The Lake House Secret, A Romantic Suspense Novel (A Jenessa Jones Mystery)

by Debra Burroughs

  “What do you have?” he asked.

  “You already know I spoke to Logan in the jail and did my story on the arraignment, but what you don’t know is that another piece of evidence has been found.”

  “What else?”

  Jenessa glanced at the large windows of The Sweet Spot and saw many eyes on them. She turned her back to the storefront and continued. “What I’m telling you is not for publication—at least not yet. I have a contact in the police department, but I’ve promised this person I won’t print any of the confidential details until I get the go ahead.”

  “Who is your contact?” he asked.

  “I can’t say.”

  “Not even to me?”

  “Sorry, Charlie.”

  “It’s Charles,” he said gruffly. “So tell me, what is the latest?”

  “Some hairs were found with the remains and the State lab has matched it to Logan Alexander. That was one of the reasons they arrested him. But you know DNA results, they really only show the likelihood that it’s a match.”

  “True, but they must think it was close enough to arrest him.”

  “They did. They were also able to get a search warrant for the Alexanders’ lake house, and they discovered blood in some of the floor boards. Detective Provenza sent a piece of the floor to the lab to make sure that it’s Lucy St. John’s.”

  “You can write about that, can’t you?”

  “Yes, and I am, but now another piece of evidence has turned up and the cops are trying to match the DNA from that to see who it belonged to.”

  “Any suspects?”

  “Maybe, but they haven’t made any definite findings yet.” Jenessa couldn’t bring herself to tell him it was probably her own father’s. “However, they have located Lucy St. John’s last known boyfriend and Detectives Provenza and Baxter will be questioning him later today. I’m headed over there to see what I can find out.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got things pretty well under control. Just get something to me by six o’clock today that I can run in tomorrow’s paper. People want to know what’s happening, so they’re tuning into the television news. The newspaper’s only advantage is that we can go more in-depth, so make sure you do that.”

  “I know, I know, Charles. I’ve been in this business long enough to get that. You really should think about having a website for the paper, though.”

  “I’ve proposed that to Grey Alexander on more than one occasion, but he continues to turn me down. Speaking of Mr. Alexander, how is he handling his son being arrested?”

  “Not well. I’ve had a couple of run-ins with him, not including the one at your office.”

  “Best if you steer clear of him, if you can. That man can make a lot of trouble for you—me too.”

  ~*~

  Jenessa stopped by the police station to see if there was any word yet on Tony Hamilton.

  “We’re expecting him by ten,” Detective Provenza said as they stood in the reception area. “You want to stick around and get a peek at him or something?”

  “Actually, I was hoping I could watch the interview from the observation room.”

  “You sure like to push it, don’t you?” He glowered at her. “You know I can’t do that.”

  Michael approached. “Good morning,” he said, directing his words to Jenessa.

  She returned his greeting with a smile.

  “Like I said, Miss Jones,” Provenza began, “I can’t let you anywhere near Hamilton and the interrogation.” He leaned closer to her and dropped his volume. “I’ll give you a call later and let you know if there’s anything you can use in your articles.”

  She nodded. Maybe then she could weasel other information out of him, as well. “And what about the recording?”

  “What recording?” Michael asked.

  George’s gaze flew to Michael for a second, then back to Jenessa. He stuck his hand out. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Jenessa dug the micro-recorder out of her purse and put it firmly in his hand, avoiding Michael’s probing stare. “I got the words sorry and dragged. So if she can get anything else, it might be helpful to the case.”

  Michael must have understood what was transpiring. He took a step closer. “We can’t use that,” he said in a muffled tone.

  Jenessa looked him in the eye. “Maybe not in court, but it might have something useful on it.”

  “George,” Michael said, “this isn’t really the way you do things around here, is it?”

  “Not usually,” he replied. “Normally we don’t have a pretty reporter helping us out.”

  “I mean according to the law.”

