The Body in the Gravel

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The Body in the Gravel Page 18

by Judi Lynn


  He grinned as he told them, “She’s starving, didn’t realize it until she stopped working on a table leg. She’ll be here in a minute.”

  “She can make table legs?” Ansel asked.

  Oh, boy, Jazzi could see a woodworking shop in her future. She put the shredded meat in the taco shells and passed them to the guys. She opened containers filled with diced jalapeños, scallions, and radishes, along with shredded cabbage.

  “No cilantro?” Jerod asked.

  “I don’t like it. Didn’t have any,” she told him.

  “I like it.”

  She gave him a stare. He got the message. “There’s plenty of other stuff,” he decided. He made up two more tacos for Franny, so her plate was ready when she met them at the dining room table.

  “Jerod said you got new toys.” Ansel opened another container of corn taco shells. Two tacos wouldn’t satisfy him and Jerod.

  Franny’s whole face lit up. “I got a used lathe from a carpenter who’s retiring and all the tools that go with it. He had some how-to books for me, too.” She went on, explaining some of the projects she’d played with this morning.

  Ansel listened carefully. “I’ve always wanted to try my hand at woodworking.”

  “Then why don’t you?” Jerod asked. “You’ve got plenty of room for a workshop in your basement.”

  “Stop encouraging him.” Jazzi glanced at her Viking. Too late. His blue eyes gleamed with excitement. She was probably already doomed. He’d talked about dividing the space into two rooms, finishing one as a playroom and keeping the other as a work area.

  Ansel glanced at her. “Would you mind if I built chests and china cabinets down there?”

  “Not as long as the dust doesn’t come upstairs. I’m not that into housekeeping.” During good weather, he spent most of Saturday outdoors working in the yard. Once the weather turned crappy, he’d need something to do. A lathe might be a good fix.

  He grinned. “I’m taking that as approval. I’ll start looking around. Maybe Franny and I can work on projects together.”

  “We could make a cradle and a crib.” Franny looked at Jerod. “We never had a real baby changing table. I could build one.”

  “You have until February,” he told her. “I can help with the simple stuff.”

  They chattered about woodworking all during lunch, then Jazzi helped Franny store the leftovers before she joined the guys downstairs. Franny hurried back to her shed.

  They taped and plastered for the rest of the afternoon. The basement was a big area, and it took longer than they expected. When they finished, Jerod wiped the sweat off his forehead, surveying their work.

  “You guys are the best. I can sand it and paint it during the week. If we get the ceiling up next Saturday, I can do the rest.”

  “You’ll need help putting down indoor-outdoor carpet,” Ansel said.

  “Thane volunteered to help me with that. It’s clumsy, but the two of us can get it down.”

  Ansel nodded, satisfied. “In that case, we’re taking off. We’re going to have a quiet night tonight before everyone shows up for the Sunday meal.”

  “What are you making?” Her cousin always wanted to know what to anticipate.

  “Chicken potpie, a big salad, and a sheet-pan German chocolate cake.” She was taking the easy route and buying rotisserie chickens.

  Jerod patted his stomach. “My pot belly’s starting to shrink. I have to give it some love.”

  Jazzi wasn’t worried about him shriveling to paper thin. “I think you’re making progress.”

  “And it’s all thanks to you.” He gave her a quick hug as she and Ansel headed out the door.

  On the drive home, Ansel asked, “Want to stop at the store on the way? Do you have a list ready?”

  She reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Ta-da! I wrote everything for the whole week. It’s going to take us a while.”

  “Doesn’t bother me. I look at everything in the cart and know it’s future meals.”

  Jazzi glanced at the back seat. “Will it be okay to leave George that long?”

  “He’ll sleep through the whole thing. We’ll lock the doors and crack a window, though, so no one steals him.”

  The pug was so friendly, he’d probably go with anybody who held up a snack for him. When they got into the store, they separated so that Ansel could get all the food on the outside aisles and Jazzi everything she needed in the middle. For better or worse, she knew the store well enough to write out her list that way. They were in the checkout lane in short order, and as Ansel had predicted, George was sleeping when they loaded the bags of groceries into the back of the pickup.

