Authors: Beverly Barton
His fat-her had be-en a sta-te se-na-tor, his gran-d-fat-her a fe-de-ral jud-ge. And Wa-de had
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am-bi-ti-ons to run for po-li-ti-cal of-fi-ce. Jacob sus-pec-ted that he had his eye on the go-ver-nor's man-si-on. On the ot-her hand, Jacob's am-bi-ti-ons we-re mo-dest in com-pa-ri-son. All he wan-ted was to le-arn how to be a go-od law-man.
While rub-bing the back of his neck, Wa-de pa-ced the flo-or. "Damn it, Jacob, I don't li-ke the idea an-y-mo-re than you do, but, my God, man, the evi-den-ce is right the-re in front of our eyes. Jaz-zy Tal-bot kil-led Jamie."
"No, she didn't," Jacob rep-li-ed, trying to ke-ep his vo-ice calm, which was no easy task, con-si-de-ring how agi-ta-ted he was. He'd spent the bet-ter part of the last ho-ur do-ing his le-vel best to con-vin-ce Wa-de that so-me-body had fra-med Jaz-zy.
"I ag-ree with Jacob," Dal-las Slo-an sa-id as he po-ured him-self a cup of cof-fee. 'Jaz-zy's no fo-ol.
She wo-uld ha-ve co-ve-red her tracks bet-ter. She wo-uldn't ha-ve-"
"Let's say I ag-ree with you two." Wa-de stop-ped pa-cing and fa-ced Dal-las. "I don't want to pro-se-cu-te Jaz-zy. Hell, even if she did kill Jamie-"
"She didn't!" Jacob and Dal-las spo-ke si-mul-ta-ne-o-usly.
"I was just go-ing to say that I don't en-ti-rely di-sag-ree with the folks who say who-ever kil-led Jamie sho-uld get an award. We all know the guy was a re-al son of a bitch. And the who-le town knows the way he tre-ated Jaz-zy. A sympat-he-tic jury wo-uld go easy on her."
"If she's char-ged with first deg-ree mur-der, the jury won't be in-c-li-ned to let her off scot-free,"
Dal-las sa-id. "Who-ever kil-led Jamie plan-ned his mur-der down to the last de-ta-il. If you char-ge Jaz-zy, it will be for pre-me-di-ta-ted mur-der, won't it?"
"I don't know. May-be not. As much as I'd li-ke to, I can't ig-no-re the facts." Wa-de gri-ma-ced.
"Lo-ok, Big Jim cal-led me this mor-ning. He wants ac-ti-on and he wants it now. Miss Re-ba is cal-ling for Jaz-zy's he-ad on a sil-ver plat-ter."
"And you in-tend to ser-ve Jaz-zy up to Miss Re-ba." Jacob knot-ted his hands in-to tight fists. He ne-eded half an ho-ur with a pun-c-hing bag to work off so-me frus-t-ra-ti-on. He knew Wa-de had lit-tle cho-ice in the mat-ter. If the Up-tons wan-ted Jaz-zy ar-res-ted for mur-der, then her fa-te was se-aled.
"Jazzy has no ali-bi for the ti-me-"
"Caleb McCord says ot-her-wi-se," Dal-las told him.
"And who is Ca-leb McCord?" Wa-de frow-ned. "What do we know abo-ut this guy, ot-her than he's Jaz-zy's lo-ver and wo-uld lie for her? Hell, for all we know, he hel-ped her kill Jamie."
"You're re-ac-hing, "Jacob sa-id. "And if Ca-leb ne-eds a gold star for ho-nesty and in-teg-rity, may-be I can help get him one."
Wade glo-we-red at Jacob. "What the hell are you tal-king abo-ut?"
''We're run-ning a check on McCord," Dal-las sa-id. "I've got so-me fri-ends at the Bu-re-au do-ing me fa-vor."
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Wade sho-ok his he-ad, then lo-oked up at the ce-iling. "Screw the Bu-re-au. Even if you can gi-ve me evi-den-ce that McCord is a fuc-king sa-int, I can ma-ke a jury be-li-eve he'd lie to pro-tect his wo-man. Any man on the jury will ta-ke one lo-ok at Jaz-zy and re-ali-ze they'd do just abo-ut an-y-t-hing-lie, che-at, ste-al, may-be even kill-to get a pi-ece of her ass."
"Is that what this is all abo-ut?" Jacob got right up in Wa-de's fa-ce and gla-red down at him.
