Cold Hearted (44 page)

“You’re wrong. He doesn’t love you. He just wants sex. The only man who’s ever truly loved you was Robby Joe.”

“Rick loves me. He’s told me that he does,” Jordan lied. “We’ll get married and we’ll have a baby, maybe several babies and you can—”

“No! He won’t make you happy. Why can’t you understand that?”

“Rick will come after me.” She knew he would turn the world upside down searching for her. “He loves me and he—”

“Don’t worry, if he tries to stop us, I’ll take care of him.”

A flash of metal in the moonlight reflected in the mirror. Jordan swallowed. She hated guns. Always had and always would.

“You wouldn’t kill Rick, would you? You wouldn’t kill anyone.”

Please, dear God, please, let the answer be “no, of course, I wouldn’t kill Rick or anyone else.”

“I think you know the answer to that question. Of course, I’d kill him. I’d kill anyone who posed a threat to you.”

A surge of fear-induced adrenaline roared through Jordan’s body, putting all her senses on high alert. If she had doubted whether or not her life was in danger, she no longer had any doubts.

“Did — did you kill Dan?” Jordan asked.

“Dan was a good man, but we couldn’t be burdened with a sick husband, not when we were expecting a baby. I actually thought I had talked him into committing suicide, but he didn’t have the guts to do it, so I just helped him along a little.”

Jordan barely managed to stifle the scream vibrating in her throat.
Oh, Dan… Dan, I’m so very sorry
.

“Killing Dan was simple really,” she said, her voice oddly calm as if she were talking about nothing more sinister than the weather. “He had left the gun on his desk. You know, the Glock he bought for you. I truly believe he thought about killing himself, but when I went to check on him, he was passed out drunk on the sofa. I put the gun in his hand, aimed it at his temple and pressed my finger over his to fire the pistol. He committed suicide, with a little help from me. I took care of your problem, just as I’ve done in the past. I always take care of you.”

“Did — did you kill Boyd?” Jordan asked, dreading her reply and desperately needing to hear her admit the truth.

“Of course, I did. After the way he betrayed us, first by not letting us have a baby and then by having an affair with that awful woman, he didn’t give me any choice, did he? He hurt you terribly. He had to pay for the way he had mistreated you.”

“But the children… didn’t you think about what killing Boyd would do to Wes and Kendra?” Jordan felt sick at her stomach.

“I did it for them, too. They were better off without him. We all were.”

“How did you…? I mean, everyone thought it was a hunting accident. The sheriff… the coroner. Someone shot him in the head. How could you have done that?”

“I’m an expert marksman, my dear Jordan; something I didn’t think you needed to know. My father taught me how to use a rifle when I was only eight. I went hunting with him often. Since Boyd was an avid hunter, the solution to ridding ourselves of him was quite clear. I planned his death months ahead of time. I simply had to wait for deer season. You can’t imagine the absolute triumph of the kill unless you’ve experienced it. It’s quite exhilarating.”

She’s insane
, Jordan thought.
Completely deranged. Why did I never suspect the truth? She has always seemed so normal
.

“Would you like for me to tell you about how I took care of all your other problems? I think about each of them fairly often and I always get such a feeling of satisfaction knowing how much I’ve helped you.” She laughed softly, so obviously pleased with herself. “I was able to make several of the deaths look like accidents. Not Jane Anne’s death, but then I had to act quickly when I killed her. I didn’t have any time to make plans. It was pretty much spur of the moment.”

She had admitted killing Dan and Boyd and Jane Anne. What about the others? Donald and Jay and her father?

As if she had read Jordan’s thoughts, she said, “Donald Farris should have given you the promotion you deserved. He was such a smug SOB. I knew that as long as he was your boss, he’d never do right by you. But I took care of him. I planned his death to look as if he had accidentally fallen down the stairs and broken his neck. He had no idea when he heard someone coming down the stairs behind him that I was going to shove him over the railing. Oh, my, my, the way he looked lying there on the concrete, his body broken, his head smashed. Not a pretty sight.”

Don’t tell me anything else, please
, Jordan wanted to scream, but she managed to remain silent. For now, she had to do whatever it took to keep them alive. Rick would find them. That one single thought kept her from totally panicking.

