Shadowed Paradise (45 page)

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Authors: Blair Bancroft

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #suspense, #murder, #serial killer, #florida gulf coast, #florida jungle

BOOK: Shadowed Paradise
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Go on!” Jordan urged. “Do it. I want
you too.” For the first time since Claire had found Jordan with his
hands around Jody’s neck, she saw the hysteria, the madness, come
sweeping back. His words were like bullets. Nasty, taunting,
designed to give pain. “That’s the way I planned it, Blue. I killed
that little girl downstairs, and all the others. I stalked your
wife, planned to rape her . . . kill her.” Jordan’s eyes left Brad
to rake over Claire. “Believe me, I would have had her before—and
after—I killed her. So use the gun, Blue. You’re supposed to be
good at it. You’ve got the stomach for it. Do it!”


No way.” Brad shook his head. “I’m
really going to enjoy watching them put the straight jacket on you.
And I’m going to come to the funny farm just to make sure they
don’t make your life too cushy.” He motioned with the gun. “Let’s
go, Lovell, it’s over.”

Jordan, backed hard against the low stucco
wall, glanced at the blue of the pool far below. His voice rose.
“For God’s sake, Blue, shoot me! Remember Diane,” he taunted.
“Remember what I did to her. Shoot, damn you. Or I’m going to
jump.”


Oh, I am remembering Diane,” Brad
said, his voice so cold and deadly, Claire shivered. “I remember
Jody and all the others. Go ahead and jump, Lovell. I want to hear
you scream all the way down.”

Below them, the sirens had wound to a halt.
There wasn’t a sound, only the whisper of the breeze through the
trees. One moment Jordan Lovell was there; the next, he was gone.
The silence was broken only by the sickening thud of a body hitting
the cement four stories below. The rattle of flying lawn chairs.
And then, once again, all was quiet.

Chapter Twenty-six

 

It was nearly nine o’clock before the milling
crowd at Palm Court finally diminished to the point where the last
official question had been asked, the last white and green patrol
car had exited the driveway, and even Sheriff Jeffries was saying
goodbye. Ginny Bentley had been notified; also, Wade Whitlaw,
Garrett, and Claire’s parents in Connecticut. Throughout the long
ordeal Jamie had scarcely left his mother’s side.

Brad and Doug Chalmers, who had arrived only
minutes after the police, walked Bill Jeffries to his car,
spreading soft soap and mending fences with each step. The
sheriff’s satisfaction in ending the problem of a serial killer in
his territory only partially offset his chagrin at Brad Blue’s
nearly unerring profile of the case.

After heaving a soft sigh of relief, Claire
took Jamie by the hand and headed for the inviting comfort of the
kingsize sofa in the courtyard room. She hugged Jamie to her side .
. . drank in the peace and quiet. It was over. Really over. With
only one, very important, hanging thread. Jody. Jody who had clung
stubbornly to a spark of life.

So now they waited.

Once again, Garrett and Phil had provided
food, prompting Phil to mutter something about a new career—Tierney
Catering, ready and available for all emergencies. As Brad and Doug
came back into the room, Jamie was finishing off his second
six-inch sub, as if he were nineteen instead of almost nine. “Wash
that down with some soda, Jamie,” Brad advised, “and tell everybody
how you saved your mother’s life today. She’s been so busy with the
police, I don’t think she’s heard your story yet.”

Jamie almost choked on his last bite. “I
didn’t,” he mumbled, his mouth still full. “You did.”


I admit I cut the architect short when
Claire lost Pat to the accident, but what if Slade and I had taken
our time driving home? What if we’d walked in without knowing the
score? Even if we’d sensed something was wrong, we’d have had to
search the whole first floor first.” Brad gave his newly acquired
son an encouraging smile. “Go on, Jamie. Tell her.”

Jamie wiped the oil and vinegar on his hands
onto his T-shirt, then pulled away from his mother to sit up tall
and straight, his feet not quite touching the marble floor. “Well,”
he began, “when I was in the closet the first time, it was awful
dark, but I noticed there was a little bit of light at the back. So
the second time I was in the closet, when I knew mom and Jody were
in real trouble, I found there was a window and this tree outside,
a skinny green tree . . .”


