by Judi Lynn
“Really? How?”
He grinned. “The detective I talked to went to see Jessica’s father again, and this time, he expected to have answers. Either that or he told Mr. Hodgkill he’d start digging for them. He’d question everyone he knew or ever talked to until he could account for the man’s time.”
Jazzi gave him a fist bump. “Hooray for him! Did Jessica’s dad talk?”
“Oh, yeah, but he wasn’t one bit happy about it. He told our guy that he hadn’t been home that night and came into work late because he was with another woman.”
Ansel stared. “He’s been having an affair?”
“Nothing that nice. No, Hodgkill said he sleeps with young women off and on because they don’t expect anything to come of it. They’re happy enough if he buys them an expensive piece of jewelry; then he never has to see them again.”
Jerod made a face. “Does his wife know?”
“No. That’s why he wanted to keep it a secret. He said that he loves her, but she doesn’t meet all his needs. Basically, our guy said, she’s not twenty-two, so it’s not scintillating enough.”
Jazzi finished her stew and stood to bring the brownies to the table. “One of Jessica’s friends told me that Jessica’s dad leered at them all the time. He must have a thing for young women.”
Gaff snorted. “He wanted to have it all. His wife, all their money, and play time on the side. He said that he didn’t want Lorraine to know because he didn’t want the drama. But that blew up in his face. Our guy interviewed his one-night stand, and she didn’t appreciate having to explain herself to a cop, so she called Hodgkill’s wife. And then the crap hit the fan. Mrs. Hodgkill filed for divorce.”
Jazzi couldn’t believe it. “She put up with all the abuse he threw at Jessica, and now she wants a divorce because he cheated on her?”
“That was probably the last straw,” Ansel said.
“Hodgkill’s furious, because he used a lot of her money to invest in his business. Now she’s asking for half of everything.”
Jerod snickered. “What bothered him more, losing his wife or losing her money?”
Gaff looked pretty amused, too. “He’s going to miss them both. Rumor was that he invited anyone he needed to impress home for dinner, and everyone was charmed by Lorraine. People who didn’t want anything to do with him, liked her. She smoothed a lot of things over for him.”
As much as Jazzi loved the idea that Hodgkill had finally pushed too far, she thought about Jessica’s brother. “How’s Alwin taking it?”
Gaff buttered a piece of bread to sop up the stew’s last dregs. “I don’t know. Our guy didn’t interview him after news of the divorce. He’d done what he wanted to do: found evidence that proved Hodgkill didn’t kill Darcie.”
Of course. That would be all he was interested in. Jazzi felt sorry for Alwin, though. Would his dad make him choose between him or his mother? She could see Lamar doing that.
Gaff glanced at his watch. “Gotta go. I just thought you’d be interested in the news. And now you can mark Hodgkill off your suspect list.”
With reluctance. The man was a real scumbag. But it did narrow the list. She put a brownie in a bag and gave it to Gaff to eat later. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for lunch. And let me know if you hear anything.”
They all sat at the card table a while longer after Gaff left. “I don’t have one warm feeling for Hodgkill, but somehow, this news was still a little depressing,” Jazzi said.
Ansel and Jerod nodded. Jerod reached for another brownie. “I don’t feel sorry for Hodgkill, but I sure sympathize with his family.”
Ansel finished his soda, then shook himself. “I wonder what Lorraine will do once the divorce is final.”
“She’s a devoted mother. I can’t see her leaving Alwin on his own in Carolina.” Jazzi stood and tied back the scarf over her hair. “I’m going to start painting again. I don’t want to dwell on this.”
The men stood, too, but before they climbed the stairs to start work again, another car pulled into the drive. Fists pounded on the front door.
“What in tarnation?” Jerod went to yank it open. “What the heck do you want?”
A woman with really short brown hair and a lean, muscular build stalked inside the house. George raised his head and growled. Jazzi stared at him. George never growled at anyone. He liked people, but he must have sensed the antagonistic vibes rolling off whoever this was. She stopped, hands on hips, to look at all three of them, slanting a challenging glare at Jerod and Ansel.
