The Body in the Attic Page 13

  Franny grinned and said, “Will do.”

  And everyone returned to other topics.

  When it came time for dessert, everyone had a big piece of lemon meringue pie. Thane finally looked at Jazzi and said, “I heard you had to deal with Thomas Sorrell.”

  She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “What a nasty human being.”

  Thane nodded. “He hired our company to install huge roof air-conditioning units for his factory, and he tried every trick he could think of to argue down the price and say that we didn’t install them properly. He even came up on the roof to harass us while we worked.”

  “Did he win?” Eli asked. “Because he tried the same crap with me. He brought his car into the garage with a scratch down its passenger side and then tried to say that we’d scratched it while we did the repairs. It’s a good thing we had it documented before we started work on it.”

  “We’ve dealt with his type before, so he didn’t get anywhere, but I have to say, he was one of the worst.” Thane looked to Olivia to agree with him. Olivia always backed him up.

  Eli chuckled. “He rubbed me the wrong way, too.”

  Thane looked at Jazzi. “Did it go okay for you?”

  “Gaff just wanted to interview him about Lynda. He got enough information, but Thomas was so arrogant, I could hardly stand being around him.”

  “Yeah, the world revolves around him,” Eli said.

  Grandma finished her pie and smiled. “It’s a good thing he wasn’t the father of Lynda’s baby.”

  They all turned to stare at her. Jazzi asked, “Did you know Lynda was pregnant when she left for New York?”

  “She had the mask. I can always see the mask.” Grandma shrugged. “She shouldn’t have run the second time. Ansel would have been a good father.”

  The second time?

  Grandma gave Jazzi a pointed look. “He’d be a good father to your children, too.”

  Jazzi blushed. Ansel as the father of her babies? A nice fantasy. “I’m not ready for kids yet.”

  “Then just enjoy trying to make them,” Grandma told her. “That boy’s good looking.”

  She felt her blush deepen. Enough. Jazzi looked around the table. “Does anyone need anything else?”

  Jerod chuckled and popped another can of beer. Mom reached for a second glass of wine. Olivia and Jazzi joined her. Gunner told everyone how he’d gone to Franke Park summer camp and got to see frogs. “We got to hop like them, then walk like crabs and camels, too. Lots of different kinds of animals.” He led them into the backyard to show them his newfound skills.

  People started leaving after that. It had been a nice get-together. When everyone was gone, Jazzi finished rinsing dirty plates and loading the dishwasher. When she took out the table’s leaves this time, she propped them against the wall. She’d wrap them and take them to Cal’s house this week. Then she poured herself another glass of wine and plopped onto the couch. She hadn’t been a couch potato for too long, and she had a lot of shows that she’d missed and recorded. Today was catch up for all of them.

  Chapter 23

  By the time the ceiling tiles were delivered on Monday, the three of them had painted the large kitchen and entertaining area a soft cream color to match the living room. The guys decided to drag the armoire and chest of drawers out of the attic while the paint dried. Jazzi went up with them to carry down one of the mirrors that might work in the caramel-colored bedroom.

  Jerod clunked his shin on the armoire on his way down the narrow attic stairs. A curse word followed. He tilted the tall piece a little too much and the door cracked open enough to pinch his finger. The curses escalated.

  Jazzi agreed they were a hazard. “They’re a pain, or the renter would have sold everything in the attic. He was too lazy to bother with them.”

  On the third curse, Jazzi frowned at him. “Are you okay? You cussed through most of our painting, too.” It’s not that it was unusual for her cousin to cuss, but he tended to be in a good humor most of the time. Something was bugging him.

  When they reached the bottom of the steps, and it was easier to carry their load, Jerod blurted, “Franny’s pregnant again.”

  Lizzie was a year and a half old; Gunner was four. “Did you want a third baby? This would be a good spacing between kids. They’ll be close enough together to be friends.”

  “Nah, we meant to stop at two rug rats. But Franny takes her pill before bed, and she fell asleep without taking a few. I swear, though, every time I hang my pants on the bedpost, that woman conceives.”

