“That is very thoughtful of her.”
“Yes, Lord,” he said. “She’s got the heart of a servant. And can cook, too.” He pulled the chair out for me, and I sat.
“Thank you, Mr. Thunder.”
He inclined toward me. “Now, you call me Zeke, sissy.”
“Zeke,” I said as I scooted my chair up to the table. That seemed to satisfy him and irritate his wife. I gave him an extra big smile just to annoy her.
Sitting with all of the adult players—Sister Lou being the exception—gave me a chance to play Columbo. I’d have to play it cool, as my television hero would. I didn’t know if I could pull it off with the finesse of the master detective, who never seemed to get beat up, like I always did.
I’d already established a rapport with Ezekiel and Joy. They’d been generous with information. Joy spoke to me out of her grief. And though, I suspected, Ezekiel knew my questions went beyond mere morbid curiosity, he still spoke freely. And that made me wonder if he, on some level, wanted someone to dig for answers to the troubling questions that had to be eating at him and Joy. I wondered if I could make him an ally in this investigation, and if so, how?
A pitcher of water sat in front of Ezekiel. “Can you please pass me the water, Zeke?” While I was all for staying hydrated, I really didn’t need the water at the moment, nor did I need something to make me have to go to the bathroom more than the twins already demanded. I wanted to see if he would serve me.
Ezekiel didn’t disappoint. He did exactly as I thought a Southern gentleman would. He stood, picked up the pitcher, and came to my side of the table to pour me a drink.
“I certainly appreciate your chivalry,” I said. I tried to put on an air of being a Northern belle—pun intended.
Ezekiel responded with predictable charm. He flashed the veneers. “Darlin’, I’m always happy to serve a pretty woman.”
I looked at Nikki. “Wow,” I said. “I can see why you snagged this one. Did he turn on the charm like that for you?”
Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He’s like that with all the ladies.” She didn’t seem to care.
“My husband is the same way,” I said. “Women practically throw themselves at him to get his attention. It drives me crazy.” I wagged my finger at her. “But you, Nikki, you don’t seem to care one whit about your husband’s flirtatious ways. That amazes me. You must be so secure in his love that you know he’ll never stray.”
She looked me right in the eyes. “Unlike some women who are obviously insecure and don’t know what to do with the man they have, I don’t have anything to worry about.”
Oh, she wanted to spar? She had no idea who she was dealing with.
“That’s true. You’re young. Good-looking. You could easily have a man your own age, but you’re with a man who’s probably older than your own father. He must have had something you really wanted.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but I kept talking.
“The moment I saw Jazz—and come on, look at him!—I thought he was the finest thing I’d ever laid eyes on. Then he smiled, and my goodness, I was a goner.” I took a sip of water. “I so enjoy hearing love stories, especially about how a relationship started. What was it about Ezekiel that captivated you?”
Poor innocent Elisa chimed in. “Yeah, tell us how you knew he was the one.”
Since I’d lived in the house before, I knew that if I spoke loud enough, Joy would hear me from the kitchen, and I certainly didn’t miss the ball on that. Joy charged into the dining room with three plates and set one in front of Ezekiel, skipped Nikki, and set the other two in front of Elisa and me. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from chuckling at Sister Joy’s obvious diss.
“Sister Joy,” I said. “Hurry back with Nikki’s plate. She was about to tell us how she and Ezekiel fell in love.”
She harrumphed. “That I’d like to hear.”
I shook my head in amazement. Looked at Ezekiel. “Joy is an absolute delight, isn’t she? Hospitable. Loyal. Kind. She told me she’s been with you for a long time.”
“She’s the salt of the earth, darlin’,” he said. I’m sure that sounded like fingernails screeching across a blackboard to Nikki. “She’s one of the best people I’ve ever known.”
“She told me she and your wife Toni were good friends.”
“They sure were. ’Course Toni was just like her.”
“Must have broken her heart when Toni died.”
“It was very hard for her to accept.”