  “Cool your jets, son. We’re not breaking any laws,” George responded, “just bending a few. I’ll be retiring before long and I want to go out on a high note—you know, catch the SOB that killed that poor woman.”

  “That’s what I want too, Michael.” Jenessa had to be careful how she handled her contacts within the police department—she needed their help if she was going to write in-depth pieces on the big news stories. She had made inroads with George Provenza, and hopefully Michael would become as helpful as his mentor. “Not to change the subject boys, but what’s happening with the cufflink I gave you, Michael?”

  “It’s already on its way to the State lab in Sacramento. They promised to let me know as soon as they have something.”

  “Tough break,” Provenza said. “Michael gave me the low down on it being your dad’s.”

  Jenessa offered him weak smile. “No matter what, follow the evidence wherever it takes you. Isn’t that right?” Even if it exposes your own father.

  The main doors to the station opened and the chatter of voices drew their attention as a couple of men in tan uniforms entered, ushering in a scruffy, middle-aged convict. He was dressed in the usual prison orange, tall with a thin build and long stringy brown hair that was in desperate need of a wash. It had to be Tony Hamilton, escorted by deputies from the Fresno County Sheriff’s Department.

  Once they got inside, out of the heat, George rushed over to them. “I’m Detective Provenza. We spoke on the phone this morning. Let’s bring your prisoner back to my office and we’ll take care of things there.”

  The deputies nodded their agreement.

  “Miss Jones, I’ll phone you when I have something for you.” Provenza motioned to the Fresno group to follow him down the hallway.

  “But can’t I—” she started to call out after him.

  Michael ran his hand gently down her arm. “Sorry, Jenessa. I’ve got to go too.” He backed away toward the hall. “I’ll call you later.” Then he was gone.

  Disappointed she hadn’t gotten to learn anything from Tony Hamilton, at least not yet, she marched out the doors and back to her car. The obits wouldn’t write themselves, and there was a high school principal to interview while she waited to hear back from the detectives and the lab.

  It was going to be a long day—a very long day.

  ~*~

  Once inside her car, she flipped the air conditioner on full blast. The cufflink was still on her mind. She phoned her aunt to find out how her father might have known Lucy St. John, other than writing monthly checks to her on behalf of Grey Alexander.

  “I can’t really say, dear,” Aunt Renee replied. “She left town so long ago. Why do you ask?”

  Jenessa couldn’t tell her aunt about the cufflink. She’d find out soon enough, but now wasn’t the time. “I’m just trying to fit the puzzle pieces together.”

  “He never liked her—I know that much. She wasn’t much of a mother to Ramey and I remember him saying he was glad she was gone for good.”

  “Gone for good, huh?” How would he know for certain that she was gone for good unless he knew she was dead? “Those were his exact words?”

  “I don’t recall that those were his exact words, but yes, he was glad she was gone and wasn’t ever coming back.”

  Chapter 41

  Later that afternoon, when Jenessa was leaving t
he principal’s office, she received a call from Detective Provenza. He told her that he and Michael had thoroughly questioned Tony Hamilton and that what he’d told them changed the whole ball game.

  “Hamilton said Lucy agreed to go to LA with him because her sugar daddy was cutting her off. Lucy had told him Grey Alexander had been paying her each month to keep quiet about the fact he was Ramey’s father.”

  “Yes, I found the agreement in my father’s desk at home,” Jenessa said.

  “And you didn’t think to show me?”

  “Well, you already knew he had been paying her, so I didn’t think you needed to see it. What else did he say?”

  “When Ramey turned eighteen, Alexander told Lucy he was not going to continue to pay her, that the girl was an adult now and he was done. Lucy went nuts, Hamilton said. However, he was able to calm her down, convincing her to tell Grey if he paid her fifty thousand dollars in cash, she’d continue to keep her mouth shut and disappear, that he’d never hear from her again.”

