Breath of Scandal(103)

Over the din, Jade spoke into the microphone, promising that any further questions would be answered in a series of newspaper articles.

"What the hell is going on?" Dillon demanded when he reached her side. "Who is that old geezer?"

"I'll tell you about it later. Right now I just want to get away from here."

"You haven't aiswered my question yet!"

Ivan hadn't been deterred by the noisy confusion. Although the meeting had been adjourned, the crowd was slow to disperse. Most were holding back to see what was going to happen next. They sensed that the fireworks were about to begin, and, as was customary, Ivan milked his audience.

Jade would have chosen another time and place for her first encounter with the Patchetts, but Ivan was forcing her hand, and she wasn't about to back down. She stepped off the platform and confronted him.

"I have every right to be in this town or any other place I choose to go. The free enterprise system is still operative in America."

"Not in my town."

"Well, well. Jade Sperry. So you're the mystery person behind all this. Who'd have thought it?"

Neal was standing behind Ivan's wheelchair. Mistakenly, Jade had thought she was immune to his effect on her. She wasn't. Rage and hatred surged through her, almost obscuring his smiling face. Patience, she told herself. He wouldn't be wearing that smug smile much longer.

Since she had continued to receive the Palmetto newspaper all these years, she knew about their accident at the railroad crossing in Charleston. Both of Ivan's legs had been severed above the knees. Neal had suffered a crushed pelvis, broken bones, contusions, and other serious injuries that had kept him hospitalized for months. His wedding to Marla Sue Pickens had never taken place. The reasons for it being called off were nebulous.

Neal's appearance hadn't suffered any ill-effects either from aging or the accident. He was as handsome and arrogant as ever. "I thought this whole thing stunk to high heaven the first time those rezoning requests showed up on the city-council agenda. Naturally, I voted against diem. Tried to sway the others, but some had stars in their eyes and don't know what's good for this town." He grinned slyly. "Got to tell you, Jade, I admire the sneaky way you went about this."

"Don't compliment her." Snarling, Ivan pointed a finger up at Jade. "I'm royally pissed off at you, young lady. You might think you've been real clever. You might think that since I'm confined to this goddamn chair I'm weak and incompetent. "

He rolled the chair forward until his stumps were almost touching her knees. She held her ground, though the sight of him repulsed her and the thought of his touching her was revolting.

"You listen here, girly," he hissed. "I'm stronger than ever. That frigging train didn't damage my brain, you



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Breath of Scandal



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know." His eyes narrowed to malicious slits. "You can count on this-that goddamn plant of yours will never be built in my territory."

A cane was lying across his lap. He picked it up and thrashed it across the architectural drawing that was still propped against the lectern. It fell face down on the floor. From the comer of her eye, Jade saw Dillon lunge forward. She extended her arm, halting him in the center of his chest.

Her voice was amazingly calm. "I'll grant that at one time you were fearsome, Mr. Patchett." Her eyes roved over him unernotionally. "Now, you're merely pathetic."

She sidestepped his wheelchair and brushed past Neal without acknowledging him or anything he had said. Outside, people were still milling about. All looked at her expectantly as she emerged from the building. Obviously they were waiting to see how she had fared against Ivan.

With a confident stride, she moved down the sidewalk toward her new Jeep Cherokee and unlocked the driver's door. She tossed her briefcase inside and was about to slide behind the steering wheel when her arm was grabbed from behind.

Dillon had put on a pair of opaque sunglasses, but even with his eyes obscured by the dark lenses she could tell that he was furious. Out of deference to curious passersby, he kept his voice low and taut.

"What the hell was that all about?"

"This isn't the time or place to discuss it."

He lowered his face closer to hers. "The hell it's not. Before I turn a single spade of dirt, I want to know if I've got shotguns aimed at my back. Who was that old bastard in the wheelchair?"

"His name is Ivan Patchett, and he hasn't always been in a wheelchair. " She raised her hand to brush back a strand of loose hair. Her hand was shaking. She hoped Dillon wouldn't notice. "However, he has always been a bastard. "

"Patchett? The soybean guy?"

"That's right. Now, please let go of my arm. I've been on public display enough for one morning. I don't want



to engage in a wrestling match with you here on Main Street. "

He glanced down at his hand, which had shackled her upper arm. Apparently he hadn't realized until then that he was touching her. He released her immediately. "The other guy was his son?"

, ,Neal. "

"What's your beef with them?"

"That's my business." She tried to get into the car, but he trapped her arm again as quickly as a snare.