by Judi Lynn
Gaff tried to change her mind. “Ronnie served time for it and it cost him his life. The tech company already collected insurance for it. I’m betting they’d offer a reward for its return.”
She rocked harder, shaking her head. “Every penny would make me think of my Ronnie. I have everthin’ I need. House is paid for. I don’t drive. Only thing I pine for is to visit my sister in Georgia, stay with her a while.”
Jazzi wondered how old her sister must be. Did she still live in her own home, too? “Is she younger than you?”
Mrs. Reynolds chuckled. “No, baby, four years older. Women in my family don’t die till they have to.”
“Can she still get around? Keep up a house?” Jazzi tried to picture Ronnie’s grandma four years from now.
“Sure ‘nuff. We go till we drop. You get me and Henrietta together with a little moonshine, and we know how to have a good time.”
Gaff leaned forward, pressing his hands together to gesture at her. “There. See? That’s a great idea, a way to use a little of Ronnie’s money to honor him! That would help us tremendously. If we book you a flight and you leave this house, we can leak the news of your new inheritance to bait a trap. Whoever killed Ronnie will show up, looking for it.”
She stopped rocking, frowned at him, suspicious. “Using that money would help you catch the man who hurt my boy?”
“It’s worth a try,” Gaff said.
She sat back in her chair, a determined expression on her wrinkled face. “If that money will catch my boy’s killer, it’ll bring me peace.”
Gaff turned to glance at Jazzi. “Tell her. We can’t try out my plan if she’s in town. It’s too dangerous. She could be hurt. I won’t have that on my conscience.”
“He’s right,” Jazzi said. “Ronnie’s killer is ruthless and brutal. He’s put two women in the hospital.”
Her eyes went wide. “He hits women? No man should lay a finger on a woman or child.”
Jazzi didn’t try to keep the anger out of her voice. “This killer doesn’t care who he hurts. It seems to me he enjoys it.”
The old woman sighed. “Okay, I’ll go. But if you can, give the rest of the money to the people Ronnie shoulda give it to. Seems to me, they’ve paid for their sins over and over again.” She brightened. “That’d be a good way to catch this crook, wouldn’t it? If I called ‘em and said Ronnie’s lawyer gave me his money, but they can have it all? I don’t want it.”
Gaff rubbed his hands together, excited. “Actually, that’s perfect. You get the arrangements made to visit your sister and right before Jazzi drives you to the airport, you call Jarrett and Gavin. You leave, and I’ll stay at the house with two of my men to stake it out.”
Jazzi blinked when he volunteered her but didn’t disagree. If this plan worked, it would be worth losing time to get Mrs. Reynolds on an airplane and out of town.
Mrs. Reynolds liked the idea and reached for her cell phone. “I’ll call Pudding. She buys airplane tickets all the time to visit her boy in the army.”
Gaff nodded, satisfied. “Call me when you know when you’re leaving, and we’ll come back when you’re ready to make the phone calls and drive you to the airport.”
When they stood to leave, Mrs. Reynolds came to Jazzi for a hug. “You take care now. You’re always runnin’ ‘round, tryin’ to help people.”
Jazzi smiled. “Only people I like. And I get lots of love in return.”
The old woman nodded. “Now that’s a good thing. Maybe sometime you can bring your man to meet me, too. I been kinda wonderin’ what kind of fella you hooked up with.”
Mrs. Reynolds had enough curiosity to spare. “I’ll have him come with me to see you off at the airport.”
Satisfied, Ronnie’s grandma settled in her rocking chair and waved as they left.
Walking to their cars, Gaff grew serious. “The sooner she’s out of this house, the safer I’ll feel. It would only take one punch from our killer to send her on her way.”
Jazzi agreed. She was relieved when later that night, while she and Ansel watched TV before bed, Pudding called to tell her that she’d found good tickets for Mrs. Reynolds and she’d be leaving on Wednesday morning.
“Thanks, Pudding.”
The woman laughed. “Don’t thank me, hon. I’m the one who usually picks people up to give ‘em rides to the airport. Don’t mind having you spell me one bit.”
