by Judi Lynn
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked.
“Don’t you worry ‘bout me. I been through enough bad times, I’ll get through this, too.”
Jazzi wished she could wrap the old woman in blankets of hugs, but her friends would be here this afternoon, and they’d help see her through this. She bent to kiss her cheek before she followed Gaff out the door.
Once in the car, Gaff said, “I’ll call her son. I have the information at the office. Ronnie sure let that woman down, though.” His voice was gruff. “And he probably isn’t going to be around to make up for it.”
Jazzi was thinking the same thing. That reminded her to tell him about Didi saying that the rumor about Gavin was that he’d killed two people but no one ever found the bodies. “Did you visit him this morning?”
“Sure did. He, his two brothers, and dad were all painting the inside of a house together. Own a company business. They do roofing in good weather and painting in bad. They were all smoking and joking because the jobs were so easy now that all four of them are out of the joint at the same time.”
Jazzi blinked. “That’s a rare thing?”
“For them. They go in and out like a revolving door. All built like refrigerators. All have nasty tempers. And they all like to drink.”
The word refrigerator reminded Jazzi of going to Maureen and Ray’s house last night. She told Gaff about Ray’s eye and fingers.
Gaff shook his head. “His wife knows someone beat him up, but she didn’t call me. Ray wouldn’t tell me anything anyway.”
“He must think he’s safe now, that whoever did that to him doesn’t think he was involved in whatever happened.”
Gaff’s scowl only deepened. “You’d think if the same guy who broke Ray’s fingers killed his son, Ray would tell us.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” The words left her lips before she thought them through, but that was her gut feeling. “I think Ray cares more about covering his own fanny than avenging Donovan.”
Gaff grimaced. “You might be right. For Ray, what’s done is done. Or maybe, if the guy who visited him was Gavin, he was afraid if he ratted on him, his brothers would come for him or Maureen.”
Jazzi hadn’t thought of that. “Is Gavin married?”
Gaff turned toward the center of town. It wouldn’t be long before she was back at work. “Married with two kids, eight and eleven. Bragged that his wife visited him every week and brought a carton of cigarettes. Got the feeling she didn’t care much what he did as long as she had enough money to pay bills.”
“Did you mention the rumor that he’d killed two people?”
“It came up when I told him about Ronnie disappearing. He just shrugged. Said I should check on Jarrett’s schedule for that night. When I told him Jarrett had been with Brianne the entire time, he laughed and said any smart woman would say that. Guess two women filed restraining orders against Jarrett before he went to prison.”
Jazzi let out a frustrated sigh. When every person seemed to be worse than the one before, how did you decide who did anything?
Gaff was passing Calhoun Street and glanced sideways at her. “Do you mind if I stop to talk to Ronnie’s coworkers before I take you home? The restaurant’s only a couple blocks away. They might remember if Ronnie said something the night he disappeared.”
“Sure, it won’t take long to talk to the cooks.”
He turned and headed to a small restaurant on the fringes of town. It served ribs, wings, and fries as its specialties. When he asked at the front counter, the hostess led them to the kitchen. The two cooks were working double shifts today.
The one was precooking wings and looked up and saw Gaff. When the wings were ready, he took them out and added more, calling to his friend, who was working on fries. “We got company! Look sharp.”
Their eyes lit up when they saw Jazzi and moseyed over to talk.
“You got a new partner, Gaff?” the first cook asked. “Looks like you moved up in the world.”
Gaff grinned. “No, this is a friend of mine. She went with me to an earlier interview. She’s good at soothing family members.”
“She can soothe me anytime,” the second guy joked. “What would you like to ask me, honey?”
She’d worked around enough men to appreciate these two. They both looked harmless. “We were hoping you’d remember some small thing that Ronnie said the night he disappeared that might help us find him.”
The first guy swiped his face with his apron. The kitchen was steamy. The second man had a blue bandanna wrapped around his forehead to catch the sweat. Bandanna said, “We’ve been talking about Ronnie. Can’t think of anything. We watched him get in his car and drive away. Told us he was going home. We liked the boy.”
