The woman repeated it to the detective. “Uh-huh.” She paused. “Okay, Detective.”
“Is he coming?” Jenessa asked. A nervous energy rose in her and she struggled to keep it in check.
“He said to have you cool your jets over there.” The woman pointed to a row of chairs along the wall.
“How about Detective Baxter? Is he available?” She couldn’t just sit and wait when there was a story to get.
The receptionist dropped her chin and glared at Jenessa over her glasses. “Hmm, let’s see.” She picked up the phone again, dialed and waited. “Sorry, just going to voicemail.” She set the receiver down. “Anyone else you’d like me to call?”
“No.” Jenessa reluctantly took a seat.
After a few minutes, the gray-haired detective came out to the reception area, followed by newly-dubbed Detective Baxter. “What can we do for you, Miss Jones?”
She started to smile at Michael, but caught herself. Detective Provenza likely wasn’t aware of her personal relationship with the junior detective. She needed to keep professional decorum. “I wondered if I might be able to see Logan Alexander, as a friend.”
“He’s not talking,” Michael said, “under the advisement of his lawyer and his father.”
“Are they in with him?” she asked.
“You just missed them,” George said.
Lucky me. “If he doesn’t want to talk to me, I’ll go away, but just ask him, please.”
“All right,” George reluctantly agreed. “I’ll be right back.” He wandered off down the hall.
Michael took the chair beside Jenessa. “Why do you want to talk to him? He’s been arrested for murdering your best friend’s mother.”
“I know, but it’s my job—what can I say?” She shrugged. “I’m hoping I have an in because we’re old friends.” But it was more than that. She wanted Logan to look her in the eye and tell her he didn’t do it. She had to know she hadn’t created a child with a killer.
Michael sat back in the chair and crossed his arms. No retort, no argument. They sat in awkward silence until Provenza returned.
“Looks like today is your lucky day,” Detective Provenza announced. “Alexander agreed to see you.”
Good fortune has struck twice in one day.
Michael stood. “I’ll take you back there.” His voice was pleasant enough, but the expression on his face told a different story.
Chapter 33
Logan was seated on the bed, which was little more than a cot, but jumped to his feet as Jenessa and Michael approached.
Michael held the cell door open and she slipped inside. “Just holler for the guard when you’re done.” He closed the door, made sure it locked, and stalked away.
Jenessa watched Michael go. When she was certain he was out of earshot, she turned to Logan.
He had dragged a metal chair to the bed and gestured toward it with his outstretched hand, as he sat on the mattress. “I wanted to spend some time alone with you, Jenessa, but this isn’t how I envisioned it.” He seemed to be struggling to keep his voice light and his spirits up.
“I never thought I’d be visiting you in jail, either.” She glanced at the stark surroundings. It was a far cry from his usual digs.
His voice turned serious. “My father and my attorney told me not to speak to anyone.”
“I’m here as your friend.”
“So, whatever I say is off the record?”
“It is.”
His curious gaze roved over her body. “You don’t have some sort of wire or recording device on you, do you?”
“No, Logan. It’s just me.”
“Why did you come?” His piercing eyes searched her face, as if hoping for an encouraging answer.
“The police have evidence that you are the one that buried Lucy St. John in the shallow grave by your lake house.”
“My family’s lake house,” he corrected.
“They’re saying you had motive and opportunity, and with your DNA that the CSIs found at the gravesite, they’re looking at you for the murder.”
“Yeah, that’s what my lawyer said, but I don’t understand how they could have found my DNA. I was never anywhere near that woman.”
“You had to be.”
“But I wasn’t,” he shot back.
She sprang to her feet. “Then how could your DNA have been found with her body?”
He jumped up as well and grabbed her by her shoulders, locking his gaze on hers. “Listen to me, Jenessa. I did not kill Lucy St. John!”
Jenessa tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. “Let go! You’re hurting me.”
His hands flew out to the sides. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize.” Fear welled up in his eyes. “You have to believe me. I did not kill that woman. They have the wrong man.”
“Or woman,” she muttered. Her thoughts went to those she had of Ramey the previous night, but her friend wasn’t the only female that might have wanted Lucy dead. Lauren Alexander could have wanted to silence Lucy too. Maybe even Elizabeth, the ex-wife.
“Woman?” Logan’s eyebrow quirked.
“I simply meant if it wasn’t you, it could have been a man or a woman.”
“If it wasn’t me? So you think I could have done this?” He sank down onto the bed, running his fingers through his hair. “Oh, man.”
She sat beside him. “It could have been an accident.” Something inside urged her to put her arm around him and comfort him, but she held herself back. “Maybe you went to talk some sense into her and things got out of hand. Or she attacked you and it was self-defense.”
Logan shook his head, then looked directly into her eyes, gently taking her hand. “No, Jenessa. I did not kill Lucy St. John—not under any circumstances. You have to believe me. I don’t know how my DNA got anywhere near her dead body, but it wasn’t me—I swear.”
