Death, Deceit & Some Smooth Jazz

by Claudia Mair Burney

  I hear you, Lord. You are faithful. Help me be faithful, too.

  I crawled into my bed, alone, and put the covers over my head. I prayed for my way of escape.

  chapter fifteen

  IDIDN’T GOback to sleep. I went to Meijer, a twenty-four-hour store that sold everything on earth. I got new towels, toothbrushes, soap, deodorant, razors, and men’s socks. Then, after cajoling a poor employee who looked to be Jazz’s size into helping me, I picked out a pair of khaki pants, a leather belt, boxer briefs, and a black silk-blend henley.

  Upon arriving home, I showered, dressed, applied copious amounts of makeup, and by six o’clock in the morning, looked fabulous in tailor-made black wool slacks and a tight red mohair sweater Carly had given me for Christmas last year. My new braids swung around my shoulders and grazed the pearl-drop earrings dangling from my ears. Sasha would be proud.

  At eight-thirty Jazz stretched his long legs, yawned, and did a double take upon discovering my captivating beauty. I’d sat in the chair across from him with Rilke’sBook of Hours in my hand, hoping it would make me look deep and profound.

  “Good morning,” he said, unable to peel his eyes away from me.

  “Oh, hi.” I threw my words out there like he woke up on my couch every morning and I was tired of him.

  “You look very…”

  I raised an eyebrow that Lisa had expertly groomed last night.

  “You’re very beautiful, Bell.”

  Mission accomplished.

  “Would you like some breakfast, Jazz?”

  “Only if you can stand me for another second.”

  “I can stand you.”

  “I’m not sure I can stand myself.” He put his head in his hands, took a deep breath, then looked at me again. “About last night. I was way out of line. I’m sorry.”

  “Things happen. We got through it.”

  “I don’t feel like I know who I am anymore.”

  I looked at him. I had no idea what he meant. I wanted to play psychologist, but he’d only call me on it. I’d have to rely on prayer, and I wasn’t known for being a prayer warrior.

  Jazz sighed, a forlorn expression shadowing his face. “May I use your bathroom, please?”

  “Sure.”

  I’d frantically cleaned it. He’d better use it.

  He went into the bathroom and came out moments later with the khakis in his hands. “Uh, are these for me?”

  “Um-hmm.” I kept pretending to read.

  “Bell?”

  “Yes, Jazz?”

  “Why are you doing all of this?”

  “You need a friend.”

  “Is that what you are? Just a friend?”

  “Does it matter? I’m here for you.”

  “I want you to believe I’m innocent.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “You’re not sure, are you?”

  “I’m not sure about anything. I’m not even sure about what’s going on inside of me. I’m a regular doubting Thomas these days.”

  “But I’m no Christ. I don’t have nail prints or a sinless life to show you. And I’m fresh out of miracles.”

  “Then why don’t you just be Jazz——a man——and we’ll keep looking to the Christ who has the nail prints and a continuous supply of miracles.”

  “I hate that you’re not sure I didn’t do it.”

  “I said I’m here for you. Take it or leave it.”

  He took it and left the subject alone. A sly smile crept across his lips. “Maybe I’m the one who shouldn’t go anywhere. You know I like it here. All this place needs is my big-screen television…”

  “Jazz?”

  “And some man stuff. It’s already starting to get that manly smell.”

  “No, it’s starting to get that smelly smell because you stink. Please go take a shower.”

  He did a dead-on Ricky Ricardo imitation: “Lucy,I’m hoooooooome.”

  I hurled a throw pillow at him, laughed, and said, “Don’t get beside yourself, Jazzy. Ricky and Lucy weremarried .”

  “Now, there’s a thought,” he said. He went to the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

  I didn’t dare ponder what he’d said.

  When I heard the shower door close, I shot into the kitchen and removed his breakfast from the take-out containers from the Breakfast Nook——eggs Benedict, strawberries, and orange juice——and transferred them onto my own plates.

