Serendipity (Southern Comfort) (35 page)

Her anger seemed to burn the chill from the room, and her labored breath puffed out like steam.  Lightening cracked, thunder rumbled, and that icy gaze sizzled where it touched her skin.

Until he hauled her up against his chest. 

His mouth crushing hers in a firestorm, Jordan’s arms were the ones that shook. Hot tears leaked out of Ava’s eyes as she felt herself melt against him. So cold.  She’d been so cold, and here was the warmth. 

Jordan cupped her face, brushed at her cheeks, and pulled back just enough so she could see him.  “I’m sorry. I love you, Ava, and I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.”

Ava started to sob.  “Oh God, Jordan, I love you, too.”

Scooping her up gently as if she were a china doll, he carried her to the sofa. 

And held her, pressing his lips to her hair as her heart emptied itself of tears.   

“DRINK this,” Jordan coaxed as he handed Ava a cup of hot tea.  He’d gotten her out of her wet clothes, wrapped her in a blanket on the corner of the couch, but now that the anger had left her she couldn’t seem to shake the chill. 

“I feel a little sick.”

“The tea’s chamomile.  Lucky thing you had it.”  The power was still out, but he’d managed to ignite the pilot light on the stove and heat a kettle of water.  “My mom always swore by it when one of us had an upset stomach.”  And he knew she needed the heat now, as she seemed to be suffering a kind of shock.

Hell, so was he. 

He’d not only had the rug yanked out from under him, but it had been rolled up and used to beat him when he was down. 

Thunder rumbled outside, but the worst of it had died to what he thought of as an old man’s grumbling.  “Thanks,” Ava said as he joined her, glancing up out of red and swollen eyes.  The candlelight flickered over her tear-ravaged cheeks, and Jordan felt like a big bully. 

“I’m sorry.”  He sought out her feet under the blanket and tried to rub some heat into them with his hands.  No matter how many times he said that, it wouldn’t make up for putting that wounded look on her face. 

“It’s too bad this place doesn’t have a fireplace,” she said, shivering. 

“I’ll keep you warm.”  He tucked the blanket tighter around her.  “Ava.  Are you ready to talk a little more?”

“Might as well.”  She eyed him over the rim of the cup.  “You’ve seen my trump card.  Why not get the rest of them out on the table?”

He squeezed her foot, drew both of them into his lap. “Okay. I understand the whole chain of events which resulted in you dumping me at the hospital.  But what I’m still not clear on is why your uncle would have gone after me in the first place.  Most of the drug cases I’ve tried have been fairly small time, and I can’t see how they would have affected his pipeline, his business.  It’s not like there’s a shortage of pushers on the street.  There’ve been some pretty big meth rings busted up in the past few years, but far as we could tell, they were strictly local.  Unless somewhere along the line I inadvertently stepped on his toes.”

Ava shook her head.  “It wasn’t supposed to be you.  That’s, well, I guess you could call it the irony of the whole situation.  I overheard the men who took you, that night at the club.  I don’t know how, or why, but they got you by mistake.”  She hesitated, and he knew she was struggling against what had to be a knee-jerk instinct for self-preservation.  Growing up as she had, who she had, she couldn’t help but see him on some level as the enemy.  And though that burned, and badly, he tried to set it aside so they could get past this.

“Ava.”  When she wouldn’t look at him, he gently cupped her chin.  “Ava.  You can trust me.  I won’t lie and say you won’t be hurt by this, because we both know some repercussions are inevitable.  By I promise you, sweetheart.  I’m on your side.”  He brushed her lips with his.

He drew back, searched those bruised-looking eyes, and nearly panicked when they watered up again.  “Uh-oh.  I’m –”

“No,” she said, and blinking furiously, pushed them back.  “Don’t be sorry.  Don’t.  I’m just… I guess I’m just so relieved to hear you say that.  I was so afraid.  So afraid to lose you, to have to push you away when I wanted you so much.  But more, I was afraid for you to look at me as something less.  A lot of people have, because of what my family is, or has done.”

“I look at you.  And I see more than I ever hoped for.”

