“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “Maybe she should stay with me. No stairs to worry about. I’ll give her my room, and I can sleep on the couch.”
“I’m sure she’d appreciate that, Chad. You’re a good friend.”
“Will you be at the hospital today?”
“As a matter of fact, I’m heading there right now.”
“Way cool. I’d like to meet you, Sarah.”
* * *
An hour later when I walked into Molly’s room, she was sitting up in bed, eating breakfast. After all she had been through, she looked healthy. The color had returned to her cheeks. Her hair looked clean and brushed. She’d look perfectly normal if not for the cast on her foot and lower leg.
“Well, good morning,” I said, setting her cell phone on the side table near her bed. “Good to know you have an appetite.”
“I actually woke up early. Can’t believe I slept through the whole night without waking up once. The nurse helped me take a bath and shampoo my hair.”
“Glad to know they’re taking care of you.”
“Thanks for bringing my phone,” she said, but left it on the table. “The doctor says I can go home later today.”
“Yeah, I talked with Marshal Donovan this morning and he gave me an update. And he told me the good news that he’s not going to have you relocated.”
She nodded. “He’s a nice guy. Totally cool about everything. He didn’t even lecture me about leaving town with Marco, especially after I explained how he tricked me into believing he’d turn himself in.”
“By the way, I talked to Chad this morning. He was worried about you.”
“You did?” She looked up at me and suddenly her smile vanished. “Did you ask him about …”
“Kippy is home and doing fine,” I said, “and the Baileys want you back.”
“They want me back? Are you serious?”
“That’s what Chad said. He’s coming to visit this morning so I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.”
A wide smile spread across her face. “Oh, man, Chad is a character and a half. Wait till you meet him in person.”
“Now that you have your old job back, does that mean you won’t be able to do my website?”
She made a face, like she’d forgotten all about that. “Are you kidding? I’d love to do your website. I really thought you were just giving me a job out of pity.”
“No way. I’d love for you to help me out. There’s no hurry, though. Take as much time as you need.”
“Well,” she said, waving her hand over her cast with a flourish, “I’ll have plenty of time while I’m laid up.”
“Great. I can’t stay very long. I’m going to the airport to pick up Carter this afternoon. After twelve hours on a plane, he’s gonna be exhausted.”
“Oh,” she said, “he’s your partner, right?”
“Partners in every sense of the word. Did I mention we live together?”
“Yeah, I think so. He must be a cool guy if he’s your boyfriend. Cuz, you’re a pretty cool lady.”
I laughed. “Well, that is my mission in life. To be a cool lady. So, thanks.”
“You should get an award or something for saving my life. Do they give awards like that to people who aren’t cops?”
“I don’t think so, but I don’t want any awards. Just seeing you here, feeling hopeful for your future, is enough award for me.”
Molly swung her legs over the side of the bed, then slowly pushed herself up to a semi-standing position. She grabbed my arm and pulled me in for a hug. “Thank you, Sarah. Thanks for not giving up on me.”
I hugged her back and said, “You’re welcome. Now get back in bed before you break your other leg.”
The End
The Layer of Lies
(Sarah Woods Book 20)
by
Jennifer L. Jennings
Copyright 2016
Query Publishing LLC
All Rights Reserved
Chapter 1
When I got the call from Mary Kendrick Monday morning, letting me know that her husband of twenty-four years had committed suicide, I didn’t know what to say.
I had known Mary and Jeffrey for over ten years; they used to be massage clients back when I owned a massage therapy practice. Mary and Jeffrey had been regulars, but I hadn’t seen either of them in the last three years, after I had started my training to become a private investigator.
“Mary, I am so sorry,” I finally said, as my chest swelled with a mixture of sadness and disbelief. The investigator in me wanted to ask a hundred questions about why her husband would take his own life, but this wasn’t the time.
“I wanted to let you know that we’re having a small memorial service at our house tomorrow at ten o’clock. I’d really like for you to be there.”
Even though my heart was breaking over the devastating news, I felt honored that she called me personally to deliver the invitation. “Of course, I’ll be there. How are you doing? God, this must be so hard.”
“I’m still in shock. Once things settle down after the memorial service, I’m sure the reality will . . . sink in.”
“Is there anything I can bring?”
“No, no, everything is being taken care of by the caterers.” There was a long pause before she added, “Look, Sarah, I was hoping, if it’s not too much trouble, would you mind staying after everyone has left?”
“Sure. Anything you need.” For a second, I thought she was enlisting me to help clean up after the memorial, but then it occurred to me that maybe she wanted to discuss the circumstances surrounding her husband’s death. Perhaps ask for my professional advice on some matter. “If it’s too painful to talk about right now, Mary, I understand. But . . . did he leave a note?”
“No. At least, I haven’t found one yet. I’ve looked through all of his belongings and nothing. Truth is, Jeffrey had been deeply depressed since he got laid off from his job a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know he lost his job.” Jeffrey was what I considered to be a computer tech wizard. He got paid lots of money to design new software programs for large corporations. I could only imagine, with the new generation of tech savvy youngsters, he eventually got pushed out of the scene.
