The Last to Die (19 page)

"Dallas!" Jacob's vo-ice ca-me over the ra-dio, easily he-ard thro-ugh the pic-kup's open do-or.

Dallas jum-ped up in the truck and res-pon-ded. "Ye-ah, Jacob, I'm he-re."

"We fo-und Jamie."

"Alive?"

"No."

Dallas glan-ced at Jim Up-ton. The old man went chalk whi-te.

"I'm sen-ding a co-up-le of our men back down to ta-ke Big Jim ho-me," Jacob sa-id. "But… I ne-ed Genny to co-me up he-re. I'm no fo-ren-sics ex-pert, but I'd say the kil-ler co-ve-red her tracks pretty darn go-od."

"Please, I want to see my gran-d-son," Big Jim sa-id to Dal-las. 'Tell Jacob-"

"She tor-tu-red him to de-ath. He's a sorry sight," Jacob sa-id. 'You tell Big Jim that he do-esn't want to see Jamie tins way. Tell him to ta-ke my word for it."

"Dear God!" Jim Up-ton crum-b-led be-fo-re the-ir eyes. A big, ro-bust man, bro-ught to his kne-es by gri-ef. "Who wo-uld-" His vo-ice bro-ke as he wept.

Genny put her arm aro-und him. "You must go ho-me, Mr. Up-ton, and tell yo-ur wi-fe that Jamie is de-ad. And you'll ha-ve to tell La-ura and her fa-mily."

"Yes." Jim swal-lo-wed in an ef-fort to stop crying, but te-ars still tric-k-led down his che-eks.

''Jacob ne-eds me to ta-ke a lo-ok at the cri-me sce-ne and see if I can pick up on so-met-hing." She pat-ted Jim's back. "I pro-mi-se that I'll do ever-y-t-hing I can to help find out who kil-led Jamie."

Jim as-ked, "You don't think Jaz-zy wo-uld-"

"No! No, of co-ur-se not. Jaz-zy isn't ca-pab-le of such a thing."

Jazzy wo-uld ne-ver tor-tu-re anot-her hu-man be-ing, ne-ver in-f-lict pa-in on any of God's cre-atu-res. She had a go-od he-art. A kind and lo-ving so-ul. But so-me pe-op-le wo-uld sus-pect her.

They wo-uld po-int fin-gers in her di-rec-ti-on. The-ir ac-cu-sa-ti-ons co-uld hurt Jaz-zy, and if Jacob didn't find the re-al mur-de-rer, if Jaz-zy didn't ha-ve an iron-c-lad ali-bi… Genny knew with a he-art-wren-c-hing cer-ta-inty that even in de-ath Jamie Up-ton wo-uld wre-ak ha-voc on Jaz-zy's li-fe.

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Chapter 11

Andrea Wil-lis wa-ited un-til the me-di-ca-ti-on she had per-su-aded La-ura to ta-ke to-ok ef-fect Then she qu-i-etly left her da-ug-h-ter's bed-ro-om, but not be-fo-re glan-cing back to check on her one fi-nal ti-me. She had be-en ca-ring for and pro-tec-ting La-ura sin-ce she'd be-en a lit-tle girl, ho-ping be-yond ho-pe that so-me sort of mi-rac-le wo-uld spa-re the-ir da-ug-h-ter from the cur-se she had in-he-ri-ted. Po-or lit-tle La-ura. If only she co-uld ha-ve lo-ved the child mo-re. But she'd do-ne her best. Even Ce-cil had of-ten sa-id that they had both do-ne ever-y-t-hing in the-ir po-wer to help La-ura. But An-d-rea felt that she had fa-iled La-ura, that she hadn't do-ne eno-ugh, hadn't pus-hed Ce-cil hard eno-ugh to ad-mit the truth.

Andrea didn't stop by the gu-est bed-ro-om she sha-red with her hus-band. In-s-te-ad, she went stra-ight down the back sta-irs to the kit-c-hen. Star-t-led at first by the ho-use-ke-eper's pre-sen-ce, she pa-used on the bot-tom step and con-si-de-red whet-her she sho-uld slip back up-s-ta-irs be-fo-re Do-ra saw her. But then she he-ard She-ri-dan's vo-ice in the kit-c-hen. Her yo-un-ger da-ug-h-ter was la-ug-hing and tal-king to Do-ra.

Andrea mar-c-hed in-to the kit-c-hen. She-ri-dan sat at the tab-le, a bre-ak-fast pla-te in front of her.

