Losing Ladd

by Dianne Venetta

  “I’m not going to jail,” he snarled. “That punk Parker kid is.”

  “Don’t think so. Not with Delaney up and around and ready to testify against you.”

  Surprise lit up in both Jack and Jillian’s expressions.

  “That’s right,” Nick said, flicking an insulting glance toward Jillian. “Delaney is only too ready to put your butt behind bars where it belongs.”

  Jack didn’t back down but he didn’t rebut. Jillian did. “Too bad,” she said to Nick, pushing out her glossy lips. “She really is a waste on your time and energy.”

  “Keep it up Jillian,” Nick warned. “Keep poking until I bite, because when I do, it’s going to hurt. Really hurt.” He leaned down and came to within inches of her face. “I know you had something to do with the fire. It has your fingerprints written all over it. And when I figure it out, I won’t stop until I see you in prison right along with your boyfriend, here.” Straightening to his full six-foot-four stature, Nick taunted, “Oh, wait. There won’t be any men where you’re going. Only big, mean women who would love to get their hands on the likes of you.”

  A flash of horror graced her face before she revived the nasty beast within, retorting, “You will never have the pleasure, amorzhino. I am not going anywhere near a prison.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that. Jeremiah’s in custody and will start singing like a canary. Bet your name comes up.”

  Jack locked onto Jillian. “What’s he talking about?”

  Ignoring him, she replied smugly, “I have admirers everywhere, you know that. It means nothing.”

  Jack grew more agitated by the second. Aiming all barrels at Jillian he repeated, “What the hell’s going on? What’s Jeremiah in jail for?”

  Cal chuckled under his breath, amused by his brother’s complete and total shock. Seems Jack might have been nurturing a real affection for the woman, a woman who clearly didn’t return the sentiment. Nick might be onto something, putting her and Jeremiah together. It was his cell phone they used to detonate the bomb. Fire was her specialty. “Haven’t you heard?” Cal asked his brother. “Jeremiah and the Ladd boys have been up to their old tricks.”

  Jack looked as if he’d been sucker-punched. “The Ladd boys? Robby and Billy?”

  “You betcha,” Cal replied. At least Jack had been smart enough to avoid getting wrapped up with Jeremiah and those boys, though Jillian made up for the three of them and then some.

  “That’s right, Jillian,” Nick added. “Seems the explosive device was detonated with Jeremiah’s phone. Any idea why that might be?”

  She tilted up her face. “None.”

  Nick crossed arms over his chest, staring down at her with a wry smile. “Guess we’ll see what the police come up with, huh?” She simply smirked in response. “Oh, and don’t go anywhere,” he added, his smile gaining steam. “The police will surely want to question you at length.”

  The lobby door opened and Officer Griffin breezed in, stopping cold. The sight of Jillian Devane had lassoed his complete attention. Kicking into gear, he marched over and said, “Ms. Devane. Glad to see you’re still here.” She glared at him, all pretense of politeness extinguished as he said, “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “See.” Nick leaned down and murmured close to her ear, “Told you so.”

  “What do you want, Detective? I believe I’ve already spoken with you regarding my whereabouts on the night in question.”

  “Yes, yes you did and your alibi checks out. The boy at the bar said you were with him all evening. Jeremiah said you were with him the next night, and that’s when he lost his cell phone.”

  Jack stepped away from her, drawing an unmistakable line of separation between the two for the officer to take note. Jillian brushed a haughty glance over Jack and replied thinly, “It is not a crime to enjoy the company of men, nor is it a crime to enjoy a stupid man.”

  Officer Griffin cocked his head and pursed his lips. “That might be so, but there’s something else. We found scraps of a bag at the site of the explosion. A fancy bag.” He looked at the leather purse slung over her shoulder. It was a name brand designer style. “Kinda like the one you’re carrying now.”

  Pulling the bag more snugly against her body, Jillian replied, “That proves nothing. Many people carry a bag exactly like this one.”

  He smiled, nodded cordially. “Cost a pretty penny from what I understand.” Officer Griffin ran his tongue over his teeth, then smacked his lips. “Yep. So expensive, they tag them with serial numbers.” He looked Jillian square in the eye and asked, “Did you know that?”