“It was a huge blow to us financially,” Mary went on. “Especially since he couldn’t find another job. I was able to go back to teaching, but he hated the fact that I had to work. You know how proud he was. Well, after I became the breadwinner, his depression got worse. He started seeing a therapist and went on medication. It seemed to be helping, but then, I don’t know. In the past few weeks before his death, he became withdrawn and distant. I was very concerned, but he assured me it was nothing serious, that he was just in a funk. If I knew that things were so bad, maybe I . . .”
As her voice trailed off, I said, “I can’t imagine what it’s been like, Mary. I hope your family is there to help you out right now.”
“Yes. My sister is here from Chicago, and Jeffrey’s brother and nephew are flying in tonight. They’re all staying with me. Which reminds me, I need to get the guest bedrooms ready and do a little grocery shopping. It helps to stay busy.”
“I really appreciate you calling me, and I will absolutely see you tomorrow. In the meantime, if you need anything, please call.”
“I will. Thank you, Sarah.”
I immediately went online and looked up the obituary for Jeffrey Kendrick. There were no details of how he died or that he’d even committed suicide. I stared at the picture of him. The photo probably had been taken when he was in his forties, back when I’d first met him. He had not been handsome in the traditional sense, but his puppy-dog brown eyes had given him a vulnerable appeal. He had always kept himself in shape by going to the gym three or four days a week, but he had needed regular massages because of the work stress.
After a quick search of the internet, I found a brief article in the local paper about a fifty-three-year-old man who jumped off Heritage Bridge in Ma
nning Park on Saturday, June 25. It didn’t mention a name, but I knew it had to be Jeffrey.
I used to bring my son to that park when he was little. I’d walk him in the carriage on the mile-long trail that looped the perimeter of the park. Heritage Bridge wasn’t more than three or four stories high, but about ten years ago, I remember hearing about a teenage boy who had dived off the bridge to impress his friends. He had hit some rocks on the bottom and broken his neck.
I hadn’t been to the park in years. The last time I was there, the place had a run-down feeling to it. The jungle gym was still in use, but the grounds were unkempt, and the paved walking trail was cracked and uneven, weeds growing through the cracks.
When I walked into the kitchen, Carter was standing at the counter, pouring two fresh mugs of coffee. He took one look at me and arched an eyebrow. “You don’t look very happy. Who were you talking to on the phone?”
“That was Mary Kendrick. She and her husband Jeffrey were two of my most loyal clients back in the massage days. Anyway, she called to let me know that Jeffrey committed suicide last week.”
Carter pulled me in close and wrapped his strong arms around me. “I’m sorry.”
I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “She’s having a small memorial service at her home tomorrow.”
“Want me to go with you?”
“Yeah, that would be nice if you don’t mind.”
He sat me down at the kitchen table and set the coffee in front of me. I took a sip and closed my eyes, feeling the warm liquid slide down my throat. “Jeffrey had a really good job designing computer programs, but he was let go a few years ago. I guess he never found another job, and it sent him into a depression that he was never able to overcome.”
“How old was he?”
“A little younger than you. Too young to retire. They didn’t have kids, but they had a pretty lavish lifestyle. Their house in Bridgeport is magnificent, and they also had a beach house in Florida. They probably had to sell that.”
“Did Mary mention how he killed himself?”
“No, but I’m pretty sure he jumped off Heritage Bridge.” I scrolled my iPad and showed him the obituary and the article about the jumper. “Mary wants me to stay after the service. She didn’t say why, but I think she might want to get my advice about something.”
“Advice?” Carter eyed me warily. “About what?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m wondering if maybe she has doubts about the suicide. He didn’t leave a note, which I find odd because they were a close couple, or at least, it seemed that way to me when I knew them years ago.”
“A lot can change in a few years.”
Carter was right, of course. I had no idea what Mary and Jeffrey had gone through after he lost his job. “People lose their jobs every day, but most people don’t resort to suicide. Unless there are other factors involved, like, maybe Jeffrey had been abusing alcohol or drugs.”
“No point in speculating till we have all the facts, right?”
“I suppose.”
He reached over to the other side of the kitchen table and grabbed his reading glasses along with the newspaper. He still preferred to read a hard copy of the news instead of going online. It was his morning ritual to read, drink coffee, and if a particular article caught his fancy, we’d discuss it over a second pot of brew.
This morning, however, I didn’t have time to stick around. I rinsed out my mug and grabbed my purse.
He looked up from his newspaper, blue eyes casting an inquisitive glance over his reading glasses. “Where you off to?”
“I’m meeting Molly at the office in twenty minutes. She finished the website, and I think she’s excited to show it to me in person.”
He set down the paper and removed his glasses. “Remind me again why we needed this website.”
“Well, you know, everyone has a website these days. It’ll help our image as professional private investigators, which will help us get more jobs.”
