She folded the last towel and brought it up to the main bathroom, hearing the phone ring on the way. Heading back downstairs, she now heard Cal in his office, ending what sounded like a personal call.
Seeing him come out of the room at the front of the house and off the living room, she stopped. His face was drawn with worry.
“My mother had a minor stroke,” he said, sounding shocked.
She could imagine what he felt. He’d estranged himself from his family and now his mother’s health had taken a turn.
“I have to go there.”
“Of course. You should.”
“You have to go with me.”
Whoa. “What? To see your family? I don’t think so. I’ll go stay with mine while you’re away. I won’t be alone.”
He shook his head. “You aren’t getting out of my sight. I can’t deal with that on top of my mother.” And the state of relations with my family, Jaslene could almost hear him think.
“Do you have someone to watch Rapunzel?”
She didn’t like the idea of leaving the puppy with anyone else. The poor dog had gone from one home to another.
“We won’t be gone long.”
“My sister is a dog person. I’ll ask her.” She went to him. “Is your mother going to be all right?”
“I think so. It was a minor stroke. My dad called it a transient ischemic attack and said the doctors are worried that may lead to a full-blown stroke in a matter of months. She needs treatment.”
He seemed unable to comprehend that something like this had happened to his mother. Jaslene put her hand on his muscular shoulder, wanting to comfort him somehow.
“Nobody is invincible,” she said. “At least she didn’t have a full-blown stroke first.”
“My whole family is invincible. She’s probably driving the doctors nuts with all her bossing around.”
Jaslene smiled. “Good for her.”
“She won’t lie down for a medical condition. She may not accept she has one and go on as though nothing happened.”
Cal dealt with so much death in his job, she could see how he’d be the more rational one in his family. The Chelseys might be aggressively ambitious, but Cal had his own brand of success.
Jaslene couldn’t wait to meet his family. They sounded like an interesting group of people. And she’d bet Cal was closer to them than he let on. Maybe getting to know them would give her more insight into his bias about love.
* * *
The next day, Jaslene’s sister agreed to watch Rapunzel, who’d warmed right up to her the moment Jaslene had dropped her off. Apparently, she had a social dog. That hadn’t remedied her reluctance to be away from the runaway. Canines were pack animals. They needed to be a part of a family unit.
Jaslene realized how much she’d bonded with the puppy and had to let go. Rapunzel was warm, safe and dry and she’d remain so until Jaslene returned. Cal would stay in touch with police in their search for Riley and she would feel safer several states away while they did.
They had arrived in Texas by plane and now drove toward Cal’s family’s ranch. She glanced over at Cal.
He stayed quiet all the way to Texas, though his mother had been released from the hospital when they drove. She’d asked questions but he’d been vague. The little he’d told her included the facts his parents had two homes, one in Irving and the ranch far outside the city of Dallas. She had gathered they had money. Growing up a doctor’s child, she hadn’t wanted for anything, but she had a feeling her parents were different from Cal’s financially and emotionally. Her parents raised their kids in a small town and had always been there for them, supportive and happy.
Cal drove the rented dark blue Buick through a grand iron gate and up a long, paved drive.
“Wow. Impressive,” she said. “How could you leave all of this?” He would have had it made.
“It’s not important to me.”
Helping people, victims and families of victims, was important. She felt even more of a connection to him. He didn’t place much importance on the wealth of his parents, or money in general. To her, living a good life meant doing what made her happy and feel fulfilled and treating people the way she liked to be treated. Cal had devoted his life’s work to avenging the dead. He was a true hero in her eyes.
As the tree-lined road cleared, a redbrick Tudor came into view, behind a stone circle drive fit for a mansion, and the shrub-bordered front entrance. She wouldn’t call this house a mansion by size alone, but it might as well be.
“I feel terribly underdressed,” she said.
“Don’t let them make you feel that way.”
Cal parked behind three other cars and then retrieved their luggage. He rang the bell, something Jaslene found peculiar.
A man who looked strikingly similar to Cal answered. Nearly as tall as Cal, he wore expensive-looking loafers and a smartwatch.
“Well, if it isn’t my long-lost brother.” He stuck out a hand. “How’ve you been, bro?”
His attempt to sound casual fell flat even to Jaslene, who knew nothing about this man.
“Corbin.” Cal shook his hand briefly and then put his hand on Jaslene’s back to let her in through the doorway first. “This is Jaslene Chabot.”
“Chabot. Are you French?”
She almost scoffed but covered the reaction with a short breath. What an odd thing to say upon first meeting someone. “Maybe somewhere down the line. I’m American.”
“Ah,” he responded neutrally.
Did he really think she’d be from France or was he just fishing for something to say?
“How’s Mom?”
“She’s been asking about you.” Corbin turned and led them through the paneled entry flanked by two curving stairs. Beyond the arch created by the grand staircase, a large living room spread to a wall of white-framed windows. Quite a vision upon first entry.
“When we told her you were coming, she brightened. Why haven’t you come back before now anyway? Are we too good for you?” Corbin winked back at Cal but Jaslene sensed he wasn’t completely kidding.
