The Last to Die (26 page)

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Authors: Beverly Barton

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Caleb sta-red in-qu-iringly at Jacob.

"Folks might think you two we-re in ca-ho-ots," Jacob sa-id. "May-be Jaz-zy lu-red Jamie up to that ca-bin whe-re you we-re wa-iting for him. May-be it wasn't a wo-man who kil-led him. May-be it was a je-alo-us lo-ver. May-be the two of you de-ci-ded that the only way to get Jamie out of Jaz-zy's li-fe per-ma-nently was to kill him."

Jazzy grab-bed Ca-leb's arm, sen-sing he was on the ver-ge of hit-ting Jacob. "No, don't. Jacob is only pla-ying de-vil's ad-vo-ca-te. Be-si-des, he's rig-ht-you won't help me by lying abo-ut our be-ing to-get-her when Jamie was kil-led."

Jacob's cell pho-ne rang. He han-ded the evi-den-ce bag to Mo-ody and told him to get it over to the she-rif-fs of-fi-ce im-me-di-ately. Ret-ri-eving his pho-ne from its belt hol-der, he pun-c-hed the ON

but-ton.

"Butler he-re." He lis-te-ned, then sa-id, "Why am I not sur-p-ri-sed?"

"What is it?" Genny as-ked, but Jaz-zy sen-sed that by the lo-ok on her best fri-end's fa-ce she al-re-ady sus-pec-ted what Jacob had be-en told.

'Yeah, Dal-las, thanks. Me-et me over at my of-fi-ce as so-on as pos-sib-le." He lo-oked at Jaz-zy.

"I know what I ha-ve to do, but I su-re as hell don't ha-ve to li-ke it." Jacob hit the off but-ton and re-tur-ned his pho-ne to the clip hol-der on his belt.

"You know Dal-las went back to the ca-bin and then to the si-te whe-re the Jag was dum-ped, to over-see things the-re," Jacob sa-id. "We've com-bi-ned for-ces-the she-rif-fs de-par-t-ment and the po-li-ce de-par-t-ment."

"What did Dal-las tell you?" Jaz-zy as-ked, and when Genny slip-ped her hand over Jaz-zy's and
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squ-e-ezed, she knew the news was re-al-ly bad.

"They fo-und a bo-ok of mat-c-hes at the ca-bin," Jacob sa-id. 'They're from Jaz-zy's Jo-int. Got the lo-go on the co-ver."

"So? Big de-al." Ca-leb all but snar-led his sta-te-ment. "Half the po-pu-la-ti-on of Che-ro-kee Co-unty pro-bably has a Jaz-zy's Jo-int bo-ok of mat-c-hes."

"Yeah, I know, and the mat-c-hes alo-ne wo-uldn't pro-ve an-y-t-hing. But co-up-led with the blo-ody kni-fe and-I Jacob pa-used and cur-sed softly un-der his bre-ath. 'They fo-und so-met-hing in the wo-ods only a few fe-et away from the bur-ned out Jag."

Three sets of eyes fo-cu-sed on Jacob, but he lo-oked only at Jaz-zy. "They fo-und a red silk scarf with the ini-ti-als J.T. mo-nog-ram-med on it."

Jazzy la-ug-hed. "Who-ever the hell she is, she's go-od. She didn't ste-al just any of my scar-ves. No, she had to ste-al the one with my ini-ti-als on it-the one my fri-end the she-riff ga-ve me for my bir-t-h-day last ye-ar."

Chapter 16

"Is ever-y-t-hing set for Miss La-ura's re-turn?" Re-ba as-ked Do-ra as the ho-use-ke-eper ser-ved them af-ter-no-on cof-fee in the sun-ro-om.

"Yes, ma'am. The flo-rist de-li-ve-red the fresh flo-wers you or-de-red, and I've pla-ced the ar-ran-ge-ments aro-und the ro-om," Do-ra rep-li-ed. "I chan-ged the bed li-nen as you re-qu-es-ted and I mo-ved Miss She-ri-dan's things in-to anot-her ro-om so that Miss La-ura can ha-ve com-p-le-te pe-ace and qu-i-et."

"Has the nur-se we hi-red to lo-ok af-ter La-ura ar-ri-ved?" Re-ba ner-vo-usly rub-bed her thro-at, the tre-mor in her hand a su-re sign that the me-di-ca-ti-on Dr. Mac-Na-ir had pres-c-ri-bed to so-ot-he her was we-aring off.

Jim re-ac-hed over and gras-ped his wi-fe's wrist, then slip-ped his big hand aro-und her small one.