Joy made it back to the table carrying two plates and slammed Nikki’s in front of her. She moved around the table to an empty chair.
Ezekiel rose from his seat, and headed over to Joy, pulled the chair out from the table, and waited as she eased herself into the chair. He spoke kindly to her. “This looks absolutely delicious, sissy.”
She glanced up at him shyly, clearly affected by him. “Thank you, Ezekiel.”
Then I saw it. Just a moment, but a moment. They exchanged glances, and what passed between them was so subtle that you’d have to be rather astute to catch it. He loved her, too! In that way!
Poor Ezekiel. He’d chosen the wrong woman to marry. I thought about what Joy had told me. Once they’d shared a kiss. She’d followed him throughout most of his ministry, throughout most of his life. Yet they remained star-crossed lovers, even though she would have been the obvious best choice as a spouse for him after his first wife’s death. Maybe she didn’t take his garbage. Good for her, but it was kinda sad, too.
Then again, how many men could resist a seventeen-year-old hottie coming after him?
I needed to find out his financial particulars. Five years ago, he and Toni had enough to offer a wayward teen assistance, but how much would that be? She’d lived with them. Seemed to me that she’d have to earn her keep, and they perhaps gave her money for incidentals. Those books he wrote couldn’t bring in a lot of money, so it seemed unlikely she wanted him for money. What had she wanted? Why did she stay five years with him?
Lord, keep revealing everything Jazz and I need to know. Give me some sign that I’m on the right track here. I need wisdom, Jesus. Please provide it.
Nikki cleared her throat. “I’m going to pray over the food.”
We all bowed our heads. I didn’t close my eyes, however. My great-grandmother used to say, “Baby, Jesus said, watch and pray—sometime you got to pray with yo’ eyes wide open.” I always thought that sounded a little paranoid. But the older I got, the more I realized how wise Ma Brown was.
What I noticed? Nikki Thunder kept her eyes open, too. She said all the appropriate words. Her voice rose and fell in just the right Pentecostal rhythm, but as she prayed, she watched me intently, shooting daggers at me with her cold gaze. I had the distinct feeling she hadn’t quite figured out what I was about. Was I the inferior female whose alpha male she thought she could effortlessly lure away? Or was I a shrewd adversary, one who could take her?
She said, “Amen,” and everyone began to eat.
I took a bite of the grilled chicken wrap Joy had prepared. She’d marinated the chicken with a delicate blend of herbs and a robust rosemary infusion. I think the babies danced with joy inside me. I couldn’t wait to dig into the spinach and mandarin orange salad she’d prepared as a side. After I complimented Joy on her culinary delights, I fixed my attention back on Nikki Thunder.
“Nikki, you didn’t finish telling us what made you fall in love with Ezekiel.”
She gave me an indulgent smile, as if I were a child that she had to be patient with. “I think it’s obvious.” She looked at Ezekiel, maybe to bail her out of this conversation.
I waved away that lame response. “Aw, come now, don’t be shy. We want details.”
Ezekiel cocked his head to the side and gave her a sexy gaze. “You don’t have to tell me. I already know what got us together, sweetheart.”
“I’m sure you do, Daddy.” She sounded like Ginger on Gilligan’s Island.
Joy didn’t hide her disdain. “Yes, girl. Tell us about the magic.”
Nikki must have sized us up and judged us both as inferior females. She leaned forward in her seat, knowing she had our full attention. “I really don’t want to share something that personal. I’m a pretty private person.”
“I am so sorry.” I touched my hand to my heart. “I’m a psychologist. I get so used to asking personal questions that they come flying out of me. Please forgive me.”
She didn’t say anything; stabbed at a piece of spinach that refused to be impaled by her fork. She finally discarded the leaf for a mandarin orange. The rest of us ate in silence until Ezekiel came to my rescue.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think Bell meant any harm.”
She put down her fork and placed her hand boldly on his thigh. She inclined her body toward him, revealing her ample cleavage, which he did not miss. “I know, Daddy. I’m fine.”
