Mischief 24/7 (23 page)

Jade dared a look upward to see herself, Court’s hands on her breasts, her legs bent at the knee as their clothing still kept them from the most intimate contact.

She didn’t need him to tell her what to do next. As he cupped her breasts, his fingers doing incredible things to her nipples, she unbuttoned his dress shirt and pushed it down over his shoulders. Bending her head, she began to kiss his chest as he fought his way out of the shirtsleeves, and then she attacked his belt and zipper.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and went fully to her knees so that he could push down his slacks and boxers, but was unwilling to let him go.

She settled onto his lap once more, and Court continued to arouse her with long, intimate, penetrating kisses until she thought she might explode. She actually whimpered when he gently pushed her from him, held on to her hands as he moved forward, so that she was slowly lowered back between his legs.

“Court…?”

He was on his knees now, levering her legs on either side of him, putting his hands on her upper thighs so that he could slip his thumbs beneath the crotch of her panties.

Her breath escaped on a silent sigh.

Then he was moving his hands again, charting a path over her hips, across her belly, skimming her breasts.

“Open your eyes, Jade,” he said from somewhere far away, high above her. “See what I see when I look at you. The most beautiful, the most desirable, the most incredibly unique and precious woman a man could ever hope to have as his own. Watch me touch you… watch me love you. Because I love you, Jade. With everything I am or ever hope to be, I will love you for the rest of my life. Marry me. Marry me now.”

Jade didn’t know how she managed to be in his arms before he’d finished speaking, but she was. Holding on tight as together they fell back against the ridiculous pink satin bedspread, and it was only a matter of moments before Court was deep within her and, not just together, but now one person, they rode out wave after wave of passion intensified by love.

It wasn’t the sort of deeply heartfelt scene they’d one day share with their children, or the intimate dinner and dancing and down-on-one-knee moonlight proposal Court had planned when he’d bought the three-carat diamond in London, but it was their romance, their way Quick, impulsive, burning with passion.

They agreed they might at least show their children and grandchildren the photograph of the Elvis impersonator who married them later that same night in a chapel on the Strip.

They phoned Teddy early the next morning to tell him the news, Jade still so in love, cocooned in the merciful obliviousness love can use to fool the unwary, actually crying with happiness as her father gave Court his best wishes and his oldest daughter his blessing.

They’d honeymoon later, as soon as the deal in England was done, the negotiations currently at a point where Court never should have left the country, and wouldn’t have if he could have concentrated on anything except needing to be with Jade.

Thirty-six hours after the Elvis impersonator had said, “You may kiss the bride, and leave the building!” Court was on his way back across the Atlantic and Jade was back at home, eager to see her father, eager to thank him for being so understanding, so nice to Court when they spoke on the phone.

She quickly put down her overnight bag, calling Teddy’s name until she found him in his office, asleep or passed out, his head on his arms at his desk. She could see that he had at least a two-day growth of beard shadowing his cheeks.

There was an empty bottle of Irish whiskey next to his elbow, as if he had hung up the phone after her call from Vegas and crawled directly into a bottle.

Where, although she’d never told Court or her sisters, he’d pretty much stayed for the next seven months, not coming out again until Jade came home one last time, bringing all of her luggage with her….

J
ADE WAS WAITING
at the front door when Court and Jermayne got there, Jermayne with his hands on the handlebars of a large motorcycle he was pushing along with him.

She was shocked by his appearance. He looked so big, and maybe even bad in his black leather with his intimidating motorcycle. But when he looked up into her eyes as she stood at the threshold, he might have been that seven-year-old boy huddling against his grandmother’s skirts at his brother’s graveside.

“Let’s go into Sam’s office,” she said, “where we can talk. Court?”

“How’s Ernesto?” he asked her.

Jade gave a small smile. “We swapped a couple of horror stories, and we’ve agreed we’re probably charter members of Enablers Anonymous, but I think he’s going to be all right. He’s in the dining room having a sandwich with Jolie and Sam, so at least he got his appetite back. These things take time.” She looked at Court, hoping he understood what she was saying. “You know—time heals all wounds?”

