She lifted the box and carried it past him, out of the bathroom, dropping it next to the front door. He followed her, as he had all morning while she tried to get her belongings packed up.
Muffy immediately nosed through the box, just in case something edible had fallen in by mistake.
“I’ll put some coffee on,” Sam offered, heading for the kitchen.
“That would be wonderful.” She looked around the room. She must have missed something, but it wasn’t as if she were going halfway around the world. She’d only be a few miles away. Sam could bring her whatever she forgot.
“Have you heard from Diane?” he called from behind the partition. She could hear him clinking glassware.
“I spoke with her this morning while you were in the shower. Both she and Anne Marie are hanging in there. She’s back at school and plans to stay there. Her teachers have given her plenty of time to make up her work, and the scholarship Donald set up for her is a prepaid, four-year program, so her expenses are all taken care of, regardless of what happens to him.”
She squatted down and reached under the chair, searching blindly. She could have sworn Muffy had brought her favorite toy, a green rubber frog. Muffy would be most unhappy if they got home without it.
He poked his head around the divider. “Good thing. I don’t think Donald’s going to be much help to her for a while. Lots of legal fees. He’s got a lot to answer for.”
“He told Diane, up at the lake, that when he got to her house in Bethesda, Robert had already shot Colette. He tried to perform CPR, but there was nothing he could do. When Robert realized she was dead, he put the gun to his own head. That’s when they struggled, and the gun went off. Donald panicked. He was desperate to get out of the house, but he couldn’t very well leave Diane. He found her in an upstairs bedroom, crying, frightened by the noise. The cast on her leg had kept her from getting out of bed by herself. He wrapped her in a blanket and made sure she didn’t see anything.”
“But why’d he take her to the lake?”
Jennifer sat back on her ankles. That darn frog was definitely lost. “He wanted to explain everything to her before he turned himself in to the police and she read it in the papers. Of course, Paul had other plans.”
“Now that she knows who her birth parents are, is that going to make a difference?”
“Myers is arranging a meeting with Mrs. Owens over fall break. She was absolutely ecstatic when she found out we’d located her granddaughter. Anne Marie’s being very supportive. Diane even asked her to go with her to Maryland.”
She maneuvered forward, on all fours, across to the beanbag. As far as Muffy was concerned, this was a great game, having Jennifer at eye level. She licked her nose. Jennifer pushed her out of the way and lifted up the chair. Nope. Nothing there.
“Diane’s eighteen,” she said, glancing around the room, “was, as of August fourteenth. She’s free to do whatever she wants. Funny how that freedom finally makes you appreciate what your parents do for you.” She collapsed with her back against the beanbag and watched as Muffy trotted toward the bedroom.
Sam grinned. “It’s tough being a grown-up.” He went over to her, offered her his hand, and pulled her up.
“Oh, yeah,” she agreed, coming up almost nose-to-nose with him. They broke away: she to the dining table to pack up her computer, he back to the kitchen.
Muffy reappeared, trotting over to her. The frog’s head peeked out from the dog’s curled lips. “Where in the world did you have that hid? You could have saved me a whole lot of trouble—”
“You talking to me?” Sam called out.
She rubbed Muffy’s ears. “You never told me how Paul got the drop on you out at the lake.”
Sam returned carrying two cups of coffee. He set one down for her on the table, and she took a sip. The man did make a decent cup, just the way she liked it with both cream and sugar.
“Oh, that. Zeeman—”
They heard a knock at the door. Jennifer winced. She’d had enough unexpected company to last her a long time.
Sam opened the door as she unplugged the keyboard and wrapped the cord around it.
“Is Jennifer here?” It was Johnny’s voice. What could he possibly want?
Sam, looking somewhat irritated, let him in. He was carrying a large box.
“Marsh,” he greeted her, setting the box next to her on the table. “So, looks like you’re moving out.” He seemed way too pleased, as though somehow he’d won, as if he and Sam were actually in a kind of competition.
