The Black Widow. BEVERLY BARTON

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guilt but genuine concern, halted a few feet from Jordan as if uncertain of what to do or say.

      “I wanted to wait until later to speak to you about this,” Ryan said. “You have enough to deal with as it is.”

      With thick auburn hair, the tall, slender Ryan was a younger version of Dan. Only Dan’s eyes had been a brilliant topaz and Ryan’s were a honeyed brown.

      Nicole Baxter Powell remained silent, her compassionate gaze focusing steadily on Jordan. Although Jordan had met the former FBI agent only a few times, she liked Claire’s cousin and had no reason to distrust her.

      The man at Nicole’s side was a stranger, someone she’d never seen before today. His eyes, so dark they appeared almost black, bored into her, his stare intense and hostile. Hostile? Was her imagination working overtime? This man had no reason to be antagonistic toward her. They didn’t even know each other.

      Jordan looked directly at Ryan. “Answer the man’s question. Do you have any reason to believe that someone murdered Dan, that his death wasn’t a suicide?”

      Ryan frowned, emotional pain etched on his features as he faced Jordan. “I don’t believe Dan killed himself. It went against his very nature to take the coward’s way out. He was one of the strongest, bravest men I’ve ever known.”

      “Dan was also loving and protective,” Jordan said. “If he believed that by taking his own life, he might spare us the agony of watching him die by slow degrees, then he might have—”

      “No!” Ryan bellowed the one word as he clenched his hands into stiff fists and closed his eyes for a split second.

      Startled by her brother-in-law’s vehement response, she tensed, every muscle in her body suddenly taut. “There’s more to this than just your belief that Dan wouldn’t commit suicide, isn’t there?”

      “Tell her. She’ll find out sooner or later.” Claire looked from her husband to Jordan and then back to Ryan as if she couldn’t decide who needed her comfort more.

      “Tell me what?” Jordan asked.

      “I spoke to Steve privately the day the autopsy report came in,” Ryan said. “You know that Steve and I go way back, that we’ve been—”

      “Yes, I know that you and Sheriff Corbett are good friends, so please stop stalling and just come right out and tell me whatever it is.”

      “Steve agrees with me that, despite the coroner ruling Dan’s death a suicide and the fact he has no solid proof to the contrary, it’s possible that Dan didn’t kill himself. Steve says that details about a gunshot wound can rule out suicide, but they can’t prove it conclusively, that sometimes it’s a judgment call.”

      Jordan felt cold, as if the temperature in the room had dropped a good 20 degrees in a matter of seconds. A chill rippled over her body causing her to quiver.

      “You realize what you’re saying, don’t you? If Dan didn’t…if he wasn’t responsible, then that means someone else…” No, she refused to believe that anyone would kill Dan. “But that’s not possible. I found Dan lying over there—” she indicated the sofa with a glance “—with the gun still in his hand. The doors were locked and there was no evidence that anyone had broken into the house.”

      “Who else was in the house other than you and the senator?” Mr. Carson asked.

      Surprised by his question and by the fact that he had injected himself into what was a family matter, Jordan snapped her head around and glared at him.

      “Rick!” Nicole Powell frowned at her companion.

      “No, it’s quite all right,” Ryan said. “I want Mr. Carson to ask questions. If I hire Powell’s to do an independent investigation into Dan’s death, then—”

      “If you do what?” Jordan felt as if she might faint. Had she heard Ryan correctly? Did he intend to hire an outside agency to dig deeper into the events surrounding Dan’s death? What was he thinking? Didn’t he realize that if the investigators unearthed too many facts about Dan’s life, they might discover a truth that Dan had kept hidden for years, one that could destroy his reputation?

      “I know why you’re concerned,” Ryan told her. “That’s why I want to hire Powell’s, a firm with a solid reputation for honesty and integrity. Any information they uncover will be kept in strictest confidence.” He looked at Nicole. “Isn’t that right, Nic?”

      “Yes, of course,” she replied.

      “Do you need a glass of water, Mrs. Price?” Rick Carson asked. “Or maybe something a little stronger. You look as if you’re going to pass out.”

       I don’t like you, Mr. Carson. I don’t like the way you look at me, as if you think you know something about me that no one else knows.

      Claire rushed to Jordan, cupped her elbow and said, “Come sit down. Please. Would you like a drink? Ryan can fix you something or I can ring for Tobias—”

      “No, I’m all right.” Jordan jerked away from her sister-in-law’s gentle hold and marched across the room, stopping directly in front of the rough-looking Powell agent. Although he wore a suit and tie, he exuded a raw, rugged masculinity that hinted that beneath the neat façade beat the heart of a primitive male.

      “We don’t have to do this now, Mrs. Price,” Mr. Carson said.

      “We had a full house that weekend because of the Easter holiday. The live-in servants were here. Tobias and Vadonna. My stepchildren, Kendra and Wes Brannon, were both home from college. Dan’s personal assistant, Devon Markham was here, as was my assistant, Rene Burke.”

      Rick Carson’s gaze met hers head-on. Neither of them blinked.

      “Who has a key to the house and knows the code for the security system?” he asked.

      “Really, Mr. Carson, now is hardly the time to—” Claire injected.

      “No, no, it’s perfectly all right,” Jordan said. “If Ryan hires the Powell Agency and Mr. Carson heads the investigation, I’m sure he’ll ask far more personal questions than that. We might as well get used to being interrogated.”

      “Oh, please, let’s not do this now.” Claire slid her arm through her husband’s and reached for his hand.

      “Claire’s right,” Ryan said. “This can wait. Jordan’s near collapse.” He looked pleadingly at Jordan. “I’m sorry. I didn’t handle this very well.”

      “No, let’s do this now.” Jordan returned her gaze to Rick Carson. “If there is any possibility that Dan was murdered, I want to know. Consider yourself hired, Mr. Carson.”

      Rick glanced from Jordan to Ryan, then looked directly at Nicole.

      “Am I to consider this a firm offer?” Nic asked. “If so, then is Powell’s working for you, Ryan, or for Jordan?”

      “For both of us,” Jordan replied. “Unless Ryan has any objections.”

      “Of course not,” Ryan said. “If you’d like for me to handle the details—”

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