He reappeared with a plastic grocery bag and a dish towel. He dropped the pieces into the bag and sopped up the coffee.
“Careful,” I teased. “We don’t need any more bloodshed tonight.”
“Amen to that,” he said. While he wiped up the last of the Starbucks, he threw this little gem out there: “I didn’t sleep with her.” He paused as if waiting for my reaction. But what was I supposed to say to that? It wasn’t my business. Much.
“Will you go somewhere with me?” he said. “There’s something I want to show you. And I still haven’t told you what I came here to say.”
Before I could answer, my cell phone rang in the bedroom. I sighed and thanked God for being saved by the bell, though I wished I could have been saved byBell. I made it to my bedroom and picked up the phone off the night table. “This is Amanda,” I said, using my standard phone greeting for friend or client.
“Bunny?” It was Carly. Her voice sounded like something was wrong.
It didn’t take much to make me panic when it came to my mother or sister. “Carly, what is it? Is it Ma? Did something——”
“Everybody is fine. Bell, is Jazz with you?”
Honestly. Did she have man radar when it came to me? “Nothing is going on.” We were still PG-13, for goodness’ sake.
Her voice got very strange. “Is he in the room with you? Can he hear me? Don’t say my name again.”
“I’m in mybedroom. ” I chose my words carefully, to appease her. “The answer is absolutely not, and won’t be, so don’t worry. Bye-ee!”
“Wait,” she said. “Listen to me, Bell. You’ve got to get out of there.”
Had everyone gone insane tonight? “What are you talking about?” I made sure I didn’t say her name.
“Are you dressed?”
“Of course I am. I said nothing was going on.” Well, Iwas dressed, albeit in shredded pajamas. They offered full coverage, even if they were from Victoria’s Secret.
“Bunny, please, just get out of there. Don’t let him follow you. And write down this address. I want you to meet me there.”
“What is going on?”
“Just take this address down. And don’t let him see it.”
Great, I have to play cloak-and-dagger now. Can this get any weirder?
She rattled off the address.
“Okay. I’ve got it. What is this place?”
“It’s Jazz’s loft downtown,” she said, her voice hushed. “I just got called to a crime scene there. His ex-wife, Kate…Bell, she’s been murdered.”
chapter two
KATE’S BEEN MURDERED.
I heard Carly say it, but it sounded as if she’d spoken some archaic form of English that I only vaguely recognized.
“What?” I said.
My body understood. My heart pounded so hard it made my pulse thump in my ears. I tried to unite body and mind to make sense of what I’d heard, but my mind refused to cooperate.Murdered …
“Bell…are you there?”
“Yes, I’m…” My voice sounded strange and hollow, even to me.
Carly said something. I couldn’t focus. I felt like the ground was shifting beneath me. I needed to root myself on to something solid and immovable, but everything seemed shaky.
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
“Talk to me, Bell.”
“I’m coming.”
“Comenow . Try to keep him there if you can, and don’t let him know you know anything.”
Ididn’t know anything. I tried to focus on the facts——the few I had.Who? Kate.What? Dead.When? It had to be sometime between face scratching and Jazz showing up at my door with his gun drawn.
His gun drawn…
Had he shot her? The beginnings of a headache throbbed at my temples, commanding my attention and forcing my eyes shut.
Where?Jazz’s loft.Why?
His voice pounded in my head.Do you feel like you’re capable of doing something you never thought you’d do…if it meant we could be together?
Impossible. I couldn’t believe he’d kill her for us to be together any more than I could make a bowl of alphabet soup into the great American novel.
Carly’s instructions,Get out of there, bit into me with the frigid precision of a Michigan winter. “Okay,” I whispered into my cell phone.
“Bell!”
“Okay.” I folded it closed, cutting off the call.
I sank down onto the bed, wondering how I’d get out of thereand keep him in my place.
“Bell?”
Jazz stood at my bedroom door, his lean body suddenly menacing. He’d pressed his shoulder against the doorjamb. He gave me a quizzical look. “Is everything okay?”