  “I guess fifty thousand would be less than paying for even one more year at five thousand a month,” Jenessa said. That must have been the fight Logan heard between his father and stepmother. “What else?”

  “Hamilton said Lucy had made plans to meet Grey one night to talk about it.”

  “Did he give you a specific date?” Jenessa asked.

  “He did, but all I can share with you is that it was around the end of June, eleven years ago.”

  “And where was she going to meet him?”

  “The lake house.”

  “No surprise there. So, did he see anything?” Jenessa pressed, hoping for something that would point to the killer.

  “No. He said he dropped her off and then he went to the marina to have a few beers while he gave her some time to talk and get the money. He hung around down there about half an hour or so, maybe more, he couldn’t really remember exactly how long it had been once he got drinking.”

  “Assuming Grey is who she met,” Jenessa said. Maybe he had sent her father to negotiate instead, and things went horribly wrong.

  “You mean like perhaps it was the junior Mr. Alexander?”

  “Uh, yeah, that’s what I meant.” That wasn’t what she meant, but it was a possibility. It could have been Logan, but Jenessa had a sinking feeling it would more likely have been her dad.

  “Logan could have overheard the conversation, I suppose, and went up there ahead of his father to confront the woman,” Provenza said.

  Logan had overheard. He had told her as much. So why was she reluctant to share that?

  “Didn’t Hamilton go back to get Lucy?” she asked.

  “She was supposed to call him on his cell. When he hadn’t heard from her after a while, he drove back to check on her. But when he got there, the house was dark and there were no cars there. He said he assumed she had gotten a ride back to town with Alexander because he had taken so long to return for her.”

  “What did he do then?”

  “He drove to Lucy’s house, but she wasn’t there. He drove around town for a while, looking for her, but nothing. Said he wondered at the time if Alexander decided to make his problem go away rather than pay up.”

  “And the guy didn’t think to report it?”

  “That’s what I asked,” George said. “He claimed he was half drunk and who was going to believe a drunken drifter over the most powerful man in town? If something had happened to Lucy he didn’t want to get pegged with it. So he got out of town as fast as he could and high-tailed it back to LA. He never heard from Lucy again after that.”

  “What a friend,” Jenessa said sarcastically. “So, what is your gut telling you, George?”

  “That any one of them could have done it—Tony, Grey, or Logan.”

  Or my father. “Do you think the lab might have made a mistake?” she asked. “Could the DNA from the hair on the comb have also been a close enough match to Grey Alexander? You know, what they call a familial match?”

  “That is a possibility. I’ll have Baxter check that out.”

  “I know Grey Alexander is a self-centered SOB, but do you think he would really let his own son go to prison for something that he did, knowing Logan was innocent?”

  “Well, I’d have to agree, he is a pretty cold-hearted man, Jenessa, but no, I wouldn’t think so. Although,” Provenza paused, “I could see him putting Logan through the trial, believing his high-priced attorneys could get him off. If Johnny Cochran could get OJ off, a top-notch attorney like the kind Grey has the money to hire could very likely get Logan off too. Then neither of them would have to go to prison. That could be what the elder Alexander is counting on.”

  “Why don’t you at least try to find out? Let’s put the screws to that ogre and see if he hollers.”

  “The screws? What do you mean?”

  “Oh, you know, George…apply some pressure to him, put the squeeze on him, see if he squeals.”

  Provenza chuckled. “You’ve been watching too many crime shows.”

  “With Tony Hamilton’s testimony that Lucy had made plans to meet Grey, and then Tony never heard from her again, couldn’t you tell Mr. Alexander you have a witness that can confirm he was with Lucy right before she died and that he is willing to point to Grey as the killer?”

  “Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that.” Provenza paused, as if he was thinking it through. “I don’t mean to sound like a bozo, but we just don’t get many murders in this town, not like in Sacramento.”