“Even though he had a police record?” Gaff asked.
Apron man shrugged. “I spent some time in jail. Drunk and disorderly. Jed here got picked up for his stash of marijuana. We’ve been trying to talk the manager into hiring Ronnie as a cook.”
Gaff shook his head. “His probation officer came in a while ago, saw Ronnie drinking on his break.”
Bandanna man chuckled. “Small time stuff. He’d get a slap on the wrist for that. We told him so. Might spend a weekend in jail, but we’d take him some cigarettes.”
“The way we see it,” Apron added, “is Ronnie was a criminal by default. He didn’t have nothing better to do. If he became a cook, he could make a living. He’d never be rich, but he could always find a job.”
“The boy swore he’d never go back to prison.” The timer buzzed on the second batch of wings and Bandanna went to dump them out of the fry basket and add more.
Apron nodded. “He’d never make it there on his own.”
Gaff started buttoning up his coat again. “Ronnie didn’t say anything about meeting anyone or hiding out somewhere?”
They both shook their heads.
“Thanks,” he told them.
They smiled at Jazzi. “You come back and see us anytime. We’ll sneak you free wings.”
She laughed. “I’ll remember that.”
Outside, Gaff held the car door for her, then drove toward the fixer-upper. “Thanks for going with me today. I wanted to make it as easy as I could for Ronnie’s grandma, and the two cooks sure liked seeing you.”
“They’re decent guys.”
“Yeah, they would have been good for Ronnie.”
But Ronnie had never made it home, and his grandma would fret, not knowing what happened to him.
Chapter 21
It was hard for Jazzi to shift gears and get into home repairs again. But they were making progress on the Victorian. With any luck, they’d have the interior finished by the time the weather turned warm enough to work outside.
The guys were still busy finishing the walls for the attic bathroom, so she grabbed the tape to start finishing the ceiling’s seams. It meant holding her hands above her head again. She was a strong woman, but that got to her back and neck every time. She was relieved when Jerod’s cell phone beeped and they took a quick break. He walked a little distance away to hear better. When he returned to them, he said, “Franny says you and Ansel have been so nice to us, she’d like to have you over for pizza tonight. Can you make it?”
“Hmm, tough call. Great company. No cooking. We’ll be there,” Jazzi said. “But are you sure? Peter’s still waking you up every night, isn’t he?”
“That comes with the territory.” He pressed his phone to his ear. “It’s a go, babe.”
When he hung up, Jazzi asked, “Can I bring anything?”
“Just yourselves. I have plenty of wine and beer. We’re talking about a small menu.”
“Perfect.” She didn’t need any fancy extras when pizza was on offer.
Jerod grinned. “I’ll call in the order and pick up the pizzas on my way home. This isn’t a
hint for more, but we’ve gone through all your food, so Franny thought of pizza and then she thought of you two. We’re more in the rhythm with Peter now, and Franny’s not as wiped out from giving birth. Things are falling in place again.”
“But Peter still doesn’t sleep through the night?” Jazzi didn’t think she could function on short rations of sleep.
“That would be a miracle, but no. Gunther and Lizzie didn’t until they were six or seven weeks old. But when Peter takes his nap and the kids are in preschool, Franny gets a quick nap, too. We take turns sleeping in on the weekends, and Gunther and Lizzie watch cartoons until we get up. We’re all adjusting.”
He did look better. Regardless of what he said, though, Jazzi intended to make one more batch of food for them. For nights when things didn’t fall into place.
Jerod nodded to the last few studs they needed to cover to finish the wall. “If you two finish that, I’ll call in the order and we can take off at five.”
Even better. Ceiling work could wait until tomorrow.
Half an hour later, Ansel carried George down the steps and to the van. Jazzi grabbed the cooler, but left the panini maker. It was going to be cold outside again tomorrow. Then they locked up and went their separate ways.
