamie. More than once.
Jazzy sank down on the sofa in the living room, drew her legs up to her chest, and circled her knees with her arms. Although Genny, Sally, Ludie, and Caleb had been smothering her with attention, almost as if they were afraid to leave her alone, she'd managed to persuade them that she needed some time by herself. Just an afternoon holed up in her apartment to sort through her feelings. It was bad enough having to deal with Jamie's death, but knowing it was only a matter of time before she was arrested for his murder was terrifying.
I didn't kill him. Those words repeated themselves over and over inside her mind… and her heart. But you could have killed him. You're capable of murder. That terrible night only a few months ago, you came damn near close to shooting him. To blowing his balls off!
Jazzy shuddered as those haunting moments played vividly inside her head. She would have shot him, possibly killed him, if he hadn't backed off. But she wouldn't have killed him out of hatred or for revenge. Not ever. Only to protect herself.
She needed a good lawyer. A smart lawyer could show a jury that all the evidence against her was either circumstantial or had been planted. Everything was too neat, too pat, so obviously planned to frame her.
First of all, neither Tiffany nor Dillon could swear the woman they saw driving a sports car up the dark mountain road was Jasmine Talbot. All they could say was that it was a woman with short red hair who might have been Jazzy. A good lawyer could point out that a woman who could pass for Jazzy's twin had been in town when Jamie was murdered. All she-or any woman, for that matter-would have needed was a really good red wig.
And the book of matches didn't really mean anything. Her fingerprints were probably on a lot of the match-books, since she usually was the person who placed them beside the ashtrays on all the tables at Jazzy's Joint.
The scarf was damning evidence, as was the knife. But she kept the scarf in her Jeep to use whenever she rode around with the top down. And half the time she didn't lock her Jeep. Anyone could have stolen the scarf.
Then there was the bloody knife. No person in their right mind would have hidden the murder weapon in their own office. Anyone who knew Jazzy knew she was too smart to have done something so stupid.
She began rocking back and forth, her thoughts shooting off into a dozen different directions as she tried to make
sense out of her life. Jamie was dead. The man she'd loved, the man she'd hated. Oh, Jamie, you might have been unkind and selfish and downright good for nothing but you didn’t deserve to die the way you did. Just the thought of how he must have suffered made her heart ache. It seemed strange that she would never see him again, never hear his voice, never have to send him away… not ever again. Tears gathered in her eyes. Unwanted tears. She had spent a lifetime crying over Jamie Upton.
Think about yourself. Concentrate on what you need to do to protect yourself. Maybe she should find herself a lawyer now, before she was charged with murder. But who? What about Maxie? He was the best trial lawyer in Cherokee; County. But Maxwell Fennel didn't come cheap. So. You’re not exactly poor. You’ve got a hefty savings account. We're talking about your life here, Jaz. You could wind up in, prison or even be sentenced to death.