The Body in the Attic

by Judi Lynn

  “Looks like we’re going to have to rent a backhoe and check for broken pipes,” Jerod said.

  Her cousin loved it when he had to rent heavy equipment. If she weren’t careful, he’d be ripping out the privet hedge that bordered the entire backyard.

  “I like the bushes that line the property,” Jazzi warned him. “They stay. Don’t get crazy.”

  “They have stuff growing in them. You’re going to have to dig out saplings. Why not just start over?”

  “Because it takes years for a privet hedge to get that thick. Hands off.”

  He threw his arms in the air in mock defeat. “Whatever you say, Jasmine.”

  The man was a menace. He and Ansel jumped in his pickup to go rent what they needed. As always, where Ansel went, so went George. Jazzi started on the red oak floor in the kitchen while they were gone. If she was lucky, she’d get most of it done before Jerod and Ansel returned. As she worked, she wondered if George would like California. He could probably go outdoors every day. Would a pug miss snow? She doubted it. George wasn’t a fan of cold weather. He wore a sweater as soon as the temperatures dropped below thirty.

  Would Ansel miss River Bluffs? She couldn’t imagine him staying if Emily left. Would she miss Ansel? She couldn’t dwell on it.

  When the men got back, they headed to the basement to check where the main pipe and drain were situated. George took one look at the wooden stairs and began to whine. Ansel had to carry him down with them. Jazzi was curious where things were located, so she went down, too.

  The foundation had cement-block walls and a cement floor. Windows were spaced high on each side, a little above ground level. Enough light came in to see, but Jerod switched on overhead fluorescent bulbs anyway. They made the area more cheerful.

  “You got lucky. This is a solid basement,” Ansel said. “There are a few cracks in the cement floor, but they’re shallow. Easy to fix. Nice high ceiling, too. You could finish part of this if you wanted to.”

  Jazzi went to look at the furnace. It was eight years old. “Cal must not have replaced the central air when he replaced the heating system.”

  “That happens,” Jerod said. “Maybe it was newer, and he thought it would last a long time.”

  Ansel stopped to look at the hot water heater. “New enough. You shouldn’t have to replace much for a while.”

  “Good, then all we have to worry about is drainage.” Jerod headed for the basement door. “I found the drainpipe. I know where to start the backhoe.”

  A few minutes later, the rumble of an engine came from outside. Ansel frowned and bent to look at a wooden toolbox pushed between the furnace and water heater. He pulled it out to inspect it. It had a high handle that peaked in the center with wooden flaps tented as lids on each side. He opened one flap and gave a low whistle. “Look at these tools. They’re antiques. You can’t even find some of these now.”

  The box itself was beautiful. Carvings of hammers, chisels, and other tools covered every inch of it in an intricate design. A soft brown stain glowed with a satin finish. He frowned at initials carved in the handle. “NJ. Was that Cal Juniper’s father or grandfather’s initials?”

  “No, his dad’s name was Casper—like the friendly ghost.” Kids these days wouldn’t even know who Casper was. A chill slithered down Jazzi’s spine. NJ. “Noah Jacobs.” She shook her head. “He worked odd jobs and was going to help Cal fix up a few things in the house. But he never made it here.”

  The initials were a small detail, and probably not important, but it bugged her. She called her dad at the hardware store. Maybe she had the wrong names for Cal’s family. “Do you happen to remember Cal’s dad and grandpa’s names?”

  “His dad was Casper—Casper Juniper. I always thought his parents got a little too cute with that. His grandpa was Ora—talk about a character. Why?”

  “We found an antique toolbox in the basement with the initials NJ.”

  Her dad laughed. “You’re barking up the wrong tree. Cal’s family didn’t know a wrench from a screwdriver. They were all businessmen, always hired everything done.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” When she hung up, she braced her shoulders and called Detective Gaff. “This is probably nothing, but we went to Cal’s basement today and found a toolbox . . .”

  She didn’t get to finish. “An antique one with Noah’s initials carved in the handle?”

  How did Gaff know? “Yup, that’s what we have.”

