Reve smiled and nodded and replied with yes or no to anything the others asked, but she focused on the room itself. She had noted earlier today that Genny Madoc’s home was filled with antiques. Every room she had seen evoked images of a bygone era. Some of the furniture was museum quality and would sell for a small fortune. When she inquired about the age of the farmhouse itself this afternoon, Genny had told her that it was well over a hundred years old, built by her great-grandfather, and had replaced an old log cabin constructed by a distant ancestor in the nineteenth century.
A glowing fire shimmered in the large fireplace, the blaze reflected in the glass chimneys of the two oil lamps flanking the sofa. The old, wide plank flooring glistened from the patina of numerous waxings and the wood-paneled, wainscoted walls gleamed with the richness of aged pine. This room—this entire house—expressed a quality and charm no interior decorator could ever reproduce. It possessed warmth and comfort, proclaiming the character of the people who lived here and the generations who had come before. This structure was a home, not merely a house.
Suddenly Reve felt terribly alone, more so than she’d ever felt in her parents’ elegant Lookout Mountain mansion, now that she was the sole occupant. And when she heard Jazzy and Caleb laughing at something Dallas had said, she envied how comfortable they were around one another. Friends who had no hidden agendas. Friends who simply enjoyed being together.
And as if she wasn’t feeling bad enough at that particular moment, she felt even worse when she saw Jacob following Genny into the living room. Reve groaned. She had hoped he’d already left. Apparently not. Genny must have persuaded him to stay, despite his rush to leave. It had been embarrassingly obvious to everyone that she—the outsider—was the reason he hadn’t wanted to stay for a visit with family and friends.
Genny smiled at Reve as she joined the others, but Jacob avoided looking at her as he made his way across the room to stand near the fireplace. Noting the sullen expression on his face, she surmised that he didn’t want to be in her company anymore than she wanted to be in his. So why was Genny forcing the issue? Why hadn’t she let him leave when he’d wanted to go?
“Dallas, help me get the wine,” Genny said.
Her husband followed her to the large cupboard on the far side of the room. Genny opened the double glass doors and removed six wine glasses. Austrian crystal, unless Reve missed her guess. Dallas lifted a glass jug, removed the cork and poured the homemade wine into the glasses, then picked up two and brought one to her and handed Jazzy the other.
Once everyone had a glass, Dallas lifted his and said, “Here’s to Jazzy and Caleb. May their upcoming marriage bring them as much happiness as Genny and I have found in ours.”
“I’ll definitely drink to that,” Caleb said.
“That was very sweet, Dallas,” Jazzy told him. “Thank you.”
When everyone else took a sip of the wine, Reve did, too, and discovered it wasn’t half bad. Nothing to compare to a truly excellent vintage, but nevertheless definitely palatable.
“So, what do you think of Ludie’s wine?” Dallas asked.
Reve found herself glancing toward Jacob, expecting him to make some acrid remark. And at that exact moment, he looked right at her. Their gazes locked and held. No one said a word. Silence hung heavily over the room. Reve’s heartbeat accelerated maddeningly.
“It’s quite good,” she finally managed to reply and sensed that everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
“You met Ludie, didn’t you?” Jazzy asked. “She was the old Cherokee woman who was with Aunt Sally that first day you came to Cherokee Pointe.”
“Yes, I met her,” Reve said. “She’s the woman who makes those delicious desserts for your restaurant, isn’t she?”
“That’s Ludie. But she’s also Aunt Sally’s best friend and just like family to me.”
Did that mean, if she and Jazzy were sisters, that she’d be expected to consider both Sally Talbot and Ludie as family? For the life of her, she couldn’t see herself embracing a nutty old mountain woman who chewed tobacco and her Indian friend as family.
Watch out, Reve, your snobbery is showing again.
During the next hour, Jacob gradually joined the others in conversation and appeared more relaxed, but he didn’t speak directly to Reve nor did he ever look right at her again. She tried her best to be friendly, but she realized she was carefully watching everything she said, not wanting to offend anyone, not even Jacob. Unable to fully participate in the camaraderie, she withdrew more and more, a well-learned defense mechanism that she had relied on all her life. In her world, she was respected and deferred to by others, only occasionally running into people who weren’t impressed by her wealth and social standing. But as a child, she’d often felt out of place, the odd girl out, with her peers. In those instances, she had retreated into the safety of stubborn shyness.
