To pass the time, they decided to settle into the den and watch a documentary about ancient Egypt on the Discovery Channel. Rafe had phoned to tell J.J. he'd be arriving in about an hour, that he'd gone out and gotten supper for Dom and him. Both Grace and J.J. were concerned about Kate, although Rafe had said that the nurses had allowed them to go into the SIC unit to see Kate at seven and she was resting peacefully. And they were both worried about Jed. J.J. as his friend and Dundee comrade. Grace as his lover.
A soft rap on the door gained Grace's attention. "Yes?"
Laverna eased open the door. "Mr. Prentice is here to see you, Miss Grace. Shall I have him wait in the parlor or would you like for him to come to the den?"
"Ask him to come back here, please."
"Very well."
Grace turned to J.J. "I can't imagine what brings Hudson out here tonight." She wondered if he'd been upset because she'd left the hospital without saying goodbye. "I've never seen him in the condition he was in right after Kate was shot. But then, we were all half out of our minds."
"Seeing someone shot like that isn't easy for anyone," J.J. said. "But it had to have been more difficult for you, since you knew you were the intended victim."
"Kate saved my life. How do you ever repay someone for that?"
"It's our job," J.J. said. "Although it isn't that often we actually get wounded in the line of duty, we're always aware that it's a possibility."
Hudson cleared his throat as he stopped in the doorway. "Excuse me. Grace, may I see you alone, please."
"Sorry, but that won't be possible." J.J. rose to her feet and glared at Hudson. "Whatever you have to say to Ms. Beaumont, you'll have to say with me present."
"Grace, really… is it necessary for her to be here?" Hudson tilted his nose haughtily.
Grace glanced at J.J., then smiled at Hudson. "Please, come in and have a seat. And don't mind J.J. Just pretend she isn't here. I'm afraid Jed left specific instructions for me not to be alone until he returns." Well, that wasn't exactly true, but Grace understood that J.J. had no intention of leaving, so to avoid a ruckus, a little white lie was in order.
"Very well, but… I have something to tell you. Something you're not going to like."
Grace watched the peculiar expressions on Hudson 's face, changing from indignation to excitement to concern. She had the oddest feeling that the concern was fake. "Mercy, you're being awfully mysterious. Whatever is it?"
"I received an anonymous phone call… at the hospital. If you'll recall, I went to the men's room to take the call."
"And…" Grace prompted.
"And what I was told is terribly upsetting. I hate to be the one to tell you, but you have every right to know. You should have been informed before you took Jed Tyree into your home and put your trust in him."
J.J. tensed as she scrutinized Hudson, her narrowed gaze and rigid stance a warning.
"Be specific," Grace said. "What are you talking about?"
"Jed Tyree!" Hudson 's cheeks flushed bright pink.
"What about Jed?"
"God help us, Grace, you've been harboring this man in your home, putting your trust in him to protect you, to help you unearth evidence against-"
"Damn, Hudson, whatever it is, just say it."
"Very well, I will. Jed Tyree is Booth Fortier's nephew."
Chapter 20
Aric met Jed at the door, but made no attempt to stop him as Jed shoved Aric out of the way and stormed down the hall toward Booth's office.
"Mr. Fortier has already retired for the evening," Aric said, his deep voice utterly calm.
Jed spun around and glared at Aric. "Does the old bastard still have the same bedroom upstairs?"
"Mr. Tyree, if it's urgent for you to see your uncle, perhaps it would be better if I announce you."
Jed slung back his jacket to reveal his Beretta. "Shall I give it to you or do you prefer to take it from me?"
Aric came over and removed the 9 mm from its holster. "Come with me. I'll show you to your uncle's room."
Jed nodded, then followed the chauffeur/bodyguard up the stairs. "Wait out here," Aric said, before disappearing inside the bedroom. When he returned a minute later, a frown wrinkled his forehead. "He's willing to see you." Aric's glare issued Jed a warning. "Mr. Fortier isn't feeling well. Please, keep that in mind when you see him."
"He'll see me now? I don't have to wait or beg or humble myself?" Seeing Booth was only an excuse for the real reason he'd come here and he didn't look forward to another confrontation with his uncle. Where's Jim Kelly? Jed wondered. Would he get a chance to make contact with the FBI agent or would this trip turn out to have been for nothing? "Is Booth alone?"
"Quite alone," Aric replied. "Alone and… not quite himself."
Jed opened the door and marched in, but stopped dead still when he saw his uncle sitting on the edge of his bed, stooped over the nightstand's inlaid wood surface, brushing away something from the top and sending white dust floating in the air. Booth looked up at Jed through bloodshot eyes and grinned.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Booth asked, as he tried to sit up and wound up falling backward into the bed. He chuckled softly, then righted himself and waved Jed forward with a sweeping hand gesture.
Jed realized that Booth was either drunk or drugged-maybe a deadly combination of both. An almost-empty glass of what appeared to be whiskey sat on the nightstand. His uncle had always been a heavy drinker, but hadn't been an alcoholic. And although he'd bought and sold drugs, he hadn't touched the stuff himself back when Jed had lived under his roof. Apparently all that had changed.
"You're a sorry sight, old man." Jed came around the foot of the bed and stood there staring at his uncle. "No wonder you have to beat the hell out of your wife in order to feel anything. You probably haven't been able to get it up in years."
Growling like a wounded bear, Booth tried to stand, but didn't manage to get to his feet before dropping back down on the bed. "You're treading on thin ice, boy." Booth stuck his index finger out toward Jed. "You may be my nephew and I might have loved you once, but that doesn't give you the right to-"
"And you don't have the right to murder people." Jed rushed right up to Booth and looked him square in the eyes. "Somebody tried to shoot Grace Beaumont today, but then you already know about it, don't you? Well, your guy missed. He shot a Dundee agent instead. Grace is alive and well and more determined than ever to nail your sorry ass."
"If you'd been more like me and less like your mama, you'd have had the guts to stay with me, to learn from me, to take over my empire." Booth reached out and grasped Jed's shoulder. "But you're weak, just like she was weak. I tried to help her, tried to fix her mistakes…"
"By killing the man she loved!"
Booth squeezed Jed's shoulder. "I take care of my own. I did what I thought was right. She never understood, never forgave me. I had no choice but to have her locked away and to keep her drugged so she wouldn't try to go to the police. Hell, boy, she was my sister. I couldn't kill her, could I?"
Jed stared at his uncle, who used Jed as a crutch to support himself as he stood. "Are you saying my mother wasn't crazy, that she didn't have mental problems?"
"Surely you understand why I did it? Why I kept her locked away from you and kept her from running her mouth off to the police. It was either keep her in that sanitarium or kill her. I made the right choice, didn't I, Jed?"
Bile rose to Jed's throat and for just a minute he thought he might throw up. All these years he'd thought his mother was crazy, when she'd actually been sane. God in heaven. What had it done to her being sane and locked up and held a prisoner in a mental hospital for most of Jed's life? Had the drugs she'd been forced to take been what had finally killed her?