by Judi Lynn
During lunch, Jerod glared at the cupboards, glowering.
“What?” Jazzi asked. “What did those cupboards ever do to you?”
He snorted. “I held up the knobs we bought for them, and I don’t like them. I should have gone with your idea: plain blue ones instead of the metal.”
She refrained from saying I told you so. He wasn’t in the mood. Instead, she shrugged. “We can use the metals ones on some other job. Leave early today and buy the ones you want.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I have a better idea. We’ll send you to the hardware store in town, and if they have them, get them. I don’t want to bother with them tonight.”
He wasn’t usually so impatient, but why not? “I’ll take off now if we’re finished with lunch.”
He waved her off. “Go already. I want to see what they look like.”
Someone was in a mood. Pete must still be keeping them awake nights. Jazzi went to the work van and made the short drive into town. When she walked into the store, a man whose name tag had the same last name as the shop’s sign came to greet her. Must be the owner.
“You’re new here. Are you one of those flippers working on the Hodgkill place?” he asked. When she nodded, he shook his head. “Lila Mattock’s been spreading rumors all over town about how rude you were to her. She even called the Hodgkill family in Carolina to complain about you.”
Jazzi laughed. “I didn’t make a good first impression. I wouldn’t give her Jessica Hodgkill’s journals.”
He shook his head. “She’d only burn them. She hated Jessica with a passion. Are you keeping them?”
“It doesn’t feel right, throwing them away. We called her family, but they didn’t want them, so I took her hope chest home, and I’m reading through her things. I didn’t realize she’d been murdered when I started.”
“You’re stirring up old memories. People are beginning to gossip about what happened again. Some folks, like Ruth Goggins, are hoping you find something to pin her death on Damian Dunlap. Others, like Damian’s parents, are hoping you find something to prove him innocent.”
She frowned. “Why the focus on Damian?”
He gave a wry smile. “That would be because of Lila and Ruth. Pot stirrers. They wouldn’t leave it alone.”
“They drove Damian out of town, made his life miserable. I’ve met him. He’s hoping I find something in those journals, too.”
He grimaced. “I’m none too proud of the way Merlot handled that boy. Some people made themselves judge and jury, decided he was guilty when there was no evidence.”
Jazzi shook her head. “I’d love to find something. I really would, but I’m not having any luck. Maybe after all this time, someone will remember some small thing in a different light from back then.”
“You’re hoping to find Jessica’s killer, too, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “That girl had so much potential and was genuinely nice. According to her journals, too many people gave her grief.”
“That would be her dad and Lila’s fault. Neither of them ever had anything good to say about her. Lila was just jealous, but I never understood how a dad could be so cruel to his own daughter. He was a haughty person, so I thought he’d boast about Jessica’s achievements. Instead, he insulted her for them.”
“Did he influence other people to dislike her?”
“No, no one liked him much, but people listened to Lila back then. She had a way of insinuating things that made you believe her. Not so much now. After her divorce, we heard the same horror stories about the nice boy who married her. He won custody of their kids. That says something.”
“It says a lot.” Jazzi hesitated. “I’ve heard that Jessica’s four good friends are still in town.”
He grinned. “Part of the Fantastic Five? One of them was in here yesterday—Darcie Winters. She wants to get together with the other three and rehash memories they have about Jessica. They’d like you to find out who killed her as much as Damian and his family would.”
Excitement buzzed through her veins. “Maybe they’ll remember something.”
“Maybe. I hope so. I always liked Jessica. My daughter was a year behind her in school, and Jessica tutored her once when she got behind in chemistry. Helped her pass her next test.” The bell over the door rang, and another customer walked in. He shook himself, getting back to business. “But you probably came in here to look for something. How can I help you?”
Jazzi described the blue knobs she needed, and he nodded.
“Got ’em. I’ll show you where they are.”
When she walked to the counter to pay, he came to ring her up. “Good luck with everything. You’ve sure made the house look good.”
“Thank you, and nice meeting you.”
She meant it. As she walked to the van, she thought about what a nice man he was. And she’d learned a little more about Jessica and Merlot. A double win. Maybe this time, the town was ready to look for the truth, not just chase rumors.
Chapter 19
When she and Ansel got home that night, they worked in the basement. They used sprayers to paint the ceiling black, which meant Jazzi’s face was speckled with black spatters of flat paint. She and Ansel had both covered their heads and worn long sleeves, and that was a good thing. It protected most of their skin. Then they grabbed rollers for the walls. The soft, khaki satin finish made the room feel bigger without being too stark.
When they finished, Ansel smiled, admiring their work. “I like it.”
“So do I.” Jazzi narrowed her eyes at the floor. “You were thinking about indoor/outdoor carpeting once, but what about plank tiles that look like wood instead? We can add lots of throw rugs for color and warmth.”
He scowled. “That’s a lot more work and more expensive.”
“But if someone spills something, we wipe it up. No big deal. I think this room is going to get a lot of use.”
“Are you up for laying tiles down here?”
“If you like the idea, we should buy what we need tonight, so we can get them done before Halloween.”
He swatted her fanny. The man had a thing about her booty. Actually, he liked all of her curves. “Race you to the truck.”