  “As soon as I finish here, I’m on my way over. Noah’s parents said he took it with him to help Cal around his house. That means the kid made it to River Bluffs and stopped at Cal’s place.”

  “But Cal didn’t see him. How could they miss each other?” If Jazzi remembered the timeline right, Cal died a month after Noah traveled to see him.

  “Something’s off,” Gaff said. “I talked to Cal’s friend Isabelle. Cal flew out to meet Noah in New York. The two men hit it off. That’s why Noah was driving here to spend time with Cal, only he never showed up. Cal waited and waited but finally flew to the West Coast for a business trip.”

  “And had a heart attack and died there.”

  “Right.” Papers shuffled on the other end of the line. Gaff must be sifting through a file. “Look, got to go, but Noah must have made it to that house. I found the picture his parents sent me. I’ll bring it with me. See you soon.”

  Jazzi blew out a long breath when she pushed her phone back into her pocket. “The toolbox belongs to Noah Jacobs.”

  Ansel frowned. “Then where is he? Why didn’t he meet Cal?”

  “And how did his car end up close to Cleveland, Ohio?” Did Noah and Cal have a falling out? Did Noah leave River Bluffs not long after he got here?

  The rumble of the backhoe outside stopped abruptly. Jerod bellowed, “Ansel! Jazzi! Get out here. Quick!”

  What now? Ansel scooped up George, and they sprinted for the stairs. Outside, Jerod pointed to the hole he was digging. He’d made a sweep out the back gate to dig behind the thick hedge. He’d stopped near the septic tank. About two feet down, black curls surrounded a decomposing face.

  Jazzi looked away. She pulled out her cell phone and called Detective Gaff. “You might want to bring your crime scene unit. I think we found Noah Jacobs.”

  Chapter 15

  The kitchen floor was only half done, heavy plastic taped over its doors to seal them. Everything was covered with dust, so they set up lawn chairs in the living room to wait for Gaff. Jazzi had sanded the floors in there and cleaned them.

  Jazzi looked around the room at the curved fireplace mantel, gorgeous trim, and latticed windows. The house was so lovely, filled with so much charm, it felt surreal to find two dead bodies here. She shook her head.

  “It’s not the house,” Jerod told her. Her cousin could read her as well as Ansel did. “This house and Cal welcomed people. When you think of these rooms, think of Cal. They’re like him—warm and gracious. This house deserves laughter and happiness again.”

  How could her cousin be such a tease most of the time, and so perceptive when it mattered? No wonder Franny kept him.

  “Thanks, that helps.” Could she live here without picturing Lynda in the trunk in the attic and Noah buried in the backyard?

  Ansel’s blue eyes glittered. “Are you thinking of buying it? If you do, we’ll add special touches when we renovate it.”

  She patted his arm. “You’re so sweet. I was talking about buying it, but two dead bodies sort of spook me.”

  Ansel lowered his hand to stroke George’s head. “George likes it here. He’s sensitive to vibes. This house makes him feel secure.”

  Jerod nodded in agreement. “It’s not the house, Jazzi. It can’t help who walks in and out its doors.”

  Jazzi wasn’t sure how much faith to put in their advice, but they were trying to reassure her, and that was nice.

&nbs
p; Tires crunched and Gaff gave a brief knock before joining them. His dress shirt looked like it had lost the war today—damp and wrinkled. “Are you guys doing okay?”

  Jerod ran a hand through his brown hair. “We’d rather quit finding bodies while we work, if that’s what you mean.”

  Gaff grinned. “Better you than me.”

  At Ansel’s scowl, he laughed. “Really, you guys have been great to work with. Are you sure you don’t want to sign up as cops?”

  “Very funny.” Jerod stood and motioned for Gaff to follow him. “He’s out here, and we found the toolbox in the basement.”

  A team of experts had gathered around the hole.

  “When I saw the hair, I turned off the backhoe,” Jerod said.

  Ansel, Jazzi, and George had followed them. Jazzi stared at the dark curls. She’d seen them somewhere before but couldn’t pull the memory to the surface. A tech jumped into the hole to start sifting through the dirt to examine the body. Jazzi didn’t want to watch.