Jazzy sat on the sofa, Caleb beside her, his arm resting across the sofa back behind Jazzy’s head. Genny sat on a round leather ottoman near the fireplace, and Jacob stood behind her, while each took a turn recounting his or her particular take on an event from their shared childhoods.
“You should have seen Granny’s face,” Genny said.
“Yeah, it was all she could do not to laugh, but she told us, in no uncertain terms, that young ladies didn’t run around naked, not even in the summertime.” Jazzy looked up at Jacob.
“And it was all your fault that we got in trouble because you told on us.”
“I swear I didn’t tell her that you two eight-year-olds were skinny-dipping in the pond in front of half a dozen other kids. It must have been somebody else. Maybe one of the Winstead boys.” The twinkle in Jacob’s eyes revealed the uselessness of trying to defend himself from a crime of which he was obviously guilty.
“Yeah, tell that to somebody who’ll believe you,” Jazzy said. “Neither Aaron nor Miles Winstead would have told on us. Aaron was sweet on me, and Miles would have walked over hot coals for Genny.”
“Especially after he saw her naked as a jaybird,” Jacob said, then roared with laughter.
“What did your grandmother do?” Caleb asked Genny, once the boisterous laughter died down.
“She gave me a spanking, made Jazzy and me put on our clothes and then she marched Jazzy home, with me in tow, and told Miss Sally what had happened.”
“And then I got my butt blistered.” Jazzy laughed.
Dallas came over to where Reve stood by the windows, in the same room and yet separate from the others. “Those three grew up together. They’re like siblings who share the same memories. It took me a while to begin to fit in, to feel as if I were a part of that golden circle. And Caleb only recently joined the ranks.” Dallas spoke quietly so that their conversation remained private.
Reve nodded, not sure what message Dallas was trying to convey.
“Give yourself time and you’ll fit in. You’ll become one of us,” he told her. “If you want to be a part of that closeness, that sense of belonging to a special family, you can be.”
Reve wanted to tell him that she had no desire to be a part of Jazzy’s extended family, that she could care less about fitting in, in fact she abhorred the idea of being one of these people. But the denial died on her lips. Partly because the comments would have offended, but mostly because she realized her denial wasn’t true. Somewhere deep down inside her lonely soul, she envied them all and wanted what Genny had with Dallas and Jazzy had with Caleb.
“I suppose you believe, as Genny does, that Jazzy and I are twins.”
“If my wife says she knows it for a fact, then it’s a fact,” Dallas said with utter conviction. “You and Jazzy are twins. You’re family. And if you’re Jazzy’s family, then you’re Genny’s, too.” He paused, glanced lovingly at his wife and then looked back at Reve. “They’re not keeping you out, you know. Jazzy and Genny will welcome you with open arms. All you have to do is reach out to them.”
“And what about Jacob?” Reve whispered. “He really doesn’t like me.” Now why had she said that to Dallas? He’d think she gave a damn about what Jacob Butler thought. And she didn’t!
“Genny says she’s never seen Jacob take an instant dislike to anybody the way he has you.” When Reve gazed at him in disbelief, surprised by his honesty, Dallas laughed softly. “And she also said that you’re the first woman she’s ever known who didn’t swoon at Jacob’s feet.”
The corners of Reve’s mouth twitched, and finally she smiled.
“Give yourself time to get to know him, and I think you’ll discover that Jacob is a good man,” Dallas said. “Actually, he’s one of the finest men I’ve ever known.”
“Really?”
Before Reve had a chance to completely digest Dallas’s high praise of the sheriff, Jazzy and Caleb stood up and each hugged Genny in turn, then Jazzy hugged Jacob.
“We’ve got to be going. It’s nearly eight-thirty and we need to get to Jazzy’s Joint by nine, before things get rowdy.” Caleb glanced over at Reve. “We can drop you off at your cabin on the way, if you’re ready to go.”
Reve started to say that she was more than ready to leave, when Genny spoke up hurriedly, “You two go on to work. Reve can stay and visit a while longer. Jacob would be glad to drop her off when he goes back to town later.”
Genny’s statement created a unanimous silent gasp.