  Who said I was domestic?

  He came out of the bathroom ten minutes later, looking better than a T-bone steak after a week of Lean Cuisines. He had on the clothes I’d set out for him. I’d set the dinette table for us and was pretending to wash the skillet I hadn’t used.

  “I’m impressed. I didn’t take you for a morning person. It’s not even nine o’clock, and you’ve gotten me right and made this wonderful breakfast.” He winked at me. “Or, at least, you put it on the plates.”

  “Hey, I went to the restaurant and got it, too.”

  His arms circled my waist. “You’re sweet.” He kissed me on the cheek, then turned me to face him. “I could get used to this.” He pulled me closer and planted a soft, lingering kiss on my mouth.

  The room got very warm. I pulled away. “Okay, that’s enough.”

  He chuckled. “Enough? I just got started.” He massaged my neck.

  I took hold of his wrists. “Please stop.”

  “I just want——”

  “I know what you want.”

  “Do you?”

  “I’m pretty clear on it. You’re the one who quoted the Song of Solomon.”

  “Is that a sin?”

  “You tried to seduce me.”

  “I quoted biblical poetry to you. I told you how pretty you looked.”

  “You did a lot more than that.”

  “And a lot less than what I wanted to.”

  I pulled my hands away from his.

  His jaw tightened. “What? Now we can’t hold hands?”

  “You don’t seem to realize that I’m affected by things like that.”

  “Now I’m offending you?”

  “You’re teasing me.”

  “I’m touching you.”

  I took a step away from him. He made no effort to close the space between us. “Jazzy, can’t we just be honest? Isn’t that what you asked for the night Kate died? Let’s be honest about what’s going on between us.”

  He laughed. “Honest? Okay, let’s start with you. You’re sending me all kinds of signals that you’re loving the attention I’m giving you. Maybe you’re the one who’s being a tease.”

  “I’m not being a tease.”

  “Look at you. You’ve never dressed like this around me before. You want me to notice every curve of your body, and I have.”

  “I didn’t even know I’d see you last night,” I said, trying to divert him from his shamefully true statement.

  “That doesn’t mean your look isn’t for me. You may not have known I’d be here last night, but you knew when I fell asleep on your couch that I’d be here this morning. I’ve never seen you wear so much makeup.”

  “Maybe I want to look pretty.”

  “The makeup you wear most of the time is pretty. Red lipstick is sexy. You want me to desire you.”

  “I’m just trying to pamper myself,” I defended with an outand-out lie.

  “I stand corrected.”

  He moved over to the table and sat down. “Do you mind if I eat?”

  “Go ahead.”

  But he only picked at his food. He drank the orange juice in one big gulp. His clipped movements and his banging the utensils on the table told me he had a problem with the direction our conversation had taken.

  “Why didn’t you ever invite me to your place, Jazz?”

  “Why would I have a single woman in my apartment?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Kate was there.”

  “I didn’t invite Kate there. S
he just showed up.” He stabbed at his eggs.

  “Did you have other women over?”

  “Not since I got married,” he barked.

  “Are you getting upset?”

  “Why should I?”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “I’m not in the mood for your verbal Olympics, Bell.” He picked up a fork and nearly threw it back down again.

  “Why are you mad?”

  “Becauseyou can’t be honest.”

  “Iam being honest,” I said, but I wasn’t really certain what I was being besides confused.

  “You act like you don’t want me to desire you, but you have a problem because I didn’t take you home, where it would have been very difficult for me to be a good boy. You also act like desire in and of itself is a sin. What have we done? Kissed?”

  “Your hands seem to be busy lately.”

  “You’re right, Bell. I’m sorry. I happen to want to touch you. I’m a man.” He stood. “I shouldn’t have come over here.”

  “And that’s another thing. Why did you come, when you’re the one who said we shouldn’t see each other? You said it wasn’t safe.”

