The Body from the Past Page 15

  “I hope this lets up before we have to go to the store.” Ansel came to stand behind her, watching the downpour. “Sometimes I wish we had an attached garage so we don’t have to drown getting from the house to the van and back.”

  “Even with an umbrella, we’ll get wet.” The wind was whipping the rain sideways. Jazzi’s mom and dad’s trilevel house had a two-car garage connected to the house. She’d loved that convenience when she was growing up. When she’d bought this house, she’d taken theirs for granted, but since tramping through rain and snow here, she’d realized how nice it had been.

  “Maybe we could build a walkway with a roof.” She glanced at her reflection in the glass and winced. Her unruly hair looked like a rat had made a nest in it last night. “It wouldn’t protect us from the cold, but at least we wouldn’t get soaked.”

  “No easy way to make it look right.” Ansel frowned, trying to picture it. “We’d have to get creative.”

  She grinned at him. “You’re creative. You’ll think of something.”

  Her praise didn’t fool him. He gave her a look. It would be a pain in the fanny, and they both knew it. “It might be easier to build a new garage with a breezeway to the house.”

  “Another project, but it might be worth it.”

  When they started downstairs, the cats flew to their food bowls. George sat patiently at his. The cats wound around her ankles, begging for more, so she gave them each a little shredded cheese. They didn’t like milk, wouldn’t touch it, but they looked forward to cheese once in a while. Morning chores done, she and Ansel carried their coffee to the living room and settled in for a slow start.

  “What are you making for the Sunday meal?” Ansel asked. “Stuff we need to start early? Or can we wait longer than usual to shop and hope the storm blows away?”

  “My dad loves pork goulash with buttered noodles. It’s gray and gloomy outside—the perfect weather for it. Olivia loves Greek salads, so I thought I’d make one of those, and a certain man I married has a fondness for Black Forest cake.”

  His eyes lit up. “I can help with all of those.”

  “What do you have planned for the day?”

  His gaze slid away from hers. “I was thinking of buying a few Halloween decorations. I saw these three witches stirring a cauldron who cackled when a motion sensor went off.”

  “Almost life-size. I’ve seen it.”

  “Well?”

  “I won’t fuss about you buying that if you help me draw a plan of the Merlot house and start marking off which people were in which room when Jessica fell.”

  “A trade-off?” He grinned. “You know I’d have helped you anyway.”

  She laughed. “And I’d have let you buy your witches, but is it a deal?”

  They linked pinkie fingers to make it official. He went to get more coffee for them, and she tore up a white shopping bag to give them a big surface to draw on. He did that while she sipped coffee and watched him. He was better at drawing things to scale than she was.

  When he finished, she put two xs in the kitchen. “The only people I’m sure about are Damian and Jillian.” She added a question mark in the backyard and wrote “Mr. Hodgkill.” “Everyone so far has said he was at the grill, but he could have left for a few minutes once he’d made the burgers and brats.” She put another question mark close by. “Tilly was supposedly in line for food. I need to ask if anyone can confirm that.” Two more in the kitchen. “RJ said he was in the kitchen, hiding from his aunt, with Felicity. I need to check with her to corroborate that.” Another x in the bathroom. “Kelsey doesn’t have an alibi.”

  “What about Jessica’s mother?” Ansel asked.

  Jazzi stared. “She was Jessica’s champion.”

  “Just saying, if you’re going to list people, you should list her.”

  She nodded. He was right, but it would only be a formality. “I’ll ask someone.”

  “Her brother?” Ansel asked. “Was he home?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll put him down to check on, too.”

  “Who else is there?”

  She counted them off on her fingers. “Nadia Ashton, the tennis player. Lila Mattock, the…” She let that go. “And RJ’s aunt.”

  He grimaced. “You have a lot of people to account for.”

  “I know.”

  “We’ll stop to talk to someone every night next week when we leave the Merlot house.”

  Staring at the drawing, she nodded. She’d feel a lot better when she could cross off more names. “And those are just the obvious people. There could be more.”