  The cats loved grocery day and came running when they walked in the house. Once Jazzi emptied a brown paper bag, she tossed it on the floor for them to play in. It took half an hour to put everything away, and then they decided to make Sunday’s dessert and get it out of the way, too. One sheet cake wasn’t enough to feed everybody, so they made two.

  As Jazzi melted butter with a cup of water, chunks of German chocolate baking pieces, and shortening, Ansel came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “We agreed to touch more today.” He nestled his face in her wavy hair. She tilted her head to expose her neck, and he nibbled from her collarbone to her jaw.

  Her body tensed, ready for more, but he pulled away. “Your mix is starting to boil.”

  Nuts! She stirred it faster, then turned off the heat.

  “I can’t concentrate when you’re making me all hot and bothered.” She motioned for him to start mixing the flour and sugar together in another bowl. When it was ready, she poured the chocolate mix over it. Then she combined the rest of the ingredients and added those, too. She sprayed a pan, and Ansel poured the mix into it. They slid it into the oven, then started the same recipe over again. Jazzi wasn’t sure if it would work if she doubled it.

  While the cakes baked, they each made a batch of coconut pecan frosting. Ansel shook his head. “The hardest part of making things ahead is not eating them until everyone gets here.”

  She was tempted, too—by the cakes and Ansel—but she wanted to have a relaxing day tomorrow, so she moved on to making the filling for the chicken potpies. Instead of rolling pie crusts for the top, she decided to make drop cheddar biscuits. She’d whip those up tomorrow, along with a big tossed salad.

  Every time she or Ansel passed each other, they reached out to touch or hug. When the cooking was done and the kitchen was clean, they stopped for a serious embrace.

  “You fit just right in my arms.” Ansel gently rubbed his chin on the top of her head.

  She tipped her head for a kiss when his stomach rumbled. Laughing, she looked at the kitchen clock. “We cooked for tomorrow instead of fixing supper. Your tacos must be long gone.”

  “I’m hungry,” he admitted. “Let’s throw two pork chops on the grill.”

  She added fresh asparagus stalks to grill, too, and soon they were eating supper. George and the cats had already begged for pieces of rotisserie chicken when she made the potpies, so they tossed them only a couple of small slices.

  “That’s enough for you, bud,” Ansel told the pug, and George wandered back to his dog bed. The cats sprawled across the floor and waited to see where she and Ansel would go next. When they finished up and headed to the living room, the cats sprinted ahead of them. Couch time.

  Ansel slid his scary movie into the DVR and scooted closer to the back of the couch to make room for her. She curled into him, and the cats took up spots on the back of the sofa. George, as usual, pressed into his spot by Ansel’s feet. They were snug, but happy, and when the movie ended and Ansel told George, “Wait here,” the pets expected it.

  They’d had a perfect day. Not one mention of Darby or murder, no thumbing through suspects.

  Chapter 39


  Sunday’s meal was easy. She and Ansel lounged on the couches, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper until noon. Ansel looked through the classified ads and found a lathe on sale that he wanted to look at. Then they hustled to shower and dress before Ansel started the tossed salad. All Jazzi had to do was make the cheddar drop biscuits, plop them on top of the chicken potpie filling, and slide them in the oven.

  Jerod and Franny arrived with their kids ten minutes early, but Jazzi had put out chips and dips to munch on before the meal started. Franny added her fresh vegetable platter to the table. When Jazzi’s mom and dad arrived, she told them about her new endeavor of making furniture. Gran and Samantha came to listen, and Jazzi fetched Gran a glass of red wine. Samantha opted for water. Jerod’s parents, Eli and Eleanore, soon joined them, and as usual, Olivia arrived last with Thane and Walker.

  The mood was relaxed until Cyn asked Walker, “How’s everything going?”

  “My mom’s a mess.” He nodded a thanks to Thane for bringing him a bottle of beer. “Gaff questioned her and Gene when they drove up to see me. Gene never told her that he’d come to River Bluffs to confront my dad and tell him to quit harassing her.”

  Cynthia, Jazzi’s mom, looked shocked. “When was that?”

