By the time I pulled into the parking lot at the restaurant, Jasper had put on his game face, but I could see the distance between us.
“Are you okay?” I gave it a shot, not really expecting an answer.
“Yeah, sure. It’s a guy thing.”
“Oh.” We crossed the gravel parking lot and went through the front door, heading to the back deck that overlooked the water. It was crowded, but we found a tiny table by the railing. The waitress came over to take our drink order.
“Iced tea, please,” I requested, “unsweetened, with lemon.”
“Make it two,” he added. He was still avoiding my gaze, and I felt uncomfortable, like I had done something wrong. “Suzanne, I have to ask you something.”
I waited, watching. I needed to see his eyes. I needed to know if he really cared about the answer. Don’t ask me why, but something told me how I responded would change the course of our friendship.
“Those photographs of Jane…did you see them, or were you told about them?” he wanted to know.
“Why are we talking about Jane?”
“Humor me. Did you ever actually see them?”
“God, no. That’s disgusting!”
“Jane told you about them?” He pressed on.
“Her father did. Jane wouldn’t talk to me. She was too embarrassed. After all, I had taken her to the emergency room. I had held her hand when she gave a statement to the police officer. She left right after that and I never saw her again. All my cards and letters got returned. None of my phone calls were answered. Jane just cut me right out of her life, thanks to that prick!”
“Maybe that’s not why Jane cut you out of her life,” he suggested.
“What’s that supposed to mean? That I did something to hurt my best friend?”
“Forget it. Let’s change the subject.”
“I’m not sure I want to,” I replied. “What’s going on?”
“We can’t change the past, Suzanne. Let’s move forward.” Jasper cleared his throat, sounding like he was shifting mental gears. I waited, but he didn’t explain further. It was a long minute of silence before he started his report on Farmer Brown. “The neighbor’s name is John Sullivan. He’s a maintenance man for Duplox Industries. He claims he’s had a relationship with Susan Lefkowitz for the last six years. He met her at a psychic fair down the coast, and when the house next door to hers came on the market three and a half years ago, he bought it. Single, never married. John claims Rainbow disappeared in the middle of the night, after she had a visitor.”
Jasper took a long sip of his drink, watching the liquid move up through his straw. It was as if he was avoiding something unpleasant, something that involved me. Jasper had a secret he wanted to conceal, and now that I knew that, I had no intention of letting my heart get entangled with his.
“Who was the visitor?” I finally asked.
“What?”
“If Sullivan knew Rainbow had a visitor, he must have been watching. Maybe he was jealous, especially if it was a man who came to see Susan. He doesn’t seem all that emotionally stable to me. Maybe he had a Manson moment. Maybe he was all drugged up or drunk, and did something to Rainbow.”
“What? Killed her?” Jasper chuckled. “Too much TV, Suzanne. What did he do with the body?”
“Maybe he took it out in the middle of the ocean. Maybe he buried it in the woods. Who knows? She’s gone. Her family’s tried to find her since she disappeared three years ago. Sullivan moved in a short time before she went missing. Maybe he was stalking her.”
“You went from Point A to Point D without hitting B or C. How can you conclude that he was stalking her? The guy said he was trying to look out for her place while she’s gone.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to admit to himself that he hurt her,” I suggested.
“Maybe he didn’t hurt her,” he fired back.
“We’re not really doing well here, are we?” I looked long and hard at Jasper.
“It’s not you,” he admitted. “I’ve got something on my mind. It’s not anything I can talk about. Can you cut me some slack?”
I was going to make a snide remark. It was just on the tip of my tongue. But there was a look in those green eyes that begged me to go easy on him. Jasper was wrestling with something from his past, something that didn’t involve me. Maybe he got a call from his girlfriend. Maybe she sent him at “Dear John” text.
“Sure.” I turned my attention to the menu, glancing at the day’s lunch specials.
“Suzanne?” There was a small plea in Jasper’s voice. I heard it. It wasn’t my imagination. I looked up at him. “Things aren’t always what they seem. Sometimes things can sound worse than they really are.”
“Oh?”
“I just want you to know I respect you as a woman.”
“Great,” I smiled.
“I do. You’re smart and funny and sweet, underneath the frayed jeans and tee shirt.”
“Even with them,” I corrected him.
“Just remember what I said.” His eyes were on me, fastened tightly, as if he didn’t want me to look away until he was certain about me.
“I will,” I promised.
“Good.” With that, he turned his attention to the daily specials. “I think I’ll have the tuna wrap. How about you?”
The mood lifted after that. We went back to bantering about Glendale, about running, about the Sea Ray Sundancer he kept at the marina. By the time I bid him farewell at two o’clock, he seemed more like his old self. We made plans to get together right after the closing, so he could have a tour of the interior of the house.
In the time that followed, I checked on another property we had going over in Lincoln Valley, just about completed and ready for the market. The bathroom floors, tub surround, and kitchen backsplash were ready for installation, so I got busy laying tile and grouting. One of our painters was out sick with a bad case of poison ivy he got when he was working on the outside of the house, so I did some interior painting. The crew was ready to add the finishing touches on the house we knew would be a real hit with buyers. It was a good-looking property, and before the last of the annuals went into the flower boxes, we had two offers on it. Ned was happy, because one was $10,000 over asking.