  “We’ll have to look over the basement,” Gaff called to her as she headed to the house. “It would be best if you didn’t go down there.”

  Had Noah been killed near the furnace? She closed her eyes, trying not to envision that. She took a deep breath and decided to concentrate on what she knew best—fixing old houses.

  She went to work on the rest of the kitchen floor. She could swim in sweat when she finished sanding and cleaning it. Jerod and Ansel stained the oak floors in the living room while she worked in the kitchen. By the time Gaff knocked and stepped inside the house, the three of them were finishing up for the day. They taped up cardboard to block the entrance to the living room. The stain had to dry before anyone walked on it.

  “If there was any evidence in the living room, we’ve ruined it,” Jerod told Gaff, “so there’s no reason for your team to go in there.”

  They’d wait to stain the kitchen until they left the house tomorrow to give it time to dry.

  Gaff glanced inside the room and smiled. “Looks good. No problem. We still want to look over the basement, but the rest of the house is okay. I took a picture of the toolbox with my cell phone and sent it to Noah’s parents. I’ll call them when I get back to the station.”

  Ansel grimaced. “We touched it. Sorry. We couldn’t see the initials where it sat.”

  “I’m just glad you found it.” A tech poked his head into the room and held up a gadget while another tech motioned for Gaff to join them in the basement.

  “You three might as well come.”

  Jazzi squirmed. Did she want to? Ansel put a hand under her arm to guide her down the steps. Once they were all there, another tech flipped off the overhead lights. When the handheld instrument scanned the floor near the furnace, discolored drops and stains showed up on the cement floor.

  Gaff nodded. “This is where Noah died. Someone tried to clean up the blood, but you can’t trick Alex’s toy.” He nodded at the tech and his light meter.

  Ansel, Jerod, and Jazzi looked at each other. As far as they knew, Noah should have arrived in town while Cal was still alive, but when Gaff found Noah’s car in Cleveland, they’d assumed Noah never reached here and Cal never got to see him. That had been their working theory until Jerod dug up a body near the septic tank and Ansel spotted Noah’s toolbox. Now Gaff found blood splatters on the basement floor. Jazzi rubbed her arms. “So Noah did arrive here. Could Cal have killed him? And Lynda, too? Maybe he looked like a nice man but had problems.”

  “Anything’s possible,” Gaff said, “but if Cal killed them, he was one good actor. His ledgers sure looked convincing to me, and everyone I talked to told me that he never got over Lynda and that he’d been distressed before he left for his business trip to California.”

  Jerod scratched his head. “Why would he spend years searching for Lynda’s son and then kill him when he got here?”

  Jazzi shrugged. None of it made sense to her. And why would Cal write fake feelings in his appointment books? She remembered her promise to Maury, though. “I told Maury Lebovitch that I’d call him if I heard anything about Lynda’s son. Can I do that?”

  “Not until we ID the body for sure and talk to his family. I’ll let you know when it’s okay.”

  “Can I tell my parents about another dead body?”

  Gaff motioned to a van parked across the street from Cal’s house. “The news already sniffed us out. Just don’t mention a name.”

  No longer needed, Jazzi, Ansel, and Jerod went upstairs to rinse off before they left the house. She walked to the window that overlooked the backyard, but the privet hedge was so thick, it hid most of whatever was happening behind it. A lilac bush grew nearby. Its roots had probably sought out the fresh, organic material of Noah’s body and grown into the drainage pipe. An easy fix—once Gaff removed the body.

  Jazzi pursed her lips, thinking. Where had she seen Noah’s dark curls before? And then she remembered. In her mother’s photo albums. She’d go there tonight and ask to borrow a few of them.

  Satisfied, she walked to her pickup with Jerod and Ansel. Emily didn’t work tonight, so Ansel was taking her out for supper. Jazzi would have the night to herself. She decided to grab a pizza, take a long bath, and try to make her cuticles and fingernails look decent again, and then go through old pictures. But first, she’d stop to see her parents. She couldn’t tell them the new news, but she could borrow Mom’s albums.