Ansel was relieved when Jazzi told him the news. “We’ll let Jerod know tomorrow. Maybe he can stay home Wednesday morning, and we’ll all go into work late.”
Chapter 35
Ansel drove to pick up Mrs. Reynolds early Wednesday. The sky looked like an artist had painted it robin egg blue. Big, puffy white clouds dotted it—the kinds kids drew on crayon projects. Mrs. Reynolds was dressed in her Sunday best—a black dress with white polka dots, black lace-up shoes with a small heel, and a black straw hat. Her kinky gray hair was pulled back in a bun. She was a small woman, but standing next to Ansel, she looked downright tiny.
Gaff walked her to their van, passing her off to Ansel. He looked at Jazzi. “She made the calls. Did a good job, too. Both Jarrett and Gavin know the money’s hidden in the house somewhere. If you two are ready to take her, I’m going to meet with my team and get ready to keep watch on this place.”
Ansel held out a hand to help Ronnie’s grandma onto the front seat.
She looked up at him. “My, my, my, you did good, girl,” she told Jazzi. “Good-lookin’ and a gentleman, too.”
Jazzi smiled. “I’m thinking of keeping him. He’s nice to have around the house.”
Mrs. Reynolds threw back her head and laughed. “You do that, baby. But he done all right, too. You’re plenty special.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.” Jazzi settled on the backseat with George. They’d thought about driving her pickup, but the step up into it was probably too high for the old lady.
Mrs. Reynolds oohed and aahed at the scenery on the way to the airport. “When did River Bluffs get so danged big?” she asked. “Houses have sprung up everywhere.”
“You should drive north or southwest,” Ansel told her. “The city’s grown a lot.”
When they pulled to the drop off area at the airport, Jazzi got out to help Mrs. Reynolds with her suitcase and to walk her inside the terminal. The boarding line wasn’t too long, so she stayed with her to get her ticket and walk her to the security area.
When the security agent asked her to take off her shoes, Mrs. Reynolds gave him an evil glare. “Why would I do that?” she asked. “They won’t fit no one here.”
The man smiled. “We have to scan them for weapons. The world’s changed, ma’am. We do our best to keep our passengers safe.” He looked at Jazzi. “You can’t enter with her, but I’ll walk her through everything and make sure someone helps her onto the plane.”
“Thank you.” Jazzi gave the old woman a quick hug. “Enjoy your sister.”
Mrs. Reynolds turned back to the nice man helping her remove her shoes. “You seem like a nice boy.”
Jazzi left while Ronnie’s grandma schmoozed her way through security.
Once back in the van with Ansel, she sighed. “She’s in good hands. I’m glad she’s leaving town. She’ll be safe in Georgia. I just hope the killer breaks into her place while she’s gone and the whole thing’s settled before she gets back.”
“Me, too. I never pictured her as so small and frail.”
Jazzi snickered. “She might look frail, but that woman has lots of stamina.”
They returned home to eat lunch before driving to the Victorian. Jerod pulled into the drive behind them. Walking inside together, they went upstairs to give the second floor one final scan. Satisfied, they climbed the steps to the attic bedroom and were happy with it, too. All the two spaces needed were coats of paint and carpet. After that, they could focus on the baseme
nt and the house’s exterior.
They all wanted the work done. If they could put in long hours, they might finish the painting tomorrow. Then they’d take Friday off to get ready for Olivia’s wedding on Sunday.
They put down drop cloths, covered their heads, and started on the ceilings. Those went quickly, so Jerod packed up and left at five thirty to get home to help Franny watch the kids and make supper. Ansel and Jazzi decided to stay longer to tape around windows and woodwork. Jazzi hated that job, but it had to be done. Better tonight than tomorrow.
When they finally put the last blue tape strip on the attached bathrooms, Ansel took off his baseball cap and grabbed a rag to wipe dried paint splatters off his face. His blond hair was damp with sweat. He still looked good. “I’m done in. How about you? Let’s stop and grab something to eat on the way home.”