A cedar,” Brad explained. “Grandma
Tyree liked cedars.”


Anyway, it came all the way up to the
window, so I just grabbed the tree and slid down. It was easy, but
kinda prickly.”

Claire opened her mouth, felt Brad’s hand
clamp on her arm. Stifling her horror over what might have
happened, she returned her attention to her son.


I sneaked around to the kitchen, but I
was kinda scared to go in,” Jamie admitted, obviously chagrined by
his cowardice. “But I could see Mom’s purse lying on the counter.
She carries this big old open purse, and half the things in it keep
falling out,” he confided to his avid listeners. “Anyway, I could
see her cell phone right there, lying out in plain sight. So I
grabbed it. I went back out and hid in the bushes and called Brad.
That’s when he told me him and Slade . . .”


He and Slade,” Claire corrected
automatically.


Whatever,” said Jamie grandly. “Brad
and Slade were only five minutes away, Brad said. He told me to
take the phone and hide in the apartment over the garage and not
come out until he called me. So I did,” Jamie added with jaunty
satisfaction of a man with a job well done.


Good God,” Claire breathed.


Attaboy, Jamie!” Garrett
approved.


I always knew you were trouper,
Jamie,” said Doug Chalmers. “You toughed it out when you were only
six. I’m not at all surprised you did so well this time
around.”


You did good, son, I’m proud of you.”
Brad reached across Claire and offered Jamie his hand. Solemnly,
the two men in Claire’s life shook hands.

From the kitchen came the sound of a
banging screen door. A stream of words preceded the new arrival.
“Do I smell food? Tell me I smell food.” Slade burst through the
archway from the kitchen at a near run. “Thank you, lord, it
is
food. Dad, I’m going to have a
beer. Don’t even think of telling me I can’t.”


We’re not interested in the state of
your stomach, Slade,” his father retorted. “We’re waiting to hear
about Jody.”

Slade sprawled on the floor next to the
coffee table and reached for a sub. “She can’t talk yet,” he
mumbled around his first bite, “and her neck’s a mess, but she’s
going to be fine.” He gulped down two more giant bites, swallowed
while popping the top of a Bud. “You wouldn’t believe the scene at
the hospital. I never knew anybody could have that many relatives.
The place was a zoo. I hardly had a chance to see her. The
hospital’s keeping her overnight, but she can go home tomorrow. No
problem.”

Tears started down Claire’s cheeks as the
horror of seeing Jody’s seemingly lifeless body came back in a
rush. “I thought she was dead,” she whispered.


We all did,” Brad said.


Me too,” Jamie echoed, adding, “How’d
you know she was alive, Slade?”


I didn’t,” Slade admitted. “Brad and I
were searching the house, and when we saw Jody lying there, we both
figured she was gone, but Brad sent me to find out for
sure.”

Slade’s eyes never left the aluminum can in
his hand, but Claire watched in fascination as his ears turned
bright red. “I did CPR,” he muttered. “I was pretty shook up. It
took a couple of rounds before I realized she was already
breathing. I was taking off my shirt—to cover her up, you know—when
her eyes came open. It was so weird, like I could see everything
coming back to her, reflecting in her eyes. They got so wide when
she finally really focused on me that I thought they’d pop.”

Slade took another long pull on the beer, met
his father’s disapproving glance, and chug-a-lugged three swallows
in a row. “Have you ever seen anybody blush all over? I mean, turn
red from the toes right on up? I got the shirt on her all right,
but when I walked into her room at the hospital she did it again—at
least all the parts of her I could see. Hell, I was going to ask
her to Homecoming, but I don’t think she’ll ever be able to look at
me again without turning tomato.”

Claire pictured Slade’s hands on Jody’s naked
chest, pumping air, his lips giving her the kiss of life. For Slade
Whitlaw, Jody Stevens had come back from the dead. Claire ducked
her head to hide a grin. Now that tragedy had been averted, they
could all use a bit of comic relief, even if Slade and Jody were
suffering from ultimate embarrassment.

Brad looked his red-faced young cousin in the
eye. “If you don’t mind a bit of advice from an old man like me,
I’d go back to see Jody tomorrow—you’ll have to lose the relatives
first—and ask her anyway. Even if she still can’t talk and turns
beet red, I bet she’ll be nodding yes.”


