Gesturing at Margo to be quiet, Mateo said, “Franco, we don’t need the El Paso County Sheriff’s Office poking around here again.” He took the last swallow of his bourbon and set the glass down on the coffee table. “Especially in addition to the Colorado Springs Police.”
“The police are after you, Mateo, not me,” Franco said and stood up from the sofa.
Too stupid to remain silent, Margo screeched, “Enough is enough! Forget about Jade!”
Whirling on her, Franco asked, “Like you forget about every female Mateo uses his voodoo on and screws under your nose?”
“Go to hell, Franco!” Mateo hollered and walked away toward the foyer.
“See you there,” Franco replied.
Over his shoulder, Mateo reminded him, “As I said before, I’m done.”
Franco aimed and fired, shooting Mateo square in the back. Mateo stumbled forward and Margo screamed. Mateo fell facedown in the foyer, still alive. Margo’s shrieking crescendoed as she rushed toward Mateo. Trying to crawl, Mateo begged for mercy as Franco fired a second bullet into his head.
“Nowyou’re done, brother dear,” Franco said.
“No!” Margo shrilled, reaching Mateo.
“I’ve hadenoughof you, Margo.” Franco fired twice, dropping Margo in a bloody heap across Mateo’s dead body. “You’re done too.”
“So is Jade Taylor,” came Greta’s voice from behind Franco. “It’s you and me now.”
Franco smelled the odor as he turned. For a moment, all he saw were the flames licking the long legs. Placing his gun hand and other hand to the sides of his head, he cried out as the flammable canvas and paint quickly burned, disintegrating the hips and waist. Turning his back to the bloody bodies in the foyer, he lurched around the S-shaped, white sofa and grasped his tumbler of bourbon. Tossing the 80-proof liquor at the painting caused a flash of fire to spread across the breasts. With his next breath, Franco watched in disbelief as flames consumed the flawless face. Slowly turning to a smiling Greta, as she walked toward him holding a candle lighter, he pulled the trigger. When nothing was left on the wall but the charred frame and nothing at his feet but another dead body, Franco punched a number on his cell phone.
“Where are you, Ragsdale?” He listened and ordered, “Drop the cards and get over here.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
“It’s the most magnificent wedding dress I’ve ever seen,” Rachel said to Jade and Chloe in the upstairs bedroom where Jade’s bedroom furniture had been placed.
The long white gown was draped over the front of a full-length mirror as Jade, with Chloe on her left and Rachel on her right, stood a few feet back admiring the spectacular, all-lace dress. Dainty straps attached to a delicate, low V-neck and off-the-shoulder short sleeves. A graceful slit up the middle reached knee level.
“Itislovely, isn’t it?” Jade whispered, hands clasped under her chin.
“It is,” Chloe agreed. Then, to Rachel, she said, “We’re back early because we found it almost as soon as we got to the boutique.”
“I knew it was the one the moment I saw it,” Jade said, touching a lace sleeve.
“With Jade’s perfect body, it didn’t need a single alteration,” Chloe said.
Jade blushed and shrugged, “You’re much too kind, Chloe.”
“Telling it like it is. Let’s show Aunt Rachel the back of the gown.”
“Yes,” Jade said. “Close your eyes, Rachel.”
When she and Chloe had carefully turned the dress around and hung it over the mirror, Rachel was told to open her eyes. The V-neck in the back of the gown fell all the way to the tiny waist. Yards of intricate lace gracefully billowed beyond the hem as a three-foot train.
“Sensational,” Rachel sighed. “You girls found a dress worthy of Jade’s beauty.”
“Thank you, Rachel,” Jade said, not at all convinced she deserved such a compliment.
“It’s the truth, but you’re welcome.” Rachel, still gazing at the dress, asked, “Is there a veil, and what about shoes?”
“Oh, yes. Just you wait,” Chloe said with a happy laugh. “Model those for us, Jade.”
“Wearing this short, blue jean dress?” Jade asked.
