The Body from the Past

by Judi Lynn

  Jazzi cursed under her breath. There was no water standing in puddles, but they couldn’t in good conscience call this a dry basement. This would take more work than simply patching crumbling cement. Still, it was just as well they knew they had a problem now rather than later. “We’ll have to dig a trench and drain the water away from the house.”

  Ansel nodded agreement. “The soil looks like clay. It’s going to be a pain to dig.”

  “First things first.” Jerod picked up his garage broom. “We’ll clean the crumbles off the walls and floor first and spread the new cement. Once it dries, we’ll seal it; then we can tell Thane we’re ready for him to install the new furnace. He can work in here while we work outside.”

  They spent the rest of the morning sweeping cement bits off the walls and floor to clean them. After lunch, they’d lay a thin layer of cement over all of them to seal what was there. Then they’d dig the trench to dry out the basement so the new cement would stay solid.

  “What are we eating today?” Jerod asked as they climbed up to the kitchen. He’d seen the slow cooker they’d carried in but was more interested in coffee this morning.

  “I thawed some of the soup Ansel and I froze ahead.”

  They washed up and were enjoying the creamy chicken and wild rice when her phone buzzed.

  Jerod’s brows shot up. “Gaff’s fast today. He must have found out something.”

  Without looking, she pulled it out of her pocket. “Hello.”

  “You just won’t leave things alone, will you?” Alwin sounded furious. “You found my peephole. Good for you. Did you have to tell your pet detective?”

  “It doesn’t make you look good.”

  “It doesn’t mean I pushed Jessica either. My father secretly hates women, but I love them. And I always admired Jessica. I couldn’t show it, or Dad would have disowned me, so I watched her.”

  “And you don’t think that’s wrong?”

  “She was a beautiful girl. Is that against the law? To enjoy a beautiful body? Who’s going to press charges? And can you prove anything?”

  “It’s still wrong.” And icky. She didn’t add that.

  “Don’t judge me. But know this: If I’d have pushed my sister, my fun would have ended.” He hung up.

  Jazzi stared at the phone. Then she frowned and turned to the guys, who’d heard every word of the conversation. “And if Jessica had left Merlot, his fun would have ended, too. I’m betting he thought about that.”

  Chapter 39

  There’s no joy in mixing bags of concrete and spreading them on walls and an extremely large floor. The basement had a musty smell, and even with the kitchen door open to, hopefully, allow fresh air downstairs, it was a dirty, smelly job. They started on the far end and had worked their way to the behemoth old furnace before quitting time for the day.

  Just before five, Jazzi’s cell phone buzzed. She glanced at the ID. “It’s Lydia, Jessica’s aunt.”

  When she answered, Lydia said, “I know this is last minute, but Lorraine’s agreed to talk to you. Can you drop by our house before you leave Merlot?”

  “We’re done at the fixer-upper. I can be there in a few minutes.”

  Ansel shook his head. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. You’re not going anywhere in Merlot without me.”

  She covered her phone. “Nothing will happen to me at Lydia’s house.”

  He crossed his arms, and Jazzi corrected herself. She told Lydia, “We’ll be there soon. Ansel’s coming with me.”

  “I heard, and he’s right. We’ll have drinks and snacks when you get here.”

  Jazzi put the leftover soup in the refrigerator so that it wouldn’t have to sit in the van. It was cold enough outside, it probably wouldn’t matter, but this way, they could have it for lunch any time they wanted. It only took them five minutes to reach Lydia’s house near the river, and when they started to the door, Lydia stepped outside to greet them. She saw Ansel crack the window for George.

  “Bring him in,” she called to him. “Clyde loves dogs. He’s behaved, isn’t he?”

  Ansel nodded and lifted George to carry him inside. Lydia led them to the sitting room again, and Clyde let out a hoot. “I’ve always had a fondness for pugs.” He patted the side of his chair, and Ansel set George there. George, being a dog who believed he deserved undivided attention, was happy to be fussed over.

