The Body from the Past Page 3

  “Then we’re on the same page.” He looked relieved. He finally believed her.

  She finished her wine and took her glass to the sink. “Let’s hit the couches and watch some TV. Nothing serious. I’m ready to relax.”

  She didn’t have to ask twice. He and George followed her into the living room. She didn’t even glance at the hope chest against the wall. Jessica’s secrets had waited this long. They could wait for another day.

  Chapter 4

  As they reached the Merlot house for work the next day, Jerod pulled in behind them. He got out and hurried toward them to help carry things in. When Jazzi opened the back of the van and grabbed the cooler, Jerod frowned at it.

  “What did you bring today?”

  “It’s going up to the midseventies this afternoon—pretty warm—so I thought a big tossed salad and plenty of cans of soda might work best.”

  His whole face sagged with disappointment until he saw Ansel reach for the slow cooker Jazzi brought to keep things warm. Ansel motioned for Jerod to take it so he could carry George.

  Jerod grinned at her. “And soup?”

  She laughed. “Minestrone. I made plenty so you can take some home as leftovers.”

  He tossed the tool belts in the back of the van over an arm. “I know what you’re doing, and I appreciate it, but you don’t have to feed us. I can grill while Franny takes care of the kids.”

  She shrugged that off. “I know, but isn’t it nice to have something different sometimes?”

  “You know it. The kids are so tired of hamburgers and hot dogs, they cheer when I bring home pizza.”

  She tossed him a smug smile while they walked to the house. “When Ansel and I get around to having babies, you can grill for us. For now, we’ll make one-pot meals for you.”

  “Deal.”

  After they stashed the food in the kitchen, they set up ladders to start work on the roof. Shake shingles took longer to install than regular shingles. They’d probably be at it for the rest of the week. The house had two different levels—the main part with the entrance and a wing off it. But before they could start on the shakes, they had to tear off the old shingles.

  Tugging on work gloves and knee pads, they got to work, starting at the top of the peak and working their way down. They’d rented a dumpster and put down drop cloths to toss the old shingles in, but it was easy to miss and have stray nails fall in flower beds close to the foundation or on the patio. And even in October, when the air was cooler, they got hot and sweaty.

  By the time the sun was directly overhead, their T-shirts stuck to their skin and their arms and faces were smeared with grime. Jazzi glanced at George, lying in the grass under a shade tree in the backyard, and grumbled. Ansel’s dog had it made.

  They started down the ladder to the back patio, Jazzi first, the guys following. She always took that opportunity to turn to stare at Ansel’s butt. It was worth a moment of homage. Her husband caught her and grinned. When Jerod joined them, they trudged inside, Ansel holding the door for George, then they went to wash up.

  She knew the men would have big appetites after roofing, so she’d brought rounds of crusty bread to have with the soup and salad. A good thing, or Jerod might not have had any leftovers to take home. As it was, each man had two brimming bowls, and there was only enough left for one supper for Jerod, Franny, and the three kids.

  Once they cleaned up after lunch, they headed back outside. George went back to his soft grass, and they took a few minutes to rake nails out of the beds and sweep them into a dustbin to throw away. Before they could climb the ladder again, the woman who lived next door came to peek over the short stone wall that separated the two yards.

  “Hello?” she called. “Are you the new people who bought the Hodgkill house?”

  The men hurried up the ladder, leaving Jazzi to answer her. Jazzi walked closer so they wouldn’t have to yell back and forth. “Hi, I’m Jazzi. My cousin, husband, and I bought the house as a fixer-upper.”

  The woman bit her bottom lip, disappointed. She wore her graying hair short, curled, and sprayed until it looked lacquered. She wore gardening gloves and a crisp cotton shirt and creased capri pants. To work in. “You’re not moving in?”

  “Sorry, no. We’re renovating it to sell.”

  “I hope someone nice buys it.” She gave the back kitchen door a sad glance. “I’m Ruth Goggins. Madeline used to invite my husband and me over for lots of dinner parties. I suppose the next owners won’t entertain the way she did.”