“Why in heaven’s name would you—” Jazzy said, only to be interrupted by Jacob himself.
“Yeah, sure, if Ms. Sorrell wants to stay for a while longer, I’ll give her a ride back into town.” Avoiding making eye contact with Reve, he downed the last drops of the wine he’d been nursing all evening.
Jazzy looked at Genny, who smiled as she gazed steadily at her friend. Suddenly Jazzy’s face lit up as if she’d just figured out an intricate puzzle.
“That’s mighty nice of you,” Jazzy said, a sly smile on her face. Apparently she and Genny shared some cute little secret that the rest of them weren’t privy to.
“I’d rather go on now, if you don’t mind.” Reve looked pleadingly at Jazzy, not sure what was going on, but not wanting to be a part of anything that put her in Jacob’s company any longer than necessary.
“Of course we won’t force you to stay, but I’d really like it if you would spend some more time getting to know us…Dallas and me and Jacob,” Genny said. “I’d like for us to be friends.”
Reve sighed. She felt Jacob’s gaze on her, and when she looked at him, she sensed that he was issuing her a challenge. He thought she didn’t have the guts to let him drive her home later. Did he actually believe she was afraid of him? Well, she’d prove him wrong. She’d show him.
“All right,” Reve agreed. “It would be unmannerly of me to decline such a generous offer of friendship.”
Lesley Sorrell had drilled good manners into Reve from the time she was a small child. Under most circumstances she easily played the part of a modern, wealthy, cultured, genteel southern belle. Occasionally her strong-willed character and her stubbornness injected themselves into situations, especially when she was confronted by the likes of Sheriff Butler.
Jazzy came over to Reve, acting as if she intended to hug her. Reve stepped back to avoid physical contact. Jazzy offered her an understanding smile. “We’ll pick you up tomorrow for dinner with Miss Reba and Big Jim. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Yes, do that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
While Genny and Dallas saw their guests out, Jacob moved in on Reve. Every nerve in her body screamed, every muscle froze. He came up beside her and paused.
“If you’ll play nice, I’ll play nice,” he said. “Genny likes you. For the life of me, I don’t know why, but she does. And she’s given me strict orders to be on my best behavior around you.”
“For Genny’s sake, I’m willing to call a truce. At least for tonight.”
She glanced up at him. He shook his head.
“What?” she asked.
“Just thinking about Fate.”
“What about Fate?”
“It plays odd tricks on us sometimes. Like you and Jazzy for instance. Twins separated at birth, raised in two different worlds and now here y’all are on the verge of turning each other’s lives upside down.”
Reve glowered at him. “Explain something to me, will you?”
He nodded. “Sure. If I can.”
“How is it that, considering Jazzy and I are probably identical twins, you react in a totally different way to the two of us although we look a great deal alike? I’d think that considering she’s your friend, you’d have viewed me in a more favorable light when we first met. But you disliked me instantly.”
“That’s a damn good question. And when I figure out the answer, Ms. Sorrell, you’ll be the first to know.”
Dallas held Genny in his arms as they sat alone in front of the living room fireplace, the soft tapping of raindrops on the old metal roof soothing them like a lullaby. He loved moments such as this, just Genny and him. And Drudwyn asleep on the floor. If a year ago somebody had told him that he’d not only be content being a small town sheriff, but that he’d marry a psychic and live a simple life with her in the Tennessee hills, he’d have told them they were crazy. But he would have been wrong. He’d never been as happy or content as he was here with Genny. His wife. His life.
“Do you think I might have pushed too hard?” Genny asked. “I suppose I shouldn’t have insisted that Reve stay and that Jacob take her home. I don’t know who looked the most miserable when they left here, him or her.”
“I’d say it was even-Steven.”
“They’re not always going to despise each other.” Genny maneuvered herself around so that she could keep her head resting on his shoulder and look up at him at the same time. “But maybe I should just let nature take its course.”
“What are you talking about?” Sometimes Genny spoke in riddles. And sometimes he instinctively figured out those riddles. But other times, like now, she was a complete puzzle to him. He tried to see into her mind, but couldn’t. Had she shut him out or was he just not concentrating hard enough? The latter, he suspected.
“I’m not the only one who sees it,” Genny said. “Jazzy picked up on it, too. I don’t understand why you didn’t.”
