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Authors: Beverly Barton

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BOOK: The Last to Die
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She hadn't in-ten-ded to le-ave Chat-ta-no-oga this early. It wasn't qu-ite fo-ur-thirty. But why not go ahe-ad and get on the ro-ad? If she left now, she'd be in Che-ro-kee Po-in-te by the ti-me Jas-mi-ne's ope-ned and she co-uld ha-ve bre-ak-fast at the res-ta-urant be-fo-re me-eting Jaz-zy at Dr.

Mac-Na-ir's of-fi-ce aro-und ni-ne. They had ag-re-ed that DNA tes-ting was the first step in dis-co-ve-ring the truth abo-ut the-ir past.

Not wan-ting to bot-her any of the ser-vants at this un-godly ho-ur, she he-aved her su-it-ca-se off the bed. As she wal-ked thro-ugh the ho-use and out to the ga-ra-ge, she co-uldn't help won-de-ring if she was ma-king a mo-nu-men-tal this-ta-ke. She and Jaz-zy Tal-bot had not-hing in com-mon, ot-her than a strong physi-cal re-sem-b-lan-ce- and pos-sibly the sa-me birth pa-rents. Did she re-al-ly want to form a fa-mi-li-al con-nec-ti-on with this wo-man who was, °y all stan-dards, so-ci-al-ly be-ne-ath her and mo-ral-ly in-fe-ri-or. God, Re-ve, lis-ten to yo-ur-self. You so-und li-ke the big-gest snob in the world. All right, may-be she was a snob. No may-be abo-ut it. She was a snob. But she'd be-en tra-ined by her pa-rents and pe-ers to lo-ok down her no-se at her in-fe-ri-ors. The-re you go aga-in, as-su-ming
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just be-ca-use she grew up po-or, has a re-pu-ta-ti-on as the town tramp and owns a hon-ky-tonk, that Jaz-zy isn't yo-ur equ-al.

Reve un-loc-ked the trunk of her Jagu-ar, dum-ped the su-it-ca-se in-si-de, then slid be-hind the whe-el and star-ted the car. Even if Jaz-zy and she tur-ned out to be twin sis-ters, that didn't me-an they had to be-co-me fri-ends. She se-ri-o-usly do-ub-ted that Jaz-zy wan-ted to bu-ild a re-la-ti-on-s-hip with her any mo-re than she wan-ted one with Jaz-zy. But the-re was a ne-ed de-ep in-si-de her to find out the truth-who had thrown her in that Dum-p-s-ter and why? Had her birth mot-her thrown her away?

If so, why had she dis-po-sed of one baby and not both? And if she and Jaz-zy we-re twin sis-ters, why had Jaz-zy's aunt Sally li-ed to her all the-se ye-ars? Af-ter the-ir DNA tes-ting con-fir-med the-ir re-la-ti-on-s-hip, the li-kely pla-ce to start the-ir se-arch for the truth was with Sally Tal-bot. And what a pla-ce to start-with a nutty old wo-man the who-le town tho-ught of as a ko-ok.

Reve hit the but-ton to open the ga-ra-ge do-or, bac-ked out and then clo-sed the do-or. As she en-te-red the stre-et, she stop-ped the car and to-ok a long, hard lo-ok at her ho-me. This ho-use had be-lon-ged to her gran-d-pa-rents, Spen-cer Sor-rell's pa-rents, and the plush man-si-on held only happy me-mo-ri-es for Re-ve. If only she we-ren't adop-ted. If only the Sor-rel-ls had be-en her bi-olo-gi-cal mot-her and fat-her. But her adop-ted mot-her had po-in-ted out to her on nu-me-ro-us oc-ca-si-ons that she was a true Sor-rell in every way that co-un-ted. Ex-cept by blo-od.

As she dro-ve along the ste-ep, twis-ting stre-et le-ading off Lo-oko-ut Mo-un-ta-in, Re-ve com-pa-red the si-mi-la-ri-ti-es bet-we-en this ro-ad and the one whe-re she'd had her car ac-ci-dent out-si-de Che-ro-kee Po-in-te. Damn! Why had she dro-ught abo-ut that wreck aga-in?

