The Body in the Apartment

by Judi Lynn

  “Pete wakes up every three hours and takes an hour to suck down his bottle. Doesn’t leave much room for sleep.”

  Jazzi made a mental note. If and when she had a baby, bottles were the way to go, then Ansel could get up for feedings, too.

  Ansel frowned. “I thought Franny was going to nurse.”

  “She is,” Jerod said, “but she makes enough milk that we bottle some, so I can give her a break when she’s dragging.”

  Jazzi studied him. He looked like he could win a walking dead contest. Her cousin was a good man, determined to do his fair share with the baby. “Gaff’s coming for me at ten,” she told him. “He’s found three more suspects to interview, maybe four if he counts Donovan’s ex-girlfriend.”

  Ansel filled Jerod in.

  Jerod grinned at Bain. “Looks like you’re moving farther down the list. That’s a good thing, right?”

  “I hope I get crossed off soon and can go home.”

  “And leave all this fun? Who else shows you a good time renovating like we do?”

  Bain studied the house. “I like this place. It has character.”

  “You should drive back to see it when it’s done,” Jerod told him. “It’s going to be a beauty.”

  “Not gonna happen.” Bain drained his cup. “Spring and summer are extra busy on the farm. I won’t be able to get away.”

  The way he said it made Jazzi think he’d consider returning to look at the house if he could. They finished their coffee and got busy again. By the time Gaff knocked on the door, one wall was smooth.

  Jazzi usually heard the detective pull in, but she’d missed it with all the sanding noise. She took off her baseball cap and slapped it against her jeans. Dust went everywhere. She brushed herself off, then got her heavy coat and went out to meet him.

  Once they were heading into town, Gaff said, “With the walls knocked out in your fixer-upper, it looks a lot bigger. You guys take rundown houses and make them into something special.”

  She smiled. “Thanks. That’s the plan.” The more Gaff saw their remodeling, the more interested he got in it.

  “What are you going to paint the exterior?”

  “My friend Reuben’s going to help us pick out colors. He’s a designer and has a special love for Victorians.”

  “He’s the guy who bought the house in West Central where you used to rent, right?”

  “I only had the bottom floor. He rented the top.”

  “And now the house is lavender. Are you sure you want him to help pick colors?”

  She laughed. “I think the lavender’s pretty, but Ansel won’t go for anything too out there. Neither will Jerod.”

  “Good.” Gaff turned onto Creighton Avenue and headed to the section of town people read about in the paper every Monday morning—lots of gunshots and dead bodies each weekend.

  Jazzi frowned. “Ronnie’s grandma lives over here?”

  “Her place is a few blocks from Pontiac. Ronnie claims it’s pretty quiet.”

  “I hope so.”

  Gaff pulled in front of a cement block two story. The gray rippled blocks had never been painted. They looked strong and solid. The screened porch door was open, so they entered the airy room to knock on the front door. A small withered woman with crinkly gray hair opened it and motioned them inside. She was so bent and tiny, Jazzi wanted to slide an arm under her to support her, but the woman cracked a smile and moved spryly to a velveteen sofa. She nodded for them to take the two chairs across from it.

  “You’re here about my Ronnie.” Bright dark eyes studied them.

  Gaff looked around the room. “He said that he’d meet us here while we talked to you.”

  “Boy got in late last night. Got home from washin’ dishes about one in the mornin’, then stayed up playing on that game box of his half the night.”

  Gaff gestured to Jazzi. “This is Jazzi. Ronnie asked if she’d be here when we visited you.”

  “A nice lookin’ girl. Nice o’ you to come. S’pose you want to know about my grandson.”

  When Gaff took out his notepad and pen, she said, “His mama left the boy with me when he was just a baby. Took off with some guy. I’ve raised him ever since. He was a good boy, never got in trouble, till he fell in with the wrong crowd in high school. Ain’t been nothin’ but trouble ever since.”

  “Are those the men he went to prison with?” Gaff asked.