  She said nothing, simply stared at him. “Yeah, seems they register the serial numbers at time of purchase. So you know it’s not a fake.” With a roll of his eyes, he said, “Well, I’ve never heard of such a thing. You know, we don’t have much of a market for those fancy bags around here, but they do in Chattanooga. Seems you recently purchased a purse in a mall over there.”

  Nick, Malcolm and Cal turned their eye on to Jillian. Wasn’t that interesting?

  “Now why would you do that when you already have a nice purse?”

  Jillian laughed. “I have hundreds of purses, Officer. I buy them like you buy your French fries.” Touching her gaze to his oversized midsection, she added, “But then we all have our addictions, don’t we?”

  “So you won’t mind going to your room to get the purse in question? It’s brown leather material, unlike the black one you’re holding there.”

  She stilled, drawing her black purse close. Amber eyes heated as they sharpened on Officer Griffin. Jillian held him in her gaze, as though she were hypnotizing him into submission, before she replied coolly, “Of course. It is no problem at all.”

  “Wonder if it’s the same purse you were carrying when you paid Delaney that little visit the day before the fire?” Nick posed, his pleasure barely concealed.

  Cal fully expected claws to flash from Jillian’s fingertips and slash the skin from Nick’s face.

  “I’m leaving,” Jack announced, heading for the door without awaiting a response.

  Noting the utter loathing in his brother’s gaze as he took stock of the group, Cal chimed in, “I’ve got a few things I need to do myself.”

  There was nothing more for him to do here. Nick would see that Jillian followed instructions. Malcolm would manage the hotel, freeing him to seek out Troy and deliver the good news. Good news Cal couldn’t wait to share. Catching the door from his brother’s exit, he said, “Don’t go anywhere, Jack. We plan on pursuing trial as scheduled.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Felicity remained a fixture by Travis’ bedside. Leaning back in the hard-cushioned chair, she stared at Travis’ inert figure outlined beneath the thin white blanket. The breathing apparatus had been removed, but the tubes in his arm remained. A feeding tube. Because Travis wasn’t able to eat for himself. He was still considered critical. Stable, but critical. Felicity didn’t care much about the terminology of his condition. She only cared that he was alive and going to get better.

  Waiting for him to regain consciousness was the hardest. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, so many things she wanted to share. The horse that had been hurt during the stampede was doing well, the one burned in the fire was on the mend. Hotel Ladd’s veterinarian had been ministering to the animal since the blaze, asserting his wounds would leave scars, but they’d heal. Anger pricked at her heart. Because a selfish woman had it out for Nick and her mother.

  “Felicity?”

  The feather voice cut through her reverie. Felicity bolted forward. “Travis?”

  His eyes were closed. Long brown lashes fluttered softly against his lightly tanned skin. “Felicity...” he breathed the word. “Felicity.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes as she reached for his upper arm. “Travis, it’s me. I’m here,” she replied eagerly.

  He offered a subtle nod of his head. Did he know where he was? Did he remember what happened? How close h
e’d come to dying?

  For her. On her behalf. Travis almost lost his life because, once again, he’d stepped in to protect her. “Travis, can you hear me?”

  Nodding slightly, he turned his head toward her.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Hurt.”

  A lot, she wondered? Was he in severe pain? Did he need medicine? Should she call for someone? Thoughts and fears tumbled over one another as she watched him open his eyes.

  “Travis,” she murmured, clamping her palm around his arm.

  Concentrating on her face, he seemed to struggle to get her in focus. “Felicity. You’re okay.”

  She drew back. Travis was worried about her? Did he not know what happened?

  “I’m so glad...” Travis closed his eyes and her heart stopped.

  She squeezed his arm. “Travis.”

  He smiled, opened his eyes again. “I was so worried about you,” he said drowsily.

  “I’m okay. I’m totally okay. How are you?”

  Reaching down, she laced her fingers through his, closing her hand over his. “Do you need pain medicine?”

  “Nah.”