Auto-ma-ti-cal-ly her mind brought She-riff But-ler to the fo-ref-ront-a vi-vid ima-ge of his hul-king six-fi-ve fra-me, his gre-en eyes, his hawk no-se, his fi-er-ce frown. She in-ten-ded to do her best to avo-id Jacob But-ler whi-le she was in Che-ro-kee Po-in-te. Not only did the man an-noy her, but he un-ner-ved her. His na-tu-re was a bit too sa-va-ge to su-it her. He'd be-en mo-re than just dow-n-right un-f-ri-endly to-ward her; he'd shown no res-pect what-so-ever for who she was-one of the ric-hest and most po-wer-ful wo-men in the sta-te of Ten-nes-see.

Jazzy's or-gasm ex-p-lo-ded in-si-de her, eli-ci-ting a lo-ud, gut-tu-ral mo-an from de-ep in her thro-at The po-wer-ful sen-sa-ti-ons went on and on un-til they fi-nal-ly ta-pe-red off in-to de-li-ci-o-us af-ter-s-hocks. Hot, damp, com-p-le-tely sa-ted, she smot-he-red Ca-leb with de-li-ri-o-usly exu-be-rant kis-ses. He top-pled her off him and on-to the bed, his hard pe-nis slip-ping out of her du-ring the ma-ne-uver. Be-fo-re she had a chan-ce to catch her bre-ath, he thrust up in-to her. De-ep and hard. On-ce. Twi-ce. And then he ca-me.

Roaring li-ke the ma-le ani-mal he was, Ca-leb shud-de-red with re-le-ase. Mo-ments la-ter, the-ir bo-di-es damp with sex-in-du-ced swe-at, they lay on the-ir backs, the-ir bo-di-es not to-uc-hing, only the-ir en-t-wi-ned fin-gers.

She lo-ved hol-ding hands with Ca-leb. A swe-et, sen-ti-men-tal ges-tu-re, but it sa-id so much abo-ut the-ir re-la-ti-on-s-hip. Abo-ut who she was when she was with him. Abo-ut the type of man Ca-leb McCord was.

Jazzy lo-oked up at the ce-iling, stret-c-hed lan-gu-idly and smi-led. Sex with Ca-leb was al-ways li-ke this-ex-p-lo-si-ve and fully sa-tis-f-ying. But the-re was so much mo-re to the-ir re-la-ti-on-s-hip than gre-at sex. They we-re fri-ends as well as lo-vers. And they we-re madly in lo-ve, too. Ho-nest to go-od-ness in lo-ve.

She didn't know what she'd do-ne to de-ser-ve a fa-bu lo-us guy li-ke Ca-leb, but she than-ked God
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for him. And with each pas-sing day, she trus-ted Ca-leb and the lo-ve they sha-red mo-re and mo-re.

May-be one of the-se days so-on she wo-uld be ab-le to ac-cept his mar-ri-age pro-po-sal. He had as-ked her to marry him so many ti-mes it had al-most be-co-me a joke bet-we-en them.

Almost.

Even now, months af-ter Jamie Up-ton's de-ath, his me-mory ha-un-ted her. But not in the way Ca-leb tho-ught it did. On so-me ba-sic, to-tal-ly mas-cu-li-ne le-vel Ca-leb was still je-alo-us of Jamie, of the fact he'd be-en her first lo-ve and her first lo-ver. The-re was no re-ason for him to be je-alo-us.

She didn't lo-ve Jamie. Only the dis-t-rust and fe-ar Jamie had in-s-til-led in her kept him ali-ve and al-lo-wed him to stand bet-we-en her and Ca-leb, bet-we-en her and hap-pi-ness. ¦Jaz-zy?" Ca-leb sa-id her na-me in that lazy, sexy Mem-p-his drawl she lo-ved so well.

"Hm-m?" She tur-ned si-de-ways and lo-oked at the sil-ho-u-et-te of his long, le-an body the-re in the se-mi-dar-k-ness of her bed-ro-om. She knew his body as well as she knew her own.

"Marry me."

Her smi-le wi-de-ned. She re-ac-hed over and ran her fin-ger-tips up and down his body, from thro-at to na-vel.

He grab-bed her hand. "I me-an it. Marry me. Let's get a li-cen-se to-mor-row and just do it. We'll elo-pe. No fan-fa-re, no-"

"No Miss Re-ba thro-wing a hissy fit un-til it's over and do-ne."

"Do not bring my gran-d-mot-her in-to this equ-ati-on. I've told you a tho-usand ti-mes that I don't gi-ve a damn what she thinks." To-tal-ly na-ked, Ca-leb jum-ped out of bed and grab-bed his je-ans up off the flo-or.

