by Judi Lynn
Ready, she gave Inky and Marmalade one last session of petting before walking out the door. Glancing at the trees at the back of their property, behind the pond, she noticed that half of them were leafless. By their wedding, all of them would be bare. As she watched, two deer came out of the woods to eat grass. She knew many farmers considered them pests, but she stood for a moment, enjoying their beauty. A gust of wind whipped her loose hair into her face, and she shook herself. Time to shop.
She drove to Olivia’s house, where Cyn was probably already waiting for her. Both women walked out of her sister’s ranch-style house when she pulled in the drive and idled the truck. Olivia wore skintight, lipstick-red pants with a black sweater, tugged in at the waistline with a red belt. Red stilettos completed the look. Her mom wore a long cobalt-blue skirt with a white, long-sleeved top. Her heels were more modest.
Olivia motioned for Jazzi to park. “There’s no way I’m crawling in and out of your pickup,” she called. “I’ll drive.”
If Jazzi were Catholic, she’d have made the sign of the cross. Her sister drove fast or faster. But they’d all survived this long, so she slid onto Olivia’s back seat and braced herself.
Mom’s face was wreathed with smiles. “We finally have you for a whole day of shopping. That hasn’t happened since I took you shopping for school clothes at the end of every August.”
Jazzi laughed, remembering. She and Olivia had always looked forward to their annual outing. They were told to find an appropriate outfit for each day of the week, plus two pairs of jeans for after school and weekends. They tried on khakis and leggings, skirts that touched the floor when they knelt—too short wasn’t allowed—and a variety of tops. They also chose two Sunday dresses for church. When they were young, their mother was a stickler about their Sabbath wear, but once they reached their teens, their dress code loosened up a bit.
“I don’t know which I looked forward to more—the clothes or picking a new book bag and school supplies.” Jazzi said.
Olivia snorted. “You always got so excited about new markers. You were good at drawing back then. Do you still ever do it?”
“No. Now I draw up house plans. Not the same thing.”
“But that artistic side of you is what makes your houses turn out so pretty,” Cyn said.
Olivia drove them to a wedding shop on the north side of town. “Do you still have your wedding dress, Mom?” They’d looked in Mom’s photo albums, and she looked lovely in a long taffeta dress with a train.
“No, I kept it for years until I realized that after having children, I’d never fit in it again.”
Jazzi stared at her, surprised. “But you’re thin.”
“Things shift,” Cyn said. “I’m close to the same weight, but that weight’s not in the same places.”
With a shrug, Jazzi kicked that worry to the curb. “You still look good.”
“Well, thank you, but I donated the dress to the Salvation Army. I hope some girl felt like a princess, like I did, when she got married in it.”
Olivia parked, and on the walk inside, she told Jazzi, “That’s how we want you to feel. Like a princess. So don’t just buy a dress to get this over with. Take your time and find the right one.”
“I want to make Ansel’s jaw drop.” There, she’d said it.
Olivia giggled. “That won’t be hard. That man thinks you’re everything and more.”
“That’s how a man should feel about his wife,” Cyn told them. “Your dad still thinks I’m the prettiest woman in every room. He’s delusional, but I love him for it.”
They were laughing when they stepped through the shop’s door. The clerk let them look around a bit before she offered to help them.
Jazzi ruled out anything full-length. The dresses were so beautiful, they took her breath away, but they weren’t what she wanted. “We’re getting married in our home. I want a dress that’s mid-calf, like the one I have on.”
The clerk led them to one row of dresses after another. Jazzi liked one that flared at the waist, but the beadwork felt a little fussy to her. Another fluffed with a chiffon skirt, but it felt too girly. Finally, she saw an ivory-colored dress with a boat collar and a fitted top that flowed into soft folds that stopped just below her knees. She reached out to touch the soft fabric.
Her mom looked at her face and smiled. “That’s the one. Try it on.”
It must be destiny, because it was a perfect fit. When she stepped out of the dressing room, she could hear Olivia and Cyn inhale quick breaths. That was the effect she wanted from Ansel. With a quick nod, she said, “I’ll take it.”
Next came choosing a veil. She went with something simple—a single layer with a beaded hem. She bought a garter, too. Then Olivia drove to a shoe store, and to everyone’s surprise, including hers, Jazzi chose a pair of daring red high heels.
Olivia rushed to hug her. “Who knew my sister had a funky side?”
The next stop caught Jazzi by surprise. “I know you two live together, but this is your wedding. You have to buy something extra sexy.” And Victoria’s Secret had an abundance of that. She bought scanty lace underwear and a nightgown to remember. She bought the robe, too, not that either of them hid much.
While Olivia waited for her to make her pick, she shopped, too. Armed with a push-up bra and matching thong, she gave an evil smile. “Thane’s going to have a good night tonight.”
Jazzi secretly believed that was never in question, but she kept her opinion to herself.
