“John, it’s —”
“Jordan, I’m sorry, man, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it.”
Why was John apologizing? Had he gotten it wrong? It couldn’t be — not John. Jordan waited without saying anything, not wanting to tip his hand. The person who talked first always lost. He knew this with a business deal or a confession. He utilized the same techniques to close a sale as he did to prompt a confession.
“Ronny called you, didn’t he?” John blurted the question. “You have to know, Jordan, I would have never acted on anything. I just wanted to talk to Jaynee while she was unconscious. I thought if I could get it off my chest, it would help somehow.”
Jordan squeezed the phone in his hand. “Talk to her? You almost murdered her!” He couldn’t contain himself and was suddenly ashamed for assuming it was Ronny. How could he have been so wrong, how could John? He’d known him practically his entire life. He’d been more of a brother to him than Ronny ever had. “Where are you, you no good —”
“Whoa ... wait ... what? I would never — I love Jaynee. I could never hurt her.”
“But you just said you would never have acted and you were trying to get it off your chest while she was unconscious.”
“What exactly did Ronny tell you?”
“Ronny didn’t tell me anything. You did. You were there the night Jaynee was shot, weren’t you? And then — did Ronny stop you from finishing the job today, John?” His voice seethed with emotion. It was a good thing he wasn’t in front of John. He didn’t know if he could keep himself from killing him.
“So Ronny hasn’t spoken to you?”
“No, he hasn’t.” Jordan couldn’t believe he was having this conversation when he only wanted to slaughter him.
“Crap! If I’m not the largest moron, I don’t know who is.” John exhaled through the phone. “Ronny walked in when I was talking to Jaynee. Admitting to her why I’m always so cold to her. I might as well tell you because Ronny will anyway. I love her, Jordan. I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’ve loved her from the first moment I saw her. I’m sorry, and I swear, man, I never would have come on to her. I just wanted to talk to her. And I would never try to murder her.”
As ridiculous as it sounded, Jordan was relieved. He’d always known how John was, he knew he would step over his dead body to get to Jaynee; he’d even told her that once. He also knew John didn’t love Jaynee; he only wanted whatever Jordan had. Just like when they were kids.
A chuckle actually slipped out over the thought of his friend’s libido. “You are a moron, but not a murderer. I knew better. You and I will deal with this later. Right now there are other more important issues.” Jordan wondered how many men he’d have to battle for his wife. She seemed to bring out the worst in men. He thought about Brian’s defeated look and a smile washed over his face. Jaynee didn’t want any of them; she loved him.
Jordan explained to John what had happened with Ronny.
“Wow,” John said, understanding the confusion. “I’m sure thankful I wasn’t standing in front of you when I made my stupid confession. You would have certainly killed me.”
Jordan sighed. No doubt there. Later, he thought. They had more important business to discuss. “John, I need a favor.”
“Anything. Name it.”
“I need you to go stay with Lorraine. She’s at the hospital in Concord. Ronny may end up there, trying to finish what he started. He knows I won’t let Jaynee out of my sight. I tipped my hat earlier when I had Brian throw him out of Jaynee’s room.”
“Brian? Who’s Brian?”
“Long story ... get to Lorraine now.” Jordan paused before hanging up. “Oh, and, John ... I’m gonna kick your ass when I see you again.”
“I know ... I deserve it,” he said, hanging up.
Of course, it couldn’t have worked out that both women would be at the same hospital. Lorraine was in Concord whereas Jaynee was in Pineville, and it wasn’t very convenient at the moment. Jordan had done everything he could. Now, he just had to wait for Len and his computer. Anxious for every minute now, he rushed back to Jaynee’s room.
When he walked back inside the room, Jaynee was still asleep. His mother stood, offering him the seat beside his wife.
“Mom, why don’t you go home?” He really didn’t like the idea of Nanna being home alone either. “I’m not going anywhere else today.”
“Are you sure, honey? What’s been going on? Why did Brian leave? He looked devastated. I thought maybe something had happened to Jaynee when I saw his face, but then I heard your announcement.”
