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Authors: Beverly Barton

The Last to Die (46 page)

BOOK: The Last to Die
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Tonight she'd be-en wi-de awa-ke. They'd be-en re-mo-ving items from the dis-h-was-her and pla-cing them in the ap-prop-ri-ate cup-bo-ards and dra-wers be-fo-re tur-ning in for the night They had be-en tal-king and she'd just ma-de a com-ment to which he had rep-li-ed. When she didn't res-pond, he'd lo-oked at her and re-ali-zed she was fa-ding away, le-aving him.

"Genny?" He gras-ped her arm and sho-ok her gently.

The ce-ra-mic dish she held slip-ped from her hand and cras-hed on-to the flo-or. Dal-las sho-ok her aga-in. No res-pon-se. Damn, he ha-ted it when this hap-pe-ned. Ha-ted it be-ca-use it sca-red him just a lit-tle. Ad-mit it, Slo-an, so-me-ti-mes it sca-res the be-j-esus out of you. Even now, af-ter months of kno-wing and lo-ving Genny, of day by day be-co-ming mo-re and mo-re te-le-pat-hi-cal-ly lin-ked with her, he still felt over-w-hel-med by her psychic abi-li-ti-es.

Suddenly he knew, wit-ho-ut a word be-ing spo-ken and a split se-cond be-fo-re it hap-pe-ned, that Genny ne-eded him to catch her be-fo-re she fell. As she swa-yed un-s-te-adily on her fe-et, he
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re-ac-hed out and grab-bed her, men lif-ted her up in-to his arms. Using his fo-ot, he slid one of the kit-c-hen cha-irs away from the tab-le, then sat down with Genny in his lap. Hol-ding her ri-gid body se-cu-rely, pro-tec-ting her with every oun-ce of his strength, he spo-ke to her in-si-de his mind, ho-ping he co-uld re-ach her and gi-ve her his sup-port. He'd fo-und that if he co-uld link with her whi-le she was in that ot-her world, she was ab-le to draw po-wer from him so that when she ca-me out of her tran-ce-li-ke sta-te, she wasn't qu-ite as physi-cal-ly we-ak and emo-ti-onal-ly vul-ne-rab-le as she ot-her-wi-se wo-uld ha-ve be-en.

Stay with me, Dal-las
, Genny ple-aded te-le-pat-hi-cal-ly.
It's bad. Re-al-ly bad
. Oh, God… oh God. ''Jaz-zy.''

"What is it Genny?" he sa-id alo-ud. "What are you se-e-ing? Is so-met-hing wrong with Jaz-zy?"

Silence.

I
can't lo-se the con-nec-ti-on,
Dal-las told himself.
I ha-ve to stay fo-cu-sed on Genny, on hel-ping
her.

For what se-emed li-ke an eter-nity, he co-uldn't sen-se what she was ex-pe-ri-en-cing and it ma-de him won-der if so-met-hing or so-me-one had se-ve-red the link bet-we-en •hem. Then, with a ti-dal wa-ve of sen-sa-ti-on, she to-uc-hed him, to-uc-hed his mind and drew him clo-ser and clo-ser. He held her tig-h-ter and shut his eyes. Dar-k-ness. Ut-ter and com-p-le-te blac-k-ness.

Hang on to me
, she told him.
Ke-ep cal-ling my na-me so that I can find my way back to you.

Dallas saw not-hing. He he-ard and felt only Genny. She was all aro-und him and in-si-de him, a part of him. Her body trem-b-led in-vo-lun-ta-rily, then she be-gan mo-aning. When she thras-hed abo-ut in his arms, he trap-ped her in his em-b-ra-ce, co-co-oning her. Her mo-aning tur-ned to sharp, high-pit-c-hed ke-ens. And then she dis-sol-ved li-ke ice in the snow-slowly, lan-gu-id-ly-her body go-ing limp and her mo-uth si-lent.

He held her all the tig-h-ter, po-ured all his men-tal and emo-ti-onal strength in-to her, qu-ite cer-ta-in what wo-uld hap-pen next. Genny's eye-lids flew open and her black eyes sta-red sig-h-des-sly off in-to spa-ce. A mil-li-se-cond la-ter, she ope-ned her mo-uth and scre-amed.

"It's all right, swe-et-he-art," he told her. "You've co-me back to me. You're he-re in my arms."

