“But…”
“Don’t go there,” he warned. He nodded toward the pickup she had exited. “The lady in that truck with you is about a blink away from being brought up on murder charges. And all your tromping around on crime scenes is not helping.”
“Bliss’s foot is too small to be the shoeprint he was looking at,” Jesse said, giving up most of her claim to innocence. “And it was an accident anyway,” she hurriedly explained. “I had no idea Frank Haney was back there. Or that he was looking at evidence.”
“Not necessarily evidence,” the sheriff quickly corrected. “Just because they were there doesn’t mean they have anything to do with Harry Kerr’s murder. Those marks in the dirt could have been left at any time.”
“Not really,” Jesse said, remembering the rain that had ended a month-long dry spell just days earlier. “We had a real downpour, what was it? Wednesday? Yeah, Wednesday night. Any footprints from before that would have been washed away.”
Having said that, she knew she should stop while she was ahead, but she was too wound up. “And any imprints from Thursday would have sunk deeper into the mud,” she continued, excited by the thoughts that were coming quickly. “But by Friday night, the ground was drying out some. Enough to leave a good, clear impression. Like the one Frank was looking at.”
Joe Tyler frowned behind his sunglasses. “They have a gardener, don’t they? It could have been his footprint. Or maybe it was Harry Kerr’s.”
“You haven’t already made a cast and compared it to the shoes Harry was wearing?” Jesse’s tone made it clear that she was sure they had, and that he was only arguing with her because he didn’t want her to think she had actually learned anything.
Trying very hard to show no hint of gloating, she added, “My guess is that Harry’s foot was bigger than that partial print next to the path. And I don’t think he walked with a cane or a crutch.”
“Just wandering by, huh?” Joe rocked back on his heels and crossed his arms over his chest, not bothering to hide his own gloating. “Frank said you had a lot of opinions. Most of which he found—let me see, how did he put that? Oh, yeah, ‘offensive and intrusive’ were his exact words, I believe. And that the only way he could get rid of you was to threaten to arrest you on the spot.”
Clearly on the defensive, Jesse opted for a quick subject change. “You know, it’s really uncomfortable talking to you when I can’t see your eyes through those sunglasses.”
“Do you find it intimidating?” he asked, embracing the new direction.
“A little.”
“Well, good, because God knows I try. But I can’t honestly see that anything I say has any effect on you. And I’m getting very tired of it. Any minute now, I’m getting ready to slap some cuffs on you and haul you off to jail. And then we’ll see if that makes a dent in your thick skull.”
The last few words had risen in volume, and Jesse winced as his finger stabbed the air just inches from her face.
“Offering to comp somebody lunch is not a bribe,” she defended. “And I can’t help it if I’m naturally observant.”
“Observant?” He drew his head up and back, a little like a rattler getting ready to strike. “How about nosey? Huh? Does that work for you? Cause it works for me. And interfering and nosey will both get you arrested.”
“Oh, really? Well, you know what?” Nose in the air, chin defiantly tilted, she planted her fists on her hips. “I’m getting pretty tired of being yelled at by you guys every time I turn around. Good grief! You could all use some anger management classes, you know that?”
“Let me tell you something, lady.” One foot moved forward to support the weight that now towered over her in earnest. “We’ve had anger management classes, and that’s the only reason you aren’t already doing your natural observing from inside a jail cell. I’m going to say this one last time. You are not helping your friend. You are not going to magically solve this crime. You don’t know what you’re doing and you’re getting in the way.” His voice rose with each sentence and ended on a crescendo.
Adrenaline pumping, Jesse stopped herself an instant away from “oh, yeah?” Instead, she took a deep breath, stared into her own reflection in Joe Tyler’s dark sunglasses, and said quietly, “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know what else to do, and I can’t just stand aside.”
“You need to learn how,” he said just as quietly. “This is very serious. And it’s no place for amateurs, as well-meaning as they might be. Now, get back in your truck and drive away, slowly and sanely. And stop playing your little detective games, because the next time, there won’t be any discussion.”
