by Judi Lynn
Damian, Brett, and Kelsey glanced at one another, evidently relieved.
“That’s all we can ask,” Brett said. “Thank you.”
Chapter 6
They didn’t stay long after agreeing to help Damian and Kelsey. On the ride home, Jazzi reached across the gear console to squeeze Ansel’s thigh. “That was nice of you. I know you’re tired of thinking about murders.”
He pressed his lips together, frustrated. “I know how hard it is on everyone involved when a brother’s accused of murder.”
And then she got it. She’d worked with Gaff to prove Ansel’s brother, Bain, hadn’t killed Donovan. They’d lived the stress Brett and Damian were suffering, only their case had been resolved much more quickly. She sighed. “I don’t see how we can be of much help this time.”
Ansel shrugged. “All we can do is try. But those brothers have been through enough.”
Jazzi had to agree. Maybe that experience was why Brett was as aggressive as he was. She’d blamed it on his being so competitive in business, but if he’d stuck up for his brother over and over again, it had forced him to push back against unfair rumors. A lot of anger must be brewing deep inside him.
When they got home, they were both too keyed up to go right to sleep, so they sat up and watched TV longer than usual to relax. When the morning alarm rang, neither of them bounced out of bed, looking forward to a new day, but there was no choice. They had a fixer-upper to work on.
Jazzi called Gaff before leaving the house. He didn’t pick up, so she left a message on his machine. It felt odd asking him for help with a case outside his jurisdiction and with something they weren’t personally connected with. Once she thought about it, Gaff usually invited her to ride along with him. It had started when she and Jerod found her aunt’s skeleton in a trunk in their house’s attic. Gaff thought it would help her family members if she went with him to talk to them, that they might take the news better and remember more, especially because the murder had happened years ago.
When she’d finished her call, Ansel scooped up George, and she grabbed the cooler to load in their van. Ansel headed south on I-69 until he reached the turn for 114 to Merlot. Jazzi didn’t pay attention to the scenery until houses grew farther apart and the terrain grew hilly. The leaves were beginning to change, splashing the trees with reds and golds. They passed a stand that sold pumpkins, and Ansel pointed in their direction.
“We should give a Halloween party this year.”
Last October, they’d been getting ready for their wedding on November 10. They’d known each other much longer, of course, and lived together for a while before deciding to make it permanent. She glanced at her ring. It was exactly what she wanted—no big diamond to snag on things while she hammered and plastered. “Can you believe we’ve been married almost a year?”
“Best year of my life,” he said.
She shook her head at him. He meant it. But he was right. “Mine too.”
He grinned. “We’ll make it a combination Halloween and anniversary party.”
“I could go as the Bride of Frankenstein and you can be …”
“The monster?” He laughed. “I guess I’m tall enough.” They’d almost reached the house when he said, “This would be the perfect time to finish the basement and add a playroom. Jerod and Walker’s kids could bob for apples down there.”
She turned to stare at him. “Why can’t we just set that up on the back patio?”
“It might be too cold. You never know what the weather will be like by the end of October.”
Right. “You just want a room in the basement.”
His eyes twinkled. “That too.”
It had just been a matter of time. They’d already agreed they could use the extra room when Ansel’s family came to visit. “Ever since we helped Jerod build a playroom for his kids, you’ve wanted one, too.”
He didn’t even try to deny it. His voice turned to coaxing. “We could compromise. We wouldn’t divide the big bedroom upstairs, but add daybeds down there. Then we’d only have one project to finish.”
She liked compromises. She stopped to think about that. “Can we even get the room finished by Halloween? We’re going to lose a weekend when we drive to Wisconsin for your brother’s wedding.” Bain had finally asked his Greta to marry him. They’d insisted they wanted a simple ceremony, just a justice of the peace and a family dinner. Nothing else.
“We don’t want to be fussed over,” Bain told them. “We only want it to be legal.”
So she and Ansel were driving Radley and Elspeth to the family farm, then driving home the same day.
“We’ll only lose one day,” Ansel said. “I’ll work on it in the evenings and weekends. The ceiling’s high enough; all we need to do is frame out what we want and put up drywall.”
That wasn’t all that needed to be done, but it was the biggest part. “You’re going to be working double-time for the rest of the month,” she warned.
“I’m young. I can handle it. And you’ll help me get started, won’t you?”
“I suppose.”
He smiled. “So, what do you say?”
“Why not? If your family comes for Christmas, we’ll have somewhere to put them.”
He slapped the steering wheel, happy. “It’s going to be great. I was thinking we should put a pool table down there, too.”
“Ah, the truth comes out.” She smirked to let him know she was teasing. “If you plan on inviting Thane, Walker, and Radley over on Thursday nights, you’re going to have to carry food in because I’m not cooking for you.”
“We’ll manage.” He sounded awfully pleased with himself. When they reached the house and carted everything inside, he couldn’t wait to tell Jerod their plans.
“A pool table? I loved playing pool when I was young and single.” Jerod sounded as excited as Ansel. “We can disappear down there after the Sunday meal while the girls visit.”
She could see it already. People were going to come more often and stay longer, but that was fine with her. As long as they helped with the cleanup.