“I’m lost, honey. What is it that I don’t understand?”
“That Reve is the woman for Jacob.”
“What?”
“Goodness, Dallas, a person doesn’t have to be psychic to pick up on the sexual tension between them. It’s so strong it practically has a life of its own.”
Dallas laughed, but stopped immediately when he noted the frown on Genny’s face.
“Sorry, but all I picked up on between those two was pure, unadulterated hatred.”
Genny jerked away from him, crossed her arms over her chest and shot him a disappointed glare. “Okay, so maybe you do have to be psychic—or a woman—to see what’s right under your nose. I’m telling you that I know”—she laid her hand over her heart—“Reve and Jacob are meant for each other.”
Dallas grasped her hands and tugged on them, toppling her over and into his lap. He nuzzled her ear. “If you say they’re meant for each other, then they’re meant for each other. I trust your instincts without any doubts.”
She draped her arm around his neck. “Why don’t we go to bed?” She kissed him.
Dallas’s body hardened instantly. He stood, Genny in his arms, and walked out of the living room, up the stairs and straight to their bedroom. His last thought before he concentrated fully on making love to his wife was that he hoped Reve and Jacob didn’t kill each other before they discovered they were destined to be lovers.
The rain had slacked off by the time Jacob pulled his Dodge Ram to a halt in front of Reve’s rental cabin. On the ride down the mountain, they had managed to remain civil, even without Genny’s presence as a deterrent. Of course, neither of them had said more than ten words. He’d turned on the radio for a while, but as soon as he realized she didn’t like his taste in music, he’d turned it off. The silence between them had been more deafening than a rock concert. He couldn’t ever remember feeling so damn uncomfortable.
When he opened the driver’s door, Reve said, “You needn’t bother to get out.”
Disregarding her statement, he got out, pulled an umbrella from the back and opened it. Holding the bright orange and white UT umbrella over his head, he rounded the hood and opened the passenger door for her. When he offered her his hand, she stared at it as if it was contaminated with leprosy. Reluctantly, as if she knew he had offered her his hand more as a dare than as a gentlemanly gesture, she put her hand in his and allowed him to help her out of the truck.
Once on the ground beside him, she looked him square in the eye and said, “Are you going to walk me to my door or are we going to stand here holding hands all night?”
If she thought that would make him drop her hand like a hot potato, she had another thought coming. He held her hand a little tighter.
“I’ll walk you to your door.” Keeping the umbrella over them to block the slow drizzle, he urged her into movement. “But don’t expect a good-night kiss. Not on a first date.”
She cut her eyes upward and gave him a sidelong glance.
“I wouldn’t want you to think I’m easy,” he said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Maybe the best offense was a good defense, he thought. Taking her off guard with a little humor might work. After all, he had promised Genny that he’d be nice to Reve, hadn’t he?
“I doubt you give a damn what I think of you,” she said in a very pleasant voice.
When they reached the cabin door, he took the key she held and unlocked the door, then handed the key back to her. “Good night, Ms. Sorrell. Spending an evening with you has been an experience I wouldn’t care to repeat anytime soon.”
“For once, Sheriff Butler, we’re in total agreement.” Her smile was as phony as her sweet tone of voice.
He turned and walked away, but when he reached his truck, he glanced back and found her standing on the doorstep watching him. He waved. She waved.
“And one more thing, just to set the record straight,” he said. “You’re right, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think of me.”
Laughing, she shot him a bird, letting him know she felt the same, then turned around, went inside her rental cabin and closed the door.
Jacob chuckled. Damn infuriating woman! He closed the umbrella, tossed it in the back, then hopped up into the cab of his truck. Just as he shut the door, a call came in over the radio.
“Jacob,” Tewanda Hardy said. “We’ve got a homicide on Clinton Road. Moody and Bobby Joe are on their way there now.”
“Give me the exact address.”
“Two-oh-nine Clinton. It’s a rental house.”
“Do we know the victim’s identity?”
“Jeremy Timmons.”
Jacob groaned. Ever since he’d taken office, Jacob had been trying to acquire enough evidence against Timmons, the slimy little bastard, to arrest him. The guy was a pimp who oversaw a stable of five or six working girls, but he’d managed to stay one step ahead of the law. Jacob wasn’t surprised that somebody had killed the son of a bitch.
