The Dying Game

by Beverly Barton

  While he blew his warm breath on his chilled hands, the front doors opened. Sanders nodded. “Good morning, Mr. Walker. Please come in and go to Griffin’s study. I believe you know the way. I’ll tell him that you have arrived.”

  “Thanks.” Judd entered the foyer. “So, how have you been doing, Sanders?”

  “Quiet well, thank you, sir.”

  “Want to let me in on just what Griff has in store for me?” Judd asked. “Is he going to put me on the rack and tighten the screws or just ask me to bend over and give me a swift kick in the butt?”

  Sanders didn’t crack a smile as he closed the doors and turned to face Judd. “I wouldn’t know, sir. But if I were to make an educated guess, I would say he plans to speak to you about how to conduct yourself around Ms. Hughes. And…”

  “And?”

  “And anything else is none of my business.”

  “I thought everything to do with Griff was your business, especially Lindsay McAllister, since both of you are quite fond of her.”

  Avoiding direct eye contact with Judd, Sanders walked away. “I’ll tell Griffin that you are here.”

  Judd knew the way to Griff’s study. He’d been in the house on numerous occasions, both before his marriage and after Jennifer’s death.

  But not once during his brief marriage.

  The door to Griff’s den stood partially ajar. Judd nudged the heavy wooden door with his hand and walked into the two-story study. A chunk of burned wood crumbled in the massive rock fireplace. The antique clock on the mantel struck eleven times, announcing the hour.

  He had always liked this room—a man’s room, with wood paneling, sturdy leather sofa and chairs, hardwood flooring—because it was totally void of anything remotely feminine. Every man needed one room in his home that was his. In the family mansion on Lookout Mountain, a home built by his grandfather, there was a room similar to this one. It was a room he’d loved as a boy when he’d spent time there with his dad and a room he’d loved as a man when he had inherited the house. But Jennifer hadn’t wanted to live in “that stuffy mausoleum” and had insisted they purchase a downtown penthouse, which had reflected the sleek, modern, minimalist style she preferred.

  “You need a haircut,” Griffin said.

  Judd turned to face his old friend. “A lot of men wear their hair long these days. I hear that women think it’s sexy.”

  Griff snorted. “You don’t give a damn how you look. That’s why your hair is shaggy, why you’re wearing those old clothes, and why you didn’t shave this morning.”

  “Hey, at least I’m clean. I did take a shower.”

  “Should I be grateful?”

  “Look, if you don’t want me here, I’ll go,” Judd said. “I realize you’ve given me more chances than I deserved. If I’ve used them all up, just say so.”

  “If you stay, there are a few rules you’ll have to follow. Are you willing to do that?”

  “If the rules have anything to do with Lindsay—”

  Griffin glowered at him, a fierce expression tightening his jaw. “How could you have hurt her that way? You knew how she felt about you.”

  “I didn’t ask her to care about me, did I? It’s not my fault that she—”

  “Bullshit! You’ve depended on her caring, wanted it, craved it.”

  Standing face-to-face with the six-four former UT quarterback, Judd glowered at Griff. He wanted to deny the accusation, the words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t respond. Had he been using Lindsay for the past few years? Had he really craved the tender loving care she had lavished on him?

  “I never realized that I might have subconsciously needed her to care,” Judd admitted. “Look, I can’t change the past, but what if I swear to you, here and now, that I won’t ever hurt her again.”

  “Then cut her loose, let her go.”

  “I tried. Six months ago.”

  The anger in Griff’s steely blue eyes sent an undeniable warning. “You should be horsewhipped for what you did.”

  “She said she didn’t tell you everything.”

  “She didn’t.”

  “Then how—”

  “I know Lindsay,” Griff said. “And I know what an unfeeling bastard you’ve become. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that you nearly raped her.”

  “Rape is an ugly word. I did not…” Judd cleared his throat. He didn’t want to think about how he had mistreated Lindsay, how cruel he’d been to her. “I stopped before it went that far.”