The moment Ned got back to the office with the keys to the Glengarry Court bungalow, I dialed Jasper and made arrangements to take him through.
“How does five-thirty grab you?” He asked.
“Uh…” I hesitated. How do you tell someone you really need to go for a run? I wanted to kick myself for the long pause. After all, Jasper was serious about the property, and that really should be my priority.
“Were you going for a run?” he asked with a laugh.
“Well, it’s kind of my normal routine,” I acknowledged. “Get out of work, go for a run, have dinner.”
“I wouldn’t want to disrupt that,” he responded. “How about I meet you at your place, we do a run to the bungalow, check it out, and run back. I’ll take you to dinner.”
“After a run, I usually take a quick shower.”
“Is that an invitation?” Jasper wanted to know.
Chapter Seven —
“I’m just saying….”
“Relax, Dawkins. It was a joke. I told you I respect you as a woman,” he reminded me. “I have no problem with you taking a shower after we run. I’ll take one, too. And then we’ll hit the town.”
By five, I was itching to get out of the office. Ned kept piling papers on my desk and peppering me with questions. Finally he asked me where I was going in such a rush.
“Home.”
“Just home?”
“I’m going for a run with a friend.”
“Is that friend a guy, by any chance?” His eyebrows shot up expectantly.
“Maybe,” I grinned.
“Jasper?”
“Could be.”
“For a guy who blew you off, he’s certainly changed his tune. I thought he was married.”
“Nope. Has a girlfriend, but they seem to be going their separate ways. He came back because his brother-in-law died. He’s here to help his sister with her three kids. That’s why his mother’s moving to Glendale, too.”
“Family-oriented. That’s a plus. Just don’t get your hopes up. If he’s got a relationship, he could choose to go back to it, kiddo. You don’t want your heart broken.”
“True.” Ned had a point. There was no reason to think that Jasper was a free agent just yet. I decided to go with the running buddy route. I would keep it light and casual, but I would be the good friend in the frayed jeans and tee shirt.
I got home with barely ten minutes to spare, and as I waited, I changed my running shorts three times, finally settling on a hot pink pair. Just as I threw on a white tank top, I heard a knock at my door. Grabbing my running shoes and socks, I hurried out into the living room to let him in.
“Welcome,” I greeted him, throwing open the door. Jasper stepped in, gazing around my living room.
“You guys do the reno on this?”
“We did.”
“Nice.”
I gave him a quick tour, pointing out the view of the bay from my living room balcony and my pride and joy, the adjoining turret, with its many windows, where I had a dining table and chairs. He liked my raised gas fireplace, with its sea glass tile surround. I had carried that design element into the kitchen, where I had chosen a limestone porcelain tile, accented with shell-embossed tiles and tiny sea glass mosaic tiles. I shared with him the special features of my compact kitchen, from the rollout pantry to the dishwasher drawer.
“A lot of singles only fill their dishwashers once a week or run them more often than necessary. The smaller drawer lets me keep up with the washing, but it saves me water and electricity. It’s really convenient, considering the kitchen is so small.”
I showed him the bedroom with its angled ceilings and well-outfitted walk-in closet. I also showed him the adjoining bathroom, with the view of the ocean from the step-up tub. He asked me about storage, so I showed him the built-ins that were tucked throughout the space.
“And there you have it.”
“I like it. It’s architecturally interesting, but efficient. I think you’ll be able to come up with a winning design for June. Maybe you could walk her through these same kinds of options.”
“I’d be happy to show her the many, many, many options,” I agreed. He laughed at the emphasis. “Shall we head out?”
We started at a light trot, running side by side down the quiet lanes, chatting as we ran. Jasper was a good head taller than me, but he slowed his pace to meet my stride. We made it to Glengarry Court in about fifteen minutes. Removing the key from my pocket, I slipped it into the back door. I wanted to start in the kitchen, saving the best — the master bedroom — for last. Out of habit, I made sure the door locked behind me.
“Afraid the bogey man will sneak in?” Jasper teased.
“Actually, I once got cornered by a stranger who let himself in when I was working at a place by myself. Ever since, I’m overly cautious.”
“Oh, Suzanne, I apologize.”
“It’s okay,” I assured him. “It was a long time ago.”
As we moved from room to room, I explained each phase of the preliminary plan for changes. Jasper posed several questions about the expected construction, wanting to know the rationale for this choice or that. I took him down to the basement and showed him the laundry area and the spot where I wanted to put in a cedar closet. He informed me he’d prefer a washer and dryer on the first floor for June, so he wouldn’t have to worry about her falling down the stairs while carrying a laundry basket.
“There might be enough room in the bathroom,” I told him, as we headed back upstairs. I explained that my original idea was to put in both a shower and soaking tub. “We could lose one or the other and install a laundry closet.”
I paced out the space, showing him there was room for a full-sized stacked set or possibly a pair of side-by-sides. I was about to give him a rundown on the types of machines when he hushed me.