"Mrs. Con-ley went di-rectly to the hos-pi-tal to me-et An-d-rea and Ce-cil. She sug-ges-ted it was best if she spe-ak to La-ura's pa-rents be-fo-re brin-ging her ho-me, as well as get in-s-t-ruc-ti-ons on La-ura's ca-re from Dr. Mac-Na-ir and the hos-pi-tal psychi-at-rist."

Dora pla-ced the sil-ver ser-vi-ce on the wic-ker tab-le, then lif-ted the sil-ver pot and po-ured cof-fee in-to two chi-na cups. "Will the-re be an-y-t-hing el-se?"

"No, that will be all," Jim told the ho-use-ke-eper.

"I want ever-y-t-hing pos-sib-le do-ne for La-ura. That child has be-en thro-ugh-" Re-ba's vo-iced crac-ked; te-ars po-oled in her eyes. "She has lost ever-y-t-hing, just as we ha-ve. Jamie. And the
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baby." She clut-c-hed Jim's hand tightly. "Oh, Jim, the baby. Jamie's baby. If only…"

Jim sco-oted to the ed-ge of his wic-ker cha-ir, le-aned over, and dra-ped his arm aro-und Re-ba's sho-ul-ders. "Not-hing can be do-ne abo-ut it now. The baby's go-ne."

"Yes, the baby's go-ne." Re-ba dab-bed the cor-ners of her eyes with her fin-ger-tips. "It's as if we've be-en cur-sed, as if Fa-te-or God-is de-ter-mi-ned to ta-ke ever-y-t-hing from us and le-ave us not-hing. First Jim Jr. and then Me-la-nie. Our chil-d-ren. Both such be-a-uti-ful, fi-ne pe-op-le. And now Jamie, our only gran-d-c-hild. If only La-ura hadn't lost the baby, we wo-uld ha-ve-"

Reba bro-ke down and cri-ed. She'd be-en crying a lot the-se past fo-ur days, and Jim had do-ne his best to be at her si-de. She de-ser-ved no less. As he pat-ted her ten-derly, he tho-ught abo-ut Erin and how des-pe-ra-tely he'd wan-ted to be with her, to find the com-fort in her arms that he co-uld find now-he-re el-se. But how co-uld he slip away- day or nig-ht-when Re-ba ne-eded him so? And if he we-re to-tal-ly ho-nest with him-self, he'd ha-ve to ad-mit that as much as he wan-ted Erin, as much as he ne-eded her, right now he ne-eded his wi-fe mo-re. No one un-der-s-to-od the depth of his des-pa-ir the way Re-ba did. No one sha-red his gri-ef and sen-se of ho-pe-les-sness as she did. No one el-se had lo-ved Jamie as much as he did, only Re-ba.

"We'll get thro-ugh this so-me-how." Jim held her, and as she mel-ted in-to him as if so-me-how ab-sor-bing his strength, he le-aned his he-ad over aga-inst hers and pres-sed his lips to her tem-p-le. A ten-der fe-eling swel-led up in-si-de him. He had ne-ver be-en in lo-ve with Re-ba, but he did ca-re for her, per-haps even lo-ved her in a way. "We've still got each ot-her, for what it's worth."

Sniffling softly, she tur-ned to fa-ce him. "Do we? Do I still ha-ve you?"

A ner-vo-us pang hit him in the gut. Did Re-ba know abo-ut Erin? Or did she simply sus-pect that the-re was anot-her wo-man, that the-re had al-ways be-en ot-her wo-men? "Of co-ur-se you still ha-ve me. I'm he-re, aren't I?" With the ut-most gen-de-ness, he ca-res-sed her che-ek. "We've be-en thro-ugh a lot to-get-her in the-se past fif-ty-fo-ur ye-ars and so-me-how sur-vi-ved. We'll sur-vi-ve this, too."

"I don't know if I want to sur-vi-ve." Re-ba ga-zed in-to Jim's eyes, and what he saw frig-h-te-ned him. Ut-ter ho-pe-les-sness. The will to li-ve fa-ding away.

"I can't be-ar to see you li-ke this. Ple-ase-"

Dora ca-me rus-hing in-to the sun-ro-om. 'They're he-re. Miss La-ura is ho-me!"

Jim hel-ped Re-ba to her fe-et and to-get-her they hur-ri-ed to gre-et La-ura. An-d-rea and Ce-cil flan-ked the-ir da-ug-h-ter. A sul-king She-ri-dan ca-me in be-hind them, car-rying La-ura's over-night ca-se. A tall, ro-bust wo-man in her mid for-ti-es en-te-red the fo-yer last. Jim as-su-med the tall bru-net-te was Mrs. Con-ley, the psychi-at-ric nur-se that Dr. Mac-Na-ir had highly re-com-men-ded.