One lo-ok at She-ri-dan re-as-su-red An-d-rea that she was per-fectly all right.

With her mo-uth half fil-led with eggs, She-ri-dan sa-id, "Mor-ning, Mot-her."

"Good mor-ning, Mrs. Wil-lis." Do-ra lo-oked up from whe-re she bu-sily pre-pa-red bis-cu-it do-ugh. "Cof-fee's ma-de and I can fix you so-met-hing to eat now if you're hungry. Bis-cu-its won't be re-ady for anot-her half ho-ur, but-" "Cof-fee will be fi-ne. Not-hing el-se for me right now, thank you."

An-d-rea wal-ked in-to the kit-c-hen, po-ured her-self a cup of fresh black cof-fee, then sat down at the tab-le be-si-de She-ri-dan. "Mind tel-ling me whe-re you've be-en all night?" she as-ked qu-i-etly.

"Where do you think?" She-ri-dan whis-pe-red her reply. "I met this re-al-ly in-te-res-ting guy last night whi-le I was in town."

Andrea sig-hed. "I tho-ught as much." She re-ac-hed ac-ross the tab-le and gras-ped She-ri-dan's wrist. 'You we-re ca-re-ful, we-ren't you? You ma-de su-re he used pro-tec-ti-on." 'Yes, of co-ur-se, I did. I'm not a fo-ol. I al-ways ta-ke ca-re of num-ber one."

She ho-ped She-ri-dan was tel-ling her the truth. Des-pi-te the-ir clo-se-ness, her yo-un-ger da-ug-h-ter had li-ed to her on mo-re than one oc-ca-si-on. "Yes, you do. Usu-al-ly. I only wish yo-ur sis-ter…"

When She-ri-dan's eyes wi-de-ned in-qu-isi-ti-vely, An-d-rea re-ali-zed she'd al-re-ady sa-id too much. Al-t-ho-ugh she lo-ved She-ri-dan with all her he-art-yes, mo-re than she lo-ved La-ura-the-ir ol-der child had re-qu-ired the bulk of both Cecil's and her at-ten-ti-on. And over the ye-ars She-ri-dan had grown to re-sent La-ura mo-re and mo-re. An-d-rea sup-po-sed she co-uldn't bla-me her, but the ten-si-on bet-we-en the two girls only com-p-li-ca-ted an al-re-ady com-p-lex si-tu-ati-on.

"What's wrong with po-or lit-tle La-ura now?" She-ri-dan as-ked.

"Lower yo-ur vo-ice," An-d-rea told her. "We do not air our dirty la-undry in front of ser-vants."

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"God, Mot-her, get re-al. You've ne-ver fo-oled an-y-body. Not our ser-vants at ho-me. And not the Up-tons' ser-vants."

"Must you al-ways-" An-d-rea cut her com-p-la-int short, re-ali-zing she was ta-king out her frus-t-ra-ti-on abo-ut La-ura on She-ri-dan. "If you ne-ed to sho-wer and chan-ge clot-hes, sho-wer in our bat-h-ro-om. And I'll get yo-ur things out of La-ura's ro-om. She had a res-t-less night and is just now sle-eping pe-ace-ful-ly. I don't want you dis-tur-bing her."

"What hap-pe-ned? Did she ha-ve anot-her one of her crazy-as-a-Bet-sy-bug spells?"

There was no use den-ying it to She-ri-dan. She'd se-en La-ura at her worst. "I plan to spe-ak to yo-ur fat-her this mor-ning abo-ut ta-king La-ura ho-me and put-ting her… pla-cing her so-mew-he-re for tre-at-ment."

"Glory hal-le-lu-j-ah. Abo-ut damn ti-me!"

Genny wa-ited out-si-de the di-la-pi-da-ted ca-bin, Dal-las at her si-de and a han-d-ful of spe-ci-al-ly cho-sen law-men sco-uring the area aro-und the ram-s-hac-k-le old ho-use for signs of any evi-den-ce. Jacob had or-de-red the in-si-de of the ca-bin off li-mits to ever-yo-ne un-til the cri-me sce-ne in-ves-ti-ga-tors went over the en-ti-re pla-ce with a fi-ne to-oth comb.

"I'm using the most qu-ali-fi-ed of Dal-las's pe-op-le and mi-ne,"Jacob had ex-p-la-ined to the de-pu-ti-es and po-li-ce-men on the sce-ne. "And if they ne-ed help, we'll con-tact Rnox-vil-le."

