As Good as Dead (41 page)

Neither of us meant for it to happen. And I know it surprised her that she could actually love somebody, least of all a man old enough to be her father."

Reve glanced at Griffin. "You said that two other men continued to see Dinah after she moved to Sevierville, right?"

"That's correct," Griffin replied.

"Maxwell Fennel was my cousin and fresh out of law school," Farlan explained. "I hired him to take charge of Dinah's finances, to see to it that she had anything she wanted.

That's why Max visited her on a monthly basis."

"And the other man was Judge Dodd Keefer," Reve said.

"Dodd is my brother-in-law. I met Dinah through him. He'd been one of Dinah's regu-lar customers, and he fell in love with her. But he wanted to end things because the guilt nearly destroyed him. Dodd is an honorable man and he truly loved his wife. He confessed his sins to his wife and she forgave him, but for quite some time after he was no longer Dinah's lover, he visited her. He couldn't quite let go. Not until he learned she was pregnant with my baby."

"I take it that you were married and had no intention of divorcing your wife," Reve sa-id. "Why didn't you just arrange for Dinah to have an abortion?"

"Neither of us wanted that. She wanted to have my child-my children. And I asked my wife for a divorce."

"You did?" Reve couldn't believe what he'd told her.

"Yes, I did. But my wife, who was and still is mentally unbalanced, refused to give me a divorce. She even tried to kill herself, and when she survived the attempt, she swore she'd try again if I left her. We had a twelve-year-old son. How could I have taken the chance that his mother would kill herself?"

"So you made a choice between your wife and son and your mistress and twin daughters?" The rage boiling inside her surprised Reve. She'd wanted to know the truth, but now she hated the truth. She hated this man's wife and son. And she hated him.

"Dinah understood," Farlan said. "She's actually the one who made what she believed was the right decision for us. She made plans to move to Atlanta and take our babies with her. And I arranged through Maxwell to care of her and our children financially."

"How noble of you!"

"I don't blame you for being angry. I don't blame you for hating me."

"Obviously Dinah didn't take her twins and move to Atlanta," Reve said. "Do you want to tell me what went wrong? What happened? How did Jazzy wind up being stuck in a tree stump and left for dead? How did I wind up being thrown in a Dumpster, like a piece of trash?"

Farlan shook his head. "I don't know. I swear, I don't know." Tears welled up in his eyes. "All these years, I believed the three of you were safe and happy ami-"

"But not once"-Reve spoke through clenched teeth- "not once in thirty years did you ever make sure, did you? You just sent us packing and forgot about us."

"No!" Farlan jumped to his feet. "Not one day of my life has passed that I didn't think about Dinah, about our two little girls and wonder-"

Reve looked at her father-and she knew in her heart that this man was her father, just as she'd known Jazzy was her sister-and almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"Do you know of anyone who might have hated my mother enough to harm her?" Reve asked. "Who would have wanted to see Jazzy and me dead?"

Farlan's face went chalk white. "Oh, God. No. No."

"Who?" Reve demanded, but Farlan simply sat back down, buried his face in his hands and wept.

He watched from across the street when Farlan MacKinnon left Jasmine's with Griffin Powell. Reve Sorrell stood in the doorway of the restaurant and shook hands with the private investigator, then turned to Farlan. They just looked at each other and he could tell, even from this distance, that the old man wanted to put his arms around his daughter and hug her. But he didn't. He couldn't see Reve's face so he couldn't be sure about her feelings. He'd hoped she would hate Farlan and tell him to go to hell. Apparently that hadn't happened. But she wasn't exactly kissing her daddy goodbye, so maybe all wasn't lost But what did it matter? He was going to kill Reve, just as he'd killed Dinah. And then he would kill Jazzy and finish off the unholy trinity. Mother and both daughters. He'd heard Jazzy had come out of her coma and was on the verge of remembering the face of her attacker. Good. Whoever the idiot was who had presumed to copy him, the man deserved to be caught.

Sheriff Butler and Chief Sloan kept close watch over Reve, day and night, but that little problem wouldn't defeat him. It was simply a matter of eliminating the guard and finding Reve unawares. After all, how difficult could it be to out smart one of these yokel law-men?

