After Dark
Page 23
“He would have wanted to believe me, but he would have had a difficult time taking my word over Kent’s.” Johnny Mack slipped his arm around her waist. “Your father liked me, but we both know if he could have chosen a husband for you, it would have been Kent.”
“Yes, it would have been. And Daddy would have been wrong in that choice.” Lane laid her head on Johnny Mack’s chest and wrapped her arms around him. “How could we have all been so blind to Kent’s true nature? I knew that after he started drinking he turned into a vicious, vindictive monster, but I had no idea…. Poor Mary Martha.”
“Kent Graham deserved to die the way he did—beaten to a pulp.” Johnny Mack stroked Lane’s back, caressing her tenderly. “Whoever killed him hated him, that’s for sure.”
“You don’t think Mary Martha…” Lane groaned.
“Perhaps. Or maybe even Miss Edith. And I wouldn’t rule out Buddy Lawler. He knew about Kent’s relationship with Mary Martha, and I’d say that man would do just about anything for her.”
“But Miss Edith and Mary Martha were together when Kent was killed. And Buddy was downtown at his office.”
“Mmm-mmm.”
“What are you thinking?” Lane lifted her head from his chest and gazed up into his eyes.
“I’m wondering if there’s any connection between Jackie Cummings’s so-called suicide and Kent’s murder.”
“What do you mean so-called suicide?”
“Call me a male chauvinist pig if you want to, but it’s my opinion that as a general rule, women don’t use guns when they commit suicide.”
Lane grasped Johnny Mack’s forearms, the act putting some space between them. “What do you mean?”
“Honey, men blow their brains out. Women take pills.”
“The way Mary Martha did.”
“Yeah.”
“So that means you think Jackie didn’t kill herself.”
“I think somebody went to an awful lot of trouble to make it look like suicide, even down to writing a phony suicide note. But the question is why?”
“And the answer is?” Lane asked.
“The answer is that Jackie Cummings knew something she wasn’t supposed to know and somebody killed her to keep her quiet.”
“But who?” Lane sucked in a startled breath when realization dawned. “You think whoever killed Kent killed Jackie, too.”
“That’s my guess.”
“Oh, Johnny Mack.” Lane sighed. “Can life get any more complicated than it already is?”
He eased her back into his arms and kissed her softly, then lifted his head and grinned at her. “What happened between us this morning is another complication, isn’t it? I figure you’re confused about us. About the way you feel. About the way I feel. And about how Will might react if he knew you and I were…together.”
“Are we together?”
He lowered his hands from her waist to her hips and shoved her up against his arousal. “We are most definitely together.”
“We had sex, Johnny Mack, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”
“It damn well means something to me. And you can’t tell me that it doesn’t mean a hell of a lot to you, too, lady. You don’t give yourself to a man the way you gave yourself to me and that act be meaningless.”
“You’ve had sex countless times, with numerous women,” she said. “You can’t tell me that most of those encounters were anything more than—”
He kissed her. Forcefully. Demandingly. Couldn’t she get it through her pretty head that anyone who had come before her didn’t matter? That every other woman he’d ever had didn’t mean anything to him in comparison to her.
“We both know that I sowed more than my share of wild oats,” he said. “But these days, I’m no horny kid who has to lay everything in a skirt. I’m a man who knows what he wants. And what I want is you, Lane Noble.”
“Lane Noble Graham,” she corrected. “Neither of us can forget that I was Kent’s wife for ten years.”
“Okay, so we can’t forget your past or mine, but what we can do is put the past where it belongs. Behind us. All that matters is the here and now. Today. And what we can have together.”
“No commitments? No plans for the future?” she asked. “We’ll just take this relationship one day at a time?”
Yes, he wanted a commitment. Lane was his, and he sure as hell would never give her up now. But maybe she wasn’t ready for him to stake a permanent claim on her. After all, what had he ever done to deserve her? But he could be patient, especially when it came to getting something he wanted. He most definitely wanted Lane. And he meant to have her. Tonight. Tomorrow. For as long as there was breath in his body.
“We’ll take it one day at a time,” he lied. “Just as long as you let me keep on loving you. Once didn’t even begin to satisfy me. I can’t get enough of you, honey. Don’t you know that?” Cupping the back of her head, he speared his fingers through her hair and brought her lips to his.
When he kissed her, she moaned quietly, surrendering herself to him. God, how he loved the sounds she made, those enticing, feminine sighs and gasps that told him, without words, the way his touch affected her.
“Johnny Mack—” Will came rushing into the library. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know y’all were…. I’m sorry.” Will froze to the spot several feet over the threshold. Embarrassment colored his face.
Lane ended the kiss abruptly and shoved on Johnny Mack’s chest, but he held her in place, refusing to relinquish his claim on her.
“Will, let me explain,” Lane said.
“There’s nothing to explain.” Will shrugged.
