The Body in the Apartment

by Judi Lynn

  “I’m Jazzi Zanders.” She took a seat next to Gaff on the sofa across from them.

  Maureen had the same sandy colored hair and brown eyes as her son, but Donovan got his size from his dad, who looked to be five ten with a medium build. Ray didn’t have the sweet expression Donovan had, though. His mouth and eyes had a sharpness that made him look like someone to steer clear of.

  Narrowing his eyes, he looked Jazzi up and down. “You’re a looker. Wish Donovan would have fallen for you instead of that piece of trash he lived with for a while. Glad she dumped him. Heard he’d found someone new, but he didn’t bring her to see us.”

  Jazzi wasn’t sure what to say. “I only recently met Donovan. He was the supervisor and trainer for my husband’s brother. Radley thought the world of him.”

  Sneering, Ray was ready with another snarky comment. “Radley—yeah, we heard that name. Hung out with another guy Don worked with, a Thane, right?”

  Disliking his tone, Jazzi stared and said nothing.

  Gaff pulled out his notepad and pen before jumping into the conversation. “It would help me to know some background on Donovan. Who were his friends? Was there anyone he didn’t get along with? Did he run into trouble somewhere—have a gambling problem or anything like that?”

  Maureen’s eyes went wide. “Donovan was a good boy. He never gave us trouble. His older brother went through a rocky streak before he moved to South Carolina. Got himself together, and now we never see him.”

  “Our Donovan was a real do-gooder, didn’t approve of how much I drink. No wonder his first girl moved out on him.” Ray’s lips turned down. “She was a wild child, stayed with him until she got back on her feet, and then the minute her first boyfriend got out of prison, she went back to him.”

  Maureen dabbed at the edges of her eyes. “Donovan thought he could help her, thought she’d change. You know how that works.”

  Jazzi thought about her ex-fiancée, Chad. After they’d moved in together, he’d thought he could change her, too, talk her into staying home and raising babies. They broke up soon after that. Ansel was happy with her just the way she was. Of course, it was mutual. Who’d want to change Ansel?

  The tap of Gaff’s pen filled the silence as he thought. “How long were Donovan and this first girl together?”

  “They didn’t move in together right away,” Maureen said. “But she kept giving him her sad stories, and finally, he took her in. That lasted about a year.”

  “How long since they broke up?”

  Ray scratched his chin. “Maybe five months. He’s been seeing the new girl the last two months. Donovan couldn’t stop talking about how nice she was. We never met her, just heard about her. Heck, anyone would seem nice after Miss User.”

  “Got any names for me?” Gaff poised his pen over the page.

  “Brianne Buckley was the first one,” Maureen said. “Elspeth Smythe, with a y and an e, was the second.”

  “Did Donovan have any friends who got into trouble?”

  Maureen shook her head. “He chose friends a lot better than girlfriends.”

  “Anything else you can think of that might help me?” Gaff asked.

  They looked at each other and shrugged.

  Pushing to his feet, Gaff motioned for Jazzi to join him. “Well, we’d better go now. And thanks for your time.”

  Maureen grabbed hold of Jazzi’s hand as she walked past her. “We heard you’re the one who called 911 to get help for our boy. Thank you. You tried.”

  Jazzi’s throat tightened again. She could still see Donovan stumbling into the hallway, bleeding heavily. “I wish I could have done more.”

  Maureen’s voice hitched, ending on a high note. “You tried. There wasn’t anything anyone could do.”

  Gaff put his hand at the base of Jazzi’s back and led her out of the house. “Thanks for coming with me. It helped them.”

  “Did we get anything that might help you?” She slid onto the passenger seat and Gaff shut her door for her, then walked to the driver’s side.

  “Maybe. Interesting that Donovan’s ex had a boyfriend who went to prison.”

  She’d noticed that, too. As he pulled away and started back to the north side of the city, Jazzi asked, “Will you let us know what you find?”

  “Be glad to. We might have a jump off point. Didi’s ex-husband went to prison, too, didn’t he? Maybe there’s a connection. Now I start digging. I’ll question anyone and everyone I can.” He raised an eyebrow. “How’s Ansel’s brother holding up, stuck at your house?”

