Who the hell? he wondered. It had to be well past midnight. They'd left Jazzy's Joint a little after ten. He'd noted the time right as they were leaving to come upstairs.
Jazzy groaned.
"Want me to get it?" he asked. Mm-hmm." She snuggled against him as he reached over her to the bedside table.
Caleb grabbed the receiver. "Yeah?"
Silence. Then a man's voice said, "McCord, is that you?"
"Who wants to know?"
Jazzy lifted her head and looked inquiringly at Caleb.
'' Dallas Sloan," the voice on the phone said.
Sloan wouldn't be calling at this time of night unless something was wrong. "What's up?" Caleb asked, al1 y aware that he didn't want to hear whatever it was.
Not tonight. Not when everything was so right between Jazzy and him.
"Genny had another vision," Dallas said. "Another man has been killed, his genitals whacked off. Genny's certain that it's the same person who killed Jamie.''
A hundred thoughts fought for dominance in Caleb' mind. How would this affect Jazzy? Would she be blamed for the murder? Or would this remove suspicion from her?
"Has it already happened?" Caleb asked.
"Genny's not sure, but she thinks, yes, it's already a fait accompli. She wanted me to get in touch with Jazzy first before I call Jacob and we start searching for the body. Genny says that Jazzy needs an alibi. Genny saw the woman's hair again. Same color and style as Jazzy's."
"Holy shit! Not again." Caleb tightened his hold around Jazzy's slender waist. "Well, she's got one. We've been together since nine o'clock and before that dozens of customers saw her at Jazzy's Joint."
"Stay with her," Dallas said. "Don't leave her until we know for sure the deed's been done."
"Call us as soon as you know something, will you, Sloan?"
"Will do."
The minute Caleb hung up the phone, Jazzy rose up and over him, her face only inches from his. ''That was Dallas? Why did he call? Is Genny all right?"
When Caleb sat up in bed, he brought Jazzy up with him into a sitting position, then draped his arm around her naked shoulders. "Genny had one of her visions. She saw another man murdered-his privates cut off the way Jamie's were. She's sure it's the same woman because she had short red hair, just like yours."
Jazzy took a deep breath. "I have an alibi this time. I haven't been alone all evening."
"If nothing else, this murder should give the district attorney second thoughts."
"Did Genny recognize the man?"
"Dallas didn't say, but probably not or he would have mentioned a name."
They're going to start searching for the body, aren't they? Genny will go with Jacob and Dallas."
They'll call us when they know something."
"Maybe we should-"
Caleb pressed his index finger over her lips. "No."
"No?"
"We are not going with them. We're staying right here."
"You're getting awfully bossy all of a sudden," she told him. "Just because we slept together, doesn't mean-"
"I don't think we've done any sleeping," he said. "At least not yet."
"Damn, you know what I mean. Just because we're lovers now does not mean you get to give me orders."
He grasped her face between his fingers and thumb, forcing her to look at him. "We're more than lovers, aren't we?"
She stared at him, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
"Okay, I don't have the right to give you orders, even if you were my wife. But what we have, who we are to each other, does give me the right to protect you."
"You want to protect me?"
"Protect you, take care of you, make you happy." He released his tenacious hold on her face.
"You, Caleb McCord, are one of a kind." She kissed him. A tender, loving, grateful kiss.
Hugging her close, he rested his chin on the top of her head. "I was just thinking the same thing about you, sweetheart. There's nobody in the world like you."
* * *
She drove the truck to within half a mile of where she had dumped the green Jaguar. Along this stretch of road there were numerous steep ravines suitable for what she had in mind. She'd covered Stan Watson's body with a tarp she'd found in the massive steel toolbox attached to the truck bed. Luckily she hadn't run into another vehicle since she'd left Honey Bear Trail fifteen minutes ago. Before leaving, she had gone into the woods and buried the bloody knife she'd used on Stan-his own knife!-only a few feet away from where he'd buried her black plastic bag. It could be years-or maybe never- before anyone discovered that sack and its contents. She hadn't wanted to kill Stan. She hadn't even known him. But once he'd seen her digging that hole in the ground, out in the woods, she'd had no choice. She had been merciful. She'd killed him quickly. And she'd even given him a farewell fuck. It was the least she could do for an innocent man.
