The Last to Die (49 page)

''This so-unds se-ri-o-us." Sally grin-ned. "Ma-king an oath to the Al-mighty and all."

"Jazzy, I lo-ve you," Ca-leb sa-id qu-ickly and wit-ho-ut he-si-ta-ti-on. "And if you'll gi-ve me a se-cond chan-ce, I'll pro-ve to you just how much."

A hush fell over the ro-om, as if ever-yo-ne was hol-ding the-ir bre-ath. She lo-oked from one per-son to anot-her and was met with smi-les. They all knew that Ca-leb McCord just might turn out to be the best thing that had ever hap-pe-ned to her.

Jazzy swal-lo-wed te-ars of hap-pi-ness, gra-te-ful to be ali-ve and lo-ved by so many pe-op-le.

She smi-led at Ca-leb. "I think may-be you and I both ne-ed a se-cond chan-ce."

He kis-sed her then. Warm and ten-der, with a hint of pas-si-on. 'Thank you," he whis-pe-red aga-inst her lips.

Epilogue

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Of co-ur-se the day was per-fect. Genny and Dal-las de-ser-ved not-hing less than true per-fec-ti-on on the most spe-ci-al day of the-ir li-ves. Sun-s-hi-ne in abun-dan-ce. Blue sky over-he-ad. Gre-en grass be-ne-ath the-ir fe-et. Wild flo-wers blo-oming pro-fu-sely. Birds chir-ping. Fid-dlers pla-ying alon-g-si-de flu-tists. The me-lo-di-es an-ci-ent. Cel-tic. Che-ro-kee. So-me-ti-mes a sub-t-le blen-ding, just as the bri-de her-self was a mix-tu-re of the two nob-le pe-op-le.

Genny had ne-ver be-en mo-re be-a-uti-ful than she was this spring af-ter-no-on in June when she ex-c-han-ged vows with the man she lo-ved. Of co-ur-se the gro-om was han-d-so-me. In his sim-p-le black su-it and gray-st-ri-ped tie, his at-ti-re com-p-li-men-ted his new wi-fe's una-dor-ned an-ti-que whi-te she-ath of she-er or-gandy over an aged silk un-der-lay. Genny's granny, Mel-va Mae Nel-son, had wed her true lo-ve, Jacob But-ler-the pre-sent day Jacob's gran-d-fat-her-in the dress Genny wo-re to-day. Her long shiny black ha-ir hung lo-osely to her wa-ist, un-fet-te-red by jewelry or a he-ad-pi-ece and ve-il, the spar-k-ling di-amond on her fin-ger, now ma-ted to the sim-p-le gold wed-ding band, her only em-bel-lis-h-ment.

Jazzy jo-ined the gro-up of un-wed wo-men as Genny pre-pa-red to toss her bo-uqu-et of pa-le pink wild ro-ses. Jaz-zy's li-fe had chan-ged un-be-li-evably in the past six we-eks sin-ce she'd ne-arly di-ed at the hands of a mad-wo-man. Not-hing wo-uld ever be the sa-me aga-in. Her vi-ews on li-fe in ge-ne-ral had al-te-red. She was stron-ger, wi-ser, far mo-re ca-uti-o-us. And she was hap-pi-er than she'd ever be-en, mostly due to her re-la-ti-on-s-hip with Ca-leb McCord. She hadn't told him she lo-ved him. Not yet. It wasn't that what she felt for him wasn't lo-ve, but af-ter what she'd go-ne thro-ugh with Jamie, she wasn't re-ady to com-mit her who-le he-art to an-yo-ne. Not un-til she was su-re. Not only of the man, but of her-self.

She trus-ted Ca-leb and be-li-eved he lo-ved her. But she co-uldn't for-get that he was now the Up-ton he-ir or that Miss Re-ba, des-pi-te Big Jim so-undly de-fen-ding Jaz-zy to his wi-fe, still di-sap-pro-ved of her. Ca-leb hadn't mo-ved in-to the Up-ton man-si-on, but ever-y-body knew who he was now. She'd told him that he co-uldn't put off the ine-vi-tab-le for much lon-ger and he hadn't di-sag-re-ed with her. He still li-ved in the ren-tal ca-bin and still wor-ked as the bo-un-cer at Jaz-zy's Jo-int. But even he ad-mit-ted that he was con-si-de-ring Big Jim's of-fer to co-me in-to the fa-mily bu-si-ness em-pi-re.

Jazzy sup-po-sed she didn't qu-ite trust Ca-leb to cho-ose her, to put her first, if it ca-me to a cho-ice bet-we-en her and what his gran-d-mot-her wan-ted. And so-me-day so-on, it wo-uld co-me to that.