  “The night Dad died. Gene waited to drive here until Mom was asleep, and then he waited as long as he could to have it out with Dad, but he never saw him. Dad was probably dead by then.”

  “Had things gotten that bad between your mom and dad?”

  Walker nodded. “Dad called and harassed her a few times a week until Gene blocked his calls on his and her cells, even their home phone. Then Dad drove to Ohio to harangue her.”

  Doogie wrapped a protective arm around Cyn’s waist. “I’d reach my limit with that, too, if I were Gene.”

  But Cyn shook her head, an obstinate look on her face. “I know what it feels like to be lied to. It ruins your trust in the other person. Gene didn’t level with your mom. I’m sure your mom doesn’t think he killed Darby, but that little seed of doubt might be buried somewhere.”

  Doogie disagreed. “He came secretly so he wouldn’t upset her. So why would he confess about coming at all? He’d know she’d worry about that more. Besides, how would he know Darby was buried under gravel in a dump truck? In his mind, it was a wasted trip. Darby never showed up.”

  “That’s what he says.” Jerod drained his beer and shrugged. “Would you admit it if you lost your temper and accidentally killed someone?”

  Walker glared. “Gene wouldn’t pick up a shovel and hit someone with it.”

  “I don’t think he did,” Jerod said. “But who’d be stupid enough to own up to it if no one could prove it? Let’s face it, Gene wouldn’t have confessed to coming in the first place if Gaff hadn’t asked him about his black SUV and Andy hadn’t seen it.”

  Thane looked rattled. “He did what Andy did. He thought if he just kept quiet, no one would ever know.”

  Cyn stabbed a finger at the men, determined to make her point. “When Gaff told Walker’s mom that Darby was dead, Gene should have told Rose everything then and there.”

  Gran interrupted. “Darby should have never taken that money.”

  They all turned to her, surprised.

  Walker gave her a sharp look. “What money?”

  “He should have given it back to Whiskers.” Gran’s attention slid to the small plate Jerod was holding. “Those look good.” Dropping the conversation, she went to the island for some chips and dip. These days, Gran could change topics in mid-paragraph. Sometimes, Jazzi couldn’t keep up with her. And when she reverted to the past and thought Jazzi was her dead sister, Sarah, Jazzi just went with the flow.

  But Gran’s comments made Jazzi remember what the Shots and Spirits bartender had told them. “Darby and Whiskers were arguing about money lately. That’s why they got in a fistfight at the grocery store.”

  Walker ran a hand through his thick chestnut hair. “How much money was involved? Do you know?”

  “No, but I’m going with Gaff to talk to Whiskers on Tuesday.”

  “Will you tell me what you find out? Dad had a note in the ledger book that he borrowed three thousand dollars and needed to repay it, but he didn’t write down who he borrowed it from.”

  Gunther ran past the kitchen island, and Jerod scooped him up. “No running in the house.” Then he said to Walker, “I’d guess it was Whiskers.”

  Walker handed Thane his empty bottle when he started to reach for it. “At least, that’s something I can fix. I can pay back the money. And I can gut Dad’s house and completely redo it so that it feels fresh and new. Staying in the same, old surroundings didn’t help Mom. It brought back too many unhappy memories. Between that and learning about Gene sneaking here while she slept, this wasn’t the best trip for her.”

  Thane nodded. “I can help you with renovations. I learned a lot when I worked with these guys.”

  Walker turned to him, grateful. “I was thinking that when business crawls to a stop, that would be a good time for me to tackle the house.”

  “Let us know, and we’ll pitch in,” Thane told him.

  “We?” Jazzi frowned, but Ansel and Jerod nodded.

  Jerod grinned at her. “Come on, cuz. We can help with the big stuff, then Thane and Walker can do the rest.”

  She sighed. She supposed she was all right with that, but she was tired of working Saturdays, and Walker would be starting up in early December. The holidays always got busy. She’d be scrambling to put up Christmas decorations and baking cookies.

  Cyn tried to change to a happier topic. “Are you excited about seeing your sister at the wedding, Ansel?”

  He scowled. “Did Jazzi tell you that my whole family’s coming?”

  With a sympathetic groan, Cyn reached for the bottle of red wine and refilled her glass. “Even the big brother who cheated you out of your inheritance?”