When Jacob fi-nis-hed anot-her pho-ne call-only one of many he'd ma-de in the past thirty mi-nu-tes-he ca-me over to Genny. "I might ha-ve mis-sed so-met-hing in the-re, but to the na-ked eye, it lo-oks as if she cle-ared out any evi-den-ce that might ha-ve lin-ked her to the sce-ne." 'The-re's al-ways so-met-hing," Dal-las sa-id. 'The prob-lem is that if our in-ves-ti-ga-tors find so-met-hing, will it be an-y-t-hing use-ful? Wit-ho-ut even one sus-pect"-Dallas pa-used mo-men-ta-rily-"or pos-sibly with too many, un-less our pe-op-le find DNA evi-den-ce that we can match-"

"That's one of the re-asons I ne-ed Genny." Jacob lo-oked to his co-usin, "/gj do, I ha-te to ask you to lo-ok in-si-de the ca-bin at Jamie's body, but you co-uld be our only ho-pe of fin-ding his kil-ler."

Whenever he wan-ted to em-p-ha-si-ze the im-por-tan-ce of what he was abo-ut to say, Jacob cal-led her sis-ter in the-ir an-ces-tors' Che-ro-kee ton-gue. "I un-der-s-tand," she told him.

"I don't want you to go in-si-de. Just go to the do-or and ta-ke a lo-ok, then let me know if you pick up on an-y-t-hing."

"I'll go with her," Dal-las sa-id, ke-eping gu-ard at her si-de.

"We'll both go with her." Jacob mo-ved to her ot-her si-de so that she was flan-ked by two lar-ge, overly pro-tec-ti-ve men who lo-ved her.

The thre-eso-me wal-ked up the ric-kety steps and ac-ross the porch. Then, using a glo-ved hand, Jacob ope-ned the do-or. He mo-ved asi-de just eno-ugh to gi-ve her a di-rect vi-ew in-to the
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sha-dowy ro-om. The na-use-atingly me-tal-lic odor of blo-od as-sa-iled her sen-ses. And no won-der.

The ro-om lo-oked as if it had be-en pa-in-ted in blo-od.

She to-ok a de-ep bre-ath and wil-led her-self to be strong as she fo-cu-sed on Jamie Up-ton's ba-rely re-cog-ni-zab-le na-ked body. Na-usea ro-se from her sto-mach and bur-ned a tra-il up her esop-ha-gus. She tur-ned and ran to the ed-ge of the porch, then vo-mi-ted vi-olently. Dal-las rus-hed to her and put his arm aro-und her trem-b-ling sho-ul-ders. He jer-ked a han-d-ker-c-hi-ef from his jac-ket and wi-ped her per-s-pi-ring fo-re-he-ad and her damp mo-uth.

"She's not go-ing to do this," Dal-las told Jacob.

Genny grab-bed Dal-las's arm. "Yes, I am. I'll be all right."

"Damn it, can't you see what's it al-re-ady do-ing to you?" Dal-las gla-red at Jacob. "Tell her she do-esn't ha-ve to do it."

"Genny, he's right," Jacob sa-id. "You don't ha-ve to-"

"Yes, I do." She jer-ked away from Dal-las's pro-tec-ti-ve hold and mar-c-hed stra-ight back to the open front do-or. "Both of you stay away from me for a few mi-nu-tes. Al-low me to con-cen-t-ra-te."

She lo-oked in-to the blo-ody ro-om, fo-cu-sed on Jamie's mu-ti-la-ted body, and let the dar-k-ness sur-ro-und her. Thick, he-avy dar-k-ness. Fil-led with an-ger. So much an-ger.

The mo-ment Genny stag-ge-red, she felt strong arms hol-ding her and knew that des-pi-te the dark evil en-com-pas-sing her spi-rit, she was sa-fe. Sa-fe be-ca-use Dal-las wo-uld bring her back be-fo-re she went in too de-ep.

Insane ra-ge! The wo-man who had tor-tu-red Jamie had ta-ken per-ver-se ple-asu-re in pu-nis-hing him. She had wan-ted him to suf-fer as she had suf-fe-red, as ot-hers had suf-fe-red at his hands. Had she kil-led Jamie for re-ven-ge? Per-haps, but Genny got a sen-se of so-met-hing as strong, per-haps even stron-ger than re-ven-ge. In the wo-man's sick mind, she had kil-led Jamie to pro-tect so-me-one.

