The Body in the Gravel Read online

  “Most old houses have small kitchens,” Jazzi said. “Rich people hired cooks, and average people waited for the wife to put food on the table.”

  “Where’s the fun in that? I like cooking with you.” Ansel scooped more tiles into their trash container.

  Jerod stopped to wipe sweat off his forehead. The house was cool, but they were working hard. “I’m glad times have changed. If I help Franny make supper, we have a fighting chance we can eat it.”

  Jazzi shook her head at him. “Her cooking isn’t that bad.”

  He shrugged. “It’s according to her mood. If her mind drifts to some refinishing project, something burns.”

  They filled the trash can, and Ansel dragged it to the door. He hefted it up, muscles rippling, and hurried to empty it in the dumpster. He came back soaked. Usually, Jazzi would drool when his shirt stuck to him, but today he looked cold.

  “Put your poncho on before you duck outside next time. The men are working on the furnace. We don’t have any heat in here.”

  He nodded. “Forgot about that.” He yanked off his wet shirt and pulled on his hoodie. That was fun to watch, but soon he’d get too warm in that. Jazzi grabbed his flannel shirt and zipped downstairs.

  “What are you doing?” Jerod called after her.

  “Putting this in the drier. That and the washing machine are new enough to keep.”

  When she came back up, Ansel reached out to hug her. “You’re the best.”

  “I try.” She kind of liked the guy.

  They went back to scraping off tiles, and Jazzi’s thoughts drifted to Darby and Colin again. “Colin never mentioned that Darby fired him. Maybe Darby changed his mind.”

  Jerod grunted when he hit a tile that didn’t give. “Or maybe Colin decided that since the old coot was dead, he just wouldn’t mention it.”

  Jazzi kicked the last few tiles she’d loosened out of her way. “When Gaff interviewed Earl, he never mentioned that he was seeing Bea or that he’d punched Darby to get him off her, and Andy and Colin didn’t squeal on him. There might be more they didn’t mention.”

  Ansel snorted. “Then Earl must have dirt he could dish on them.”

  Jazzi stopped work for a minute to think about that. “Gaff should talk to the three of them again.”

  “He’ll want you to go with him,” Jerod said. “We’ll have the tiles up by four. Why not have him pick you up then? You wanted shutters and flower boxes for the front of the house, right? Ansel and I will start building those while you’re gone. We’ll work in the garage so we don’t have to worry about sawdust. They won’t take much time. And tell Gaff since he keeps borrowing you, he needs to repay us by letting us finish the driveway.”

  Ah, her cousin was offering her up as a bribe, but it might work. “I’ll give it a try.” She went to make the call, and when she came back, she was smiling. “It’s a deal. Gaff will pick me up at four, and we can work on the driveway tomorrow.”

  “I knew I hooked up with you for a reason,” Jerod told her.

  Ansel laughed. “I’m hooking up with her for lots of reasons.”

  “I still want these floors finished,” Jerod said. “Let’s hit it.”

  And by the time Gaff got there, the tiles were gone, and Jazzi was ready to leave with him.

  Chapter 24

  “How’s the house coming?” Gaff asked as they drove to Darby’s place. No, Jazzi corrected herself, it’s Walker’s place now.

  “We’re going to finish the driveway tomorrow since you gave us permission. Then we have gutters to install, shutters and flower boxes to put up, and trim to paint on the higher windows.”

  Gaff’s shoulders relaxed. “Good, because they’re predicting colder temperatures next week.”

  “I heard that, but it’s the middle of October. It might get warmer again after that weather system passes. I’m hoping for a mild Halloween.”

  Gaff looked surprised. “Why? You don’t have kids yet. You won’t get any trick-or-treaters where you live. The houses are too far apart.”

  “But Jerod, Ansel, and I take Jerod’s kids to my mom’s neighborhood to go house to house. I stay with Mom and help her pass out candy while Ansel goes with Jerod.”

  “That’s nice. Your family does a lot of things together.”