Al-t-ho-ugh tall, Wa-de sto-od a co-up-le of in-c-hes shor-ter than Jacob. "You had a thing for Jaz-zy a few ye-ars ago, and she wo-uldn't gi-ve you the ti-me of day."
Snarling, Wa-de le-aned to-ward Jacob, ta-king a de-fen-si-ve stan-ce. "You know me bet-ter than that. Or at le-ast I tho-ught you did."
Dallas set his cof-fee mug on Jacob's desk, wal-ked over, and clam-ped his hand down on Jacob's sho-ul-der. "Co-ol off."
Jacob ten-sed the mo-ment Dal-las to-uc-hed him. He wan-ted to smash his fist in-to Wa-de's han-d-so-me fa-ce. Jacob clo-sed his eyes for a split se-cond, then to-ok a de-ep bre-ath. He shrug-ged off Dal-las's hand and step-ped back, away from Wa-de.
"Let's just ag-ree to di-sag-ree on this one," Wa-de sa-id. It's my job as the DA to ta-ke ac-ti-on when we ha-ve this much evi-den-ce aga-inst a per-son."
And when Big Jim is bre-at-hing fi-re down yo-ur neck," Jacob sa-id.
"Yeah, the-re's that, too," Wa-de ad-mit-ted. "Lo-ok, I'm ^^ng Jud-ge Ke-efer to is-sue a war-rant for Jaz-zy's ar-rest.
And it'll be yo-ur job as she-riff to send so-me-one to pick her up."
Wade glan-ced from Dal-las to Jacob, then he-aded to-ward the clo-sed do-or. Af-ter he ope-ned the do-or, he pa-used and, wit-ho-ut glan-cing back, sa-id, "You'll ha-ve that war-rant be-fo-re fi-ve."
Once Wa-de left, Jacob stom-ped ac-ross the flo-or, lif-ted the te-lep-ho-ne re-ce-iver, and star-ted di-aling. Dal-las pres-sed his fin-ger down on the ba-se, dis-con-nec-ting the call in prog-ress.
"Whoever you we-re cal-ling, let it wa-it. You ne-ed to ta-ke so-me ti-me to think calmly.
Ra-ti-onal-ly. We knew be-fo-re Wa-de Tru-man sho-wed up that it was only a mat-ter of ti-me be-fo-re you'd ha-ve to ar-rest Jaz-zy."
"Do you ha-ve any idea how fuc-king mad I am? At Wa-de. At myself! I'm the god-damn she-riff.
It's my job to pro-tect the in-no-cent And Jaz-zy is in-no-cent. Plus, out the-re so-mew-he-re is a crazy wo-man who just might be thin-king abo-ut whac-king off so-me ot-her guy's balls."
"We'll find her," Dal-las sa-id. "And when we do, Jaz-zy won't ha-ve to go to tri-al. But for now, you'll do what you ha-ve to do. We've al-re-ady got a sus-pects list star-ted- wo-men we know for su-re had mo-ti-ve to kill Jamie. And all of them might ha-ve be-en MIA the mor-ning Jamie was but-c-he-red. We start by chec-king out the-ir ali-bis."
"Erin Mer-cer says she was in Knox-vil-le at the ti-me, but wo-uldn't say whe-re or with whom."
Jacob co-uld fe-el the ten-si-on dra-ining from him. Dal-las was right. He co-uldn't stop the
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ine-vi-tab-le-Jaz-zy's ar-rest. What he co-uld do was put a bright spot-light on the ot-her sus-pects.
"La-ura Wil-lis's mot-her cla-ims both of her da-ug-h-ters we-re as-le-ep in the-ir beds at the Up-ton man-si-on."
"Yeah, well what abo-ut Mrs. Wil-lis?" Dal-las as-ked. "If Jamie was did-dling both Wil-lis girls, the-ir mot-her might ha-ve tho-ught he de-ser-ved to die."
''We don't know for su-re abo-ut Jamie and the yo-un-ger Wil-lis girl."
"Nah, we don't know for su-re, but I'd lay odds that She-ri-dan Wil-lis al-ways wants wha-te-ver her big sis-ter has. And that in-c-lu-ded La-ura's fi-ancé."
Jacob glan-ced at the te-lep-ho-ne. "By the way, I was go-ing to call Genny. I tho-ught may-be she sho-uld be with Jaz-zy when I ar-rest her."
