Saints & Sinners Ball

by Stacy M Jones

  Det. Granger finally looked up at her and made eye contact. “We won’t take long, but I have to ask you all to clear out while we search. Is there a basement or attic?”

  “There’s no basement, but there is an attic, not that anyone has been up there in ages. But you’re free to search it.” Turning back to Harper and Jackson, Hattie said, “I have to get back to the shop. Could you both stay over at your house, Jackson, and then you can lock up for me when they are done? I’m going to be late tonight. Beatrix and I have a little project we have to work on at nightfall.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Who’s Beatrix?” Harper asked curiously as Jackson unlocked the front door and stepped inside the enclosed front porch that ran the length of the home. Harper didn’t say it out loud, but she was happy she was going to get a chance to check out Jackson’s place. She was curious about the man. He didn’t say much about his life. Harper wanted to know more.

  “Beatrix is the assistant your aunt hired to help in the shop when she found out you were moving here,” Jackson explained, distracted as he grabbed his mail and stepped into the foyer.

  Jackson offered Harper the five-cent tour, and she jumped at the chance. Then Harper worried she seemed too eager. But if she came across that way, Jackson didn’t give any sign of noticing. He lived in a rehabbed Craftsman with hardwoods, crown moldings and the unique built-ins the style was known for. The front door opened to a small foyer that had a staircase to the second floor and hallway that ran back to the kitchen. Off to the left was the living room, which flowed back into a dining room. A door on the right of the dining room took them to the kitchen. The dining room also had French doors that led to a back deck.

  Upstairs there were four bedrooms off the main hallway plus a bathroom. It was similar to Hattie’s house upstairs but smaller and fewer bedrooms. His bedroom had a nice dark wood dresser set plus a big bed with the same dark wood headboard. Jackson’s bed was made neatly. He even had decorative throw pillows Harper assumed came with the comforter set, which was a simple navy blue. Harper was both intrigued and amused that a bachelor would not only have throw pillows but have them on a neatly made bed. Military values Harper guessed.

  They walked back downstairs, and Harper took a seat on the brown leather sofa. Jackson offered her a drink, and she declined. He sat in a reclining chair in the corner of the room.

  Once they were seated and comfortable, Jackson admitted, “We probably should have seen this coming.”

  “What do you mean?” Harper asked, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet under her.

  “This is Inslee’s doing. If the cops really suspected your aunt of any wrongdoing, they would have searched her place last night not given her an entire night and half day to hide evidence. He’s just doing this as a show of force.”

  “What do you really think is his issue with her?” Harper wondered. Although Harper had grown up with her aunt, and Hattie was the person she trusted most in the world, she still felt like Jackson might have an advantage having spent more recent time in close proximity to her.

  “It could be anything. If I had to guess – fear.”

  “Fear of what though because Hattie thinks she’s psychic and a witch?”

  Jackson didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he leaned forward in his chair and looked over at Harper. “You really don’t think she’s psychic?”

  “It’s not that I don’t believe Hattie is a psychic or witch, it’s that I don’t believe those are real things. I don’t believe in that at all.”

  “I see,” Jackson said thoughtfully. “So, because you don’t believe in them, it must not be real, right?”

  Harper sighed loudly. “Are you telling me you really believe?”

  “Yes,” Jackson said emphatically. “At the very least, I believe that your aunt is gifted, and who am I to question that gift. You should step back and at least give your aunt the benefit of the doubt. Otherwise, it’s kind of disrespectful to someone who cares about you a great deal.”

  Then Jackson added quickly, “You can’t explain everything in the world, Harper. You’re better off looking at things with an open mind.”

  Harper thought for several moments. She felt scolded like she was a child, but Jackson did have a point. “Got it,” was all she conceded.

  Harper knew deep down that Hattie was gifted. For that matter, Hattie’s father’s sisters had been gifted as well as women on the Ryan side generations before. It’s not like Hattie was the first in the family. Harper knew the stories since childhood. She just still had a hard time believing.

