“I wish I’d taped her show tonight. I have a feeling it was pretty good.” Jade tried to smile. She was happy for her sister, both her sisters. Out of tragedy had come Jolie’s reconciliation with Sam, and Jessica’s meeting Lieutenant Matthew Denby could almost be seen as Teddy reaching down from heaven to make sure his Little Princess would be taken care of now that he was gone.
Leaving her, Jade, to wish she could see the same sort of happy ending for herself. But again Teddy had left her with the responsibility, hadn’t he? Just as he’d left her to find him in his—“Oh, my God, Court.”
Court was on his feet immediately. “Jade? You’ve gone white as a ghost. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Jade began pacing once more, her mind racing. “I was only half-awake when the phone rang, still fighting off a dream I’d had about… Never mind. It’s my only excuse. I was only half-awake and I was mad, not thinking clearly. How else did I miss it? He was trying to scare me, sure, but he slipped up, said too much. Cocky bastard, blowing his own horn. He said knotty pine, Court. Knotty pine.”
“Damn it, you’re right. I heard that, too, but I didn’t pick up on it. Teddy’s office had knotty-pine paneling. Jesus, Jade.” Court pulled his cell phone from his pocket once more. “I’m calling Matt. He needs to get back here now, even if he has to charter a plane to do it. He can do things we can’t. He might even be able to find out where the bastard was calling from.”
Jade raced over and closed the cell phone, torn between relief and a new urgency. “No, please don’t do that. He tried doing that after the first call, and it didn’t work. These guys use throw-away cell phones now and we can’t trace them. Besides, it’s already almost morning. You said they’ll be home tonight. Don’t bother them.”
Court looked at her, his expression tight. “I never thought you believed me to be stupid, Jade. I know what you’re thinking, and you’re not still doing this on your own, not after that call. Not if I have to tie you to the bedpost.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m just going to talk to Brainard, in his office, in a public place. That’s all, Court. The plan hasn’t changed. What else would I do—go in there with my six-guns blazing, like we’re in the Old West?”
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, you’re not doing it. This call changes everything, and you know it. You’ll look at him, and he’ll see that you know, that you’re a real, imminent danger to him, and suddenly the target is pinned to your back. He’s talked to you now, he knows you’re no pushover. That surprise element you’re hoping for, charging in there and springing what you know about Tarin White? That’s all gone now, Jade. Hell, if he’s got a brain at all, he’ll simply refuse to see you.”
“I can play a role. I’ve done it before. You’ve seen me do it.” Jade winced, as they both knew she was referring to the night they’d met. “Besides,” she added quickly, “half of being a PI is acting.”
“You’re not Jolie. Besides, nobody’s that good an actor. You won’t let me contact the police, and
I understand why you’re against that after the way you were treated the night Teddy died, which means we’ll wait for Matt. So scratch any visits to Brainard’s campaign headquarters, his house or anyplace he might be later today giving one of his speeches. You’re not going, it’s not happening. I forbid… Oh, damn. I should have quit while I was ahead, shouldn’t I?”
Jade smiled at him. She couldn’t believe it, but she actually felt… happy. They hadn’t discussed it, but both she and Court knew what hearing the words knotty pine really meant. Just those two small words, and everything had changed. Those words meant that Teddy hadn’t been alone when he died and he hadn’t killed himself. The call also meant that they were getting close, really close, and it might have been Jade who’d felt spooked by the call, but it was the killer, it was Joshua Brainard, who was really spooked. She felt like rubbing her hands together in glee like a mad scientist. She felt like dancing a jig—which was stupid.
“It doesn’t matter where you quit, Court, because I’m still going to do what I’m going to do. You know that. I know that. That call didn’t change my plans, it just made them more urgent. We’re almost there, Court. We’re already looking at the right answers, and Brainard knows it. I can’t not confront him—we have to end this.”
“I agree that we’re close. I’ll give you that much.”
“Good. So, please, let’s not argue. Although, if you want me to yell at you, you could always try that ‘I forbid it’ line again. Now excuse me, I’m going to go shower and look over the files one last time. I’m betting we have more of the answers, more of the puzzle pieces, than we think we do, more fact than conjecture. I can’t sleep anymore, anyway. Besides, don’t you have phone calls to make?”
“I do, unfortunately,” Court said, and sighed. He looked rumpled, and worried, but Jade could see that his sharp mind was also considering the ramifications of the phone call. “He did say it. I heard him. Knotty pine. He could have said ‘the wall,’ or even just ‘paneling,’ but he was specific.”
“And, according to the decorating magazines, knotty pine isn’t exactly a big trend out there right now.”
“And probably hasn’t been since the middle of the last century. Teddy’s whole office was one big time warp. Brainard really slipped up with that one. What I’m not quite getting is why he’s making these calls at all. I mean, what’s the point?
Nobody ever backed away from something important because of a threatening phone call.”
“Maybe not you, Court, not a man—but a woman might,” Jade pointed out sarcastically. “At least that’s how a man who has no real respect or regard for women might think about it. The calls make for one more nail in Brainard’s coffin—something else that leads straight back to him. I’d say he’s afraid of what we’re doing, but even I don’t completely buy that one.”
“I understand. He’s worried, but he still thinks he’s in the driver’s seat.”
“His ego again, right. He thinks he committed the perfect crimes all those years ago, and again now. Reaching out to touch us, talking about seeing Teddy? That was arrogance, Court, plain and simple. And a man who can’t stand not being in control, not being the one giving the orders. He almost told us who he is with this latest phone call, although I doubt that was part of his plan.”
“He’s someone used to being obeyed, as well, maybe used to having his name and background pave over any potholes for him.”
“Exactly. That threat about Jessica was a sort of ultimatum—drop what you’re doing or suffer the consequences. He had control for a while, too, until I heard Jess’s voice. Then I took control back by hanging up on him. It’s all shrink stuff I’ve read about a thousand times, the ceding and taking of power. We’re not dealing with Joe Blow Average Guy here, Court. We’re dealing with a man used to being in the catbird seat his entire life, giving all the orders and getting what he wants. Which again leads right back to Joshua Brainard. He fits the bill, right down to his poor opinion of women. He cheated on his wife, remember?”
“So that’s what, bottom line, you think these phone calls have been about? The man is trying to control you? You?” Now Court smiled, but it was a self-mocking smile. “Lots of luck with that. I’m still living with the consequences of my own stab at offering you an ultimatum. And no, we probably don’t want to go there right now, so I’ll shut up.”
“Who says men aren’t intuitive?” she quipped, trying to smile. This was no time for ancient history. But the time was coming, and they both knew that. In some strange way, Teddy’s death, the old cases, Brainard’s imminent arrest for murder, they were all preludes to the main event. At some point, she and Court had to talk about the past. Only then could they consider a future.
He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You’ll be all right? We have an agreement