“Lila called to tell me that some of Jessica’s squeaky-clean best friends stopped here to give you guys an earful. I don’t trust Jillian, Molly, or Felicity, so I came to set the record straight. I’m Nadia Ashton, and I hated Jessica’s guts, but I didn’t kill her. Ask your little Girl Scouts; they can tell you. I was on the back patio with half our class when Jessica hit the cement with a splat.”
Jazzi stepped forward, and George padded over to stand next to her. She’d have to give him an extra treat later. Ansel’s pug was doing his best to support and defend her. “Can you give me a specific name of someone who can vouch for you?”
“Lila was with me.”
Like Jazzi would believe either of them. “You both hated Jessica. I wouldn’t trust either of you. Is there someone else?”
Nadia’s lips twisted in a snarl. “I’m not sure. Someone should remember that we turned to give each other high fives when blood gushed from Jessica’s ears, nose, and mouth.”
Ansel’s hands curled into fists. “You hated her that much, just because she beat you, fair and square, at tennis?”
“Jessica had everything. Looks, money, brains, and guys gushing all over her. All I had were tennis and the hopes of that scholarship. She took that away from me.”
Jerod’s voice turned cold, with none of his usual laughter. “If you couldn’t beat a fellow student, you didn’t have much hope of going to state or getting a sports scholarship.”
“That shows what you know. Jessica was one of the best tennis players around. She’d always had private lessons, a personal trainer for a while. I had to work odd jobs to pay for any lessons I got, and my parents weren’t happy I spent my money on them.”
“Your parents didn’t support you?” Ansel asked.
“I don’t talk about them.”
Just as Jazzi suspected. A terrible home life. “So, you blamed Jessica instead.”
“She didn’t have to beat me.”
The woman wouldn’t let it go. “You wanted her to throw the match. Did you ask her to?”
“I wouldn’t stoop that low. No, if she was half as smart as everyone said she was, she would have known.”
“She didn’t.” Jazzi clasped her hands together, tempted to smack the girl. Why couldn’t she move on? “I’m reading her journals. She was surprised when you hated her so much for winning.”
Nadia sniffed. “That was her problem. She never thought about the rest of us, what it was like to struggle for money or be invisible at school. She even had to get better grades than I did.”
“But she did think about other people,” Jazzi said, defending her. “She sympathized with a lot of them. She just didn’t know you.”
“She didn’t try.”
Jerod looked like he wanted to shake her. “Is there a reason she should have? Did you make any attempt to be her friend?”
Nadia stared at him as if he were insane. “Why would I? She had her little clique.”
Jazzi was out of patience. She’d heard enough. “Molly Kroft already told me she’d seen you on the patio, so I’d already crossed you off as a possible suspect.”
“Then why did you ask me for an alibi?”
“I didn’t. I asked if there was someone who could vouch for you. Then I could eliminate another possible person who could have pushed Je
ssica.”
“Lila was with me. Molly probably didn’t mention her.”
Jazzi frowned, studying her. She got the distinct impression that Nadia was just as intent at providing an alibi for Lila as she was for herself. Had Lila called and gotten her so worked up that she’d barged in here, so angry and aggressive? “I’ll call Molly and ask about her.”
“You do that, but she’ll probably lie. She didn’t like Lila.” Nadia turned on her heel and slammed away.
When her car tore out of the drive, Ansel shook his head. “Some people can nurse a grudge for a lifetime.”
“I think Lila put her up to this.” Jazzi bent to pat George’s head. “Thanks, boy. You had my back.”
The pug looked happy with himself and returned to his dog bed.
Jerod glanced at his watch. “Let’s forget work today and call it a loss. Between Gaff’s news and meeting Nadia, I’m ready to go home.”
“Works for me.” Jazzi was going out with the girls tonight. She wouldn’t mind time to relax before she had to get ready.
