Blackmail (11 page)

An emotion so strong it nearly knocked her over held her breath captive. She swayed.

Jon moved his hand from her shoulder, down her arm, to rest at her waist.

Her pulse raced. Her blood pressure had to be off the charts. And suddenly the air felt hot and still.

Very hot.

His eyes locked on hers. She dared not look away, not when every fiber of her being wanted to be in his arms.

Jon licked his lips and her heart flipped. Ever so slowly, he dipped his head.

“Hey, Sadie…where do you hide the spare toilet paper?” Caleb asked from the kitchen door.

T
he sun couldn't break through the morning clouds. Saturday dawned with a promise of rain to Louisiana. Any rainfall would clear the air from the pollen coating everything in Lagniappe.

Sadie trudged down the hall to the kitchen, desperate for a cup of coffee to wake her. Sleep had teased her all night, fragments of dreams of Jon Garrison's eyes, and her brother's bad timing. Well, maybe not so bad after all—he'd killed the moment before things got out of hand. What had she been thinking? She had no idea the state of Jon's salvation, yet she'd almost fallen right back into her old habits. She groaned as she filled the coffee filter, poured water into the pot's basin and pressed the button to start the brewing.

She glanced at the clock—already after ten. Sadie was normally an early riser, but today, with little to no sleep, she dragged her heels. She glanced at the clock again. If she was up, Caleb should be, too.

Her first knock on his door went unanswered. She knocked harder the second time and called out his name.

No response.

Her heart flipped. Had the blackmailers found out she'd increased her investigation efforts? She twisted the knob and pushed open the door.

Nothing but a rumpled bed met her gaze.

Panic seized her heart in a tight fist. Had they come and taken Caleb? Carried him out to the bayou?

Sadie rushed down the hall to her room. Bile stung the back of her throat. She grabbed a pair of jeans and slipped them on, tugged on a shirt and grabbed a pair of socks on her way out. She half walked, half hopped down the hall while putting on her socks. Should she call the police? Would they believe her? Knowing what she now knew, would they even help her because she hadn't reported the letters?

Tears burned her eyes as she made her way to the kitchen door, where she kept her tennis shoes. She jammed her feet inside and turned for her purse.

“Where are you going?”

Caleb stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh, Caleb. I thought they'd taken you.” She rushed to him and engulfed him in a hug.

“Taken me? Who? Wh—Oh, the blackmailers.” He returned the hug, if only halfway. “No, I'm fine.”

She took a step back and looked into her brother's face. “Where were you? I checked your room and you weren't there.”

“I was in the bathroom.”

“Oh.” Had she been fully awake and thinking clearly, she'd have thought of that.

The coffeemaker gave a final sigh and bubble.

“Didn't mean to scare ya.” Caleb crossed to the icebox and pulled out the gallon of milk. He twisted off the cap and took a big swig.

Sadie was so relieved he was okay that she didn't even admonish him for not using a glass. Instead, she grabbed a mug and poured herself coffee. She didn't even bother to sit at the table to sip, digging her hip into the counter.

Caleb recapped the jug and returned the milk to the icebox. “Hey, Sadie, about last night…”

The warmth moving across the back of her neck had nothing to do with the hot coffee. “Yeah?”

Her brother stared at the floor, scuffing the tile with his sock. “I didn't mean to interrupt anything.”

She felt like a teenager caught out necking after curfew. “You didn't.”

Caleb lifted his gaze to hers. The look he tossed her clearly screamed
yeah, right.

Well, he didn't. But two seconds later…

“I don't mean to cramp your style.”

“Oh, you don't. I—I…” She clamped her mouth shut. How could she tell him she'd changed? That she'd once been that woman who had a style to cramp, but wasn't anymore?

“Hey, it's cool. If you hook up with somebody, I'm okay with that.”

No. No. “No. That's not it. I'm not like that.”

He met her stare.

“Not anymore.”

Caleb didn't say a word, just crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Exactly who was the adult here?

She really didn't want to have this conversation. Not now. And not with her little brother. But she had no other choice.
Lord, please help me do this right.
“Before I was saved, I wasn't exactly, uh, a woman of high moral fiber.” That was putting it loosely.

“Hey, none of my business.”

“No, you need to know I'm not like that anymore. You might hear rumors about me around town. More than likely, they're true. Or they were.” Her throat threatened to close. She forced down a sip of hot coffee. “But I'm not that person anymore.” She shrugged. “I just wanted you to know.”

“TMI, sis.”

Huh? “TMI?”

Caleb laughed and gave her a one-arm hug. “Too much information.”

She chuckled and snuggled against her brother.

Thank You, Jesus, for opening his heart.

The phone's shrill ring made them both jump. She was still laughing as she answered. “Hello.”

“Good morning. It's Jon.”

As if she didn't know his voice. “Good morning to you, too.”

“You sound chipper. Did you rest well?”

The rascal, he probably knew she'd been up all night, thinking of him. “Just laughing with Caleb.”

“Good. I have to say I'm really impressed with the progress he's making.”

She smiled at her brother's retreating back. “I am, too.”

“Well, glad I didn't wake you.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Not at all. I have a meeting set up with Jack Kinnard.”

Her heartbeat bumped up a notch as she focused on the name. “One of the disgruntled employees.”

“Right. Just so happens, he's been off probation for only six months. So I have a legitimate reason to contact him.”

“What was he in for?” This could be a huge break.

“Nothing as blatant as sabotage, but it's a past, which is nothing more than what the FBI has on Bruce. And he has more motive—being laid off tends to upset people.”

