by Judi Lynn
Jazzi looked at her reflection in the kitchen window. Her hair tended to frizz when she cooked. Humidity was not her friend. “Thomas Sorrell?”
“I’d like it if you’d come with me when I talk to him. You know the family history better than I do.”
“Why not?” She didn’t have to look good to talk to Sorrell. “When should I be ready?”
“I’ll pick you up in half an hour.”
“Good.” They’d finish up and she’d be home in time to buy the ribs for tomorrow.
She pulled her hair up in a ponytail, tossed on a pair of khaki capris and a cotton T-shirt. She could wear those at the grocery store. When Gaff pulled to the curb, she went out to climb in his car. “Where to?” she asked.
“An addition out north.” Gaff threw her a look. “He’s staying at a friend’s house. Whenever he comes to town, he stays with her.”
Jazzi frowned. “He’s married, isn’t he?”
“Yes, to his fourth wife.”
“And he still has money?”
“He always insists on a prenup. He must not mind losing three million a pop. Maybe to him having a young woman on his arm is worth it, but they get paid only if they stick it out for two years.”
“What a guy.”
“It goes both ways. The girls know what they’re getting into.”
Jazzi let out a long breath. The money wouldn’t be worth it to her. “It sounds like Lynda made the right choice when she left Thomas.”
“At least he didn’t ask her for a prenup. It must have been true love.”
“They were still young. He wasn’t happy when she wouldn’t give him back his ring.”
The traffic on State Street wasn’t as bad as usual on Saturday. Jazzi strained to glance down Forest Park Boulevard when they passed it. Big stately homes lined both sides of the street. Gaff crossed over Anthony and kept heading north. When he crossed Coliseum Boulevard, the older two-story homes and bungalows gave way to ranches and additions. He turned left on Maplecrest and then turned left into an addition Jazzi had never been in before. It was a lot like her mom and dad’s neighborhood southwest—some split-levels and ranches mixed with a few more modern two-story homes, large yards, and everything well-kept.
Gaff parked in the drive of a charcoal-gray split-level that had boxwood bushes sculptured like sphinxes on each side of the yellow front door and a fountain near the corner. Jazzi followed Gaff and stood behind him when he knocked. No one came. He stepped back and stared at the bronze pyramid plaque near the door frame—a doorbell. He rang. They waited. No one came again.
“Maybe they’re in the backyard.” They were walking to the rear of the house when the front door opened and a woman called, “Hello? Is someone there?”
They retraced their footsteps. Gaff flashed his badge and said, “I’m Detective Gaff. I called to see Thomas Sorrell.”
“Oh, please come in.” She stepped back to let them enter the front room. Her dark hair, pulled up in a knot, was mussed. So was her eyeliner. She wore a floaty-style skirt that barely covered her butt and a low-cut, sleeveless top. Jazzi guessed she must be in her early thirties. “I’m Beth. Thomas will be here in a minute.”
They settled themselves into chairs and she said, “Can I get you something to drink? A cocktail? Beer?”
“I’ll take a glass of water.” Gaff took out his pen and notepad.
Jazzi shook her head. “I’m fine.”
When Beth went to the kitchen, Jazzi studied her surroundings. The white carpet was so thick, feet sank into it. The walls were painted the same charcoal gray as the exterior of the house. The modern sofa was a shock of bright yellow; the chairs blazed bright red. A bronze sculpture protruded from the side wall, and modern paintings hung on the long wall between the front room and the kitchen.
Beth came back with Gaff’s water. When she looked up and saw a tall, silver-haired man walk down the hallway toward them, her smile dazzled. “Here’s Thomas!”
Thomas’s hair was still damp. He wore casual slacks and a crisp white shirt that set off his deep tan. With a brisk nod, he sat on the sofa across from Gaff and raised an eyebrow. Beth sat at the other end of the sofa, out of his way.
Gaff looked at his notes. “I’ve come regarding the death of Lynda Remington. I’d like to ask you some questions about her.” He nodded toward Jazzi. “This is Jazzi Zanders, her niece. She agreed to accompany me.”