They cleaned up their work messes, and when Jazzi packed the food to leave, she snuck George a few pieces of meat. Then Ansel carried George to the van. With a wave, they and Jerod went their separate ways. Jazzi called Molly Kroft once they left Merlot. She told her about Nadia’s visit and asked about Lila being on the patio.
“She’s right,” Molly said. “She was there, too. I remember now. They high fived each other when Jessica hit the cement.”
Nuts. Jazzi had had high hopes for Lila. But that confirmed, she texted Gaff that Molly and Lila could alibi each other. Then she sat back to relax. The sky was a deep blue today, with big, puffy white clouds. The temperature had climbed, too. She only needed a sweater to ward off the chill.
By the time Ansel reached Highway 24, the beautiful fall day had revived her. “It’s still early, so why don’t we make another stop at the party store to look for costumes? When I see Olivia, she’s going to ask me again if we have ours, and she’s going to give me grief for waiting till the last minute.”
“I love the party store,” Ansel told her. “Maybe we can even find a costume for George.”
Jazzi turned in her seat to look at the pug. Would he tolerate a costume? He was pretty low-key, and he loved attention. He might trot around the kitchen, thinking he was hot stuff. Would Inky and Marmalade like being Halloween cats? Who was she kidding? If she tried to put a costume on Inky, he’d never forgive her—if she lived through it.
When they entered the store and walked down the rows of costumes, Jazzi worried that they’d find anything to fit Ansel. Not too many men who were six five probably shopped here. And his tall, muscular build did limit their choices, but they found a black-and-white-striped prison outfit—a shirt and pants set with a hat—that would work.
“If I’m going to be a prisoner, you should share my jail cell,” he said.
She chose an orange prison jumpsuit. Not the most complementary color for her, but prison guards didn’t care about that, did they? Last, but not least, they found a devil’s outfit for George with horns, a pitchfork, and a pointed tail. Satisfied, they headed home.
She was grateful they’d made the stop when she walked into Henry’s on Broadway for girls’ night out. The first thing Olivia asked when she saw her was did you get a costume?
Jazzi grinned. “We even bought one for George.”
Didi laughed. “Gran’s making a superhero costume for River because she didn’t like the ones she saw in the stores.”
Gran had a thing for that little boy. She was always going out of her way to buy or fix him something. She was forever sneaking him extra dessert.
The waitress had already brought their drink orders when Elspeth slid into the last chair at the table wearing a huge smile. “Our house passed the inspection, and we get to move in two days before Thanksgiving.”
“Congratulations!” They waited for Elspeth to get her wine, then raised their glasses in a toast.
“Don’t expect to be invited over for a while,” she warned them. “It needs a lot of work, but we can’t wait to get started. Maybe by Easter, we’ll have a few walls knocked down and the kitchen and dining area will be big enough for everyone to eat at our place.”
That veered the talk to the party on Sunday. “What are you wearing?” Didi asked Olivia.
“I rented a barmaid’s dress like they wear in old TV Westerns, and Thane’s dressing like a cowboy.”
“I’m coming as a pumpkin,” Didi said. “It will go around my belly. And Walker’s wearing overalls and a straw hat to be a farmer.”
“And you?” Olivia asked Elspeth.
She smiled. “Radley and I are coming as aristocrats. I bought lots and lots of satin and lace, and I’ve been sewing like mad.”
“That’s a lot of work.” Didi reached for a breadstick. She was always hungry these days.
“You’re going to make the rest of us feel like peasants,” Jazzi teased.
Elspeth raised a hand, declaring, “Let them eat cake!”
The giggles and laughter just got better after that. By the time Jazzi returned home, she found Ansel in as high spirits as she was. He’d ordered in BBQ and sides from Shigs ’n Pits, and he and the guys had spent the night in the basement. They’d get tired of that eventually. Maybe. But they were enjoying it for now.
Before they went upstairs to bed, Jazzi went to the house plans Ansel had drawn and marked three xs on the back patio. Lila, Nadia, and Mr. Hodgkill at the grill. He couldn’t have killed Darcie, so she doubted he’d killed Jessica. Her list of nonsuspects was growing longer. Finally.