  Ansel glanced outside. “The rain’s letting up a little. Want to make a run to the store now before it starts up again? It’s supposed to rain harder later today.”

  She draped the drawing over Jessica’s hope chest and went to get the grocery list. Sliding into her shoes, she shrugged on her heavy jacket. George trotted to the French doors and looked out. When he saw the light rain, he turned back to his dog bed.

  “Smart boy,” Ansel said. “Let us bring all the food to you.”

  There was something to be said for the pampered pet life. Jazzi put on a baseball cap to keep her head dry and made a run for the garage, Ansel close behind her.

  They got lucky. They’d carried the last grocery bag into the house in a steady drizzle and put the pickup in the garage before the deluge started again. The idea of a new garage was looking better all the time. They had plenty of room to build one.

  They turned on all the overhead kitchen lights while they unloaded the groceries. It was so gloomy outside, they needed to combat it. Inky and Marmalade, as usual, ran in and out of the empty, brown paper bags, pouncing on each other now and then. George came to inspect the groceries, hoping for small snacks, and when they finished and started cooking, he parked himself beside the kitchen island.

  “The meat has to cook through before you get any,” Jazzi told him. He understood those words but sat, staring eagerly, while she and Ansel cut pork loins into cubes to brown. Chopped onions and garlic went in next. Ansel fished out a few browned pieces of meat for George before they added the seasonings, ketchup, and water. Finally rewarded for his patience, George wandered to his dog bed, content.

  “We can cook the noodles and make the salad tomorrow,” Jazzi said. “That only leaves the cakes.” They’d have to make two of them. Because it was one of his favorites, she went to the extra work to make them from scratch. She started by making four layers of chocolate genoise for each cake. While they baked, she made the filling, and Ansel made chocolate swiss meringue buttercream for the icing.

  “I used to just make chocolate box cake mixes and use cherry pie filling,” Jazzi said. “A lot fewer steps.”

  “But this is so good, and you have me to help you.”

  There was that. And it really was worth the extra work. It was such a miserable day outside, it was fun spending time together in the kitchen anyway. Inky jumped up to sit on the wide window ledge in the sitting area. He watched the rain pound the front lawn. Jazzi glanced out the window over the sink and saw the last of the leaves blown off the trees. Marmalade curled in front of the French doors.

  Usually, when they spent most of the day cooking, they ordered in pizza for supper, but she didn’t want to make some poor deliveryperson come out in this, so she started a big pot of soup for supper instead. She could take the leftovers to the Merlot house for lunch on Monday.

  Ansel loved soup, and one of his favorites was white chili, so the whole thing went together quickly with them working together. By the time they ate and cleaned the kitchen, they were both ready to relax in the living room for the rest of the night. Ansel watched TV, and she settled in the chair beside Jessica’s hope chest, determined to read as many journals as possible.

  This time, she scanned through the earlier ones and made it up to sixth grade before the entri
es got really interesting. Jessica’s mom let her and Alwin invite friends to their house for a Halloween party.

  The party was for Alwin, too, so Dad rented a pony for our friends to ride in the backyard, Jessica wrote. And Mom made all kinds of treats. She organized games for us to play, too.

  Jazzi paid closer attention because she had little idea of what kinds of games to have for kids. Maybe she could pick up some tips for Gunther, Lizzie, and River. Jessica painted a picture of a lovely family time until she and Darcie won at the sack races and Jessica hit the piñata hard enough to break it open. Alwin had wanted to do that, so he pushed his hand on the back of her head when she was bobbing for apples. He held her underwater until Darcie punched him so hard, she knocked him down. When Darcie told Jessica’s mom that Alwin tried to drown his sister, Alwin only laughed and said he was only trying to scare her.

  But I’m not so sure, Jessica wrote. When I complained, Dad told me to get over it. It was only a joke.

  It wasn’t a funny one, their mom snapped. Alwin, go to your room and stay there until the party’s over.

