Chapter 16

“Is everything set for Miss Laura’s return?” Reba asked Dora as the housekeeper served them afternoon coffee in the sunroom.

“Yes, ma’am. The florist delivered the fresh flowers you ordered, and I’ve placed the arrangements around the room,” Dora replied. “I changed the bed linen as you requested and I moved Miss Sheridan’s things into another room so that Miss Laura can have complete peace and quiet.”

“Has the nurse we hired to look after Laura arrived?” Reba nervously rubbed her throat, the tremor in her hand a sure sign that the medication Dr. MacNair had prescribed to soothe her was wearing off.

Jim reached over and grasped his wife’s wrist, then slipped his big hand around her small one. “Mrs. Conley went directly to the hospital to meet Andrea and Cecil. She suggested it was best if she speak to Laura’s parents before bringing her home, as well as get instructions on Laura’s care from Dr. MacNair and the hospital psychiatrist.”

Dora placed the silver service on the wicker table, then lifted the silver pot and poured coffee into two china cups. “Will there be anything else?”

“No, that will be all,” Jim told the housekeeper.

“I want everything possible done for Laura. That child has been through—” Reba’s voice cracked; tears pooled in her eyes. “She has lost everything, just as we have. Jamie. And the baby.” She clutched Jim’s hand tightly. “Oh, Jim, the baby. Jamie’s baby. If only…”

Jim scooted to the edge of his wicker chair, leaned over, and draped his arm around Reba’s shoulders. “Nothing can be done about it now. The baby’s gone.”

“Yes, the baby’s gone.” Reba dabbed the corners of her eyes with her fingertips. “It’s as if we’ve been cursed, as if Fate—or God—is determined to take everything from us and leave us nothing. First Jim Jr. and then Melanie. Our children. Both such beautiful, fine people. And now Jamie, our only grandchild. If only Laura hadn’t lost the baby, we would have—”

Reba broke down and cried. She’d been crying a lot these past four days, and Jim had done his best to be at her side. She deserved no less. As he patted her tenderly, he thought about Erin and how desperately he’d wanted to be with her, to find the comfort in her arms that he could find nowhere else. But how could he slip away—day or night—when Reba needed him so? And if he were totally honest with himself, he’d have to admit that as much as he wanted Erin, as much as he needed her, right now he needed his wife more. No one understood the depth of his despair the way Reba did. No one shared his grief and sense of hopelessness as she did. No one else had loved Jamie as much as he did, only Reba.

“We’ll get through this somehow.” Jim held her, and as she melted into him as if somehow absorbing his strength, he leaned his head over against hers and pressed his lips to her temple. A tender feeling swelled up inside him. He had never been in love with Reba, but he did care for her, perhaps even loved her in a way. “We’ve still got each other, for what it’s worth.”

Sniffling softly, she turned to face him. “Do we? Do I still have you?”

A nervous pang hit him in the gut. Did Reba know about Erin? Or did she simply suspect that there was another woman, that there had always been other women? “Of course you still have me. I’m here, aren’t I?” With the utmost gentleness, he caressed her cheek. “We’ve been through a lot together in these past fifty-four years and somehow survived. We’ll survive this, too.”

“I don’t know if I want to survive.” Reba gazed into Jim’s eyes, and what he saw frightened him. Utter hopelessness. The will to live fading away.

“I can’t bear to see you like this. Please—”

Dora came rushing into the sunroom. “They’re here. Miss Laura is home!”

Jim helped Reba to her feet and together they hurried to greet Laura. Andrea and Cecil flanked their daughter. A sulking Sheridan came in behind them, carrying Laura’s overnight case. A tall, robust woman in her mid forties entered the foyer last. Jim assumed the tall brunette was Mrs. Conley, the psychiatric nurse that Dr. MacNair had highly recommended.

Reba walked quickly forward, then hesitated for a moment, searching Laura’s pale, emotionless face. Jim moved in slowly behind his wife and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Welcome, home, my dear, dear girl,” Reba said. “Your room is all ready for you.”

