Her voice sounded different. All soft and feminine and sweet.

"Eat up," was all he could think of to say.

She nodded, then unwrapped her burger and took a huge bite. He did the same, but couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. She looked a h.e.l.l of a lot like Jazzy up close, but she wore very little makeup and her eyes were dark brown. Despite their strong physical resemblance, he'd never mistake her for Jazzy. Not in a million years. And not because Jazzy was prettier. No, that wasn't it. It was because of the way he reacted to Reve. He and Jazzy had been friends forever; they'd even tried dating. But there was zero physical chemistry between them. Unfortunately, the exact opposite was true of Reve and him. Every time he was around her, she evoked a strong reaction from him. Usually he wanted to wring her neck.

But right now, that wasn't what he wanted to do to her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"You aren't eating."

Answer her, you idiot. "I was just thinking about how much you and Jazzy look alike and yet how different you two are."

Reve's smile disappeared. She took another bite out of her cheeseburger, then reached for her coffee.

Now would be a good time to stop talking and eat, Jacob told himself. Finish lunch and then drive her to her cabin or to Jazzy's apartment and say good-bye. You're way out of your league with this one.

Now why would he think that? It wasn't as if he was interested in dating Reve Sorrell. h.e.l.l, he didn't even like her. But right this minute, he sure did want to kiss her.

They ate in relative silence, their occasional smacks and slurps highly exaggerated in the quiet truck cab. When they finished their meal, Jacob stuffed their garbage into the paper sack and dumped the sack into the garbage container he kept in his truck. When he turned to ask Reve if she was ready to head back across town, he noticed a dab of a mustard/ketchup mixture smeared on the side of her mouth. Without thinking, he reached over and wiped off the stain with the side of his thumb. Reve opened her mouth in a silent gasp. His hand lingered. She stared at him, her eyes wide and round.

He balled his hand into a clenched fist. "If you're ready, we'd better go. I need to get back to the office."

He started the motor and backed up without waiting for her reply. When they returned to the street and were heading across town, he spoke to her, but kept his gaze focused straight ahead.

"Do you want me to drop you at your cabin or back at Jazzy's apartment?"

"If it won't be too much trouble, drop me by my cabin."

"Sure. No trouble at all."

Neither of them said a word for the seven and a half minutes it took for him to drive her to her rental cabin. When he pulled up out front, he opened his door and jumped out without making a comment. The sooner he got rid of her, the better. For both of them. He had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his belly that whatever was going on with his libido was happening to hers, too.

He yanked open the pa.s.senger door and held out his hand to a.s.sist her. She put her hand in his. Heat spread through his fingers and quickly engulfed his entire body. He practically jerked her out of the truck so that she stumbled when her feet hit the ground. She stood there, only a couple of inches separating their bodies, and looked up at him. She was a tall woman, taller than Jazzy, but still a good seven inches shorter than he was.

"Thanks for lunch," she said. "I probably gained five pounds from the cheeseburger alone."

He could think of a good way for her to work off the calories. d.a.m.n it, Butler, you've got to stop this. "I like to see a woman with a healthy appet.i.te."

She smiled again, and every instinct he had told him to run. Run like h.e.l.l.

"I've got to go," he said.

"Bye." She didn't move. Neither did he.

"Yeah, bye." Get your a.s.s in gear, Butler.

He backed away from her. Slowly. She stood and watched him get in his truck and close the door. When he drove away, he glanced in his rearview mirror. She was still standing there. She lifted her hand and waved. He gunned it and flew off down the street.

I can't allow the truth to be revealed. We've kept this ugly little secret for thirty years, and I intend to take it to my grave. If anyone were ever to know what happened-what really happened-my life would be ruined, my legacy worthless. Everything that has ever meant anything to me would be lost. And all because of that woman! I hated her then and ' hate her now. She was evil, and her corruption destroyed everything and everyone around her.

I didn 't want to get rid of those babies, but I had no choice. I couldn't allow them to live. But instead of depending on Slim to get rid of them, I should have done it myself. "e swore to me that they were dead, that there was no way either of them could survive.

But he'd been wrong!

All these years, Id thought I was safe. I believed those twin girls were dead. And all the while they were alive, one of them growing up right here in Cherokee County.

But can you be certain that Jazzy Talbot and Reve Sorrell are her babies? Just because they're beautiful, as she was beautiful, and just because they have her red hair, doesn't mean she was their mother.

Of course it does. They are thirty years old, with birthdays the same month as her twin girls. And they were both abandoned at birth, each left separately, but both left to die.

Thank G.o.d for small-town gossip. Someone had overheard Jazzy and her fiance talking at Jasmine's, and somebody else had overheard that crazy Sally and her Indian friend talking while they were walking along the sidewalk One person told another and then they told someone else and so on and so on. If not for busybodies spreading the news, it might have been days, even weeks, before I found out the truth. And time is of the essence. The sooner I act, the better for me and everyone else involved.

I have to kill both twins before that investigator, Griffin Powell, unearths the truth about who they are and about who their mother and father were. I will not allow her children to destroy our lives.

And I know just how I'll do it, how I'll kill them without the least bit of suspicion falling on me. It was a brilliant' plan. First Jazzy. Tonight. And then Reve.

The telephone rang four times before Jazzy grabbed the receiver. Caleb had already gone over to Jazzy's Joint for the evening and she was on her way out of her office at Jasmine's, intending to join him.

She glanced at the caller ID. A cell phone number. "h.e.l.lo. Jazzy Talbot here."

"Jazzy?"

"Yeah." The voice didn't sound familiar.

"I understand you're looking for your real mother."

"Who is this?"

"Someone with information."