  Jackson was watching her. Harper smirked. “Since you lectured me instead of just answering my question, do you think that’s why Inslee’s afraid of Hattie?”

  “I don’t know,” Jackson admitted. “It’s something though. He seems to have taken an immediate dislike to Hattie, and he’s running with it.”

  Harper got up and walked to the window. She called over her shoulder, “They are still over there. Think they will be long?”

  “You not comfortable here?”

  Harper laughed. “No, nothing like that. I like your house. It’s cozy. I just wondered how long they’d be.” Harper felt nervous and a bit excitedly anxious. She wasn’t sure why.

  Harper looked over at Jackson sitting in his chair. She asked, “What did you study in college?”

  “Criminal justice.”

  “Oh, so that helps us out,” Harper teased. “When you were in the Army, did you go to Iraq?”

  Jackson nodded, but didn’t elaborate.

  She continued, “Afghanistan?”

  Jackson nodded again. He raised his eyebrows at her. “What is this? Twenty questions?”

  She shrugged. “Just trying to get to know you better. You’re all…” Harper stopped. She wasn’t sure what word she was trying to find. Secretive wasn’t right. Then Harper remembered what Hattie had said, so she finished her thought, “Closed off.”

  “I’ve been accused of that before. I could say the same about you.” And that was all Jackson gave her. He got up and walked to the kitchen, leaving Harper to stand alone in the living room.

  A few minutes later, Jackson came back with two glasses of tea. He handed Harper one. “I’m thirsty so you’re drinking, too.”

  As Harper took the glass from him, their fingers brushed. They lingered for a moment before Jackson pulled his hand back. Neither one of them sat back down. They both just stood there in the middle of his living room appraising each other.

  Jackson’s eyes never left Harper’s as he took a sip. He said, “This isn’t nearly as good as Hattie’s, but it will do.”

  Wanting desperately to get back to the conversation before Jackson interrupted, Harper said softly, “I know this probably hasn’t been your experience, but I’m someone you can trust. I’m not going to hurt you or take anything from you. You’re just someone I’d like to get to know better.”

  “Same,” Jackson replied, short on words but his gaze never wavered.

  Harper was hoping for more of a response, but that would have to do. They were arm’s length apart. The air was thick between them. She took a sip, and then without thinking about it, licked her bottom lip. When Harper looked up, Jackson was watching her intently, focused in on her mouth. Harper suddenly wondered what it would be like to kiss him. His lips were full, inviting. She felt foolish for thinking such a thing, although, from the look on his face, his thoughts didn’t seem to be far off.

  Harper wasn’t used to this kind of chemistry with a man. She wanted to explore it. She wanted to flirt with him and say something interesting, but her mind was blank. Finally, she broke the tension in the only way she knew how. “Who do you think killed Tucker Reese?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  After several seconds of awkward silence, Jackson moved away from Harper and sat down in his chair again. “Who do I think killed Tucker Reese?” Jackson said as much to himself as to her. “I don’t really know. I can tell you wh
o I think would be on my list of suspects though.”

  “Before you do that,” Harper interrupted, still standing in the middle of the room, “do you have a dry erase board or paper or something we can make a visual murder board?”

  “A murder board?” Jackson looked at her bemused. “You do this often?”

  “No, I saw it on a cop TV show though,” Harper explained excitedly. “They write it all down so they can stand back and look at it. They get other clues and ideas.”

  Harper started feeling that old rush of adrenaline she used to feel when she began plotting out the next magazine. She’d gather her team around for a brainstorming session. Any idea, no matter how silly it seemed, went on the board. They would sort through later to see what was relevant and what stuck. Harper was of the get it out, then get it good mentality. It was the way she wrote, too. Harper realized she missed working and wanted to be a part of any team. Specifically, Harper liked the idea of being on Jackson’s team. One thing for sure, she missed feeling useful.

  Without saying anything, Jackson got up and walked upstairs. He came back down a few minutes later with a few markers and some large poster-sized sticky notes. “Will this do?”