“You know, I believe that I enjoyed killing Jay Reynolds far more than any of the others. He was such a nasty man, wasn’t he, Jordan? He tried to rape you, but I showed him just what happens to a man when he hurts us. I followed him day after day, week after week, until I knew his schedule. That night I caught him unaware and hit him over the head with the baseball bat before he realized what was happening.” She heaved a deep sigh. “I hit him over and over again, even after I knew he was dead. Beating him repeatedly was absolutely thrilling, probably because he, more than any of them, deserved to die.”

Jay didn’t try to rape me
, Jordan thought.
He got fresh and I slapped him. That’s all that happened. Why did ever I tell you about it? Why, why, why? He didn’t deserve to die. And poor Donald Farris. The only thing he was guilty of was being a male chauvinist who was notorious for promoting men with families over single women
.

And Boyd. She had killed him, too. Shot him as she would have shot an animal, almost for the sport of it. Yes, he had betrayed their marriage vows, but so had she. Although she hadn’t had an affair, she had been in love with another man. During her entire marriage to Boyd, she had still been in love with Robby Joe.

Rick sped along the highway, his Bluetooth headset in place, which allowed him to keep both hands on the wheel. Pushing the Wrangler to the limit, he focused on his objective — saving Jordan.

His phone rang.

“Yeah, what have you got for me?” Rick asked.

“I’ve tried several times to contact the funeral home,” Nix Elliott told him. “There’s no answer. Sheriff Corbett is getting the director’s private number and calling him at home.”

“Who’s missing from the house?” Whoever was missing had to be the person who had abducted Jordan.

“Vadonna and Tobias are the only two people in the house. Markham, Rene Burke, and Mrs. Wright are all missing.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“I checked with the front gate. Actually, I’m there right now. O’Steen says that no one has come in or gone out through the front gates this evening.”

“I figured as much. Jordan was taken out the back entrance. There had to have been a car there waiting.”

“Mrs. Price’s Navigator isn’t in the garage. I gave this information to the sheriff when I spoke to him.”

“Did either Tobias or Vadonna see anything?”

“Tobias said he saw Devon Markham leave the house by the front entrance shortly before you and Mrs. Price were summoned to the Harris cottage.”

“What about Mrs. Wright and Rene?”

“No one has any idea where they are or when they left.”

“Has Holt made it there, yet?”

“Not yet. He just checked in. He’s ten minutes away,” Nix said. “Hey, wait a minute. A couple of deputies are here. We’ll get started searching the grounds right away.”

“If you find anything—”

“I’ll contact you immediately.”

Rick stared at the dark country road ahead of him. It was two-lane highway all the way from Priceville to Jernigan Crossroads. If only he hadn’t sent the Powell helicopter back to Knoxville, he could get to the funeral home before Jordan and her kidnapper arrived. He might have had a hell of a time finding a safe place to land in town, but he could have found a suitable landing area on the outskirts.

Hindsight was twenty-twenty. He had to deal with the reality of the moment. He didn’t have the chopper.

What if I’m wrong? What if they’re not on their way to the funeral home? What if I’ve misinterpreted the things Tammy said? But what else could Jordan wearing her wedding dress and becoming Robby Joe’s bride forever mean? Whoever had Jordan — Devon? Rene? Mrs. Wright? — they intended to kill her.

Only in death could she be with Robby Joe forever.

As instructed, once they were within ten miles of Jernigan Crossroads, Jordan took a back road that she hadn’t even known existed.

“Will this take us directly to the funeral home?” Jordan asked.

“We’re not going to the funeral home.”

“We aren’t? Then where are we going?”

“We’re going to meet Robby Joe. He’s waiting for us at the cemetery.”

“What! But — but I thought…”

“I arranged to have him taken to the cemetery. It cost me quite a bit to bribe one of the funeral home employees, but for five thousand dollars, he was perfectly willing to break the rules.”

“You had Robby Joe’s casket taken to the cemetery? But why?” Jordan asked, hopelessly confused and scared out of her mind.

“I was afraid we might be disturbed if we met Robby Joe at the funeral home. Meeting him at the cemetery will give us the privacy we need.”

“Privacy for what?”

