been smoothed a lot since Regina Holland had come into his life last fall. Cash had seen the change in him and approved. Reggie, as J.T. called her, was perfect for his brother, strong and yet soft in all the right ways. She was like a ray of sunshine in J.T.’s life and it showed in his older brother’s face. Cash had never seen J.T. so happy.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked now.
Cash shook his head, figuring Reggie had sent him. “The state investigators took over the search. I’m supposed to go fishing.”
J.T. nodded. “You’re not going to though, are you?”
Cash smiled. His brother knew him too well.
“Reggie said if you need someone to talk to…”
Cash laughed. He knew Reggie had sent J.T. His brother looked too uncomfortable for words. “Tell her thank you.”
J.T. nodded, looked down at his boots, then up at Cash. “I’m sorry.”
Cash nodded. “Maybe it will finally be over.” He knew that was what his family had hoped for, that he’d be able to move on once he knew what had happened to Jasmine. If they only knew the truth. He feared though that before this investigation was over, they would know. Everyone would.
After J.T. left, Cash picked up the phone and dialed the number for Jasmine’s car insurance company, which he’d found in her glove box. He knew Mathews would find out soon enough that he was doing some investigating on his own and all hell would break loose.
But all hell was going to break loose eventually anyway and he couldn’t just wait for the state boys to call and tell him they’d found Jasmine’s body and they had some questions for him.
Atlanta, Georgia
BERNARD WENT THROUGH the motions. He called to have the company jet readied, instructed George, his English butler, to pack for him, and told the chauffeur to stand by to take him to the private airstrip later tonight.
Bernard had held it together fairly well he thought. Even when he’d had to deal with that jackass Kerrington. It was just like the fool to fly to Montana.
But he’d wanted to be the one to tell him. He didn’t want Kerrington seeing it on the news and doing something stupid. And it would be hitting the news, if it hadn’t already. He seldom paid any attention to more than the financial news.
He thought about ringing George and having the bottle of champagne he’d asked to be chilled brought out and opened. But he could wait.
He’d waited seven years so he could have Jasmine declared legally dead. Before their father had died, Archie had put aside part of his estate for Jasmine, still holding onto the ridiculous hope that she would turn up one day.
Bernard deserved that money. He’d spent his life “watching out” for his stepsister. “Keep an eye on her, won’t you, Bernard,” Archibald Wolfe would say. “Take care of your sister.”
He wished he had a dollar for every time he’d heard his stepfather say those words.
His mother had married Archie when Bernard was four. Jasmine had been just a baby, her mother having died in childbirth.
Bernard had seen his stepfather struggle with trying to love him as much as he did Jasmine. There had been times when Bernard had felt loved, felt like he really was a Wolfe, not just adopted because his mother had married Archie.
But then Jasmine had grown up, been a wild teenager and an even wilder adult. Keeping her out of trouble had proved impossible. She had loved to upset their father, hadn’t cared that she got Bernard and herself into trouble, had rebelled at every turn as if it were her birthright. The Wolfe money had meant nothing to her. She was Daddy’s golden girl and she’d known he would never disinherit her. At least not for long.
Bernard had never felt that secure as the stepson.
When Jasmine had decided to get another degree in a long line of degrees, this time in Montana, Archie had asked Bernard to go with her. “Just keep an eye on her. Make sure she’s all right. Be there if she needs you.”
Bernard had wanted to laugh. Jasmine hadn’t needed him, hadn’t even liked him, and he’d resented the hell out of his role as protector of his precious stepsister.
But Bernard had known he’d had no option. Archie had set him up in a condo near the university with unlimited spending and nothing really to do other than ski and party—and of course try to keep Jasmine out of trouble.
Jasmine had reverted to form and had enticed Kerrington to come to Montana so they could be together, except for those times when she was bored with him. Archie had heard about it and had been furious with Bernard, but even more furious with Jasmine. This time Archie had done more than threaten to disinherit her, he had done it.
Kerrington had been beside himself, begging Jasmine to make up with her father. He and Jasmine had argued and the next thing Bernard knew, she had announced that she was engaged to some cowboy sheriff from Antelope Flats, Montana. Kerrington had been inconsolable. He’d been dating Jasmine’s roommate Sandra to make Jasmine jealous. It apparently hadn’t worked.
Bernard had pretended to reason with his sister, but with her out of the will, he would get everything. Jasmine had never listened to him anyway. He hoped she would marry her cowboy sheriff and live in some dinky town in Montana, but he knew her better than that. Jasmine had just been playing them all.
Then Jasmine had disappeared. Archie had never said outright that he blamed Bernard, but Bernard knew he did. It had taken a while, but Bernard had finally gotten close to his stepfather before Archie died.
He’d worked hard to take over the Wolfe Furniture conglomerate, proven himself worthy in so many ways. In the end, he’d felt as if Archie respected him, maybe even loved him. Then Archie had died and Bernard’s mother Fran had been killed.
Bernard was left alone—with everything—except for the chunk that had been left to Jasmine.
In just a few weeks, Bernard could have had her declared legally dead. And now this. Jasmine’s car turning up, stirring it all up again. It was as if Jasmine was plotting against him from the grave. As if she couldn’t stand for him to be happy.
Now he would have to fly to Montana or it would look suspicious. He would have to act as if he gave a damn. He just hoped it wouldn’t take long. He’d always resented Jasmine, often disliked her. But right now he hated her.
His cell phone played “Dixie” in his suit pocket. He didn’t have to look at the number to know whom it was. He also knew what she would want. “Yes?”
“I need to see you. Where are you?”
“At home getting ready to leave for Montana.” He’d been waiting for her call. Had the champagne chilling for the two of them.
“Don’t move.” She hung up.
He smiled and snapped his phone shut as he thought of her and what she would want him to do to her. It was warped, twisted in ways he didn’t even want to think about. It was also dangerous. But worth it.
He checked to make sure George was finished with his packing, then rang the kitchen and asked for the champagne to be brought