The comment irritated her almost enough to make her want to stay. “Johnny. What brings you by?” She asked as nicely as she could, as she coiled the cord from her monitor and secured it with a twist tie.
“You wouldn’t let me pay you...” Johnny began.
Sam shot her a look, and she shrugged. It wasn’t like she could take money for what she’d done for Diane. It didn’t seem right.
“Anyway, I wanted you to have this, a little somethin’ to remember me by.”
Before she could thank him, he was at the door. Obviously, Johnny was uncomfortable with sentiment. Sam already had his hand on the knob ready to shut it after him, but Johnny stopped, put his palm on the door frame, and turned back. “Remember, you need a job, you’ve got it.”
He pulled his hat down and then he was gone. Sam closed the door.
“You shouldn’t be accepting gifts from a man like that,” Sam told her. In her mind she could hear Dee Dee and Teri echoing his words.
Well, none of them understood, couldn’t understand until they’d stood in an alley with bullets whizzing past. When two people face death together, they develop a certain bond.
She untied the string and lifted the box lid. Inside was a brown felt fedora.
Chapter 40
The zzzzt, zzzzt, zzzzt, of the neon light outside the upstairs window of The Martin & Zimmerman Detective agency soothed Jimmy with its familiar rhythm. He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out another fifth of bourbon, tossing the empty one at the trash can. It hit hard on the floor beside it, but it didn’t break.
He unscrewed the top of the new bottle, took a healthy swig, and let out a gasp. It was cheap, but effective. He had all night to nurse that bottle dry, and why not? His partner had left the business, and it was all his fault. He leaned back in the swivel chair, put his feet on his desk, and took another drag on his cigarette. He could feel the smoke reach down into the lowest part of his lungs.
The knock on the door startled him.
“Go away,” he called, slurring his words, helping himself to another gulp of whiskey, and rubbing the thick growth of beard that covered his cheek. He had no use for anybody, hadn’t for two days.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a woman standing in the entrance. He could have sworn he’d locked that door.
He looked her up and down. Tall, thin, lanky, dressed in a form-fitting suit and high heels with legs that went on to meet the sky.
He must be dead because she was an angel.
She flowed over to his desk and tugged the bottle from his grip. “Mr. Zimmerman,” she purred, “you’ve got to help me.”
What could an angel want from him?
“I’m out of the business, doll. Go find yourself some other P.I.”
“I’ve got to have the best, Mr. Zimmerman.”
He snorted. “The best left out of here two days ago.”
“Second best, then,” she insisted. A tear ran down her cheek.
Jimmy hated it when women cried. He took his feet down and sat up, as best he could, in his chair. She looked like she needed help, but he was fresh out. “I want you to let yourself out. Then I’m going to drink the rest of that bottle of bourbon you’re holding, and hope I’ll pass out.”
“But—”
“No buts, sweetheart. Now hand it over.” He held out his hand.
“But you don’t understand....”
Jennifer pushed up the brim of the
brown fedora and stared at her computer screen. “Okay, Jimmy,” she whispered. “If you can solve this one, I’ll let you get the girl.”
If you enjoyed this book, Jennifer’s adventures continue in book four of the series, DYING TO REMEMBER. http://www.amazon.com/Dying-Remember-Jennifer-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B00640Z5F0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1335778632&sr=1-1
For a complete list of Judy Fitzwater’s books, descriptions and links to Amazon for purchase
Visit her web site at:
www.judyfitzwater.com
Contact her at [email protected]
The Jennifer Marsh Mysteries:
Originally published by The Ballantine Publishing Group
Dying to Get Published
Dying to Get Even
Dying for a Clue
Dying to Remember
Dying to Be Murdered
Dying to Get her Man
CHECK OUT HER NEWEST RELEASE: DROWNING IN AIR
http://www.amazon.com/Drowning-in-Air-ebook/dp/B007YS9CQO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1335779319&sr=1-1
Other Books by Judy Fitzwater:
No Safe Place
A Silhouette Bombshell published by Silhouette Books, New York, New York
Dying for a Clue Page 18