That man could read me like a John Grisham paperback——not that I wasn’t obvious at the moment. I scanned his face. His expression looked more genuine than sinister. I squeezed my eyes shut.Sure, everything is great, except for the dead woman in your loft.
“What’s wrong, Bell?”
“I have to go out.”
“Now?”
When I didn’t say anything, he moved to take charge. “I’ll take you.”
“No!” I tried to calm my voice. “I just have to…make a quick run.”
“But I need to talk to you.”
“I’ll be back, Jazz.” What choice did I have? It was my apartment. “Uh…just hang out. Will you put Amos’s cage together for me?”
He did not look enthusiastic.
“I need to get some tampons.”
He stared at me like I’d said I needed a leopard-skin body stocking. “Is it that time of month? Do you have to leave rightnow ?”
What kind of man…?A mere mention of a feminine hygiene product should have sent one of his species scuttling to the other side of the room. Since the dreaded “girl stuff” card hadn’t worked, I’d have to go hysterical, which I was on the verge of anyway. “It’snot that time of month,” I screeched. “But I am a thirty-five-year-old womanwith endometriosis .”
Now make it about him.
“Do you know anything about endometriosis?”
He opened his mouth but didn’t answer, just stood at the door looking dumbstruck.
“That’s what I thought!”
And then the big finish, with my eyes narrowed to slits and my voice a deep rumble. Very Joan Crawford. “You cannot underestimate my need for supplies.” I stomped my foot, hard. “Ever!” I hoped I sounded like Joan when she said, “No. More.Wire hangers !” in the movieMommie Dearest.
I rushed into the living room to snatch my black wool duster out of the closet. I pulled it on over my partially mangled pajamas. I grabbed the first pair of shoes I could get my hands on——ornate gold, jewel-encrusted, high-heeled pumps that went with absolutely nothing I owned but were really cute and only twenty-five dollars. I slid my bare feet into them, Carly’s voice sayingGet out of there driving me into a full-blown hissy fit.
With caution, he broached the question: “Is that what you’re wearing?”
“Is this what I’m wearing?” Again my voice crested with more drama than I’d intended. “Are you my mother now? She’s the only person who would ask me that. And my secretary, Maggie.” I thought about it. “And Carly.” The mere thought of those three, and the possibility of Jazz being a murderer, bolstered my hysteria. My hands shook.
He took a big risk in stepping a little closer to me. “It’s just that…”
“It’s just thatwhat ?”
“You look…” I could see him searching for the right word, treading carefully. “Upset, Bell.”
“Of course I’m upset! I need tampons, and you’re opposing me!”
He put his hands up as if he all of a sudden felt like praising the Lord. “Okay. I’ll put the cage together, and you go handle your business. I’ll walk you to your car.”
“No! You don’t have time to go strolling around like you’re God’s troubadour. I need that cage put together. Don’t you see he’s badly in need of a home? What kind of mom do you think I
am, leaving poor Amos in a cardboard box after all he’s been through tonight?”
And speaking of Amos…
“Uh. I’m taking him with me.” I whisked over to the coffee table and swooped up Amos’s box. I couldn’t leave him with a man who might be a dangerous felon.
“Bell, are you sure——”
“Do. Not. Get in myway. ” My eyebrows nearly touched the ceiling.
He took a step away from me. “Fine. I’m out of your way.”
I exhaled. The air I forced out of my lungs almost hurt coming out. I was sure Jazz could see me trembling. My heart began an Irish clog dance. I tripped twice going over to the door in my fabulous shoes, while Amos flopped around in the box. I finally grabbed the doorknob in hopes of steadying myself, but Jazz’s arms caught my waist and pulled me up and against him. He turned me to face him, stroking my hair. “Maybe you should change shoes. You know how you and high heels are.”
Our eyes locked. A knot twisted in my throat. “Jazzy?” Tears sprang to my eyes.
His eyes filled with concern. “What is it, baby?”
I whispered, “Baby, what did you do wrong?”
