"I don't think I can stay up here alone. I want to go downstairs with you, but I promise I'll stay in the house and not go outside to look at whatever sick present he's sent me."
Jed phoned Dom and Kate and explained the situation, then he waited downstairs in the foyer with Grace, just as they'd done last night. What he knew that Grace didn't know was that this gift would be much worse than the first one. Escalating cruelty was Booth's trademark style. Jed had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. His gut instincts kept warning him about tonight's present, but he tried to shut out the all-too-real possibility.
"What's taking so long?" Grace asked.
"It's been only fifteen minutes."
Grace sighed. "This is driving me crazy."
Yeah, and seeing her like this-a bundle of nerves-was really getting to him. He didn't like this helpless feeling. Waiting. Not knowing. Certain and yet uncertain. The torment Booth was putting Grace through, the hell he'd made of her life four years ago, was another reason to hate his uncle.
"Why don't we go in the kitchen and fix you something to drink," Jed suggested. "If you've got some ice cream and cola, I'll make you a float. How does that sound?"
"It sounds like you're trying to take my mind off what's happening."
"I guess my strategy isn't working."
Grace smiled and his gut tightened. She was just a woman, like so many other women, but nothing more than her fragile smile turned him inside out.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're a good man, Jed Tyree?"
"No, ma'am. You're the first."
"I can't believe that."
Jed grinned. "Well now, a few ladies have told me that I'm good," he said jokingly. "But they were referring to certain talents that-"
"That I've been privileged to experience firsthand." Her gaze locked with his. "Those ladies were right, you know."
Jed felt as if his racing heart was going to jump out of his chest. God help him, if Grace didn't have him tied in knots. How did a man react when a woman told him that it had been a privilege to be his lover?
"Ah, Blondie, you sure know how to make a man speechless."
"That'll be the day." Her smile widened, reaching her eyes and putting a sparkle in them.
He reached out to touch her, to skim the back of his hand over her cheek. His cell phone rang. His hand froze in mid-air, then he retrieved his phone from the clip-on holder and punched the On button.
"Tyree here."
"Jed, it's Dom. I'm sending Kate up to the house to stay with Ms. Beaumont. After she gets there, you'd better come on down here. I've already put a call in to the sheriff, so they should be here soon."
"Damn!"
"You already know, don't you," Dom said.
"I've got a pretty good idea."
"Fortier's gift to Ms. Beaumont weighs in at about one-seventy-five. He's got his hands and feet bound, hogtied actually, and he's got so many stab wounds in him that his body looks like a knife thrower was using him for target practice."
"I'll be on down as soon as Kate arrives."
"Yeah, you do that," Dom said. "And in the meantime, I'll get in touch with Sawyer and he can handle the Feds."
"Send Kate on up."
"Open the gate and she'll be on her way."
Jed punched the Off button and replaced his phone, then turned to Grace. "Kate Malone is coming to the house to stay with you. When she gets here, I'm going down to the gate to wait with Dom until the law arrives. He's already called the sheriff's department."
"The law?" Grace paled instantly. "It must be truly horrible if Mr. Shea has contacted the sheriff. What did Booth Fortier send me this time?"
Jed looked at her point-blank. "He sent you the body of the guy who betrayed him."
Chapter 14
Jed headed down the driveway at a fast trot, then ran the last few yards over to where Dom stood just beyond the open gates. Security lights beamed brightly on either side of the brick pillars and illuminated a good twenty-foot circle. The hogtied body waited for him, undisturbed since it had been dumped-several feet off the main road and directly in front of the entrance to Belle Foret. When Jed approached, Dom moved away from where he'd been standing near his rental car.
"I looked him over, but didn't touch anything," Dom said. "I'd say this guy was tortured for hours before he finally died. He's a bloody mess. But there's something odd."
"What would that be?"
"He's covered with stab wounds, but there's not even a bruise on his face." Dom snorted. "It's as if whoever ordered the killing wanted to make sure this guy was recognized without any problem."
Jed glanced at the lump of human flesh, neatly tied with rope-like a gruesome gift. "It's a fresh kill. There's no rotting odor, only the smell of recent death. And some of the blood on his wounds looks like it hasn't dried out. Hell, he could have been finished off right here."
Jed moved closer. The body lay on its side, so the man's back was to him. Black hair, cut short. Jed circled the body, then bent down on his haunches and took a closer look. He felt as if he'd been poleaxed. He shot to his feet instantly.
Jaron! Jaron Vaden. Older. A mask of torment on his face. But there was no mistaking those dark Creole looks.
Why, damn it, man, why? What the hell were you thinking trying to double-cross Booth? You were probably his right-hand man. What would possess you to do something so stupid?
"What's the matter?" Dom asked. "You've got an odd look on your face."
Jed walked a few feet away from the dead man and kicked the fence so hard a sharp pain shot through his foot. A string of curses burst from his mouth as he curled his hands into fists.
"Hey, what's going on?" Dom took several steps toward Jed. "You know this guy?"
A shot of salty bile zipped up Jed's esophagus. It had been years since the sight of a dead body had caused him to puke. But then, it wasn't every day a man got a look at the end results of an old friend's life. There had been a time, back in their teens, when Jaron had been his best buddy. God, but they'd shared some good times.
"I knew him," Jed admitted. "He's Jaron Vaden. One of Booth Fortier's personal entourage. And Booth's wife's brother."
"He ordered his own brother-in-law killed?"
Jed snorted, then chuckled. "Yeah, it isn't the first time he's murdered a brother-in-law. When Booth sets out for revenge, no one is safe." Hadn't Booth killed Jed's own father? Why did it surprise him in the least that he'd have no qualms about killing Jaron?
"Look, if you'd rather not be here, I can handle things with the sheriff. You can go on back up to the house and-"
"I'll stay. I want to see the sheriff's reaction or the deputy's, whoever the hell shows up. I should be able to tell just by the way they handle things if Booth's got the law around here in his hip pocket."
"You think he's got somebody on his payroll?"
"Maybe. But it could be someone in the St. Camille police department, since the Garland Industries warehouse is in the city limits," Jed said. "No way to know for sure."
"So, you think Fortier ordered his goons to leave the guy's face untouched so that you'd recognize him? If that's the case, then it means your uncle knows you're back in Louisiana and that you're working for Grace Beaumont."
"Yeah, it looks that way, doesn't it?"
The distant sound of a siren told them the law wasn't far away. Jed wished there was some way to protect Grace from being questioned, but since she was directly involved, that wouldn't be possible. He could shield her from only so much, despite his desire to save her from more pain.