The Fifth Victim Read Online Free PDF Page A

grandson? I thought he joined the army or something. When did he come home?”
    “Last year. He’s the new sheriff and all the women have a thing for him, even Jazzy.”
    “He’s not her type. Jazzy likes her men rich—like me. She wouldn’t seriously waste her time on a quarter-breed with nothing more than a county sheriff’s salary.”
    “People change,” Cindy said. “You’ve been gone three years this time. Jazzy’s grown older and wiser. Besides, like I told you, she hasn’t been pining away for you any more than I have.”
    Jamie laughed. The sound rippled through Cindy in sensual waves. Everything about Jamie Upton reeked with sex appeal. He was prettier than any man had a right to be, with his wavy brown hair and hypnotic hazel eyes. He wasn’t a big man, but every inch of his five-foot-ten-inch frame was honed to sleek, muscular perfection. He was handsome, rich, and could be charming when it suited him. And he knew how to please a woman in bed—if it suited him.
    “I need to get back to the others,” Cindy said. “Jerry Lee’s going to wonder what’s taking me so long in the ladies’ room.”
    Jamie stepped aside. Cindy released a relieved sigh, then hurried up the hall, walking only a bit faster than her usual pace. Even though her flight-or-fight instinct urged her to run, she didn’t. She wouldn’t give Jamie the satisfaction of knowing how desperately she wanted to get away before she succumbed to her wicked desire for him. Until she’d had her first fling with him, she hadn’t understood why Jazzy Talbot repeatedly made a fool of herself over the man. But she understood now. There was something irresistible about the black-hearted bastard. But she doubted Jamie had ever loved anyone in his entire life—anyone other than himself, that is.
    When Cindy reached the huge front parlor, she paused, licked her lips, smoothed her hands down either side of her clinging silk dress, and squared her shoulders. Back into the fray , she thought. Forcing a false smile, she entered the room where the Uptons were entertaining a variety of local society. Although the dinner party had been planned weeks ago, before Jamie’s return, the event had turned into a welcome home for the Uptons’ only grandchild. Miss Reba had quickly added a dozen more to the guest list, including Jerry Lee and Cindy, and changed the sit-down dinner into a buffet.
    When she entered the room, Jerry Lee didn’t even notice her; he was deep in conversation with Big Jim Upton, the patriarch of the Upton family. Jerry Lee’s daddy had been friends with Big Jim, who had used his influence and wealth to help get Jerry Lee elected mayor of Cherokee Pointe for two terms, the second of which had just begun.
    Big Jim stood six-four and probably tipped the scales at close to three hundred pounds. He possessed a shock of thick white hair and sported a dapper white mustache. The Upton family owned Upton Farms, which still provided dairy products to most of northeastern Tennessee. They were semi-old money. Four generations of wealth. And each Upton son had married class, making each successive generation a bit more refined than the previous one. But something had gone wrong with the only heir. Jamie Upton might be well-bred, but he was a worthless, heartless son of a bitch.
    “Cindy, there you are,” Reba Upton called. “Come here, dear, and meet the Stowes.”
    Cindy forced a smile and went directly toward Miss Reba, Big Jim’s petite blond wife. Her unlined face and sleek, slender body belied the fact that she was seventy years old. A visit to a skilled surgeon every six years or so kept the old biddy’s face as smooth as a baby’s butt, and daily workouts with her own personal trainer kept her body in shape.
    Reba laced her arm through Cindy’s, her mauve lips spread wide in a hostess smile. “Cindy, this is Reverend and Mrs. Stowe. They’re new in Cherokee Pointe. The reverend has been assigned to the Congregational Church.”