His long, narrow lips turned down. “You’re related to Lynda?”
Didn’t Gaff just say that? “She was my aunt.”
“Too bad, you’re quite lovely, but I’ve sworn off anyone from the Remington family.”
Was that a backhanded compliment? The man was older than her father. Did he really think she’d be interested in him?
Thomas turned to Gaff. “Let’s get this over with. What do you want to ask me?”
“I’m assuming you know that Lynda’s body was found in a trunk in Cal’s attic.”
“I read about it in the paper. Somebody disliked her more than I did.”
“You were in River Bluffs the day she died. How much did you dislike her?”
Thomas’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’ve obviously heard about our argument the day before she was due to leave. Cal was too weak for her. She’d have grown bored with him. I was a better fit. Besides, I’d invested a great deal of money in her.”
“But not very much time, according to the sources I’ve talked to.” Gaff waited for his reaction.
Thomas shrugged. “My time is valuable. I can’t squander it.”
What an ego! Jazzi glanced at Beth, but nothing Thomas said seemed to faze her.
He expanded on his statement. “Every time I came to River Bluffs, I spent an entire day with Lynda. I made sure she enjoyed herself.”
Big deal. Thomas must think his quality time was life shattering.
Gaff went to the next question on his list. “You left River Bluffs the day after Lynda disappeared. That’s a little suspicious.”
“Is it? Why? I came here to confront Lynda. She wouldn’t listen to reason. I waited for her to call the next day, but she left town instead. There was no reason for me to stay.”
“That’s one explanation. Another view is that you knew Cal had left for Europe. You went to his house to see Lynda. You argued, and you lost your temper and killed her.”
“I might lose my temper, but I never act on impulse. That scenario would never happen.”
Gaff moved to the next question. “I’ve been told that you wanted to see the son Lynda gave up in New York. Why?”
Thomas half-smiled, amused. “To irritate Cal, of course. He didn’t have any more claim to Lynda’s son than I did. That’s why I’ve kept a business here, too. Cal took something that was mine, and I intended to keep reminding him of that.” He steepled his fingers and sat in thought for a moment. “I’m selling my interests here now that Cal’s died. They don’t entertain me anymore.”
Beth’s shoulders stiffened and she frowned. “But what about me?”
He glanced at her. “What about you? I bought you this house. I’ve paid for your jewelry. You’re a beautiful woman, but there are beautiful women everywhere.”
Jazzi had to look away. The pain that crossed Beth’s face was too hard to watch.
Gaff moved to his next question. “I’m also assuming you know that Lynda’s son was murdered in Cal’s house and buried in his backyard.”
Thomas’s expression turned thunderous. “How did I miss that? I saw on the news that a body was removed from the house, but there were no details. I assumed it was related to Lynda’s murder twenty-six years ago. I haven’t seen one article about Noah. The son was supposed to meet Cal before Cal died, but he never came.”
“The news couldn’t print it until Noah’s father came to identify his body. You can read about it tomo
rrow morning.” Gaff looked up from his notepad. “Were you in town when Noah was supposed to arrive?”
Beth answered. “Yes, he was. He made a special trip.”
Thomas’s expression made Jazzi shiver. She rubbed her arms. Then she glanced at Beth. Gone was the doting mistress. If the floor opened and swallowed Thomas in flames, Jazzi wouldn’t be surprised.
“I drove here, hoping to see him. I knew that would bother Cal, but I shouldn’t have wasted my time. When Noah never came, the kid devastated Cal more than I ever could. Actually, though, I enjoyed watching that, so it was worth it.”
What a hateful man! If Lynda had married him, Jazzi would be related to the jerk. A horrible thought.
Gaff gave Thomas a long, serious look. “You had motive to kill both of them to hurt Cal and because you were so angry with Lynda. And you had opportunity. You were in River Bluffs for each death.”
