Beg To Die. BEVERLY BARTON

turned, a wicked grin on his face. “I stayed a couple of hours. We talked. We said our good-byes. But I know that sooner or later, she’ll take me back. She always has.”

      “Not this time. She wants marriage, doesn’t she? She knows you’ll never marry her. I hear she dated Jacob Butler for a while. He’s a fine man who’d make her a good husband. And I’ve been told that the new bouncer at Jazzy’s Joint is very protective of her. He’s thrown you out of the place more than once, hasn’t he?”

      “Jazzy broke it off with Butler…that big, ugly Indian. And as far as Caleb McCord—she wouldn’t marry him anymore than she’d marry Butler. Neither man has what Jazzy wants.”

      “And that would be?”

      “Money.”

      Jim snorted. “Maybe that’s what she wanted when she was sixteen and got herself pregnant with your baby, but Jazzy’s grown up and turned into a damn fine businesswoman. My guess is her priorities have changed.”

      Jamie turned and glared at Jim. “Is this conversation over? I need some breakfast and a few hours’ sleep.”

      Jim grabbed Jamie by the front of his fancy tuxedo shirt and hauled him closer. “Before you do anything, you find Laura and you fix things with her. You get down on your knees and beg her to forgive you, if that’s what it takes. Come Saturday, three weeks from now, you’re marrying that girl. And if you do anything—and I mean anything—to break your grandmother’s heart, I’ll break your damn fool neck. I’ve had all I’m going to take from you.”

      Jamie trembled. Good, Jim thought. It’s about time I made him afraid of me. He released Jamie and shoved him toward the exit. “When you apologize to Laura, you’d better be convincing.”

      Locking his gaze to Jim’s, Jamie smiled. “I didn’t spend the night with Jazzy, but I did find solace in a lovely lady’s arms. I think you might be interested in who I shared coffee and a kiss with less than half an hour ago.”

      “I couldn’t care less what poor, stupid slut entertained you last night.”

      “Now is that any way to talk about Erin Mercer?”

      Every nerve in Jim’s body rioted, every muscle froze. “Try another lie, boy, because I don’t believe that one.”

      Jamie shrugged. His grin broadened to show a set of perfect, pearly white teeth. “If you don’t believe me, call her and ask her if we didn’t share breakfast coffee and a smoldering good-bye kiss this morning.”

      Balling his hands into fists to keep from hitting his grandson, Jim inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “Get out of my sight. Now!”

      Jamie laughed as he turned and sauntered lazily toward the house. Jim, who watched until the boy disappeared from view, wondered what he’d ever done to deserve a grandson like Jamie.

      Sally Talbot and her best friend Ludie emerged from Jasmine’s and headed up the street toward Jones’s Market. Sally had a hankering for some catfish and she knew Jones’s was the best place in town to get fresh catfish. They bought straight from Silas Monroe, who owned a pond-raised catfish farm here in Cherokee County. When they crossed the street, Sally gathered a mouthful of tobacco juice and pursed her lips. She spit out a stream of brown liquid just as they stepped up on the sidewalk.

      “I wish you’d give up that nasty habit,” Ludie said. “You’re going to wind up with cancer of the mouth, mark my word. One of these days—”

      “My God, look over there…” Sally grabbed Ludie’s arm. She couldn’t believe her eyes. But sure enough, right there across the street, only half a block from Jasmine’s, a woman stood talking to Caleb McCord. A woman who looked a hell of a lot like Jazzy. A cold fear surged through Sally—a hidden fear that had plagued her for nearly thirty years.

      “Where?” Ludie asked, glancing up and down the street.

      “Over there by that fancy green car. I think it’s one of them Jag-u-wars. Look at that woman talking to Caleb.”

      Ludie’s keen black eyes zeroed in on the woman. Ludie gasped. “Dear God in heaven. She looks like…she could be Jazzy’s twin. But how’s that…oh, lordy, Sally, do you think she might be—”

      “Yeah, I think she just might be. And if she is, you know what that means.”

      “It means our Jazzy is going to be asking a lot of questions.”

      “You got that damn straight.” Sally munched on her tobacco, then spit on the sidewalk. “And just what do I tell her?”

      “You could tell her the truth.”

      “She might hate me.”

      “She might,” Ludie replied. “But knowing our Jazzy the way I do, I figure she loves you enough to forgive you.”

      “Come on.” Sally motioned to her friend. “I got to see her up close. Let’s go over there and get Caleb to introduce us. I might ask that lady a few questions before I worry too much. Maybe she don’t know—”

      “If she doesn’t know she looks like Jazzy, she will soon enough. You know Caleb will tell her.”

      Sally yanked on Ludie’s arm, then all but dragged her short, plump friend back across the street. As they drew near and were able to get a better look at the woman, Sally’s heart sank. This gal had to be Jazzy’s sister. Lord, help me. I had no idea there were two babies. If I’d known…

      “Morning, Miss Sally.” Caleb McCord, always cordial and mannerly, nodded in his friendly way. “Miss Ludie. How are you ladies this morning?”

      “We’re just fine,” Ludie replied, all the while sizing up the woman beside Caleb. “Who’s this pretty lady you got with you?”

      Caleb chuckled. “Miss Ludie, Miss Sally, I’d like for y’all to meet Ms. Reve Sorrell, from Chattanooga, Tennessee.”

      “Howdy do, miss.” Ludie smiled.

      “What brings you to Cherokee Pointe?” Sally asked.

      “I’d think that was obvious,” Caleb said. “She came here looking for a woman she was told resembled her enough to be her twin sister.”

      “Well, now that you mention it, she does favor our Jazzy some, don’t she?” Sally extended her hand toward the woman. “I’m Jazzy’s Aunt Sally.”

      Reve shook hands with Sally, all the while studying Sally as if she’d put her under a microscope for close scrutiny. “I met your niece and I agree that we do look a bit alike, but—”

      “You know, they say that we all got a double out there in the world somewhere. Guess Jazzy’s yours, huh?”

      “Ms. Talbot, may I ask you a question?” Reve Sorrell looked Sally right in the eye.

      Sally swallowed. Don’t blink, she told herself. Don’t show any fear. You ain’t done nothing wrong. Not thirty years ago. Not today.

      “What you want to ask, gal?”

      “If Jazzy is your niece, then you’d know if…if she had a sister, wouldn’t you?”

      Sally chuckled, the sound just a bit off. She hoped nobody but Ludie heard the nervousness in her voice. “Yes, I’d know. And if you’re thinking there’s any chance you and Jazzy are sisters, then get that notion right out of your head. My younger sister—Jazzy’s mama—had one baby girl. That’s all.”

      “I see.”

      Sally could tell by Reve Sorrell’s heaving sigh and her tentative smile that she was relieved not to be related to Jazzy. Judging the woman by the fancy clothes she wore and the expensive sports car she drove, Sally figured Ms. Sorrell came from money. Big money. And big bank accounts usually came attached to big snobbery. More than likely this gal was mighty glad to find out that she wasn’t blood