  Jazzi gave him a look. “Knowing you two, I doubt that’s all you do.”

  Jerod laughed. “Yeah, we’re both a bit on the horny side. Can’t deny that. Ah, what the heck? We make the best kids around. Why not go for a third one?”

  “You don’t want to stop at three.” Ansel shook his head. “My sister’s between my two older brothers and me. Always whining about something. Middle-child syndrome.”

  Jazzi wasn’t buying it. “Either that or she was sick of so much testosterone.”

  Ansel laughed. “There was a lot of pushing and punching, too much smack talking.”

  “You?” Jazzi couldn’t imagine Ansel talking smack. He usually played down how good he was at anything.

  “You have to establish your place in the pecking order,” Ansel explained. “My sister thought she should have a tiara and be treated like a princess since she was the only girl.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Every kid blames their parents for anything that goes wrong.” Jerod wedged the armoire into the bedroom, being careful not to chip the door frame. “The oldest complains that they expected too much from him. The youngest says he was babied. The middle didn’t get enough attention. Parents can’t win.”

  “I was the youngest, and I wasn’t babied,” Ansel argued.

  Jerod snorted. “Ask your older brothers what they think about that.”

  They placed the armoire on the wall Ansel had chosen. He stepped back to survey it and nodded. “It looks good there.”

  “What about you?” Jerod asked him. “Do you ever want kids?”

  “Emily doesn’t. Not ever, but I’d like to be a dad someday.” Ansel bent to scratch George behind the ears. “I think I’d make a good one.”

  “Not if you spoil a kid like you do that dog.”

  Jazzi had never seen anyone dote on a pooch like Ansel did George. Mom sure never paid as much attention to her and Olivia. A good thing. If Mom had jumped to meet their every want or need, they’d be as spoiled as the pug. “I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for Lynda to give up her baby and pretend nothing ever happened. I bet she thought about him all the time.”

  Jerod stared. “That’s not the way I see it. I think Lynda’s like Emily. She didn’t want kids. Not every woman does. Maury’s admitted he was the dad. He wanted to marry Lynda and he’d have raised their son. It was Lynda who didn’t want him.”

  “She didn’t want to have to marry Maury. And she’d have had to if she kept the baby.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe Maury would have raised Noah by himself. I can tell you this, though, if I found out that I had a baby that I never knew about, I’d be furious.”

  Ansel nodded agreement. “Lynda shafted Maury. And I’d guess she didn’t think twice about Noah after she left New York.”

  “Do you know what’s worse?” Jerod started back up the attic stairs to get the chest of drawers. “If she wanted to keep her secret so that she’d look good when she came back to River Bluffs, that’s one thing. But to throw what she did in Maury’s face years later was a low blow. She knew he couldn’t do anything about it by then. She just wanted to twist the knife and make him suffer.”

  “I don’t get why she told him. Maury was always nice to her.” She followed Jerod up. Before the men moved the chest, she’d take out the drawers and carry them d
own separately.

  “What did you tell us?” Ansel trailed behind her. “Maury warned Arnie and Cal off her. Lynda didn’t like anyone interfering in her business.”

  “If you ask me,” Jerod said, “Lynda and Thomas Sorrell were perfect for each other.”

  Jazzi pulled out a top drawer. “That’s a little harsh.”

  Jerod took out the second drawer to put aside. “Think about it. Sorrell would have met his match. Lynda would nail him if he tried to push her around.”

  Not a very flattering view of Aunt Lynda, but Jazzi had to admit her mom’s sister wasn’t the martyr type.

  When they took out the last drawer, the men carried the heavy chest down the steps and Jazzi went up and down, carrying the drawers. When Ansel placed it where he wanted it, they returned the drawers into their proper slots. Then all three of them stood back to decide what they thought.

  Jerod smiled to give his verdict. “Looks good in here.”

