Killer Moves: The 4th Jolene Jackson Mystery (Jolene Jackson Mysteries)

by Paula Boyd

  A rumble behind us blocked out whatever he was going to say next as a drill rig, followed by a white extended cab pickup with yellow clearance lights and big poles extended above the roof, pulled up. I recognized both. I couldn’t imagine how Gilbert Moore had recovered enough from his gunshot wound to be onsite, but it sure looked like he was—or at least his truck was.

  Seeing Waverman headed over to get the drillers moving, I knew it was my time to exit. I had learned everything I wanted to for the moment—maybe forever—so I climbed back in the Tahoe and tossed the binder in the passenger seat. “Environmental, Health and Safety Manual, my ass. If there’s anything in there I need to know, the good doctor can tell me about it himself. I have bigger fish to fry.”

  I started the car then checked my phone. I had a missed call and a voicemail from Melody. I didn’t bother checking the message and dialed.

  Melody picked up on the first ring. “She’s coming over here!” she said, her words coming out in a panicked rush. “Nurse Linda just called to say she’s coming here. In just a few minutes. She said she has to do some final evaluations on Mom and to get signatures on the paperwork. I told them I would go to their office today and do that, but now here she is. I don’t like it, Jolene. It doesn’t feel right.”

  No, it didn’t. “What are you going to do?”

  “She said if we didn’t comply, she’d be obligated by law to turn us in to Social Services for endangerment of a senior. I understand they have rules, and I suppose what I did could be considered not in her best interests by others, but it really felt like she was threatening me!”

  “This is not good. Options...options….” I paused, my mind running in a thousand different directions, including all the places I needed to be simultaneously. Amazing how our priorities can instantly be rearranged for us. “You may have to sign the papers, but you don’t have to be alone. I can head that way right now.”

  “No, I think I can play dumb and just sign the papers. She won’t be able to do anything to Mother with me watching. But I know she’ll be back. I just know it.”

  “And you can’t be there.”

  “I know. I’m going to have to take Mother somewhere else. I could take her to my condo in Dallas, but it isn’t ideal. It’s upstairs and doesn’t have a walk-in shower, but that’s not even the biggest concern. She’s just not doing well. I don’t know what’s happened. She’s not strong like your mother, Jolene, and I suppose this whole situation has just worn her out. I think I need to give her a day or two to rest before I try to make the trip.”

  “Well, speaking of Lucille, there’s no reason you can’t stay at her house in Kickapoo.” Melody started to protest, saying she had already planned to go to a hotel in Redwater, but I stopped her. “Actually,” I said, looking up the hill. “I just had another idea. It will be better than a hotel and no one could find you there. Let me check it out and I’ll call you back. Either way, be packed and ready to leave as soon as Linda is gone.”

  I hung up the phone, grabbed my wallet and pulled out Clovis Stovall’s card. He answered on the third ring, and since caller ID had alerted him to who was calling, we skipped right to the point. “What can I do for you, Miz Jackson?”

  “As you probably know, I’m moving in today.”

  “Grant said you’d be here at eleven.”

  I wondered yet again why in the hell I had to explain anything or ask permission to visit my own property from people paid to work there. “Well, we’re going to need to move that up a bit. I’m finishing up here at the project site and I’ll be headed up the hill in just a few minutes.”

  There was a long pause then he said, “Meet me at the back door.” And then he hung up.

  I stared down at the phone, wanting very badly to call Jerry and tell him how fabulously my day was already going and it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. I wasn’t going to, but I wanted to. Then, as I stared at the phone, his face popped up on the screen. “Oh, shit, how’d I do that!” After a few seconds of staring, I realized I hadn’t done it—he was calling me. “Hello?”

  “Hey, honey,” Jerry said in that deep low drawl that I love. “I just called to see how you’re doing.”

  “Oh, well, you know, just another day at the office.” I managed a fake little chuckle. “Have you heard anything from Travis?”

  “Yes. He called in some favors and should have something to tell us this afternoon.”