  “You humiliated her. You broke her heart.” Griff glared at Judd. “Being a grieving widower whose wife was murdered is no excuse for becoming the kind of man you are now. Do you think you’re the first man who ever lost the woman he loved?”

  “I take it that I can’t play the sympathy card with you any longer.”

  “You got that damn straight. If you want to be a part of this investigation, from here on out, you’ll have to prove to me you deserve this one last chance. And make no mistake about it. As far as I’m concerned, this is your last chance.” Griff’s gaze linked with Judd’s. “Do you understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “Cut your emotional ties to Lindsay,” Griff told him. “And a couple of other things—”

  “You really want your pound of flesh, don’t you?” Judd managed an unsteady smile.

  “At the very least.” Griff’s tense stance relaxed. “Barbara Jean Hughes is staying here, under my protection. You are not to confront her or bother her in any way. If you do, I’ll personally throw you out.”

  “Has she told you anything else? Has she given you a description of the man she saw leaving her sister’s apartment?”

  “No. Not yet. And I have no intention of pushing her. If she’s not pressured, she might be able to remember more and be less afraid to confront the truth about what she does know.”

  “I’ll steer clear of Ms. Hughes.” Judd lifted his hand in a Boy Scout’s honor signal. “That’s two rules down and how many more to go?”

  “Would I be pushing it too far to ask you to get a haircut, wear some decent clothes, and shave every day?”

  When Judd noted Griff’s mouth lift in a hint of a smile, he realized that there might be hope for their friendship. He had taken old friends for granted—friends like Griffin and Camden. He had abused their trust. Had tested their patience. Had driven them away. All in the name of self-pity.

  “How about we compromise,” Judd said. “I’ll shave every day.”

  Griff grunted. “There is one more thing—I want you to apologize to Barbara Jean.”

  Judd eyed Griff curiously. “All right.”

  “You’re wondering why I’m not asking you to apologize to Lindsay, aren’t you?”

  Judd nodded.

  “It would be too little too late.”

  A soft rap on the partially closed study door announced the end of their private conversation.

  “Ms. Hughes to see you,” Sanders said.

  Judd and Griff turned and faced Sanders and the wheelchair-bound woman in front of him. Although he’d gotten right up in her face last night, Judd hadn’t really looked at her. He now realized that she was a very attractive woman, probably in her early forties, with short, curly red hair, and kind, hazel eyes. He saw grief in her eyes, the kind of grief he had once known.

  “Please, come in,” Griff said.

  Sanders followed Barbara Jean as she wheeled into the den, then stopped abruptly when she saw Judd.

  “Ms. Hughes, I’m Judd Walker.” He made no attempt to approach her. “I want to apologize to you for acting like a madman at the hospital last night. I’m sorry that I frightened you.”

  She stared at him, surveying him from head to toe, then she settled her gaze on his face. “You think the man who killed my sister is the same man who killed your wife. I can understand how much you’d want to find this man and bring him to justice.”

  “Thank you for being so kind,” Judd said.

  “Please, c
ome on in,” Griffin repeated, then looked at Judd. “Why don’t you go with Sanders. He’ll show you to your room and you can settle in. Lunch will be at one. I’d like for you to join us.”

  Realizing he’d been dismissed, Judd nodded, smiled at Barbara Jean, and walked out of Griff’s den, with Sanders only a few steps behind him.

  “Where’s Lindsay?” Judd asked Sanders.

  “She’s in a meeting with several of the other Powell agents.”

  “Big powwow going on, huh?”

  “I believe they’re making arrangements for Ms. Hughes to have around-the-clock protection and preparing for a meeting with Griffin this afternoon,” Sanders said. “I assume you’ll be included in that meeting.”

  “Only if I’m a good boy and play by the rules.”

  “That’s as it should be.” Sanders marched around and in front of Judd. “This way, please.”