Dallas nod-ded. "I tho-ught you we-re cal-ling McCord and I knew that if he was the-re when Jaz-zy was ar-res-ted, he might ca-use tro-ub-le and you'd ha-ve to bo-ok him, too. The guy's fu-se is al-most as short as yo-urs. And he's as pro-tec-ti-ve of Jaz-zy as I am of Genny."
"When do you think yo-ur pe-op-le will ha-ve that in-depth re-port on him?" Jacob as-ked. "My call to the Mem-p-his PD told us very lit-tle abo-ut him per-so-nal-ly. All we know is that McCord was a cop who-se par-t-ner was shot to de-ath and that McCord al-most di-ed him-self. Ac-cor-ding to the MPD chi-ef, McCord was an okay guy, but he was a lo-ner and no-body knew much abo-ut his per-so-nal li-fe."
"Teri sho-uld get back to me by to-mor-row at the la-test. If an-y-body can find out the per-so-nal de-ta-ils of Ca-leb's li-fe, Te-ri can."
Jacob frow-ned. Ca-leb McCord was hi-ding so-met-hing. Jacob co-uld fe-el it in his bo-nes. "I'm tel-ling you that the-re's so-met-hing abo-ut that guy."
Something that might af-fect Jaz-zy or in so-me way af-fect this mur-der ca-se?"
"Maybe. Ye-ah."
"You know Genny is con-vin-ced that Ca-leb is the guy to ma-ke all Jaz-zy's dre-ams co-me true.
She thinks we're go-ing to dis-t-rust him." 'Ye-ah, I know. And Genny is usu-al-ly right. But not al-ways.
So-me-ti-mes she lets that big he-art of hers over-ru-le her com-mon sen-se and her sixth sen-se."
* * *
When he ope-ned the do-or and saw her stan-ding the-re, Bobby Joe Har-te wasn't su-re whet-her he was glad to see her or sorry he'd ever met her. She was only a few ye-ars away from be-ing ja-il ba-it. But she su-re as hell didn't act li-ke any ni-ne-te-en-ye-ar-old he knew.
"Hey the-re, law-man." She-ri-dan Wil-lis pun-c-hed him in the chest with the tip of her in-dex fin-ger, ur-ging him; bac-k-ward, in-to his apar-t-ment. "Miss me?"
He didn't bud-ge, des-pi-te the fact his pec-ker throb-bed just lo-oking at her. "What do you want?
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Why are you; he-re?"
She puc-ke-red her lips in-to a fa-ke po-ut. "Now, is that any way to talk to a girl who knows how to gi-ve a guy a gre-at blow job?"
"Is that right? May-be if Jamie Up-ton was still ali-ve, I co-uld ask him." Damn, he hadn't me-ant to let that slip. When he'd he-ard Jacob and Dal-las dis-cus-sing sus-pects and they'd men-ti-oned She-ri-dan, he had be-en mo-re than a lit-tle sur-p-ri-sed.
"What ma-kes you think Jamie and I… that I ever ga-ve Jamie-"
Bobby Joe grab-bed her sho-ul-ders and jer-ked her in-to his apar-t-ment, then kic-ked the do-or shut. "I'm yo-ur ali-bi, you know. But how the hell do you think it's go-ing to ma-ke me lo-ok to the she-riff if I ha-ve to tell him you co-uldn't ha-ve kil-led Jamie be-ca-use you we-re too busy fuc-king my bra-ins out that mor-ning?"
"Why sho-uld the she-riff ca-re what you do when you're not on duty?" She-ri-dan la-id her hands over his whe-re they grip-ped her sho-ul-ders. "I'm of age. I'm not mar-ri-ed, and ne-it-her are you."
"Damn it, She-ri-dan, I sho-uld ha-ve sa-id so-met-hing to the she-riff when yo-ur na-me ca-me up on his sus-pects list." Hell, Jacob was go-ing to skin him ali-ve.
"Why didn't you?" She-ri-dan pul-led Bobby Joe's hands down her arms and aro-und her hips, then pla-ced them on her butt.
He swal-lo-wed as he ga-zed in-to her eyes. "I don't know. Stu-pi-dity I gu-ess. Or may-be I was just out-and-out em-bar-ras-sed that I'd had a one-night stand with a te-ena-ger. And not just any te-ena-ger, but Jamie Up-ton's fu-tu-re sis-ter-in-law, who just hap-pe-ned to be scre-wing aro-und with him."