  No need for that, her dad ordered, canceling the order. Boys will be boys.

  Jazzi shivered, rubbing her arms. The next time she saw Gaff, she was going to ask him to check on Alwin’s whereabouts more carefully. Suddenly, he didn’t look like the protective brother anymore.

  Chapter 28

  As usual, Jerod and his family were the first to walk into the kitchen for the Sunday meal. Instead of taking their position by the cheese ball and crackers, Jerod nodded toward the basement door. “We’re excited about how the room turned out. Can we take a look at it?”

  Ansel was already motioning them toward the steps. He could hardly wait to show it to them. That became the trend for the day. People walked in the kitchen, then disappeared downstairs. Everyone: Jazzi’s parents, Jerod’s mom and dad, Olivia and Thane—who actually came on time—Walker’s family, Radley and Elspeth, and even Gran and Samantha. While they gawked and praised, Jazzi set up food and drinks on the kitchen island.

  When she was ready, she called down, “If you’re hungry and want hot food, you’d better get up here!”

  They trudged up, in single file. Her dad grinned when he saw the Hungarian goulash with pork, and Olivia got excited about the Greek salad. Before long, they were all seated and gossiping.

  “Have you learned anything more about that poor girl who died?” Gran asked.

  Jazzi explained about the Halloween entry she’d read the night before.

  Mom waved that away. “Kids do stupid things. Her brother sounds like a spoiled brat, but that doesn’t mean he killed her. Remember when Jerod got mad at you and locked you in Gran’s chicken coop for half an hour before we found you?”

  She’d forgotten about that. Walker laughed. “Sounds like something you’d do,” he told Jerod.

  “I was eight. And she was being bossy.”

  “Was not. You couldn’t catch me to throw an earthworm down my shirt.”

  He glanced at Gunther and Lizzie. “Don’t believe a word she says. You can’t trust her.”

  “Dad!” Even Gunther knew the score.

  Olivia changed the subject. She looked at Gran and Samantha. “Are you coming to the Halloween party next Sunday? And are you dressing up?”

  “We’re coming as two witches,” Samantha said. “We both have black dresses and shoes and we bought pointed hats that have long, stringy gray hair attached to them. We’ll be old crones.”

  “Perfect!” Olivia raised an eyebrow at Jazzi. “Have you two decided on something yet?”

  Ansel grimaced. “Haven’t had time, but we’ll think of something.”

  She looked skeptical. “You can’t cut eyeholes in two sheets and come as ghosts.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. Good idea.” When Olivia glared at her, Jazzi laughed. “We won’t do anything elaborate, but we’ll come up with something.”

  River pulled on Didi’s sleeve. “Can I invite my friends? They’d have fun, too.”

  They’d heard a lot about the two boys who lived close to Walker’s house. They spent quite a bit of time together. Before Didi could say no, Ansel sidelined her. “It’s all right with us if it’s all right with your parents.”

  Walker’s lips curled with pleasure, and Jazzi realized that even though River wasn’t Walker’s biological son, he thought of him as his. He was so devoted to the boy, she thought of him as River’s dad, too.

  “Can I?” River asked.

  Didi looked at Walker, who shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

  His answer even made Gunther and Lizzie happy. “Two more friends!” Lizzie cried.

  The conversation shifted to Mom and Olivia’s hair salon as Jazzi and Ansel cleared the table.

  “We can’t take any new clients,” Mom was saying. “Our books are always full, so we’re thinking of hiring someone new. We have room for another station.”

  Jerod frowned. “Would the new girl work for you or rent her space?”

  “We thought we’d let her rent her station. It would bring more people into the salon, and that would be nice.”

  “I think you should leave well enough alone,” Dad argued. “You and Olivia get along, and your clients are happy. Why push it?”

  Mom raised both eyebrows. “Really? You have to ask? We’d make more money, and some of our clients are getting up in age. It might be nice to attract more young people.”

  Dad sniffed. My father rarely argued with Mom about anything, but when he didn’t agree with her, he let her know.