She tur-ned her he-ad and lo-oked at him. "Oh, Dal-las, we ha-ve to find Jaz-zy be-fo-re it's too la-te." 'Tell me ever-y-t-hing."

"She-she… the wo-man who kil-led Jamie is go-ing to kill Jaz-zy. She shot Jaz-zy. I co-uld see Jaz-zy clut-c-hing her sto-mach, her hands co-ve-red with blo-od. And this wo-man was drag-ging Jaz-zy down an al-ley."

"Is this hap-pe-ning now?" he as-ked.

Genny sho-ok her he-ad. "I think it's al-re-ady hap-pe-ned. I think this wo-man has ta-ken Jaz-zy so-mew-he-re to kill her."

"Do you ha-ve any idea whe-re?"

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"No. Not yet. But…"

"But what?"

"I'm go-ing to try lin-king with Jaz-zy. We ha-ven't do-ne that in ye-ars, not sin-ce we we-re kids."

Genny gras-ped the front of Dal-las's shirt. "And Jaz-zy was ne-ver… ne-ver-" Te-ars glis-te-ned in Genny's eyes, li-ke stars in the black night sky. "She was ne-ver very go-od at it, at lin-king with me.''

"I'll call Jacob and we'll form a se-arch party."

"How co-uld this hap-pen? Ca-leb was sup-po-sed to be with her. And I didn't fe-el his pre-sen-ce an-y-w-he-re ne-ar Jaz-zy. All I felt was Jaz-zy's pa-in and fe-ar." Te-ars tra-iled down her che-eks.

"She felt alo-ne. So alo-ne."

Dallas kis-sed the top of Genny's he-ad, lo-ving her be-yond all re-ason, wan-ting des-pe-ra-tely to com-fort and re-as-su-re her. "We'll find Jaz-zy. I swe-ar we'll find her be-fo-re…"

He sho-uldn't be ma-king prot-hi-ses to Genny that he wasn't a hun-d-red per-cent su-re he co-uld ke-ep. But damn it all, if Jaz-zy di-ed, it wo-uld des-t-roy Genny. And he co-ul-dn't-wo-ul-dn't-let that hap-pen.

When she re-ga-ined con-s-ci-o-us-ness, Jaz-zy re-ali-zed she must ha-ve pas-sed out so-me-ti-me bet-we-en when the crazy bitch for-ced her in-to a car and when she wo-ke in-si-de this ca-bin. Jaz-zy glan-ced aro-und in the se-mi-dark ro-om and re-ali-zed she was in-de-ed in-si-de a Che-ro-kee Ca-bin Ren-tals. And she was lying on the so-fa. When she tri-ed to mo-ve, pa-in rip-ped thro-ugh her body, ra-di-ating from her sto-mach and out-ward. Oh, God, now she re-mem-be-red. She'd be-en shot. That wild-eyed wo-man who lo-oked va-gu-ely fa-mi-li-ar had shot her. Jaz-zy tri-ed to fe-el her wo-und, and sud-denly re-ali-zed she co-uldn't mo-ve her hands. Damn it, her hands we-re ti-ed be-hind her. She hi-ed to lift her legs and co-uldn't. Her fe-et we-re bo-und to-get-her. Not go-od. Ac-tu-al-ly bad. Very bad.

Jazzy glan-ced aro-und the ro-om, se-ar-c-hing for the wo-man. That's when she saw the na-ked man lying on the flo-or, spre-ad-eag-led, his hands and fe-et ti-ed to so-me sort of me-tal spi-kes in the flo-or.

Holy shit!

When she ma-na-ged to roll over just eno-ugh to get a bet-ter lo-ok, she re-cog-ni-zed the man.

Ce-cil Wil-lis. The crazy bitch had not only kid-nap-ped her, but La-ura's fat-her, too.

"Please, why are you do-ing this?" a soft, qu-ive-ring vo-ice as-ked.

Who sa-id that? Jaz-zy won-de-red. From whe-re she was trap-ped on the so-fa, she co-uldn't see the en-ti-re ro-om, only the ex-pan-se of flo-or whe-re Ce-cil Wil-lis lay spre-ad out li-ke a sac-ri-fi-ce to so-me an-ci-ent god.

"Oh, La-ura, my swe-et baby girl," the crazy bitch sa-id. "You must know that ever-y-t-hing I've
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do-ne, ever-y-t-hing I will do, is for you. To pro-tect you."

"I-I don't un-der-s-tand," La-ura sa-id.