  Ansel took a chair beside him, and Jazzi sat on the other side of the coffee table, near Lydia and the woman who must be Lorraine. Now she knew where Jessica got her beauty. Lorraine’s silky, platinum hair was pulled back in a knot, showing off her oval face and high cheekbones. She was tall and moved gracefully when she handed her a glass of wine.

  Lydia had gone to a lot of bother. A three-tiered tray held tiny pimiento cheese sandwiches, éclairs, and tarts. “This is lovely,” Jazzi told her. “I feel too shabby to eat it. We came straight from the job. We look a mess.”

  Lydia laughed, dismissing her. “Both Lorraine and I love to entertain. So did our parents. Clyde insisted we feed you something this time instead of only offering you drinks.”

  Clyde scanned the offerings. “I doubt there’s anything George would like. Should I get him some cold meat?”

  Ansel grinned and shook his head. “He’s happy with pie crust and pastry.”

  “A dog with refined tastes. Good boy.” Clyde patted him even more.

  “Everything on offer came from a shop. I used to bake more, but we don’t eat as many sweets as we used to. Do you like to cook?” Lydia asked.

  “I love to entertain,” Jazzi admitted. “But I rarely bother with anything this elegant. Thank you.”

  “Our pleasure.” Lydia motioned toward her sister. “I’d like to introduce you to Lorraine. We’re so pleased she’s come to visit us. I tried to talk her into stopping by her old house, but she didn’t want to see the changes you’ve made to it. You understand.”

  “I certainly do.” Jazzi turned her attention to her. “I’m so sorry I stirred up sad memories for you.”

  “It bothered me at first,” Lorraine admitted. “But now I’m grateful. One of the reasons we left here was because I couldn’t bear the idea of my daughter’s killer smiling to my face, and I’d never suspect. If the killer had been caught, I could have handled things better.”

  Again, Jazzi understood, but how would Lorraine feel if the killer ended up being her son? Instead, she said, “Then I’m sorry we exposed your husband’s affair. We never considered that.”

  Lorraine’s green eyes glittered. “How could you? I’m grateful for that, too. Lamar’s never been fun to live with. I’d have left him years ago, but he swore he’d fight me, tooth and nail, for custody of Alwin. Alwin needed me while he was growing up. His father was too demanding, expected too much. I couldn’t in good conscience leave my poor boy to withstand Lamar on his own.”

  “And now?” Jazzi asked.

  She grimaced. “After all these years of supporting him, his only concern when I filed for divorce was that I was ruining his future by demanding funds from the business he runs with his father. He’s a grown man. He can decide if he wants to see me or not. If money matters more to him than I do, he deserves his father.”

  Jazzi grinned. She’d pictured Lorraine as a bit of a weakling for tolerating a domineering husband for all these years. She was wrong. Lorraine had decided her son needed her and stuck it out, but it was possible she’d held her own in the household.

  Lydia asked, “What will you do after the divorce is final? Have you decided?”

  Lorraine took a sip of wine, considering the question. “You and my oldest, dearest friends are all in Merlot. It would be nice to return to the area, but I could never settle in town again. Depending, of course, on whether Jessica’s killer is caught this time.”

  Lydia locked gazes with Jazzi. “We’re counting on you,
dear. Poor Darcie’s already died trying to find the answers. We’re hoping you can finish what she started.”

  Nothing like too much pressure. Jazzi pinched her lips together. “We went to see Lila Mattock to ask her questions, but she’s in Carolina visiting her parents. She didn’t happen to stop by to visit your family, did she, Lorraine?”

  “If she did, I wasn’t there. I might have been at my lawyer’s office when she came.”

  “Were she and Alwin close?”

  Lorraine reached for a tart, her forehead creased. “I doubt it. She was Jessica’s age, too young for him. Besides, Alwin despised how she treated his sister. He wouldn’t have wanted to spend time with her.”

  Jazzi finished her éclair and wine, then glanced over at Ansel. He nodded.

  “Thank you for your hospitality, but we’d better go.” He started to stand when Jazzi’s cell phone buzzed. She glanced at it.

  “Gaff,” she said.