“Want to stop on the way and buy some ice cream for dessert?” Ansel asked. “It will take Jerod a minute to grab the pizzas.”
Jazzi liked the idea. She grabbed some toppings, too—hot fudge, caramel sauce, and maraschino cherries. When they pulled into Jerod’s drive, he was walking to the house, balancing the pizza boxes. Jazzi followed him with the grocery bag, and Ansel cradled George in his arms. It was a good thing Ansel had biceps like iron. The dog was no lightweight. She wouldn’t be able to carry him as far as Ansel did.
Franny smiled when she saw them. Her carrot colored hair was pulled back in a bun, and dark circles still rimmed her eyes, but she did look better. “I’m glad you could make it at short notice. We’re grateful for all the food you sent.”
“Glad to help out.” Lizzie ran and held up her hands for Jazzi to lift her. Ugh! Her arms were sore, but how could she turn down such a cute kid? Gunther went straight to Ansel. He put down George and reached for Gunther. They carried both kids to the table, and Jerod passed out paper plates, then flipped the lids open on the pizza boxes.
People talked over each other, the kids talking about their day at school, and Franny excited that she got to spend an hour refinishing a buffet she bought at an auction. Peter slept through it all.
“My mom told me not to tiptoe around when a baby naps. She said if you do, they’ll wake up at every little noise. She was right. I run the sweeper and bang dishes while Peter sleeps, and nothing fazes him.” Franny finished her third slice of meat lovers’ pizza.
Jazzi liked Franny’s mom. She didn’t see her often, but Hilda struck her as a practical, cheerful woman. “Is your mom having a hard time staying away from the baby?”
Franny laughed. “She comes here every day she doesn’t have to work. Of course, that’s sort of rare.” Hilda restocked the produce aisle at a grocery store and volunteered at a pet shelter. The woman knew half the people in River Bluffs, or it seemed that way.
“Has she volunteered to babysit yet?”
“She’s ready. I want to wait till Peter sleeps through the night.” Franny reached for a Pepsi. She never drank alcohol when she was nursing. “Right now, she’s been fussing over a young guy she works with at the store. He sacks groceries and stocks shelves. He told her that he needed more hours and more money, and a guy offered him a side job, but he didn’t feel good about taking it.”
“What kind of side job?”
“The guy said he’d only need him once in a while but there’d be good money in it each time he called him.”
Jazzi couldn’t help but think of Ronnie. Those kinds of side jobs got you in a lot of trouble. “What did your mom tell him?”
“That if the money was too good, there was something wrong with it. She told the kid to steer clear of him. But she worries that the money will be too tempting, so she keeps checking on him.”
“Your mom’s one of the best.”
Franny grinned and nodded. “She and Dad did a pretty good job with my three sisters and me.”
Jazzi sometimes forgot that Franny had three sisters. Two of them lived in town, but Sandy had moved to Cleveland, and Jazzi had only seen her at Jerod and Franny’s wedding.
Ansel swallowed his last bite of sausage and mushroom and got up to carry the ice cream and toppings to the table. “I’m surprised the kid at the store talked to your mom about that.”
Jerod snorted. “Hilda’s like Franny and Jazzi. People confide in them all the time, even people who hardly know them.”
Ansel’s gaze met Jazzi’s. “That’s true. Strangers tell Jazzi stuff that surprises me.”
Jerod scooped two balls of butter pecan ice cream into Franny’s bowl and doused them with hot fudge. “Our women look approachable, have that good listener look, like they’d sympathize.”
Was that why people confided in her? Jazzi didn’t feel approachable, but did anyone see himself the way others saw him? She wanted to know more about the kid. “Did the boy listen to your mom?”
Peter fussed, and Franny cocked her head to listen. When he was quiet again, she said, “The boy told Mom that he didn’t know the guy who called and that worried him. I guess the kid’s buddy met him and blabbed that they’d spent time together in juvie. The buddy’s on parole.”
“Why was his buddy on parole?” Jazzi drizzled both caramel sauce and hot fudge over her butter pecan.