Reba wal-ked qu-ickly for-ward, then he-si-ta-ted for a fo-ment, se-ar-c-hing La-ura's pa-le, emo-ti-on-less fa-ce. Jim mo-ved in slowly be-hind his wi-fe and put his hands on her sho-ul-ders.

'Welcome, ho-me, my de-ar, de-ar girl," Re-ba sa-id. "Yo-ur ro-om is all re-ady for you."

Thank you," La-ura rep-li-ed. 'You've be-en so kind to me. Sin-ce the day Jamie bro-ught me ho-me and in-t-ro-du-ced me to y'all as his fi-an-c-ée, you've be-en not-hing but gra-ci-o-us and kind."

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"Oh, La-ura… swe-et girl… you're ever-y-t-hing we ever ho-ped for in a wi-fe for our Jamie."

Andrea slip-ped her arm aro-und La-ura's wa-ist. "If y'all don't mind, I think La-ura sho-uld lie down for a whi-le."

"Yes, of co-ur-se." Ten-sing, Re-ba le-aned bac-k-ward in-to Jim. "How tho-ug-h-t-less of us to ke-ep you stan-ding he-re in the fo-yer when you-"

Laura pul-led away from her mot-her, went stra-ight to Re-ba, and held out her hands. "Wo-uld you walk me to my ro-om, Miss Re-ba? And ple-ase sit with me, just for a few mi-nu-tes. No one el-se will let me talk abo-ut Jamie. No one el-se lo-ved him the way we did."

Jim glan-ced from Ce-cil Wil-lis to Mrs. Con-ley, si-lently qu-es-ti-oning them as to whet-her Re-ba sho-uld ag-ree to La-ura's re-qu-est.

Mrs. Con-ley mo-ved in and an-s-we-red his qu-es-ti-on qu-ite ef-fi-ci-ently. She la-id her hand gently on La-ura's sho-ul-der as she lo-oked right at Re-ba. "Yes, Mrs. Up-ton, why don't you co-me with us and help me get La-ura set-tled in? Her pa-rents and sis-ter can check in on us la-ter."

Laura gras-ped Re-ba's hand and the two he-aded to-ward the sta-ir-ca-se. Mrs. Con-ley to-ok La-ura's over-night bag from She-ri-dan, and af-ter a qu-ick glan-ce at Jim- with an un-der-s-tan-ding pas-sing bet-we-en them that she wo-uld lo-ok af-ter both La-ura and Re-ba-she fol-lo-wed her char-ges.

"Am I dis-mis-sed?" She-ri-dan as-ked in-so-lently.

Andrea sig-hed. "Why don't you-oh, de-ar, you're sha-ring a ro-om with La-ura. I didn't think-"

"We had Do-ra mo-ve She-ri-dan's things in-to the bed-ro-om ac-ross the hall from La-ura," Jim sa-id.

''Thank you," An-d-rea rep-li-ed.

''That's gre-at," She-ri-dan sa-id, an in-so-lent, phony smi-le on her fa-ce. "Do-es an-yo-ne mind if I ta-ke a bre-ak from all this me-lod-ra-ma? I'd li-ke to fres-hen up and then go in-to town, if I co-uld bor-row a car." 'Ta-ke Jamie's Mer-ce-des," Jim sa-id. "Ask Do-ra for the keys." He'd de-ci-ded that he didn't li-ke She-ri-dan Wil-lis. She ca-me ac-ross as a spo-iled rot-ten, ha-te-ful lit-tle bitch.

Ac-tu-al-ly she was the fe-ma-le equ-iva-lent of Jamie. Tho-se two wo-uld ha-ve be-en a per-fect match. And they pro-bably had be-en, Jim tho-ught. He didn't do-ubt for a mi-nu-te that Jamie had sco-red with the yo-un-ger Wil-lis sis-ter.

''That's very ni-ce of you," An-d-rea sa-id, "but-"

"You and Daddy ta-ke ca-re of La-ura," She-ri-dan sa-id. "Don't worry abo-ut me. La-ura co-mes first, do-esn't she? As al-ways." With a smir-king, con-des-cen-ding grin, she whir-led aro-und and he-aded down the hal-lway to-ward the kit-c-hen.

"I must apo-lo-gi-ze-" Ce-cil sa-id.

"No ne-ed." Jim held up his hand in a stop ges-tu-re.

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"We plan to ta-ke La-ura ho-me with us af-ter the fu-ne-ral," An-d-rea sa-id. "The so-oner she gets away from… well, from the re-min-ders of Jamie, the so-oner she'll start to he-al."