  “I’d miss them if I ever had to move out of town. It would be awful to be like Walker and have a dad who was so mean, you had to run away from him.”

  “The sins of the fathers…” Gaff shook his head. “Not a punishment from the heavens, just the way it is. It’s the kids who pay when the celestial lottery gives them crappy parents.”

  Jazzi blinked at him in surprise. Gaff was getting philosophical on her. Who knew? “Your family’s close, too. Your kids must like you a little.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, they didn’t turn out too bad, but it’s just us and the kids. Ann’s and my parents took off after retirement, followed the sun.”

  They were silent for a moment, and the sound of the windshield wipers, swiping back and forth, caught Jazzi’s attention. They were getting close to Walker’s house. Gaff’s expression changed to detective mode. When he turned into the long drive to the outbuildings, he said, “Let’s see what the drivers decide to tell us this time.”

  Jazzi caught the word “decide.” She was quickly learning that omissions could be as misleading as out-and-out lies.

  Gaff parked by the office door, and when they hurried inside, they found Walker and all three drivers sitting around a table, in the middle of a meeting. Rain thudded on the metal roof, creating a din. Walker looked up and nodded. “Since you wanted us all together, I decided to throw out Dad’s idea of tackling a fixer-upper during our slow time.”

  “How long did you say the business has been losing money?” Earl asked.

  “For months now. Dad meant to fire Colin because he needed to cut back on expenses.”

  Colin waved that away. “He’d threatened to fire me on and off for years, but then he’d look at the workload and realize there was no way he could do without me.”

  “So you weren’t worried?” Gaff asked.

  “Not especially. Darby couldn’t turn away business because he didn’t have a big enough crew. Even he wasn’t that stupid.”

  “What about during the slow months?” Gaff asked. “What do you do then?”

  Earl motioned out the window to his heavy pickup. “I put a blade on Betsy and plow snow. I have lots of driveways and small parking lots lined up.”

  Gaff turned to Andy.

  “I paint house interiors and hang wallpaper with a buddy of mine. I wouldn’t mind learning new skills, though, if we decide to flip houses.”

  Jazzi scanned their faces. “Have any of you worked construction or flipped houses before?”

  Not a nod in sight.

  Gaff motioned for Colin to go next.

  “I head up north to a ski lodge. I clean sidewalks and parking lots, do a little maintenance, that kind of thing. I like working outdoors.”

  Gaff nodded. “Do you have anything else to tell me? Something I should know? The first time I questioned you three, not one person brought up the incident with Darby and Bea. No one even mentioned that Darby had a housekeeper. Did something more happen that Monday that you don’t want me to know?”

  Colin and Andy glanced at Earl. “It wasn’t Earl’s fault,” Andy said. “Darby wouldn’t let go of Bea. Earl had to punch him.”

  “If it was no big deal, why not tell me about it?” Gaff demanded.

  Colin stared. “You’re a cop. You’re looking for someone to pin Darby’s murder on. Earl didn’t kill him. He just punched him.”

  “How can you be sure Earl didn’t kill him?”

  Colin gave a long sigh. He obviously thought Gaff was being dense. “Because once Darby hit the dirt, Bea ran to Earl, and we all went to our
cars and drove away at the same time.”

  “But Darby lived here. One of you could have come back.”

  “In the middle of the night? After Darby got back from the bar? Why would we do that?” Colin rubbed his hand over his face. “You’re reaching, man. None of us wanted Darby dead. We’d have to look for new jobs.”

  Unless Darby had already fired them, for real, or threatened to cut their wages. Why did someone kill him? Jazzi would love to know the answer. But it felt like they’d hit another dead end.

  As the men stood to go to their trucks, Walker asked, “What about flipping a house during our slow time?”

  “I don’t know,” Earl said. “None of us has any experience.”

  That seemed to sum it up. Earl and Colin left, but Andy stayed behind.

  “Do you need to talk about something else?” Walker asked.