He un-der-s-to-od that she wo-uld want mar-ri-age and chil-d-ren. And Miss Re-ba wo-uld op-po-se the-ir uni-on. They hadn't dis-cus-sed mar-ri-age. Not yet. But they wo-uld. She'd be-en the one who'd sug-ges-ted they ta-ke the-ir re-la-ti-on-s-hip slow and easy and gi-ve them-sel-ves plenty of ti-me to be su-re. Re-luc-tandy, Ca-leb had ag-re-ed.

Maybe dhngs wo-uld work out for them. It was what she wan-ted, what he pro-fes-sed he wan-ted, too. But she ne-eded ti-me. She was ba-rely on the mend af-ter her long hos-pi-tal re-cu-pe-ra-ti-on.

And the-re was anot-her re-la-ti-on-s-hip she had to work out fir-st-the re-la-ti-on-s-hip with Re-ve Sor-rell.

Reve had cal-led her whi-le she'd be-en in the hos-pi-tal. And in the we-eks sin-ce her re-le-ase, they had tal-ked on the pho-ne se-ve-ral ti-mes. Jaz-zy had qu-es-ti-oned Aunt Sally abo-ut her birth and her aunt had told her the sa-me old story aga-in and aga-in. No twins. No se-cond child. Cor-ri-ne Tal-bot ga-ve birth to one baby girl. Jaz-zy had no sis-ter. No twin. But a part of Jaz-zy do-ub-ted her aunt. Her gut fe-elings told her that Re-ve was her sis-ter-her twin.

Before she co-uld mo-ve for-ward with her li-fe and ma-ke a com-mit-ment to Ca-leb, she had to
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find out the truth. And from so-me things Re-ve had sa-id re-cendy, Jaz-zy was pretty su-re she felt the sa-me way. If Aunt Sally wo-uldn't help her une-arth the truth, then she'd ha-ve toj find anot-her way to dis-co-ver who she re-al-ly was. Ca-leb had prot-hi-sed her that he'd do ever-y-t-hing he co-uld to help her. For the first ti-me in her li-fe, she had a strong, re-li-ab-le man at her si-de.

All the bri-des-ma-ids flut-te-red and gig-gled as they lif-ted the-ir arms and re-ac-hed for the bo-uqu-et that sa-iled to-ward them. May-be it was be-ca-use she sto-od a co-up-le c&, in-c-hes tal-ler than the ot-hers, or may-be be-ca-use Genny aimed di-rectly at her, Jaz-zy wasn't su-re, but the bo-uqu-et; of wild ro-ses lan-ded in her up-lif-ted hands. She clut-c-hed; the frag-rant no-se-gay to her bo-som and la-ug-hed. Wo-uld; she be the next Che-ro-kee Co-unty bri-de? Wo-uld she and: Ca-leb truly find the-ir hap-pily ever af-ter? With bubbly; hap-pi-ness war-ming her he-art, Jaz-zy glan-ced aro-und the crowd and her ga-ze con-nec-ted to Ca-leb's, who sto-od alo-ne, away from the crowd.

Barefoot, as we-re Genny and her ot-her at-ten-dants, Jaz-zy ran ac-ross the fi-eld at the back of Genny's ho-use whe-re the out-tlo-or ce-re-mony had ta-ken pla-ce. She ra-ced stra-ight in-to Ca-leb McCord's open arms. Li-fe was go-od. And the fu-tu-re lo-oked bright.

Dear Re-ader,

Now that you've fi-nis-hed re-ading the se-cond bo-ok in my Che-ro-kee Po-in-te tri-logy, I ho-pe you're cu-ri-o-us abo-ut what's co-ming up next. In Sep-tem-ber 2004, the third and fi-nal in-s-tal-lment of this se-ri-es will be re-le-ased. You can ex-pect to see mo-re of Genny and Dal-las, as well as Jaz-zy and Ca-leb. Pic-king up whe-re left off, AS GO-OD AS DE-AD re-in-t-ro-du-ces Jaz-zy's lo-ok-ali-ke, Re-ve Sor-rell. Are the-se two wo-men re-al-ly twin sis-ters who we-re se-pa-ra-ted at birth? If so, why was the in-fant Re-ve thrown in-to a Dum-p-s-ter and left for de-ad? Wo-uld a mot-her re-al-ly ke-ep one child and dis-po-se of anot-her so he-ar-t-les-sly? And do the re-cent mur-ders in Che-ro-kee Co-unty ha-ve an-y-t-hing to do with the mystery sur-ro-un-ding Re-ve and Jaz-zy? The up-co-ming third bo-ok in the tri-logy will put She-riff Jacob But-ler in the fo-ref-ront and pit him in a de-adly ga-me aga-inst a bril-li-ant kil-ler. Al-so, lo-ok for sparks to fly bet-we-en Jacob and a cer-ta-in lady he in-ten-sely dis-li-kes. For a hint of what's to co-me, check out the pro-lo-gue for AS GO-OD

AS DE-AD in the back of this bo-ok.