“Thank you,” Laura replied. “You’ve been so kind to me. Since the day Jamie brought me home and introduced me to y’all as his fiancée, you’ve been nothing but gracious and kind.”

“Oh, Laura…sweet girl…you’re everything we ever hoped for in a wife for our Jamie.”

Andrea slipped her arm around Laura’s waist. “If y’all don’t mind, I think Laura should lie down for a while.”

“Yes, of course.” Tensing, Reba leaned backward into Jim. “How thoughtless of us to keep you standing here in the foyer when you—”

Laura pulled away from her mother, went straight to Reba, and held out her hands. “Would you walk me to my room, Miss Reba? And please sit with me, just for a few minutes. No one else will let me talk about Jamie. No one else loved him the way we did.”

Jim glanced from Cecil Willis to Mrs. Conley, silently questioning them as to whether Reba should agree to Laura’s request.

Mrs. Conley moved in and answered his question quite efficiently. She laid her hand gently on Laura’s shoulder as she looked right at Reba. “Yes, Mrs. Upton, why don’t you come with us and help me get Laura settled in? Her parents and sister can check in on us later.”

Laura grasped Reba’s hand and the two headed toward the staircase. Mrs. Conley took Laura’s overnight bag from Sheridan, and after a quick glance at Jim—with an understanding passing between them that she would look after both Laura and Reba—she followed her charges.

“Am I dismissed?” Sheridan asked insolently.

Andrea sighed. “Why don’t you—oh, dear, you’re sharing a room with Laura. I didn’t think—”

“We had Dora move Sheridan’s things into the bedroom across the hall from Laura,” Jim said.

“Thank you,” Andrea replied.

“That’s great,” Sheridan said, an insolent, phony smile on her face. “Does anyone mind if I take a break from all this melodrama? I’d like to freshen up and then go into town, if I could borrow a car.”

“Take Jamie’s Mercedes,” Jim said. “Ask Dora for the keys.” He’d decided that he didn’t like Sheridan Willis. She came across as a spoiled rotten, hateful little bitch. Actually she was the female equivalent of Jamie. Those two would have been a perfect match. And they probably had been, Jim thought. He didn’t doubt for a minute that Jamie had scored with the younger Willis sister.

“That’s very nice of you,” Andrea said, “but—”

“You and Daddy take care of Laura,” Sheridan said. “Don’t worry about me. Laura comes first, doesn’t she? As always.” With a smirking, condescending grin, she whirled around and headed down the hallway toward the kitchen.

“I must apologize—” Cecil said.

“No need.” Jim held up his hand in a stop gesture.

“We plan to take Laura home with us after the funeral,” Andrea said. “The sooner she gets away from…well, from the reminders of Jamie, the sooner she’ll start to heal.”

“I understand,” Jim said. “But it will be difficult for Reba to let her go. I think those two need each other right now. If y’all could stay on just a few days after the funeral, I’d appreciate it.”

Cecil nodded. “We’ll do whatever the doctors suggest is best for Laura.”

“Yes, of course. Naturally Laura must be your first concern.” An awkward silence followed. Finally Jim said, “If y’all haven’t had lunch, we can get Dora to whip up something.”

“I couldn’t eat a bite,” Andrea replied. “But a cup of tea would be nice.” She turned to her husband. “Darling, why don’t you come with me? We’ll have Dora fix you a sandwich.”

Jim watched as Andrea Willis led her husband away. It was apparent who the dominant partner in that relationship was. It wasn’t that he thought Cecil allowed his wife to lead him around by the nose. No, he didn’t think that. He suspected that Cecil found it comforting to be married to such a strong, capable woman. Jim almost envied the man. He wondered what it would be like, just once, to have a mate he could lean on instead of the other way around.