Killing Stan screwed up her plans somewhat. If Jazzy Talbot had an alibi for tonight, then the sheriff and the district attorney might start questioning whether Jazzy had killed Jamie. But maybe, just maybe, there were enough differences in the two murders that the law would assume this was a copycat killing. She had left Jamie's body in the cabin. She would burn Stan's inside the truck. And if that weird mountain girl Genny saw any visions about Stan's death, she would report that he hadn't been tortured. At least not much.
I hope you 're alone, Jazzy Talbot. I hope you don't have an alibi. If you don’t then this second murder will seal your fate.
Andrea Willis woke with a start. She heard voices. Sitting straight up in bed, she listened. Laura and Sheridan were arguing.
She glanced at the bedside clock. Twelve-twenty-five. Why were their daughters having a shouting match at this time of night? She got out of bed, slipped into her robe and shoes, then quietly made her way out of the room, leaving Cecil asleep. Whenever he took a sleeping pill, he slept like the dead. More and more often, he relied on medication in order to rest, just as she did. But tonight she'd left off her medication.
The girls were standing outside in the hallway, near the back stairway. Both were fully dressed. Odd, Andrea thought. Why would they be dressed? She hurried toward them and the minute they saw her, they quieted immediately.
"What in God's name is going on?" Andrea demanded. "What if someone overheard you?"
"Nobody heard us, except you," Sheridan said. "Big Jim stayed at the hospital and it would take a bomb exploding on his chest to wake Daddy."
"What about the servants?"
"The servants' rooms are downstairs," Sheridan reminded her mother.
"Who's going to tell me what's going on?" Andrea demanded.
Laura hung her head. Sheridan grimaced.
"Why aren't you two in bed asleep at this time of night? It's past midnight."
"I've been out," Sheridan admitted. "I had a date."
That fact didn't sur
prise Andrea in the least. She looked at Laura. "And you?"
I was restless, so I went out somewhere… I think."
"You think?" Andrea's heart caught in her throat. "Where is Mrs. Conley?"
I don't know. Asleep, I guess," Laura replied, he should have awakened when she heard you two screeching at each other." Andrea turned to Sheridan.
''Tell me in one or two sentences why you and your sister were arguing."
"When I came in, I caught her sneaking up the back stairs, so I asked her who she'd gone out and killed tonight," Sheridan said.
Acting purely on instinctive rage, Andrea slapped Sheridan, who jerked back and glared at her mother. Then she rubbed her cheek and grinned.
"Admit it, Mother, you think she might have killed Jamie."
"I didn't," Laura told them. "I-I couldn't have. I loved Jamie. We were going to have a baby."
Andrea put her arm around Laura's shoulders, then glanced at Sheridan. "Go to bed. And from now on, keep your opinion to yourself. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am." Sheridan headed for her room.
"Come with me." Andrea led Laura into her bedroom. The room lay in moonlit shadows. Andrea flipped on the overhead light. Mrs. Conley, snoring loudly, sat in the overstuffed chair in the corner. A empty cup rested on the floor beside the chair. Andrea left Laura standing in the middle of the room and went to check on the nurse. She called the woman's name. No response. She tapped on her shoulder. Mrs. Conley continued snoring. Andrea shook her. She grunted, but didn't awaken. Drugged! The woman had been drugged. Andrea whirled around and glared at Laura. "What did you give her?"
Laura hugged herself and looked everywhere but at her mother.
Andrea rushed over, grabbed Laura and shook her. "What did you give Mrs. Conley? Do I need to call an ambulance?"
"It was just a couple of Daddy's sleeping pills," Laura admitted. "I got tired of her watching me like a hawk.
She wouldn't even let me go pee without leaving the bathroom door open."
"Laura, Laura… -what am I going to do with you?"
"Love me. Please, Mother, love me the way you do Sheridan."
Andrea wrapped her arms around her elder daughter and held her. "My poor little Laura."
Sally Talbot showed up at Jazzy's apartment promptly at six o'clock. Caleb was in the kitchen preparing coffee when she knocked on the door.
"How's our girl?" Sally asked.
"Still sleeping," Caleb said. "It was after four before she finally fell asleep again."