  “I guess I think it’s safe now.”

  “There are more ways than one to be unsafe.”

  “Have I violated you? Because the last time I checked, you were unsullied by me.” He glared at me when I didn’t answer. “Look. I’ll leave.”

  “You don’t have to leave.”

  “I don’t have to leave? What do you want from me? Do you want me to stay, or do you want me to leave? Do you want me to think you’re sexy? Or do you want me to think you’re a nun? Just a hint, if you’re going for nun, you might want to try again, ’cause what you have on issexy .”

  “All right, Jazz! You want the truth? I want you to think I’m attractive.”

  “You already know I think you’re attractive. You’re raising the stakes, baby.”

  “What about you? You say we can’t see each other, and then you show up here. You say you don’t want to sin, and then you can’t keep your hands off me. Why did you come here?”

  “Why do you think I’m here?”

  “I’m in no mood for your verbal tricks, either.”

  “A’ight, Bell. I came here because they took my badge, my gun, and my car. Because my parents put up their house to bond me out of jail. Because time is passing, and the person who killed Kate is a ghost. You wanna know why I came here? Because you wear tight jeans, little sweaters, and red lipstick for me. It feels good to touch you. And you smell good. And here’s a big revelation for you, Bell. Chasing you around your apartment is preferable to sitting at my parents’ house, wondering whether I’ll go to hell if I kill myself. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in prison for something I didn’t do.”

  The words hung like missiles in the air. I didn’t think he meant them.He couldn’t mean them, could he, God? “It scares me when you talk like that.”

  He looked at me, his Godiva-chocolate eyes mocking. “Could Bell actually be admitting to me that she loves me? Was that all it took? One little-bitty admission that I’m thinking of offing myself?”

  “You know that I’m required to address this.” I waited for him to pounce on me, as nearly everyone does when they think I’m being a psychologist and not a friend. Frankly, right now I couldn’t be more than clinical. If I were, I might blow it all by being truly honest. I hoped my body language didn’t betray the depth of how his words affected me.

  Jazz remained silent.

  “Are you seriously considering harming yourself?” I said.

  “I’m not going to kill myself, Bell,” he yelled. He raked his hand through his brown curls. Lowered his voice. “At least not today.” He sighed. “Really. It was just a thought.”

  “Jazz, you’re under a great deal of stress——”

  “You’re not my shrink. Try being what I want you to be right now.”

  “And what is that?”

  “You don’t dress like that at work. Why do you have that on?”

  “I asked what you want me to be right now.”

  “Maybe I want you to be the woman who dresses like that for me.”

  “Be careful, Jazz. I think you missed some honesty there.”

  “It takes a dishonest person to know one, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m being as honest as I can,” I said. “Here’s a little more for you: I have very strong feelings for you, physically and otherwise. But I don’t want to commit sexual sin. I won’t win any prizes for my devotional life, but I’m trying my best to hold on to all of the God I have. That’s the best I can do right now.”

  “I don’t want us to sin, either. I mean that, Bell. You wanna know why I’m here? I’m here because I need you. That’s the best I can do. Don’t make me leave today.”

  “I have things to do.”

  “I can stay here while you’re gone.”

  I tried to interject a little humor. “You’re not going to make yourself at home too much, are you, Ricky Ricardo?”

  “Today is her funeral.”

  “I know.”

  “I need you today.”

  For a moment neither of us spoke. I looked at him and saw that he’d managed to come up with a pair of puppy eyes that rivaled the king of puppy eyes himself, Rocky. Those eyes broke my heart.

  “Finish your breakfast. You’re going with me,” I said.

  “Change your clothes or we’ll be staying in,” Jazz said.

  Now, that was honest.

  “You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Brown.”

  chapter sixteen

  ICHANGED INTOa completely boring navy blue pantsuit and a white blouse. Something I’d wear not only to my private practice but to the jail. Jazz’s comment? “Yeah. That’ll work.”