  “Just tell me which room,” Judd said. “No need to put yourself out.”

  “Where is your luggage?” Sanders asked.

  “Didn’t bring any.”

  “Very well. Just make a list of what you’ll need and I’ll—”

  “Start with a shave kit,” Judd told him. “I promised Griff I’d shave every day.”

  “Very well, sir. Please follow me.”

  Judd shrugged, then went up the stairs behind Sanders. “You don’t like me very much these days, do you?”

  “No, sir.”

  Judd chuckled. “Because of Lindsay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Why she’d bother giving me the time of day, I don’t know, not when she has you and Griff wrapped around her little finger.”

  Ignoring Judd’s caustic comment, Sanders opened the second door on the right. “I will bring back a shave kit so that you can shave before lunch. What about clothes?”

  “I’ll have some things sent down from Chattanooga.” Judd clicked his heels and saluted Sanders, who gave him a withering glare, then turned and walked away.

  Sanders was an odd one. Judd had once asked Griff how the two had met and why they had become fast friends. He had been surprised by Griff’s reply.

  “Sanders and I met in hell and joined forces to fight the devil.”

  Griffin situated Barbara Jean across from the sofa in his den, then sat so that they were eye to eye. With her head slightly bowed and her gaze cast downward, she cleared her throat several times.

  “Do you like your room?” Griff asked.

  “Yes, very much. Thank you.”

  “Is there a problem with your having Shaughnessy acting as your bodyguard just for today?”

  She shook her head. “He seems like a very nice man.”

  “If you want or need anything, all you have to do is ask.”

  “Sanders mentioned that you were making arrangements for Gale Ann’s funeral. Is that correct?” She looked at him then, a thousand questions in her misty eyes.

  “I took the liberty of contacting a funeral home in Williamstown,” Griff told her. “Your sister’s body won’t be released until after the autopsy, which hopefully will be fairly soon, so there is no real rush. Whatever decisions you wish to make, you may certainly do so. And anything you’d like for me to handle, I will.”

  “Thank you. It was difficult enough when Gale Ann and I had to take care of everything when each of our parents died, but I never thought I’d have to—” A sob caught in her throat. “I’m the older sister, so naturally I thought I’d die first.”

  Griff reached out, engulfed Barbara Jean’s trembling hands in his steady grasp and said, “Please spare no expense in the funeral arrangements. Judd and I will pay for whatever you want.”

  “You and Mr. Walker? I—I don’t understand.”

  Judd had not paid for the funeral of any other victim, but Griff intended to make him help foot the bill for Gale Ann’s. One more way to help bring his old friend back to the land of the living.

  “Judd and I are both very wealthy men,” Griff explained. “Your sister’s funeral will be only one of several we have paid for.” A small white lie. He had paid for ten funerals. This would be the first for Judd.

  “But why would you—?”

  “In memory of Judd’s wife, Jennifer, who was also my friend.” And because I have more money than I could spend in ten lifetimes. Blood money.

  “That’s very kind of you…and of Mr. Walker.” She searched Griff’s face, as if suspecting he had a hidden agenda, some dark secret reason he would make such a generous offer.

  Griff squeezed her hands, then released his hold. “There are no strings attached.”

  “I’m so sorry if I gave you the impression I didn’t trust you. You’ve been more than kind and generous and…I can’t identify that man. Really, I can’t. I barely saw him and—”

  “And we won’t mention it again. Not unless you remember something else. No one here at Griffin’s Rest will pressure you, Barbara Jean. You’re here to rest and recuperate from a harrowing experience. And when you’re ready to go to work, just say the word.”

  She took a deep breath, then released it quickly. A heavy sigh of relief. “I’ll go crazy without something to do. Whenever you’re ready to put me to work, I’m ready.”

  “You don’t want to rush yourself. Take all the time you need to deal with what happened to Gale Ann.”

  “Working will help me cope. Please, I’d like to start first thing tomorrow.”