  “That’s good, because I just talked to Melody and there’s a nurse headed to her mother’s house right now to make her sign paperwork about leaving.”

  “That makes sense, I suppose.”

  “Yeah, kind of, except that the nurse taking care of things is the same one who drew the blood and she’s threatening to call Social Services if Melody doesn’t do what she says.”

  “What county does she live in?

  I knew where Mr. Sheriff was headed with that, but it wasn’t going to help. “I don’t know where she is, and even if you could send someone, Melody’s planning to have her mother packed up and out of there before then. And I know we can’t call the Redwater Police Department either. There’s no evidence of any wrongdoing—except, of course, mine—so what are they going to do? And, I figure you’d prefer to avoid another compromising professional situation.”

  ”Things don’t always work out the way I prefer,” Jerry said.

  Yeah, well, ditto here. “I told Melody she could take her mom to Lucille’s for the time being. But then, if we take Lucille there too, odds are good that it won’t be safe anymore. I don’t have specific reasons for that, but history says Lucille will create them.”

  “Probably doing so as we speak,” he said, “which is why I asked Fritz to go stay with her. He was reluctant since she’d forbidden him to ever step foot in her room again until he was invited.”

  “Let me guess, she didn’t want him seeing her less than perfect.”

  “Something like that,” Jerry said. “He should be there by now and I told him we’d be by after three when we finish at the morgue.”

  “That doesn’t give me much time.”

  Jerry paused then said, “Do I dare ask time for what?”

  “Well, I’m just now leaving the jobsite, which looks like a command center for a hostage situation, which I suppose it kind of is—mine. The good news is that Waverman saw the light, or at least dollar signs, and agreed to my changes in the contract. Gilbert Moore is onsite with his healing shoulder and drill rig ready to start work. I have to go tour the house on the hill with my friendly ranch manager Clove to see what options I have for turning the place into a temporary geriatric rehab center. Then it’s back to Mother’s to load up my stuff so I can meet the attorney at eleven to prove I’m moving in today as required by the occupancy clause I failed to read. Then, provided I’m still upright and reasonably sane, I will meet you at the morgue. Aren’t you glad you asked?”

  Jerry’s silence indicated he was not. Finally, he said, “What can I do to help right now?”

  “You’ve already done it, Jerry.” I smiled and hoped he could feel it through the phone. “You called and you listened.”

  In spite of the rapid-fire deterioration of our hopes and dreams for a peaceful day, evening and probably life together, I felt like the luckiest woman in the world to have such a man in my life. I told him exactly that, then hung up.

  Looking around the area one last time, I saw Gilbert Moore standing beside his truck, leaning on the fender, talking to Waverman.

  Taller than your average pro basketball player and padded with plenty of muscle and bulk, Gilbert was an imposing figure. He wore his usual plain tee-shirt and jeans, and today his heavy work boots were caked in red dirt. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes and his trademark ponytail hung down his back—a personal statement of something, although what, I couldn’t fathom. He was going for a casual pose, but I suspected that pain was actually calling the shots.

  Part of me wanted to tell him to get himself home and rest so he wouldn�
�t die, but the wiser part of me kept my nose out of what wasn’t my business. Yes, it seemed strange to me too—and I didn’t expect this new wise woman thing would actually stick—but not taking responsibility for others’ poor choices felt good for a change. Besides, I had my own poor choices to deal with. Taking a deep breath, I put the Tahoe in gear and headed out to meet Clove.

  Chapter 13

  By the time I made it up the hill and around to the back of The Big House, I’d come up with a strategy for dealing with Clove—tears. Oh, it wasn’t intentional, I assure you. But halfway up, a gnarly ball of emotions had surfaced and I was about one little blink away from a serious sob-fest. Not a good place to be at any time, and especially not now when I had to establish myself as lord of the manor, or whatever.