  Curious, Lydia leaned forward. “Your detective friend?”

  Jazzi nodded as she took his call. “Hi. We’re at Jessica’s aunt’s house right now, talking to her and Jessica’s mother.”

  “Good. Put the phone on Speaker.”

  She frowned but did as he said. “All set.”

  “Lila Mattock died in a car crash early this morning. She was driving home from Carolina after visiting her parents and swerved off the road, down a ravine, and wrapped her car around a tree. She died instantly.”

  “Something feels fishy,” Ansel said.

  Gaff heard him. “It sure does. She wasn’t on the highway. She was on a side road that led to the hotel where she was staying.”

  “She was staying at a hotel?” Jazzi asked. “She didn’t stay at her parents’ place?”

  “That’s the thing. Her parents thought she’d left two days ago. They didn’t know she was still in the area.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Another car left a lot of rubber on the road a few feet from where she swerved off.”

  “They saw the accident and braked to help her?”

  “It looked more as if another driver and Lila were playing a game of chicken.”

  “So she was forced off the road?”

  “That was the opinion of the cop who worked the accident scene.” He paused. “Any opinions, people?”

  “I left our house a few days ago to fly to see my sister,” Lorraine said. “Lila would never stop to see me. She knew I despised her. My husband used to be fond of her, though. He liked anyone who was cruel to our daughter. And Lila called him often to tattle on people in town. You should ask him if he met with her.”

  “And your son?”

  “He didn’t like her either.”

  “I’ll ask your husband, then, and thank you.” Gaff hung up.

  Jazzi returned her cell phone to her pocket. She felt numb. “Do you think…” She looked at Ansel.

  George could tell she was upset and came to rest his head on her knees. She gently stroked between his ears—his favorite spot.

  Ansel glanced at Lorraine. “Gaff learned that Lila lived way beyond her means, and he thought she might have been blackmailing someone. It’s just conjecture.”

  Lorraine reached for Lydia’s hand, and the two women gripped each other fiercely. “I can’t believe it,” Lorraine said. Her face and lips were stiff. “Lamar was a tyrant, but he’d never…” She stopped, suddenly uncertain. “He always accused me of having an affair, swore that Jessica wasn’t his.”

  Lydia snorted. “Transference. He would think that because he was having affairs.”

  “People have told me that he was working the grill when Jessica died,” Jazzi said.

  Lorraine brightened, but then fretted again. “He left for a while. I saw him. He’d splattered BBQ sauce on his good shirt and hurried upstairs to change. No one would have noticed if he was gone a short while once the food was served.”

  “Was that close to when Jessica fell?” Ansel asked.

  Lorraine frowned. “I can’t be sure. It’s been so long.”

  Ansel cringed, hesitant. “There’s something else.”

  Lorraine’s other hand gripped the edge of her chair. “Yes?”

  Ansel told her about the peephole.

  Color drained from her face, but then she frowned, troubled. “I often saw Lamar leave Alwin’s room once Alwin was away at college. I always thought it odd. When I asked him about it, he said he liked to go in there. It made him feel close to his son.”

  Lydia pressed a hand to her forehead. “Oh, Lord, he was a peeper, too.”

  Her voice broke, and Clyde stood to go to her and hug her. Soon, all three of them were hugging one another.

  “We’ll leave now,” Jazzi said, standing, too. “You have a lot to think about. And thanks for talking to us.”

  Clyde turned to walk with them to the door.

  “No need,” Ansel said, carrying George.

  “But there is.” He patted Jazzi’s shoulder. “It’s bothered you that you’ve upset us, but we’d rather know now than receive bad news as a complete surprise later.”

  She nodded and followed Ansel to the van, but she felt terrible. She hadn’t expected to like Jessica’s mom, but she did. And she really liked Lydia and Clyde. And what had she done? She’d been the deliverer of bad news, all the way around. If they never wanted to see her again, she’d understand.

