Authors: Beverly Barton
"Lady, you're a re-al pi-ece of work."
"And just what do you me-an by that cryptic sta-te-ment?"
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When Jacob gla-red at her, she til-ted her sno-oty lit-tle no-se and sa-id, "Wo-uld you li-ke me to gi-ve you the de-fi-ni-ti-on of the world cryptic? I re-ali-ze that as a bac-k-wo-ods she-riff you pro-bably didn't go to col-le-ge. Ac-tu-al-ly, you might not even ha-ve fi-nis-hed high scho-ol."
Jacob la-ug-hed. Damn in-fu-ri-ating bitch had not only im-p-li-ed he was an une-du-ca-ted idi-ot, and the-re-fo-re stu-pid, but she had re-fer-red to him-to his fa-ce-as a mo-ron. Twi-ce!
"Ms. Sor-rell, don't le-ave town."
"Am I un-der ar-rest?"
"No, ma'am. But if you le-ave town, I'll put out a war-rant for yo-ur ar-rest.",* "On what char-ges?"
"I'm not su-re. But I'll think of so-met-hing."
She grit-ted her te-eth. "I did not kill Jamie Up-ton. I had no re-ason to kill him."
"If you say so."
"I in-tend to con-tact my law-yer."
Jacob nod-ded to the te-lep-ho-ne. "Go right ahe-ad."
Oddly eno-ugh, the pho-ne rang. Re-ve Sor-rell jum-ped as if she'd be-en shot.
"Damn!" she mum-b-led the word un-der her bre-ath, then wal-ked over and pic-ked up the re-ce-iver. "Yes, Re-ve Sor-rell he-re." She pa-used, lis-te-ning to the cal-ler. "What did you say?" She lis-te-ned aga-in. ‘’Yes, She-riff But-ler is he-re. Cer-ta-inly." She held out the re-ce-iver to him.
"Who is it?" he as-ked.
"She didn't say." Re-ve pla-ced her hand over the mo-ut-h-pi-ece and sa-id softly, 'The-re's so-met-hing funny abo-ut her vo-ice."
"How's that?"
"It so-un-ded muf-fled. Eit-her that or she's got the worst ca-se of lar-y-n-gi-tis I've ever he-ard."
Jacob to-ok the pho-ne. "This is She-riff But-ler."
"You're qu-es-ti-oning the wrong wo-man," the husky vo-ice sa-id.
"Who is this?"
"Someone who wants to help."
Jacob re-ali-zed the vo-ice was be-ing dis-gu-ised, pro-bably by so-me type of de-vi-ce. His gut in-s-tincts told him •hat he was spe-aking to the kil-ler.
"How can you help me?"
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"You ne-ed evi-den-ce be-fo-re you can ar-rest Jaz-zy Tal-bot, don't you?"
"And you ha-ve that evi-den-ce?"
"Of co-ur-se not, but I know whe-re you can find it."
"Where?" Jacob as-ked.
"In her of-fi-ce at Jas-mi-ne's."
"How do you-" The di-al to-ne hum-med in his ear. Son of a bitch.
"What's wrong?" Re-ve as-ked.
"Nothing you ne-ed to con-cern yo-ur-self with," he told her. "It's be-en in-te-res-ting, Ms. Sor-rell, but I've got to run. I ha-ve a mur-der ca-se to sol-ve."
"By all me-ans, She-riff. Don't let me stop you."
Jacob pa-used as he he-aded out the do-or, then glan-ced over his sho-ul-der. "Re-mem-ber not to le-ave town."
When she scre-wed up her fa-ce in a moc-king smi-le, he tip-ped his hat and left. He had to talk to Jaz-zy and get per-mis-si-on to se-arch her of-fi-ce for evi-den-ce he wasn 't even su-re was the-re. But if it was, he fi-gu-red the re-al kil-ler had plan-ted it. And if that was the ca-se, then things didn't lo-ok go-od for Jaz-zy. No, sir, things we-re lo-oking wor-se for her with every pas-sing mi-nu-te.
Chapter 15
When Dr. Mac-Na-ir en-te-red the wa-iting ro-om on the first flo-or of Co-unty Ge-ne-ral, Jim ro-se to his fe-et, but he sto-od back and al-lo-wed La-ura's pa-rents to me-et the doc-tor. His he-art lod-ged in his thro-at as he wa-ited to he-ar his un-born gre-at-gran-d-c-hild's fa-te.