  Felicity was disturbed by his slow speech but reassured herself it was normal. He’d been shot, he was worn out from the surgery. The doctor said his recovery would take some time. Patience. But Felicity didn’t have any more patience! She wanted him well and she wanted it now. “Have you seen your parents?” she asked, giving him space to regain his strength. She knew they had but wanted to see if he remembered. “They’ve been here the whole time.”

  “Yeah... My mom was cryin’.”

  Of course she was! You can’t see yourself. You look awful, horrible. Felicity completely understood why his mother would break down and cry. She couldn’t stand to see Travis this way either. His strong body was motionless, draped in a pajama-like gown, his chest beneath covered in gauze. Felicity feared to touch him. A guy who was strong and muscular, yet she feared she’d hurt him somehow. Brushing building tears from her eyes, Felicity forced tears from her eyes. She wanted to be the strong one. She wanted to be brave for Travis like he’d been for her. “Do you remember what happened?”

  “Jeremiah shot me.”

  Felicity gulped. Blunt. Straight to the point. “Yes. Do you remember why?”

  The spirit returned to his dark eyes, thrashed within the depths of brown. “He was trying to get you into his truck. He...and those other guys.”

  Relieved to hear the old Travis rearing up, she nodded. “The Ladd boys. Those men were Albert’s sons.”

  His gaze leapt. “Albert’s?”

  “Yes. It looks like they’re the ones who sent Jeremiah the money to get out of jail.”

  “Fifty thousand dollars?”

  Travis flinched and her heart kicked. She squeezed his hand. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” he murmured willfully. “They traced the wire then?”

  “Jeremiah confessed. Said the boys robbed a bank in North Carolina to pay the money. The police are checking into it now.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Gold.” Felicity slumped at the mention. Finding gold on the property had brought nothing but trouble to them since the day they discovered it. “Jeremiah told the men there was gold on the property and they could share in it. He’d show them where it was so long as they bailed him out.”

  “And they did it?”

  “Guess they’re not very bright.” That, or greed made people do terrible things. Felicity recalled Clem Sweeney and his attempt on her mother’s life over the gold. Jeremiah caused trouble the last time he was in town for the very same reason, including threatening Uncle Ernie’s life. Riled by the thoughts, Felicity shoved them aside. Clem was in jail. Jeremiah was in jail. Her mother and Travis were safe.

  “What about your father?” Travis asked.

  The question stirred mixed feelings. “He’s not responsible for the fire,” she said, assuming that’s what Travis was after. She’d been wrong about him. According to Nick, it had been Jillian all along. Travis thought Jeremiah had had something to do with it but it didn’t look like it. His phone had been used, but Nick believed Jillian stole it to make the call and then got rid of it somehow. They were still looking for it in hopes of gathering more evidence against her. Seems she really had it out for Nick and her mom.

  Breathing in deeply, Felicity spewed a sigh. Guess they were both wrong. Curling her hands around the fleshy palm of Travis’ thumb, she squeezed gently. “Jillian is the one who set off the explosion in the stables that caused the fire. They arrested her at the hotel, but Nick says it’s going to be a long-drawn-out battle now that her lawyers have been called in.” Lawyers. She rested her gaze on Travis, his boyish face and sweet brown eyes. He was going to be a lawyer someday. A lawyer who fought to protect the innocent and not the guilty—like her father and Jillian. “There is good news where my father’s concerned. He’s dropped the charges against Troy.”

  “He did?”

  Felicity nodded, disturbed by the sudden increase in rhythm on the monitor above. Darting her gaze between machines and man, she wondered, was she saying too much? But this was good news they were discussing. It couldn’t be bad for him, could it?

  “Why would he drop the charges?” Travis asked.

  “Somehow Cal convinced his mother to stop supporting him in his vendetta, and Nick said without her support, my father has no chance of getting Troy put in jail. Who, by the way, has his job back at the hotel,” she added brightly, wondering how Travis would feel about it.

  “Good. He deserves it.”

  Floored by his response, she ventured, “Really? You really mean that?”

