The Black Widow. BEVERLY BARTON
left her to handle the family situation on her own. She squared her shoulders and walked across the lawn, up the steps and onto the veranda. Wes sat in one of the big wicker chairs, his legs spread, his shoulders and head drooped, and his hands clutched together between his knees. Kendra paced back and forth. Pausing when Jordan approached, she looked at her in a wide-eyed, pleading manner.
“Wes overreacted to something that was none of his business in the first place,” Kendra said.
Pointing her index finger in Kendra’s face, Jordan gave her a stern, disapproving, maternal glare. “J.C. kissed you, right?”
“Yes.”
“Did anything else happen?”
“No.”
“Has he kissed you before?”
“Once.”
“Kendra Diane Brannon, you are eighteen years old. J.C. is thirty-six. Do the math. He’s twice your age and has had five times more experience. He is a sweet-talking womanizer who uses and discards women as if they were Kleenex.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Jordan said. “Whatever he’s said to you, whatever you think you feel for him, forget it.”
“You’re not being fair,” Kendra whined, reminding Jordan of just how immature her stepdaughter was.
Maybe it was her fault that Kendra still saw the world through rose-colored glasses, but she had so wanted to protect her from life’s harsh realities as long as possible. When Jordan had married Boyd, Kendra had been a shy, starved-for-motherly-affection little girl of ten, the same age Jordan had been when she’d lost her own mother. She had reached out to Kendra immediately, offering her the love and attention she had so desperately needed.
“I’m being sensible. I am protecting you because I love you. And in case you have any doubts, let me spell this out for you. This subject is closed. After breakfast, I want you to go upstairs and pack your bags. You’re going back to university today instead of this weekend.”
“Oh, Jordan, do I have to…” Kendra stopped mid-sentence, heaved a deep, overly dramatic sigh and said, “Okay, I’ll go.”
“You know I’m doing what I believe is best for you under the circumstances.”
“Yes, ma’am. I know.”
“Go on inside. I need to talk to Wes. Alone.”
As soon as Kendra left, Jordan turned to Wesley. He wouldn’t look at her. Instead, he stared at the floor. Even though he was now a young man of twenty, broad shouldered and six feet tall, she would always see him as he’d been when she first married Boyd, a hostile twelve-year-old who was determined to hate his new stepmother. It had taken her a year of hard work to win him over and make him realize that she didn’t expect to take his mother’s place, that she wanted her own place in his life and his heart.
“Look at me, Wes.”
He hazarded a quick glance up at her.
“You should have come to me when you saw J.C. kiss Kendra and let me handle the problem. All you achieved by physically attacking J.C. was to bruise and bloody both of you and create a hullabaloo within the family.”
“Yeah, well, it did more than that,” Wes told her. “It made me feel damn good to hit him.”
Barely managing not to smile, Jordan laid her hand on Wes’s shoulder. “I suppose it did. There have been a few times when I’ve wanted to knock some sense into J.C.”
“I don’t see how you can stand having that sleazeball around. He’s worthless and everybody knows it. Even Devon, who likes just about everybody, has no use for J.C.”
“J.C. is my stepbrother. He’s family.”
“Have you considered the possibility that he killed Dan?”
The question genuinely startled Jordan. “No, I haven’t because despite all of J.C.’s faults, he’s not capable of murder.”
“Yeah, he is,” Wes said. “Everyone is. He kept hitting up Dan for money and when Dan didn’t come through the last time, J.C. got really pissed. What if he thought by killing Dan, you’d inherit and—”
“J.C. did not kill Dan. We don’t even know for sure that Dan was murdered.”
Wes shrugged. “Just don’t trust him, okay? You’re too smart for that, but at the same time, you’ve got a really soft spot when it comes to taking care of friends and family.” Wes rose to his feet. “Please, be careful around him.”
“I appreciate your concern.”
“I’ll go pack, too.” Wes grinned. “I figure you’ll want me to leave when Kendra does.”
Jordan slipped her arm around her stepson’s waist. “It’s for your own good. You two have missed more than enough school this semester and I know y’all stayed on because you’re concerned about me. Don’t be. I’m going to be all right. Devon’s here, as is Roselynne and Darlene, not to mention Rene.”
“Gee, that makes me feel a lot better,” he said sarcastically. “Devon’s a basket case since Dan died, and Roselynne and Darlene both need keepers, so Rene’s the only person left you can actually count on. Her and that Carson guy. I know you don’t like him, but I have a feeling he’s okay.”
“Yes, I have the same feeling. If I can ever convince him that I’m not some black widow who’s killed two husbands and a fiancé—”
“You’re joking? He can’t possibly think you whacked Dan or that you killed Dad or—”
“It’s his job to find out the truth,” Jordan said. “And that’s what I want, what we all want.”
Wes hugged her and kissed her cheek. “If you need me, I’ll just be a phone call away. I wish…”
“What do you wish, honey?”
“I wish you had someone to take care of you the way you take care of all of us. More than anyone I know, you deserve to be happy.”
A knot of emotion tightened Jordan’s throat, making it impossible for her to respond. She and Wes exchanged a tender mother-son moment that needed no words.
Tammy yanked open the front door to the home she shared with their mother and marched into the living room. J.C. took a puff on his cigarette, then blew out a spiral of smoke. His little sister looked spitting mad.
“What’s up, buttercup?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“How could you? Are you out of your mind?”
“Me? Nope. You’re the sibling with a few loose screws, not me.” He twirled his index finger beside his temple to indicate she was crazy.
Tammy bristled at his attempt to be funny. “Kendra is Jordan’s stepdaughter so that makes her off limits to you.”
“No woman is off limits to me if I want her and believe me I want Kendra. I’d like to pop her cherry if one of those college boys hasn’t already done it. And if they have, then I could show her the difference between being diddled by a boy and fucked by a man.”
“You’re disgusting. You know that, don’t you? Mama should have put you in a sack and drowned you in the river when you were born.”
J.C. chuckled, then took another draw on his cigarette. “Sugar, you’re the one who should have been put down like a rabid dog. You’re nothing but a burden on Mama and on Jordan.” He placed his cigarette in the ashtray on the side table. “Poor, pitiful, little Tammy.”
She came at him with teeth bared and claws out, lunging on top of him like the wild creature she was. She managed to rake his cheek with her fingernails before he manacled both of her wrists and forced her to her knees.
“You’re