“We’ve been doing fine, Sarah. We don’t need a website to prove anything to anybody. Why don’t you just admit that you gave Molly the job as charity.”
Okay, maybe he was partially right about that. Molly was a part-time dog sitter, and she barely made enough money to pay rent. Plus, I wanted to keep my eye on her, and to have her work for me seemed the best way to do that.
He nodded, compassion in his eyes as if he could read my thoughts. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough for her? You’ve been driving her to her doctors’ appointments, making her meals, not to mention the fact that you saved her life. Now you’re paying her to do a website?”
Molly Fisher had been placed in witness protection over a year ago, right after her fiancé Marco had murdered a young woman with ties to a violent and ruthless Cuban gang in Miami. He’d skipped town, was missing for over a year, and then had showed up in Bridgeport a few weeks ago, looking for Molly’s help. She’d made the mistake of trusting him, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that I followed them out to the woods, she might be rotting in the shallow grave he had dug just for her.
“Well,” I said, “charity or not, I think a website is a good thing. And you don’t have to worry about money because I’m paying for it.”
“I don’t care about the money. I just don’t want you to feel obligated to help this girl. Don’t forget, she’s still got a long road ahead of her. And you can’t fix all her problems, as much as you’d like to.”
“Yeah, I know.” I didn’t take offense to Carter’s mini-lecture because I knew he was only trying to protect me. I had a tendency to get too involved in some of our cases, and often it was to my detriment.
I kissed Carter on the head as I made my way to the door with keys and purse in hand. “I should be home around lunch time. I’ll grab us some sandwiches from the deli on my way back.”
He grasped for my hand to stop me and when I looked down at him, he gave me a little smile. “Hey, we don’t have to put pictures of ourselves on the website, do we?”
I tried to keep a straight face. “You mean you don’t want me to post that picture of you in your orange swim trunks?”
He slapped my rear end as I hustled out of the kitchen.
* * *
When I got to my office ten minutes later, Molly was standing by my door, backpack at her feet. I noticed she didn’t have her crutches today. The elevator was broken, so she must have gotten to the second floor via the stairs.
“How did you get up here?” I asked.
“Just because I have a cast on my foot doesn’t mean I’m completely useless.”
Molly was in her mid-twenties, with dyed black hair and light eyebrows. Her natural color was blonde, but she’d been coloring it since she’d entered witness protection. Usually, she wore baseball caps or hoodies to help keep her hair and face covered, but in the past few weeks I’d noticed that she started taking more pride in her appearance. Even wearing a little make-up.
“I never said you were useless, Molly.”
I unlocked my door, then I followed her inside. She immediately went to my desk, sat down, and removed her laptop from her backpack. “Now, this is only a draft website so I can change the template if you don’t like the colors or the layout.”
Less than a minute later, the home page of the website showed up on the monitor. “I like the retro feel with the black and white. I think it’s perfect.”
Molly smiled in her timid way as she closed the laptop and leaned back in the chair to look up at me. Her expression changed to a more serious one. “So, I have an idea.”
“Oh?”
“Maybe once I’m done with the website, you could give me other tasks. Like, helping out with your cases. I could do research or help with surveillance.”
For a moment, I thought she was kidding, but the expectant look on her face told me otherwise. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but do you really think it’s a good idea? I mean, you’re supposed to lay low until things c
ool off in Miami with Marco’s trial.”
“I don’t see why I have to be so careful anymore,” she said, a hint of hurt in her tone. “I talked to the Marshall yesterday, and he seems to think that Marco is going to confess to the murder and cop a plea with the DA. Plus, word on the street is that the Vice Kings aren’t a threat to me anymore.”
“Wow, this is big news. Does that mean you can go home soon?”
She sighed. “Not exactly. Looks like I’ll be staying here for a few more months, but it’s sooo boring just sitting around all day. It’s been great doing your website, but now that it’s almost done I can help you with other things.”
There was no way Carter would allow it. He wasn’t even keen on bringing my brother Andrew into the mix, but had conceded after he realized that Andrew had skills that could help us. Molly was a different story altogether. She was young, inexperienced, and not to mention, hiding from dangerous people. No, this idea would never fly, but I had to soften the blow of rejection. “Look,” I said, “right now, business is a little slow. In fact, we haven’t had a job for weeks since Carter got home from Hawaii. Which is why getting this website done was a priority.”
“Whatever, I get it.” She slid her laptop into her backpack, got up, and slowly made her way to the door. “I’d probably be more of a nuisance, anyway.”
“Is that why you wanted to meet here?” I asked. “Because you wanted to talk about working for me and Carter?”
“Look, I’m sorry I brought it up. I feel like an idiot for suggesting it.”
“Don’t be.” I didn’t want her to leave upset so I said, “What are you doing for lunch? Wanna grab a burger? My treat.”
“No thanks,” she said, her tone void of emotion. “You’ve already done so much for me.”
“Do you need a ride home?”
The Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 7) Page 11