  “This house was made for big parties,” Jazzi said. “Just like ours. And it has the same English cottage feel.”

  Her mother complained when she used that term. “Cottage makes me think of something small. Your house is bigger than ours.”

  But its rolled roof and eyebrow over the front window made Jazzi think of something she’d see in an Agatha Christie TV movie. The kitchen, combined with the dining room and sitting area, gave them plenty of space for lots of guests. And they needed it. Their Sunday family meals had grown to include twenty people most weeks. But they didn’t regret that. It was their way of keeping in touch with everyone. This house would accommodate lots of people, too.

  She returned her attention to the neighbor. “Madeline entertained a lot, didn’t she?”

  Ruth sighed, nodding. “She was such a nice person. Not like that awful girl, Jessica Hodgkill. Do you know, she had the nerve to break up with my nephew just before their senior prom? They’d been dating most of that year, and then, just like that, she was done with him. Went to the prom with the Dunlap boy, the older brother. He did the world a favor when he pushed her off the balcony.”

  Jazzi couldn’t hide her shock. “You don’t mean that.”

  Ruth arched an eyebrow. “Don’t I? You didn’t know the girl. Always so pretty, so perfect. I got pretty sick of hearing her mother brag about her.”

  Jazzi tried to steer the conversation to something happier. “Most mothers do that, don’t they?”

  “They’re partial, of course,” Ruth admitted. “But Jessica just had to beat everyone at everything she did. She had to be the best. Even her own father got tired of it.”

  Jazzi figured most fathers would brag more than their wives, but everyone was different.

  Ruth covered her eyes with her hand to block the sun and studied the men on the roof. “You three are taking on a big job. We had a new roof put on our house three years ago, and it took the work crew two and a half days.”

  “It will take us longer,” Jazzi said. “We plan to put up fake shake shingles.”

  The arched eyebrow rose again. “I see. Regular shingles aren’t good enough for you?”

  Jazzi wasn’t about to be intimidated. “No. This house is special, so we wanted something special for the roof.”

  “And our house isn’t special?”

  Jazzi studied it. “Your house is lovely, as is.”

  Slightly mollified, Ruth sniffed. “This is Merlot’s premium neighborhood. Doctors and professors live here. We keep up our yards and houses.”

  Jazzi glanced at Ruth’s gardening gloves. “Your yard is lovely, too. I’d better scramble up the ladder now to help the guys work. It was nice meeting you.”

  “You’re not going to sell the house cheap, are you, like the Hodgkills did to get rid of it fast? Or like Madeline? Who knows who’d move in if the price was too low.”

  Jazzi forced a smile. If she had to spend much time with this woman, she’d have problems. “We try to buy low and sell higher to make money.”

  “Good. Maybe we’ll get decent neighbors.” Ruth turned to start work on her yard, and Jazzi escaped to climb the ladder and get away from her.

  When she told the guys about their conversation, Jerod snorted. “Maybe we should invite all the neighbors over when we finish the house to give them a walk-through. You could cook up som
e of your fancy party stuff. Maybe that would make her happy.”

  Ansel grunted and laid down his crowbar. “I don’t care if she’s happy or not.”

  “Neither do I.” Jazzi scooted down on the roof to start work on a new row of shingles. “She sure didn’t have anything nice to say about Jessica.”

  “Sounds like sour grapes to me.” Ansel scooted down next to her. One more row of shingles gone. “She must have had a kid who Jessica left in her dust.”

  Jazzi’s thoughts exactly. Ruth Goggins didn’t like to come in second.

  Chapter 5

  When they finished for the day and drove home, Jazzi and Ansel spent more time than usual playing with the pets because they’d be leaving again soon. They weren’t excited about going to Leesa and Brett’s for supper. Usually, Ansel took George everywhere with him, but Brett was allergic to dogs. Finally, they had to hurry upstairs for quick showers before changing into nicer clothes.

