by Judi Lynn
Jazzi didn’t think he’d answer her, but he gave her a sympathetic look. “Usually, I couldn’t tell you, but this time is different. You’ve carried the baggage a long time and secret information isn’t going to help us break the case. It hasn’t been confirmed, but it looks like her neck was broken. It might have happened in the trunk, but it might be cause of death, too.”
Mom took a deep breath. “Does that mean someone hit her from behind?”
“It could mean lots of things. It happened so long ago, we might never know for sure.”
Mom thought about that. “But Lynda would only be sixty if she’d lived. Everyone she was involved with is still alive except Cal.” She shivered. “Do you think one of them might have killed her?”
Gaff closed his notepad and stood. “I didn’t say we wouldn’t investigate. I just want you to realize the odds are against us.” He smiled. “It’s getting late. If I have any more questions or news, I’ll get in touch with you. Thank you for your time.”
They watched him leave, and Jazzi replayed her mom’s words in her mind. Whoever killed Aunt Lynda was probably still alive. He might even live in River Bluffs. That creeped her out.
Jerod rose, too. “I’m going to take off. I’ll grab a sandwich on the way home. Franny’s probably ready to sell my kids by now. I’ve left her stranded long enough.”
Jerod and Franny might complain about their kids, but they adored them. Gunnar was four and Lizzie was one and a half.
“Tell everyone hi for us,” Jazzi called.
“Will do.” With a wave, he was gone.
Once they were alone, Jazzi stood to clear the table. Her mom looked wiped out. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’m staying home tomorrow. I’m not going to the salon. Once this hits the news, every client will want the scoop. I’m not up to it.”
“I don’t blame you.”
Then her mom shook her head and sighed. “Who am I kidding? I might as well go in and get it over with. It’s not going to go away.”
“What if I call Olivia? She should know about Lynda. You two can have each other’s backs.” Her younger sister worked with her mom at the salon. They were partners. Since she’d moved in with her boyfriend, Thane, they didn’t spend evenings together like they used to.
Mom nodded. “You tell her. I can’t go through the story again. I’m talked out.”
A rare occurrence. Her mom was usually a chatterbox, but this problem was too close, too personal. Jazzi called her sister and filled her in on the news.
“Crap! Is Mom all right?” Olivia asked.
“She’s hanging in there. At first, she didn’t want to show up at the shop tomorrow, but now she wants to go in and get it over with.”
“I’ll be there to help her through it.” A man’s voice asked something in the background. Olivia paused, then said, “Tell Mom I love her. I have to go. Thane just got home.”
“And you have to drop everything? Has he got you on a leash or something?”
Her sister laughed. “No, but I want to go out tonight, and if I don’t catch him before he hits the couch, I’ve lost him. He won’t want to get back up.”
Jazzi chuckled. “I know the feeling. When I get home tonight, I’m going to crash and burn.”
“Thanks for the phone call,” Olivia told her.
Jazzi smiled as she hung up. She and her sister were close, unlike her mom and Lynda. She and Olivia got together every Thursday night. Jazzi didn’t enjoy anyone more than her smart, funny sister. Mom looked like she was wilting, and Dad looked stressed.
“I’m packing it in,” Jazzi said. “Hang in there, you two. Love ya.”
Dad went to sit next to mom, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.
Jazzi took Jefferson into town and turned into the historical West Central neighborhood she loved. She parked at the curb in front of her first-floor apartment on Berry Street. The old Victorian was painted three shades of pink with a wide wraparound porch. It had plenty of charm. Not as much as Cal’s house in the country, but enough. The large front room and arched dining room was so long, she could set up tables and chairs for Sunday dinners with her family, but the kitchen was so small, it proved inconvenient. When she and Jerod got busy on Cal’s house, she wanted to knock out the wall between the kitchen and dining room to have a big, open space for entertaining. It would take some work since it was a load-bearing wall, but someday, someone would thank her.
