by Joanna Wayne
A noise rumbled in her head, like a door slamming shut. Butch stiffened. Balancing the needle on his leg, he reached into the holster at his side and hoisted his revolver.
“Jodie!” The voice boomed through the house.
Ray. But it couldn’t be. He was in New Orleans, running away from her, from his sons.
He called her name again, and then she heard his footsteps on the stairs. The gun in Butch’s hand was pointed toward the door.
She forced air into her burning lungs and screamed. “He has a gun! Don’t come up here!”
She felt Butch’s hand before she saw it, slamming her against the wall. And then she felt the needle, piercing the skin, stinging. She fought to push it away. Strength surged inside her, an explosion in her chest.
She jerked her knee, hard, landing a blow into Butch’s crotch just as a fireplace log came flying through the open door. Butch fell backward, firing the gun as he did. Bullets sprayed the room, ricocheting like marbles.
But she was free. With one hand she jerked the needle from her arm, hurling it towards Butch as he reloaded. It missed its mark, crashing against the wall. The glass splintered and the remaining drug seeped onto the floor.
Her chest was caving in from pressure now, but she forced her body to move. Grabbing the vase, she lifted it high above her head and brought it down with killing force.
Water and shards of broken glass sprayed the room as Butch sank to the floor. She fell on top of him, pounding her fists into his chest.
“How could you kill Max? How could you kill Gloria? How could you? How could you?”
Tears fell like rain from her eyes, and her heart beat so fast she thought it would burst from her chest, but she couldn’t stop.
Her heart was still racing when Ray gathered her in his arms and held her close. It was still racing when he rocked her to him, his voice so shaky that for a minute she thought one of the bullets had found its target.
It was still racing when he wiped the tears from her eyes and placed a long, warm kiss on her lips.
It was then that she noticed they were not alone. Two policemen stood in the door, guns drawn, staring at them.
“Did you shoot him?”
“No, I didn’t have to,” Ray answered. “Jodie knocked him out cold.”
“Looks like your suspicions were right,” the other officer said, his gaze taking in the sight of vases of roses and half-burned candles.
“Looks like it.” Ray led Jodie past the body and the officer who was leaning over it. “Now, it’s in your hands. I’m getting the bravest little mother in the parish out of here.”
JODIE SAT on the back porch, leafing through the information from the advertising firm where she had worked in New York. One of her clients had a debut product he wanted to introduce to the world of consumers. He’d liked her work in the past and he’d asked for her specifically this time, even if it meant conducting business via electronic means.
It was the perfect opportunity. She could be here with Grams and work her schedule around Blake and Blair. Surround herself with their love while she worked through a heartache that might never heal.
Ray had walked out of her life, the same way he had done before. Completely. No thanks for the memories. Not even a proper farewell between him and his sons.
He’d stayed with her all night after the fateful meeting that led to Butch’s arrest. He’d taken her to the hospital and then held her while the epinephrine Butch had injected into her veins ran its course. Cradled her body against his while her heart rate had slowed to normal.
The next afternoon, he’d left for New Orleans to take care of an emergency he said he had to deal with personally. He’d promised to call.
That had been seven long nights ago.
At first she’d taken him at his word, the same way she’d done when he walked out of her apartment two years ago in New York City.
Once again she’d jumped at every ring of the phone, run to the window whenever a car stopped outside, waited up every night for some word. Only this time she didn’t phone him. He knew what she wanted. He knew she loved him. It was his call.
If he chose to have no part of her and their sons, she’d swallow the pain, cry her tears in the loneliness of night, heal the jagged edges of her broken heart with love for her boys.
She’d be mother and father to them, surround them with so much love they’d never miss having a father. And she wouldn’t miss him, either.
A tear stung at the back of her eye. She fought but couldn’t stop it from escaping to roll down her cheek. One day she wouldn’t miss Ray Kostner. Maybe, if she lived long enough, but who lived to be a thousand?
Grams opened the back door and joined her on the back porch. Selda followed a step behind, a plate of cookies warm from the oven in hand.
“I hope we’re not interrupting anything,” Selda said.
“Not a thing.”
“Good. Greg filled me in on some details, especially the ones concerning how Butch tried to frame him. I thought he’d leave town as soon as he got out of jail, but he’s still here and he’s still snapping pictures. Now I’d like to hear the rest of the story, if you feel like talking about it. Like how Ray Kostner ended up at the Coxlin place at just the right time.”
“Apparently he changed his mind about flying to New Orleans that day,” Jodie said, retelling the story she’d already shared several times with Grams. “He talked to the detective from the NYPD while he was driving back to Natchitoches for the Festival of Lights. That’s when he got the idea that Butch was my stalker. Another call, this one to the local chief of police convinced him his hunch was right. Butch was one of the officers who had been in New York this summer for some special training.”