Johnny Mack eased his hands upward, then draped his arm around Lane’s shoulder. “Your mother and I care about each other. We haven’t made any plans for the future, but I promise you that when the time comes to make some serious decisions, you’ll be included in that decision making. Your mother would never do anything—”
“Look, save it, will you?” Will said. “If you and Mama have got something going on, then it’s okay by me.” Will puffed out his chest and stood straight and tall. “But you just remember that if you hurt her, you’ll have to answer to me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Johnny Mack forced himself not to smile. He had one hell of a son there. Yes, he did.
“Will, honey, did you want something?” Lane asked.
“Yeah. Quinn sent me to tell y’all that Mr. Foster, the PI guy Johnny Mack hired, is here. And he’s got some information that might prove somebody besides Mama had a strong motive for killing Kent.”
Chapter 21
Johnny Mack exchanged a hardy handshake with Wyatt Foster and indicated for the man to take a seat, but the tall, rugged PI shook his head.
“I’d rather stand,” he said, his voice like sandpaper against metal.
Foster nodded an acknowledgment to Lane and then gave Will a quick glance. The man’s aura of command probably intimidated a lot of people, Lane thought. But nothing and no one intimidated her these days. And that was good, considering she was in a room with three ultramacho guys. Her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of Will, standing at Johnny Mack’s left, and she emended her count to four ultramacho guys. No doubt about it, Will was his father’s son. Strong. Stubborn. Handsome. An alpha male in the making.
“I understand you’ve unearthed some information that might help us.” Johnny Mack reached down and took Lane’s hand in his.
“That’s right. I think I’ve found y’all a new suspect. But it’s just a hunch on my part, you understand.”
“At this point, we’ll take your hunch,” Quinn said. “Remember, I know all about your hunches.” He turned to the others and explained. “If Wyatt Foster’s gut instincts tell him something, then that’s the way it is. His hunches are practically foolproof.”
Foster had come highly recommended by Quinn, who had used the former Dallas cop on numerous cases. If Quinn trusted the man’s instincts, then why shouldn’t she? After all, h
er new lawyer had never lost a case, and she had to believe that he could find a way to prove her innocence.
Foster’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “Y’all want the kid in on this?” He glanced at Will.
“I can leave.” Will headed for the door.
“No.” Johnny Mack grabbed his son’s arm. “Will’s not a kid. He’s a young man now. And he’s as involved in this mess as any of us. He stays.”
In that one moment, Lane knew why she loved Johnny Mack Cahill, why she had always loved him. Nothing he could have said or done would have won him more points with Will. If given the chance, he was going to be a really good father.
“Is that all right with you, Mama?” Will asked.
“Of course,” she replied, suddenly realizing how important it was for a boy to have a father’s understanding of the male psyche to counteract the feminine protectiveness of his mother.
“Get to it, Foster,” Quinn said.
Wyatt Foster opened his brown leather briefcase and removed a folder. “I’ve documented all the information, and there’s a few pictures in here, too.”
“Give the folder to Quinn,” Johnny Mack said. “Now, tell us what you’ve got.”
“James Ware, Noble’s Crossing’s mayor and Edith Ware’s husband, has been having an affair with a beautician named Arlene Dothan for quite some time now.” Foster cut his eyes in Will’s direction, cleared his throat and continued. “The man has no money of his own, so to speak. His wife holds the purse strings, and the two signed a prenup. So a good question is how did he pay for Ms. Dothan’s new car? He purchased the new Buick in her name over in Huntsville six months ago. And there’s a talkative jeweler over in Decatur who identified James Ware and Arlene Dothan from photos I showed him. Seems that over the past few years, Mr. Ware has bought his sweetie several pieces of expensive jewelry. A ruby ring. A diamond-studded wristwatch. A couple of gold necklaces and a diamond heart pendant.”
“Interesting,” Quinn said. “How did a guy who is dependent on his wife for his income pay for a car and expensive jewelry?”
“There’s more,” Foster said. “Seems there’s been several nice vacation trips. To Jamaica. To the Smoky Mountains. To Aspen. And even one to Disney World, when they took Ms. Dothan’s two kids with them.”
Johnny Mack let out a long, low whistle. “James is getting his hands on some cash somewhere. Want to take a guess as to where?”
“From Edith,” Lane said.
“Grandmother would never have given him that kind of money,” Will told them. “And those trips James went on were supposed to be business trips, conventions where mayors from other towns got together.”
Johnny Mack grinned. “Miss Edith didn’t give him the money. He stole it from her.”
“Of course!” Lane agreed enthusiastically. “James took over as Miss Edith’s lawyer as well as my family’s lawyer when his father died. He takes care of all of Edith’s holdings. It wouldn’t be that difficult for him to skim a little off the top.”
“There’s no telling how much money he has embezzled from her.” Johnny Mack focused his attention on Wyatt Foster. “Have you found any hidden bank accounts?”
“If the man has a secret bank account, it’s probably in Switzerland,” Wyatt surmised.
“I know this information is damning,” Lane said. “But I don’t see what James’s embezzling money from Miss Edith could possibly have to do with Kent’s murder or how it can help me.”