She’d decided to start looking for a fixer-upper of her own. She used to think she’d wait until she met Mr. Right, and they’d choose a house together, but she’d turned twenty-seven at the end of March and no Till Death Do Us Part was in sight, so she might as well skip that step and move on. She’d considered Cal’s house, but it came with too much property. A huge yard meant lots of work. Just fixing the poor house would be work enough.
Ansel would be part of the crew soon, and then the remodeling would go faster. Jazzi smiled. She was always more inspired when their hottie contractor was on the job. Eye candy was nothing to sneeze at. But for now, she pushed all thoughts of remodeling and trunks out of her mind and went to stretch on her sofa and watch some mindless TV.
Chapter 4
Jazzi took a deep breath and prepared herself. Time to gut Cal’s kitchen. She knew it would be bad, but when mice scurried from behind the refrigerator, she let out a small scream. They didn’t scare her, just surprised her. She didn’t even want to think about what they’d find when they finally started work on the basement.
They’d brought two window air conditioners with them and plugged them in, but her T-shirt still stuck to her like a second skin, drenched in sweat. Her hair frizzed, and smears streaked her face and arms. Yeah, she wouldn’t win any beauty pageants. They’d carried everything to the dumpster in the driveway when Jazzi’s cell phone buzzed.
“Bet it’s Hollywood, ready to make you their newest HGTV star,” Jerod teased.
Her cousin had a warped sense of humor. She glanced at the ID. “Detective Gaff,” she said.
Jerod’s face fell. He put down his sledge hammer and leaned against the wall to listen in on her conversation.
“Jazzi here!” she said after lowering the white mask on her face.
“I only have a few things to tell you, but I can confirm that your aunt died because she broke her neck. When we opened her locket, there was a picture of a baby. Your mother showed me the pictures of her sister, and this baby’s a dead ringer for Lynda.”
Jazzi bit her bottom lip. “There were a few rumors when Lynda went to New York. Some people said she was a rich man’s mistress, but a few thought she was pregnant.”
There was a pause. Uh-oh, there must be more. Gaff said, “The medical examiner also reported that after examining her bones, he could tell that she’d had a baby.”
So, the rumors were true.
“Where did she stay in New York?” Gaff asked.
“I don’t know. My mom would, or at least she thought she did, but this news is going to bother her.”
“I have to ask.”
“I know.” She didn’t have to like it, though.
“I’d like to see the letters Lynda sent her. If she has the envelopes, there might be postmarks. Have you seen them?”
“No, Lynda was a touchy subject for Mom.” Jazzi decided she’d stop by her parents’ house again on her way home from work. Her mom would be upset after Gaff’s call.
“If I learn anything new, I’ll keep in touch.” He hung up.
Jazzi looked at Jerod. Finding Lynda’s body was bad enough, but she’d had a baby, too? A baby no one knew about. He shook his head. “That’s what girls used to do when they didn’t want anyone to know they got knocked up. They’d go somewhere to have the baby and give it up.”
How times had changed. Now, if a woman wanted to keep her child, she could. Did Au
nt Lynda want to keep her baby? Jazzi felt a quick bit of sympathy for her. But even if the baby’s father refused to marry her, so many men had pursued her, surely one of them would have raised her child. Wouldn’t they?
Jazzi pulled her mask back over her nose, pushing her thoughts away. “Let’s finish this up today so we don’t have to face it tomorrow.”
She swung the sledgehammer with more gusto than before, working off nervous energy. Mom was going to be a mess. By late afternoon, all that was left of the kitchen were two-by-sixes and the outside walls.
Jerod studied the studs between the kitchen and dining room. “Wish these weren’t load bearing. We can’t take them down until the new support beam gets here.”
They’d ordered it, but it hadn’t arrived yet. They decided to rip into the downstairs half bath. Before they left for the day, that room was gutted, too.
Jerod started to his pickup. “I’m heading straight home tonight. Franny’s been in a mood lately. I promised I’d take her and the kids out for supper and then I’d watch the kids swim and play in the sand while she does whatever she wants.”