“When are you talking to him?”

“In about twenty minutes.”

While she wanted to hear what he said, she knew she couldn't go with him. But she couldn't just sit around and bite her nails. “Should we meet for lunch?”

He chuckled. “I was hoping you'd say that. How about the café at noon?”

“I'll see you there. Bye.” She hung up the phone and reached for her mug. She'd better get it in high gear if she was to get her shower and be ready on time.

She passed Caleb in the hall.

“Hey, do you mind if I hang out with a friend today?”

Sadie paused. “One of those guys from summer school? Sure, I don't have a problem with it. What time will you be home?”

“Dunno. Not long. He'll be here to pick me up in about ten minutes.”

“Okay. I've got to get ready for my lunch date, anyway.”

“With Mr. Garrison?” Caleb's voice had a sing-song tone.

“Yes. But it's about our investigation.” Yet the pit of her stomach tightened.

“Sure.” He chuckled as he headed to his room.

She shook her head and moved to take her shower.

An hour and a hot shower later found Sadie much more her normal self. The steam had cleared her head of the cobwebs. She had to admit to herself that she was excited about seeing Jon again and it wasn't all because of what he'd share.

Oh, Lord, I'm really attracted to him, but I don't even know if he's a Christian. He's so nice and cares about others—please let him be a Christian. I don't want to go back to my old lifestyle, but I want romance and love.
Was that wrong to want love so badly it made her teeth hurt? Was it wrong to pray for that?

Sadie contacted the P.I.s, filling them in on Jack Kinnard. In turn, they removed four more names off the suspect list. She could feel them getting closer to the truth. If she could just buy a little more time with the blackmailers…

She dressed, putting extra care into her makeup application and adding a spray of perfume. The smell of flowers always made her feel confident. She grabbed her purse and shut the door, locking it behind her.

The mailman met her on the steps. “Hello there, Sadie.”

“Hi, Mr. Wilson. How're you today?”

“Good. You look nice.” He handed her two envelopes.

“Merci.”

“Have a good day.” The elderly man crossed the front yard toward the next house.

“You, too,” she called out as she glanced at the mail.

She froze as she registered the return address on one of the envelopes. Department of Corrections. Sadie rushed to the car
and got behind the wheel. She turned over the engine to get the air-conditioning humming before she slit open the envelope.

A cover letter explained that the probation officer's initial interview and house visit reports on Caleb were enclosed.

Jon.

Sadie smiled and moved to the reports. Her heart skipped a beat.

It is of this probation officer's professional opinion that the minor shows no current ability at rehabilitation.

Oh, really? She'd just see about that probation officer's
professional opinion.

 

He couldn't wait to see Sadie.

Jon sat in a back booth in the café, eyes glued to the front door, nerves in a tight wad. He couldn't even sip the ice water the waitress had left for him.

He'd thought about Sadie last night after he went home. A lot. And he'd come to the conclusion that he wanted to get to know her better. Not for his job.

As a man romances a woman.

Oh, he wanted to tell Sadie that Jack Kinnard was definitely a prime suspect, that much was true, but he wanted to just see her even more. Just stare into her eyes. And maybe, if he was lucky, get the kiss her brother had thwarted last night.

His meeting with Jack couldn't have gone better as far as extracting information went. Jack was belligerent and openly hostile against Vermilion Oil. When Jon had asked what Jack thought about the sabotages, he'd replied with, “They get what they deserve.” Very much worth a second look, which is exactly what Jon intended to share with Sheriff Theriot.

After he told Sadie.

Something about Kinnard's attitude seemed almost gloating in nature. The way he smirked.

Jon glanced at his watch—she was already eight minutes late. Where was she?

He'd tossed and turned all night. Recalling how soft Sadie's
face had been. Remembering how slight her waist felt in his hand. Anticipating what it'd be like to kiss her. It'd been a long time since he'd felt like this over a woman and the exhilaration fed his adrenaline.

And then she was there, breezing through the door. She glanced around the tables.

He stood and waved, not bothering to hide his wide smile. His heart did silly things whenever she was near.

She made eye contact with him and headed in his direction. He continued to stand beside the booth, determined to be the gentleman and treat her like she deserved—like a lady. As she drew closer, he noticed the firm set of her mouth, the narrowness of her eyes. What had stolen her good mood from earlier?

Had there been another sabotage? He was working as fast as he could in trying to help the sheriff in the investigation.

She stopped less than two feet in front of him. Her eyes glimmered…with anger. At him.

All the air left his lungs. “What's wrong?”

“What's wrong? What's wrong?” Her voice had a shrillness to it he hadn't heard before.

“Sit down and you can tell me what's happened.” He motioned to the booth.

“I'm not sitting down with you, you rat. You snake.” She grew louder.

The waitress paused, holding an empty tray. People near them stared. He kept his voice low. “What'd I do?”

“What did you do?” She shook her head. “How can you ask that?”

“Sadie, please. I don't know what's made you so mad.”

She popped her fists onto her hips. “
No ability for rehabilitation?
Are you serious?” Her voice raised at least two decibels.

Oh, no. His report. She'd gotten her copy. “I can explain. That was before I—”

“What, stabbed me in the back? Let me think you cared about me, when you were only trying to get the dirt on my brother?”

He reached for her. “No, it's not like that. Just si—”

“Don't touch me and don't tell me what to do.” She was flat-out yelling now and didn't seem to mind. “I can't believe I thought you were different. I thought you were special. You aren't. You're just like all the other user guys I know. At least with them, I knew what I was getting into bed with.”