  “This last time. Been a few short trips before that.” She shook her head. “Not sure what his mama took when he was inside her, but he didn’t come out smart enough to get a good job. Not attractive enough to catch a good girl either. He swears this time he learned his lesson, though. Swore he wouldn’t cross the law again. Says if he has to wash dishes for the rest o’ his life, at least he’ll be in this house with me and get plenty o’ love.”

  Gaff raised an eyebrow. “Do you believe him?”

  She cocked her head to one side and pursed her lips. “He means it for now. He’ll get the house when I’m gone. At least he’ll have a roof over his head if he wants one.”

  “I need to talk to him,” Gaff said. “Mind if I go upstairs and wake him up?”

  “I’ll get him. He’s a might grouchy at first. No need for you to see him like that.” She grabbed the stair railing to make her way to the second floor. A short while later, she returned with a man in his early thirties, a couple of inches taller than Jazzi, with lank, drab brown hair, colorless eyes, and a flat face. He had a weak chin.

  Gaff poised his pen above his notepad. “I came to ask you who helped you rob the drugstore that sent you to prison.”

  Ronnie sagged onto the other side of the sofa and leveled a look at Gaff. “You already looked it up, but I’ll tell ya anyway. Gil drove the getaway car. Me, Jarrett, and Boscoe went inside. Boscoe kept gettin’ in fights in prison, or he’d have got out with Jarrett and me. Gil got knifed. I don’t ever wanna go back to the big house again.”

  A car backfired outside and Ronnie jumped. So did Jazzi and Gaff.

  Grandma frowned. “Did something happen?”

  “It’s fine, Granny.” He shook his head at them. “Going deaf. Can’t see too well either. Glad I came back to keep an eye on her.”

  Gaff asked him about other robberies he committed.

  “Small time stuff. In and outta old peoples’ windows. Stole a car once for a joyride. Nothin’ big.”

  “What made you decide to try something bigger?” Gaff asked.

  “Jarrett thought we was ready. We was, too, but we both think someone snitched on us. Jarrett’s pretty sure he knows who.”

  “Care to share?”

  Ronnie shrugged. “I ain’t got a clue. Not sure Jarrett’s right either.”

  Gaff looked up from his notes. “You must have some idea who killed Gil.”

  His grandma put her hand to her throat. “Gil’s dead?”

  Ronnie pressed his lips together. “He died in prison, Granny.”

  She shook her head. “That poor boy, he was always nice to you.”

  “Sure was. He and this big guy got into it in the workroom when they were on laundry duty. The guy told Gil that I wasn’t pullin’ my weight, that maybe I needed a little extra motivation, but Gil said no one touched me, or they’d regret it.”

  “So he stuck up for you,” Gaff said.

  Ronnie nodded. “Gil always had my back. When we went out in the prison yard, though, the guy bumped into Gil on purpose to get stuff started. Big mistake. Gil knows how to box. Smart people left him alone.”

  That’s what Didi had said, too. “What happened?” Jazzi asked.

  “Everyone crowded around, tryin’ to get a better view. No one saw who did it. There was too much pushin’ and pullin’. Couldn’t be sure it was Gavin since Gil got shanked in the side.”

  Gaff studied him. Maybe Gaff didn’t b
elieve him any more than she did. Ronnie had had a front row seat, a clear view of Gavin and Gil. He must have seen something. “Did you get picked on once Gil was dead?”

  Ronnie shook his head. “Jarrett went to prison with us, and he let everyone know he was takin’ Gil’s place. Jarrett’s one big, mean gorilla of a man. People left me alone.”

  Gaff leveled a stare at Ronnie. “Where were you last Saturday during the day?”

  “The day Donovan was killed?” Ronnie put a hand on his grandma’s knee. “Workin’ on my car in the garage. Ask Granny. She brought lunch out to me. My spark plugs needed changed.”

  “Is that right, Mrs. Reynolds?” Gaff asked.

  Ronnie’s grandma glanced at Jazzi, looking confused. “Last Saturday? I recollect that’s right.”

  She didn’t sound sure. Jazzi smiled at her. “Did you go to church the next day?” Maybe that would help her put the days in the right order.

  “Mighta. Can’t quite remember.”

  Gaff turned his attention back to Ronnie. “Do you and Jarrett get together now that you’re both out?”