Thomas laughed. “Prove it. I’d have to stand in line behind people who weren’t fans of Lynda. As for Noah, I don’t even know when he finally showed up at Cal’s. You’re fishing, and you don’t have enough bait. I don’t kill people. Where’s the fun? I’d rather watch them dangle and suffer.”
Gaff closed his notebook and tucked it into his pocket. “Thank you for your time. If I need anything else, I’ll call you.”
“Any time, detective. I’m always happy to cooperate.” Thomas stood and held out his hand. It was time for them to go.
Beth stomped down the hallway and slammed a door.
Thomas smiled. “An eventful day.”
Jazzi and Gaff didn’t talk as they got into the car and left the addition. Then Gaff gave a low whistle. “You don’t meet many like him.”
“Thank goodness!” Jazzi felt like she needed a shower just for sharing the same air as Thomas.
When she got home, there was a message from Ansel on her machine. “Emily has to work again tonight, so she needs her sleep. George and I had to clear out of the apartment, so we went to Cal’s house to paint the second bedroom. We started around nine. If you want to check it out, I won’t put you to work.”
She checked the time. A little before three. Crap, she’d just missed his call. She dialed his cell and was relieved when he picked up. “Are you still at Cal’s?”
“Yup, you want to come see the room? I like it.”
“I’m on my way.” It took her half an hour, so she’d filtered out most of Thomas Sorrell’s comments before she got there. She tried to push them away. She didn’t want to dwell on them. When she walked inside the house, she ran up the stairs to find Ansel.
George came to greet her, his curly tail wagging. Jazzi stepped into the second bedroom and put a hand to her throat. The soft, dusty amethyst was soothing and relaxing. “I love it.”
Ansel smiled. “So do I.” He was just finishing up.
“Did it take more than one coat?” He’d been at it a long time.
“No, come and see.” He led her down the hall to the master bedroom and opened the door.
She gasped. “It’s beautiful!” The rose walls complemented the wooden floors and oak trim. She almost choked on emotion and blinked away tears. It was so sweet of Ansel to paint this for her. And it was everything she’d hoped it would be.
“It’s my favorite room,” Ansel said. “You should buy new furniture and put your queen-size bed in one of the guest rooms.”
“What’s wrong with my bed?” She’d bought it when she moved into her apartment. It was still fairly new.
“Not special enough.”
“And what do you picture in here?”
“A sleigh bed.”
She rolled her eyes. “You must have a thing for them. Can you even fit in one? You’re so tall, you’d have to scrunch up.”
“Not if I buy a king.”
She could picture Ansel in a long bed, shaped somewhat like a Viking boat. Not that she should. She swallowed her lust. Down, girl. “Those are expensive. What if the next guy I meet is under six feet?”
Ansel winced. His expression turned fierce. “What if he’s not?”
He had a point. She sighed. “Why get cheap on the furniture when the room’s so pretty?”
He grinned. “Your cannonball bed would look perfect in the caramel room.”
“I can see it in there.” She went to one of the long, narrow windows and looked outside. The view from the master bedroom looked over the street and the wheat fields that stretched for miles. A great view.
“Do you like it?” Ansel asked.
She nodded. “It’s more than I pictured. I love this house.”
“The armoire and chest of drawers in the attic would fit in here. The room’s big enough to handle them.”
He was right. She wondered if this was where they’d been originally.
Ansel went on. “When Jerod and I are together on Monday, we can carry them down here. All you need is the bed.” The man was sure attached to this house. She hoped he’d be as happy with whatever apartment he and Emily found in California.
“Want to go look at furniture?” she asked him. “Then we can grab something to eat, and I need to buy ribs for tomorrow’s meal.”
“I love your ribs.”
She patted his arm. “I’ll make an extra slab. You can heat them up later.”
He grinned. “What if we leave George here and come back for supper after you find the bed?”
“Works for me.”
After an hour, they agreed on which sleigh bed they wanted. They even agreed on the comforter to put on it. It was odd how much they had in common. They grabbed Chinese take-out on the way back to Cal’s. Ansel could plow through a dozen crab Rangoon like he was eating a handful of peanuts. Jazzi ordered pork lo mein, and he ordered Mongolian beef with extra rice. They stopped to buy an Arby’s Jr. for George. The pug wasn’t partial to soy sauce.