Damn it, she'd hurt his fe-elings by qu-es-ti-oning his lo-yalty to her. Her mind told her that he wo-uld ne-ver do as Jamie had do-ne and al-low Miss Re-ba to dic-ta-te who he co-uld and co-uldn't marry.

But her he-art had be-en bro-ken on-ce by an Up-ton he-ir, by the char-ming, wor-t-h-less, wo-ma-ni-zing Jamie. And her he-art was af-ra-id to trust, af-ra-id to be-li-eve that Miss Re-ba didn't wi-eld the sa-me po-wer over Ca-leb that she had over her ot-her gran-d-son.

"What are you do-ing?"

"I'm put-ting on my clot-hes," Ca-leb told her.

"Why? You aren't le-aving, are you? Ple-ase, Ca-leb, don't go."

He pul-led on his je-ans, and then felt aro-und on the flo-or un-til he fo-und his shirt. "I'm just go-ing out-si-de for a few mi-nu-tes. I ne-ed so-me early mor-ning air to cle-ar my he-ad. I'll be back in a lit-tle whi-le."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he sa-id. "Just re-mem-ber, I'm not Jamie. I'm not wal-king out on you or gi-ving up on us. Not now or ever. You co-uldn't be-at me off with a stick, ho-ney."

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"I know you're not Jamie." When she sat up, the she-et drop-ped to her wa-ist, ex-po-sing her bre-asts.

"Then stop as-su-ming I'm go-ing to tre-at you the way he did. I can't stand it when you pro-j-ect his ac-ti-ons on-to me."

Caleb tur-ned from her and has-tily left the ro-om. Jaz-zy flip-ped on the bed-si-de lamp, then got up and he-aded for the bat-h-ro-om. Usu-al-ly they didn't get up this ear-ly-and se-ven-thirty was early for pe-op-le who didn't go to bed un-til two in the mor-ning-but she had an ap-po-in-t-ment to me-et Re-ve Sor-rell in Dr. Mac-Na-ir's of-fi-ce at ni-ne. Gal-vin had ex-p-la-ined to them that the re-sults of the DNA test might ta-ke a few we-eks, but Re-ve had in-for-med him that she wo-uld pay any ex-t-ra costs ne-ces-sary to fa-ci-li-ta-te a spe-edy res-pon-se.

Jazzy tur-ned on the wa-ter, wa-ited a co-up-le of mi-nu-tes or the wa-ter to he-at, and then step-ped un-der the sho-wer-»e-ad. As the warm spray do-used her, she tho-ught abo-ut her fu-tu-re.

Her first con-cern was Ca-leb. She co-uldn't ke-ep put-ting him off. So-oner or la-ter he'd get ti-red of wa-iting for her to marry him. The tho-ught of lo-sing him was too ter-rib-le to con-si-der, yet she wasn't re-ady to say yes. The-re we-re too many anan-s-we-red qu-es-ti-ons in her li-fe, too many lo-ose ends she had to tie up be-fo-re she co-uld bu-ild a so-lid fu-tu-re with the man she lo-ved. And she did lo-ve Ca-leb. Mo-re than she'd ever tho-ught pos-sib-le to lo-ve a man. But she had to con-vin-ce him that he was the only man she lo-ved. In or-der to do that, she had to let go of Jamie com-p-le-tely.

Since Ca-leb spent most nights at her apar-t-ment abo-ve Jaz-zy's Jo-int, they usu-al-ly clo-sed the bar to-get-her and ca-me up-s-ta-irs for a la-te night me-al and then went to bed. She lo-ved be-ing with him, ma-king lo-ve with him, sha-ring her li-fe with him.

So why don't you marry the guy? she he-ard Lacy Fal-lon's vo-ice in-si-de her he-ad. Lacy, the bar-ten-der at Jaz-zy's Jo-int, tre-ated Jaz-zy li-ke a kid sis-ter, gi-ving her ad-vi-ce and wat-c-hing out for her.

Don't let what Jamie did to you ke-ep you from fin-ding hap-pi-ness with Ca-leb, Jaz-zy's best fri-end, Genny Slo-an, had told her re-pe-atedly.

Even her own he-art ad-vi-sed her to re-ach out and grab the hap-pi-ness Ca-leb of-fe-red.

Jazzy bat-hed hur-ri-edly, was-hed her ha-ir and emer-ged from the sho-wer, fresh and cle-an, and cle-ar-he-aded. By the ti-me she dri-ed her ha-ir and dres-sed, Ca-leb wo-uld pro-bably be back in the apar-t-ment and in the kit-c-hen fi-xing the-ir bre-ak-fast. She smi-led to her-self. Her Ca-leb was a man of many ta-lents.