“Oh.  Well, now that’s done it.”  A tear spilled over and she flapped her hand, set the tea aside so she wouldn’t spill it.  “Maybe I could just go ahead and tell you the rest, before I start to blubber like a damn baby.  It wasn’t supposed to be you,” she continued, drawing a steadying breath.  “My uncle was after the federal prosecutor in charge of my father’s trial.”      

“Ah.” So things began to make sense.  And if he hadn’t been so blindsided by his conversation with Evan, he probably would have made the connection sooner.  “Stephen Finch.  He was supposed to be the key-note speaker at the symposium I told you about.  He called me, last minute, and talked me into filling in.  I guess your uncle’s men knew they were supposed to tag the speaker, and assumed I was the one.  Pretty big oops.  And pretty damn ballsy,” his brows drew together “for your uncle to go after Finch in the first place.”

“He loves my father.”  Ava shrugged when he only stared at her.  “In his own very twisted way.  He manipulates him, needs to control him, and has pushed my father into doing things that he normally wouldn’t have dreamed.  Not that my father is blameless – like the saying goes, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink, but my father drank, and drank deeply.  But Carlos was truly upset when my father was arrested, even more so when the indictment stuck.  Part of that is self-serving – my father could be, and was, offered leniency if he rolled on my uncle.  I think Carlos was prepared to intimidate, threaten, bribe – even murder – to get my father acquitted.  He’s used similar tactics before.”

“Except now he’s got a hell of a mess on his hands.”  Hesitating, Jordan considered how much to tell her of what he’d learned.  But she’d shown her cards, and he figured he owed her no less.  “About the men who abducted me…” he told her of the bodies in the burned out car.  “The evidence isn’t all in yet, but I believe those are their remains.”

“Yes.”  She closed her eyes.  Wearily, he thought.  “Yes, that would be his way.  Clean up the mess, eliminate the complications.  Make the punishment fit what he saw as the crime.  He’s very good at doling out punishment.”  And when she reached for the tea again, her hand trembled.  “He told me.  Knowing I’d feel guilty for going to my father about the harassment, he told me that his men wouldn’t be bothering me anymore.  Clean up his mess, make my life more difficult.  Two birds with one well-cast stone.  Your friend,” she added, as her hand shook and the rain hissed.  “The place where she was found, the other remains there would have been my uncle’s doing also.”

The knife of that had already been in his gut.  If he was abducted mistakenly, how much more senseless did that make Leslie’s death?   But that kind of thinking wasn’t productive.

“My brother… he’s FBI, Ava.  They’re investigating the site.  The who and the why.”

“They won’t be able to tie anything to Carlos.  He’s too slick.  Don’t say it.”  She held up a hand, looked at him with eyes that broke his heart.  “I know that my knowledge of events that night could give them what they need for a warrant.  I know you’ll ask me to talk to them.  Tell them what I know.” 

He squeezed her foot between his hands.  “Ava.  The man is a threat, to you most of all. I don’t think you have a choice.” 

Ava leaned her head back on the sofa, listened to the dying breath of wind rattle the eaves.  “Do you realize what it would mean, if I did?  I’d have to go into hiding.  Change my name, give up my business. Everything I’ve worked for.  And even if I could handle that,” she watched the rain slide down the window “I’m not sure if I could handle leaving you.”

“Ava –”

“Don’t.”  Slightly panicked, she pushed at the hand he lifted to her face.  “I knew it was coming.  Knew, from the moment you walked into my clinic, that my life would never be the same.  I fought it – fought you – but this is the way it has to be.  I won’t let Carlos get away with it anymore.  He destroys lives, mine not least among them.  He drove Michael away. Brought my father to ruin. And I hold him responsible for my mother’s disappearance.  She wouldn’t have simply vanished from a church parking lot if it wasn’t for him.”

“Wait. I thought your mother passed away.”

“No one has seen or heard from her in nearly two years.  I’m sorry, it’s another black mark on me, but was easier to let you think that than to explain the circumstances.”

Something shifted in his eyes.  “That photo album I was looking at the other night.  Is it still under the sofa?”