They stashed all of their purchases in the car’s trunk and headed south to have lunch on the Deck at the Old Gas House. It was a brisk day, but not chilly, and since they were in long sleeves, it felt good to sit outdoors. Two kayaks glided past them on the river while the waiter took their order. All three of them chose the beef tenderloin main-dish salad and a glass of wine.
Mom took a sip of her Chablis before asking, “Do you have everything under control for the big day?”
Jazzi nodded. “We ordered a cake. We decided on the menu, and none of it’s too time-consuming.” When Cyn looked disappointed, she hurried to add, “Ansel’s excited about helping me get everything ready. We’re making beef tenderloins and pork tenderloins with a cherry glaze. Both easy. Lots of kinds of bruschetta.”
“Like the ones you make with the pureed beans?” Olivia asked.
“We were thinking of fancier this time—a blueberry lemon ricotta topping, a Greek topping, and smoked salmon.”
“Mmm, what else?” Cyn asked.
“Shrimp and pineapple flatbreads, crab and bacon endive boats, small crab cakes…” Jazzi paused. “More, but I’d have to look at my list.”
Mom rubbed her hands together. “I’m not eating a thing all day until your party.”
“What about decorations?” Olivia glanced at the candles on the table. “Are you okay with those?”
“I ordered lots of flowers and votive candles. I think we’re in good shape.”
The waiter came with their food, and they paused until he left. Then Olivia asked, “How bummed out is Ansel going to be about having his parents and Bain there?”
“It rankles. They knew he didn’t want them. I wouldn’t have the nerve to go someplace I knew I wasn’t welcome, but Bain seems to think he should get what he wants.”
“Was he always the chosen one?” Cyn asked.
“It sounds like it. He and his dad rule the house. Mostly, he inherited his dad’s aggressive personality. Ansel told me he’s an in-your-face kind of guy. That, and no one ever stands up to him.” Jazzi stabbed some beef and lettuce with her fork. “If you ask me, I think he’s jealous of Ansel. Bain might have inherited the farm, but Ansel inherited the looks and brains. Some rich girl threw herself at him when he went home to help on the farm when Bain broke his leg and his dad had knee surgery.”
Mom drizzled more French dressing on her sala
d. “Sounds to me like Ansel got lucky when they gave him the boot. If not for that, he might have been stuck with them for life.”
Olivia laughed. “I wish I knew some girl I disliked enough to introduce to Bain.”
“What about Radley?” Cyn asked.
“He sounds pretty nice. The rich girl was after him for a while, but he didn’t want anything to do with her. That irritated Bain. He thought if Radley hooked up with her, they could plug into some of her money.”
Mom set down her wineglass harder than usual. “You’re making Bain sound like a completely miserable human being.”
Jazzi shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.” She had no intention of letting Bain throw his weight around in her house. She’d pay to put him up in a cheap motel if she had to, and if he irritated Jerod enough, her cousin would keep needling him until he’d be happy to go.
The discussion turned to the flowers she’d ordered.
“Why pink roses instead of red?” Olivia fussed.
“Because they’re my favorites. You can have red at your wedding.”
By the time they finished their meal, they were giggling and silly, ready to drive to get their manicures and pedicures. Jazzi usually got restless when she had to sit still so long, but Cyn and Olivia kept her talking through the whole ordeal, so she had a good time.
She ended her day before Ansel did and beat him home. He and Jerod were painting window trim on all of the higher windows today. The cats attacked her at the door, and she faithfully petted them before carrying all the boxes upstairs and hiding them in the guest closet. She didn’t think Ansel would try to peek at her dress, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
When he finally dragged himself in the back door close to six, she had two big steaks ready to throw on the grill. He set George on the floor and grinned. “Your nails look pretty.”
It was just like him to notice her manicure before spying the steak. “Thanks, I think this shade of pink will match my wedding bouquet.”
“Did you find a dress?”
She smiled. “It makes me feel like a princess. How was your day?”
“We missed you. It took longer to paint everything ourselves.”
She laughed. “I thought you might come home starving. I made potato salad and green beans, too.”
“Beautiful and kind. That’s why George and I love you.”
They each shared the events of their day while they cooked supper and ate. When they finished and George padded to his dog bed to lie down, Jazzi shooed Ansel away. “There’s not much to clean up. Go take a shower and hit the couch. I’ll be there soon.”
He’d usually argue, but not tonight. The poor man was drooping. On his way up the steps, he called, “When does Gaff come for you tomorrow night?”
“Four-thirty. We’re going to Shots and Spirits to talk to Whiskers and Haze. We won’t spend long with Whiskers. He’s not the chatty type.”
“We’ll have a good start on the inside projects by then. We got lucky getting everything done outdoors. It’s supposed to rain tonight and keep raining for the rest of the week.”