Sheridan lif-ted her arms up and aro-und his neck and rub-bed her-self se-duc-ti-vely aga-inst him.
"Why do-es it ha-ve to be a one-night stand?"
"Slow down, girl." Bobby Joe tri-ed to push her away. "If you had a thing for Jamie, you su-re are do-ing a go-od job of co-ve-ring up yo-ur gri-ef."
Sheridan shrug-ged, then smi-led wic-kedly be-fo-re she wan-de-red aro-und the li-ving ro-om, lo-oking ever-y-t-hing over as if she we-re con-si-de-ring bu-ying the pla-ce. "I ca-red abo-ut Jamie. I'd ha-ve ma-de a bet-ter wi-fe for him than La-ura wo-uld ha-ve. God, she's such a wimp. Miss Go-ody-go-ody. Daddy's fa-vo-ri-te child." She-ri-dan whir-led aro-und and grin-ned at Bobby Joe.
"But I'm not one to was-te my ti-me mo-ur-ning a lost ca-use. Cut yo-ur los-ses and mo-ve on is my mot-to."
"You're a he-ar-t-less bitch."
Sheridan lif-ted the ed-ges of her long-sle-eved cot-ton swe-ater up and over her he-ad, ex-po-sing her up-per tor-so. Her na-ked bre-asts all but scre-amed at Bobby Joe to to-uch them. Ro-und, firm, and perky. He re-mem-be-red how it felt to ha-ve one of tho-se tight, puc-ke-red nip-ples in his mo-uth.
His sex swel-led and har-de-ned in-s-tantly, she glan-ced down at his crotch and grin-ned.
"Why did you co-me he-re?" Bobby Joe as-ked her, know-^g all along that he was a con-dem-ned
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man. He was go-ing to fuck her. No do-ubt abo-ut it. And the de-vil co-uld na-ve his so-ul la-ter.
"I sho-uld think that wo-uld be rat-her ob-vi-o-us," She-ri-dan told him as she un-zip-ped her je-ans, then rub-bed her fin-gers over her mo-und whi-le she lic-ked her lips.
When he saw the dark tri-an-g-le of curls bet-we-en her thighs ap-pe-ar, he re-ali-zed she wasn't we-aring any pan-ti-es. "How much is this go-ing to cost me?"
She la-ug-hed as she shrug-ged off her je-ans and held out her hands, bec-ko-ning him to her. Not gi-ving a damn, what her as-king pri-ce was, Bobby Joe un-zip-ped his pants and re-ac-hed in-si-de to free his pe-nis. He'd pay the pi-per la-ter, af-ter he'd he-ard the tu-ne.
When he shot ac-ross the ro-om, grab-bed her, and lif-ted her up on the wi-de so-fa back, she spre-ad her legs and grip-ped his sho-ul-ders. He lif-ted her just eno-ugh to ac-com-p-lish his go-al, then ram-med in-to her wit-ho-ut even a pre-li-mi-nary kiss. But hell, she didn't ne-ed any fo-re-play. The sa-va-ge lit-tle bitch was al-re-ady drip-ping wet Hol-ding her hips se-cu-rely, he ma-ne-uve-red her back and forth. She went crazy, scrat-c-hing him, lic-king him, bi-ting him, as they went at each ot-her. It didn't ta-ke long for him to co-me. Whi-le he jet-ted in-to her, she cli-ma-xed and prac-ti-cal-ly clim-bed him li-ke a tree.
When he was ab-le to catch his bre-ath aga-in, he star-ted to re-le-ase her, but she held tight and top-pled them over the back of the so-fa and down on-to the cus-hi-ons. With him lying on top of her, she lic-ked his ear. He shud-de-red. Then she whis-pe-red, "I don't think Jaz-zy Tal-bot kil-led Jamie."
She pa-used, ap-pa-rently gi-ving him a mi-nu-te for her sta-te-ment to sink in. "I think my sis-ter La-ura kil-led him."
Chapter 17
Jazzy won-de-red if her ima-gi-na-ti-on was wor-king over-ti-me or if what she sus-pec-ted was re-al-ly true-that so-me-one was wat-c-hing her. Had so-me nut-ca-se de-ci-ded she was fa-ir ga-me be-ca-use the who-le town tho-ught she kil-led Jamie? Was so-me lu-na-tic stal-king her? May-be.