He chuckled to himself as he studied Reve Sorrell. You mine. Perhaps tonight. After all, I don't dare wait much long, Dinah will seek me out again soon and tempt me to play our little game. Before that happens, I have to concentrate o riding myself of her two daughters. Reve first and then Jazzy.

And he knew just how he'd kill them. The same way he'd killed Dinah. He would strangle them with a black ribbon. But before he killed Reve, he would make love to her, as he'd made love to her mother. Just the thought of touching her, of thrusting into her, aroused him unbearably. No, he couldn't wait much longer.

"I'm going to kill your babies," he whispered. "Do you hear me, Dinah? I'm going to take them away from Farlan just as I took you away from him."

The only way they had been able to convince Caleb to go home and get a good night's rest was by Jacob agreeing to stay at the hospital and keep watch over Jazzy. Reve had dropped Caleb off at his cabin and then driven back into town. She'd been hearing mur-murs all day long, gossip about Jazzy. When she'd told Jacob that somehow word had leaked out that Jazzy had regained consciousness and would soon be able to identify her attacker, he'd made her promise not to mention it to Caleb.

"If he knows Jazzy's attacker might hear about her recovery, Caleb will never leave her side," Jacob had said. "The guy is one of the walking wounded. If he doesn't get some rest soon, he'll collapse and wind up in the hospital himself."

Reve had agreed, so she'd kept quiet, especially after Jacob told her that both he and Dallas were staying at the hospital tonight.

"I promise you that we won't let anything happen to Jazzy," he'd sworn to her.

After she parked her Jag at the back of Jazzy's Joint, she wondered if she should run by both the restaurant and the bar tonight and check on things. But she was tired and sleepy.

She hadn't gotten much rest last night. Remembering how she'd spent those hours, she smiled. There was nothing she'd like better than to lie in Jacob's arms all night again tonight.

He'd pulled her aside and kissed her before she left the hospital. "I'd rather be spending the night with you tonight."

"Yes, I'd like that, too," she'd told him.

"One of Dallas's men, Officer Graves, will follow you home and be outside Jazzy's apartment all night tonight." Jacob had cupped her face with both hands. "I'll come by first thing in the morning."

Sighing, her mind fast-forwarding to morning and the possibility that she and Jacob would make love again, Reve waved good night to Officer Graves, a dark-haired young man in his mid-twenties. He'd parked the black-and-white police vehicle on the side of the street, directly below the staircase that led up to Jazzy's apartment. When she waved at him, he waved back and smiled.

Once inside the apartment, she flipped on the overhead light in the living room and tossed her purse and keys on the closest chair, then made her way straight to the bedroom.

Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, she couldn't believe it was only seven-forty-five.

She kicked off her shoes and undressed, dumping her clothes on the bed. Getting used to picking up after herself when she'd spent a lifetime being waited on by servants hadn't co-me easy to Reve. Occasionally she forgot that no one would come along behind her and clean up after her. Oh, well, she'd gather up everything later.

Once completely naked, she headed for the bathroom. Tonight she wanted a tub bath.

She wanted to soak in some scented hot water-maybe some bubble bath-for a good twenty minutes and think about everything that had happened. Everything from becoming lovers with a man she thought she despised to meeting the man she believed was her father.

And she wanted to celebrate in her own quiet, private way, the fact that her sister had come out of a coma and was not only going to live, but had a good chance of fully recovering.

Moments later, after pinning her hair atop her head, Reve settled into the foamy bath-water and closed her eyes. She tried to concentrate on the positive, on Jaz2y's recovery and her relationship with Jacob)-whatever that relationship was-but all she could think about was Farlan MacKinnon and Dinah Collins. Her parents.

When Farlan had sworn to her that for all these years he'd thought Dinah and her twins were alive and well and living happily in Atlanta, she'd believed him. She couldn't easily forgive him, but she did believe him. He wasn't totally blameless, but he hadn't deliberately harmed either Dinah or her babies. Reve felt certain that the man really had loved Dinah.