He didn’t avoid my eyes this time. He smiled a bit. Brushed a stray tear off my cheek and gave me a squeeze. “We can talk about everything when you get back. Don’t worry, okay?” He pulled away and narrowed one eye. Chuckled. “I’m a little scared of you right now.”
I couldn’t return his silly grin. “I’m scared, too.”
He kissed my forehead, then my lips. “It’s not that bad. What I did was more stupid than anything. I——I just wanted us to be together.” He squeezed my shoulders. “Go get your——you know, stuff. I’ll be here when you get back.”
I nodded again and rushed out the door.
I don’t know how the Love Bug got me to the address I’d discreetly tucked into the breast pocket of my pajamas. It was all I could do to steer, my iPod blasting U2 to blunt my thinking. It briefly occurred to me that a sunshine yellow VW Beetle sure was a happy-looking car to drive to a crime scene in. I’d have to rethink my vehicle choice——or at least color——if I were to continue sleuthing.
I tried to focus on Bono’s scratchy tenor wailing “All Because of You.” I replayed it over and over as Interstate 94 flew past me. I may have made it to the heart of downtown with my body in one piece, but my mind resembled an unassembled jigsaw puzzle.
Gonna need a little help here, Lord.
I gazed up at the impressive redbrick building. Back in the early 1900s it was a pharmaceutical company’s warehouse. The space had been converted into lofts years ago, and now the high-end property right on the Detroit River was home to the city’s most prominent shakers and movers——very cosmopolitan. How Jazz could afford it, even on a lieutenant’s salary, was beyond me. I got a little mad that he’d never brought me here.
The requisite crime-scene gawkers ambled about, even in the cold, and uniforms kept them at a distance. The CSIs had arrived, but they hadn’t gone inside. I saw Carly’s Escalade parked on the street. I spotted her standing outside in the cold. I picked up Amos’s box, got out of the Love Bug, and rushed over to her, surprised by the relief I felt just seeing her.
“Bunny.” She gathered me into a hug. “I have never been so happy to see——”Screeeeeech, went the brakes on her affection. She thrust me away from her, holding me by the shoulders. “Are you inpajamas ?” The word “pajamas” soared eight octaves higher, rivaling Minnie Riperton’s famous refrain from “Loving You.”
“You said leavenow .”
“You told me you were dressed.”
“As opposed to being naked.”
“And what is up with those shoes?”
“You don’t like them? I got them on sale at Ma’s boutique. She let me have them wholesale for twenty-five bucks.”
“Bell, we’re at a crime scene.”
“Last time I wore stilettos and a red silk halter dress.”
“You have a point.” She thought for a moment. “Actually, I’ve got a sexy little bustier and gold shorts that would——”
I did not want to hear about gold shorts on a forty-year-old woman, even one as striking as Carly. “Can we just get down to business?”
“Okay, but I will get back to you on the pajamas and shoes.”
I had no doubt that she would. She jerked her head toward Amos’s temporary home. “Is something moving in there?”
I tried to ignore her.
“Bell?”
Continued to ignore her.
“Bell!”
I gingerly opened the box. I didn’t even look, but I heard the familiar hiss, followed by Carly’s scream. “What in theworld ?” She tried to knock him out of my hand.
I snatched him away. “What are you doing? He’s my baby!”
Carly stared at me openmouthed, like I was more shocking than Jazz possibly murdering his wife. “Whatis that thing?”
“A sugar glider.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand you, Bell.”
“I can tell you all about myself later, but I’m sure you asked me here for a reason.”
“Ihad a plan, and then you show up dressed like Hugh Hefner, with a squirrel in tow.”
“Sugar glider.”
I’d challenged her with my unorthodox apparel and furry companion, but try dissuading Carly Brown when she has a plan. She snapped back into efficiency. “You’re going to have to go along with what I say, no matter how you’re dressed.” She glared at me, looking frighteningly like our mother. “And put that thing away.”
“I can’t leave my baby in the car.”
“Why didn’t you leave him at home?”
