The Body in the Gravel Page 8

  He laughed. “Nothing can make you look bad, but if that’s all it is, Jerod and I will work on the fixer-upper on Monday, and you can go to find a dress. Your Mom and Olivia have Mondays off.”

  Their drinks came, along with a large slice of chocolate cake that they’d share. Jazzi dipped her fork into the rich dessert and took a nibble. “Wow, this is good.”

  “Will Monday work for you?” Ansel asked.

  “It’s perfect, and I’ll try to look like a beautiful bride.”

  “You won’t have to work at it.” He took a bite of the cake, too. “You’re delectable, just like this dessert.”

  He meant it, too. The man was delusional, but she loved that about him. Then she frowned. “Gaff might call me to go with him to see Darby’s housekeeper.”

  “No problem; we’ll work around it.”

  That made her smile. Every girl wanted to interrogate someone before trying on wedding dresses. Just her luck.

  Chapter 16

  Jazzi and Ansel woke up early enough on Saturday morning that they booted the pets out of the room for some couple time, then showered before they went downstairs. After feeding their furry beasts, they drove to Jerod’s house. It was a crappy day—dark gray clouds, a stiff breeze, and occasional rain. Thankfully, they were working inside.

  October weather in Indiana was known to bounce from mild to dismal in days. They’d been lucky so far at the fixer-upper. That’s why they were trying to get all of the outside work done while the weather was tolerable. If it rained, they could start a project inside and then finish outdoors once the sun shone again. Cement was pickier, though. Jazzi hoped Gaff would give them permission to work on the driveway soon.

  George didn’t like nippy weather, so Ansel had to carry him into Jerod’s house. Gunther and Lizzie came running and squealing when they saw Jazzi’s Viking. He put down the pug, picked them up, and held them upside down by their ankles as they giggled and twisted. Jerod laughed at them before shooing them away.

  “We have a late start today, and we have to get busy, or you won’t have a new playroom.”

  They must have wanted the basement to be finished, because they turned to leave when Franny called them into the kitchen. “If you finished your snacks, throw your paper plates away.”

  Ansel turned his head to hide a grimace. The man wasn’t a fan of paper plates.

  Jerod gave a smug smile. “Just wait till you have kids. Doing dishes several times a day isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Paper will start looking like a godsend.”

  Ansel frowned, clearly unsure whether to believe him. “Kids are that much work?”

  Jerod shook his head. “Grasshopper, you have much to learn.”

  They started down the steps to the basement, staple guns in hand. The first job was to install a moisture barrier. They were working together, so that went more quickly than Jazzi expected. Next, they started building the frame for the drywall. For that, they brought out the big artillery—their nail guns. While Jerod sawed the two-by-sixes to the proper length, she and Ansel nailed them in place. Sawdust flew in the air, adding to the musty basement smell. The whine of the saw biting into wood drowned out most conversation.

  They finished one long wall before Jazzi glanced at her watch. She was surprised to see that it was almost one. No wonder she was getting hungry. She held up a hand, and when the sawing and pounding ceased, she said, “Ansel and I are ordering four pizzas for lunch. We want to treat the kids and make life easier for Franny.”

  “You just don’t want Franny to cook something for you,” Jerod said.

  Ansel shrugged. “There’s that, too.” The man had no tact when it came to food. He took it seriously.

  With a laugh, Jerod nodded. “I won’t argue with you, but I bought deli meat to make sandwiches.”

  That was so sweet of him. Jazzi shook her head, though. “You can have that some other time, but we really do want to treat the kids. What kind of pizzas do you guys like?”

  She ended up calling in an order for delivery for one large cheese pizza, the kids’ favorite, a thin crust supreme for her and Franny, and two meat lovers’ pizzas, one for Jerod and one for Ansel. They went back to work for the twenty minutes before the delivery guy knocked on Jerod’s door.

  Franny broke into a grin as Ansel paid and tipped him. “You didn’t have to buy our lunch, but thank you.”

  Ansel glanced at Gunther and Lizzie. “Someone told us the kids like pizza.”