“Shh!” Jasper put a finger to his lips and stopped moving. A floor board squeaked as someone moved stealthily through the house. I held my breath as we waited to see what specter would appear. The footsteps suddenly stopped. A moment later, we heard them retreat. Jasper was out the bathroom door and through the hallway in a flash. By the time he reached the kitchen, the back door was wide open.
“I’ll bet it’s Sullivan,” I told him. Jasper leaned past me and looked out the kitchen window at the fleeing figure.
“And you would be right. He must have a key to the place.”
“We’ll change the locks tomorrow,” I decided. “I’ll let Ned know.”
“Good idea. We should nip the bad behavior in the bud, before he gets any more territorial.”
We locked the door again and then continued the house tour, inspecting the bedrooms. We finished up on the sun porch. Jasper thought June would make it a cozy den for watching television and the perfect place for all of her houseplants.
“Ned wants to reconnect the sun porch to the kitchen.”
“That would help a lot,” Jasper decided. “Much more convenient than going back through the house every time you want to go to the kitchen.”
I agreed as we retraced our steps. Standing on the back stairs, I locked up as Jasper watched me.
“You know, we could grab a couple of lobster rolls, Suzanne, if you’re in the mood.”
“Sounds good.”
“See? I’m a casual kind of guy,” Jasper grinned. “And you thought I was going to take you out for a stuffy meal at a snooty French restaurant, with a menu you can’t pronounce and waiters that give you the bum’s rush.”
“Hey, I like French food,” I told him as we started to trot. “I’m actually a decent cook. I make a mean ratatouille.”
“Do you? I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied. “Invite me the next time you make it, and I’ll give you my official decision.”
Twenty minutes later, we finished on Seaside Avenue, leisurely cooling off at the end of our run by walking along the boardwalk until we got to Hanover Street, where we crossed the street and waited our turn at Mel’s Crab Hut. The line was ten deep, but it moved quickly enough. We placed our order, waited a few minutes, and picked it up at the window when our number was called.
“Beach or picnic table?” Jasper asked me. I looked across the street at the sandy beach, where the surfers were coming and going, and then at the crowded tables on the lawn at Mel’s. For me, it was an easy decision.
“Beach.”
We carried our cardboard trays the hundred yards across the street. There was a beautiful orange glow painting the lowlying clouds that hovered above the sea. It felt good to have my toes in the sand. I noticed he seemed more relaxed here, too. We settled down, cross-legged, and opened the packages.
“What’s your girlfriend like?” I wanted to know. I bit into my lobster roll with gusto.
“Not like you,” were the words out of his mouth before he could stop himself. A look of shock came over his face as he realized what he had said. “I didn’t mean it in a negative way. At least not about you.”
“Okay,” I laughed nervously, not sure where this was going. “Let’s try again. What’s she like?”
“Very focused on her work,” he said.
“And I’m not?”
“You’re a lot…warmer. You’re not just focused on your job, you’re focused on the people around you.”
“Oh,” I nodded. “And that’s a good thing?”
“Eva is rather like a train with a powerful engine. There’s not a lot of negotiating about where the train’s going once the engine starts. She’s very determined and you can’t knock her off course when she makes up her mind.”
“That seems rather unyielding,” I commented. It was all I could do to not say she sounded like a bitch.
“Actually, Eva is in the silver circle for
financial planners who bring in more than $50 million dollars in client assets a year for the firm to manage. She’s a big success.”
“And yet, you have your doubts.”
“Maybe,” he replied. “She has some good points. She’s very efficient and goal-oriented. She always donates at least fifteen percent of her salary to charity. And she teaches finance at the university level.”
“So far, she sounds like a great business woman. What’s she like as a person?”
“Once you get to know her, she warms up.”
“That makes it sound like she can be cold.”
“Sometimes. She doesn’t suffer fools gladly.”
“Can I give you some unsolicited advice?” As I leaned forward, I accidentally brushed against him, our arms touching. “From one running buddy to another? You’re the kind of guy who would move back to his hometown to help his sister out. You’re the kind of guy who looks for just the right house for his mother. You’re a people person. Shouldn’t your wife also be like that? Otherwise, you’re going to be one miserable guy. It doesn’t really matter how successful a woman is if you’re not happy being with her.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” Jasper said wryly, watching the waves roll in. I wasn’t sure if I had overstepped my bounds in criticizing his relationship. The truth was I thought he deserved a better woman, even if it wasn’t me.
“Let me guess. Eva’s hot. Long legs, long hair, big boobs, and a butt that doesn’t jiggle. Am I close?”
He took a long swig on his bottle of Orangina and smiled, like he was remembering how she looked. I wanted to kick myself for reminding him what he didn’t have at the moment.
“Something like that,” he agreed, crunching on a kettle chip.
“I will never, as long as I live, understand you men. There is more to life than a woman who looks good naked!”
“Are you sure about that?”
“There’s friendship,” I pointed out. “It’s nice to have someone to spend time with out of bed.”
“That’s why I’ve got my buddies. We play basketball twice a week and golf on Saturdays and Sundays.”
No Hiding Behind the Potted Palms! A Dance with Danger Mystery #7 Page 36