He’d dug a pond at the back of his property and carted in sand for a beach. He’d built a high wooden fence around their backyard and installed a play set, so that the kids couldn’t get to the water unless he or Franny accompanied them.
Jazzi gave him a quick nod of approval. “Kids are twenty-four-seven. Franny will need a break. I’m going to see how Mom’s doing.”
They jumped in their pickups and went their separate ways.
When Jazzi reached her parents’ house, Dad gave her a warning look. “Your mom went to bed with a headache. I’m giving her some space. Hearing about the baby stirred up too many memories.”
“I worried about that. Did Gaff ask to see Lynda’s letters?”
Dad pointed to a stack of old envelopes on the kitchen table.
Jazzi looked at the left-hand corners. No return address. “May I?” When her dad nodded, she pulled out a small single sheet of paper. Went to see the Statue of Liberty today. Had a wonderful time. The letter was type written. Really? It made it feel less personal. She pulled out another. Too cold and icy to leave the house today. Stayed inside and read a book. A third said, Stopped at an Italian restaurant for supper. Loved their lasagna. Jazzi stared. Where were the intimate details, the I miss you. What have you been doing while I’m gone? There was nothing about Lynda’s job, the people she met. Nothing that mattered.
Her dad studied her expression and nodded. “Your mom called them letters. An exaggeration, but they made her happy.”
Jazzi could feel tears build up behind her eyes, but she blinked them away. Poor Mom. “They’re fakes, aren’t they?”
“It looks that way. Lynda was probably staying somewhere to have her baby but didn’t want anyone to know.”
“So she sent these to Mom, knowing she’d share the news.”
Her dad rubbed a hand over his chin. “It worked. When Lynda came home again, people thought she gave up being a New Yorker to return to her family because she missed us so much. Ironic, isn’t it?”
Ouch. That had to hurt. Jazzi tried to think the best of her. “Lynda must have been desperate, trying to save her reputation.”
“She used your mom to make herself look good.”
Jazzi didn’t know what to say. Curious, she asked, “How did Lynda get along with Grandma and Grandpa?”
“There was always tension. Lynda and her mom didn’t even speak at the end.”
A sore subject. Jazzi decided to let it drop. “Tell Mom I stopped to check on her, will you?”
“Will do.”
“How are you holding out?” Dad was a rock, but Lynda’s secret had affected him, too.
“I’m okay. I’ll be there for her.”
Jazzi gave him a hug. “You’re always there for all of us. Love ya, Dad.” She left to drive home.
Chapter 5
Jazzi usually went out with Olivia on Thursday night. They ate. They drank. They caught up with each other, but this time, they’d called it off so that they could check on Mom. Not that Mom wanted them, but they hadn’t known that when they’d canceled their fun. Not thrilled about going home to a jar of peanut butter and a half loaf of stale bread, Jazzi called Ansel. He was working another job right now and had to finish it before he could join them at Cal’s place.
“Hey, I’m on my own tonight,” she told him. “Does Emily work? Want to grab something to eat with me?”
He hesitated. “She has tonight off, but she’s not happy with me. She asked me to leave for a few hours. What if I pick up wings and bring them to your place? She’s kicking out George, too.”
George was Ansel’s pug. The dog went everywhere with him. He even brought George to work when he was with Jerod and her. Jazzi liked George. “I’ll pay half. See you in a few.”
She took a quick shower before Ansel got there and tossed paper plates and a roll of paper towels on the dining room table. The table was normal size now, a solid square, but it could stretch into the living room on Sundays when she put all of its leaves in.
She didn’t like to eat out more than once or twice a week, but she hadn’t thawed anything to cook tonight, since she thought she’d be at Henry’s Bar and Grill with Olivia. They rotated between their favorite restaurants, and Henry’s was at the top of both their lists. They were regulars at the Dash-In downtown, too. Jazzi had a thing for their duck burgers, and Olivia loved their specialty beers. Jazzi had a more refined palate, but Olivia had a keener fashion sense. The rest of the time, Jazzi cooked. It wasn’t as much fun since she’d broken up with Chad, but she invited Ansel over whenever Emily was on shift at the hospital. He loved food as much as Chad had and wasn’t picky.