Rolling her eyes, she jogged up the steps after him. George came to the door to go with them, but Ansel patted his head. “Not this time, buddy. We’ll bring something back for you.”
The pug knew those words and understood them. He trotted to his dog bed to wait for his treat.
They both liked oak flooring, but they decided on a darker look to make the khaki walls pop. Area rugs were on sale, so they threw in five of those, too. Their next stop was a drive-through to buy burgers and fries to take home. Ansel bought one for George, and when they walked through their back door and George saw the bag, he hurried to the kitchen island. Jazzi tossed fries on the floor, and Inky and Marmalade batted them back and forth.
It had been a long day. Supper was so late, when they finished, they showered and changed into their pajamas before settling on their favorite couches just as Jazzi’s cell phone rang. She frowned at the number. No one she recognized, but she picked it up.
As soon as she said hello, a man started yelling at her. “My wife asked you to stay out of our personal lives. She’s suffered enough. You don’t have any business reading Jessica’s journals!”
“You must be Mr. Hodgkill.” Jazzi pushed the Speaker button so that Ansel could hear. Keeping her voice calm, she said, “I called and asked your wife if she’d like us to send her any of Jessica’s things. She didn’t want them.”
His voice only grew angrier. “That doesn’t mean she wanted you to take them home and poke your nose into our lives. Lila said you wouldn’t even let her look at them.”
“Lila was never nice to your daughter. She doesn’t deserve to see them.”
“That’s for us to dec
ide! If you don’t give them to her, I’m calling my lawyer. Do you understand that? If you want to cause trouble, we’ll give you trouble.”
Jessica’s dad must be used to getting his own way, but yelling and threats didn’t affect her. She was about to tell him that when Ansel took the phone from her.
“Look at the contract you signed when you sold the house. It’s the same one Madeline signed when she sold it to us. We bought the house and all of its contents. The journals are ours. Stop yelling at my wife or we’ll talk to our lawyer. Don’t call here again.” And he hung up.
Jazzi stared at him. “I was going to explain about the contract.”
He pressed his lips together. Her Norseman got protective once in a while. “It wouldn’t matter what you told that idiot. He’s not the type to listen. He’s a yeller, like my dad.”
He was right. And Dalmar dismissed anything said by a woman. After reading Jessica’s journals, she knew Mr. Hodgkill had little respect for anything female either. She settled back on her sofa, putting the call behind her. She had no respect for bullies.
Chapter 20
On Tuesday, the butcher-block countertops came, and they looked perfect with the white cabinets. The only thing they still needed to do was install the backsplash. The tiles they’d chosen would take most of the day because the countertops on the back and side walls were so long.
Jerod was in a better mood, so he must have gotten more sleep. “The last tooth came through,” he told them. “Pete’s back on schedule. Life will be good until he cuts his molars.”
Gunther and Lizzie must have gone through the same thing when they cut teeth, but Jazzi didn’t remember it. Raising kids wasn’t all baking cookies and playing peekaboo. When it was their turn, she hoped she’d survive it.
Jerod scraped another layer of mortar on the wall, then reached for a tile. “I’m buying pork steaks to throw on the grill for supper tonight to celebrate.”
“My mom used to fry those,” Ansel said.
That didn’t surprise Jazzi. Dalmar watched every penny his wife spent. With three kids, Jerod budgeted, too. No one-inch chops for him, but whatever he made was good. The man was a solid cook. He just didn’t bother with fancy.
“I don’t know about other people, but the kids changed what we cook and eat,” he told them. “Franny read the articles that said if you start your kids on broccoli and spinach, they’ll love them. Not ours. They eat carrots, corn, and green beans without suffering, but the only broccoli they’ll touch is yours, and only if you drown it in cheese sauce.”
Jazzi laughed, applying the next row of mortar. “Didi says the same thing about River. She has to hide vegetables in soups or sauces to get him to eat them.”
“I’m not above that either.” Jerod grinned. “I bought an immersion blender, and Gunther and Lizzie don’t even know some of the vegetables I sneak into their food.”
Ansel scowled. “We ate whatever Mom put on our plates. No one cared if we liked it or not.”
His childhood was so different from hers. She shook her head, remembering. “I went through a phase when I only ate bologna, hot dogs, or peanut butter sandwiches. I remember Mom lecturing me about it.”
“But she still let you?” Ansel asked.
“Olivia and I were spoiled. What can I say?”
“You forgot pizza.” Jerod opened a new box of tiles. “Kids inhale that, especially pepperoni.”
“Kids change your life, that’s for sure. I’ve watched it happen with every one of my friends who started a family.” She turned to Ansel. “Have any of your old friends had kids yet?”
“I only stayed in contact with Ethan. And yeah, he’s struggling. He got married right out of high school, has two boys—four and one. His wife isn’t working right now, and money’s tight.”
They reached the last row at the top of the backsplash. Jazzi grimaced. “We’re going to have to start cutting the tiles to fit.”