They all headed up the ladders to the roof while George found the perfect spot of grass from which to supervise. They took shorter breaks than usual, and by the end of the day, they’d finished the shakes on the main part of the house. Tomorrow, they could start work on the wing. Its roof wasn’t as high and might go faster. They stood back to admire the finished product. The shake shingles really did add a lot to the house’s charm.
There was more traffic than usual on the drive home, and Ansel drummed his fingers on the steering wheel every time they had to slow down. “I want to measure everything in the basement tonight,” he complained.
“I’ll help you. We’ll have plenty of time.”
He was so impatient that when they got home and finished feeding the pets, Jazzi started to the basement stairs. “Let’s measure for the room; then we can shower and start supper.”
A good decision, because once he had all his numbers carefully written down, Gaff called.
“I’m not sure what I can do, but I have a friend who works on the Merlot force. I’ll give him a call to see if he can tell me anything.”
“Thanks, Gaff, we appreciate it.”
“I’ll get back to you when I hear something.” And he hung up. Detectives didn’t waste time with frivolous chatter.
She and Ansel took the rest of the evening at a leisurely pace, and by the time Ansel stretched out on his favorite sofa to watch TV, she pulled a kitchen chair over to Jessica’s hope chest to start looking through it. Ansel was in such a good mood, he didn’t even make a fuss.
Anticipation stirred when she dug through the contents and found Jessica’s journals. The oldest one was written in round, childish handwriting. The first page read Jessica Hodgkill, Sixth Grade. Jazzi flipped through it. Jessica told about getting better gra
des on tests than Lila Mattock. I don’t try to get higher grades, but spelling and arithmetic are so easy. It makes Lila mad, though. She cut the safety chain on my bicycle and rolled it into the middle of Main Street. A nice driver stopped, though, and walked it to the sidewalk.
Jazzi reread that. Did Lila have an emotional problem? She didn’t think normal kids did things like that.
On the next page, Jessica wrote, I told my dad what Lila did. He told me that no one likes a show-off. Mom said I wasn’t showing off and not to listen to him, but Dad doesn’t much like me. He wouldn’t care if Lila ruined my bike.
Jazzi reread that again, too. She’d never met Jessica, but she was beginning to feel sorry for her. “Listen to this!” she called to Ansel. She read him the two entries. “Sounds like both Lila and Jessica’s dad had issues.”
Ansel grimaced. “My dad wasn’t very protective, but he’d have hunted Lila down for trying to ruin a bicycle. Property costs money, and he cared about that.” He frowned, lost in thought. “There was a kid in some of my classes, though, who no one liked. He had more money than the rest of us and always rubbed it in how rich he was, looked down on the rest of us.”
“I don’t get that feeling about Jessica. She sounds more like the class brain.”
“And she was good at sports? And pretty?” Ansel gave a quick nod. “Someone like Lila would despise her.”
“But her dad?”
“Her dad sounds like a jerk. At least her mom tried to stick up for her.”
It did sound that way. Ansel went back to his TV, and she went back to the journals. She read from grade six to grade ten, and Lila’s pranks grew more vicious every year.
Her heart went out to Jessica when she wrote about her dream of becoming a photojournalist and traveling the globe, reporting on poverty and corruption. The girl was an idealist. Jazzi got the sense that she spent a lot of time alone. In ninth grade, she spent half a year talking about a boy she obviously had a crush on. Sadly, it wasn’t mutual. She talked about spending summers on the swim team and swimming forty laps a day. And taking tennis lessons, and how much she loved them.
When Jazzi reached the journal for her sophomore year in high school, Jessica wrote, I think my father hates me. He’s always disliked me, but I’ve done it now. I beat Alwin’s score on our IQ tests. My brother didn’t care. He said the tests were stupid anyway. But Dad grounded me for a week and wouldn’t speak to me. The farther Jazzi read, the more Jessica worried that her father might disown her. But she added, I cannot help but be myself. I refuse to play dumb just to please him. He can feed me bread and water, and I will not do any less than my best.
Her entries disturbed Jazzi so much, she decided she’d read enough for the night. She put the journals away and closed the hope chest. Ansel could tell she was upset when she went to lay on the couch opposite his. Inky and Marmalade immediately jumped up to press against her when she stretched out.
“What is it?” Ansel asked. When she explained, he said, “Some fathers are like that. At our house, Bain was the favored son. Radley came in a distant second. I was better than Adda, because she was a girl. But we all knew that the dairy farm would go to Bain and Radley.”
She realized Ansel understood exactly what Jessica had gone through. He’d lived it pretty much himself. She’d had a happy childhood. “I got lucky. My dad ended up with two girls. But it wouldn’t have made a difference. My parents don’t play favorites.”
Ansel sat up to see her better, propping his elbows on his knees. “How did Jessica’s father make all his money?”
“He owned a company, and everyone knew he was grooming Alwin to take over its reins when he retired.”
“How much older was Alwin than his sister?”
“Two years.”
“Did Alwin feel threatened by Jessica?”