  Settling on her, Travis slid his gaze down toward their clasped hands. He rubbed the side of his thumb back and forth across her fingers. “Whatever you might think of me, I don’t hate my brother. We have our differences...but I don’t hate him. He never deserved to go to jail for something he didn’t do.”

  “But you agreed with your parents. You said it was good to teach him a lesson and let him sit in jail.”

  Travis sighed, taking a minute before saying, “I still do. But Troy’s a tough kid. One night in jail wasn’t gonna hurt him. It was to give him time to think. Hit the reset button.”

  Surprised by the revelation, Felicity mulled over his words. She couldn’t exactly disagree with him. It was true. Troy was tough. He didn’t take crap from anyone, didn’t turn away from danger. She recalled how he pulled her and Blue from the stables. The fire was blazing around them yet he didn’t hesitate. Troy grabbed her, grabbed her horse and hauled them both outside to safety. Peering at Travis, she realized he’d done the same. He went in after the horses. He’d been on his way to Blue when she called out his name, but then detoured when he saw her mom was in trouble. When a burning rafter fell, almost hitting her, he’d pushed her out of the way and carried her out to safety.

  Thinking back, Travis and Troy were more similar than she’d realized. Twins, brothers, they were kindred spirits. Their temperaments varied, as did their style, but their hearts were one and the same. Always had been.

  “I never thanked you for saving my mom.”

  “No need.”

  His modesty tugged at her heart. They both knew otherwise. Without Travis’ heroic efforts, her mom might not be alive today. But that was Travis. Strong and brave. Priceless. “I’m sorry for what I said, the way I acted,” she said, the words spilling out of her control. “I didn’t mean it. I picked the right one. I never wanted Troy over you. I always wanted you.”

  Hurt washed through his gaze. Had she said too much? The wrong thing? She didn’t mean to. She wanted to say everything right, make everything right.

  She dropped her head forward. “Travis, I’m sorry for getting mad at you. I was wrong.”

  For a moment, nothing moved between them. Above, monitors recorded the beat of his heart, machines beeped, fluid dripped from a bag into a tube in his arm. Sitting in silence, Fe
licity felt trapped by her confession. Humbled by circumstance. She’d never meant to hurt Travis. He’d always been the brother she’d wanted. Since the day the three entered high school, she’d known. He and Troy had fought over her and she enjoyed it. They’d made declaration after declaration, vied for her attention, swore their undying devotion, but Felicity had always known. She’d never loved Troy. Her heart had always belonged to Travis. The heart-shaped pendant at her breast represented that promise. Felicity and Travis. Forever.

  It had only been since college that things changed. Only since his rigid ideology stepped between them had she doubted her feelings for him. Travis was so set on his path, so determined that his way of doing things was the right way and everyone else was wrong. When Troy announced he wasn’t going to college last summer, Travis came undone. He’d lost it. He’d been mean and it was a side to him she’d never seen before.

  Of course Troy followed suit with a slew of his own ugly words, and she found herself torn between them. Then Casey entered the picture and the whole thing blew up in Felicity’s face. She’d never been friends with Casey during school, but when it was proven she was family, all that changed. Casey was blood. Her mother had her split the property and encouraged her to start fresh. Felicity did and the two became fast friends. When Casey and Troy became an item, Felicity had sided with them against Travis because of his unyielding stance against them. Strangely, the idea felt shameful to her now. Like she’d dumped Travis and took up for Troy.

  Honing in on him, his reserve, Felicity thought it felt shameful because it was. “I’m sorry, Travis. I haven’t been a very good girlfriend.”

  “That’s not true,” he said and a sadness swamped his gaze. “I was wrong to push. You were right to tell me to back off. Put a cork in it,” he added sheepishly.

  Shocked by his recall, she remembered the day well. Drifting through the past, she revisited the afternoon. They’d been riding along the river and she wanted him to stop insulting Troy, wanted him to accept his brother’s choices, no matter what. But Travis refused, instead comparing Troy to her father. They’d both quit their jobs, made choices by the spit of their temper. Felicity had been trying to see the good in people while Travis was stomping out her sunshine.