With that, he turned on his heel, walked back to the driver’s door and reentered his pickup. The sound of his engine roared to life as Jesse did the same. Inside her truck, a blast of heat wrapped around her, soothing her jangled nerves for an instant before it began to suffocate her.
Bliss glanced nervously over her shoulder to where the sheriff’s white pickup, ram bars on the front, still sat with its engine rumbling. “What in the world was that about?” she whispered.
“Judgment day. And it was ugly.” Jesse’s hand was on the temperature control, already turning it down. “Are you warm enough now?”
“Yeah, I’m better. Thanks. Judgment for who?”
“For me.” Putting the truck in gear, Jesse pulled carefully back onto the highway.
“Oh, thank God!” Bliss threw her head back against the seat and went limp, then just as quickly sat up again. “I mean, wow, I’m so sorry.”
She looked instantly contrite, but her sympathy sounded seriously forced. Jesse worked to keep a straight face. Any mixed feelings Bliss had were understood, and only served to make her seem more human, something she could use a little more of. Petite, blond goddesses could be a little hard to warm up to.
“Have you had a lot of friends in your life, Bliss?” The question just popped out of nowhere, and it was Jesse’s turn to look contrite. “I mean, gosh.…that didn’t come out right.”
“Oh, my goodness, I’ve upset you,” Bliss said at the same time. Her palms flattened against both of her cheeks, and her big, brown eyes grew hugely round. “I’m so-o-o sorry. I’m not normally insensitive and self-centered. Really I’m not!”
“Well, I wish I could say that I don’t normally go around sticking my foot in my mouth, but unfortunately, I do,” Jesse hurried to say. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. And, actually, I’m very reassured by any flaws that you show, so don’t worry about that. What I meant was that sometimes, for a lot of different reasons, really pretty girls have trouble making friends with other girls. Did that happen to you?”
“Oh, well, sort of, I guess. Like I mentioned, my parents moved around a lot, and until they started leaving me with Aunt Viv and Uncle Malcolm during the summers, I didn’t really stay anywhere long enough to make real friendships.”
“How about after you were grown?”
“Well, I had Harry. And there was Bill, and then Cindilee.”
“And you and Cindilee were friends?” Jesse had begun to regret asking the original question, but now it seemed that Bliss had had at least one girlfriend through the years.
“Uh, that depends.” Bliss shifted uncomfortably. “Cindilee’s kind of different, if you know what I mean.”
Or not. Jesse remembered that Vivian wasn’t particularly fond of the woman. Maybe this was why.
“I don’t know her very well myself,” Jesse conceded. “But Mrs. Marshall seemed nice enough when I talked to her.”
“Oh, she can be likeable, especially if she wants to be,” Bliss agreed. “But she has a lot of layers. What is that word? Nuanced? Yeah, that’s it. We were friends, but I don’t think she ever really liked me, if you know what I mean.”
“Jealousy, maybe,” Jesse offered. She could certainly see why.
“I don’t really know. It took me a while to notice that she was always the friendliest when there was someone else around to see it.
”
“Is that why Vivian isn’t particularly fond of her?” Jesse made a mental note to take another look at her own conversation with Cindilee Marshall, especially the comments regarding Bliss. Maybe another talk on Cindilee’s own turf would be a good idea, if Jesse could think of a good reason to show up at the Marshall house unannounced.
“Actually, Aunt Viv’s attitude developed when Cindilee tried too hard to ingratiate herself. There’s nothing Aunt Vivian dislikes more than someone trying to suck up to her.”
Bliss grew quiet for a moment, then added, “You know, since Cindilee was so obviously faking her friendship for me, I could have seen things that weren’t really there, but it always seemed to me that she didn’t have a whole lot of genuine feelings for anyone. Even with Bill, she always seemed to be more about possession than love.”
Startled, Jesse darted a sideways glance toward Bliss. “Really? ‘Cause that just sounds creepy.”
“Can I get an ‘Amen’, sister?” Bliss agreed with a nod.