Wyatt lifted his shaggy eyebrows in a but-what-if mannerism. “I’m just supposing here…but what if somebody else found out what we suspect James of doing? And what if that somebody confronted James and threatened to expose him? Now, what if that somebody was Kent Graham? I’d say that would give James Ware a damn good motive for murder.”
“My God!” Lane covered her mouth with her hand. Was it possible that sweet, easy-going, henpecked James was capable of murder?
“But you don’t have any proof that Kent knew what James was up to or that he confronted James.” Will draped his arm around his mother’s shoulder. “What good is this information if you can’t prove your theory? Besides, I can’t believe James would hurt a fly, let alone kill somebody.”
“I’m just the messenger,” Wyatt said. “I don’t know the players personally. But my knowledge of human nature tells me that anyone is capable of murder, given the right motivation.”
“Getting the truth out of James should be easy enough.” Johnny Mack entwined his fingers, bringing his big hands together in a choking gesture.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Quinn advised.
“All I’m going to do is pay the mayor a little visit first thing in the morning.”
“I’ll go with you,” Lane said.
“No, honey, I’ll handle this alone. Man to man, just James and me.”
Arlene sighed with contentment as she lay on the cot in the back of her beauty shop and watched James Ware dressing. By most women’s standards James wouldn’t be considered all that goodlooking. His hair was thinning and turning gray. He was of medium height and medium build with a thick middle and the beginnings of a beer belly. But to her, he was prince charming. She loved the guy something awful and lived for the day they could stop sneaking around to be together. All she wanted was for them to get married and start a new life somewhere outside of Noble’s Crossing. But James kept saying that they needed more money. Didn’t he realize that she would live with him in a tent if they could just be together?
“I’ve got to go.” James leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. “God, I hate to leave you.”
“Then, don’t leave me. Stay the night.”
“Now, sugar, you know I can’t do that.” He kissed her again, but when she tugged on his tie, he grabbed her hand. “I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to pick Edith up at the hospital and take her out for dinner.”
Arlene jerked her hand from his grasp, crossed her arms over her naked breasts and puckered her lips in what she hoped was a sultry pout.
“Now, don’t be angry with me. I’m doing what I have to do to secure our future. Yours and mine and the kids.”
“I’m getting tired of waiting for that future you keep promising me. We’re not neither one getting any younger. Before I get too old, I’d like to give you a kid all your own.”
That stopped him dead in his tracks, as she knew it would. James adored her two children, and she suspected he wanted one of his own. He cupped her face between his hands and stared directly into her eyes.
“I love you, Arlene. And I promise you that you’re going to have everything you ever wanted, including that baby.”
With downcast eyes, she sighed. “You’d better get going. Don’t want to keep your wife waiting.”
“Sugar, I’m sorry. Really I am.”
“It’s all right,” she told him.
“No, it’s not all right, but I can’t do any better by you right now. But soon, Arlene. I promise.”
She nodded. Then when he started to leave, she jumped up off the cot and ran after him, catching him before he opened the back door into the alley. She flung her arms around him and covered his face with kisses.
“You think about me tonight while you’re dining out with Miss Edith.”
She knew James was torn between wanting to screw her again and needing to meet his wife. Maybe she should feel bad about making things difficult for him, but dammit all, she didn’t know how much longer she could stand it—thinking about James with another woman. Even though he swore to her that he hadn’t shared a bed with Miss Edith in years, Arlene found it hard to believe that his wife didn’t want him. Not when she wanted him so badly.
“Let me go, sugar,” James pleaded.
Arlene released him, stepped back and put a false smile on her face. “Call me, after you go to bed tonight.”
James nodded, then exited in a hurry. Arlene slumped down on the cot. That’s it, run to Miss Edith like a good boy. Like a damn obedient little slave.
Arlene couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t loved James Ware, Jr. She had known from the very beginning, when they’d been in junior high, that they came from two different worlds. His old man had been a lawyer to all the rich folks on Magnolia Avenue, and his mama had been a former debutante from New Orleans whose family had more pedigree than money. But James had loved her, too, despite the fact that she lived across the Chickasaw River in a house not much bigger than his family’s garage.
They had sneaked around to be together back then, too, when they were teenagers. James had been her first. For that much she was thankful. They had made plans for a future together, but the minute old man Ware had found out that James was serious about her, he’d sent James off to college and forbade him to ever see “that white trash gal” again. She had believed James would stand up to his father and refuse to turn his back on her, but in the end James had proved himself to be the obedient son.
She had up and married the first boy who asked her. And the only reason Wade Cash had proposed was because he’d discovered that Arlene didn’t put out. Not for anybody. Except James. Only James. She had been a good girl, and nothing short of love had made her give up her virginity. She supposed folks would laugh at the idea that Arlene Vickery Cash Motes Dothan, a three-time divorcee, considered herself a moral woman. But she was. The only men, other than James, she’d ever had sex with had been her husbands. And James was practically her husband, wasn’t he? In her heart, she felt as if she and James were already man and wife. If love united two people, then they were as joined together as any legal ceremony could ever make them.
She had to be patient. James had promised her that they would take her kids and leave Noble’s Crossing soon. All he had to do was put away just a little bit more money.