As usual, time passed quickly when they were together and Jazzi was surprised when she looked at her watch. “Holy crap! It’s almost nine. I have to stop at the store and buy a few things for tomorrow. Thanks for losing your free day to paint for me.”
“I like making you happy,” he said simply. And she realized she felt the same way about him.
“Emily doesn’t work tomorrow night?” she asked.
“No, she’s planning on coming home tomorrow morning and staying awake for most of the day. She likes brunch, so we’ll go somewhere for that. We’ll have the day together, and then when she falls asleep at about five thirty or six, she’ll sleep straight through until lunchtime on Monday.”
“Not a bad plan.” Jazzi wasn’t sure she could be sleep deprived that long, but nurses must get used to it. She turned to Ansel again. “Thanks for everything.”
He nodded, grabbed George, and followed her out of the house. They waved as they drove in separate directions. On the drive home, Jazzi realized that the second floor of Cal’s house was mostly done. The only thing that needed a little more polish was the hallway.
She stopped and grabbed a half-dozen slabs of baby back ribs and an extra slab for Ansel, then took the time to season them with a rub before calling it a night. Tomorrow, she’d throw them in the smoker early in the morning. And she’d save a slab for Ansel.
When she finally put things away and settled on the sofa in her apartment, she noticed the message machine was blinking on her phone. She punched it, expecting to hear someone ask if they’d renovate a house for them, but a woman’s voice snapped, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll quit playing detective. Keep your nose out of other people’s business.”
The voice was muffled. Jazzi didn’t recognize it, but that was the point. She looked at the caller ID. Private number. At first, the message made her nervous, but then she remembered the look on Beth’s face when she and Gaff left her house. Did she blame them for upsetting Sorrell enough to leave River Bluff
s? He would eventually have dumped her anyway.
Who else would call to warn her off? And what was the point? Gaff was the detective, not her. Jazzi shrugged. It had to be Beth. Once the girl calmed down, she’d come to her senses. Right?
Jazzi put the call out of her mind, crawled into bed, and dreamed about phantom phone calls off and on through the night. Okay, when she woke the next morning, she had to admit the call had spooked her a little, but she was meeting people she normally would never deal with and Gaff was putting them on the spot. They weren’t going to like her, and some of them were going to lash out. Hopefully, that’s all they’d do.
Chapter 22
Jerod walked through the door at two, sniffed, and smiled. “Pork heaven. I’m a happy man.”
Franny laughed at him. “If there’s meat and potatoes, you’re doomed.”
Gunner and Lizzie went straight to the cookie jar. Jazzi always filled it for them. In the winter, she baked the cookies. In the summer, she visited the bakery or store. Gunner, at four, lowered the jar for his year-and-a-half-old sister to choose. She dug to find the Oreos and he grabbed the Chips Ahoy.
“Only two each,” Franny told them. “We’re going to eat soon.”
Jerod looked at the table. “No deviled eggs?”
Jazzi knew her cousin. There were always eggs. “I haven’t put them out yet. You do the honors. I’m going to get the ribs off the grill.”
“Want the potato salad, too?” Franny called as Jazzi went out the door.
“Yeah, thanks! There’s watermelon salsa if you want some. The chips are on the counter.”
When Jazzi carried in six racks of ribs, Jerod and Franny had the rest of the food on the table and people were looking for spots to sit. It was the usual crowd—Mom and Dad, Dad’s brother, Eli, and his wife, Grandma, and Olivia and Thane.
Thane saw the ribs and grinned. “My favorites.”
It must be a guy thing. Jazzi liked ribs, but she liked other things every bit as much. Potato salad ranked high on her list.
People yakked and gossiped about what they’d been doing lately, avoiding the Lynda-Noah issue, and the meal was filled with a lot of laughter. The only hiccup was when Grandma looked at Franny and said, “It’s going to be a boy, Lynda. Choose a good name for him.”