  “George isn’t going to like this,” Ansel complained.

  Jazzi rolled her eyes. “Some dogs stay in crates all day while their owners are at work. And they still feel loved and survive.”

  Ansel frowned, but didn’t comment.

  Jazzi wore casual black slacks and a lightweight, red sweater that hugged her curves. Ansel gave a low, appreciative whistle when he saw her. He wore dress casual, too—Dockers with a button-down, royal-blue shirt. The color brought out the sky blue of his eyes. Brett must wear jeans around the house, but they’d never seen him in them. But then, they hardly ever went to their house for supper. They usually met them to eat out.

  When they pulled into their drive, a black SUV with tinted windows was already parked by the three-car garage. Leesa’s saltbox house was in a subdivision on the northeast side of River Bluffs, with all the central houses built around a man-made lake. The lake wasn’t for swimming, with its steep drop-offs at the edges, but it made for a pretty view. The inside and outside of the house were very formal.

  Leesa called to them from the garage. Four months pregnant, she was just beginning to show. As usual, she’d pulled her mahogany-colored hair into a bun at the back of her head, and tonight, she was wearing a long skirt and a loose top. “Come in this way. It’s easier.” She led them into a kitchen and family room combination. “Brett’s brother’s already here. I’ll introduce you.”

  Damian was taller than his brother, but they shared the same sharp features and dark coloring. His wife, Kelsey, was shorter than Jazzi and on the plump side. She had streaked blond hair and a round, open face. The term “cute as a button” came to mind.

  In slacks and a Polo shirt like his brother, Brett motioned for everyone to move to the dining room. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  He served wine and beer all around, and water for Leesa, then went to help his wife carry two mustard-glazed pork tenderloins with roasted vegetables and a tossed salad to the table. Ansel gave Jazzi a glance at the simple, straightforward food. She half smiled. The man was definitely spoiled.

  Brett steered the conversation to small talk as they ate.

  Jazzi speared a baby potato. “What does Riley think about being a big brother? Is he excited?”

  “Where is he anyway?” Ansel asked, glancing around the room.

  “My parents are keeping him tonight,” Brett said. “We didn’t want him to overhear anything.”

  That was a bit of a downer. Neither Ansel nor she were looking forward to what was coming, but Jazzi returned to her original question. “Is he excited about the new baby?”

  Leesa’s eyes sparkled with pride. “He’s going through his toy box to find things he’s outgrown that he thinks his new sister might like.”

  “Sister?” Leesa was going to have a girl?

  Leesa’s whole face lit up. “I’m going to have a daughter.”

  “I get to go shopping with you to buy baby things,” Jazzi said. “They have such cute clothes for girls.”

  Ansel shook his head. “We guys get a bum deal.”

  “Oh, please, most boys don’t care about clothes until they want to impress someone,” Jazzi said. “And usually it’s a girl. But once you’re very old, the toys you want are expensive—video games, stereo systems, and sports crap.”

  Damian laughed. “She has a point. We like our gadgets.”

  “All kids are expensive,” Kelsey said. “My sister and her husband are always investing in something for theirs, and they have one of each, too.”

  Ansel glanced at Damian. “Do you have any kids?”

  “Not yet, but we’re going to start trying. We’ve let our jobs take up too much time. We need to find more balance in our lives.”

  Ansel reached for a second helping of the pork. “I know Brett’s a financial analyst. Do you work with finances, too?”

  “In a way. I’m an accountant for a big manufacturing company. Kelsey’s a nurse.”

  They spent some time talking about their careers until Leesa and Brett cleared the table and Leesa carried a store-bought cake in for dessert. Ansel grinned. Her Viking liked almost any dessert.

  When Brett cleared the table for the last time, he refilled their drinks, and then he turned to his brother. “Do you want to explain about Jessica and the aftermath?”

