Thirty-Five and a Half Conspiracies
Page 114

“Among other things.”
Under any other circumstances, I would have thought he meant my clothing, but I was fairly certain that he meant my identity.
“Ah …” he murmured after several moments passed. “That’s what I thought.”
I nearly said the code word, but I suddenly thought of another tactic. “You think I’m being dishonest with you. Who exactly do you think I am?”
“I think you’re Malcolm’s whore and he’s sent you in here as a sacrifice to set up his revenge.” His eyes hardened. “He knows I’m coming for him, and that boy’s not smart enough to tuck tail and run. So you’re here to string me along, and Malcolm’s going to come in for the finale.”
I slowly lifted my hand to my head, took my hat off, and tossed it to the floor. “No veil now, J.R. Just me.” I lifted my chin. “And I’m not Skeeter Malcolm’s whore.” My voice hardened. “I’m no one’s whore. The God’s honest truth is that I’m here of my own free will, but you wouldn’t know anything about God, would you? You think you’re a god in your own right.”
Recognition flashed in his eyes. “This is a surprise, and those are so rare these days.”
He knew who I was. Well, he was in for a bigger surprise. I wasn’t the timid woman he’d met at his house five months ago. “No, I suppose it’s difficult to be surprised when you’re so busy orchestrating so many people’s lives.”
He laughed. “You’re right. I am a god.”
“I guess you are, aren’t you? You hold the power of life and death in your hands. How many people have you killed?”
He grinned. “Countless.” He looked around. “And I’m going to kill her too, Malcolm, so you better get in here before I get to work.”
I shook my head. “I already told you that he didn’t send me. Last I heard, he took off to try and find Pete Mooney so he’d confess to killing that little boy for you.”
“Malcolm’s a wimp. It was an easy job. Anybody could hold a kid’s head underwater.”
My stomach churned. “If it was so easy, why didn’t you do it yourself?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I did.”
“What?”
“I lost two men to that job, so I went and did it myself. I was running out of time.”
“So you brought Mason here to torment Malcolm, but why are you trying to kill him? Why kidnap me last night, then plan to kill me?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t. I had no part in that, but I have to say I do enjoy watching people suffer. Whoever’s orchestrating that scheme is brilliant. If it had been left up to me, I would have sent you to prison. It would have been an effective lesson for my son and Deveraux. There was no way you were going to get out of those trumped-up charges. I paid too many people to make sure that didn’t happen.”
Had Kate orchestrated my kidnapping on her own? Or was it someone else entirely?
But my momentary shock was all the time he needed. Before I realized he was moving, he had reached the island and was grabbing his knife. In a quick move, I pulled the gun out of the elastic band on my leg.
I took several steps back, pointing the gun at him.
He grinned, and his eyes sparkled with excitement. He was loving every minute of this. “You won’t shoot me.”
“You’re wrong. I’ve shot men before.”
In my peripheral vision, I saw movement at the back of the house. I nearly fell over when I saw Joe walk in through back door. He had on jeans and a solid green T-shirt under his winter jacket, and he looked like he was ready to kill someone. Did that mean he was here to help his father, or was he here as the chief deputy sheriff?
But it had distracted me enough to give J.R. time to lunge for me, slashing with his knife. Pain tore through my upper arm, but I remained upright, managing to keep from tripping over Mick Gentry’s body.
“Dad!” Joe shouted, pointing a gun at his father. “Drop it!”
J.R. stepped over the body and grabbed my injured arm, making me cry out in pain. He pulled my back against his chest and held the knife to my throat.
Mason appeared in the back door, shoving one of Skeeter’s men away. Panic filled his face when he saw me, but Joe’s expression was stone cold.
Jed had already come through the front door, his gun raised, Skeeter on his heels.
J.R. began to laugh.
“Dad,” Joe said, taking a step closer. “Just put down the knife and let her go.”
He continued to laugh. “You joined forces with Malcolm, eh? Not so different from your father after all.”
“Dad. Just let her go.” Desperation saturated his words.
“Rose Gardner is worth more to me dead than alive.”
“No!” Mason protested, moving next to Joe. “If we all watch you murder her, you’ll get charged with murder in the first degree. You might even find yourself facing the death penalty. You’ll only have a chance if you let her go.”
J.R. paused. “Malcolm and his lackey will shoot me anyway.”
“No! He won’t,” Mason protested. “Malcolm, tell him!”
Skeeter’s face turned so hard he looked like he was made of granite. “Let her go, Simmons. In fact, everyone get out of the room. This is between the two of us.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Joe said, his voice cold. “He’s going to let her go, and then I’m going to escort him to the sheriff’s station.”