Jazzi untied her scarf. “I’m whipped. It’s going to be an early bedtime for me.”
Ansel’s grin sagged at the edges. “I’d take advantage of that, but I’m too tired.”
Laughing, they went to fetch George and head home. They grabbed a bucket of fried chicken and sides on the way. The pug and cats wound around them when they settled at the kitchen island and tossed them scraps.
At nine thirty, they’d hit a wall. Ansel picked up George to carry upstairs and the cats chased after Jazzi. By nine forty-five, the entire household was asleep.
Chapter 36
Gaff didn’t call Thursday morning. Jazzi found herself glancing at her watch every half hour, hoping she’d hear something. What if their plan didn’t work? What if Jarrett or Gavin didn’t pass the information along that Ronnie’s grandma had the money? What if Jarrett was right and it was some unknown person in prison who’d overheard Ronnie talk about the money? Would the news reach him or the two goons who’d beat up Ray?
Jazzi had canceled going out with Olivia tonight so that she could get a head start on food for the wedding. She, Jerod, and Ansel had arrived at the Victorian earlier than usual to try to paint the upstairs and attic walls. Surely, Gaff would call during the day.
But it took them until five thirty, and no call. Like last night, Jerod left the minute they’d cleaned the paintbrushes. They stayed to roll up drop cloths and sweep the floors. When they walked out of the Victorian, it’s main living spaces were in perfect shape.
They got home before seven, ate a quick supper, and stretched out on their couches, the pets stretching beside them. Jazzi placed her cell phone on the coffee table between them, within easy reach. No call. They let themselves relax, but Jazzi’s mind couldn’t help returning to Gaff’s stakeout. Why hadn’t the burglar broken in last night? Would he try tonight once it was dark?
She thought she’d fret when she went to bed, but she was mistaken. She slept so hard, she woke on Friday morning and checked her cell phone to see if she’d missed a message. Nothing.
“Give the guy time,” Ansel said, ruffling her hair on his way to the bathroom.
“But what if it’s not Jarrett or Gavin? What if it’s one of the thugs, and he doesn’t hear about Ronnie’s money?”
“He’ll hear. Maybe he’s waiting for the weekend.”
She threw her legs over the side of the bed and stretched. Her muscles felt tight. “Why the weekend? More people are home then who might notice him.”
“Maybe he works during the week and doesn’t want to throw suspicion on himself by taking a day off.”
She relaxed a little. That was a possibility. Then her thoughts flew to Jarrett. He’d started his job at Eli’s garage, and he and Brianne had moved into the new apartment building where he did part-time maintenance. She bit her bottom lip. She didn’t want it to be him.
Ansel reached for her hand and tugged her off the bed. “Give it time. It’ll happen. And in the meantime, we have plenty to get done today. Hop to it!”
He was right. She tossed on old clothes and went to report for kitchen duty. They had lots of food to make.
They were on their third pot of coffee and had finished the chicken salad, skewered the beef satays, baked the sausage parmesan palmiers and broccoli ’n’ cheddar dip when Jazzi’s cell phone rang. “Gaff!” Her voice rose with hope when she said, “Did you catch him?”
She put the phone on speaker.
Gaff sounded disappointed. “No, but a cop saw the two thugs from Jarrett’s artist’s sketch and picked them up. Once we had their wallets, we looked up their credit cards. They left River Bluffs after Jarrett pounded them and didn’t come back until last night. They admitted to beating Ray and trying to shake down Jarrett but swore they’d never touch a woman. Beyond that, they’re not talking.”
Ansel scowled in frustration. “So they won’t say who they were working for?”
“Clammed up the minute we asked.”
Jazzi sighed. More waiting.
Gaff heard her and said, “Our guy knows Mrs. Reynolds is only going to be gone a week. If he doesn’t move by then, Jarrett or Gavin will come for their share.”
True, if the killer wanted it all, he’d have to steal it now.
“Thanks for telling us,” Ansel told Gaff.
“Don’t give up yet. I’m thinking our guys returned to River Bluffs to break into Mrs. Reynolds’s place. They had one phone call from lockup, and they didn’t call a lawyer.”