Chapter Nineteen
After safely depositing Bliss at the Windsor Mansion, Jesse stepped into the foyer of her revamped Victorian at straight up three o’clock. To her right, the glass-paned French doors into the tea room were closed. Inside, she could see a scattering of patrons lingering over coffee, conversation and dessert—three things for which the Gilded Lily was famous.
To Jesse’s left, one of a duplicate set of French doors opened, and Constance Oliver, co-owner and manager of the Gilded Lily Antiques and Vintage Shop, stuck her head out.
“Get in here,” Connie hissed, motioning with her arm as she stepped back to leave the door open. “I waited all day yesterday to ambush you.” She closed the door behind Jesse, and then put herself in front of it. “And then you left this morning before I got here.”
Jesse looked around to see if there were any customers. To her relief, they appeared to be alone, since she couldn’t afford eavesdroppers on a conversation she didn’t want to have in the first place. “I assume you have questions about Harry Kerr,” she said gingerly.
“I can’t tell you how embarrassing it’s been to spend two full days telling people I know nothing about his death.” Connie’s hands fluttered as she talked, setting the bangles on her wrists to jingling. “When everybody knows you’re my business partner and friend, and that Vivian Windsor tells you everything.”
“But,” Jesse pointed out, “I don’t repeat what she says. I’ve never discussed Vivian’s private life or business or, well, anything.”
“Nobody cares about that.” The younger woman shook her sleek, shoulder-length bob of ebony hair and batted her long, dark lashes over truly stunning Caribbean-blue eyes. “You have been smack dab in the middle of what appears to be a murder investigation for two full days, and nobody can get near you to pump you for information, so they’re grabbing me…” She swept her arm to the side of her and backward toward the door on the opposite side of the foyer, setting off more tinkling of bracelets. “…and those poor women over there.”
Distracted by the sophisticated bling that was Constance Oliver, and reminded of the pin-up lushness of Bliss Kerr, Jesse couldn’t help thinking it was a good thing she had a strong ego, or being surrounded by so many gorgeous women might begin to bother her.
“Of course,” Connie continued, ceasing her complaints long enough to grin infectiously. “They are spending a lot of money in here while they try to drag information out of me. Sales for the last two days have been fantastic, but, really, you have to give me something I can toss to them. There were four of them in here earlier today, all coming at me at once, and I started to get panicky. But then Matt came in, and they backed off. Oh, by the way, he said to ask you ‘what the hell are you thinking?’ And he said for you to ‘butt out’.”
“Well, you can thank him for his concern and tell him he might try taking his own advice.” Jesse caught herself before going on in greater detail. She shouldn’t be snippy with Connie just because Matthew Oliver continued to be annoyingly overbearing.
“That’s what I told him you’d say.” Connie shook her head, and her silky hair swirled around her face before sliding flawlessly back into place once again. “I’ve said it before, but I can see why you two didn’t make it. You treat each other way too much like brother and sister to have ever been married.”
“You’re about seventeen years too late on the marriage counseling, and since you’re currently married to him yourself, don’t you think it’s kind of a wasted effort?”
“Whoa,” Connie said, shifting gears into the maternal mode that lurked unexpectedly beneath her surface. “You’re not getting sensitive, are you?” She moved closer, her concern obvious. “This stuff is getting to you, isn’t it? I shouldn’t be teasing you right now. I’m sorry.”
Jesse stared into the amazing blue eyes that were so full of compassion and marveled that in the space of less than an hour, she had made two kind and beautiful women apologize for upsetting her when they had, neither one, done anything that needed an apology. Maybe she was beginning to stress out. Maybe she was taking this all too seriously, but what choice did she have?
“I really hate to be babied by someone ten years younger than me,” was what she said aloud.
“Well, you’re such a delicate soul,” was Connie’s response.
“Are you two fighting again?” Matt called from the private, garden entrance at the other end of the room.
“We just made up,” Connie answered with a wink to Jesse.