  “We do!” Gunther cried, jumping up and down. “It’s our favorite.”

  “Good. Let’s dig in.” Ansel watched Franny carry paper plates to the table and pinched his lips together. Good man. He didn’t say a peep.

  Over lunch, Franny said, “You won’t believe the story my mom told me when I saw her this week. She works part-time as a produce person at the grocery store, remember?”

  Jazzi nodded. Franny and her mom were close. They called each other a few times a week and got together a few times a month. “What happened?”

  “Two weeks ago, Mom was stocking the big center displays when a couple of older men started arguing with each other, and pretty soon, they were pushing and punching and knocking all the oranges and apples onto the floor. Mom had to call for help, and the manager walked the men out of the store and told them never to come back.”

  “Old men went at it like that?” Jazzi reached for another slice of pizza. “You’d think they’d know better.”

  “Not these two. Mom said the one had a mustache and sideburns she’d never seen before except on the cartoon version of Yosemite Sam.”

  Jazzi couldn’t believe it. “That sounds like Darby, the dead guy we found in our gravel.”

  “What did the man look like who was fighting with him?” Ansel asked.

  “Long gray whiskers. Mom said his beard was big and bushy.”

  Jazzi stared. “Earl said Darby’s best friend was called Whiskers.”

  Jerod went to the refrigerator for another beer. He brought one back for Ansel, too. “Sounds like Darby was arguing with everybody lately. Something must have gotten his dander up.”

  “He argued enough to make somebody so mad he…,” Jazzi stumbled to a stop. Two kids were hanging on her every word.

  Franny looked at the pizza crusts on Gunther and Lizzie’s plates and the three slices left in the box. “If you’ve had enough to eat, you’re excused. I’ll save the rest for later.”

  The kids ran off to watch TV. Franny leaned back in her chair and laid her hands on the round of her stomach. “Has Detective Gaff talked with this Whiskers?”

  Jazzi shook her head. “No one knows his real name. None of the drivers know where he lives either.”

  Franny was beginning to look uncomfortable. She glanced down at her feet. “Thanks for the lunch, but I need to put my feet up. My ankles are swelling.”

  Jerod stood and came around the table to help her up. When she pushed out of her chair, her hand moved to the small of her back. “You okay?” he asked.

  “Just part of being pregnant.” Franny started toward the couch, and they returned to their work in the basement. By the time they left at five, three sides of the basement were framed.

  “I can finish the last wall,” Jerod said. “And I’ll buy drywall for next Saturday.”

  As they started up the stairs to leave, Jazzi called, “See you tomorrow at our place!”

  “What’s on the menu?” Jerod was pretty serious about food, too, when his wife wasn’t cooking it.

  “A cassoulet and apple crostatas.”

  “What are those?”

  Jazzi rolled her eyes. Maybe Jerod wasn’t that serious, after all. “A cassoulet’s a white bean dish with chicken, lamb, and sausages.” Actually, she usually cooked duck instead of chicken, but there were going to be fifteen people tomorrow if Walker came. She’d decided to budget
a bit. “A crostata’s just a rustic pie with the bottom sides rolled up and over the apples instead of a top crust.”

  Jerod licked his lips. “I like beans. Sounds good. See you then.”

  Ansel carted George to the back seat of his van. On the drive home, Jazzi said, “Can you believe two old guys brawling in a grocery store?”

  “Some people get worse with age,” Ansel told her. “But if Whiskers was willing to throw punches in the produce aisle, who’s to say he wouldn’t lose his temper and hit Darby in the head with a shovel?”

  Jazzi had thought about that, too. “There has to be a way to find Whiskers. They were drinking buddies. They must have had a favorite bar.”

  Ansel chuckled. “Do you know how many bars there are in River Bluffs?”

  “Almost as many as the number of churches?”

  “Maybe more. Too many to go door to door, that’s for sure. But if you’re up for it, I’ll volunteer to do a bar crawl with you on the south side of the city.”

  She snorted. “We wouldn’t be able to walk after the sixth or seventh one.”