“For your wedding, of course.”

Rick had left Price Manor twenty-five minutes ago. If his calculations were correct, he’d make it to the funeral home in another five minutes.

His phone rang.

“Yeah, let’s hear it.”

“We’re still searching,” Nix Elliott said. “We’ve covered over half the grounds.”

“Nothing?”

“No sign of Mrs. Price, but we found Devon Markham.”

“Alive?”

“Yes, alive. The guy had just taken an evening stroll. He was alone when we found him. He’s pretty frantic now that he knows Mrs. Price is missing.”

“Any sign of Mrs. Wright or Rene Burke?”

“No.”

“We were too sure Markham was our killer,” Rick said.

“Looks like we were wrong.”

“Yeah, dead wrong.”

Afraid not to follow orders because she knew that she was not the only one whose life was in danger, Jordan turned the Navigator off the back road and onto the gravel drive that circled the cemetery.

“Pull off the drive and into the grass. Park so that the front of the car is facing Robby Joe’s monument.”

Jordan parked the SUV.

“Leave the headlights on. They won’t be as beautiful and romantic as candlelight, but they’ll have to do.”

Jordan did as she was instructed.

“Now, take your wedding dress with you and get out. We’ll wait here and give you some privacy while you change clothes.”

Jordan glanced at the garment bag lying on the front passenger seat. “You want me to put on the wedding dress?”

The shrill laughter jangled off Jordan’s nerves like ice daggers. “Of course, silly. You can’t get married in what you’re wearing now. You’ve waited twelve years to wear that beautiful dress. Now hurry up. And don’t do anything stupid like trying to run away. If you do, I’ll have to kill her, and you don’t want me to do that.”

“No, please, don’t hurt her.” Jordan grabbed the garment bag from the seat, clutched it to her chest and opened the driver’s side door.

This couldn’t be happening. Surely she was having a nightmare. If only… But this was no nightmare. This was real.

Rick will find me. Somehow, some way, he’ll figure out where we are and what’s going on. I just have to buy us some time.

Put on the dress and play along with her. Pretend you agree with her, that you understand why she’s doing this.

Jordan glanced toward Robby Joe’s headstone spotlighted by the Navigator’s headlights. When she saw the casket resting on the grass beside the empty grave, she gasped. Why was the casket open?

Oh, God. Oh, God!

Her hands shook so badly that she had difficulty removing her blouse and slacks, but she somehow managed to strip down to her underwear. Glancing at the car, at the two women in the back of the SUV, one holding a gun to the other’s head, she hurriedly unzipped the garment bag and removed the wedding dress.

She pulled the dress over her head, slipped her arms into the sheer lace sleeves and shivered when the thick, heavily beaded skirt fell about her hips and the scalloped lace edge skimmed the grass beneath her feet. She reached behind her and tried her best to maneuver the tiny pearl buttons into the buttonholes. Her fingers felt numb. Finally she managed to fasten three of the buttons, the ones closest to her waist.

The SUV’s right side back door opened and the two women emerged. “Do you need a little help with the buttons?”

“Yes,” Jordan replied.

“Then we’ll be glad to help you.”

Jordan forced a smile. “Thank you. I — I want everything to be perfect, especially my dress since I’ve waited such a long time to wear it.”

Twelve years and what seemed like a million lifetimes ago, this had been her fantasy wedding gown. And now, it just might become her burial gown.

Rick whipped the Wrangler into the parking lot at the funeral home and skidded to an abrupt stop in front of the entrance. Just as he jumped out of the Jeep, the chapel doors opened and a man he recognized as the funeral director met him under the canopied portico.

“Mr. Carson, I’m Charles Farmer. Sheriff Corbett called me at home and explained the situation.”

“Is Mrs. Price here?”

“No, sir. When I arrived, I checked the entire place and no one is here.”

Rick shoved Mr. Farmer aside. “If you don’t mind, I’ll see for myself.”

The director followed Rick inside as he went from room to room, from the chapel, through the offices, and back into the mortuary where the bodies were prepared for burial.

“Mr. Carson, please listen to me.”

Rick kept moving, searching for any sign of Jordan and her abductor. “Talk.”

“There’s no one here. I promise you. But — but—”