Coldhearted

by Beverly Barton

Jordan pushed aside the vines that partially covered the security pad and punched in the code. Rick crept closer, quietly and carefully. He slid behind another tree, a towering poplar. After opening the gate, Jordan stood there as if she was waiting for someone. What the hell was going on?

  Although it couldn’t have been more than three or four minutes, it seemed much longer before he heard a car approach the back entrance to the estate. From his vantage point, he saw a small red sports car pull to a stop, then a petite brunette in jeans and boots, with large sunshades hiding her eyes, met Jordan at the gate. He was too far away to understand their conversation, hearing only the hum of their voices. They didn’t talk long before Jordan handed the other woman the envelope she’d been clutching. When she shoved her sunglasses up and onto her head, Rick recognized the woman—Jane Anne Price, the senator’s ex-wife.

  She opened the envelope and removed its contents, then smiled. From the best he could tell from this distance, the first Mrs. Price held a check in her hand.

  Shit! Was Jordan paying off her husband’s ex-wife? Blackmail? Just what did wife number one know that wife number two wanted kept secret?

  The women talked for a couple more minutes, and then Jordan turned and walked away. Jane Anne opened the small shoulder bag she carried, dropped the check inside, and snapped the purse closed.

  Rick had every intention of confronting Jordan. If she was being blackmailed, she should have come to him and let him handle things. But maybe she couldn’t. Maybe the information the first Mrs. Price had implicated Jordan in the senator’s murder.

  Jane Anne smiled. The hundred thousand in her purse was only the first payment. There would be much more to come. She wouldn’t be greedy. A million was enough— for now. Later on, when she needed it, she could ask for a little more. After all, Jordan would soon come into a sizeable fortune, even if she had to share part of Dan’s wealth with Ryan and Devon. And apparently Jordan was smart enough to know she wasn’t bluffing about revealing all of Dan’s ugly little secrets to the world, so she was willing to pay for her silence.

  No need hanging around here now that she’d gotten what she came for. Only a handful of people knew about the old dirt road behind the Price property or that there was a back entrance to the estate. All she had to do was close the gates behind her and they locked automatically. Of course, she could easily get back in anytime she wanted because she remembered the code from when she’d been married to Dan. His mother’s date of birth. There would have been no reason for him to change it.

  Just as she approached the gate, someone called her name. She looked over her shoulder, but didn’t see anybody.

  The wind ruffled through the nearby trees, a barely noticeable caress. One squirrel scurried through the underbrush while another swung out of a high tree branch and onto another.

  “Who’s there?” she asked.

  No reply, the only sounds the soft whisper of the wind and the gentle heartbeat of the woods.

  She shoved the partially open gate wide enough for her to get through. Once again someone called her name.

  Her heart stopped for a millisecond. Whirling around she thought she’d catch the person taunting her, but she still didn’t see anyone. “I know somebody’s there. What do you want?”

  Silence.

  One thing that Jane Anne knew for sure—the voice had been feminine.

  “Leave me the hell alone,” she called, then ran through the open gates and toward her Porsche. She wasn’t going to hang around while someone played silly mind games with her.

  Just as she grasped the driver’s side door handle, someone came up behind her. Before she could turn and face her stalker, the person wrapped a silk scarf around her neck and quickly tightened it. Jane Anne clutched at the scarf, but her attacker rammed a knee between her legs and toppled her to the ground. She tried to fight off the madwoman, but she settled on top of Jane Anne, using the weight of her body to hold her down.

  “You’re a threat to us. You have to die.”

  Jane Anne felt the scarf tightening around her neck cutting off her air. Desperate to breathe, she struggled to loosen the scarf, inadvertently scratching her neck with her own fingernails.

  I won’t let you do this. I won’t let you kill me. I won’t!

  * * *

  Jane Anne might be petite, but she was a fighter. She struggled against the scarf tightening around her neck, clawing at her own skin in an effort to survive. Fresh blood oozed from the scratches her hot pink acrylic nails had made.