  Ansel grinned, pleased. “The sleigh bed’s coming on Thursday. Then we’ll know for sure.”

  But Jazzi could already tell the furniture was going to be perfect for this room.

  Ansel carried George downstairs and they circled the cooler. They’d take their lunch break before getting busy on the tin ceiling. It was easy to install, but the area was big enough, it would take the rest of today and most of tomorrow to finish it. Jazzi wanted it in place when the cupboards and appliances arrived on Wednesday. They had to cut the plywood countertops, too, for the stainless steel to wrap around. They’d measured and then measured again to make sure they’d fit.

  Jazzi had gone to a little extra bother with their lunches today. She’d brought three bread bowls and scooped them out and made a hoagie-style filling with shredded lettuce and pickled banana peppers to put inside them. She even sprang for Michelob instead of their usual beer.

  “Wow, cuz! What made you get all fancy on us?”

  Ansel took a chunk of bread to scoop up the meat mix. “How do we get you to do this again?”

  “The mood moved me last night,” she told them, “but that doesn’t happen very often. It’ll be back to deli meat sandwiches tomorrow.” She’d had a nice, relaxing night last night and had most of the ingredients in her refrigerator. Serendipity blessed them. What could she say?

  Jerod reached for more filling. “I’ve learned to appreciate what I get. My Franny is fun and wonderful and a great mom, but it’s safer when I cook the meals.”

  “I like to cook, too,” Ansel said.

  Jazzi almost choked on her swallow of beer. “Since when? I’ve never seen you cook.”

  “I help you, don’t I? Emily doesn’t like it when I make a mess in the kitchen.”

  Jerod looked skeptical. “Even if you’re cooking for her? You do all of the cleanup, don’t you?”

  “She’d rather I ran and brought food home.”

  Jerod sighed. “I forgot that people without kids can afford to eat out all the time.”

  “I’d get tired of that.” Jazzi finished her lunch and went to throw her paper plate in the trash. “Fast food and restaurant food get old after a while.”

  “I think so, too,” Ansel and Jerod said in unison.

  George enjoyed his last nibbles of lunch when Ansel took his last bite. Jazzi decided that what Ansel liked, George liked. When the guys finished eating, they tossed their paper plates and the three of them started work on the ceiling tiles.

  They measured and applied the glue for the kitchen area. Pressing the fake tin tiles in place went faster than they expected. Once, Ansel had to climb off his ladder when he caught George finishing the last dregs of the beer he’d left on the floor beside his chair, but Jazzi welcomed the break. Holding her arms above her head for so long got tiresome. She’d feel it tomorrow, and there were more tiles to go.

  “That was too much for you,” Ansel scolded the dog. “I had enough for a last drink before I left for the day.”

  The can was empty, and George lowered his head on his paws and closed his eyes, unrepentant.

  By five o’clock, they’d finished the ceiling all the way to the island that would help divide the kitchen from the dining area.

  “Is Emily home tonight?” Jazzi asked as they cleaned and locked up.

  “She has tonight and tomorrow night off. I’m taking her out to eat. Keep your fingers crossed we can call a truce.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Emily’s relentless when she wants something.”

  Jazzi had suspected as much. She decided to stop at the Tower Bar on her way home. She was hungry for chicken wings and meant to order their citrus-chipotle grilled version, some of her favorites. The restaurant was a little east of Hillegas Road, not far out of her way home.

  When she walked in, Maury was sitting at a table with a group of friends. They’d finished eating and were getting ready to leave, but Maury waved her over and motioned for another beer.

  “Hey, how are you doing?” he asked.

  “Fine, we’re making headway on Cal’s house. It’s turning out really nice.”

  Maury’s beer came and the waitress took Jazzi’s order—wings, fries, and half an order of Greek salad. The Tower’s fries and salads were delicious, too. More people came in, and tables started to fill. The noise level amped up. The bar did a great business.

  Maury let her take a sip of her wine and relax a little before he asked, “Have you and Gaff made any progress?”