  Jazzi rolled her eyes. “He’s a peach. He can make you want to throttle him when he’s at his best. The longer this goes, the worse he’s going to be.”

  Grinning, Gaff said, “I’ll try to hurry for your sake.”

  But investigations went at their own speed. She’d learned that the hard way. She put that thought behind her and decided to change the subject. “I hope you and Ann have a great dinner out.”

  “Thanks, I always enjoy time with my Ann.” Gaff glanced at his watch. “And remind your Viking, I’m getting you home in plenty of time to look scrumptious for him. He isn’t too happy with me when I mess up one of your date nights. And he can look intimidating.”

  Ansel’s bark was worse than his bite, but when he crossed his arms over his chest and scowled down at someone, he did make an impression. “He doesn’t even have to try, but he’s usually easygoing.”

  “Yeah, and I’d like to keep him that way. So you two have a great night, too.”

  They made small talk the rest of the drive, and when she got out of the car and started to the house, Ansel threw open the door to tug her inside. Yup, her Norseman was tired of talking to his brother and was ready for a fun night out.

  “Radley’s coming to pick up Bain and take him out to eat,” Ansel told her.

  “That’ll be good for both of them.” Radley had just lost a good friend, and his brother was the number one suspect for killing him. They could commiserate with each other.

  She and Ansel hurried to shower and dress up for their celebration. When she came down the stairs, Ansel was wearing black dress slacks and a red shirt. The red was almost a perfect match for her dress. She laughed. “Did you do that on purpose?”

  “Sure did. I want the world to know we’re a couple.” His gaze slid over her. The dress’s boatneck collar set off her long neck. It fit snugly until it passed her hips and flared in soft folds past her knees. “You look wonderful.”

  “So do you.” They were both blond with blue eyes. Both dressed in red. Was that overkill? Who cared? She pulled on her black, wool coat and Ansel offered his arm to walk her to her pickup.

  “I don’t want to talk about anything serious tonight,” he said on the drive into town. He flipped on music instead.

  As always, the Oyster Bar was crammed full of people. A waitress led them to their reserved table, and they sipped wine while they waited on their food. Jazzi always ended up getting the same thing each time she came here—the almond-crusted walleye. Tonight, Ansel ordered the cioppino. Afterward, they shared a decadent slice of dark chocolate cake. When they paid and left a generous tip, they were both feeling spoiled and replete.

  It didn’t start snowing until they were leaving the restaurant. It didn’t accumulate until after they got home. The Fates had given them decent weather for their celebration. They didn’t stop there. While the world was blanketed in white, they closed the pets out of their room and enjoyed more time together. It was way past their bedtime before they invited George and the cats to sleep with them.

  As she drifted into slumber, thoughts of Donovan and Didi flitted into her mind, but she pushed them away. She could worry about murder and ex-cons tomorrow.

  Chapter 8

  On Tuesday, Jazzi and Ansel got off to a rough start. Too little sleep made them sluggish. They finally loaded
the cooler full of sandwiches and chips into the van, and Ansel carried George to the back seat so the pug could supervise their work for the day. On the drive to the Victorian in New Haven, they didn’t talk much. They were both still a little groggy.

  Road crews had cleared last night’s snow, and hopefully, today’s was only supposed to amount to a fine powder. Ansel cranked the heater higher to ward off the chill. The temperature had dipped during the night and more foreboding clouds hunkered over River Bluffs. “Are Gran and Samantha coming tonight to help you bake and make brittle?”

  Gran had helped her make Easter bags for everyone in the family for years. “If the weather holds. Neither of them drives in bad weather anymore. Didi and River are coming, too.”

  “Are we feeding them supper?”

  “Sort of.” She wasn’t much in the mood to make anything serious after how much she ate last night. “I bought a lot of pot stickers for people to nosh on.”

  “I like those. Will they be enough?” Ansel had a hefty appetite. He frowned, obviously anticipating near starvation with no formal supper. “Since Walker’s bringing Didi and River, I’ll grab him, and we’ll run to buy some egg rolls and crab ragoon.”