In 2004, I ha-ve se-ven new bo-oks ten-ta-ti-vely sche-du-led, two from Zeb-ra and fi-ve from Sil-ho-u-et-te. For tho-se of you who ha-ve be-en fol-lo-wing my "The Pro-tec-tors" se-ri-es, you'll be ple-ased to know that fo-ur of my fi-ve Sil-ho-u-et-te no-vels this ye-ar will be part of this on-go-ing se-ri-es. Co-ming in Feb-ru-ary, lo-ok for my next The Pro-tec-tors" bo-ok from Sil-ho-u-et-te In-ti-ma-te Mo-ments, DOW-N-RIGHT DAN-GE-RO-US. The bo-ok picks up whe-re the June '03

sin-g-le ti-de, GRA-CE UN-DER FI-RE, left off and has Ra-fe Dev-lin and El-sa Le-one as the pro-ta-go-nists. Using her po-si-ti-on as the ma-na-ger of WJMM ra-dio and TV sta-ti-ons in May-s-vil-le, Mis-sis-sip-pi, El-sa fo-unds the May-s-vil-le Go-od Sa-ma-ri-tans, an or-ga-ni-za-ti-on of con-cer-ned ci-ti-zens de-ter-mi-ned to cle-an up the se-edy area of the town whe-re cri-me go-es un-c-hec-ked. But so-me-one wants to stop the MGS and ze-ro-es in on El-sa. Af-ter an at-tempt is ma-de on El-sa's li-fe, her boss hi-res Dun-dee agent, Ra-fe Dev-lin, to pro-tect her.

Look for my very first 'The Pro-tec-tors" DE-SI-RES in Ap-ril and June. Both sto-ri-es ha-ve re-uni-ted lo-vers as the pro-ta-go-nists and de-al with a pa-rent's worst nig-h-t-ma-re- child
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ab-duc-ti-on. Lo-ok for the re-turn of FBI agent, Dan-te Mo-ran, from GRA-CE UN-DER FI-RE, who'll show up in both of the-se DE-SI-RES. When Mo-ran le-aves the FBI, his first ca-se as a Dun-dee agent turns out to be much mo-re than he bar-ga-ined for in my No-vem-ber '04 no-vel. I'll be ta-king part in the la-unch of Har-le-qu-in's new ma-in-s-t-re-am ro-man-ce li-ne, HQN, with Mo-ran's The Pro-tec-tors" bo-ok ten-ta-ti-vely ti-ded WORTH DYING FOR I'm ex-ci-ted abo-ut the op-por-tu-nity to mo-ve my Dun-dee agents from se-ri-es ro-man-ce in-to ma-in-s-t-re-am ro-man-ce fic-ti-on.

In May, my con-t-ri-bu-ti-on to the "Fa-mily Sec-rets" con-ti-nu-ity se-ri-es, CHECK MA-TE, Bo-ok #12, will be on the stands. This bo-ok wraps up all the lo-ose ends of the se-ri-es and gi-ves re-aders the long-awa-ited Jake In-g-ram story. I truly tre-asu-re each of my re-aders and enj-oy he-aring from you. You can wri-te to me in ca-re of Ken-sin-g-ton Bo-oks. And ple-ase check out my Web si-te at www.be-ver-ly-bar-ton.com, sign my gu-est bo-ok, and sign up for my monthly e-ma-il new-s-let-ter.

Warmest re-gards,

Please turn the pa-ge for an ex-ci-ting sne-ak pe-ek of 's

AS GOOD AS DEAD.

Coming in Sep-tem-ber 2004 from Zeb-ra Bo-oks!

Chapter 1

Reve Sor-rell clo-sed the lid on her su-it-ca-se, lif-ted it off the fo-ot of her bed and set it on the flo-or. She'd be-en up for over an ho-ur, af-ter wa-king at three, unab-le to sle-ep. Her de-ci-si-on to re-turn to Che-ro-kee Po-in-te had be-en ma-de af-ter a gre-at de-al of de-li-be-ra-ti-on. She'd spent months unab-le to put Jaz-zy Tal-bot out of her mind. Back in the spring she'd dri-ven up to the mo-un-ta-ins to se-ek out the wo-man Jamie Up-ton had told her was her spit-ting ima-ge, a wo-man who lo-oked eno-ugh li-ke her to be her twin. She'd met Jamie at a party he-re in Chat-ta-no-oga, back be-fo-re Chris-t-mas last ye-ar. He'd be-en a char-ming jerk, the type of man she usu-al-ly avo-ided.