“Who called it in?” Jacob asked.
“A girl named Amber Chaney.”
“Have you contacted—”
“The coroner and forensics? Yeah, Pete’s on his way. And Burt said he’d go by and pick up Dewayne.”
Jacob started the engine, shifted into reverse and backed up, then headed out of town. Just when he’d thought his bad night was over, it had taken a turn for the worse. During his short term in office, there had already been too many murders in Cherokee County. The last thing he or his county needed was another one. Even if Timmons had deserved killing, and he probably had, it was still the sheriff’s job to find the murderer and bring him or her to justice. Jacob’s guess was that one of Timmons’s “girls” had whacked him.
He laid her limp body on the edge of the bed, spread apart her legs and touched her intimately. Desire consumed him, urged him on, forced him to do the unthinkable. He unzipped his pants, freed his penis and rammed himself into the girl.
Pure evil. Black hatred. Passion and anger. A need for sexual gratification and a hunger for power.
He took her with brutal pleasure, coming quickly. But sexual release alone could not satisfy him.
Suddenly he undid the braided black satin ribbon around the girl’s smooth neck. In a frenzy of excitement and unparalleled power, he grasped the ribbon and tightened it around her throat. She didn’t struggle, couldn’t struggle. Within minutes, she stopped breathing.
Genny Madoc screamed.
Dallas came instantly awake, flipped on the bedside lamp and turned to his wife. She lay beside him, thrashing back and forth, her screams tapering off to gasps and sobs. Gently, he slipped his arms around her and lifted her up and into his embrace. While she trembled and wept, he stroked her back lovingly.
Although her mind and spirit were still halfway submerged in the obsidian depths of a precognitive experience, Genny felt Dallas holding her, soothing her. And she sensed his love and concern.
“Slow and easy,” Dallas said. “Come back to me, but don’t try to rush it. Take your time.”
Forcing the dark shadows from her mind, she inched her way steadily back into the realm of reality. Finally she managed to speak. “He strangled her.”
“You witnessed a murder?” Dallas asked.
She nodded. “But I don’t think it’s happened yet.”
“Did you see his face? Did you recognize the victim?”
“No, I didn’t see his face. Only a hazy glimpse of his hands and his…his penis.”
“What?” Dallas grasped her shoulders.
“He raped her and then killed her. He enjoyed killing her. It gave him more pleasure than the sex.”
Dallas swallowed hard.
“The victim is young and pretty and has curly red hair. I didn’t recognize her. I got only a glimpse of her face.”
“I’ll call Jacob and we’ll see if we can stop this murder before it happens. Did you pick up on anything that might help us locate this girl?”
Genny shook her head. “Not really. They were inside, not outside. He laid her on a bed. And—and he choked her to death with a braided black ribbon.”
“Will you be okay while I contact Jacob?”
She gave him a gentle shove. “Call him and then fix me some chamomile tea.”
Dallas rolled out of bed, dragged on his discarded jeans and reached out for the bedside phone.
Jacob answered on the fifth ring. “Butler here.”
“Jacob, it’s Dallas. Genny has seen another murder. She believes it hasn’t happened yet, so—”
“It has. I’m on the scene now. Pete’s examining the body. Please tell me that Genny saw the killer.”
“Nope, sorry. She did see the victim however, but didn’t recognize her.”
“Did you say her?”
“Yeah, why?”
“This victim is a man,” Jacob said. “Jeremy Timmons. Looks like somebody strangled him.”
“Genny saw a young woman being strangled with a black braided ribbon. She had curly red hair.” The wheels in Dallas’s mind turned at breakneck speed, resulting in an educated guess. “What do you want to bet that the woman Genny saw murdered is one of Timmons’s girls, that their murders are connected?”
“Could be. But there might not be a connection between this murder and the murder Genny saw in her vision.”
“Maybe you should find out if one of Timmons’s girls has red curly hair.”
“I’ll do my best to find out, but the odds are against us. The girl—Amber Chaney—who found Timmons’s body isn’t likely to give me the names and addresses of her colleagues.”
“If I’m right, then finding this girl right away might be the only way to save her life. Tell that to Amber Chaney.”