Jenessa stared deeply into his eyes, probing them for the truth. Raw fear was an expression she had never seen in them before, but today it was filling his eyes and spreading across his face. Even the night they had to tell their parents that she was pregnant was nothing compared to now.
“Say you believe me,” he begged, his moist eyes pleading.
She pulled her hand back. She couldn’t do it. “I want to say it, Logan, really I do, but I have to follow the facts.” And she would continue to follow them, wherever they led, but for now she was satisfied that she had gotten what she had come for, to look into Logan’s eyes and hear from his own lips that he did not kill Ramey’s mother.
“Then follow the facts and prove me innocent.” He seemed to gain strength in her resolve. “Don’t let the cops stop looking for the real killer. You know how they can be. They get a suspect under arrest and they stop considering any other possibilities.”
Jenessa stood to leave. “I won’t stop digging, Logan.”
“I believe you.” He took her hand again. “I meant what I said the other night.”
She pulled her hand back. “You told me at the park that you were too drunk to remember anything.”
“I lied.”
“And are you lying now?” she asked.
“I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Jenessa turned toward the bars, her heart quickening its beat.
“We were too young to get married and have a baby back then,” he said. “We were just kids ourselves—you know we were.”
“I know.”
“I was immature and self-centered. I just wanted to be a big football star and didn’t want a baby to stand in the way of that.”
She slowly turned and looked up at him, her eyes suddenly moist. “Not just a baby—our baby—our son.”
“You know what I meant. I’ve thought about that little boy many times over the years, wondered if he looked like me, if he’d grow up liking football as much as I did.”
“So, it’s still all about you, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t mean it that way. I hope he’s being raised in a good family, not
a dysfunctional one like mine, with too much money and too little love.”
Had he really been thinking of their son all these years? She had always believed it was just her.
“I’m not that guy anymore, Jenessa. I’ve tried to make something of myself, work to be a good businessman in my own right, not simply riding my father’s coattails. Can’t you see that?”
She studied him, wondering how much she should believe. He was always a good talker. As she stared into his eyes, something was tugging at her heart, drawing her to him—but she resisted.
“What I see is a handsome face, a hot body, and a silver tongue, all of which makes up a man that is used to getting whatever he wants. A guy who took what he wanted from me and cast me aside to fend for myself, who let his father bully me into giving up our baby.”
“I already told you—that was the old Logan. He was just a stupid teenager. This Logan is a responsible, hardworking man who regrets the mistakes he made back then. And if I remember correctly, I didn’t have to take anything from you. You gave it up willingly.”
Her hand flew across his face before she realized what she was doing.
He froze and stared at her without saying a word. Shock widened his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Her cheeks flushed. “I…I don’t know what came over me.”
“Years of pent-up anger, I’m guessing.” He rubbed his cheek. “I can’t say I blame you. I didn’t express myself very well. What I meant is that you gave yourself to me willingly because we were in love.”
Thinking back to that night, she had to agree, but the memory suddenly made her uncomfortable. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I need to go.”
“Will you help me? Because I’m desperate to find out who really killed Lucy.”
“I’ll see what I can do. No promises.”
“I appreciate that.”
She stepped to the cell door and called out, “Guard!”
~*~
Jenessa left Logan sitting in his cell, fearing for his life. Her boss would expect a story update that afternoon, and the residents of Hidden Valley, who no doubt had already heard about the arrest through the grapevine, would want to know what was happening. She had told Logan that whatever he said was off the record, but he hadn’t really told her anything except adamantly declaring that he was innocent. That she could print.
When she reached the hallway leading to the reception area, she found Michael leaning against the wall, waiting for her.
“Get what you came for?” His voice was cool, almost suspicious.
“Yes, I did.”
“Care to share?”
“You know I can’t.”
“It’s not like you have client-attorney privilege, Jenessa.”
“What I can tell you is that he is unwavering in his claim that he did not kill Lucy St. John, that the police have arrested the wrong person.”
“Guilty people always say that,” Detective Provenza interjected as he joined them.
“Then my suggestion to you, George, is to keep digging for more evidence so you have an ironclad case. You just might find something that points to someone else.”
“You have someone in particular in mind, young lady?” George asked.
“So, you believe him, Jenessa?” Michael asked.
“I want to. Logan’s a lot of things, but I never thought a murderer was one of them.”
Michael pushed away from the wall. “Maybe your past relationship with him is coloring your judgment.”
“I am trying to keep an open mind. I need to uncover the whole story. Who killed Lucy, how she was killed, and why,” Jenessa said.
“I can tell you how,” Provenza spoke up. “Blunt force trauma to the head. That’s the official cause of death.”
“Can I print that?” she asked.
“I don’t see why not,” George replied. “And you’ll be happy to know I’ve gotten a warrant to search the Alexanders’ lake house.”
Chapter 34
“A search warrant for the lake house?” Jenessa’s eyes lit up. “Can I tag along?” She looked from George to Michael and back.
Michael glowered at her request.
Provenza shrugged. “As long as you take your own car, Miss Jones, I guess it couldn’t hurt. But you’ll need to stay out of our way.”