  You aren’t going to win this fight. In a few minutes, you will realize that you’re going to die and there’s nothing you can do to save yourself. You made a mistake thinking you could blackmail us. I watched you smiling, so self-satisfied and smug, after Jordan gave you the check. You were probably thinking about all the ways you were going to spend our money and how often you would come back to us for more.

  I hate you, you stupid bitch! I hate you for creating more problems for Jordan. I will not allow you or anyone else to hurt her. I’ve always protected her and I always will.

  Jordan might be willing to pay you for your silence now and in the future, but killing you is a much simpler and more satisfying way to deal with the situation. Doing things my way means you’ll never bother us again.

  She drew the scarf tighter and tighter, her anger fueling her strength.

  Die, bitch, die!

  Help me, dear God, please. Let me live. I promise that I’ll give back the money. I’ll leave Jordan alone and never bother her again.

  The woman strangling her seemed to possess superhuman strength. The harder Jane Anne struggled to free herself, the more furious her attacker became. As the woman pressed her lower body harder against Jane Anne, affectively trapping her on the ground and all but immobilizing her, her rage increased with every passing second.

  Jane Anne gasped, fighting for every breath, but there was no air. She couldn’t breathe. Oh, God, she couldn’t breathe! No, please…please…

  Giving one final convulsive gulp, she realized she was dying.

  Jane Anne went limp as the life drained from her body. Even when she felt fairly certain that the woman was dead, she squeezed the scarf tighter and tighter until there was no doubt in her mind that the greedy, conniving bitch was truly dead.

  She rose slowly to her feet and stared down at her hand-i work. Her victim’s face and neck were dark red, congested with blood. Her eyes were wide open, staring heavenward. Too bad she would never actually see heaven. Women like Jane Anne always went to hell. Her mouth gaped wide open from her desperate, futile attempts to draw air into her lungs.

  She smiled to herself as she wiped her sweaty palms off on the front of her slacks.

  Mission accomplished.

  Well, almost. She needed to get rid of the body as quickly as possible.

  Hmm…What to do? What to do?

  She snapped her fingers.

  There was a pond not far from the back gate. She eyed the woman’s body, surveying her from head to toe. Jane Anne probably didn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds; surely, she could manage to drag the corpse from here to the pond.

  She leaned down, grabbed Jane Anne’s ankles and tugged. Dead weight. She sighed. Put your back into it, she told herself. She tried again and managed to get a stronger hold on the ankles. After glancing around to make sure there was no one nearby, she pulled Jane Anne along the ground, over the gravel, through the open gates, and onto the grass.

  Once she dumped the body into the pond, she would go back to the house as quickly and quietly as possible. She couldn’t let anyone see her.

  But what about Jane Anne’s car? If she left it where it was, wouldn’t someone see it? Maybe not today, since the back gate was never used and rarely did anyone venture out this far, but eventually the car would be found.

  Just leave it. Don’t risk getting caught trying to move it.

  Winded, her arms and back aching from the effort it had taken to bring Jane Anne to the p
ond, she released her ankles, stood up straight, and breathed deeply. She didn’t want to go into the water and chance getting her clothes wet. If anyone saw her before she could change, what explanation could she give them? Instead of dragging the body into the pond, she lifted her foot and nudged it; then gradually, one shove after another, she managed to ease Jane Anne into the pond.

  Suddenly she heard someone humming.

  Searching in every direction, she didn’t see anyone, but the soft humming grew louder. After giving the body one final push into the water, she hurried away, running in the opposite direction.

  Halfway back to the house, she paused to catch her breath. No one had seen her. She knew how to cover her tracks, figuratively speaking. She’d done it many times before, hadn’t she? Even though she hadn’t been able to make Dan’s ex-wife’s death look like an accident, no one would ever suspect her of the woman’s murder.

  And Jordan had an alibi, didn’t she? She was with Rick Carson.