  “Not much. We went to see Thomas Sorrell over the weekend.”

  Maury blinked. “You’re a brave woman, but then, Thomas didn’t intimidate Lynda either. He never figured that out. He always thought if he wanted something, he’d get it. He could never bully her.” He snickered. “He didn’t have much luck in River Bluffs, period. Cal and Isabelle side-stepped him, too. Isabelle makes her own decisions. She’s quiet, but purposeful.”

  Purposeful. Jazzi liked that word to describe her.

  The waitress came with Jazzi’s salad, and the dressing tasted delicious. “Thomas told us he was going to sell his businesses in River Bluffs, that they weren’t fun since Cal died.”

  Maury grimaced. “He loved baiting Cal. Thomas isn’t the type to say the best man won. It never occurs to him that he’s not the best man.”

  “Did you do business with him?” Jazzi asked.

  “No, I stayed as far away from him as possible. I warned Arnie to do the same thing.”

  “You two were close growing up, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah, we hung out together at school. I never got to know your dad very well, since he went to public school and was younger than us.”

  Jazzi still found it odd that her dad’s two older brothers went to Catholic school and he didn’t. “Did Arnie listen to you?”

  “No, he always thought Lynda would burn through men, and then eventually, she’d see that he was always there for her.”

  She’d bet Sorrell didn’t appreciate that. “Did Arnie have a run-in with Thomas?”

  Maury chuckled. “Oh, yeah, but Sorrell didn’t count on how free and loose Arnie played. When Sorrell ticked him off, somehow Arnie found out everywhere Sorrell took Lynda and had huge bouquets of flowers delivered to her there. It drove Thomas nuts until he finally called Arnie and made peace. It’s the only time I think that ever happened.”

  Jazzi had to smile. Her uncle was what Dad called a loose cannon. He’d always been fun to be around at family gatherings. He loved to do the unexpected. She could see how Sorrell wouldn’t have any idea what to do with him.

  Maury grew serious. “I suppose Noah’s family had his body sent to New York for a funeral.”

  Jazzi nodded.

  Maury sighed and looked down, avoiding her gaze. When he looked back up, anger blazed in his eyes. “I called Gaff after I met Noah’s dad. What a neat guy! I’m so grateful Noah
ended up with a father that nice. Gaff said someone bashed in the back of Noah’s head. That only happened seven months ago. I want Gaff to find the killer.”

  “He’s trying.”

  Maury finished his beer. “Well, I’d better get going. I’m ruining your meal. Sorry. If you hear anything, though, will you let me know?”

  “Will do.” She watched him leave the bar and motioned to the waitress. “I’ll take another wine.” That was a weenie move, drinking to restore her mood, but tonight, she didn’t care.

  Chapter 24

  On Wednesday, Jazzi woke so excited, she flew through her morning routine to speed to Cal’s house. The kitchen cabinets and appliances would come today. She, Jerod, and Ansel had finished the ceiling tiles yesterday, put up beams to rim the room’s ceiling, and cut out the plywood base for the stainless-steel counters. The beams gave the room a little more of a European look. Once the cupboards and appliances were in place, the three of them could work on the backsplash, install a hood, and start moving in all of her kitchen utensils and goods.

  On Sunday, she could start entertaining here!

  Ansel’s pickup was already parked in Cal’s drive when she got there. When she entered the house, he was in the kitchen, laying cardboard over the floor to protect it when the men entered at the side door. “I have more in the back of my pickup,” he told her.

  She went to bring in more big sheets to help him.

  He made sure to leave enough space from the chalk marks they’d drawn for the layout for each cupboard. She accidentally stepped on the chalk line and smudged it a bit, and he scowled at her. Somebody was a little testy today.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Emily and I had an argument last night.”

  A rare event. Ansel usually agreed with anything she told him.

  “Are you two good?”

  “I don’t want to move. Neither does George.” Hearing his name, the dog’s tail wagged, but he didn’t manage to sit up or open his eyes.