"Dallas called me right before I left the house." Sally glanced toward the closed bedroom door. 'They found another vehicle burning down in a hollow, not half a mile from where they found that other one."
"When?"
"About an hour ago."
"I think I'll drive up there and see what they know."
"Figured you'd want to. That's why I'm here. To look after Jazzy. She don't need to go with you."
"I agree." He nodded toward the kitchen. "Coffee's on. I'll grab a mug before I head out." Caleb walked toward the bedroom.
"What are you doing?" Sally asked. " Don't wake her UP or she'll want to go with you."
''I won't wake her. I just…" He felt awkward admitting his feelings to Jazzy's aunt. "I just want to take another look at her before I leave."
Sally grinned, then turned and headed for the kitchen.
Caleb opened the door and tiptoed into the semi dark room. Jazzy lay under the sheet, curled in a ball on her side. He crept over to the edge of the bed and looked down at her. God, she was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen.
Admit it, McCord. You 're in love with her.
Unable to resist the temptation, he reached out and ran the back of his hand gently across her cheek. She sighed and turned over on her back, but didn't wake up. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. She murmured something incoherent in her sleep.
"I love you," he whispered, knowing she couldn't hear him.
Her breathing was deep and even. Restful. Her lips parted and she said one word plainly. ''Jamie…"
* * *
Chapter 23
While Genny slept on the cot in Jacob's office, recovering from their early morning search, he and Dallas sat in the outer office with a couple of his deputies, Moody Ryan and Bobby Joe Harte. Although Genny had been able to point them in the right direction and helped them find the spot where the truck had been abandoned and burned, she'd been unable to pick up the location where the murder had actually been committed. Before she'd passed out from exhaustion, she'd told them definitely that the murder hadn't occurred nearby.
"Farther up the mountain," Genny had said. "Near a thickly wooded area. Isolated. Maybe only one cabin anywhere close."
Jacob had left the forensics team going over the fiery truck site. And he'd put in a call to Knoxville. A second murder in a week's time was all too reminiscent of the serial killer that had stalked Cherokee County three months ago, so he was damned and determined to do his best to stop this killer before another man fell victim to her black-widow tactics. From the charred remains of the body inside the truck there was no way to tell for sure who the man had been, and Pete Holt had said it had definitely been a man. The body would be shipped out to Knoxville by noon today. Until then, they could only speculate as to who the victim was. But the truck was another matter. Although badly burned, the truck was still intact enough to make out the model. And as luck would have it, the car tag, which apparently had been held in place by a decorative plastic frame, had fallen off on the ground and escaped being blackened when the plastic frame melted. They'd immediately run a search on the tag and found the truck belonged to Stanley Watson, a maintenance man who worked for Cherokee Cabin Rentals.
Propped on the edge of Moody's desk, his legs crossed at the ankles, Jacob held the list of job assignments Stan's boss Hoot Tompkins, the manager of the rental cabins, had given them.
"Hoot said his men took their assignment sheets from him every morning, then decided for themselves which job to do first, unless told otherwise, "Jacob said. "We've got a couple of guys from our department and from Dallas's going from cabin to cabin to find out if Stan finished up on all these jobs. "Jacob tapped the assignment sheet he held. "If one was left undone, that might mean it was the last place he stopped before he was killed."
"Do you think it was her?" Bobby Joe asked and when all eyes focused on him, he swallowed hard. "Not Miss Jazzy. I didn't mean her. I'm talking about whoever really killed Jamie Upton. You think the same woman killed Stan Watson?"
"We're only guessing that it's Watson," Dallas said. "It was his truck and the guy isn't at home and nobody's seen him since around lunchtime yesterday."
"If it is the same person-the killer, I mean…" Bobby Joe paced around the room as he spoke nervously. "Doesn't that put Miss Jazzy in the clear?
If she's got-got an alibi this time, then maybe we should- should be looking elsewhere for Jamie's killer."
Jacob studied his deputy. Bobby Joe was stuttering and acting like a worm in hot ashes. He sure wasn't his usual laid-back, easygoing self. "What the hell's wrong with you?"
At the sound of Jacob's roar, Bobby Joe froze in his tracks. "Nothing's wrong with me."
"You sure are acting peculiar," Dallas commented.
''That's what I was thinking," Jacob said.
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