“You think they called whoever hired them,” Ansel said.
“Wouldn’t you? They wouldn’t want him to think they grabbed the money and ran.”
True. He’d come after them. And he must scare them enough, they didn’t want him mad at them.
Gaff hung up, and Ansel and Jazzi started cooking again. They’d pulled four large sheet cakes from the ovens when Olivia called.
“The bridesmaid dresses finally came. You have to come over and try yours on right away. Isabelle’s coming, too. If they don’t fit, the seamstress at the shop swore she’d alter them on Saturday.”
The dresses had been making Olivia crazy. “We’re on our way.” Jazzi kept her fingers crossed the fit would work.
Isabelle’s car was already in the drive and Ansel parked Jazzi’s pickup next to it. The minute Jazzi walked into the house, Olivia grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the bedroom. “Come on. I have to know now.”
Jazzi frowned. “Is Franny coming?”
“She’s already been here and gone. Peter’s fussy tonight.”
Jazzi had remembered to bring heels with her to make sure the dress was hemmed at the correct length. She slid out of her jeans and T-shirt and pulled the dress over her head. It was a deep rose that hugged her figure before flowing into a bell shape at the bottom. Her voice reverent, she said, “I love it.”
Olivia smiled. “I knew you would. Rose is one of your favorite colors. Heck, you painted your bedroom a dark rose.” She glanced at Isabelle. Her dress was the same style but in a soft green—a shade Isabelle favored. “And you?”
“I’m keeping mine forever. Whoever took our measurements fitted these dresses perfectly.”
Olivia looked relieved. “No fitting sessions or tailoring. We got off lucky.”
They had indeed. Jazzi couldn’t have chosen a gown she liked more. And from the look on Isabelle’s face, she felt the same.
Olivia clapped her hands. “Quick. Take them off. I want to hide them in the closet so the guys can’t see them.”
Jazzi and Isabelle reluctantly removed them and pulled on their regular clothes. Jazzi had to admit there was something to be said for dressing up and feeling special every once in a while. When they returned to the kitchen, Ansel raised his blond eyebrows in question.
“It’s perfect,” Jazzi said.
“Something you could wear some place special?”
She shook her head. “We don’t go to any parties where we have to dress up in formal gear, but I’ll model it for you every once in a while if you’r
e a good boy.”
He grinned. “I can be very, very good when I have to.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Enough already. How’s my wedding reception coming?”
It was back to business. “We got a good start today,” Jazzi said, “and have plenty of time to finish tomorrow.”
Everyone stayed long enough to share a drink, and then they all scattered again. Everyone had plenty to do before the official ceremony.
Chapter 37
Jazzi and Ansel gave the house a quick clean Saturday morning before planting themselves in the kitchen again for a full day’s work. People came in and out while they cooked, delivering flowers, rented gold-rimmed dishes and silverware for the reception, and a dozen other things. They finished the last dish they could make ahead by four. That gave them plenty of time to shower and change for the rehearsal at six thirty.
Ansel glanced at the decorated sheet cakes and cake rolls. He patted Jazzi on the back. “They’re pretty close to professional. I didn’t know you could do all the frosting swirls and flowers.”
She was happy with the results herself. “I only do the easy scrolls. I sent Olivia to Country Kitchen for frosting tips, and we bought the flowers ready-made.”
“Well, whatever you did, they look great.”
His praise pleased her. Almost everything he did made her happy. She wove her arm through his. “We have some extra time. Let’s go upstairs and see how you look with your apron off.”
She didn’t have to ask twice. He scooped her up and sprinted up the steps. At six, they were dressed and ready to go. George trotted to the door to go with them, but Ansel bent and patted his head. “Sorry, boy, not this time.”
Head hanging, shoulders drooped, doggie nails dragging across the floor, the pug returned to his dog bed. He deserved an academy award for his performance, he looked so dejected.
Ansel smiled. “He’s good, isn’t he?”
“One of the best.” If there were a class in how to manipulate humans, George could teach it.