  Chapter 11

  Rick found Jordan in her study, but she wasn’t alone. She and Devon huddled together, his arm around her shoulders, her hand on his arm. They were whispering, so Rick couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he surmised from the worried expressions on their faces that they were discussing Jordan’s recent transaction with the senator’s ex-wife. Whatever damaging information Jane Anne Price was using to blackmail Jordan, it was no secret to Devon Markham.

  As if sensing his presence, Jordan glanced around Devon’s shoulder and her gaze collided with Rick’s. She lifted her hand from Devon’s arm and pushed him gently to the side.

  “Yes, Rick, what is it?” she asked.

  “We need to talk,” Rick said.

  “All right, but can it wait?”

  “No, it can’t.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh. All right. Come in and tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I prefer to speak to you in private.”

  She glanced from Rick to Devon. “Would you mind?” she asked Devon.

  “Are you sure?” Devon glowered at Rick.

  Okay, so the guy didn’t like him. No big deal. He wasn’t fond of him either.

  “I’m sure,” Jordan said.

  When Devon walked past Rick, he all but snarled at him.

  Rick shut the door. “He doesn’t like me.”

  “He doesn’t trust you.”

  “Do you?”

  “Are you asking if I trust you?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m asking.”

  “I want to. There is no reason why I shouldn’t, is there?”

  Rick grunted. “Let’s admit the truth. You don’t know if you can trust me and I don’t know if I can trust you.”

  She came across the room toward him, her movements like liquid silk, flowing smoothly and gracefully. She paused and smiled at him. His stomach muscles tightened. She laid her hand on his arm just above his wrist. His groin tightened.

  Son of a bitch!

  He eyed her small, slender hand, so soft and white against the sleeve of his brown jacket.

  “What’s this all about?” she asked. “Is there something I don’t know about, something else that’s happened?”

  When he covered her hand with his, she clamped her fingers around his wrist.

  “I want to be on your side,” he told her. “I want to help you, but if we don’t trust each other, that’s going to be difficult.”

  “Tell me that you believe me when I say that I didn’t kill Dan, that I’ve never killed anyone.”

  Tell her what she wants to hear. Lie to her if you have to. “I want to believe you, but when you do something like you did this afternoon, I have to wonder if I’d be a fool to believe you.”

  “What are you talking about? What did I—?”

  “I followed you and saw you meeting with Jane Anne Price.”

  “Oh.” She yanked her hand off his arm.

  “You gave her a check, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is she blackmailing you?”

  Jordan looked away, deliberately averted her gaze. “Yes.”

  He reached out and cradled her chin in the curve between his thumb and forefinger. “Look at me.”

  She lifted her head and stared right at him.

  “How much did you pay her?”

  “A hundred thousand,” Jordan admitted. “It was a down payment. She wants a million.”

  Rick let out a long, low whistle. “She must know something awfully damn important. What the hell is worth a million bucks to keep secret?”

  “My husband’s reputation.”

  “Care to explain?”

  “No, I can’t. I…Oh, God, Rick, please, let it go. Don’t keep digging. If you do, you’re not going to discover that I killed Dan or Boyd or Robby Joe. But you could inadvertently pique someone’s curiosity and if someone else found out…Please, for my sake, confine your investigation strictly to trying to discover whether or not Dan committed suicide.”

  “What are you so afraid of?” He grasped her by the shoulders. She looked up at him pleadingly. “Damn it, Jordan, you have to know that you’re going to be crucified in the press. The kind of information they have about you is a reporter’s wet dream. If what Jane Anne Price knows could make matters worse—”

  “What she knows could hurt so many people, including my baby. Can’t you understand that I had to pay her off?”

  “Do you honestly believe that once you’ve paid her a million that will be the end of it? A blackmailer always comes back for more. Whatever you pay them, it’s never enough.”

  “Oh, Rick, what am I going to do?”