  “Nuh-uh. I don’t want nothin’ to do with the old ways. I just wanna work and keep my head down.”

  Gaff stood and held out a hand to help Jazzi to her feet. “Thanks for talking to us. If I think of any other questions, I’ll give you a call.”

  Ronnie shrugged, then patted his grandma’s shoulder. “I’m goin’ back to bed. I’ll get up in time for supper.”

  She smiled and watched him climb the steps, then stood to lead Gaff and Jazzi to the door. “It was nice seein’ you, folks. You come again, ya hear?”

  On the walk to his car, Gaff shook his head. “A nice woman, but age is getting the better of her. I hope Ronnie stays clean to help her out when she needs it.”

  Jazzi wondered how much help Ronnie would actually be. She wouldn’t want to have to count on him in a pinch. She even wondered if he knew who killed Gil but knew his options were better if he kept that information to himself. He seemed the type who would always put himself first.

  Chapter 12

  Gaff drove Jazzi back to New Haven. When she pushed inside the Victorian’s kitchen door, Jerod, Ansel, and Bain were still sanding. She went to the staircase and tossed her coat over the railings, then donned her white work mask. Dust clogged the air.

  “Any luck?” Jerod asked.

  “Not much. Only learned that I wouldn’t trust Ronnie any farther than I could punt Ansel in a strong wind.”

  Jerod laughed. “Don’t give my Franny any ideas.” He finished one strip of tape and moved to the next. “Where’s everyone going tonight for Thursday night out?”

  “Thane, Radley, Bain, and I are going to the Tower Bar on State Street,” Ansel said. “Walker’s coming, too.”

  “He is?” Jazzi didn’t think anything could pry him from Didi and River.

  Ansel grinned. “Didi told him he either did what he usually does and stops fussing over them, or she’s taking River to a hotel.”

  Jazzi liked Didi more the longer she knew her.

  Jerod waggled his eyebrows. “Five big, strapping guys walking in to drink beers with no women on their arms. Good thing I won’t be there, or we’d have to fight women off.”

  “I’m wearing a ring,” Ansel said.

  “Like it matters. Sometimes, that’s a turn on.” Jerod ran his hand over the wall to check to make sure the seam was smooth. “Walker’s hooked good, isn’t he?”

  Ansel finished his seam and moved to the next one. “It took one look. That’s all.”

  “That’s how it was with me and my Franny,” Jerod said. “Actually, I didn’t fall until she opened her mouth. I knew I’d met a woman who wouldn’t put up with my crap.”

  Jazzi rubbed her forearm across her forehead to shake dust off loose strands of her hair. “What’s Didi going to do while Walker’s out?”

  Ansel’s grin widened. Her man’s grin could melt hearts. “She’s loading up all of the dishes and glasses in Walker’s cupboards. He wants to give them to Goodwill and buy new ones with her.”

  “Oh, boy, that proves he’s hooked.” She’d asked Ansel to help her choose things for their house when they were renovating it, and he hadn’t even moved in yet. But she wanted him to like how everything turned out. Yeah, looking back, she’d already fallen for him. She just hadn’t realized it.

  “Walker says he never noticed what a mishmash of kitchen stuff he owned until he couldn’t come up with three matching plates for supper.”

  Jerod laughed. “Wait till he has kids. Dishes and glasses get dropped and chipped. We use a lot of plastic now.”

  Jazzi wrinkled her nose. She had a thing for table settings. She’d have to be desperate before plastic plates graced her table.

  Bain finished the seam he’d been working on and before he could start on a new one, Jerod nodded to the kitchen clock. “It’s almost five. We only have one more wall to go. Let’s call it a night.”

  They pitched in to clean up, then headed to their vehicles. Jazzi carried an empty cooler to the van. She made a mental note to pack more sandwiches for a while. The guys had saved her one for lunch, but the rest were gone. Jerod had gone to grab another one at three for an afternoon snack. That made her think. Jerod and his family were probably eating quick, easy suppers right now. She needed to make a pot of soup and a couple of casseroles for them. Then all they had to do was reheat supper. But not tonight. Tonight was girls’ night out, and she was looking forward to it.