  Andy turned to Jazzi. “Are there houses that are easier, that take less work, that we could make money on?”

  “It’s trickier,” she told him, “and you wouldn’t make as much.”

  “I’d like to give it a try.”

  Walker pinched his lips together, frowning. He looked at Jazzi. “I wouldn’t lose money, would I?”

  She was ready to leave, to call it a day, but heard how nervous he was. Walker was trying to do the right thing for the men who worked for him. Andy sounded desperate enough to grab at anything hopeful. She settled in her chair. “If the house has any major problems you don’t know about, you can pour money down a pit.” She might as well let them know the dangers that could lurk behind walls and under floorboards. Flipping houses might not be the answer for their slow season.

  Andy slammed his fist on the table, frustrated. “I need to make more money!”

  Jazzi felt sorry for him, but she was trying to help. “That’s why I’m not sugarcoating house flipping. If a furnace is bad, you have to replace it. Same for AC. Plumbing problems? If you can’t fix them yourselves, you have to pay somebody. Wiring…”

  Andy interrupted her. “I get it! But painting with my buddy doesn’t pay half as much as driving a truck. We’re already living paycheck to paycheck. My kid’s medical bills keep going up. I need some kind of miracle.”

  Jazzi was fresh out of those. She didn’t know what to tell him.

  Walker fiddled with some real estate books he’d brought. “What did you usually do this time of year? How did you make ends meet before?”

  “Your dad hired me to clean and organize the outbuildings during the slow season. I can do a little mechanical work and looked over the trucks and equipment, have everything in good repair before orders came in again.”

  Walker frowned, looking confused. “Why aren’t you doing that this year?”

  “Darby told me he was doing it himself, that he didn’t need me.”

  “Dad?” He shook his head. “That’s a scary thought. He never took care of the equipment. He didn’t know how.”

  Chapter 25

  Andy looked away, knotting his hands into fists. “All I know is what Darby told me. Where am I going to find a job that only lasts three months? I’m going to go under and take my family with me. And why didn’t your old man warn me in time that I wouldn’t have a job, so I could look for something else?”

  “He probably didn’t want to lose you,” Walker told him. “And that’s why he came up with this harebrained scheme to flip houses. But you have a job now. I’m hiring you to do what you usually did. Business is picking up, and we’ll need everything in good shape when decent weather rolls around again.”

  Andy gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles went white. “Are you serious?”

  “Sure am. That’s a part of the business I never did. I have no idea how to do it right.”

  Andy’s entire body relaxed. His shoulders straightened with the weight of worry removed from them. “Thanks, man. This means the world to me.”

  Gaff chose that moment to open his notepad and click his pen. “When did Darby spring the news on you that your work ended with the last cement job this year?”

  Andy shifted from one foot to the other. “A week before he died.”

  “That had to make you pretty upset. Maybe even furious.” Gaff narrowed his eyes, studying him.

  Andy spread out his hands in a helpless gesture. “Look. I didn’t kill him. You can ask my wife. I was home that entire night.”

  “I’m guessing your wife is so exhausted, nothing would wake her once she falls asleep. You could have crawled out of bed and driven to Darby’s, and she’d never know it.”

  Andy stared. “Who told you? I didn’t think anyone saw me. I went, okay? But I didn’t kill him.”

  Gaff gaped. So did Jazzi. He’d lied to them. He’d actually gone to have it out with Darby on the night he died.

  Andy ran both hands through his dark hair. “I’d had it. I couldn’t sleep. I was going nuts. No matter what I thought of, it wouldn’t work, I wouldn’t make enough money. So I drove to Darby’s to tell him he either hired me for the slow season, or I was done. I’d look for another job.”

  “Is that when you fought? When you lost your temper and killed him?” Gaff asked.

  “No!” Andy dropped his gaze to the floor, not making eye contact with him. “I couldn’t find him. I looked in the outbuildings and knocked at his house. His van was in the drive, but I figured Whiskers must have picked him up to go to the bar and they weren’t back yet. Either that, or Darby had passed out and it would be pointless to try to talk to him. I finally gave up and went home.”