  “Perfect,” Harper beamed.

  Jackson rolled his eyes at her. “You are way too excited about this. So where do we start, Ms. Detective?”

  “Not sure.” Harper took a red marker in her hand and looked at the blank page of paper. “Let’s start with what we know for sure. The facts.”

  Harper and Jackson spent the next hour going over every detail they knew to be true, including time and date of death, details about the party, the sparse details they knew about the devil-masked man, and even who they saw while the murder was taking place so they could rule out who couldn’t have been the killer. They talked about the murder weapon, and obviously, Jackson knew much more about guns than Harper ever cared to know.

  Watching Jackson talk about something that he was so clearly knowledgeable about allowed him to relax. Jackson’s face was animated. He gestured with his hands when he talked. Harper liked watching him, learning from him. Harper was used to being the one in charge. Getting to step back was refreshing for her.

  Jackson suddenly stopped talking. With his head cocked to the side, looking at Harper with curiosity, he asked, “What are you smiling about?”

  Harper was caught off guard. She hadn’t realized she was actually smiling while listening to him. “Nothing, I…” Harper stammered and then stopped. She didn’t have an excuse. She fidgeted with the marker. Harper suddenly felt like a kid with her first crush.

  Jackson just looked at her, a confused expression on his face.

  Harper tried to regain her normal composure. She decided honesty was probably best. “You just look handsome when you’re talking about something you’re really interested in. Your face kind of lights up. I like it.”

  “Oh, well, thanks…” Jackson sputtered, running a hand down his face. He laughed. “Now you got me all distracted. Let’s get back to work.”

  Harper offered, “Maybe his wife or girlfriend killed him. I heard he wasn’t always faithful. Isn’t that what they always say? It’s someone they know.”

  “That’s what they say, but I think nearly everyone at the party, except us, knew him. But you’re right, the wife and girlfriend should be high on the suspect list.”

  Jackson got up and pulled off two pieces of paper. With his own marker, he made another list. Jackson turned to Harper who was watching him and explained, “This is our to-do list. And that can be our suspect list.”

  “You’re getting into this now,” Harper teased.

  Jackson ignored her and continued, “There are two suspects who stand out the most to me that need to be explored – the wife and the priest.”

  “I agree with what we know right now,” Harper said. “I wonder if Tucker was working on any big cases. Maybe someone who wanted retaliation?”

  “That’s a possibility, too,” Jackson agreed. He stopped writing. “Was Inslee at the party?”

  Harper thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I hadn’t met him before he came into Hattie’s house after. If he was there, I wasn’t introduced to him. He sure acted like he wasn’t.”

  “That’s what I mean. He was dressed in a suit, not formal attire. But for some reason I remember his name on the guest list.”

  Harper grabbed her cellphone and called Dan. He answered almost immediately. She asked if he had seen Inslee at the party. After hanging up, Harper explained to Jackson, “Dan said Inslee was there early, talking to a group of women from the Junior League, but didn’t see him later.”

  Jackson said sarcastically, “Danny boy sure answered your call quickly.”

  Harper ignored him. She sat down on the couch going over the events of the evening. She asked, “Don’t you think that if Inslee was there when I found Tucker’s body, he would have come running over? Maybe he left before it happened.”

  “Maybe, but if he was there and didn’t tell us, that strikes me as suspicious.”

  “What motive would Inslee have to kill his boss?” Harper asked.

  Jackson shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Motive is the next list.”

  Car doors slamming interrupted their work. Harper and Jackson moved toward the front door and stepped out onto the enclosed front porch. They had a direct line of sight to Hattie’s front yard. The cops were leaving. Harper noted, “I should probably go and lock up the house.”

  “You coming back?” Jackson asked.

  “Haven’t you had enough of me for one day?” Harper queried, a teasing smile on her face.

  “We have work to do,” Jackson replied matter of fact. Harper saw the corners of his mouth turn up into an almost smile. He added, “I thought maybe we’d order pizza for dinner.”