  “My sister and her husband, my brother Radley, my oldest brother, and my parents who were perfectly happy to go along with his plans.”

  “Good lord. You’re still going to have a wonderful day, aren’t you?” Cyn looked worried.

  Jazzi went to put an arm around her. Doogie held one side of her, and she held the other. “We’re not going to let anyone spoil our celebration. Since Adda pressured Ansel into inviting them, he warned her that she’s the one who’s going to have to keep them happy. He doesn’t want anything to do with them.”

  “Then why invite them?” Jerod asked. Jazzi rolled her eyes at him, but her cousin rarely deviated from the direct approach. Tact wasn’t one of his strengths.

  Ansel was used to him, though. “I want Adda and my brother Radley to feel welcome. Dad and Bain would give Radley so much grief that he couldn’t come without them.”

  “Oh my.” Cyn wasn’t sure what to make of that, but she’d had her share of family turmoil when she was first married. Her sister Lynda had provided plenty of angst for all of them.

  Doogie rubbed his hands together and gave a meaningful glance at the long farm table. “Maybe we should eat.”

  Thank heavens! It was time to concentrate on food. “Grab a plate while I put the food on the island. Then we can dish up.”

  Once everyone was settled at the table, the mood cheered up again. George went person to person to beg for scraps, and the cats ditched the party to claim their spots on the living room sofas.

  Gran took a bite of the potpie pie and grinned. “You were always the best cook in the family, Sarah.”

  She reverted to the past when the atmosphere became tense. No matter. Jazzi smiled at her. “Thanks, Gran. I learned from the best. You let me tag along in your kitchen.”

  “You’re going to make Cal a wonderful wife.” Cal had been engaged to Jazzi’s Aunt Lynda. Poor Gran had them all mixed up today.

  The conversation turned back to the
upcoming wedding, and Walker raised his beer bottle in a toast to them. “To happy ever after! Thanks for inviting me. Earl and Bea announced to the whole crew that they’re getting married soon. They’ll be good for each other.”

  Jazzi raised her wineglass. “Here’s to Earl and Bea!”

  They drank another round, and Walker looked thoughtful. “It’s made me realize I’m not getting any younger. Thane’s got someone now, and I’m a few months older than he is. Mom’s happily married. She doesn’t need me anymore. I’d like to find someone special.”

  “Use a dating website,” Eli said. “That’s the modern way, isn’t it?” Jerod’s dad loved to spend time on his tablet.

  Walker grinned. “I’ve tried, and I met some really unique girls that way. For now, I want to go the old-fashioned route.”

  “Bars?” Jerod asked.

  Franny kicked him under the table, and he flinched. “That hurt.”

  She ignored him.

  “You could join a club,” Olivia suggested.

  Walker took all of their comments in stride. “First, I have to get everything settled about Dad’s death.” None of them used the word murder. “Once that’s behind me, I need to get out and about more.”

  “When you’re ready, you’ll find the right girl,” Ansel told him. “You have looks and personality. Most girls won’t turn you away.”

  If he’d taken his own advice, he wouldn’t have ended up with Emily—she of the controlling personality, but Jazzi let that pass. Instead she said, “I hope you guys saved room for dessert.”

  Chairs scraped, and people lined up for German chocolate sheet cake. Jazzi considered the meal, paired with red wine, a success. And tomorrow she was going shopping with her mom and Olivia. At first, she’d dreaded that excursion, but now she looked forward to it. She’d buy something so pretty, it would take Ansel’s breath away, and he wouldn’t even think about his family invading their ceremony.

  Chapter 40

  On Monday, Jazzi helped Ansel load the cooler full of sandwiches and chips, along with the coffee thermoses, into his van. George whined, upset, when she didn’t climb in with them. She waved as Ansel backed out of the drive, then once they were on their way, she went upstairs to finish getting ready—applying her makeup with care and slipping on a dress that buttoned from its scooped neckline to its mid-calf hem. She wore heels, even though she’d be on her feet all day, because Olivia had warned her to wear the kind of shoes she’d wear to her wedding. That way, she’d know if the dress she chose was the right length.

 

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