“It’s a long story, Mom.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “There’s just one thing you need to know, and I know it’s going to sound strange, but you have to trust me.”
Her face was serious, worried at once, but she reined it in. “Of course.”
It went without saying; he knew she trusted him completely. “Don’t let Ronny anywhere near your house or speak to him. If he shows up, get your gun, and then call 911.”
Her eyes revealed that she clearly didn’t understand, but she trusted him. “Okay, Jordan. Please call me if anything changes with Jaynee. I’ll be back tomorrow morning.” She kissed him goodbye and left the room.
Jordan sat down and took Jaynee’s free hand in both of his. As much as he wanted to talk to her, he knew she needed to sleep, especially if she might be pregnant. He wondered how long it would be before they’d know for sure. He hoped the fact that she’d been medicated wouldn’t have any effect on a baby that was days old.
He chastised himself. How could he feel so much joy at a time when there was so much pain? But then he remembered, Lorraine was going to be okay. Jaynee had been awake several times, each time stronger than the last. He was going to be a father, if not now, someday. But more than anything, Jaynee’s love had him wanting to jump for joy. His life had felt over when he thought for even a moment that she could have wanted Brian.
Brian. He felt bad for him. He’d probably saved her life. Who knows what Ronny would have talked his mother into if she’d come alone? He would have to find a way to thank him. But not today. He wasn’t ready to leave Jaynee’s side again. The hospital walls would have to be falling down first, and even then, he wouldn’t leave without her. He wouldn’t leave until he could talk to her again, thank her, and apologize for his assumption. He felt like a schmuck.
Thinking back over the last two months with renewed eyes, he realized she hadn’t been cold. She’d just done everything she could to keep them from having sex. But not one time had she ever uttered a cruel word. She smiled at him constantly, made his favorite meals, and socialized with the family.
How could he have misjudged this? Even when she’d said, This is almost over. He should have known she’d meant school or something else. He would never doubt her again. It wasn’t fair for him to have jumped to a conclusion when she’d never done anything to deserve it. Of course, it wasn’t as if he didn’t trust her. He’d never once before this time thought she would have ever been up to anything.
Even when he was jealous, he never blamed her. It wasn’t her fault she looked so darned good. She didn’t even dress to elicit attention. Rachael dressed like a teenager, always wearing clothes that were low-cut and too short, another thing Ronny used to complain about but didn’t even bother mentioning anymore.
The phone in his pocket buzzed, bringing him out of his thoughts. He pulled it out and looked at the number, John again. He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to answer it. It wasn’t long enough that he could have left the house, let alone retrieved anything new about Lorraine. He must be trying to apologize again. Jordan vacillated, then decided what the heck, he’d let him beg for mercy a little — not that it was going to change anything — he was gonna kick the everlasting crap out of him when this was over. The grief must be eating him up. He clicked the green button and waited for the pleading to begin.
***
John had been pulling on his shoes and jacket when he heard a rap on
the front door.
He didn’t bother checking to see who was at the door. He was in a hurry to get to Lorraine, frantic in his need to see her and make sure she was safe. Opening the door, he saw Ronny standing there, a strange look on his face.
He concealed his shock and opened the door wider. “Hey, what’s up?” He made a conscious effort to smile.
“Business,” Ronny said solemnly, stepping into John’s house.
John closed the door, shoved his hands in his jacket pocket, and curled his hand around his cell phone. Nothing good could come of Ronny showing up here. His fingers deftly found the recall button. He knew where it was, had practiced many times. He hit the send button, knowing it would call the last number called or received — which would be Jordan.
He raised his chin at Ronny, who just stood in his foyer, his hands also in his jacket pockets. “Did something go wrong today?”
“Everything,” Ronny muttered in an irritated voice.
Ronny’s one-word answers were starting to unnerve John. He wished he’d already grabbed his gun. It was resting behind him on the credenza. He wondered if he should make an advance for it.
“But, I think I can make it right,” Ronny continued.