  “Shows what you know. You just don’t hold your liquor well.”

  “And that’s a good thing. Then I’m not tempted to drink a keg by myself.”

  He laughed. “I wasn’t alone when we finished it. I had friends. Jerod was there, too. Maybe we should buy some classy wine for tonight. What’s for supper?”

  “Sirloin tips over buttered noodles. A can of green beans. That’s fast.”

  “And delicious. Yup, it’s a red wine night, for sure.”

  When he stopped to run into the liquor store, her thoughts returned to Darby and Whiskers. She’d gotten the impression they were longtime, good friends. What had gotten in the way of that? Or did they enjoy fighting and brawling with each other? No, she felt like Darby had been building up pressure for some reason and was as ready to blow as an active volcano. Whoever had been with him when he spewed hadn’t taken it well. And a shovel must have been handy.

  Chapter 17

  Jazzi sipped her morning coffee while sautéing cut-up sausage links on the stove. A cassoulet took a few hours to make, so instead of her usual Sunday morning routine, she started it right after she fed the cats and George. Ansel, bless him, was cutting a boneless lamb roast into cubes. He tossed them in a bowl with olive oil; when he finished, he sprinkled them with salt and pepper. Jazzi had sautéed the chicken breasts by the time he finished.

  “Walker told Thane he was coming, didn’t he?” Ansel asked as he went for another cup of coffee.

  “Yeah, I think he’s going to be a regular from now on.” She was making it easy for herself and had bought eight cans of northern beans. Ansel opened them and drained them while Jazzi started browning the lamb cubes. Once seared, she added chicken broth and red wine to the pan and put them in the oven. In an hour or more, they’d be tender.

  Ansel refilled her coffee cup, too. “If we keep adding people to our family, we’re going to have to buy another portable table.” They already had one that they put next to their long farm table.

  “We’re just gearing up. Wait till we add more kids to the mix.” She chopped onions and garlic to add to the diced tomatoes and beans. Seasonings came next.

  Those finished, she pushed the big roasting pan aside to wait for the lamb while she and Ansel started making the crostata. Usually, she made desserts a day ahead, but she hadn’t been in the mood after they got home from Jerod’s house.

  When she put the desserts in the oven, she ran a critical eye over the house. It hadn’t been dusted.

  “It looks good to me,” Ansel told her. “If anyone runs a white glove over a shelf, he’s come to the wrong place.”

  She smiled and shrugged. He was right. The meal was about getting together, not trying to impress anyone. She and Ansel had an hour to relax, so they flopped on the couches across from each other to read the morning paper and enjoy the last of the coffee.

  Jerod, Franny, and the kids were the first to arrive, as usual. Franny pinched her lips, embarrassed, and said, “I forgot to buy anything for the vegetable tray. Do you have enough food without it?”

  “No worries.” Jazzi hugged her and led her into the kitchen. She always tried to serve snacks while people had their drinks, and Franny’s eyes lit up when she saw a cheese ball and crackers.

  Jerod’s parents, Eli and Eleanore, came next. They joined Jerod and Franny at the kitchen island and teased Gunther and Lizzie for choosing slices of American cheese on saltine crackers instead of going for the fancy stuff.

  Next came Jazzi’s mom and dad. Ansel went to greet them. “Hi, Cyn. Doogie.” He and her parents got along well.

  Her dad slapped him on the shoulder. “You still have time to run, boy. She hasn’t bought a dress yet.”

  Her mom patted his arm. “Don’t you worry. We’re going to remedy that. We won’t let her marry you in jeans and a T-shirt.”

  Ansel laughed. “Doesn’t matter, as long as she marries me.”

  “Not gonna happen. I’m going to see my daughter dressed up for once.” Jazzi’s dad came to hug her and hand her two bottles of wine before stuffing cash in the jar to donate to the meal. Jazzi knew she’d spent more than she should have this time, but she didn’t care if she went over the usual amount and had to put in extra.