"I'm sorry," Mac-Na-ir sa-id.
Jim sig-hed. The only ho-pe of an he-ir-a des-cen-dant with his blo-od flo-wing thro-ugh his or her ve-ins-had di-ed with the mis-car-ri-age of Jamie's child.
Why now, God, why now? Wasn't it eno-ugh
to ta-ke Jamie? Did you ha-ve to ta-ke his baby, too?
"When may we see La-ura?" An-d-rea Wil-lis held her hus-band's hand tightly.
"Soon," Mac-Na-ir rep-li-ed. "We did a D and C and she's as-le-ep and res-ting com-for-tably now.
In a few we-eks, she'll be fully re-co-ve-red. The-re was no per-ma-nent da-ma-ge, no re-ason she can't ha-ve ot-her chil-d-ren."
It was go-od that swe-et, lit-tle La-ura wo-uld one day be ab-le to ha-ve ot-her chil-d-ren, Jim tho-ught. But tho-se chil-d-ren wo-uldn't be Up-ton ba-bi-es. Jamie's child was de-ad.
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Tears glis-te-ned in Ce-cil Wil-lis's eyes. "Thank you, Dr. Mac-Na-ir."
"I'll ar-ran-ge for a gri-ef co-un-se-lor to spe-ak to La-ura," Mac-Na-ir sa-id.
"I wo-uld pre-fer that I be pre-sent when the co-un-se-lor talks to La-ura," An-d-rea sa-id. T plan on be-ing he-re at the hos-pi-tal with her day and night un-til she's re-le-ased."
"Yes, of co-ur-se." Mac-Na-ir lo-oked sympat-he-ti-cal-ly at An-d-rea. "La-ura will cer-ta-inly ne-ed her mot-her with her."
After the doc-tor left, Jim wal-ked over to An-d-rea and Ce-cil. Du-ring the-ir bri-ef ac-qu-a-in-tan-ce, Jim had for-med an opi-ni-on of the co-up-le. Ba-si-cal-ly he li-ked them. They se-emed li-ke go-od pe-op-le. Re-ba su-re set gre-at sto-re by them be-ing we-althy and so-ci-al-ly pro-mi-nent.
La-ura 's from a fi-ne fa-mily
, Re-ba had sa-id.
The Wil-lis fa-mily has be-en bre-eding
Ken-tucky Derby win-ners for ge-ne-ra-ti-ons. They're old mo-ney
.
"I'm truly glad that La-ura will be all right," Jim told them. "She's a de-ar girl. Re-ba and I we-re lo-oking for-ward to her be-co-ming a mem-ber of our fa-mily. And if the baby had-" Jim cle-ared his thro-at. "I'm go-ing to he-ad on back to the ho-use. If the se-da-ti-ve Dr. Mac-Na-ir ga-ve Re-ba has worn off, she's pro-bably wor-rying her-self sick be-ca-use I ha-ven't cal-led to let her know how La-ura is."
Cecil sho-ok Jim's hand, then pat-ted him on the back. "Ple-ase tell She-ri-dan that we'll call her la-ter."
"Yes, yes, of co-ur-se," Jim rep-li-ed. "I ap-pre-ci-ate her sta-ying at the ho-use with Re-ba. It was kind of her to of-fer.
As Jim left the wa-iting ro-om and wal-ked down the hall to-ward the hos-pi-tal's back exit, he tho-ught abo-ut what he had lost to-day and how ir-re-vo-cably his li-fe ha chan-ged in the mat-ter of ho-urs. Less than twen-ty-fo-ur ho-urs ago, Jamie had be-en ali-ve. And La-ura had bee preg-nant.
Just as the auto-ma-tic exit do-ors ope-ned and Jim step-ped out-si-de, he ca-me to an ab-rupt halt when he saw Erin Mer-cer rus-hing to-ward him. What was she do-ing he-re? How had she known whe-re he was? ''Jim!" She ran to-ward him, her arms open wi-de.
He grab-bed her hands to pre-vent her from en-ve-lo-ping him in a hug.