She’d blown her hair dry by the time Ansel pulled to the curb in front of the house. She opened the door wide for George, and Ansel followed with a huge bag of wings.
“I got mild since Jerod’s not here.” He plopped them on the table. “I’m starving. Emily only wanted a salad for lunch.”
Jazzi never said what she thought about Ansel’s beloved Emily. The woman was a control freak with perpetual PMS. How Ansel lived with her was beyond her, but she’d learned a long time ago to keep her opinions to herself.
“Beer?” Jazzi headed to the kitchen.
“Two for me.” Ansel opened a small bag with a grilled chicken sandwich he’d bought for George and broke off a piece and tossed it to him. George gulped it down.
She came back with two beers for him and two for her. Wings needed proper libations. She put a half dozen wings on her paper plate and looked at him. “What did you do this time?”
Ansel was the nicest, most thoughtful man in the world, and he constantly annoyed his live-in nurse. Maybe he’d put a pencil in the pen holder upside down.
His shoulders slumped. “When I cleaned up after lunch, I forgot to wipe down the stove top.”
A cardinal sin if she’d ever heard of one. “Shame on you.”
He gave her a look. “Emily likes things to be kept neat.”
“You two had better never have kids. I’m surprised she tolerates George.”
“I clean up after him.” Ansel reached to stroke the dog’s head. George whimpered, and Ansel threw him two more pieces of chicken.
Jazzi decided to change the subject. “Have you heard about the skeleton in Cal’s attic?”
They talked about Detective Gaff and Aunt Lynda while they ate. Ansel didn’t know much of the history of River Bluffs. He’d grown up in Wisconsin on his parents’ dairy farm. His two older brothers still lived there to help run it. His sister had married and lived close by. He’d moved here to work at his uncle Len’s construction company, but Len’s two sons let him know that he was an interloper, a third wheel, so Ansel branched out as a contractor. When he started working with Jerod and her, it was a per
fect fit.
A high discard pile accumulated beside Ansel’s plate, and he took one last heap of wings. “I looked at the auction notice for Cal’s house and thought about bidding on it. I like the looks of it.”
That surprised her. Was he thinking of flipping houses on his own? “Why didn’t you?”
“Emily didn’t like it when we drove past it, said it was too far away from her favorite stores and restaurants.”
She finished her beer. “Are you thinking of buying a place?” He and Emily rented a three-bedroom apartment out north right now. Emily used one bedroom as her craft room, and in theory, the third was for guests, but Jerod called it the indoor doghouse since Ansel and George were sent there when they upset her.
“I’d like to find a house, but I like old homes with character, and Emily likes new and modern. Bigger rooms and better floor plans with no renovation.”
Go figure. Sometimes Jazzi thought that if Ansel liked blue skies, Emily would wish for gray, dreary days. She wondered if the little control freak ever considered that Ansel was six-five with rippling muscles. Girls would crawl across broken glass for him if he encouraged them at all.
When they finished supper, Ansel glanced at his watch and said, “Do you mind if I hang out here for another hour? Emily told me she didn’t want to see me until nine.”
“Make yourself at home.” She handed him the remote and went to change into baggy pajamas and a light robe. She didn’t need to stand on formalities. It was only Ansel.
When she padded back into the living room, his eyes lit up and he quickly looked away. What was that about? She tugged her robe closer and sank into her leather chair, just settling in when her home phone rang. She used it for business, so reached for it. “Hello, Jazzi Zanders here.”
“Is this the Miss Zanders who recently purchased a house on Willow Drive?”
“Yes.” Maybe they already had a buyer interested once they fixed it up.
“This is Tim Carston, Cal Juniper’s brother-in-law. My sons inherited the house when Cal died and rented it until they put it up for auction recently.”