  “Arkansas pizza is not going to entice a New Yorker,” Harper groaned. “Is it dreadful?”

  “You’re not going to get New York pizza down here in the south. That’s one adjustment you’ll have to make, princess. I found a place that’s decent. Try it.”

  “Fine, fine,” Harper relented. “You order, and I’ll go lock up. There’s money in my wallet.”

  “I don’t want your money,” Jackson said absentmindedly as he walked back into the living room.

  About twenty minutes later, they were enjoying pizza at Jackson’s kitchen table. Harper thought it wasn’t bad. Definitely not what she had in Manhattan, but she’d adjust. After dinner, they spent the rest of the evening making a plan to find Tucker Reese’s killer.

  Chapter Twenty

  It was just after seven in the evening. Hattie closed up shop as she always did at six. Beatrix was walking around the shop, using white sage to purify the space as she went. This was a normal end of the day task. Clear out and purify the energy of the day so tomorrow they could start anew.

  But tonight, they were doing something else – a protection spell. Hattie was at the rectangle table in the middle of the room. The lights in the shop were off and the shades drawn. The pair were working by candlelight. Hattie had a black candle lit on the table and her supplies in front of her. Beatrix brought over the sage and picked up each of the four tiger’s eye stones that Hattie had on the table and passed them through the sage smoke.

  Hattie, with Beatrix by her side, then drew a circle of black salt on the table. Then Hattie picked up each of the tiger’s eye stones and placed them for north, south, east and west. She placed her cauldron in the middle of the circle, and Beatrix saged a circle of smoke around that. With each step Hattie was focused on her intent for protection.

  Then one by one Hattie added a bit of olive oil, rosemary and one star anise to the cauldron. She lit a candle under it and let it burn. Hattie and Beatrix held hands and chanted words of protection asking the elements of the earth to feed their spell and place a ring of protection around the shop. Their voices were strong and intent even stronger. Once they were satisfied with their work, Hattie took each of the tig
er’s eye stones and placed them in the four outermost corners of the shop. Then she sprinkled a row of black salt across the doorway and window sills. She came back to Beatrix, and they said a few more words of protection and snuffed out the candle to close the spell.

  “How do you feel?” Hattie asked.

  “Good, the energy was strong. I can tell you’re as powerful as my mother. Are you going to do the same spell at your house?”

  “I am,” Hattie said. “I’m going to try to get Harper to help me out. I don’t know that she will. Harper’s gifted. She just doesn’t recognize it.”

  “She’ll get there. I have a feeling,” Beatrix said seriously. “You should invite Harper to the shop, not to help with the magic or readings, but tell her you need someone to wait on customers who need coffee and tea. Maybe if Harper’s here and sees it’s not so unusual, she might feel better.”

  Hattie looked at the girl, a bit surprised. “That’s very perceptive of you. How did you think of that?”

  Beatrix started cleaning up the spell remnants. “You grew up with this from your aunts you said. I grew up with it from my mom. It’s something we always knew. You said Harper grew up very different. We only know from our perspective until we are exposed to something different.”

  Hattie laughed. “Are you sure you’re twenty?”

  Beatrix stopped and seemed to think for a minute. Then she shrugged. “My mom always said I was an old soul.”

  Hattie gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Well, old soul, this tired old lady is heading home. I think I’ll take your advice. Thanks for staying late to help me.”

  With that Hattie and Beatrix left the shop. Hattie took a deep breath of fresh air. It was dark but usually Hattie didn’t mind walking through her neighborhood at night. Since the murder, the air had felt different. Hattie wouldn’t say she felt unsafe, it was just different. She quickened her pace.

  Hattie distracted herself wondering if Harper was still with Jackson. She could tell they were growing on each other. In fact, if Hattie were to guess, she thought Jackson might even be a bit jealous about Dan. Jackson had a bit of competition whether he had admitted his attraction to Harper to himself or not.