  I pulled up in front of the double garage doors on the left and turned off the car. The back of the house, which actually looked like another front, had huge glass windows and patio doors running the length of both levels. The upper floor had a deck that provided a covered area for the lower. There were lots of hanging and potted plants with colorful flowers everywhere. Today, the pool and waterfall looked even bigger than they had yesterday, and to my far right, I noticed a separate water area that had water shooting up out of a bronze fish statue.

  Then, I realized that two people were coming out the door toward me—a frowning Clove and a smiling woman in an ankle-length denim skirt, white blouse, sensible shoes and a puffy-bun hairdo. I try really hard not to judge—yes, really I do—but stereotypes were created for a reason and all I could see before me was religious zealot Ethel Fossy—AKA Bony Butt—in a different uniform coming to attack me. “Oh, God, please let me be wrong,” I said, swallowing down another surge of emotion. “I can’t take any more of that.”

  Grabbing a napkin, I gave my face a quick swipe. “You can do this, Jolene, you can, now suck it up and do it.” I took a deep breath and stepped out of the truck, then walked around the pool toward them.

  As I closed the distance, I could see that Clove’s narrowed eyes were locked on me in an unhappy glare. No big shock there, but as he opened his mouth to say something, the woman stepped in front of him and hurried toward me.

  Clasping my hand, she said, “I’m Clove’s wife Emmajean. We have everything all ready for you. This place has been needing some new life for a long time and we’re just so glad you’re here.”

  “Thank you,” I said, sincerely.

  Emmajean looked to be a little younger than Clove, somewhere in her sixties. “I took care of the cooking, shopping, cleaning and laundry for Mister Bob,” she said. “I’m here to do the same for you if you want me to.” She smiled and waved toward the house. “Come on inside and I’ll fix you a nice cup of hot tea and let you rest for a minute. I know this is all overwhelming for you and there’s no need to get in a rush about anything.”

  Emmajean’s kind, gracious and genuinely caring were tempting tears to well up again, but I managed to say, “Tea would be great,” and let her lead me inside the house.

  As the door closed behind me and my eyes adjusted to the light, I was stunned at the view that came into focus. A huge and elegantly furnished area with ten-foot ceilings spread out before me. I felt like I’d stepped into a magazine photo. The style was traditional yet modern, classy yet homey, with rich wood, warm tones and welcoming furniture. The style was similar to what I had in my own home in Colorado, only this was obviously professionally decorated, about twice as big and new. Okay, not really like mine at all.

  To my left, kitchen cabinets than ran the length of the patio wall for about fifteen feet then turned right and ran about the same distance. A massive island with a second prep sink and bar seating anchored the area. Stainless steel, sparkling granite, a gas cook top, double ovens and sophisticated lighting completed the look.

  “There’s quite a lot to take in,” Emmajean said, guiding me to the right into the living area. “Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time explore.”

  I didn’t know about that, but just what I could see now was pretty spectacular. A white stacked-stone fireplace and built-in wood cabinetry covered the wall on my right. A leather sectional sofa situated directly across from it defined the area. Two complementing chairs covered in modern geometric patterns with table and lamp in between stood near the windows to the patio.

  I sat in the first chair and discovered it was both a rocker and a recliner. Plush and cozy and just perfect for my size. It would be a very nice spot to relax if relaxing ever became an option for me. A table with a lamp stood between the chairs, providing a perfect spot for a cup of tea and a good book.

  Clove stepped in front of me and put his hands on his hips. “What was wrong when you pulled up out there? Did Doctor Dickhead do something? Because if he did, I’ll go down there right now and kick his ass.”

  “Clovis Stovall,” Emmajean said firmly from the kitchen behind me. “You’ll not speak that way in front of Miss Jolene.”

  “Now, Em, honey,” he said, his gruff voice becoming silky smooth. “These are things I need to know about.”

  Emmajean appeared behind me and set a large steaming mug on a coaster on the small table then settled herself in the other chair. “It’s jasmine tea and there’s a hot water dispenser at the sink for whenever you want a cup.”