“I think so.”  She leaned over to move the candle closer while he dug the album out.  “Careful, the glass is hot.”  He tilted it closer, studied a picture of her first communion, and her heart began to thud.  “What?”  Her throat was dry, her stomach jumpy.  “What is it?”   

Jordan looked at the image of the woman beside the child, her hair a lush mass of curls, her smile so vivid and bright. She glowed, positively glowed, as she hugged her only daughter.  She wore a rosary.

A beautiful, cut-crystal rosary.

Jordan sat the candle down, and studied Ava’s face.  So beautiful, so like the woman in the photo.   

“What?” 

“This rosary.”  He tapped his finger against the picture.  “It’s very distinct.”

“It is.  My great-grandmother had it handcrafted for her upon her confirmation.”

“I’ve seen it before.”

“That’s impossible.” Her tone was confused, her eyes wary.  “She had it with her when she disappeared.  She’d worn it to evening mass.”

“I saw it.” Jordan gripped her fingers tightly.  “The night they found Leslie.  I’m sorry, Ava.  But I think your mother might be buried there, too.”

“BETTER?”  Jordan handed her a cool washcloth for her face. 

To Ava’s dismay, she’d just spent the past ten minutes being violently, horribly sick.  Now she sprawled on the ugly tile in her darkened bathroom, feeling as if the bottom had just dropped out of her world.  She’d thought she understood the level of her uncle’s depravity, but this went beyond anything she would ever have guessed.

He’d killed his sister-in-law in order to keep his brother under his thumb.

“It’s my fault,” she said hoarsely.

“What?”  Jordan pinched her chin, dragged her face around toward his.  “How could you say something that foolish?”

“They – my parents – moved to Savannah to be near me.  After I set up my practice.  They sold their place in Atlanta. That’s where my father’s family is from, where my uncle lives most of the time.”  Her lip quivered, but she bit it.  “I told my father that I wanted to start fresh, that I didn’t want his… activities messing things up for me here.  He was easing back.  Easing away from his brother.  Until my mother disappeared.” 

Jordan sat next to her on the tile, and when he took her hand she laced their fingers.

“Papa went out of his head with grief.  Uncle Carlos convinced him it had been a…a hit from one of their rivals, and Papa shot the man.  It turned out the man was an informant.  I guess it was Uncle Carlos’ way, again, of killing two birds with one stone.  Keep his brother under his control, eliminate the competition. But it would never have happened if it hadn’t been for me.  My mother would still be alive.” 

“Ava.”  She heard, understood, the sympathy in his voice, but was a little taken aback by the exasperation.   “I was just about to tell you, again,” he explained as he glanced over at her “how foolish it is for you to feel that way.  But considering I’ve been beating myself up over what happened to Leslie, I guess that’s pretty much the pot condescending to the kettle.  I’m sorry.”  He lifted her hand, brought her fingers to his lips.  “I understand the need to shoulder some responsibility, even if it’s wrong.  It shows you’re a good person. But I can almost guarantee your mother wouldn’t want that from you, or for you.  Especially when your uncle is at fault.”

Of all the things he could have said, none could have resounded more.  “You’re right.  And as terrible as all of this is, the one good thing to come from it is that Uncle Carlos has dug his own grave.  My father loves his brother, but my mother was… everything.  I have to tell him, Jordan.  He has to know what my uncle has done.”

“I feel duty bound to point out that the burden of proof hasn’t yet been met.”

“Such a lawyer.”  And wasn’t it nice, to be able to feel that little glimmer of humor through the tears?  “We both know what the tests will show, though – God – I can probably get my mother’s dental records to expedite the process.”

“We’ll arrange it,” Jordan assured her.  “I’m going to give my brother a call right now.  I know that it’s small consolation at a time like this, but everything you just told me is going to make his night.  It’s going to make a lot of people’s nights.  You’re like the goose that laid the golden law-enforcement egg.”

“Glad I could help,” she said dryly.  “Hell, a family full of do-gooders.  What have I gotten myself messed up in now?”

Jordan framed her face between his hands.  “Get used to it, Ava.  Because for better or worse, you’re stuck with us.”