  That meant Walker would be staying, too. She shrugged. “Whatever. You guys can’t eat every cookie we make. I need enough to freeze for presents.”

  They turned onto the street toward the Victorian. “Give us a number. We’ll count them out and make sure to leave yours alone.”

  She held in a sigh. This was getting complicated. Most years, Gran and Samantha came to help with a batch of cookies or two, and then she did the rest. She’d already made the dough for the chocolate crinkles and put it in the freezer. It was so sticky, it had to be cold before they could handle it. But even baking worried her. She hoped she didn’t get distracted and burn something with so many people underfoot. She’d have to set every timer she had in the kitchen.

  Ansel pulled into the driveway behind Jerod’s pickup.

  “Franny must still be biding her time.” Jazzi grabbed the cooler to carry in while Ansel picked up George. The minute they walked through the back door, Jerod’s anxious energy hit them.

  Ansel put George on the dog bed he took to each work site and tossed his coat over the stair railing. “How did your supper go last night?”

  Jerod leaned the piece of drywall he’d carried against the front wall. “Great. Franny loved it. She ate too many of the chocolates, though, and got heartburn. When I left this morning, the baby had dropped. Franny promised me she’d sit on the couch most of the day and take it easy. She’s really uncomfortable now.”

  “Call us for D-Day,” Ansel told him. Her hunk had started calling Franny’s delivery day that.

  Jazzi tossed her coat on the railing next to his and strapped on her tool belt. “And if you need anything, let us know.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.” Jerod pushed the drywall into place and Jazzi grabbed her nail gun. The yakking stopped and the work began, but he kept pulling out his phone to check for calls.

  Finally, Jazzi said. “If you’ve checked your cell once, you’ve checked it a hundred times. Why don’t you just go home and stay with her? You’re a nervous wreck.”

  “I wanted to. She wouldn’t let me. She said I’d drive her nuts.” Jerod ran a hand through his thick brown hair. Her cousin had beautiful blue eyes rimmed by long lashes. Jazzi hoped the baby inherited those.

  “Smart woman. She sent you here to drive us nuts.” Ansel laughed at him.

  With a grunt, Jerod lifted another piece of drywall. He was almost as tall as Ansel but with a beefier build. “Let’s get this done.”

  He threw himself into the job, and by the end of the day, the drywall was up. Tomorrow, they’d start taping the seams and mudding it. Hopefully, Jerod wouldn’t join them. He’d be at the hospital, holding his new baby boy.

  After a quick sweep, they pulled on their coats and headed to their vehicles. Jerod hopped behind the steering wheel of his truck and took off, in a hurry to get home. Ansel loaded George onto the backseat of the van and shook his head. “I sure hope Franny has that baby before we have to sedate your cousin.”

  “He got this nervous with the first two,” Jazzi said, “and Gunther came late. I thought he was going to lose it.”

  On the drive home, a few snowflakes swirled past the van’s windows, but once they hit the pavement, they melted. Good. All Jerod needed was bad roads when he had to drive Franny to the hospital. And she didn’t like the idea of Samantha on slippery streets.

  When she walked inside their stone cottage, the cats raced to her, winding around her ankles. She stooped to pet them before she opened a can of food to split between their dishes. Ansel carried in George, and footsteps sounded on the stairs. Bain came down to join them.

  “I have to do something,” he said. “I can’t stand sitting around the house another day. Dad called and he’s having trouble getting everything done on the farm, even with the neighbor kid coming to help out. I sit here and worry about the milking and feeding times. I need something to do. Can I help you on your fixer-upper? Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

  Ansel locked gazes with Jazzi. He wouldn’t drag Bain along with them if she didn’t like the idea. She didn’t like it, but she understood how Bain must feel.

  With a grimace, she nodded. “There are always plenty of small things that need to be done, but if Jerod’s there, you have to take him in stride. He loves to poke fun. He won’t stop just because you’re Ansel’s brother.”

  “I won’t blow up. I’ll keep my mouth shut, but I can’t stand looking at these four walls anymore. I’m used to working from early morning until the last chore’s done.”