Cal didn’t respond as they climbed to the second level and onto a wide, open landing where two sets of double doors opened to a huge library. Past the stairs, two hallways branched off in opposite directions.
Cal put his luggage at the top of the stairs and Jaslene did, too, then followed him to the left. At the end of the hall, double doors opened to an enormous master bedroom with a canopied king bed and entire seating area before a fireplace and wall-hung TV above.
A blonde woman smiled as they entered the room, her bright green eyes rimmed with dark liner and mascara, lips shiny red. In a black-and-white fitted dress, she wore high heels and diamond earrings and necklace. Jaslene could see her massive wedding ring from here.
On the bed an older woman with sharply bobbed, graying dark hair spoke in a low volume to a tall, lean man in a suit with brown hair showing gray as well.
The woman saw them and she drew in a breath. “Cal.” She stuck out her arms. The man, who must be Cal’s father, stepped back to give his son room.
Cal went to his mother and bent to hug her. “Hello, Mother.”
Jaslene heard his tone and knew instantly that he loved his mother. She could see the way his father watched and eyed Cal with reticence and a trace of irritation. Cal’s escape from Texas still didn’t sit well with him, apparently.
“How are you feeling?” Cal asked as he withdrew. “And don’t give me your sass.”
She swatted her hand through the air above the taupe comforter folded up to her stomach. “I’m fine. Everyone is fussing over me too much. The doctors gave me medicine.” She looked up at Cal and gave a frustrated sigh. “I’ll take it.”
“You better.” He turned at last to his father. “Dad.”
“Son.”
I
t was the stiffest greeting she’d ever witnessed among family members.
“Who’s this you have with you?” his mother asked, peering around Cal’s body to see Jaslene.
“This is Jaslene Chabot, everyone. I’m working a case with her.”
“Hello,” Jaslene said to Cal’s mother.
“I’ll bet you’re working a lot more than that,” Corbin said.
“Stop being such a showman, Corbin,” said another woman, sitting on the couch. “You’re not that spectacular.”
Corbin scowled.
“This is my father, Newman, and my mother, Francesca.” Cal ignored his brother’s comment but added, “That’s Corbin’s wife, Ambrosia.”
This was getting more interesting by the second.
Nodding to a woman on the couch with long, thick, black hair in jeans and a red Western blouse, Cal added, “That cowgirl over there is my little sister, Skylar.”
Jaslene smiled at her. “Nice to meet you.” She couldn’t express how nice it really was, to have this glimpse into more of Cal.
“Come sit with me,” Skylar said. “I’ll save you from Corbin and my dad.”
Cal sat on the bed and started up a conversation with Francesca that Jaslene couldn’t hear. Newman looked on as though he held back from joining in. Corbin and his wife went to the foot of the bed and left Jaslene alone with Skylar.
Jaslene sat on the sofa, seeing a cowboy hat on the cushion beside Skylar.
“Are you a detective like Cal?” Skylar asked.
“No. He’s helping me find a friend of mine who’s gone missing.”
Skylar’s friendly face scrunched up. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“We’ll find her. Cal isn’t the giving-up kind.”
“Only if you exclude his family in that assessment.” Skylar looked away and toward the crowd around Francesca. They all seemed close to her, more of a family unit than Cal had described. His father did line up to what Cal had told her, and his brother, too, but not Francesca and Skylar.
“Did he tell you why he left Texas?” Jaslene asked.
“He married a woman who wanted to be closer to her family.” Skylar faced her again. “Did he tell you about her?”
“Only that she destroyed his faith in women.” She smiled at the twinkle in Skylar’s eyes. “He told me that he caught her with another man.”
“Don’t let that deter you. Cal is a lover at heart. I think that’s why he used the dingbat as an excuse to stay away. He was too much of a romantic to keep up with Corbin and Dad.”
“I don’t think he cares about keeping up with anyone. Cal has set his own rules about how to live.”
“Oh, trust me I know. I’m not saying he’s weak. He just needs more out of life than Corbin.” She glanced over. “Take Ambrosia, for example. Corbin only cares about being successful and having possessions that include a beautiful wife. She was a lingerie model. That’s the only reason my brother married her. He likes everyone looking at him with envy. She might as well be a plaque on the wall.”
Jaslene agreed, but some women found happiness in having a man who took care of them. Perhaps Ambrosia was content.
“My father is just plain ruthless in our oil business.” She looked around the room. “How do you think we got all of this? Cal’s right that our dad and brother are materialistic and greedy. I believe those are the words my brother would use.”
“Yes, they are.”
Skylar angled her head as she scrutinized Jaslene. “Wow. You two have talked a lot. It’s more than a case between you, isn’t it?”
Jaslene chose not to go there just yet. “Your mother doesn’t seem like she was ever a trophy wife.”
“Okay, I’ll wait until we get to know each other better.” Skylar’s easy acceptance of Jaslene’s preference to keep some things private drew Jaslene to her even more. “She isn’t a trophy wife. My father will never admit how much he adores her, either. He’s sort of an ass when it comes to love. My mother knows it and plays him like a fiddle. He’s putty in her hands.”