“What are you talking about, Ronny? I was just leaving. Can we talk about this later?” John’s voice elevated an octave, exposing his frustration.
“No!” The one word was menacing and sounded foreign coming out of Ronny’s mouth.
John stepped back within inches of his gun; unfortunately, a second too late, Ronny had already drawn his pistol.
Ronny sneered. “Don’t bother, John. Step away or I’ll shoot you where you stand. I may not be a cop; they never accepted me at the academy, but you know I’m a crack shot.”
John did know this; they’d gone to the range and hunted together many times over the years. He also now understood why the academy hadn’t accepted him into law enforcement. His psyche profile must have indicated instability. “Why are you doing this, Ronny?”
A mocking smile lifted his face. “Whatever do you mean, John? I’m not doing anything ... this is you and Lorraine. Lorraine has pined over Jordan for years, and you’re in love with Jaynee. You both recognize they’ll never leave each other, and you have a gambling problem.” With the gun, Ronny motioned for John to sit at the table. “While consoling each other, you have fallen in love and concocted the perfect scheme to get rid of them, Jaynee by suicide and Jordan by an accidental police shooting. But everything went awry, and your treachery revealed itself. So Lorraine committed suicide and now so will you — just like Romeo and Juliet, how romantic.”
John watched as Ronny’s face transformed into a fierce scowl. He pulled out a prescription bottle with his gloved hand; the label was missing. A wild smirk crossed his face at the look of confusion in John’s eyes.
“Rachael’s sleeping pills. I’ve been heisting a few out of the bottle for months. Of course, they call them sleeping pills, but they’re actually numb pills. You won’t feel a thing ... heck you’ll probably even pull the trigger yourself. Amazing stuff really. My wife,” he spat the words, “will even have sex with me when she’s on them. Obviously, she never remembers and thinks she’s still holding out. Her power trip over me, as if breaking me financially wasn’t enough. She had to take everything. It’s not as if I can’t get sex elsewhere, but it’s sort of fun taking advantage of her when she doesn’t know — a little payback for all the misery.”
John shook his head in disbelief. “You’re sick, Ronny, but it’s not too late.” He questioned whether he should tell him Lorraine was still alive. He figured it was the only way. He hoped Jordan was listening and hadn’t just let the call go to voicemail. “Listen, Ronny, it’s not too late. No one is dead; you can still get out of this with minimal jail time. Jaynee’s awake, and Lorraine has pulled through. They’ll both know it was you. You won’t be able to get to them before Jordan takes you down.”
A half-laugh half-huff burst out of Ronny’s mouth. “They won’t consider me a suspect. Everyone knows it’s you, John. Don’t you remember Jaynee’s face as you confessed your feelings?”
John winced at the memory, but he knew Jordan knew differently.
Ronny’s lips were in a straight line as he shook his head. “And you call me sick? You’re supposed to be his best friend, and yet, you coveted his wife and tried to get him drunk and make him believe she was cheating on him. If that didn’t beat all ... calling Lorraine and letting her know he was drunk and telling her to call him. And you say I’m sick?”
John’s chin dropped to his chest; he was sick. What had he been thinking? How could he have done that to Jordan? Now he wondered if he did want him to be listening. Jordan hadn’t realized he was the one who’d told Lorraine to call after he’d gotten him drunk.
“You’re right, Ronny, I am sick, more like delusional, both of us are. Jordan has been nothing but generous to both of us, and I coveted his wife, and you tried to murder her. I don’t need your help ... I should want to kill myself. Do you mind if I have a drink? I don’t need sleeping pills.”
Ronny smiled at this revelation. “Go ahead. I’ll have one too if you don’t mind.”
How amiably they were discussing murder and suicide over a drink. John just hoped it would be enough time. He knew Ronny would want him to use his own gun. If he could talk Ronny into letting him get drunk first, maybe he could buy some time until Jordan could send help.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jordan heard nothing but silence on the other line.
John must have hit the recall button by accident. This should be interesting. It would give him something to do while he waited for Jaynee to wake up again. He hoped John talked to himself, as he did when he was in the car sometimes.