Jazzi frowned, considering the question. “I don’t think so. His dad’s attention was always focused on him. He could do no wrong.” That made her wonder. How much did Jessica’s dad resent her? Would he push her off a balcony to clear the field for Alwin? She felt a little sick and pressed a hand to her stomach.
Ansel glanced at the clock. “It’s getting late. We didn’t get that much sleep last night. If we go up to bed, will you be able to shut off your brain and go to sleep?”
She stroked her cats’ smooth fur and listened to them purr, then yawned.
Ansel smiled. “Come on, babe. I’ll give you a hand.” He walked to her couch and helped her to her feet. Once settled under the covers, he spooned his body against hers, laying his arm over her waist. She felt herself relax, wrapped in the safety of Ansel. And the next thing she knew, it was morning.
Chapter 7
Jazzi rushed around more than usual to get ready for work. Today was Thursday, which meant girls’ night out. She was meeting her sister, Olivia, Walker’s wife, Didi, and Radley’s girlfriend, Elspeth, at the 07Pub for drinks and supper.
“Where are you and the guys meeting tonight?” she asked Ansel on their drive to Merlot.
“At our place. I’m carrying in wings, and they’re going to help me start work on the basement.”
She shook her head. “Let me guess. They’re all excited about the pool table, too.”
He laughed. “We’re even thinking about an arcade game.”
“You’re building a man cave.”
“The space is big enough for everything—games, a sitting area, and a kids’ space. We might as well make it cover all our needs.”
She hadn’t known they had so many needs when they’d first talked about the project. But if it meant that someday down the road, she could ban the men and the kids to the basement, she was on board with the idea.
Jerod’s truck was already in the driveway when they reached the fixer-upper. When he saw Jazzi carry in the slow cooker and Ansel tote the cooler in one hand while carrying George, he grinned. “What did you make for us?”
“All the fixings for taco salad and sweet tea.”
He pressed a hand to his stomach. “This is going to be a good day. Franny asked me to stop to pick up fried chicken on the way home. She’s hungry for it. She tried to cook it a few times, but it either turns out greasy or so dry, I have to drink a gallon of water to swallow it.”
“It’s a lot of work,” Jazzi said. “I’d rather buy it.”
“But yours is better,” Ansel told her. “I’ll help the next time you make it.”
That wouldn’t be anytime soon. She plugged in the slow cooker, and they headed outside. The weather was in the low seventies with a soft breeze—a perfect day for roofing. They hauled shingles up the ladder and got started.
They usually didn’t talk much while they worked, but Jerod said, “Gunther brought home his first book from the school library last night. And he can read it. My boy’s a genius.”
Jazzi laughed. Jerod thought everything his kids did was pretty wonderful. “I take it he likes first grade.”
Jerod couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice. “He loves his teacher, and Lizzie loves all-day preschool. It’s made life really nice for Franny. She can spend more time with Pete and still get some furniture refinished while he takes naps. She’s been working on the antique chest of drawers from Jessica’s bedroom. You should see it. It’s gorgeous.”
The man was crazy about his family. She and Ansel had started having Gunther and Lizzie spend the night at their house once in a while, and she had to admit, kids were a lot of fun.
Chitchat stopped, and they settled into work, trying hard to get the front half of the roof done before they left. They were installing the next-to-the-last row of shingles when a red convertible pulled into the driveway. A tall, thin woman with straight red hair that fell to her shoulders got out of the car and stalked toward them.
“Go see what she wants,” Jerod said. “We’ll keep working. If you stall her long enough,
we can finish up.”
Jazzi thought about pointing out that she’d never been named the official liaison person for their crew, but it would be pointless. Even if Jerod stopped working to talk to the woman, he’d only yell down, We’re busy right now. Go away.
She made her way down the ladder. The woman came too close, invading her personal space, before putting her hands on her hips.
“Is it true that no one ever touched Jessica’s room, and the three of you threw away all of her things?”
Jazzi raised an eyebrow. “Who wants to know?”
The girl flipped her hair. “I’m Lila Mattock. I was close friends with Jessica. I loaned her a few of my journals before she died, and I’d like to have them back.”
Jazzi stared. Lila Mattock. A close friend? Hardly. “Sorry. We gave most of Jessica’s things away and burned the rest. I have Jessica’s journals at home, and I’m reading through them, but I didn’t find any of yours.”
Lila’s eyes narrowed. “You’re reading them?”
“I’m up to her sophomore year.”
“What right did you have to do that?”
“What right do you have, calling yourself a friend?” Jazzi waved her argument away before she could make it. “We bought the house and its contents. I called Jessica’s mother and she didn’t want them. When I learned that Jessica was pushed off the house’s balcony, I was curious.”
“Nosy, you mean.” Lila squared her shoulders. “Jessica was the world’s biggest liar, you know. She hated me and did terrible things to make me look bad in high school.”
“I’ve heard you hated each other, that it was mutual. Were you at the graduation party when she died?”
Lila’s lips turned down. She whirled on her heel. “I don’t have to talk to you. I don’t like gossip, so if you say one bad thing about me, I’ll sue. Just think about that.”
Jazzi didn’t like to be threatened. “I’m petrified.”
Lila slammed her car door, then sent Jazzi a final glare before screeching out of the drive.