  “Okay, we leave at seven thirty every morning. Be ready.” Ansel gestured around the kitchen. “We’re going to be invaded soon by people coming to help Jazzi bake and make candy. We’re making pot stickers for supper. Are you up for that?”

  Bain’s expression looked pained. “How often do you guys entertain?”

  “Lots more than you do. We like people. The women will be fussing out here, but you’re welcome to join Walker and me in the living room.”

  Bain nodded. “I’ve met Walker. He’s okay. I’ll eat with you guys.”

  That settled, Ansel went up for a quick shower while Jazzi went to the cupboards and started putting out the ingredients they’d need for their group cooking tonight. Then she put a huge pot of water on the stove to boil. When everyone got here, all she’d have to do was pop the pot stickers in the pot while Ansel and Walker ran to get the rest of the meal. She’d taken the easy way out and bought the dipping sauce.

  When Ansel returned, she hurried upstairs to shower and get ready. Walker got there first with Didi and River. He came in and immediately told them, “I drove Didi to her house this afternoon while River was in school. She wanted to pick up more stuff to keep at my place. While she was grabbing clothes, I bundled up her mail to take with us and a car slowed way down in front of her house, casing it. When the driver saw me, he sped away.”

  “Did you tell Gaff?” Jazzi asked.

  Walker nodded. “Something’s still going on over there. I don’t want Didi staying there until we’re sure it’s safe.”

  River spotted the cats and bent to pet Marmalade. The orange cat purred, but when he reached for Inky, her ebony fur brat arched his back and hissed.

  “He’s a naughty one,” Jazzi told the boy. “But if you pull a string for him, he’ll chase it until you’re too tired to play with him.”

  “Do you have a string?”

  Jazzi took a long one out of the kitchen junk drawer. “We had them declawed, so he can’t scratch you.”

  Flicking the string, River took off and the cats chased after him. Jazzi watched them for a while. She might have been wrong. Little boys had more energy than she did. The cats might wear o
ut before River did.

  Ansel, Walker, and Bain left to buy the egg rolls and crab ragoon before Gran and Samantha stepped into the house. After hanging her coat on the coat tree by the door, Gran went straight to the refrigerator to pour herself a glass of wine. Gran was spry for eighty years old, a little senile, but plenty savvy. Her shoulders stooped a little, and her blond hair had turned white. She pulled it into a loose bun. Her blue eyes sparkled with curiosity. When she was stressed, she always thought Jazzi was her dead sister, Sarah, and she slipped into the past, but other than that, she didn’t miss much.

  “I need inspiration while I cook,” Gran told them. “How was Jerod today?”

  Jazzi put a cheese ball and crackers on the kitchen island. It was safer not to drink on an empty stomach. “He was a mess. You know how he gets.”

  Gran smiled. “His Peter will come at three tomorrow. Then he’ll be a happy man.”

  “Peter?” Samantha cocked her head at Gran.

  “The new baby. Franny will take one look at his blond hair and blue eyes and think of Peter and the Wolf.”

  Peter. Jazzi savored the name and decided she liked it.

  Gran grimaced. “Jerod’s going to call him Pete, though. Franny will have to get used to that.”

  Samantha laughed. The short, plump widow who’d moved in with Gran had become part of their family. “She loves that man. She won’t mind.”

  Everyone got drinks and a few crackers before Jazzi heard Ansel’s van pull back into the drive. She dropped the pot stickers in the boiling water. They didn’t take long. Then she put out paper plates. She was keeping things easy tonight.

  Once the food was loaded on the kitchen island, people grabbed plates and got started.

  Gran studied Didi and asked, “Tell us about your Gil. He was a good man, wasn’t he? Even if he wasn’t much of a husband.”

  Didi’s wavy black hair was pulled back in a hairband tonight. She pushed at a strand that had worked free and pinched her lips together. Finally, she said, “He was a good man. That’s the part that was so sad, but he ran with a rough crowd. And he’d rather spend time with them than me. He kind of treated a younger guy in their group, Ronnie, as a kid brother. He did his best to keep him out of trouble, but Ronnie was attracted to it like a fish to a red worm.”