“And wounds all heels, as we hope to prove with Joshua Brainard in less than two hours,” Court told her quietly as Jermayne worked his way out of his leather jacket, revealing a green camouflage muscle shirt that stripped away any thoughts that he was still seven years old. He was standing just where he’d stood when he entered the large foyer, as if afraid just being in the house might mean he’d break something. “You haven’t had much time to come up with a game plan for our friend here.”

“It’s all right, we’ll have to wing it. I’m just so glad he’s here. Come with me?”

Court squeezed her hand and pointed Jermayne down the hallway toward Sam’s office. “What about Sam and Jolie?”

“Jolie said she thought too many people might scare him off.” She slipped past Jermayne and into the office, telling Jermayne to take a seat and asking him if he’d like a soda or a sandwich, or anything at all.

“No, Miss Sunshine, I’m not hungry,” Jermayne said. His jacket folded over his clasped hands, he slowly made his way around the length of the bookcases, looking at the contents of the shelves. “Wow, a Mike Schmidt rookie card. And it’s even signed.” He looked at Court. “This yours?”

“No, Jermayne, this is my cousin’s house,” Court said. “I live in Virginia, and I’m a Washington Nationals fan, I’m afraid. Don’t hold it against me.”

Jermayne’s pained smile showed a mouthful of beautiful, straight teeth. “Better than the Mets,” he said, and then he took a deep breath and looked at Jade. “I don’t want you to think I came here just, you know, just for the watch? I don’t want the watch, you should have it. I wanted to say thank you for talking to my boss after I ran away like that. I mean, I really need the job.”

Jade had a sudden thought and dropped into one of the leather chairs. “Oh, Jermayne, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—How could I not have realized? Of course you need the job. So how can you give it up to go to school, right?”

Jermayne put his head down, again looking like the scared little boy. “No, it’s not like that. Teddy took care of that, too. Gave my gran money every month to put away for me, and that’s just what she did.” He looked at Jade again, blinking, as if his eyes burned. “I won’t touch it. I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be right. My gran taught me what was right, and that ain’t right. There ain’t nothing been right for a long time. I kept telling Teddy that, like I keep telling you, but he wouldn’t listen. He just kept coming after me, you know? He said he wouldn’t ever give up on me, wouldn’t let me alone. I told him that night that I couldn’t…”

He turned his back on Jade and Court, dropping the jacket and putting his hands to his temples, almost violently pounding his fists against the sides of his head.

Court took a step forward, but Jade motioned for him to sit down. Her heart was beating so fast she had to take a deep breath to try to settle herself.

“Jermayne,” she said, her tone deliberately changed from congenial to demanding. “What are you not telling us? I’m tired, Jermayne. My father’s dead, somebody tried to burn down my house, they’re calling my father a murderer and a coward who took his own life rather than go to prison. We loved Teddy, Jermayne, you and I. We know he was a good man, a caring man. I know you’ve got answers for me, I know you want to help me. For Teddy. So if you know something, if you know anything at all—”

“I killed him,” Jermayne said, his voice so low Jade wasn’t immediately sure he’d said anything. He dropped his arms to his sides and turned to look at her, his face streaked with tears. He took a breath, his massive chest rising and falling rapidly, and raised his voice. “I killed him, all right. I killed him, and you can’t fix that. Nothing can fix that.”

Oh, my God. This was a nightmare. A nightmare.

Court got up and went over to close the door before Jermayne said anything else, probably hoping Jolie and Sam hadn’t heard anything. “Sit down, Jermayne,” he then said, leading the now sobbing boy to one of the couches.

Jade immediately left her own chair to sit down beside him. She looked up at Court and mouthed, “Now what?”

Court put out his arms in a hugging gesture and Jade, wondering if her arms would even fit around Jermayne, reached out and tried to pull him close to her.

Jermayne’s genuine grief broke her heart, loud, racking sobs that shook his massive, muscular frame. “It’s all right, Jermayne,” she crooned, trying to keep her own balance and not fall sideways on the couch with him. “It’s all right, sweetheart, it’s okay. Teddy forgives you. I know he does…”

Jermayne sat up and lifted the hem of his muscle shirt to wipe at his nose and eyes. “I know. He said he did, and he said he’d help me, but then I came back and he was dead and I didn’t know what to do—”

“He what? Teddy
forgave
you for…” Jade looked up at Court again, her own eyes wet now. “You didn’t mean Teddy, did you, Jermayne?” she said, still looking at Court, trying to borrow strength from him. “No, of course not. You meant Terrell. You meant your brother. You’re telling us you killed Terrell? The night…the night Teddy died, you’d told him
about
what happened to your brother?”