  Chapter 16

  When Jazzi pulled into her parents’ drive, she was surprised to see her sister’s car. Olivia and Mom worked together and saw each other all day at the shop. They usually separated in the evenings to go home to their significant others. When she knocked on the door, her mom called, “It’s open!”

  Giggling, her sister and Mom sat next to each other on stools at the kitchen bar. They were digging into a huge plate of nachos and drinking wine. They both looked a little happier than usual.

  Her mom grinned. “Thane’s taking some kind of training tonight, learning something new about heating and air conditioning. Your dad’s bowling with his buddies. We won’t see him for a while.” She snickered. “You know how much that man loves bowling and playing cards, so we decided to enjoy ourselves.”

  Jazzi smiled. When the cats were away, these mice would play. “Looks like you’re having a good time.”

  “We are. How’s it going for you?” Olivia handed Jazzi a paper plate when she went to stand across from them.

  Should she ruin their fun? The news van had parked across the street. The story would be on the late-night news. She’d rather tell them now. “I hate to be a spoilsport, but we found another dead body in a shallow grave at Cal’s house.” Stalling, Jazzi reached for a nacho and watched the cheese stretch super long before it broke. “I can’t tell you a name until the body’s identified. It was buried in the backyard near the septic tank.”

  “Another one?” Mom looked curious, not horrified. She must be feeling pretty mellow.

  “Old or new?” Olivia asked.

  “Newer. He hadn’t been there long.”

  Her sister raised an eyebrow, gave her an assessing look. She was putting two and two together, could probably guess whom they’d found. She glanced at Mom and took another sip of wine. In a flippant tone, she said, “Maybe Cal was a serial killer. I’ve read they can come across as the nicest guys in the world.”

  Their mom sputtered. “Cal?”

  “I’m not buying that.” Jazzi licked her fingers. The nachos were delicious, but there weren’t that many left, and Olivia still looked hungry. She’d wait and eat later. “Serial killers don’t mourn for the people they bury. They just move to the next one.”

  “This time you found a guy?” Olivia drizzled salsa on top of a big chunk of chips that were held together with melted cheese. Was she trying to lead Mom to whom it might be? Give Mom a heads-up?

  When peo
ple first met Olivia, they always underestimated her, but she was smart and clever. Her dark blond hair was pulled up in some kind of a spiky bun today, making her look edgy. She’d rimmed her eyes with blue liner. All three women in their family were different shades of blond, but Olivia had Dad’s brown eyes. The blue looked good with them. Mom was thin, Olivia willowy, and Jazzi curvy. Alike, but different.

  “Could you tell how old the victim was?” Mom picked at her food, as usual. She’d always been a light eater, probably why she stayed so slender and possibly why the wine was hitting her harder.

  Jazzi couldn’t give away too much. “He looked younger, but it was hard to tell for sure. Once Jerod saw his curly hair, he stopped digging and called Detective Gaff.”

  “I’m surprised Cal had someone that young visiting him.” Mom frowned. “He had to be close to retirement age when he died.”

  Jazzi couldn’t say much more, not until Gaff okayed it. “I stopped to see you to ask if I could borrow some of your photo albums and look through them. You and Dad talk about old friends, but I don’t know most of them. All of the stuff that’s been happening at the house has made me curious.”

  Mom wiped her hands on a napkin and shook her head. “Won’t do you much good to look at them alone. I was never good at marking who was in which picture, but I’d be happy to go through a few of them with you. I’m curious, too.”

  “Good, we have plenty of time!” Olivia finished the last of the nachos and went to rinse her hands at the kitchen sink. “Let’s look at some old pictures.”

  Mom sat in the middle on the sofa, a daughter on either side, and they began to go through the first album. The first page was all pictures of Mom with her sister.

  Mom pointed. “Lynda had come back from New York, and I was about to graduate from high school.”

  “Lynda’s clothes always look expensive.” So did Olivia’s tonight. She wore a long, silky tunic over straight-legged pants.