  I had to practically force him to get inside the Love Bug. “I hate this car.”

  “It’smy car. You don’t have to get attached to it.”

  “Yeah, but I have to ride in it. It’s yellow, Bell.”

  “You like the yellow walls in my apartment. You said they’re soothing.”

  “But a Love Bug isn’t soothing. I feel silly in this car.”

  “It’s soothing to me. Just get in, Jazz.”

  He finally did——with an attitude.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. One challenge handled. Unfortunately, the next would be how to tell Jazz that he and I, andRocky, would be going to see my fertility doctor together. One big, happy family.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I have to stop at my church first.”

  “The Rock House?”

  “That’s my church.”

  “You’re going to go see yourboyfriend ?”

  “Stop calling him that. Everybody knows Rocky and I are no longer an item. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  He didn’t correct me by sayinghe was my boyfriend. I plotted to take him to several high-profile places in the Love Bug as punishment.

  After much complaining and pouting on Jazz’s part, we got to the Rock House. Jazz shot out of my vehicle like it was about to explode. Honestly, it was a fully loaded new Beetle, not an old busted-up hippie car. Why he had such an adverse reaction to it boggled my mind.

  He walked briskly to the front door of the building; I had to hustle to keep up with him. “Is he even here?” Jazz asked.

  “He’s the pastor. He does show up now and then.”

  “And who made him a pastor, anyway?”

  “Try God. Might I add, he’s great in this ministry.”

  Jazz grumbled, “That better be all he’s great in.”

  “Your jealousy is ridiculous. And it’s even worse than before. What is wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me? Try being up for a murder rap. Surely that gives ol’ puppy eyes the competitive edge for your affections.”

  I shook my head. “Ol’ puppy eyes isn’t pursuing me.” He wasn’t, really. I mean, maybe a comment here and there…“And green
isn’t your color, Jazz. Your jealousy was cute at first, but now it’s annoying.” I fished around in my purse for my keys.

  “You’ve got a key to your church?”

  “That’s a privilege of being the pastor’s girlfriend.” I looked at him. He’d turned red-faced, and not because of the cold. “I just said that to mess with you.”

  “You ain’t right, Bell.”

  “But you love me anyway.”

  “Whateva.”

  I put my key in the door, opened it, and could hear the music coming from the sanctuary. “Switchfoot. Rock’s favorite.”

  Jazz rolled his eyes.

  We walked down the corridor that led to the sanctuary, past a welcome center with brochures and free booklets and metal racks filled with bread from Food Gatherers for anybody to take.

  As we reached the door, the last riffs of “Stars” wailed from Rocky’s electric guitar. I smiled before I opened the door, knowing that this favorite song of Rocky’s would have him jumping up and down. He’d be singing with all the skill and passion of Switchfoot’s front man, Jon Foreman, whether he had an audience or not. But the moment he finished, without a pause, he went right into another song. A song I hadn’t heard in a long time. I had a visceral reaction to it. I stopped cold.

  Why is he playing that song?

  Before I had time to check my reaction, I swung the door open, and there was Rocky, guitar in his hands, rockin’ away. Elisa St. James——the sweet, pretty, green-eyed sistah who’d saved me from certain death in the last case I’d worked on with Jazz——sat in front of him, engrossed in his performance, which was apparently for her alone.

  Well, not for her alone. Elisa was now seven months pregnant, and Rocky’s head was bent, singing his heart out to Elisa’s pregnant belly——or rather, its inhabitant. Rocky was serenading her withmy favorite childhood comfort song, but the special rock-and-roll version he’d arranged for the baby we thought I’d have with him. He’d gifted me with it when he and I were in love and he’d asked me to be his wife and have his children. This was before he knew I wouldn’t be able to have a tribe of little Rocks like he wanted. Before either of us knew that, ultimately, that would be the reason we’d break up.