Jermayne’s sobs took control of him again, but this time Court waved Jade off the couch and took her place, pulling the little boy who looked like a man into his own embrace and holding him, holding him, the two of them rocking back and forth.

“Keep him here, just let him cry, okay?” Jade said quietly. “I’ll go get a box of tissues from the kitchen and be right back.”

She closed the door quietly behind her, and then turned and ran for the dining room, her heart beating like a trip-hammer, but Sam and Jolie weren’t there. Only Ernesto, who was busily feeding pieces of the leftover sandwiches to Sunny and Rockne.

“Hey, what’s up, Miss Sunshine? You don’t look too good,” he said, getting to his feet. “Did I do that to you, dumping all over you like that? I’m sorry.”

Jade waved off his apology. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m fine, really. Ernesto, where are Sam and Jolie?”

“They went upstairs. Something about changing their clothes, I think. You want me to go get them? Maybe Mr. Becket, too? I mean, you really don’t look too good.”

“I know where Court is, thank you. And no, I don’t want you to go get them. I want you to tell me again about how you think Terrell Johnson was shot. Will you do that? Not your theories, your
conclusions.
I know you’ve read the file again. And the condensed version, Ernesto, please, I’m sort of in a hurry.”

“I can tell,” Ernesto said slowly, clearly gathering his thoughts. “My
conclusion
is that it wasn’t a drive-by. Whoever did the trajectory tests really screwed up. The shot had to be closer than that, and it had to come from below Terrell. Not a ricochet, or like Terrell was standing with his head up—you know, like at the foul line, looking up at the basket? Like that? Except it could be like that. Mostly, though, I think whoever shot him did it from down low. Why?”

“No reason. Thanks,” Jade said. “Take the dogs outside for me, please, sweetheart, and then stay out there until somebody comes to get you, all right? I’ve got to… I’ve got to do something.”

She went through the kitchen, past Mrs. Archer and up the back stairs, because Sam’s bedroom was located nearer the back of the house. She pounded on the door with the side of her fist and then opened it, to see Jolie stepping into a cream-colored skirt.

“Jolie!”

Her sister nearly fell, grabbing at the bedpost to steady herself. “Don’t
do
that! Jade? What’s wrong? Oh, God, something’s wrong. Sam!”

Sam came out of the bathroom, wiping the remnants of shaving cream from his face. “What’s up? Jade? Oh, hell, honey, are you all right?”

“Not really, no, but I’ve got to get back. Two things, quick. Jolie, call Father Muskie and get him over here right now. I don’t have time to explain, just tell him we need him here for one of Teddy’s friends. And I do mean right now. And

Sam? Call the Brainard campaign headquarters and have them tell Joshua we have a change of plans and need to meet him… I don’t know, at his house,” she said as she decided. “Yes, we’ll meet him at his house, right after the rally is over. Don’t take no for an answer, Sam. He has to see us tonight. Oh, and call Jess and tell her about the change of plans. Gotta go.”

“Gee, and to think I thought I sometimes missed getting orders from you,” Jolie said, and then held up her hands. “We’re doing it, we’re doing it. But you’d better have some answers for us soon, because I know I’ve got lots of questions.”

Jade turned away and then stopped, taking a shaky breath, before she raced over to pick up the box of tissues on the table next to the bed, and then gave her sister a quick hug. Tears threatened again, but Jermayne needed her; she could fall apart later. “I love you. I love you both very much. Stay up here, please, and Court or I will come get you soon to explain. Jermayne’s downstairs with Court now. It’s bad, Jolie, but it’s going to be okay.”

“Jade, wait,” Jolie called after her, but Jade kept moving, this time down the front stairs, hoping Court was working some sort of man-toman magic on Jermayne.

She was back in Sam’s den only three minutes after she’d left, closing the door and handing Jermayne the box of tissues as she sat down cross-legged in front of him on the patterned carpet, doing her best to catch her breath. “How are you doing, Jermayne?”