“Got in a bar fight. Some drunk was pestering his girlfriend. They ended up in a brawl.”
“And he got in trouble for that?” Ansel asked. “It sounds like the other man started it.”
Franny nodded. “He wasn’t twenty-one. He shouldn’t have been in the bar. Had a fake ID. When the cop looked him up, he had a warrant for disorderly conduct.”
“Well that explains it. Kids that age like to bend the rules.” Ansel drained his beer bottle, and Jerod handed him a fresh one.
Peter’s cry this time was more insistent. Franny gulped the last of her dessert, then hurried to the bassinet in the living room. While she nursed him, the rest of them finished up and helped clear the table, putting all of the extra pizza in one box to save. When Franny returned, she put Peter to her shoulder to burp. Jazzi couldn’t believe such a loud noise could come from such a small body.
Ansel went to stare at him. When Franny offered to let him hold him, he gladly took the baby and held him to his shoulder, too. That’s when spit up spewed all over his flannel shirt. Franny grabbed a napkin to swipe it off, but the smell was rank. Ansel shrugged. “When you work in a barn, it can be worse.”
Jerod laughed and reached for his son. Jazzi and Ansel went for their winter coats and Ansel carried George back to the van. As far as Jazzi knew, George’s paws only touched snow when they let him out to do his number.
When they got home, the cats hunched in front of their food bowls and meowed. Ansel and Jazzi hadn’t come straight home after work, and the cats were hungry. While Jazzi fed and petted them, Ansel frowned at a missed message on his cell phone.
“Bain called.”
“You’d better call him back.” George came for a treat, too, and she gave him one. The pug hadn’t begged for pizza, which had surprised her. But he tried not to get too close to Jerod’s kids.
Ansel put his phone on speaker when Bain said, “Jazzi might want to hear this, too.”
“How’s the farm?” Ansel asked.
“We’re getting caught up, but what I wanted to let you know is that I took Mom to the doctor in town. She’s anemic and low on vitamin D. Both things they can fix, but she’s diabetic, too. She needs to take a class to teach her how to manage her blood sugar. The doctor recommen
ded that she takes a week off to rest and get stronger. She’s so far behind on cleaning and cooking, I hired a local girl to help out for a week. I’m paying for her out of my own money. Dad isn’t happy about it. He thinks that money could go into the farm, but Mom needs help. The doctor wants to see her three times a year until her numbers get stable. He says to think of it as maintenance.”
Ansel’s lips pressed together in a tight line. Sometimes, Jazzi knew, he’d like to throttle his dad. “Jazzi and I want to help out. We’ll send money for the girl to stay an extra week.”
“That’s not necessary. I can cover it,” Bain said.
“She’s my mom, too. We want to.” He glanced at Jazzi, and she nodded. “I’ll tell Radley, and he might want to pitch in, too.”
“Any help will be appreciated.” Bain sounded sincere.
“We’ll send it Quick Pay to your account,” Ansel said. “Make sure Mom gets all the help she needs. And thanks for taking her in. Dad never would have done it.”
“I know. I’m starting to see that side of Dad. And he’s going to let me plant orchards and start beehives this spring, or else.”
Ansel smiled. “Flex your muscles, bro. You have rights, too.”
When they hung up, Ansel reached for her and held her close. They just stood and hugged, swaying together. Her Norseman needed some TLC, and she was happy to oblige.
Chapter 22
On Thursday, Jazzi decided to run to the store after she dropped Ansel at the fixer-upper. They’d intended to buy more deli meat and bread last night, but they’d forgotten after the pizza and Jerod’s kids. The kids had a way of wearing them out. She didn’t know how Jerod did it, but he swore when they were your own, it was different, you settled into a pattern. Still, no one would be happy with peanut butter on crackers for lunch.
Ansel was happy to let her drive to New Haven. The man felt no need to prove his manliness and was more than okay with letting her climb behind the steering wheel. When they reached the house, he leaned over to kiss her before he scooped up George and headed inside.