Jaslene laughed softly, not wanting anyone else to catch on. “I think I just met my next good friend.”
* * *
Sitting at the long, formal dining room table next to Jaslene later that night, Cal became increasingly uncomfortable with how chummy she and his little sister had become in such a short period of time. Eyeing Skylar, he placed a bowl of mashed potatoes in front of Jaslene. Sometimes his parents hired help to do the serving but not when it was just family.
As Jaslene scooped some potatoes onto her plate, Skylar, seated next to her, grinned slyly and then sipped some white wine.
He caught his father watching him again from his throne-like chair at the end of the table. Brooding, more like. Mother was asleep upstairs so it was just him, Jaslene and Skylar on this side of the table and his brother and his vacuous wife across from them.
“Why don’t you tell us about yourself, Jaslene?” his dad said. “Is your family from Chesterville?”
Jaslene brightened as she always did when she had an opportunity to talk about her family. “Yes. All of us. I have two brothers and a sister. My parents took an early retirement.”
“What did your father do?”
“He’s a doctor. A surgeon.”
Cal despised how his father’s interest grew. A doctor was someone he could respect. Had Jaslene’s father been someone lesser in his mind, like a mechanic or a carpenter, his reaction would have been considerably duller.
“My older brother, Darian, is an ear, nose and throat doctor. The youngest, Taber, is in college for engineering, and my older sister, Caley, is a...what would you call her...a jet-setter, I suppose. She married the son of a television executive.”
“Ah. Impressive.”
“I’m not sure if you’d call my sister impressive.” Jaslene breathed a laugh as she scooped vegetables onto her plate. “I love her to death but she’s a bit of a wanderer. So is her husband, with all his money, so I suppose they make a good pair.”
Cal looked over at Corbin, who glanced at his wife as though showing her off. Corbin smirked.
“And what is your profession?” Newman asked. “Cal’s last wife was a manager of a restaurant chain.”
Cal turned to his callous father but kept his face expressionless, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
“I’m a geologist. I took a leave from work to look for a friend of mine. Cal is helping me.”
“She’s a missing person,” Skylar said.
“Cal left the Chesterville police force to take her case,” Jaslene said. “He joined a private investigation firm called Dark Alley Investigations.”
Cal remained a quiet observer, seeing his father’s unspoken disapproval climb higher. “That sounds like something out of a Hollywood movie.”
“Actually, Kadin Tandy, the founder of DAI, is considering doing a television show about some of the cases he and his detectives have solved,” Cal said.
“Tandy?” his father said. “Never heard of him.”
“You wouldn’t,” Cal could not resist saying. “He isn’t into oil and guns.”
“It isn’t oil I’m into, son. It’s money.”
“Pardon me. My mistake.”
His father gave him a contemplative but condescending look and then turned back to Jaslene. “I never understood why Cal stayed in Chesterville after his divorce.”
Jaslene finished a bite of food and swallowed, fingering her wineglass. “Well, if he’s anything like me and my family, he likes the community.”
“Pie festivals and church?”
“There are festivals.” Jaslene nodded but met Newman’s insulting eyes with a frigid expression that Cal had never seen before. “Have you ever been to a small-town festival, Mr. Chelsey?”
“Thank goodness, no. My tastes are more.
..big city, if you will.”
“Well, then.” Jaslene picked up her wine and sent Newman another frosty look. “In that case, I don’t think you know enough to judge.”
Skylar snorted as a laugh burst from her and Cal grinned, meeting Jaslene’s eyes and hoping she saw the bravo in his. Now she’d understand why he’d left all those years ago.
But Jaslene wasn’t finished, he discovered.
“Maybe you should plan a visit to your son sometime. He could show you around. I hear you’ve never been there, much less called to talk to him.”
Newman’s stony expression met hers for several tense seconds.
“I’m getting tired.” More like bored. Ambrosia scooted her chair back. The company probably wasn’t glitzy enough for her. “If you’ll excuse me.” Then to her husband, she said, “Darling.”
“I’ll join you. It’s been a real treat seeing you again, Cal. You heading back tomorrow?”
“Maybe. I want to spend some more time with Mother.”
“Until morning, then.”
Cal noticed how his father averted his gaze at the mention of his mother. He was genuinely concerned for her. His love for Francesca was his only redeeming quality. The thought of losing her must be eating him up. For a second he almost felt sorry for him. But only a second.
* * *
Jaslene followed Cal’s father as he led them to their rooms. Cal trailed behind, seeming a little melancholy. They were staying in his family home, but Skylar, she had discovered, had her own house somewhere on the ranch property. She’d quipped just before she’d left that she wouldn’t be able to stand living with her parents. Corbin lived in Dallas, having no desire for ranching—the one difference between him and his father.
“The housekeeper brought your luggage to your room,” Newman said, stopping at a door at the end of a short hall off the living room. Jaslene looked behind her and to her sides. This was the only doorway.
“Uh...”
“Come on, Jaslene.” He guided her into the room and faced the doorway. “Thanks, Dad.” He shut the door.
She spun to face him. “Why did you do that?”
Cold Case Manhunt (Cold Case Detectives Book 7) Page 10