They had a special saw for that. Jerod measured and Ansel cut while Jazzi mortared. Ansel pressed the last piece of tile into place, finishing the back wall, and they started on the side one with the refrigerator and more counters. It was nearly four when they finally finished. They were cleaning the tiles’ surface when someone knocked on the front door.
“Oh, no. Not Ruth again.” But when Jazzi went to greet her, it was a woman with short brown curls and a deep tan who peered through the screen at her.
“Hello? I’m Darcie Winters, a friend of Jessica’s when she was alive. Joe, from the hardware store, called me and said you were looking into Jessica’s death. Can we talk?”
Jazzi held the door open wider for her to come in. Darcie wore old jeans with stains at the knees. She was of medium height and looked fit and strong. She stopped to stare. “You’ve made the house beautiful. I hope someone buys it who’ll love it as much as Jessica did.”
“She loved it?” Jazzi hadn’t read that in her journals.
“She was so attached to it, it made her sad when she talked about leaving. But she had to, to get away from her dad.”
Jazzi motioned for her to take a seat at the card table in the front room. “Sorry. We carried everything out to work. This is the only place to sit.”
Darcie chuckled. “No problem. When I’m in the middle of a landscaping project, I usually end up sitting on a log or the grass.”
The men finished in the kitchen and came into the room to meet her. Jazzi made the introductions.
“Everything’s done for the day,” Jerod said. “I’m going to take off and head home. Nice meeting you, Darcie.”
Jazzi noticed her check out Jerod’s ring finger. Her cousin was a good-looking guy, and he had a mischievous gleam in his eyes. That gleam had attracted many a woman.
When he left, Darcie pinched her lips together. “Married?”
“With three kids.”
“Just checking. I couldn’t think about another man after my divorce a year ago, but then I decided I just needed to pick someone better the next time.” She quirked a brow at Ansel. “You’re too handsome. Besides, you can’t keep your eyes off your wife.” She grew somber. “But that’s not why I came. I heard that you were reading Jessica’s journals and were interested in her murder.”
“I don’t like the idea that her killer’s never been caught. I think Jessica got a bum deal all the way around.”
Darcie nodded. “Her dad was a tyrant. All other mortals were beneath him and Alwin. Men ruled supreme, and Hodgkill men were at the top of the pinnacle.”
Jazzi blurted out the question she really wanted an answer to. “Did her dad hate her enough to push her off the balcony?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me at all, but he couldn’t have done it. He was manning the grill all day.” Darcie clasped her hands together, looking nervous and excited at the same time. “You’ve made me realize that we all took sides when Jessica died, but we never sat down and thought things out. I’ve asked a few friends to stop by my house on Friday night to figure out who was at the party and exactly where they were when Jessica fell. I’ll question everyone in town if I have to. That way, we can rule out who didn’t kill her.” She straightened her shoulders. “This time, I’m going to find answers.”
“A great idea.” Jazzi glanced at Ansel as he settled at the table with them. He started to stretch his legs but stopped. They were too long. He’d cramp Darcie’s space. But now that Darcie was here, Jazzi had another question for her. “Do you remember if anyone unusual was at the party? We have a friend who’s a detective. He said another girl was murdered close to the same time Jessica died. Is it possible that girl was the main target and Jessica just reminded the killer of her?” Maybe she had events the wrong way around.
“I heard about that, and it made me wonder, too, but there were no strangers. Everyone there lived in Merlot. I was surprised to see Ruth Goggins. No adults were invited
, only Jessica’s class, but I got the idea she wasn’t invited. She came to keep an eye on RJ.”
Poor RJ. No wonder he’d hidden. Jazzi asked, “When you make your lists, will you let me know what you come up with?”
“That’s why I stopped here. We’d like you to come, too.” Darcie reached into her purse and handed Jazzi a business card. “We’re meeting at my house on Friday night at six. Can you make it?”
Ansel gave her a quick nod.
“I’ll be there,” Jazzi said. “And thanks.”
“You can bring tall, blond, and handsome, if you want.” Darci’s eyes sparkled, and she winked at him. “We don’t mind gorgeous scenery.”
Ansel shook his head. “I’ll stay home and work on the basement. We’re close to getting it finished.”
“Can’t say that I blame you for passing.” She looked back to Jazzi. “See you on Friday.”
After Darcie left, Jazzi tamped down hope that they’d finally make a new discovery. She knew the odds were against that, but the more people who helped, the better chance they had.
Ansel brooded on the drive home, wearing his glowering Viking look. Jazzi left him to it. When he was ready to tell her what was bothering him, he would. Finally, he said, “We just keep getting the same information over and over again with every person we talk to about Jessica.”
“But we learn a little bit more each time. Just not enough to do us any good.”
“I still think the other murdered woman and Jessica have to be connected.” He stopped for a red light and turned to her with a frown. “Don’t you?”
“They have to be. She looked like Jessica. It’s too much of a coincidence.”
Running a hand through his short blond hair, he made it spike in front. He looked good when it stood on end at his forehead. “This is the thing: A guy could lose his temper and give someone a push, sending her over the balcony by accident. But no one accidentally bashes a cheerleader with a rock behind a building. So the guy killed them both for some reason. But he stopped when Jessica died, which makes it look like she was his intended victim.”