But he had pi-qu-ed her cu-ri-osity when he'd men-ti-oned that his te-ena-ge swe-et-he-art, a bar and res-ta-urant ow-ner in Che-ro-kee Po-in-te, wo-uld easily pass for Re-ve's twin.

If she hadn't be-en an aban-do-ned child, adop-ted in in-fancy by we-althy so-ci-ali-tes, Spen-cer and Les-ley Sor-rell, she'd ha-ve pas-sed off Jamie's com-ments wit-ho-ut a se-cond tho-ught. But sin-ce she knew not-hing of her birth pa-rents, she won-de-red if it was pos-sib-le that this
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Jasmine Talbot Jamie had men-ti-oned co-uld be her sis-ter. So she'd dis-re-gar-ded what her com-mon sen-se had told her-not to go dig-ging aro-und in the past-and had go-ne to Che-ro-kee Po-in-te. Her first en-co-un-ter with Jaz-zy had be-en less than ple-asant. She'd fo-und the wo-man to be rat-her cru-de and vul-gar. They had dis-li-ked each ot-her on sight. And Re-ve wo-uld ha-ve re-tur-ned ho-me that very day, if she hadn't be-en in-vol-ved in a mi-nor car ac-ci-dent.

As if wrec-king her Jag hadn't be-en bad eno-ugh, fol-lo-wing the ac-ci-dent, the lo-cal she-riff had tre-ated her ab-y-s-mal-ly. She-riff Jacob But-ler was an old fri-end of Jaz-zy's and to-ok of-fen-se at an of-f-hand com-ment Re-ve had ma-de abo-ut the wo-man. It had se-emed to Re-ve as if half the men in town we-re Jaz-zy's fri-ends, a fact Re-ve had le-ar-ned both fir-s-t-hand and from lo-cal gos-sip.

To com-p-li-ca-te mat-ters now that she was re-tur-ning to Che-ro-kee Po-in-te, she'd be-en pla-gu-ed by tho-ughts of the big, surly, half-bre-ed she-riff. He was a tho-ro-ughly un-p-le-asant sort. A re-al ruf-fi-an. Af-ter the-ir ini-ti-al en-co-un-ter, she had ho-ped she wo-uld ne-ver see the man aga-in.

But when Jamie Up-ton was mur-de-red whi-le she was still in town and a wit-ness had iden-ti-fi-ed a wo-man fit-ting Jaz-zy's des-c-rip-ti-on-and the-re-fo-re her des-c-rip-ti-on-as ha-ving be-en se-en with Jamie shortly be-fo-re his de-ath, She-riff But-ler had co-me knoc-king on her do-or. He'd had the gall to prac-ti-cal-ly ac-cu-se her of the mur-der, had in fact as-su-med-er-ro-ne-o-us-ly-that Jamie and she had be-en lo-vers. Na-tu-ral-ly, it hadn't ta-ken the aut-ho-ri-ti-es long to re-ali-ze she wasn't in-vol-ved in the cri-me, so she had, than-k-ful-ly, be-en ab-le to es-ca-pe from Che-ro-kee Po-in-te and the wat-c-h-ful eyes of the Ne-an-der-t-hal she-riff.

Upon re-tur-ning to Chat-ta-no-oga, to her ho-me on Lo-oko-ut Mo-un-ta-in and her set of fri-ends and bu-si-ness as-so-ci-ates, she'd tri-ed to put her less than ple-asant ex-pe-ri-en-ces in Che-ro-kee Po-in-te be-hind her. She hadn't wanted to think abo-ut Jaz-zy or the fact that they did in fact re-sem-b-le each ot-her in a way only twins did. But try as she might, she hadn't be-en ab-le to era-se from her mind the ima-ge of her do-ub-le, a wo-man of du-bi-o-us cha-rac-ter.

Reve sig-hed he-avily. Wo-uld she reg-ret go-ing back to Che-ro-kee Po-in-te and jo-ining for-ces with Jaz-zy to se-ek the truth abo-ut the-ir pos-sib-le sis-ter-ho-od? They had spo-ken on the pho-ne se-ve-ral ti-mes re-cently. So-mew-hat re-luc-tantly, Re-ve had ma-de that first call. Thirty ye-ars ago, so-me-one had thrown her in-to a Dum-p-s-ter in Se-vi-er-vil-le and left her for de-ad. She'd be-en an in-fant, pos-sibly only days or we-eks old at the ti-me. Ho-we-ver, Jaz-zy's aunt Sally, who had ra-ised her from a baby, swo-re that her sis-ter Cor-ri-ne had gi-ven birth to only one child. Was Sally Tal-bot lying? Or was the-re so-me ot-her ex-p-la-na-ti-on? Re-ve knew she'd ne-ver ha-ve any pe-ace of mind un-til she fo-und out the truth-the who-le truth.