"I know abo-ut Jamie. I cal-led yo-ur ho-use and spo-ke to Do-ra. I as-ked to spe-ak to you to gi-ve you my con-do-len-ces, and she sa-id you'd go-ne to the hos-pi-tal." She lo-oked up at him with con-cern in her eyes. "Are you all right? I was af-ra-id you'd had a he-art at-tack or-"
He pul-led her asi-de, away from die glass wall that sur-ro-un-ded the hos-pi-tal exit and ex-po-sed them to prying eyes. "I'm fi-ne. I ca-me to die hos-pi-tal with La-ura's pa-rents. La-ura just suf-fe-red a mis-car-ri-age."
"Laura was preg-nant?"
Jim nod-ded. "She hadn't even told Jamie."
"Oh, Jim…J-im, I'm so sorry, dar-ling. I wish the-re was so-met-hing I co-uld do."
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He tho-ught abo-ut de-man-ding to know whe-re she'd be-en all night, why she hadn't be-en at ho-me early this mor-ning when he'd stop-ped by her ca-bin. But so-me-how that didn't se-em to mat-ter right now. ''I ne-ed you, Erin. God, how I ne-ed you."
Squeezing his hands, she le-aned to-ward him. It was all he co-uld do to stop him-self from grab-bing her and kis-sing her.
"I'm he-re for you," she told him. "Tell me what I can do and I'll do it. An-y-t-hing. Ever-y-t-hing."
Jim let go of her and stuf-fed his hands in-to his pants Poc-kets. "I ha-ve to go ho-me and tell Re-ba that"-he lo-oked up at the cle-ar blue sky, swal-lo-wed, and wil-led his emo-ti-ons un-der con-t-rol.
"She's in pretty bad shape, you can ima-gi-ne. Fin-ding out that we no lon-ger ha-ve the ho-pe of a gre-at-gran-d-c-hild…"
"I un-der-s-tand that you ha-ve to be with her, that she ne-eds you." Erin of-fe-red him a com-pas-si-ona-te smi-le. "And you pro-bably ne-ed her, too. Af-ter all-"
"I ne-ed you," he told her. "La-ter to-day-will you be at ho-me?"
"Yes, of co-ur-se I will be."
"I'll try to co-me by. Just for a whi-le."
"If you can't, it will be all right. Just know that if you ne-ed me, I'm he-re for you."
"I'll co-me by. I want to be with you." Wit-ho-ut sa-ving anot-her word to her, he wal-ked away, and all the whi-le he wis-hed he co-uld turn aro-und, go back to her, and pull her in-to his arms.
"I ne-ed yo-ur per-mis-si-on to se-arch yo-ur of-fi-ce, "Jacob I told Jaz-zy.
"Why do you ne-ed to se-arch her of-fi-ce?" Genny in-qu-ired at the pre-ci-se mo-ment Ca-leb as-ked "Why?"
"You ha-ve my per-mis-si-on," Jaz-zy sa-id. "I ha-ve not-hing to hi-de."
Jacob shif-ted un-com-for-tably. "Hell, Jaz-zy, I know that. Don't think just be-ca-use I've got to se-arch yo-ur of-fi-ce that for one mi-nu-te I think you kil-led Jamie. Not even if we find evi-den-ce to the con-t-rary."
Caleb snor-ted. "I don't see why you ha-ve to go se-ar-c-hing for evi-den-ce aga-inst Jaz-zy just be-ca-use so-me nut cal-led j you and sa-id-"
"He's just do-ing his job." Jaz-zy grab-bed Ca-leb's arm.
"Is it his job to help so-me crazy wo-man ra-il-ro-ad you for a cri-me you didn't com-mit?" Ca-leb gla-red at Jacob.
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"What will you do if you find so-me sort of plan-ted evi-den-ce in Jaz-zy's of-fi-ce?" Genny as-ked.
"You'll know that it was put the-re, that Jaz-zy is in-no-cent."
Jacob re-mo-ved his Stet-son, then ran his fin-gers thro-ugh the back of his ha-ir whe-re it res-ted just abo-ve his sho-ul-ders. "I'm not trying to bu-ild a ca-se aga-inst Jaz-zy, but as the she-riff, it's my job to sha-re all the in-for-ma-ti-on I ha-ve with Wa-de Tru-man. Our am-bi-ti-o-us yo-ung DA is al-re-ady bre-at-hing down my neck hot and he-avy abo-ut co-ming up with a sus-pect."