Perhaps he's paid for his sins, she thought. After all, he had spent a lifetime with a crazy woman he didn't love. And their only child was Brian MacKinnon, a not-so-nice man whom Jazzy disliked intensely.

Oh, Lord, what would Jazzy say when she found out that Brian was their half-brother?

I haven't seen anyone I know since arriving at the hospital and the few people I've seen
paid little attention to me. Why should they? I dressed very discreetly and have done nothing to draw attention to myself. As far as anyone knows, I'm simply here to visit a sick
friend. And if by some horrific chance I actually do run into anyone who recognizes me, I
have a very good excuse. A sweet old lady from church had been admitted to the hospital
only yesterday, so wasn’t it a good Christian's duty to visit the sick?

I wonder if there will be guards outside Jazzy's door. When I called earlier, from a pay
phone downtown, I was told she’d been put in a private room. Room # 310.I had so hoped the bitch would die, but I should have known that if she had survived being abandoned in the woods as an infant, she might survive being hit in the head with a hammer-twice.

There's the nurses'station up ahead. I must keep my head down and not look directly at
anyone. If somebody approaches me, I'll pretend I'm lost. Keep walking. Don't slow
down.

I just passed Room 304. Jazzy Talbot is only three doors down.

Uh-oh, there's a nurse talking to some man. Is he a plainclothes policeman? No, no,
he's not. He's thanking the nurse and coming this way. He just passed me without even
glancing my way. And the nurse returned to Room 305.

I can breath a sigh of relief. There's Room 310. Not a guard in sight. But there could
be one inside. Yes, there could be, but I won't know until I check. And if there is a guard
in Jazzy's room, what then? I'll apologize for being in the wrong room, then I'll leave and
figure out another way to get to Jazzy before she remembers anything about the night I
attacked her.

She never saw my face.

Are you sure?

I'm certain. At least, I'm almost certain.

Almost isn’t good enough.

That's one of the reasons she has to die.

Don't be afraid. Walk right on into the room as if you belonged there.

There's Jazzy lying on the narrow hospital bed, her short red hair bright against the
white pillow. Go over and take a really good look at her. See if she looks as much like Dinah as Reve does. Take a good hard look at Farlan's other bastard daughter.

Oh, she's a pretty thing. Every bit as pretty as Dinah and the spitting image of her twin
sister.

If only Slim had killed those babies, I wouldn’t have to be here now, forced to murder
another human being. I hate the thought of killing her now, just as much as I did the
night I hit her in the head with the hammer and threw her off the bridge.

Look around, check in the bathroom, make sure you and Jazzy are all alone.

Ah, yes, we 're alone. Just the two of us.

It will be so easy. All I have to do is simply pick up the extra pillow lying in the chair
there and cover her face. Yes, that's all there is to it. I'll hold the pillow over her face until she stops breathing. Then I'll put the pillow back in the chair and walk out of here as if
nothing happened.

I can do it. I have to do it.

The pillow was fluffy and soft, the case lightly starched. Jazzy hadn t opened her eyes,
hadn 't moved. No doubt she was drugged. Good. That way she wouldn’t put up a fight.

Lower the pillow. Down. Down. That's it. Cover her face completely. Hold the pillow
down tightly.

No, no, Jazzy was supposed to be asleep, supposed to be drugged. Why is she fighting
me, struggling to live? Let go of me, you little bitch. I have to shake off her grasp around
my wrist. I'm stronger than she is. I can control her.

Finish the job. Don't let her stop you. Kill her. Kill her now!

A pair of huge hands grabbed her by the arms and flung her backward and away from Jazzy. In her peripheral vision she saw a big blond man jerk the pillow away from Jazzy's face and lift her up into his arms. Gasping for air, Jazzy stared at her with those large brown eyes that looked so much like Farlan's eyes.

"No, dammit, no! You don't understand. She has to die! I can't allow her to live."

"Apparently you're the one who doesn't understand, Mrs. MacKinnon-we won't allow you to hurt Jazzy again."

Veda looked up at a giant of a man who pulled out a pair of handcuffs as he came toward her.

"There's been a mistake, Sheriff Butler," Veda said.