Hearing Matt’s voice, Jesse felt tears burn the back of her eyes and had to fight the urge to run the distance of the shop and fling herself against his strong, broad shoulders. It was almost embarrassing, on several levels.
“Okay,” she whispered grudgingly to the woman next to her, “so, maybe you’re right. But if he’s my brother, does that make you my sister? Because it seems like it would.”
“Well, sure, silly. Are you just now realizing that?” Connie slipped her arm around Jesse’s waist and gave her the kind of quick hug that always made Jesse intensely uncomfortable. Then, demonstrating the instinct that made her such a valuable friend, Connie released the embrace and stepped away before Jesse gave into her need to wriggle free.
“What are you two whispering about?” Matt emerged from a corridor that snaked down one side of the room, then curved back to the center.
“Just reaffirming the eternal bond of sisterhood,” Jesse said.
“And Jesse’s a little stressed out right now, so go easy on her. You know how everybody always depends on her to fix things when they go wrong.”
Matt came to a halt next to his wife, and they slipped their arms around each other’s waists. “Selfish bastards,” he said as he leaned down and kissed Connie lightly on the lips, then pulled her close to his side.
“Are they beating up on you, kid?” he asked Jesse.
“Well, I hadn’t noticed it until I got here and she started giving me sympathy.” Jesse indicated Connie, who was now tucked tightly into Matt’s left armpit. “Then I just seemed to start falling apart.”
“She’s insidious that way,” Matt sympathized. “Did she give you my message?”
“Yes, and if Vivian’s in trouble, you know I don’t have any choice.”
Connie tilted her head back to stare up at her husband. “She said what I told you she would say.”
“Let’s see, that gives us two ‘butt outs’ and one ‘I told you so’.” Matt smiled at them both. “I think we all need to get a beer and talk about this.”
“I can’t close the shop for at least another hour,” Connie said at the same time Jesse said, “I have a meeting next door that I have to go to.”
“You’re getting those nice ladies in the tea room all involved in this, aren’t you?” he asked with a disapproving frown.
“Those nice ladies waylaid me at six a.m., demanding involvement,” Jesse argued. “And besides, SueAnn is already showing a real flair for this stuff.”
/>
Matt leaned toward his wife and whispered, “That’s why she’s stressed. She’s dragging innocents into this, and now she’s going to be responsible for any danger they’re in.”
“Don’t say that!” Jesse demanded.
Connie’s head pivoted from one to the other as if she were watching a ping-pong match before her gaze finally came to rest on her husband. “Well, really, I sort of did the same thing, but she hasn’t involved me yet. I think I’m starting to feel left out.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He dropped another kiss on her forehead. “She’s going to be involving us both over beers later this evening, right after she gets through involving them even more deeply.” He gave his head a sideways nod toward the tea room across the hall.
“Oh, how wonderful.” Connie looked at him as if he’d just given her a present.
Jesse frowned. “Really?” Then, as she felt her heart lifting, she grinned. “Really? You really want to? Why?”
“For many reasons, not the least of which is that I know Connie’s not going to be able to keep her nose out of it. And the other, not the least of which, is that you need somebody watching your back. And you don’t have that right now.”
“Really?” Jesse wouldn’t say it for the world, but she felt such relief that Matt and Connie might be joining her happy band of incompetents. If the two of them did nothing more than serve as a sounding board for her, their levelheadedness would be invaluable.
It was amazing that what had once been a decent, but unremarkable, marriage had transformed into a wonderful divorce, gifting Jesse with an ex-husband who had become a best friend and his new wife whose generous, accepting spirit had embraced Jesse like family.
“Besides,” Matt said. “I’m friends with Joe Tyler, and if nothing else, I might be able to help keep your goofy butt out of jail, at least for a while.”
So much for warm, fuzzy feelings. Jesse threw back her head and growled, as frustrated as if she were still married to the man.
On her way out the door, Matt called, “We’ll meet you upstairs at five-thirty. I’ll bring the beer.”
Murder, Mayhem and Bliss (Myrtle Grove Garden Club Mystery Book 1) Page 16