Jazzy clo-sed her eyes and ut-te-red a si-lent pra-yer, ple-ading with God for help. This nut-ca-se had kid-nap-ped La-ura, too. But why? / don't un-der-s-tand any of this. Okay, so may-be she wasn't thin-king stra-ight. May-be a com-bi-na-ti-on of the li-qu-or she'd con-su-med and the pa-in and loss of blo-od from the gun-s-hot wo-und had ma-de her de-li-ri-o-us. May-be she was hal-lu-ci-na-ting.

May-be Ce-cil Wil-lis wasn't re-al-ly ma-nac-led to the flo-or, buck na-ked and gag-ged. And may-be La-ura wasn't re-al-ly he-re.

A sha-dow pas-sed by the so-fa. Jaz-zy clo-sed her eyes and pre-ten-ded to still be un-con-s-ci-o-us.

"I think yo-ur fat-her sho-uld ex-p-la-in to you who I am and why I ca-re so much abo-ut yo-ur hap-pi-ness," the wo-man sa-id.

Jazzy eased one eye open. When she saw that the wo-man had her back to her, Jaz-zy ope-ned her ot-her eye. The wo-man's ha-ir was blond. Jaz-zy tri-ed to put the fa-ce she'd se-en in sha-dows in the al-ley be-hind Jaz-zy's Jo-int with blond ha-ir. Think. Try to re-mem-ber whe-re you've se-en her be-fo-re.

As Jaz-zy wat-c-hed, hel-p-less to do an-y-t-hing el-se, she saw the wo-man drag an un-bo-und La-ura Wil-lis with her to-ward the pi-ti-ful man lying on the flo-or. When the wo-man re-le-ased La-ura's hand and drop-ped to her kne-es alon-g-si-de Ce-cil Wil-lis, La-ura sto-od the-re shi-ve-ring and whim-pe-ring.

Run, you damn fo-ol, run. Get away now, whi-le you've got the chan-ce, jaz-zy scre-amed si-lently.

What the hell was wrong with La-ura? Didn't she un-der-s-tand this might be the-ir only chan-ce to sur-vi-ve?

The wo-man re-mo-ved the gag from Ce-cil's mo-uth, let-ting the cloth rag nes-t-le aro-und his thro-at. Smi-ling cru-el-ly, she ca-res-sed his che-ek. "Tell her who I am."

With ter-ror in his eyes, he lo-oked up at his da-ug-h-ter. "This is Mar-ga-ret. My-my first wi-fe."

She stro-ked his che-ek aga-in. That's a go-od boy. Now tell her why I lo-ve her and why I've co-me for her."

"Laura, dar-ling…" Ce-cil lo-oked ple-adingly at his da-ug-h-ter.

The wo-man kic-ked him in the ribs. Hard. He gro-aned in pa-in.

"Daddy!"

When La-ura star-ted to go to her fat-her, the wo-man flung a res-t-ra-ining arm out in front of her.

'Tell her, Ce-cil." She whir-led aro-und and ca-ught Jaz-zy sta-ring at her. "Or had you rat-her yo-ur who-re tell our da-ug-h-ter the truth-that she se-du-ced you, that she to-ok you away from me, that she sto-le my baby!"

"Margaret, ple-ase-"

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She kic-ked Ce-cil aga-in to si-len-ce him. Lady, you're fuc-king nuts," Jaz-zy sa-id. "I told you be-fo-re that I've ne-ver se-du-ced a mar-ri-ed man"-least of all Ce-cil Wil-lis-"and I've ne-ver sto-len a baby. Cer-ta-inly not yo-urs."

"Lying who-re!" She pro-pel-led her-self ac-ross the ro-om in a flash and slap-ped Jaz-zy so-undly.

"He was my hus-band. Mi-ne! And La-ura was mi-ne, too. My baby."

"Margaret, for pity's sa-ke," Ce-cil cal-led. ''This wo-man didn't ta-ke La-ura away from you. Lo-ok at her. She's only a few ye-ars ol-der than La-ura. You've con-fu-sed her with- Ce-cil gul-ped. "Ple-ase, let La-ura and Jaz-zy go. Do wha-te-ver you want to me, but don't hurt La-ura."