“I think you’re an amazing woman,” I said. “I mean, here you are, this private, reserved person, and yet, yesterday at the funeral, you shared the most intimate details of the terrible tragedies you suffered with, what?, three-hundred people, not to mention the viewing audience.”
Ezekiel beamed. “Folks were so impressed with my girl that she’s been asked to share her testimony on the Good News Network.”
“Wow,” I said. “That show has an audience of millions. That’s what I mean.” I gestured toward her. “When most women would be too devastated to say anything at their baby’s funeral, Nikki shares her story with millions. She stole the show, so to speak. That’s a whole lot of attention for such a private person.”
Ezekiel looked uncomfortable now. “And did you hear that anointed exhortation she gave?”
“I heard it. Gave me chills.” I rubbed my arms to prove it. “Honestly. I had a physical reaction in my gut.”
“I think she may be the next famous preacher in the Thunder family.”
A broad grin spread across her face.
Shazam!
She was a Joyce Meyer wannabe, and she wanted to relegate has-been Thunder to the back pew.
I placed my elbow on the table and leaned toward Nikki. “Nikki Thunder,” I said. “I have no doubt in my mind you are going to be famous. If you think people are talking about you now, you just wait. You’re going to be unforgettable.”
She sat back, a satisfied expression on her smug face. I again became inferior in her eyes. But I hadn’t finished with her.
“In fact, let me just say, I don’t know how you did it, all those tragic accidents in your life, but I’m determined to know. How did Nikki Thunder do it! You know, Nikki? I’m going to figure it out, because the things that happened to you don’t just happen to people. It’s amazing. I’m going to make it my personal mission in life to figure out what makes you the unbelievable woman you are. You can count on that.”
Score one for Bell.
Nikki lifted her chin, and in that maddening manner she had of looking down on me, no matter what position she was in, she smiled and said, “Why thank you, Amanda. But I’m nothing special. Accidents can happen to anybody. They could even happen to someone you love. You have to be very careful—much more careful than I was, God help you.”
Was that a threat?
Yeah, it was. One I wouldn’t take lightly.
After lunch I retreated to my room. I plopped down on the bed I hadn’t made yet. I still felt tired, and I had a lot to think about. Jazz stuff, Nikki Thunder stuff, my Dream. So she understood my threat and made one of her own. And I couldn’t help being concerned about Zekia and little Zeke. It was well after one o’clock in the afternoon, and neither had come down from their bedrooms. My paranoia began to devise all kinds of diabolical schemes Nikki Thunder could have executed—no pun intended—to hurt them. But she wouldn’t just go on a spree, killing all kinds of people. Not with her in the spotlight now. Would she?
I needed to talk to Jazz. I wasn’t sure how to proceed from here. He always tempered my wild ideations with his wisdom and experience.
You need his strength.
Man! People say God comforts you, but He seems to be adept at disturbing me.
I’d steeled myself for the little chat God seemed to want to have with me when I was saved by the bell. My cell phone rang. I’d kept it with me more than I usually did, hoping that Jazz would call me, even if it meant we’d end up screaming at each other. How pathetic was I?
I picked up the phone and flipped it open. Jazz’s cell phone number appeared on the screen. My heart did an Irish clog dance.
“Hello,” I said, trying to hide my enthusiasm. I was supposed to be playing hard to get.
“Hello,” he said. I could tell he was trying to play it cool, too. “My name is Jazz Brown, and I’m a homicide detective. May I speak to Jane?”
I tried to keep from laughing. “Jane?”
“Yes, please.”
I wasn’t quite sure how to answer him. Several possibilities existed. I settled on “Which one?”
He paused. I could imagine him grinning with that brilliant smile of his. “How many are there?” he asked.
“Three that I know of.”
“Do tell.”
I reclined on the pillow. This was going to be fun. “There’s psychologist Jane.”
“She sounds smart.”