As he walked upstairs, he wondered how the visit between Laura and Reba was going. Jamie’s doting grandmother and besotted fiancée. Two women who had loved Jamie deeply and overlooked his many character flaws. No doubt they would find Jamie, in death, to be a saint. Grunting, he shook his head sadly. When he reached the landing and started to turn toward his bedroom suite, he paused for a moment. Despite assuring himself that Mrs. Conley could handle two weeping, mournful women, he found himself walking in the opposite direction and straight toward Laura’s room. The door stood open. He paused outside, feeling a bit like a voyeur as he looked in at a private moment. Mrs. Conley busied herself unpacking Laura’s overnight case. Reba stood by the window, talking softly, telling Laura some silly little tale about Jamie’s sixth birthday, and yet ignoring Laura completely. Jim could see that his wife had slipped away briefly into a world where Jamie still existed, that she was oblivious to everything and everyone around her.

His gaze traveled to Laura, who sat in the rocking chair, only a few feet away from the windows. One hand lay atop the other on her belly, as if she were protecting that spot. Her eyes appeared glazed. Apparently, she was completely unconnected to reality. Then, as she rocked back and forth, she looked down at her stomach and smiled.

A cold chill shot through Jim’s body.

Wade Truman was as new at being Cherokee County’s district attorney as Jacob was at being the sheriff. They’d known each other all their lives and had been friends just about as long, despite being total opposites and despite the fact Wade was several years younger. Wade was pure Scots-Irish, not a drop of Cherokee blood in his veins, which accounted for his ruddy complexion, sky blue eyes, and sandy hair. Where Jacob had joined the navy at eighteen, Wade had gone off to UT. Wade came from an upper-middle-class background. His father had been a state senator, his grandfather a federal judge. And Wade had ambitions to run for political office. Jacob suspected that he had his eye on the governor’s mansion. On the other hand, Jacob’s ambitions were modest in comparison. All he wanted was to learn how to be a good lawman.

While rubbing the back of his neck, Wade paced the floor. “Damn it, Jacob, I don’t like the idea anymore than you do, but, my God, man, the evidence is right there in front of our eyes. Jazzy Talbot killed Jamie.”

“No, she didn’t,” Jacob replied, trying to keep his voice calm, which was no easy task, considering how agitated he was. He’d spent the better part of the last hour doing his level best to convince Wade that somebody had framed Jazzy.

“I agree with Jacob,” Dallas Sloan said as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Jazzy’s no fool. She would have covered her tracks better. She wouldn’t have—”

“Let’s say I agree with you two.” Wade stopped pacing and faced Dallas. “I don’t want to prosecute Jazzy. Hell, even if she did kill Jamie—”

“She didn’t!” Jacob and Dallas spoke simultaneously.

“I was just going to say that I don’t entirely disagree with the folks who say whoever killed Jamie should get an award. We all know the guy was a real son of a bitch. And the whole town knows the way he treated Jazzy. A sympathetic jury would go easy on her.”

“If she’s charged with first degree murder, the jury won’t be inclined to let her off scot-free,” Dallas said. “Whoever killed Jamie planned his murder down to the last detail. If you charge Jazzy, it will be for premeditated murder, won’t it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not. As much as I’d like to, I can’t ignore the facts.” Wade grimaced. “Look, Big Jim called me this morning. He wants action and he wants it now. Miss Reba is calling for Jazzy’s head on a silver platter.”

“And you intend to serve Jazzy up to Miss Reba.” Jacob knotted his hands into tight fists. He needed half an hour with a punching bag to work off some frustration. He knew Wade had little choice in the matter. If the Uptons wanted Jazzy arrested for murder, then her fate was sealed.

“Jazzy has no alibi for the time—”

“Caleb McCord says otherwise,” Dallas told him.

“And who is Caleb McCord?” Wade frowned. “What do we know about this guy, other than he’s Jazzy’s lover and would lie for her? Hell, for all we know, he helped her kill Jamie.”

“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 a 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 asking 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 indepth 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 wrong to distrust him.”

“Yeah, I know. And Genny is usually right. But not always. Sometimes she lets that big heart of hers overrule both 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 Goodygoody. 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, knowing all along that he was a condemned man. He was going to fuck her. No doubt about it. And the devil could have 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 foreplay. 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.”