Slade,” Claire added with conviction,
“believe me, that girl adores you. And you’ve rescued her twice.
What better recommendation could you have?”

Phil, opening her mouth to agree, got out
nothing more than, “Oomph!” as Garrett elbowed her in the ribs. An
endorsement of Jody Stevens by Garrett or even Phil could send
Slade running in the opposite direction, a combination of teenage
rebellion and sheer Whitlaw cussedness.


Guess maybe I will,” Slade mumbled,
attacking his third six-inch sub.


Lose the relatives, huh?” said Garrett
dryly. “I know a hint when I hear it.” He paused for a deep breath.
Even politicians were sometimes at a loss for the appropriate word.
“Before we go—since nearly the whole family is here—Phil and I
would like to tell you that we’re getting married. Right away. We
decided life’s too short to wait.” Garrett paused, obviously
waiting for the storm to follow.

Slade regarding his prospective
stepmother with nothing worse than mild interest. He polished off
the last bite of his third sub, licked his fingers. “It’s fine with
me,” he said to Phil, “as long as I don’t have to call you
mom
.”

Phil shuddered. “Heaven forbid.”


Okay,” Slade said easily. “When’s the
wedding?”

Garrett looked at Phil, got nothing more than
an infinitesimal shrug of her shoulders. “As soon we can arrange
it,” Garrett said firmly.


Melanie’s gonna be pissed,” Slade
declared, proving that nothing in life is easy. “I should probably
take her snorkeling or something, maybe parasailing, while you guys
do the deed.”


I want my children there.” There was a
decided edge to Garrett’s statement.


I think maybe Slade’s . . .” Phil
began.


Just go for it, Dad,” Slade
interrupted. “I’ll do my damnedst to get her there, even if I have
to hogtie her. I’ve been bigger than she is for five years
now.”


Do I get to give the bride away?” Brad
drawled.

Claire gasped. Appalled silence enveloped
them all, until Claire groaned, followed by what sounded remarkably
like a chuckle. “I swear I don’t know how you lived this long, you
abominable Russian cracker,” she declared.

Phil bounced to her feet. “Clean-up time,”
she announced and started clearing the debris from the coffee
table.

In a matter of minutes the remains of the
impromptu meal were gone, the leftover drinks stored in the
refrigerator. Garrett, Phil and Slade had been thanked with hearty
handshakes from Brad, a hug and a kiss from Claire.

Doug Chalmers paused in the kitchen door.
“You were right, all down the line,” he said to Brad. “I sure as
hell would like to know how you do it.”


I don’t know,” Brad said, lips curling
into a wry grin. “It just happens that way sometimes. I can’t see
my theory it was all the same person helped much in this case. If
Lovell hadn’t decided to end it, I doubt we would have caught him.
He’d still be out there, doing his thing, with none of us the
wiser. We really didn’t have jackshit to give us a clue it was
him.”


Decided to end it?”
Doug repeated, his fingers clutching the edge of the screen
door. “I was here for most of the questioning. I never heard a word
about
decided
. Another one of
your off-the-wall theories?”


I had that feeling too,” Claire added.
“Jordan said . . . let me think . . . he said something about
counting on the fact that Brad would come after him.”


At the other murders, at the mall, at
the model,” Brad explained, “he got away clean, leaving us all with
egg on our face. This time he attacked people he knew in a house
where he was personally known. Nothing makes sense unless we figure
he planned on getting caught. No,” Brad amended with certainty,
“not caught. Killed. He planned on me killing him.”


Yes, I think you’re right,” Claire
said, vividly recalling those final moments on the roof.
“Basically, Jordan was a very civilized person. I think something
must have happened to make him realize what he had
become.”


Diane maybe,” Brad said. “Killing her
might have shocked him back to reality. I suppose we’ll never
know.”

In what seemed an odd switch of subject Doug
Chalmers said, “My wife left me last year for a nine-to-five type,
took the kids with her. I’ve discovered I rather like this wild
country of yours. I’ve applied for a transfer to the local office
and I’ve already talked to the boss about you, Brad. We’d like you
to consult for us. What about it?”

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