  “Jessica’s death was a nightmare.” Damian scrubbed a hand through his thick, black hair. “I took her to the senior prom, then a few days later, she went out with some other guy. That got the whole school buzzing. People thought I’d be devastated, but Jessica did it to be nice to me. She didn’t want me to look like a cad. I only went to the prom with her because Kelsey and I had had a fight, and Kelsey broke up with me. She and a girlfriend who didn’t have a date decided to go together. I wanted to show her I didn’t care, so when Jessica broke up with RJ Goggins, which nobody saw coming, I asked her out. But I was miserable. I wanted to be with Kelsey, and Jessica could tell. She told me to make up with Kelsey or I’d regret it. And she said she’d make it easy for me. But neither of us thought it would be such a big deal.”

  Brett listened to his brother and grimaced. “Our friends knew the whole story, but Lila Mattock spread the word that Damian was a horrible date and a worse kisser, so Jessica got rid of him as fast as she could, and then Damian had to crawl back to Kelsey.”

  Jazzi pursed her lips. “Did this Lila have a grudge against Damian?”

  “She had a crush on him for years,” Kelsey said, “but she’s a mean, little viper. Damian didn’t want anything to do with her.”

  “So she was jealous,” Jazzi said.

  “Itching for a smear campaign,” Kelsey agreed. “But Lila hated Jessica just as much. They’d competed against each other from grade school on. Lila did all she could to make better grades and bag hotter boyfriends than Jessica, but it usually backfired.”

  “Did the police suspect her when Jessica was pushed?” Jazzi asked.

  Damian nodded. “Her name was on the list, along with mine. So was Kelsey’s. There was a girl on the tennis team they suspected, too. Nadia Ashton was trying for a sports scholarship but lost it when Jessica beat her in a match and won the tournament instead.”

  Ansel gave a grunt of surprise. “It’s not Jessica’s fault she played better than Nadia.”

  “Nadia didn’t see it that way.” Damian leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “She thought Jessica should have thrown the match because she needed the scholarship to attend college and Jessica had all the money she’d ever needed.”

  Leesa shook her head, a sad expression on her face. “It sounds like Nadia was desperate. It’s easy to blame the haves when you’re a have-not.”

  “But would Nadia kill someone for winning in tennis? None of you sound like you had strong enough motives to me.” Jazzi wasn’t buying it.

  Damian shrugged. “The detective didn’t seem to think anyone planned to kill her. He made it
sound like someone argued with her at the party, got mad, and pushed her. I have to agree. I can’t believe someone killed her on purpose.”

  “Accidental death.” Brett had been ticking off suspects on his fingers. Now, he said, “They questioned RJ’s aunt, too. She was Jessica’s neighbor. She couldn’t get over Jessica dumping her nephew to go to the prom with Damian. She spread rumors all over town, even making up stuff when she had to.”

  Damian put his head in his hands a moment, looking overcome, before rallying. “I finally couldn’t take it anymore. The police couldn’t prove I was guilty, but I couldn’t prove I was innocent. I’d planned on going to college in town and living at home, but everywhere I went, people gawked at me and whispered. Some even pointed and said, ‘There’s the guy who got away with murder.’ I applied for a scholarship in Illinois just to get away from the rumors. To this day, when I return home, the gossip mill starts up again.”

  Kelsey nodded. “I went to school in River Bluffs, then moved to Illinois when I got my nursing degree. I got a job there, and we got married in Damian’s third year of college.”

  Damian glanced at his brother. “Brett always stood up for me, and it cost him some friends. But the pressure got to him, too, and he moved here after he graduated.”

  Brett let out a sigh of frustration and turned to Jazzi and Ansel. “I know you’re close to Detective Gaff. This is an old case, but could you look in to it? See if you can find anything to prove Damian didn’t do it? Maybe then we could visit our parents and family in peace.”

  Jazzi didn’t answer. She looked at Ansel. She’d pledged no more dead bodies when she’d found the hope chest.

  He took a long breath, then nodded. “We’ll do our best, but don’t get your hopes up. We don’t know anyone involved, and Gaff has no authority in Merlot.”