"What kind of information?" Suspicious by nature, Jazzy immediately distrusted the caller.

"I know who your real parents are, and I'm willing to share that information with you."

"How much is this going to cost me?"

"I don't want your money."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want you to know the truth."

"Okay, so come on over here to Jasmine's right now and tell me everything you know."

Silence.

"Did you hear me?" Jazzy asked.

"I'd rather we meet somewhere. Neutral ground, so to speak. Not my place or yours."

She'd take Caleb with her, of course, and Reve, too. If this person was on the up and up, her sister should hear the truth directly from the horse's mouth, so to speak. "Okay. Name the time and the place."

"Now. As soon as you can meet me."

"Where?"

"Are you familiar with the old covered bridge about half a mile from the country club?"

"Why meet in such an out-of-the-way place?"

"Because I do not want to become involved. People know me here in town. I'll give you the information only if you come alone and if you swear you'll never tell anyone who told you about your parents."

Jazzy's gut instincts warned her against meeting this caller. After all, there was a good chance a killer with a thing for redheads was out there somewhere just waiting for a chance to grab her. On the other hand, she seriously doubted the caller was a serial killer. A phony? Someone hoping to exhort money from her? Possibly. A serial killer? Highly unlikely.

You can take your gun. And you can insist that Reve come with you. After all, if this caller was telling the truth and could ID her parents, then Reve most definitely had a right to hear the truth firsthand, just as she did.

"I'll meet you in fifteen minutes, but I won't come alone. I I'll bring my sister with me."

Was that a chuckle? Jazzy wondered.

"Yes, I'll agree to that. By all means, bring Reve Sorrell with you."

The dial tone buzzed loudly.

Jazzy immediately called Reve's cabin and let the phone ring a dozen times. No answer. She tried Reve's cell number. No response. Jazzy hurried out of her office, down the hallway and out the back door. The back entrances to her two businesses were only fifteen feet apart, so it took her about a I minute to go from one to the other. She entered Jazzy's Joint, bypa.s.sed her office and the restrooms and went straight into the main arena. After scanning the room and not seeing Caleb, she walked over to the bar.

"Where's Caleb?" she asked Lacy, the bartender.

"He had to drive Gus Logan home. That poor old fool was already drunk when he showed up, and he got downright nasty when I refused to serve him."

"d.a.m.n!"

"Something wrong?" Lacy asked.

"Yeah, I'm supposed to meet somebody in less than fifteen minutes, and I wanted Caleb to go with me."

"I can give him a message when he gets back and he can meet you wherever it is you're going. If you go by yourself, he'll worry, what with all the talk about some nutcase killing redheads."

"I'll bet Jacob and Dallas are wondering how that bit of confidential info got out. n.o.body was supposed to know that the victims were redheads."

"You can't keep something like that under wraps for long. Stuff like that gets leaked."

"Yeah, it happens. Unfortunately. Look, I'm going to meet somebody who says they know who my real parents are. As soon as Caleb gets back, tell him to come out to the old covered bridge about half a mile from the country club."

"I don't think you should go alone. Call Reve so she can go with you."

"I tried to call her. She's not answering her phone."

"Then wait for Caleb."

Jazzy patted the inside of her coat pocket. "I'm taking my thirty-two with me, just in case. So as soon as Caleb comes back, tell him where I am. And a.s.sure him I feel certain that the person who called me is not a serial killer."

CHAPTER 20.

Jazzy pulled her Jeep off to the side of the road directly in front of the old covered bridge. She'd made it there in twelve minutes flat, so she guessed she was early. She didn't see another vehicle anywhere nearby, so that had to mean the caller: wasn't there yet. Of course it would be possible to park a car on the other side of the bridge, just around the curve, and be completely out of sight from this vantage point. Strumming her fingertips on the steering wheel, she waited. Impatiently.

Come on. Hurry up, will you?

The minutes ticked by slowly, each one seeming ten times longer than sixty seconds. Finally, after five minutes, she re-* moved her phone from her jacket pocket and tried calling Reve again. First the cabin, then the cell phone. Still no response. Where the h.e.l.l was Reve? Why wasn't she answering her phone?

Maybe I should call Jacob and ask him to run by and check on Reve. No, don't do that. It's a bad idea! Reve wouldn't thank me for siccing Jacob on her. Jazzy chuckled. Those two were headed for a major explosion. Genny had seen the handwriting on the wall, but it didn't take any special sixth sense abilities to figure out that that much tension between two people could be resolved in only two ways. Either they killed each other or they f.u.c.ked each other.

Beginning to feel the chill in the night air, Jazzy restarted the Jeep, upped the heat and flipped on the radio. Where the h.e.l.l was her mystery caller? She wasn't going to wait around half the night. And what was taking Caleb so long to get here?

She hit the keyed-in number for Jazzy's Joint, the phone at the bar.

Lacy answered on the sixth ring. "Jazzy's Joint." Lacy spoke loudly so she could hear herself over the noise from rowdy customers and s.h.i.t-kicking music.

"Where's Caleb?" Jazzy asked.

"I don't know. He should have been back by now. Gus just lives over on Oakwood. Have you tried his cell phone?"

"No, but I will. I thought sure he'd be back there by now."

"Has your mystery caller showed up?" Lacy asked.

"No, not yet."

"Well, you be careful, okay?"

"I will. I will."

Jazzy hit the off b.u.t.ton and then punched in Caleb's cell number. It rang repeatedly. No response. But just when she decided he wasn't going to answer, he did.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Caleb?"

His voice softened. "Hi, honey. Look, I'll be there soon. I had a flat tire on my way back from Gus's house. I've just about got the tire changed."