  “You’re not a bozo, George. Here, try this—drag him in and ask him if he really wants to send his son to prison for the rest of his life for something he did. Lay a heavy guilt trip on him. See how he reacts. Maybe you could offer to drop the charges against his son if he confesses to what really happened. Imply it could have even been an accident and if he admits to it, the jury would be sympathetic or something. Let him think he has a possible out and maybe he’ll confess.”

  “Hey, that’s a good idea,” Provenza agreed. “I’ll have to bring someone from the District Attorney’s office in on it, but it might work.”

  Jenessa’s phone began to buzz in her hand. “Hey, George, I’ve got another call. Let me know how it goes.”

  She clicked off one call and onto the next. “Hello, this is Jenessa.”

  “This is Ian McCaffrey. I need to see you. Do you have time to drop by my office later this afternoon? Say around four?”

  She checked her watch. “I think I can make it then. What’s this about?”

  “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

  ~*~

  Jenessa arrived home and got busy writing the obits and the story about the high school students and their beloved auditorium.

  Half an hour later, Michael phoned her. “Detective Provenza filled me in on your conversation and I’ve got to say it was a clever idea.”

  “Glad I could help,” she said.

  “Provenza got Deputy District Attorney Rodriguez to call Mr. Alexander and ask him to come down to the station to talk, that there had been some new developments in Logan’s case. Of course, Alexander said he’d be there right away, and he’d be bringing his lawyers.”

  “I hope the DDA didn’t give anything away.”

  “No, he was pretty coy,” Michael said. “They should all be here soon.”

  A smile of delight spread on her lips. “I wish I could see the interrogation.” Would Michael pick up the hint she just dropped? “You do have an observation room, don’t you?”

  “We do, but I don’t think the Captain would go for that.”

  “Hey, it was my idea, Detective. Besides, would the Captain have to know?”

  Michael avoided the question. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Jenessa grabbed her purse and dashed to her car. The obits were finished and she’d emailed them off, but the auditorium story still needed a little more polish. It would have to wait, though—there was no way she was going to miss out on this interview.

  ~*~
>
  Once Jenessa had slid behind the wheel, she glanced at the clock in the dash. It was going on four o’clock and she had promised her father’s law partner she’d meet him at four. Maybe she could make it quick. He probably just wanted her to sign some probate documents.

  There was no way for her to know how long it would take Grey Alexander to round up his attorneys and get down to the police station. Hopefully she had time to check in with Mr. McCaffrey and then scoot over to the police station before she missed all the action.

  She entered the building where the law firm was and took the elevator up to their floor. The receptionist buzzed Mr. McCaffrey’s assistant, who escorted her into his office.

  “Jenessa, it’s nice to see you.” He offered his hand and she shook it. “Have a seat.”

  She perched on the edge of one of the club chairs across from his desk. “I can’t stay long. Why did you want to see me?”

  “We’ll get right to it then.” He pulled a small, flat package out of a drawer and set it on his desk.

  Jenessa studied it with curiosity. It was about the size of a small book or maybe a framed photo she guessed, but it must have been private because it was wrapped in plastic with a wax seal on it.

  “In your father’s Will, there were instructions from him that I give this to you after his passing, within a week after the reading of the Will. No one but you is supposed to open it.”

  Now she really was curious. “What is it?”

  He handed it across his desk. “Open it.”

  She ripped the plastic off, breaking the seal, then lifted the cover to the box. “It’s a DVD.” She looked up at Mr. McCaffrey. “Did you know what it was?”

  He shrugged noncommittally and then rose from his seat to come around from behind the desk. “Your father’s instructions said to have you watch this DVD here in my office. Shall we?” He gestured toward the other end of his office to a conference table and a television mounted on the wall.

  Jenessa stood and followed, her stomach twisting with anticipation of what she was about to see. Whatever it was, she couldn’t figure out why it was for her alone.

  He put his hand out. “Let me put it in the DVR and get it set up for you.”