Chapter 34
On Friday, when they met at the Merlot house, they were all ready to finish the upstairs and be done with it. The men went straight to work on the small bathroom, and Jazzi dipped her brush into the white paint to start the edges of the rest of the bedroom ceilings. Once those were done, they could make quick work of the rest with their rollers.
They completed their projects before they broke for lunch. Jazzi had packed deli sandwiches, and they ate them quickly, returning to work as soon as possible. With all three of them painting, they finished the rooms before quitting time at five. Hurrying through cleanup, they tugged on hoodies and were walking to their vehicles when a black Lexus pulled into the driveway, blocking them.
A man in a powder-blue Polo golf shirt and crisp white pants walked toward them. He was probably five ten, in his early thirties, and thin. His build would have looked athletic except for his stooped shoulders and weak chin. His sandy hair was thinning and his nose was too large for his face. His pale blue eyes narrowed when he saw them. “Look here.” He tilted up his head at Jerod and Ansel and took a step back. “I drove here to take care of this problem myself.”
Jerod gazed down at him. “Okay, what’s the deal?”
Ruth Goggins had just come out of her house, looked over and saw them, and ran forward, gushing, “Alwin! What brings you home?”
Neither Ruth nor Alwin wore a sweater or jacket. It was warm for this late in October, but too chilly for shirtsleeves. Alwin didn’t seem to notice. He scowled at her. “Now, Ruthie, this is not my home. It holds no good memories for me. You should know that. And I’m here to warn these busybodies to stay out of my family’s lives.”
Ruth’s smile grew even wider. She gave Jazzi an I-told-you-so look. But Alwin didn’t notice. Instead, he stabbed his finger at Jazzi.
“Your interference has caused my mother to file for divorce.” His voice turned whiny. Jazzi gritted her teeth. She hated whining. “Do you know how much that will cost my father and our company?”
Jazzi stared at him. “That’s what’s important to you? Not solving your sister’s murder? Not that your father cheated on your mother?”
Ruth gasped. She turned to hear Alwin’s reply. But Jerod laughed at him. “Jazzi did
n’t cause their divorce. Your dad did. He can’t keep his pants zipped.”
Color suffused Alwin’s pale face. “My father makes important decisions every day. He’s under a lot of stress. Occasionally, he needs relief.”
“Some play golf or racquetball,” Ansel said. “They don’t bribe young girls to go to bed with them with expensive jewelry.”
Ruth’s eyes almost popped out of her head, but Jazzi wasn’t interested in arguing about Mr. Hodgkill. “No one cared about your father’s habits,” she told Alwin. “All anyone wanted to do was rule out people who couldn’t have killed Darcie Winters. If we find out who killed her, we’ll probably have the person who killed your sister.”
“My sister’s been dead a long time.” Alwin wrung his hands. “We’ve finally put that behind us. We don’t need to relive that day.” He glanced at the patio and hurriedly glanced away.
Jazzi put her hands on her hips. “Some people still want justice for her, even if you don’t. Darcie Winters was determined to find out who pushed her. That’s what got her killed, so someone obviously is still worried he’ll get caught.”
“Why a he?” Alwin countered. “Lots of people hated my sister.”
“You knew that and never did anything to defend her?” Jazzi had formed a different picture of this man from listening to Jessica’s friends. She’d thought he cared more about her.
“Of course I knew. Lila and Nadia made it obvious. And I tried to talk to her about it, but Jessica was strong and independent.” He shook his head. “She went at everything full throttle. She didn’t care if people were jealous of her. But more women resented her than men. Why do you think a man must have pushed her?”
“Because another woman was killed the same year Jessica died. That makes us think a man killed both of them.”
“I see. You don’t have absolute proof, though.”
“No. That’s why Darcie was trying to determine who was at Jessica’s graduation party and who they were with. That way, we can eliminate a lot of possible suspects. We’ve accounted for eight people so far.”