The wo-man lo-oked at Jaz-zy and smi-led. A cold shi-ver shoc-ked Jaz-zy's body as she sud-denly re-ali-zed who this wo-man was. She was the small blon-de wo-man who had eaten din-ner at Jas-mi-ne's of-ten du-ring the past month or so. What was her na-me? Not Mar-ga-ret. No, but so-met-hing si-mi-lar. Mar-gie. Ma-rj. Mar-go! Mar-go Ken-ley!

"Margo, I'm Jaz-zy Tal-bot. Don't you re-mem-ber me? You've eaten at my res-ta-urant se-ve-ral ti-mes. I'm not the per-son who sto-le yo-ur baby." Jaz-zy lo-oked to La-ura for help. Snap out of it, girl, and do so-met-hing-an-y-t-hing. And do it now.

"I know who you are. You're the slut that Jamie Up-ton co-uldn't le-ave alo-ne," Mar-go/Mar-ga-ret sa-id. "I had to kill him, to pu-nish him for hur-ting my baby." 'You-you kil-led Jamie?" La-ura's blue eyes wi-de-ned in shock, as if she'd only now re-ali-zed that this wo-man was a de-adly vi-per, a mur-de-ress who enj-oyed tor-tu-ring her vic-tims.

"I did it for you, La-ura," Mar-go sa-id. "He bet-ra-yed you, just as yo-ur fat-her bet-ra-yed me.

Men are we-ak cre-atu-res, re-al-ly. They put the-ir filthy hands all over you and ma-ke you fe-el li-ke not-hing. They fuck you and hurt you and… but I ma-de them pay. My fat-her. He ra-ped me the first ti-me when I was ele-ven. But I cut off his pec-ker and ram-med it down his thro-at. And then the-re was my first boy-f-ri-end, who che-ated on me with a perky lit-tle che-er-le-ader. I kil-led him, too.

Kil-led them both when I fo-und them to-get-her."

"Daddy… why do-es she… ke-ep sa-ying… I'm her baby?" La-ura gas-ped the words bet-we-en frig-h-te-ned, con-fu-sed sobs.

"You are my baby." Mar-go tur-ned and re-ac-hed for La-ura, who shrank away from her. "Don't be af-ra-id. I'd ne-ver hurt you. I lo-ve you. I al-ways lo-ved you."

"Daddy!"

"Let her go. Ple-ase." Ce-cil strug-gled fru-it-les-sly aga-inst his res-t-ra-ints.

Margo lo-oked at La-ura, who sto-od fro-zen to the spot. Then she pat-ted La-ura's che-ek. "See how he begs me to let his who-re go free? He do-esn't lo-ve me. He ne-ver did. And he do-esn't lo-ve you. He only ga-ve you to that slut of his be-ca-use he wan-ted to pu-nish me."

"Daddy, ple-ase tell me the truth-is she my mot-her?" La-ura drop-ped to her kne-es be-si-de her fat-her.

''Yes. Yo-ur bi-olo-gi-cal mot-her." Swe-at co-ated Ce-cil's pa-le fa-ce and body. "But you're
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not-hing li-ke her, La-ura. I swe-ar. You're gen-de and kind and lo-ving."

As if in a tran-ce, La-ura ro-se to her fe-et and sta-red at Mar-go. "If you lo-ve me the way you say you do, you won't hurt my daddy."

Laura glan-ced at Jaz-zy, who knew she was on the ver-ge of pas-sing out aga-in. God only knew how much blo-od she'd lost. Jaz-zy fi-gu-red that if she didn't get to the hos-pi-tal so-on, she'd die long be-fo-re this crazy bitch sli-ced her to rib-bons. And she was pretty su-re that's what this Mar-go bro-ad had in mind. Do-ing so-me sli-cing and chop-ping on Ce-cil Wil-lis and her, the sa-me as she'd do-ne on Jamie and Stan Watson. Please, let Daddy and Jaz-zy go. And if you want me to. I'll stay with you."

"No, La-ura, no!" Ce-cil cri-ed.

Amazing, Jaz-zy tho-ught. What had hap-pe-ned to that pi-ti-ful, hel-p-less lit-tle girl who'd kept whim-pe-ring and cal-ling for her daddy? It was as if La-ura Wil-lis had tur-ned in-to a ma-tu-re, ca-pab-le wo-man in the blink of an eye.

Wooziness sud-denly over-ca-me Jaz-zy. Her he-ad spun aro-und and aro-und. The pa-in wasn't so bad an-y-mo-re. Sort of a dull ac-he now. That's a bad sign, isn 't it?

BOOK: The Last to Die
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