“With someone who might be dangerous?” I clutched Amos’s box to my chest.
“Thatthing looks dangerous, Bell.”
And speaking of dangerous…“Carly, what happened here?”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you think? It looks like he snapped or something. I was scared to death that he could be with you, which he was. I thought you said you stopped seeing him.”
“I did. Look, we’ll talk about my social life later. What happened?”
“Did he act unusual tonight?”
I nodded.
Her hand flew to her mouth as if to stop whatever would come out. She practically threw herself on me and snatched Amos and me into a suffocating embrace. I let her hold us until Souldier, Jazz’s colleague and best friend, interrupted our sisterly hug by rubbing my shoulder. I eased out of Carly’s arms.
The handsome, dreadlocked CSI supervisor looked shaken; his cocoa brown skin actually looked pale. “Sorry we had to get you”——he regarded my pajamas——“out of bed.”
“I wasn’t in bed with Jazz.”
His gaze darted to the ground and assured me I’d given him too much information. “Uh…nice shoes.”
That worked for me. I wouldn’t have to regale him with more unnecessary disclosures about my nonexistent sex life. Besides, it’s always good to have a man’s opinion about shoes. “Thanks.”
He scratched the top of his head. “Did Jazz say anything to you——”
About murdering Kate? Nope!
“Nothing specific, Souldier. He just said…”
I did something wrong.
A bolt of fear shot through me. I clamped my mouth shut. After a moment I could offer: “He said…something about being with Kate.” My gut twisted. “Have you gone inside yet?”
“Nobody can do anything until the medical examiner takes a look. Carly and I just got here. We took our time, waiting for you.”
Carly took my hand. “Come on. You’re going in with me. When we get inside, walk with your hands behind your back, and don’t touch a thing.” She took a deep breath, steeling herself for a task that had become much more personal than a routine death investigation. “Bell, don’t throw up or in any way compromise the scene. This isn’t like last time. The lead detective hasn’t invited you in.” She gave me another disgusted look.
“Pajamas! And thoseshoes. ” She sighed. “Pray that we get away with this.”
I said a silent prayer indeed.
I followed Carly to the building’s glass double doors, guarded by a bored-looking uniformed officer.
“Dr. Brown,” the uniform said to Carly. “She can’t——”
“She’s with me.”
The officer took one look at my attire. “But——”
“But what, Officer? We need to get inside.”
He nodded and let Carly and me brush past him.
We walked into a narrow corridor that led to the stairs. My hands stayed behind my back——awkward, since I held a box full of sugar glider. The corridor had a stale smell. I favored it, however, to the blessedly absent odor of the not-so-freshly deceased that had permeated the air at the previous crime scene I’d been to.
I climbed the black metal stairs on shaky legs, dreading what I’d find in that fabulous loft, with every precarious step I took. When we arrived upstairs, I could see the door to Jazz’s loft already open. I noted that it hadn’t been forced open. A few uniforms huddled by the door.
Carly nudged me. “Stay behind me.”
I followed her lead. Carly walked right up to the men and lifted her chin, and with a single look, they parted like the Red Sea. What a goddess.
But enough about her.
Take in everything, Bell.
I studied the room. Timber ceilings and cathedral windows with a spectacular view. Wide, open space, exposed brick walls graced with his mother’s paintings. Shining wood floors you could eat off of. A gourmet kitchen with stainless-steel appliances. A forgotten takeout package from Luckey Chinese sat on the countertop. The bag was still stapled shut with the bill attached. I’ve eaten many Chinese takeout meals with Jazz. Judging from the size of the bag, he’d ordered for one tonight.
His cold food was just about the warmest thing in the room. The place had the sterile air of a property that hadn’t been lived in yet. He had very little furniture. A big-screen projection television held court in the nearly empty living area. A black leather couch——that looked like an IKEA special——sat at comfortable viewing distance. Beneath it was an area rug as funky and colorful as the ties he wore.
Death, Deceit & Some Smooth Jazz Page 3