  “What time did you arrive at Darby’s?” Gaff was already writing in his notepad.

  “One-thirty? Two? Somewhere in there. I can’t swear to it.”

  “He was probably already dead and buried in the gravel.” Gaff waited for his reaction.

  Andy glanced at the dump truck parked on the gravel. He frowned, trying to remember. “It seems to me it was filled, ready to go, but I can’t be sure. That’s Darby’s truck. He’s the only one who drove it. I should have told you, but it looked so bad, my coming here in the middle of the night. I mean, I was mad at Darby. Desperate. You’d think for sure that I killed him.”

  “I still think it’s a possibility.”

  “I’d never do that to my wife. I’d mess up, for sure—leave some evidence or break down when you interviewed me. I’d spill something that would get me caught, like I did now. You didn’t know I’d come, did you? My wife can’t raise our boy on her own. It’s a two-person job. I wouldn’t be any help to her if I was in prison.”

  The man’s devotion to his wife and son made Jazzi like him all the more. How many men would decide not to mess up someone because it would affect their families? But she believed Andy. He did care about them that much.

  Gaff shook his head, looking irritated. “You have motive and opportunity, so you’ve moved up on my suspect list. Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

  Andy shook his head. He turned to Walker. “Am I still hired to work the off-season?”

  “I believe you,” Walker said. “My dad made me so mad, I left town. I don’t think you killed him, so yeah, it still stands.”

  That was enough to make Jazzi decide. He could come to their Sunday meals for life if he wanted to. “Does this mean you’re not interested in fixer-uppers anymore?” she asked him.

  “They sound too risky to me. Besides, I’d rather concentrate on this business. We’re going to make it.”

  With a nod, Gaff turned to leave, and Jazzi followed him. He waited for her to share his umbrella before going to the car. She called Ansel once she was in the passenger seat. “Are you at the job or at home?”

  “We have only one more pair of shutters to make. Wanna come and help us paint them?”

  “We’re on our way. See you soon.”

  Chapter 26

  Gaff p
ulled to the curb and handed her his umbrella. “You have a ways to walk to reach the garage.”

  She smiled and pulled a small, fold-up umbrella out of her purse. “I’m prepared.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not much, so don’t dawdle.”

  She didn’t. She dashed down the side yard and past the open overhead door into the two-car garage. George was lying just inside, out of the rain but away from the sawdust. The shutters were beautiful. The guys had built them with three vertical slabs of wide wood with horizontal slabs near the tops and bottoms. The flower boxes were deep and wide, too, to stay in balance with the big house.

  “How’d it go?” Ansel asked as she shut her umbrella and propped it against the wall. The downpour had softened to a steady drizzle.

  Before answering his question, Jazzi glared outside, pushing strands of loose hair that had escaped the elastic band behind her ear. “Sure. Now the deluge stops.” She told them about Andy and that Walker wasn’t going to pursue finding a fixer-upper.

  Jerod pried open the can of deep green paint while Jazzi fetched a stir stick and paintbrush. “Good. That wasn’t one of Darby’s better ideas.”

  “He was reaching, needed something to save his business.” Jazzi propped a shutter across two sawhorses and began painting.

  Ansel finished the last shutter and nodded approval. “Looks good. I like the way these turned out.”

  He and Jerod each hauled a flower box onto their saw horse.

  “What’s for supper tonight?” Ansel asked as he painted the inside of the box. Her Norseman always thought about what he’d eat once they got home.

  “Homemade hash with leftover potatoes and steak. A salad on the side.”

  “Can we put an egg on top of mine?”

  She smiled. “You and your eggs! I can do that.”

  Ansel looked happy, but Jerod scowled. “Franny insisted on cooking tonight. Since she’s far enough along, she’s starving most of the time. I can’t fill her up. I hope I don’t go home to a whole pig roasting over a pit in our backyard.”