  “What happened?” Clove asked again. “What’d Waverman do?”

  “Nothing,” I said, shaking my head and reaching for the tea. I held the cup under my nose, breathing in the fresh flowery scent. “He’s agreed to my terms so that’s taken care of.”

  “Fat chance,” Clove snorted. “But if it wasn’t Waverman, then what was it? What’s got you in a state? I want to know what’s going on.”

  “Now, Clovis,” Emmajean said. “Quit being so pushy. Miss Jolene doesn’t have to tell you anything.”

  No, I didn’t, but I would. “The truth is that this situation has turned my world upside down and it’s pretty overwhelming for me on just about every level. I didn’t even know until late yesterday that I had to be moved in here by today.”

  “Well,” Emmajean said, “we’re all ready for you. You are all set up with whatever you need. You don’t even have to bring a toothbrush or shampoo.”

  “That’s really nice. Thank you.”

  “Just part of the deal,” Clove said. “So is getting whatever you want to bring up here from your mother’s house. I’ve got a trailer already hooked up and ready to go. The sooner we get it done, the better.”

  “He’s probably right, dear,” Emma said. “I know you’re exhausted, but the sooner you get up here and get settled in, the easier it’s going to be on you.”

  “Nothing’s going to be easy.” I twisted my hands around the mug. “And I am really sorry to have to do this, believe me, but I’m going to have to bring my mother here.”

  “What!” Clove said.

  “How can that be?” Emmajean whispered.

  I was a little taken aback by their response, but not really surprised. Everyone knows Lucille. “You know she broke her hip a few weeks ago.”

  “Yeah, we know,” Clove said. “And it seems to me she shouldn’t be let out yet.”

  “Yes, well, things happened.” They were both eyeing me warily, so I said, “She’s Lucille.”

  “We know,” Clove said. “We’ve had a front row seat for years.”

  I supposed they had. “Then let’s jump to the bottom line. Because of circumstances involving my mother, I am helping a woman and her elderly mother who also had a situation at the rehab center. I was going to take them to Mother’s this morning, but since she’s coming home this afternoon and I have to be here…”

  “Of course they need to come here,” Emmajean said.

  Clove grumbled. “I want the whole story.”

  “I am not happy about starting things out this way, but bringing them here seems like the best option, considering.”

  “Considering what?”

  “It will be a nice change to
have people around again!” Emmajean said, interrupting her husband. “Let’s go take a look at the guest bedrooms and see what you think we need to do.”

  “Thank you, Emmajean,” I said, smiling. “You too, Clove. Whatever help you can give will be greatly appreciated and you most assuredly will be well compensated for it.”

  “We are well paid, dear, but if it becomes an issue, we will let you know.”

  “Thank you.” I grabbed my phone. “I better call Melody and tell her to head this way.”

  “You’ll have to move over by the door to get a signal,” Emmajean said. “All the beds have fresh sheets, so I’ll just make sure everything else is in order. Each bedroom has a chair that pulls out for a sleeper, so that’s all taken care of as well.”

  “Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “This is truly unreal.”

  “Get used to it,” Clove said, turning and heading for the door.

  I followed him and found a place where I had a good signal and made my call.

  Melody answered on the first ring. “Oh, Carol, I’m so sorry I haven’t called to let you know how Mother’s doing,” she said, sounding very sincere. “Nurse Linda’s still here and we’ve just been so caught up in details with all these papers to sign and things to talk about. But we’re all finished now and Nurse Linda is just leaving, so hold on for me just a second.”

  “Are you okay? Do I need to get you help?”

  Melody forced a laugh. “Oh, no, mother’s doing just fine, just a little tired so she went to lie down while Nurse Linda and I chatted. She’s been so nice even after that unfortunate misunderstanding yesterday. I have to tell you,” she said, pretending to chuckle. “I feel so silly about the whole thing. And do you know, that in spite of all that, Nurse Linda has graciously offered to come back in the morning and check on Mother. Can you believe it?”