  When he pulled her into his arms, she went into his embrace not just willingly, but eagerly. He stroked her back, trying to comfort her. “Does anyone else, other than you and Devon, know what Jane Anne knows?”

  “Yes.” She rested her head on his chest.

  “Then she’s not your only problem, is she?”

  “No one else would ever—”

  “Who knows?”

  “Only a handful of people closest to Dan and me. Devon, of course, and Ryan and Claire.”

  “Anyone else?”

  Before she could reply, a woman’s screams, followed by shouting and the rumble of footsteps, echoed through the house. Jordan lifted her head from his chest. The study door flew open. Darlene gasped when she saw Jordan in Rick’s arms.

  Jordan lifted her head and pulled away from him. “What is it? What’s happened?”

  “That was Tammy screaming,” Darlene said, her gaze jerking back and forth from Jordan to Rick. “She says there’s a dead body in the south pond.”

  “What?” Jordan gasped.

  “She’s hysterical. She came running into the house screaming like a banshee. J.C. has gone with one of those Powell agents, that Mr. Keinan, to see if there really is a body in the pond and Roselynne is trying to calm Tammy.”

  Jordan looked at Rick. “You don’t think—?”

  He shook his head. “Stay here. I’ll catch up with Holt and J.C. and find out what’s going on.”

  She grabbed his arm, stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. “Please, don’t say anything to anyone about what you saw earlier.”

  Don’t think it, he told himself, but couldn’t stop the thought from forming in his mind. What if there really was a body in the pond? And what if it was Jane Anne Price? If the check Jordan gave her was found on her…

  There was a body in the pond, lying half in and half out of the water. After looking over the scene and discovering obvious signs that the body had been dragged from near the back gates to the pond, they agreed that the woman probably hadn’t drowned. Without turning her over, Rick couldn’t be a hundred percent positive that it was Jane Anne Price, but she was the same petite size, had the same dark hair, and her clothes were identical to those the senator’s ex-wife had been wearing. They’d seen a small, leather shoulder bag by the gates. And the red sports car was still parked on the gravel drive. So, he was n
inety-nine percent sure of the woman’s identity.

  Holt and J.C. stayed at the scene while Rick walked back to the house. On the way, he telephoned the sheriff first, and then he put in a call to Griffin Powell.

  “Did Ryan Price fire you?” Griff asked when he answered the phone.

  “No, I’m still on the job. And it looks like we’ll need those extra Powell agents down here ASAP.”

  “What’s happened?”

  Rick filled Griff in on the situation, explaining about Jordan paying the former Mrs. Price blackmail money and it was a good possibility that Jordan’s check was in Jane Anne’s purse.

  “You followed Jordan back to the house after her meeting, right, and there’s no chance she could have doubled back and killed Jane Anne?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Then you’re Jordan’s alibi.”

  “It would seem that I am,” Rick agreed.

  “The police are going to be all over her once they find the check, and even if you can swear she wasn’t out of your sight long enough to have killed Jane Anne, she’ll still look guilty. They could accuse her of hiring someone to do the job or that she’s in partnership with someone, like Devon Markham. They killed Dan Price and then they killed Jane Anne, only Markham did the actual deed.”

  “She’s going to need a good lawyer.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Will you contact Cam Hendrix?”

  “You’re taking a lot on yourself,” Griff told him. “Don’t you think you’d better see what the lady wants to do before we—?”

  “She needs someone to look out for her and that’s what I’m trying to do. It’s part of my job, right?”

  “It’s not like you to get personally involved with a client.”

  “I’m not getting— Okay, so maybe I am, but I swear, Griff, if not for bad luck, she wouldn’t have any luck at all. She didn’t kill Jane Anne Price, and I’m beginning to believe that she didn’t kill her husband or anyone else for that matter.”

  “I’ll call Cam,” Griff said. “If Jordan gives you the okay, I’ll do what I can to get Cam to drive over from Chattanooga right away.”

  “Thanks. And send at least half a dozen agents down here tomorrow. We’re going to need them.”