  Thane and Olivia arrived with Walker. They introduced him and explained that he’d recently lost his father. Everyone went to greet him and make him feel welcome. The last to arrive were Gran and Samantha. When her husband had died, Samantha had moved in with Gran, and it had been a blessing for both of them.

  Jazzi poured a glass of red wine for Gran and took it to her. Her Granny liked a drink before and after dinner. Gran took a sip and smiled. “Good stuff.”

  “Ansel picked it out.”

  “Your boy has good taste.” Gran sipped again, then narrowed her eyes at Walker. She raised her voice. “Your father was really ashamed of himself for driving you and your mother away.”

  Walker stared at her, stunned. “How do you know?”

  Gran’s focus turned vague, and she tapped the side of her head. “Sometimes I see things.”

  Thane nodded. “She does. We can’t explain it, but she’s always right.”

  Gran’s attention returned to her wine. “Did I see a cheese ball on the buffet?”

  With a nod, Jazzi went to fetch her a snack.

  People drank and munched until the buzzer on the oven rang. Jazzi went to take the cassoulet out of the oven, and Ansel said, “Ready to eat?”

  People got in line to serve themselves while Ansel carried the salad and dressings to the island. Jazzi placed the hot cassoulet on a heavy trivet farther down.

  Everyone settled into their usual places, and Walker took a seat next to Thane. No one talked for a few minutes while they started their meals. Walker looked at Jazzi and said, “I’ve never had anything like this before. My mom made bean soup, but nothing like this. It’s delicious.”

  “Jazzi likes to cook.” Franny’s voice was filled with pride.

  That was one of the reasons Jazzi loved Jerod’s wife. She was as happy with other peoples’ achievements as she was with her own.

  Ansel turned to Walker. “How’s it going with your dad’s business? Thane said he left it in a mess.”

  Walker laid down his fork and wiped his lips with a napkin. “It’s the darnedest thing. The business is already starting to pick up, but it’s going to take a while before it’s as successful as it used to be. I found a wad of money rolled up with a rubber band in Dad’s desk drawer, though. A lot of money.”

  “A hundred and fifty thousand?” Jerod asked. “Because Darby came to look through the house we’re working on and told us that he’d saved some money and was thinking about flipping houses during the slow months for cement work.”

  Walker frowned. “H
e saved it? How? I’m worried I’m going to have enough start-up cash after the slow season. I talked to Dad’s lawyer, and he didn’t have any idea where it came from.”

  Thane snorted. “Knowing your dad, he might have stuffed money under his mattress all these years. He didn’t trust anyone, not even bankers.”

  “I’m going to go back through the books to see if I notice anything I missed before. When I told Gaff, he looked into Dad’s bank account, but he couldn’t find anything either.”

  Jerod got up to go to the kitchen island for seconds. “Anyone else want more?”

  Walker nodded and stood to follow him. Frowning, he said, “Dad must have been worried about money, too, if he was thinking of doing a fixer-upper.”

  Gran sipped the last of her wine. “Your dad has a lot to be ashamed of. He treated the people who mattered the most to him poorly.”

  “And the person it hurt the most was himself.” Walker shook his head, then smiled. “But I’m having the best meal of my life with friends who mean a lot to me, and I intend to enjoy it.”

  Conversation flowed again, and Ansel reached over to put his hand on Jazzi’s knee and squeeze it gently. “You were right,” he said quietly. “Walker needs a family, and who’s better than we are?”

  Who indeed? The man had been through some rough times, and she suspected he was going to go through a few more. He’d need them.

  Chapter 18

  On Monday, they started roofing the main house. They could put the tin over the existing shingles since the plywood base was solid. Jerod figured with the three of them working together, they could finish that and install new gutters.

  Before climbing a ladder to get to work, Jazzi studied the front of the house.

  “I know that look.” Jerod sighed. “What are you thinking?”

  “We need to paint the front door. Maybe red to match the roof. The mustard yellow doesn’t stand out.”

  “A deep blue or green would work, too,” Ansel said.

  They voted on forest green. “But first the roof, then the paint,” Jerod told them.