  Chapter 13

  When Jazzi walked in the Dash-in, Olivia was already sitting in a booth, waiting for her. She was holding her hand in front of her to admire her engagement ring. Jazzi had to laugh. She found herself doing that, too.

  “Not too shabby, huh?” Jazzi’s sister wiggled her fingers at her.

  “Gorgeous. Have you and Thane made any more decisions about the wedding?” She slid onto the seat across from her. No reason to glance at the menu. She knew what she wanted.

  “We’re having the ceremony at the small church his parents used to go to before they retired to Phoenix. I already ordered my gown. I saw it in a bride magazine. And I was hoping you and I could get some ideas for the reception while we ate.”

  Lord, her sister was a lot more organized about her wedding than Jazzi had been. Probably a good thing. April second wasn’t that far away. “Did you bring a pen and paper like Gaff always carries?” Jazzi teased.

  Olivia reached into her purse and put a small yellow notepad and pen on the booth’s table. Yup, she was ready.

  The waitress came and Jazzi ordered her usual duck burger and Olivia her usual flatbread pizza. Funny how they often ordered the same things over and over at the restaurants they went to. After the waitress returned with their glasses of wine, the sisters got down to business.

  “Shrimp?” Jazzi asked.

  Olivia wrinkled her nose. It was cute when she did it. Not everyone pulled it off so well. “Cocktail shrimp gets expensive, doesn’t it? Thane and I were thinking about those shrimp flatbread pizzas you made once.”

  Jazzi nodded. “Those would work. We could cut each flatbread in fourths so they’re easy to hold.”

  “We like crostini with chicken salad, too, and Thane loves the beef satays you make.”

  “All affordable.” Jazzi used flat iron steaks to make the satays. “What else?”

  “I love your sausage parmesan palmiers.”

  Jazzi smiled. If she wrapped anything in puff pastry, her sister couldn’t get enough of it. “Any dips or veggies?”

  “I like your warm broccoli ‘n’ cheddar dip.”

  “That’s easy to make. What about my jerk vegetables on bruschetta?”

  “Mm, I forgot about those. They’re good.” Olivia wrote them down.

  “Asparagus spears wrapped in prosciutto?”

 
“I like those, too.”

  By the time the waitress brought their food, they’d finished the list, along with their glasses of wine.

  Between bites, Olivia asked, “Do you think you can make us a few different kinds of sheet cakes? We’d rather not have to pay for a wedding cake.”

  “That’s no problem.” Jazzi stopped to lick her fingers clean where mayo had squeezed out of her sandwich. “But they’ll look like sheet cakes. I’m not good at fancy decorations.”

  Olivia shrugged. “Just as long as they look yummy. What can you come up with?”

  “German chocolate sheet cake and a coconut sheet cake. I’ve made both of those. They’re good. I’ll have to try out a couple more. If you’d go for cake rolls, I could make sponge cakes with cream cheese fillings and different fruit toppings.”

  “Let’s do it.” Olivia tucked her notepad and pen back in her purse. Then she smiled. “Our wedding’s going to be great, and we won’t have to go in debt for it. We put most of our savings on the house when we bought it. We should have kept a little on the side.”

  “What for? This will work.” Jazzi took a sip of wine. “Is Thane getting pretty excited?”

  “He can’t wait, and I’m glad, or else he’d be depressed over Donovan’s death. It bothers him enough, as is. It just doesn’t make any sense. Donovan was such a good guy. Everyone liked him.”

  “What was his family like? I met his mom and dad, and I got the feeling their marriage was a little strained. But that could have been because they just lost their son.”

  Olivia finished her first square of pizza and reached for another. “No, Donovan’s home life wasn’t very good. His dad’s a bully, loves to throw his weight around. Plays fast and loose with ethics. His older brother got out of town as fast as he could. He kept in touch with Donovan, called him once a week, and they got along, but he had no desire to see his folks. His mom’s a chain-smoker, always nervous. Donovan loved her, but wouldn’t go home to visit her. He’d meet her places instead. Thane thinks she tries to keep her distance from Ray, doesn’t trust him anymore.”

  “Because he cheats?”