“Then Ray Kostner went right straight to Butch’s house,” Grams added. “He lives on an acre or so just north of Highway 6, so he could get there even with the parades going on and traffic blocked all over town.”
“But obviously Butch wasn’t there. I saw him at Lydia’s not long before that,” Selda said.
“No, but Ray took a page from Butch’s handbook,” Jodie said. “He let himself in. There were a number of prescription drugs in the house, enough to ride an emotional roller-coaster wave for days. Evidently, Butch kept his problems a secret around Natchitoches. He saw doctors in Shreveport, Alexandria and even Longview, Texas to get the drugs that either kept him sane or drove him crazy. The jury is still out on that.”
“I didn’t know it was that easy to get drugs.”
“I don’t think it is, Selda, at least not around here where people know him. But he had found ways. Apparently he’s had psychological problems ever since high school. They escalated when his mother died and again when his wife ran off with another man. That was the year he killed the first woman.”
“And he confessed all of this?”
“No. Most of it the local police have discovered since his arrest. He has admitted to killing six people in all, though.”
“Most of them with medicine from the insect bite kits Ray found in his house,” Grams added, her memory doing an amazing job of remembering the details.
“I’m still not sure how the insect bite kits fit in with all of this.” Selda passed the plate of cookies around and took one herself, biting into it and wiping away the crumbs that fell into her lap.
“The kits contain small amounts of epinephrine. That’s the medical term for adrenaline in drug form. Butch took the medication from several kits, until he had enough in the syringe to cause a heart attack.”
“You are lucky to be alive.”
“I am. I wouldn’t be if Ray hadn’t shown up when he did.”
“Ray?” Grams scratched her head. “Did I tell you he called yesterday while you and the boys were at the park?”
Her heart did a flip-flop. “No. What did he say?”
“That he’d be picking you up this afternoon at three. Said he had something to show you.”
“Probably a ring,” Selda
mused. “That boy’s so sweet on you, he lights up like one of those Christmas light displays every time you walk into the room.”
Warmth spread through Jodie like wildfire. Ray had called. He was coming back to her. She glanced at her watch. Five before three. She ran trembling fingers through her hair, a useless attempt to tame it.
Punctual for the first time Jodie could remember, he rounded the corner of the porch at precisely three o’clock, as always opting for the back door. He hugged Grams and Selda and stopped beside her. She was already on her feet, but he pulled her into his arms, holding her extra tight and kissing her full on the mouth. Not overly passionate, not in front of company, but enough to know that she sure had been kissed.
“Did you miss me?” he asked, his lips curled in a devastating smile.
“Have you been gone?”
He faked a wince of pain and turned to Grams and Selda. “May I steal my woman away? I promise to have her back in an hour.”
My woman. The words danced inside her. “I can’t leave now. The boys are asleep.”
“We’ll watch them,” Selda said, winking at Ray. “Even if you’re gone more than an hour.”
Ray led her to the Porsche, opening the door for her, bending to kiss her again.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
“You’ll like this one. At least I hope you do.”
He drove a few blocks east and then cut back toward the river, turning down a street shaded by towering oaks. It was an older section of town, with big houses, neatly groomed with wraparound porches and charming gables.
He pulled up and parked in the winding drive of one that sported a new coat of paint.
“Who lives here?” Jodie asked, lowering the car window.
“That’s what I want to talk to you about I’m not good at this, Jodie. I’ve never done it before. But I think beneath that magnolia tree would be a good spot.”
He climbed from under the steering wheel and darted around the car and to her door. Hand in hand he led her to a spongy carpet of damp leaves.
“Jodie Gahagen.” His voice was husky with emotion. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my live with you and with our sons.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“You don’t have to answer this second.”
“Yes.”
“I know my track record isn’t too good.”
“Yes, Ray.”
“But I’ll work on improving it.”
She put her finger over his lips. “I said, yes, Ray. I’ll marry you.”
He swept her into his arms, twirling her around and around until they were both drunk with movement and love. Leaning against the tree for support, he fished in his pocket. “It’s here somewhere.” A second later he came up with a jewelry box. He lifted the lid and pulled out a ring, a band of gold with one twinkling diamond in the center. Holding her hand, he slipped the ring on her finger.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Is that why you’re crying?”
“I’m not crying.”
He took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the tears running down her cheeks. “One more thing,” he said, swinging his hand in the direction of the house. “What do you think?”
“About what?”