  Gran took offense, too. “We old crones like to look decent, even if young people don’t consider us stylish.”

  Jazzi’s mom gasped. “Mom! I don’t neglect any of our clients, but it never hurts to stay up-to-date and trendy.”

  The debate went back and forth until Jazzi and Ansel carried the Black Forest cakes to the table. Jerod got up to bring the coffeepots. Once people bit into the cake, they settled down to enjoy their dessert.

  As soon as the table was cleared, the men and kids disappeared back into the basement. Jazzi watched them go, then got another glass of wine and poured one for Gran. The women headed into the living room.

  Eleanore, Jerod’s mom, held baby Peter. Frowning, she asked Jazzi, “You’ve never said whether this Jessica who died had any family besides her parents and brother. In a small town like Merlot, you’d think she’d have aunts and uncles, too. Did she?”

  Jazzi blinked, surprised. “I don’t know. No one’s mentioned it, but that’s a good idea. I’ll find out.”

  “Some families support each other. Others feud,” Eleanore said. “Maybe Jessica didn’t get along with her cousins either if she never mentioned them.”

  A new thought. Maybe a cousin did something worse than lock her in a chicken coop. Maybe he pushed her off the balcony. At the very least, family members usually knew one another’s dirty little secrets. Jazzi decided she’d make a point of looking them up, if they existed.

  Chapter 29

  On Monday, the three of them were working upstairs, gutting bathrooms, when someone knocked on the front door. Jerod looked at her. “You’re our official greeter.”

  Yeah, it was starting to look that way. She grimaced. If it was Ruth Goggins, she was turning around and coming back up the steps. But it was a young woman she’d never met, who was a little taller than she was, with a dark brown, chin-length bob and brown eyes. Jazzi opened the door to greet her.

  With a nervous smile, the woman rushed into speech. “Hi, I’m Felicity, a friend of Jillian’s. She said you were renovating Jessica’s house and looking into her murder.”

  “I’m reading her journals, and they made me curious.” Jazzi wanted to clarify. “I’m not a detective or anything.”

  Felicity nodded, glancing around the room. She smiled. “This is nice. Jessica wo
uld love it. You’re not changing her bedroom, are you? She loved the color pink.”

  Jazzi bit her bottom lip. “We’d like to keep everything neutral. Buyers prefer colors they can work with.”

  Felicity sighed. “Probably better. It hurt when I heard you’d cleaned out her room and were going to redo it. But it’s time. None of us have let Jessica go. Probably because the killer was never caught. Her death feels unfinished, unresolved. It’s festered. And even with a new owner, the house felt stuck in the past. I’m glad you’re making it new for someone else to give it a fresh start.”

  She sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that. It was obviously hard. Jazzi held out her hand. “By the way, I’m Jazzi Zanders Herstad.”

  The woman grimaced. “I’m Felicity Kellman Smythe. I was one of Jessica’s best friends.”

  “I know. She mentions you in her journals.”

  Felicity’s eyes misted and she blinked away tears. “Look, I stopped here because I think Darcie got killed doing serious digging about what happened to Jessica. Those two were close, like sisters. They’d been tight since second grade. I live outside Merlot, but I met them in middle school. Someone murdered both of my best friends, and I want whoever it was caught and thrown behind bars to rot.”

  Jessica’s friends were passionate, Jazzi would give them that. “Darcie stopped here to talk to me before she died. She wanted to find out every person who was at the party and who they were with when Jessica died. That way, she could cross off people who couldn’t have pushed her.”

  “I was with RJ in the kitchen at the dessert table. I know his name came up a few times in the investigation, but he was with me. I’ll never forget Jessica’s scream. Never. Most of the others were outside. That’s where the food table was set up, and there was music. A few people even danced on the patio.”

  “Do you remember if Jessica’s dad was at the grill when she fell?”

  Felicity frowned and shook her head. “He was at the grill when I got to the party, but I don’t remember if he was there when she died.”