“Yeah,” I quipped. “She’s overwhelmed with phone calls from Mensa. But I find her boring and prosaic.”
“Tell me about the other Janes.”
“Well there’s the sexy come-hither Jane.”
“Now she sounds intriguing. Can I speak to her?”
“I’m afraid she is unavailable.”
He laughed. “Score one for the Jane who answered the phone.”
“That leaves only one more Jane,” I said.
“That you know of. Which one is she?”
“Full-time wife and mother Jane.”
He sighed. “I think I like that one best. But you missed one.”
“I did?”
“Yes.”
I scanned my mind’s archives, riffling through all our Jane discussions. I couldn’t think of a single other one. “You’ve got me, detective. Which Jane would you like to speak to?”
“My partner, private investigator Jane.”
I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. “This is she speaking.”
A boisterous round of laughter burst out of him, so infectious that I laughed along with him. It felt so good to be happy with Jazz, even if it was for a few minutes of silly conversation. “I’m calling to see if you’ve got anything, PI Jane.”
“I’ve got a lot, Jazz.”
“Are we still talking about the case?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter. I want to tell you what I discovered at the funeral. I also had lunch today with the adults in Thunder’s camp. I made some interesting observations.”
“Jane?” I could hear the apprehension in his voice.
I didn’t know what he’d say. I didn’t feel ready to resume our marital drama. It felt so much safer to just deal with the case.
Safer?
I sighed. “What is it, Jazz?”
“I think we really need to talk more about the case. I’m serious now.”
“Okay.”
“May I please pick you up and take you out for coffee?”
I didn’t want to answer too soon. I didn’t feel ready to be with him, even though I yearned to. But time was ticking away, and we needed to get enough on Nikki so the police would take another look at her.
When I’d left Louella at the hospital, she was alternating between incoherent babbling and hysteria. Most likely she’d be there at least three days, until they scheduled a hearing for her, where her doctors would decide if she could be released. I had no idea how long the Thunders planned to stay at the Rock House
house now. As it was, I’d caught a break when Ezekiel decided to bury his son in a family plot in a Detroit cemetery. I hoped they’d be around a little longer.
Jazz must have taken my hesitation for lack of interest. “I just want to talk about the case, Jane.”
“How long are you going to call me Jane?”
He hesitated. “I miss my Bell very much. But you’re a lot easier to talk to right now. Bell and I keep bumping heads. Once I told her that I wouldn’t push her to do anything she wasn’t ready for, but you know what, Jane?”
“What?”
“I did push her. I pushed her right away from me. And I can’t lose my Bell. I’d die for that woman.” He chuckled softly. “I can’t live with her, but I’d die for her.”
“I think she’d rather you live with her.”
He snorted. “Not if you saw her reaction when I moved in. So what do you say, Jane? Can we talk about the case? I’ll even let you have a small latte.”
“Let me?”
“You are pregnant, private investigator Jane.”
“If you put it that way. I’ll see you in a half hour, detective.”
“I’ll see you in fifteen minutes, Jane.”
I was waiting at the door with my coat on fifteen minutes later.
Score one for Jazz.
chapter twenty
I FELT LIKE AN OVERPROTECTED TEENAGER having to explain to my dad that I’d be a good girl when I went out on a date with the bad boy. Rocky didn’t look convinced.
He stood by the door with me, arms crossed, tapping one Birkenstock-clad foot on the floor.
“I won’t be more than an hour or two.”
“Babe, I thought I told you to play hard to get.”
I couldn’t very well let him know Jazz and I were plotting to take down the evil wife of his godfather.
“He needs some forensic psychologist insight into a case he’s working on.” That happened to be true. Fortunately, Rocky bought it. “I promise I’ll be good.”
His puppy eyes regarded me warily.
“And I won’t go home with him.”
“Babe.”
“Really, Rock. I’m not in a hurry to go there without counseling, spiritual direction, a guru, an angelic visitation, burning bushes, disembodied hands writing on the wall…”
Deadly Charm Page 24