“But, sir,” Michael butted in, “do you think that’s wise?”
He was obviously trying to protect Detective Provenza, who, in Michael’s opinion, shared too much with Jenessa.
“Baxter, relax. The crime was committed over ten years ago. It’s not like she’s going to walk through blood spatter or smudge any fingerprints. She’ll wear gloves and stand where I tell her to stand.”
“That’s right.” Jenessa grinned at the elder detective.
“Still…” Michael frowned at her.
“And she won’t print anything we might want to hold back from becoming public knowledge, will she?” George glared at Jenessa, asking with his eyes for her agreement.
“Of course not, Detective Provenza.” She was tempted to call him George again, but if she wanted to stay on his good side, she had better refrain.
“All right, I guess I’m outnumbered,” Michael said. “We’ll gather a couple of officers and see you up there, but you’d better watch your lead foot in that pretty little sports car you drive. Officer Ramirez is on duty on that stretch, and he isn’t as likely to let you off with a warning as I was.”
~*~
Michael was right. The beautiful summer day was perfect for a drive up to the lake—lots of sunshine and clear blue skies.
Jenessa carefully stayed within the speed limit until she passed the sign that announced she was leaving the Hidden Valley city limits. She eased the gas pedal down and delighted in the purr of the engine as she rounded the curves. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was going to the Alexanders’ lake house, and the anxiety that fact was building in her chest, not to mention the throbbing pressure it was causing in her head, it would have been a perfectly wonderful drive.
She veered onto the road that led to Jonas Lake. Before she reached the marina, she turned left toward the homes that dotted the perimeter of the shore. It had only been a week since the last time she had taken that particular road, when Charles McAllister had assigned her the story about the body that had been discovered. She breathed in deeply and blew it out, resolved to handle being in or near the Alexanders’ lake house better than she had the last time.
When she reached the stunning waterfront home, there were no other cars there, thanks to her lead foot. After all, the detectives had to round up some help before heading up there.
Jenessa climbed out of her car and walked over to the spot where the remains had been discovered. Crime scene tape was still strung around the site, and construction on the new cabin had apparently been halted until cleared by the authorities.
She ducked under the tape and stood at the edge of the grave. A wave of sadness washed over her for what Ramey had lost. Lucy hadn’t been much of a mother, but Ramey had loved her anyway. Not knowing her mother was dead, Ramey had shared with Jenessa on several occasions how she pretty much felt like an orphan. That feeling was understandable, but could Ramey have known her mother was dead? Is that what really made her feel like an orphan?
Jenessa pushed the thought out of her mind, irritated at herself that she let her imagination run away with her. Sweet Ramey wouldn’t hurt a fly.
Her gaze roved over the crude shallow grave. In her mind, she saw the suspicious unidentified item. Early on, when she’d inquired of her secret contact at the State’s forensic lab about the locket, she’d also asked if they’d found anything else, like a button or a cufflink or something. At the time, the answer was no. Perhaps whatever it was had turned up by now. Jenessa was convinced she had seen something.
She turned at the sound of tires crunching on the dusty asphalt road. The detectives had arrived, followed by a squad car with two
uniformed officers and a third person in the back seat.
Ducking back under the tape, she hurried to meet them. “Hello, boys,” she greeted as Michael and George climbed out of their car.
“Why am I not surprised you’re already here.” Michael flashed her a quick smile, then turned to the officers and the unidentified woman. “Let’s head inside.”
Michael knocked hard on the front door. When no one answered, he tried the knob and found it locked. He pulled his lock-picking set out of his pocket and within seconds he had the door open.
“Why couldn’t you do that on my lap drawer?” Jenessa asked, half kidding. She hadn’t yet told him she had found the hidden key, but now was not the time to go into it.
Michael let Detective Provenza enter first, Jenessa close on the man’s heels. The officers and the woman followed after Michael.
“Who’s that?” Jenessa asked Michael in a low voice, motioning with her thumb toward the other woman.
“That’s Libby from the county crime lab. Lucky for us she was in town on other business or we’d still be waiting for her.”
Jenessa looked around the living room as the others fanned out, searching through the house. Most everything was as it had been twelve years ago, everything except for a new white slipcover on the sofa, the coffee table, and the area rug under it. In her mind, she saw herself and Logan, lying down on the rug that covered the hardwood floors, talking and eating ice cream the night he had brought her there. At seeing this place again, something gripped her insides, an anxiety she wasn’t familiar with. It was the very spot she had given herself to Logan.
Michael must have noticed the pained expression on her face. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”
She nodded, but she wasn’t about to let on what she was thinking.
“Anything different from how you remembered it?”
“The rug. It was years ago, but when I was here, it had been a light blue-and-white pattern with small flowers in the border, but now it’s this tan sisal. And the coffee table. It had been one of those natural slabs of burl wood with a thick resin finish—you know the kind—instead of this rectangular pine one.”
The Lake House Secret, A Romantic Suspense Novel (A Jenessa Jones Mystery) Page 19