  Chapter 40

  It was a cool day, but sweat dripped off Jazzi’s chin as she helped dig the trench around the Merlot house. They’d finished the cement in the basement and moved outside to work. When they’d started, they all wore hoodies. After an hour, they’d removed them. Even her long sleeves felt too warm, so she crammed them up to her elbows. After another hour, Jerod went to fetch them cans of soda and was returning when a car pulled into the drive. Stifling a groan, Jazzi quickly sipped from her can. Visits hadn’t gone well on this job. They’d been yelled at more often than not.

  A young man in his early thirties got out and walked toward them. “I’m sorry to bother you. I heard this house is for sale, but there’s no sign in the yard.”

  Jerod motioned to the trench they were digging. “That’s because we haven’t finished renovating it yet. We still have the basement to go.”

  “Everything else is done?” When Jerod nodded, he asked, “Can I see it? It’s a beauty. My wife and I both travel a lot for sales, and we do a lot of work from home. This would be a perfect location for us.”

  Jerod’s eyes lit up. A potential buyer. With a smile, he motioned toward the kitchen door. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

  They disappeared inside, and Ansel grinned at her. “We should have fixed the peephole in the bedrooms.”

  She shrugged. “Jerod has to tell him someone was murdered here. It’s only ethical. If that doesn’t stop him, neither will a peephole.” Not that Madeline had told them about Jessica. But maybe the Hodgkills hadn’t told her the entire truth either.

  They went back to digging. Jerod was gone quite a while before he led the prospective buyer out to see the patio and backyard.

  “I love it. Can I bring my wife by to see it when she gets back in town tomorrow?”

  “We’re here from nine to five,” Jerod said.

  “Perfect, I’ll give you a call before we come.” He drove away.

  Jerod turned to them, a big grin splitting his face. “He loved the place. He and his wife are both in sales. They entertain clients a lot. With five bedrooms, they’d each have an office and plenty of room for kids. His wife’s four months pregnant. We might have a sale.”

  “Did you tell them about Jessica?” Jazzi asked.

  Jerod nodded. “He said he and his wife love old houses, and they’d guess most of them had someone die in them at one time or another. Said they’re not superstitious.”

/>   She’d never thought about that, but he was probably right.

  Ansel leaned on his shovel and took a long slug of soda. “This place is getting far enough along, Jazzi and I have started looking for the next place to flip.”

  “Any luck? I’ve been looking, too. Haven’t seen anything I like.”

  Jazzi took the last swig of her drink and walked to toss the can in the trash. “I looked under ‘For Sale by Owner’ and saw a Dutch Colonial on the north side of River Bluffs.” They usually tried to avoid houses sold by occupants because people often were so fond of their homes, they expected too much money for them. But they’d bought this house directly from Madeline, and it had worked, so it couldn’t hurt to drive by the house in Kirkwood Park.

  Jerod made a face. “Sure, the north side would be a lot closer to you guys.”

  She shrugged. “Not that much closer. We live far enough northeast, it’s still a drive for us. The neighborhood is close to Coliseum Boulevard and Stellhorn. I’ve driven by it, but I’ve never driven through it before.”

  He nodded, a little less grumpy. “I could take Hillegas to the turn-off for Coliseum. That wouldn’t be too bad.”

  “Besides,” Jazzi pointed out, “you picked this house, and it’s not exactly an easy drive for us. You picked the house in Auburn, too.”

  Jerod raised a hand. “I get it. You’re right. Beggars can’t be choosers. Our choices are limited.”

  They agreed to check it out on Friday morning. Maybe they’d have the trench dug by then. But it wouldn’t dig itself. They got back to work and were all happy when it was finally lunchtime and they could stop for a while.

  Jazzi’s back ached when she bent to pass out ham and cheese sandwiches. She’d brought her panini maker and pressed each one so they were warm and the cheese was gooey.

  “You should open a restaurant,” Jerod said. “These are good.”

  George liked them, too, but Jazzi shook her head. “Cooking wouldn’t be fun if it was a job. Most restaurant owners put in long hours, longer than I’d want to.”

  “Guess you’ll just have to enjoy yourself cooking for us, then,” he teased.