"I un-der-s-tand," Jim sa-id. "But it will be dif-fi-cult for Re-ba to let her go. I think tho-se two ne-ed each ot-her right now. If y'all co-uld stay on just a few days af-ter the fu-ne-ral, I'd ap-pre-ci-ate it."

Cecil nod-ded. "We'll do wha-te-ver the doc-tors sug-gest is best for La-ura." ‘’Yes, of co-ur-se.

Na-tu-ral-ly La-ura must be yo-ur first con-cern." An aw-k-ward si-len-ce fol-lo-wed. Fi-nal-ly Jim sa-id, "If y‘all ha-ven't had lunch, we can get Do-ra to whip up so-met-hing."

"I co-uldn't eat a bi-te," An-d-rea rep-li-ed. "But a cup of tea wo-uld be ni-ce." She tur-ned to her hus-band. "Darling, why don't you co-me with me? We'll ha-ve Do-ra fix you a san-d-wich."

Jim wat-c-hed as An-d-rea Wil-lis led her hus-band away. It was ap-pa-rent who the do-mi-nant par-t-ner in that re-la-ti-on-s-hip was. It wasn't that he tho-ught Ce-cil al-lo-wed his wi-fe to le-ad him aro-und by the no-se. No, he didn't think that. He sus-pec-ted that Ce-cil fo-und it com-for-ting to be mar-ri-ed to such a strong, ca-pab-le wo-man. Jim al-most en-vi-ed the man. He won-de-red what it wo-uld be li-ke, just on-ce, to ha-ve a ma-te he co-uld le-an on in-s-te-ad of the ot-her way aro-und.

As he wal-ked up-s-ta-irs, he won-de-red how the vi-sit bet-we-en La-ura and Re-ba was go-ing.

Jamie's do-ting gran-d-mot-her and be-sot-ted fi-an-c-ée. Two wo-men who had lo-ved Jamie de-eply and over-lo-oked his many cha-rac-ter flaws. No do-ubt they wo-uld find Jamie, in de-ath, to be a sa-int Grun-ting, he sho-ok his he-ad sadly. When he re-ac-hed the lan-ding and star-ted to turn to-ward his bed-ro-om su-ite, he pa-used for a mo-ment. Des-pi-te as-su-ring him-self that Mrs. Con-ley co-uld han-d-le two we-eping, mo-ur-n-ful wo-men, he fo-und him-self wal-king in the op-po-si-te di-rec-ti-on and stra-ight to-ward La-ura's ro-om. The do-or sto-od open. He pa-used out-si-de, fe-eling a bit li-ke a vo-ye-ur as he lo-oked in at a pri-va-te mo-ment. Mrs. Con-ley bu-si-ed her-self un-pac-king La-ura's over-night ca-se. Re-ba sto-od by the win-dow, tal-king softly, tel-ling La-ura so-me silly lit-tle ta-le abo-ut Jamie's sixth bir-t-h-day, and yet ig-no-ring La-ura' com-p-le-tely. Jim co-uld see that his wi-fe had slip-ped away bri-efly in-to a world whe-re Jamie still exis-ted, that she was ob-li-vi-o-us to ever-y-t-hing and ever-yo-ne aro-und her.

His ga-ze tra-ve-led to La-ura, who sat in the roc-king cha-ir, only a few fe-et away from the win-dows. One hand lay atop the ot-her on her belly, as if she we-re pro-tec-ting that spot. Her eyes ap-pe-ared gla-zed. Ap-pa-rently, she was com-p-le-tely un-con-nec-ted to re-ality. Then, as she roc-ked back and forth, she lo-oked down at her sto-mach and smi-led.

A cold chill shot thro-ugh Jim's body.

Wade Tru-man was as new at be-ing Che-ro-kee Co-unty's dis-t-rict at-tor-ney as Jacob was at be-ing the she-riff. They'd known each ot-her all the-ir li-ves and had be-en fri-ends just abo-ut as long, des-pi-te be-ing to-tal op-po-si-tes and des-pi-te the fact Wa-de was se-ve-ral ye-ars yo-un-ger.

Wa-de was pu-re Scots-Irish, not a drop of Che-ro-kee blo-od in his ve-ins, which ac-co-un-ted for his ruddy com-p-le-xi-on, sky blue eyes, and sandy ha-ir. Whe-re Jacob had jo-ined the navy at eig-h-te-en, Wa-de had go-ne off to UT. Wa-de ca-me from an up-per-mid-dle-class bac-k-g-ro-und.

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