"And I'm the most li-kely sus-pect, aren't I?" Jaz-zy sa-id.
When Jacob re-ac-hed out and pla-ced his hand on Jaz-zy's sho-ul-der, Ca-leb ten-sed. Jacob co-uld tell the guy wan-ted to knock his hand off her. He un-der-s-to-od the ot-her man's prop-ri-eto-ri-al, pos-ses-si-ve at-ti-tu-de. He'd sen-sed the sa-me thing in Dal-las Slo-an the very first ti-me he saw him with Genny.
"You didn't kill Jamie," Jacob sa-id. "We all know that out the-re so-mew-he-re is a very dis-tur-bed wo-man who will, so-oner or la-ter, gi-ve her-self away."
"Yeah, but in the me-an-ti-me, I may just wind up in ja-il." Jaz-zy cros-sed her arms over her wa-ist and emit-ted a co-up-le of ner-vo-us, moc-king chuc-k-les. "It's not as if Jamie didn't screw me over eno-ugh whi-le he was ali-ve. Now he's re-ac-hing out from the gra-ve to do it."
While Jacob and De-puty Mo-ody Ryan se-ar-c-hed Jaz-zy's of-fi-ce, she wa-ited out-si-de in the hall with Genny and Ca-leb. She co-uld fe-el the no-ose tig-h-te-ning aro-und her neck. She didn't ne-ed Genny's psychic gifts to know that so-me-one had in-ten-ti-onal-ly fra-med her for Jamie's mur-der. But who? And why?
Someone had ha-ted Jamie so much that they had tor-tu-red him to de-ath. And that sa-me per-son ha-ted her eno-ugh to want to see her go to ja-il-oh, God, not just 8° to ja-il, but be sen-ten-ced to de-ath for Jamie's mur-der. Wow co-uld this be hap-pe-ning? And why now, when she had tho-ught may-be she had a chan-ce of fin-ding hap-pi-ness with Ca-leb?
When Jacob ca-me out of her of-fi-ce car-rying a plas-tic bag, she grab-bed Ca-leb by the arm.
Jacob held up the bag to show them the blo-ody kni-fe it con-ta-ined.
"Where was it?"Jazzy as-ked him.
"Hidden in the back of one of the fi-le ca-bi-nets," Jacob told her.
"It's the kni-fe she used on Jamie," Genny sa-id. "But you won't find any fin-ger-p-rints on it. Only Jamie'sj blo-od."
"I didn't put it the-re," Jaz-zy sa-id, her strong sur-vi-val in-s-tincts kic-king in, for-cing her to de-fend her-self, even to her fri-ends.
"We know that," Genny sa-id. "Jacob, the kni-fe was plan-ted in Jaz-zy's of-fi-ce to ma-ke her lo-ok
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gu-ilty."
"Yeah, I know," he rep-li-ed. "But I'm af-ra-id who-ever put it the-re ac-com-p-lis-hed her go-al."
"Are you go-ing to ar-rest me?" Jaz-zy as-ked.
"Hell no, he isn't go-ing to ar-rest you." Ca-leb mo-ved bet-we-en Jaz-zy and Jacob. 'You and I we-re to-get-her last night and this mor-ning. I'll swe-ar in co-urt that we we-re to-get-her whe-ne-ver Jamie was kil-led." He gla-red at Jacob, his ag-gres-si-ve stan-ce and de-ter-mi-ned ex-p-res-si-on is-su-ing a war-ning.
Jazzy pus-hed Ca-leb gently asi-de and lo-oked di-rectly at Jacob. "What hap-pens next?"
"Nothing right now," Jacob rep-li-ed. "It co-uld ta-ke a whi-le to de-ter-mi-ne if this kni-fe was used on Jamie, if this is his blo-od. Be-si-des, if this is all the evi-den-ce that shows up-"
"She co-uldn't ha-ve kil-led Jamie," Ca-leb re-ite-ra-ted. "She was with me."
In that slow, easy way Jacob had, he tur-ned and squ-in-c-hed his eyes as he fo-cu-sed on Ca-leb.
"If you lie to try to pro-tect Jaz-zy, you won't help her. You just might hurt her and get yo-ur-self in tro-ub-le to bo-ot."