It was hard to make out anything from John’s line, mostly just muffled sounds of John’s voice, but then he realized there were two voices.
He turned up the cell phone volume the highest it would go and heard Ronny’s voice, “Have a seat, John!”
Jordan burst out of his chair, sprinting from the room to the waiting area with the courtesy phone. He didn’t know Len’s number. He’d been connected to him on the first call, and though Len returned his call, he wasn’t about to hang up and redial. He pressed the mute button on the cell phone, picked up the courtesy phone, and dialed 911. He had to argue with the operator this time that not only did she need to send police to John’s house, but she also needed to connect him with Detective Powe. Jordan gave her his badge number and position as before and held the line for what seemed like forever. He heard Ronny’s confession, how he planned to take care of everything.
Finally, Len came on the line. “What’s up, Jordan? I just got to your office. No one was here, so I —”
“He’s at John’s place,” Jordan burst out, interrupting him. “I only heard part of what was going on, but Ronny said something about John would want to pull the trigger himself. I wasn’t thinking straight, Len. I told the dispatcher to send black and whites; no telling what he’ll do if he hears ’em.”
“I’ll call and have them standing by. I’ve got John’s address in my computer. He still off Albemarle Road?”
“Yeah. I’m right behind you,” Jordan blurted out before Len could hang up.
“No, Jordan! This is not your division, and I don’t need you going off on either of them. Move from there and I’ll have you arrested myself.”
As much as Jordan didn’t want to concede, he knew he had to follow his order. Besides, how could he ever face Rachael if things turned badly, and he was the one to pull the trigger?
Jordan darted back to Jaynee’s room, plopped down, and dropped his head back against the cool vinyl chair. Would this day ever end?
He listened to John’s request for a drink. They were just gonna sit there like old friends. John was smart; he knew Ronny would want to make his death look as if he’d gotten wasted and committed suicide. He’d be willing to draw it out. John hadn’t
tipped his hand entirely. Now Jordan would have to wait and listen, and pray he didn’t hear something he didn’t want to.
No conversation could be heard, only the echo of glasses clinking. Were they toasting? How deranged. Lorraine’s phone chimed the melody Jordan knew would come eventually. It was dying; he’d been on it all morning.
How long would Ronny wait, Jordan wondered? Quiet muffles and chuckling filled the background. Were they telling stories? John was trying to sidetrack him as long as possible, it seemed.
“Jordan?” Jaynee’s voice, barely a whisper, broke him from concentrating on their conversation.
His gaze leveled on her. “Yes, love?” He took her hand in his as moisture filled his eyes again.
As bad as this day was, in some ways it was also the happiest day of his life. Jaynee was going to be okay, he was sure. And nothing was more important to him now or ever. It was irrelevant if she was pregnant or if she ever became pregnant or if she ever stopped loving him — not that that seemed likely. All that mattered or would ever matter was that she was safe, and he would never stop loving her. He heard the final chord of the phone as it died. He groaned. There was nothing he could do.
Her eyebrows pulled together, and she winced at the pain. “Is everything okay? Are you all right?”
Jordan reached to her face, soothing her forehead.
“Everything is now, Jaynee. I love you so much. Can I kiss you, or will that hurt?”
“Please,” she whispered.
He leaned over her and kissed her as delicately as if she were spun glass, his lips moving softly over her cheekbones. “Oh, God, I love you,” he murmured through kisses. “I missed you so much.” His lips continued along her jaw. “And then this happened. I truly believed I was going to die. I would have — if something had happened to you — you’re my life, Jaynee.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“Don’t apologize. I’m the one who jumped to horrible conclusions. I feel awful, how could I — what was I thinking? You didn’t do anything.” He choked on the awful feelings. How could he have been so ignorant? “You never did anything, and I yelled at you. I got drunk ... and almost ...” he trailed off, hanging his head, not wanting to admit his weakness.
Southern Romantic-Suspense Boxed Set (Southern Romantic-Suspense Novel Book 0) Page 32