  Griff nodded. “All right. Then first thing tomorrow, you can begin Sanders’s instructions.”

  Leaning her head to one side in an inquisitive manner, she looked directly at Griff. “You’ve hired me to instruct Mr. Sanders in what way?”

  “On the computer. He’s totally computer-illiterate.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “No, you don’t. Not really.”

  Her gaze widened.

  “Sanders is not a servant in my home. He is my right arm. I need a man in his position to be computer savvy. He has resisted going near a computer for years now, but I’ve finally persuaded him that in order to assist me even more than he does now, it is necessary.”

  “Well, since my job with Honeywell was as a computer programmer, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble teaching Sanders the basics rather quickly. He seems to be a highly intelligent man.”

  “Sanders is a brilliant man,” Griff assured her. “Just a bit old-fashioned and set in his ways.”

  “It would be my pleasure to be his teacher.”

  “Good. Good.” Griff stood. “I’ll turn you over to Shaughnessy. You’re welcome to go anywhere at Griffin’s Rest, as long as your bodyguard is with you.” Griff walked to the door, opened it, and motioned for Shaughnessy Hood, who stood waiting at the end of the hallway. “If you need anything, anything at all, just let us know.”

  As she wheeled herself through the doorway, she said, “Thank you, Griffin. You’ve been very kind to me.”

  Griff watched as she maneuvered her chair down the hall toward the solarium, Shaughnessy following several feet behind her. Once they were out of sight, he sought out Sanders, whom he found at one of the three computers in Griff’s fully-equipped home office.

  When Sanders started to rise from the swivel chair, Griff motioned him down. “Don’t get up.”

  “You’ve spoken to Ms. Hughes?” Sanders inquired.

  “Yes, I have.”

  “And?”

  “And you start computer lessons first thing tomorrow, so do your best to act like you don’t know the first thing about computers.”

  “Of all things for you to have hired her to do—why teach me how to do something that I know how to do?”

  “Because I needed to offer her a job and since there are none available at the agency or here at home, the only thing I could think of was something in her field.”

  “I shall try not to give myself away,” Sanders said.

  “I have every confidence in you.”

  “As I do in you.”

  Griff nodded.
“We have three wounded souls under our roof. I’d like to think we can somehow help all three of them.”

  “I leave Mr. Walker to you,” Sanders said. “I find his treatment of Lindsay unforgivable. And as for our Lindsay…she must heal herself by accepting Mr. Walker for who he is and not the man she wants him to be.”

  “What about Barbara Jean?”

  “It would be my honor to do all I can to help her through the next few weeks. I believe beneath all that innate shyness and the sadness caused by her recent tragedy, there is a special lady.”

  Griff eyed his friend speculatively. “You like her.”

  “She is a likable person.”

  Griff smiled. In all the years since he had returned to the United States and brought Sanders with him, this was the first time he’d ever seen his friend show any special interest in a lady, other than Lindsay. But Lindsay was like a daughter to Sanders and it was apparent his interest in Barbara Jean was not fatherly.

  Chapter 9

  Divided into three separate areas, Griffin’s home office rivaled any modern, well-equipped office space. Boasting every conceivable state-of-the-art device and furnished with the best money could buy, the impressive setup reflected the man himself. Although Judd had admired Griff Powell, the star UT quarterback, as had the entire state of Tennessee, Judd hadn’t known the young Griff. They hadn’t met until eight years ago at a social function of some type, only a few months following Griff’s reappearance after a mysterious absence of ten years. Rumors had flown like debris in a hurricane; rumors about where Griff had been and how he had acquired an amazing fortune that matched or exceeded some of the wealthiest men in the country, if not the world. Over a period of a couple of years, Judd and Griff had discovered they had a great deal in common, the least of which was the fact they were considered the two most eligible bachelors in the state. A genuine friendship had formed gradually and eventually reached the point where Judd had considered Griff one of his best friends.