Her-self? Or so-me-one she lo-ved?

Concentrate on this wo-man
, Genny told her-self.
Can you see her? See her body? Her fa-ce?

Even a sha-dowy ima-ge?

The dar-k-ness swir-led fas-ter and fas-ter, suc-king Genny de-eper in-to a me-tap-h-y-si-cal re-alm. Evil. Tor-men-ted.
Do not be frig-h-te-ned away
, Genny told her-self.
Se-ek de-eper. Lo-ok
be-yond the ve-il and re-ach for the truth.

Flashes of a hu-man form dan-ced thro-ugh Genny's mind. A fe-ma-le form. Na-ked. Bat-hing her-self in co-ol wa-ter, rin-sing away the bright scar-let blo-od. It drip-ped from her fin-gers, ran in ri-vu-lets down her back and but-tocks. The ima-ge was va-gue, un-c-le-ar, un-re-cog-ni-zab-le.

Ex-cept her short, stylish red ha-ir.

Jazzy's ha-ir!

Genny gas-ped. Her eye-lids shot open. She grab-bed Dal-las's arm and held on tight. Unab-le to spe-ak, she mo-aned, re-fu-sing to be-li-eve what she'd se-en.
It wasn't Jaz-zy
, she told her-self.
It was
a wo-man who had ha-ir the sa-me style and co-lor as Jaz-zy's
.

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"Genny, ho-ney, what's wrong?" Dal-las ca-res-sed her fa-ce.

She sho-ved his hand asi-de and clo-sed her eyes aga-in.
Go back and ta-ke anot-her lo-ok. Find
the wo-man aga-in. Pro-ve to yo-ur-self that it wasn 't Jaz-zy.

"Genny, for he-aven's sa-ke, what do you think you're do-ing?" Dal-las de-man-ded. "Co-me out of it. Don't-"

"Let her go," Jacob told him. "I've se-en this be-fo-re. She ne-eds to go back be-ca-use so-met-hing she saw dis-tur-bed her."

That's right, Jacob, so-ot-he Dal-las
.
Ma-ke him un-der-s-tand
. Genny eased slow-ly-ca-re-ful-ly-in-to that mystic re-alm, go-ing just de-ep eno-ugh to con-nect on-ce aga-in with the wo-man's ima-ge.

Short red ha-ir mus-sed by the mor-ning bre-eze. The wind whip-ping aro-und and abo-ut her as she tra-ve-led at high spe-ed. Try as she might, Genny co-uld not see die wo-man's fa-ce-only her ha-ir, only a sha-dowy out-li-ne of her body. And then cle-arly, dis-tinctly, she saw the car the wo-man was dri-ving. A small, sle-ek gre-en sports car with a tan in-te-ri-or.

Genny gas-ped for air as she bro-ught her-self back to the pre-sent mo-ment. "De-fi-ni-tely a wo-man. I saw her was-hing away Jamie's blo-od. I co-uldn't see her fa-ce, co-uldn't ma-ke out who she was or if I knew her. She had red ha-ir." Genny ope-ned her eyes and lo-oked first at Dal-las and then at Jacob. "I think she was we-aring a wig so that her ha-ir was iden-ti-cal to Jaz-zy's. Whi-le she sho-we-red, she was al-so was-hing the blo-od from her ha-ir… from the wig."

"Are you sa-ying this wo-man was trying to pass her-self off as Jaz-zy?" Jacob as-ked.

"No, I don't think so. I don't know. All I co-uld ma-ke out was her ha-ir. I sen-sed she wasn't re-al-ly pre-ten-ding to be Jaz-zy. May-be she just wan-ted an-yo-ne who saw her at a dis-tan-ce to think she was Jaz-zy." Jacob frow-ned. "Anything el-se?" Jacob's in-qu-iry se-emed odd to Genny; she pic-ked up so-me pe-cu-li-ar vi-bes from her co-usin. "Yes, I saw the car she was dri-ving."

"And?" Jacob ca-me clo-ser, his eyes nar-ro-wing as he ap-pro-ac-hed her.

"It was a small, gre-en sports car. So-met-hing new and sle-ek. The in-te-ri-or was tan. And the-re was so-met-hing wrong with the car."

"What?" Jacob and Dal-las as-ked si-mul-ta-ne-o-usly.

"The dri-ver's si-de ap-pe-ared to be da-ma-ged. And the glass sur-ro-un-ding the front he-ad-light on that si-de was bro-ken out."