The te-lep-ho-ne rang. Who on earth wo-uld be cal-ling so early? Ever-yo-ne knew they slept la-te.

Af-ter wrap-ping a to-wel aro-und her, Jaz-zy rus-hed in-to the bed-ro-om to an-s-wer the pho-ne.

"Hello."

"Jazzy, this is Re-ve Sor-rell. I got an early start so I'm al-re-ady in town. I'm over at Jas-mi-ne's and ha-ve just or-de-red bre-ak-fast. Any chan-ce you can jo-in me?"

"Ah… I just step-ped out of the sho-wer. But-" May-be it was a go-od idea to to-uch ba-se with Re-ve be-fo-re they went to see Gal-vin. Af-ter all, if it tur-ned out they re-al-ly we-re twin sis-ters, as they sus-pec-ted, they'd be spen-ding a gre-at de-al of ti-me to-get-her in the up-co-ming we-eks. They
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had ag-re-ed that if the DNA tests pro-ved they we-re sib-lings, they wo-uld work to-get-her to dis-co-ver the truth abo-ut the-ir pa-ren-ta-ge.

"If you'd rat-her not-" Re-ve sa-id.

"No, it's okay. I'll hurry and dress." Jaz-zy pe-eked thro-ugh the open bed-ro-om do-or and in-to the li-ving ro-om. No sign of Ca-leb. She lis-te-ned for any so-und of him in the kit-c-hen. No-ne.

"It's okay if I bring Ca-leb along, isn't it?"

"Sure. Af-ter all, he is yo-ur fi-an-ce, right?"

"He most cer-ta-inly is. Unof-fi-ci-al-ly."

"Have you two set a da-te?"

"Not yet" Ever-yo-ne as-su-med that so-oner or la-ter she'd ac-cept Ca-leb's pro-po-sal-ever-yo-ne ex-cept Ca-leb's gran-d-mot-her, one of Che-ro-kee Co-unty's gran-de da-mes, Re-ba Up-ton. Damn the old bitch!

"Bring him along," Re-ve sa-id. "I'll go ahe-ad and eat, then ha-ve cof-fee when y'all ar-ri-ve. Or wo-uld you li-ke for me to or-der for you two and wa-it?"

"Yes, do that. Just tell Tif-fany that Ca-leb and I will be eating at the res-ta-urant this mor-ning. She knows our usu-al or-der."

"See you so-on." Hm-m." The di-al to-ne hum-med in Jaz-zy's ear.

Reve Sor-rell had be-en ple-asant eno-ugh, but not overly nendly. The wo-man had erec-ted so-me sort of emo-ti-onal bar-ri-er aro-und her-self, one that ef-fec-ti-vely kept pe-op-le at bay. If they we-re twin sis-ters, how was it pos-sib-le that the-ir per-so-na-li-ti-es we-re as dif-fe-rent as night is from day?

She sup-po-sed it all bo-iled down to the old qu-es-ti-on abo-ut which do-mi-na-ted a per-son's physi-cal, men-tal, and emo-ti-onal ma-ke-up mo-re-nur-tu-re or na-tu-re.

Reve Sor-rell was a class act. A re-al lady. Jaz-zy Tal-bot was a da-me, a bro-ad, a go-od old gal.

"Jazzy?" Ca-leb cal-led to her as he en-te-red the li-ving ro-om.

"Huh?"

"Want me to put on so-me cof-fee?"

Caleb might get up-set with her, he might storm off in a ra-ge, but he al-ways ca-me back. He ne-ver left her for mo-re than a few mi-nu-tes, an ho-ur or two on a few oc-ca-si-ons. He me-ant what he'd sa-id abo-ut not ever le-aving her. Not the way Jamie had do-ne, ti-me and ti-me aga-in.

"Reve Sor-rell just cal-led,"Jazzy sa-id. "She wants us to me-et her for bre-ak-fast over at Jas-mi-ne's."

"She got in early, didn't she?"

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"Yeah, she did. I gu-ess she's as an-xi-o-us as I am to get our DNA sam-p-les sent off to the lab."

Caleb ap-pe-ared in the bed-ro-om do-or-way. "Gi-ve me a co-up-le of mi-nu-tes to grab a qu-ick sho-wer." As he mo-ved past her, he pa-used, le-aned over and kis-sed her che-ek, then yan-ked off her to-wel be-fo-re he went in-to the bat-h-ro-om.

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