“The house. It has a perfect tree in the backyard for hanging swings, and there’s lots of room for sandboxes and playing catch. I could put a basketball goal over the garage. When the boys are older, I mean.”
Jodie put a hand to her temples to stop the whirling in her brain. “You’re going too fast.”
“I know. You said all or nothing. I want it all. I’ve already put a down payment on the house, but I can get out of it if you don’t like it.”
“But your job is in New Orleans.”
“Not anymore. I gave notice today. I’m going into practice with my dad. Maybe not forever, but for now. I’d like to get to know him while I still can. I’d like our sons to know their grandparents and their Grams.”
“You don’t have to do this, Ray. I love you. I’d live with you in New Orleans. As long as we love each other, any place we live will be home.”
“1 know. And I may want to move back to New Orleans some day, but, for now, I’d like to be here in Natchitoches. I want to have time to spend watching my sons grow. Maybe a daughter or two as well. I want to be a real husband and father. I wouldn’t be able to do that in the demanding position I just left.”
“I love you,” she said, her voice catching on the words that sprang from her heart.
He leaned close, touching his lips to hers. He kissed her long and hard, their breaths mingling, the passion inside her bubbling like champagne.
“Now, would you like to look at the house?”
“Yes.” She left him behind, running up the walk.
“Wait, I have to carry you over the threshold.”
He did, kissing her again in the process.
“I already love it,” she said. “Where’s the bedroom?”
“Since when did you ever need a bedroom?”
She stuck out her tongue and took off at a run, taking the steps two at a time. He caught up with her at the top of the landing, wrapping his arms around her.
They dissolved in a flurry of laughter and a wellspring of love. It was a long time later before they continued the tour and finally made it to the bedroom of a house they’d already christened with their love.
Head Down Under for twelve tales of heated romance in beautiful and untamed Australia!
Here’s a sneak preview of the first novel in THE AUSTRALIANS
Outback Heat by Emma Darcy available July 1998
‘HAVE I DONE something wrong?’ Angie persisted, wishing Taylor would emit a sense of camaraderie instead of holding an impenetrable reserve.
‘Not at all,’ he assured her. ‘I would say a lot of things right. You seem to be fitting into our little Outback community very well. I’ve heard only good things about you.’
‘They’re nice people,’ she said sincerely. Only the Maguire family kept her shut out of their hearts.
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘Though I appreciate it’s taken considerable effort from you. It is a world away from what you’re used to.’
The control Angie had been exerting over her feelings snapped. He wasn’t as blatant as his aunt in his prejudice against her but she’d felt it coming through every word he’d spoken and she didn’t deserve any of it.
‘Don’t judge me by your wife!’
His jaw jerked. A flicker of some dark emotion destroyed the steady power of his probing gaze.
‘No two people are the same. If you don’t know that, you’re a man of very limited vision. So I come from the city as your wife did! That doesn’t stop me from being an individual in my own right.’
She straightened up, proudly defiant, furiously angry with the situation. ‘I’m me. Angie Cordell. And it’s time you took the blinkers off your eyes, Taylor Maguire.’ Then she whirled away from him, too agitated by the explosive expulsion of her emotion to keep facing him.
The storm outside hadn’t yet eased. There was nowhere to go. She stopped at the window, staring blindly at the torrential rain. The thundering on the roof was almost deafening but it wasn’t as loud as the silence behind her.
‘You want me to go, don’t you? You’ve given me a month’s respite and now you want me to leave and channel my energies somewhere else.’
‘I didn’t say that, Angie.’
‘You were working your way around it.’ Bitterness at his tactics spewed the suspicion. ‘Do you have your first choice of governess waiting in the wings?’
‘No. I said I’d give you a chance.’
‘Have you?’ She swung around to face him. ‘Have you really, Taylor?’
He hadn’t moved. He didn’t move now except to make a gesture of appeasement ‘Angie, I was merely trying to ascertain how you felt.’
‘The
n let me tell you your cynicism was shining through every word.’
He frowned, shook his head. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’ The blue eyes fastened on hers with devastating sincerity. ‘I truly did not come in here to take you down or suggest you leave.’
Her heart jiggled painfully. He might be speaking the truth but the judgements were still there, the judgements that ruled his attitude towards her, that kept her shut out of his life, denied any real sharing with him, denied his confidence and trust. She didn’t know why it meant so much to her but it did. It did. And the need to fight for justice from him was as much a raging torrent inside her as the rain outside.
eISBN 978-14592-6163-1
JODIE’S LITTLE SECRETS
Copyright © 1998 by Jo Ann Vest
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
Printed In U.S.A.
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Table of Contents
Excerpt
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