It felt good to have some of the pressure off. They wouldn’t be in such a rush from now on. While Ansel showered and changed into his pajamas, Jazzi looked out the kitchen window while she rinsed their dirty dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. She saw the first raindrops splatter on the cement patio, watched the sky grow darker, and dried her hands just when the downpour started.
She and Ansel met at their couches and settled in to relax. The cats jumped up to snuggle with her, and George curled at Ansel’s feet. The perfect way to spend a rainy night. She thought about her day and smiled. Who knew shopping could be so much fun? She might have to try it again with her mom and Olivia. It was too bad Ansel’s sister didn’t live in town. They could take her with them. Jazzi would have to keep that in mind. Maybe later in the year, they could invite Adda and her husband to stay with them again, as long as they came alone. No parents or Bain. She dreaded seeing them at her wedding. If they so much as said one nasty thing to Ansel, she’d sprinkle cayenne on everything she served them.
Chapter 41
On Tuesday, Jazzi was back in her worn jeans and work boots. When she and Ansel pulled into the fixer-upper’s driveway, they left George in the van for a minute, took the big umbrella, and huddled under it to appreciate how the outside of the house had turned out. They’d boosted its curb appeal so high, people slowed down when they drove by to get a better look at it.
“I didn’t think we could make it look this good,” Ansel told her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze. “You’ve got a good eye—among other things.”
She grinned up at him. “It came out better than I expected. It’s always nice when that happens.”
Feeling satisfied with themselves, they returned to the van to lug things into the house and start work. Rain pummeled the ground outside and bounced off the metal porch roofs. Ansel and Jerod had sawed through the drywall to create a larger opening between the dining room and living room. Jazzi gave it a kick to knock the unwanted pieces out of the way.
“Buyers are going to like this open feel,” Jerod said, bending to pick up the fallen chunks and toss them in a trash bag.
“If the owner buys a table with enough leaves, he could seat as many people in here as we do at our house.” Ansel grabbed a broom to sweep the dust and dirt into a pile.
“It would be more crowded.” Jazzi bent with a dustpan to scoop up debris.
“Who wants to cook for that many people besides you two masochists?” Jerod asked.
“I like cooking,” Jazzi said, defending herself.
Jerod threw the last of the broken drywall into the bag. “Besides, how many people design their houses to have the entertaining space you two have? You should have gone into catering instead of house flipping.”
“Ugh.” Jazzi wrinkled her nose, disgusted. “Then it wouldn’t be fun. It would be work.”
While the guys put the finishing touches on the new, bigger arch, Jazzi stepped inside the first floor’s half bath. She grabbed the medicine cabinet over the sink and ripped it from the wall. It joined the drywall in the heavy trash bag. They’d already turned off the water, so she unhooked the sink and carried it outside. She left it on the back porch. There was no way she was dashing to the dumpster. The half bath wasn’t a big space, but it served the purpose. There were two more bathrooms on the second floor and another on the third. They’d be a good selling point when they listed the place.
Ansel and Jerod carried out the old toilet, and Jazzi started prying up the chipped ceramic floor tiles. When the downstairs was gutted and cleaned, she started sanding the floors while the guys moved to the second floor. The wood in the living and dining rooms could be refinished, but the kitchen and bathroom floors were too rough. They decided not to try to match the new wood to the old and to go with tiles instead.
By the time Gaff came for her, she’d finished sanding and joined Jerod and Ansel to install blue kitchen tiles with a white pattern. They were going with white kitchen cupboards, butcher-block counter-tops, and blue tiles for a backsplash.
Gaff came to peek at their work. “Ann’s never allowed in one of your fixer-uppers. She’ll want to redo most of our house. I already have a long enough honey-do list.”
“Getting any closer to finding a killer?” Jerod asked.
“Yeah, just not for this case.” When Jerod snarled, Gaff chuckled. “Ready?” he asked Jazzi.
She grabbed her raincoat and hurried to his car with him. Once inside, she asked, “How seriously are you taking Walker’s dad as a suspect?”
“I hate to say it, but he’s at the top of my list. He was there. He was tired of dealing with Darby. And he was serious about keeping him away from Rose.”
After the Sunday meal, listening to Jerod make those
same points, Jazzi had reluctantly put Gene at the top of her list, too.
Gaff pulled from the curb and smiled. “But that could change today. Maybe Whiskers and Haze will point us in a new direction.”
They hadn’t before, but stranger things had happened.
Driving to the bar, they had to take a different route than usual. One of the city’s underpasses was flooded. Gaff blasted cool air on the windshield to keep it from fogging over as the car’s wipers flashed back and forth. The rain pounded the car so loudly, Jazzi felt like she was trapped inside a drum with the slap, slap, slap of the wipers as a steady rhythm.
When they pulled to the curb at the side of the building, not that many cars lined the street. People were hibernating tonight to stay dry. Before heading to the bar, they hurried down the sidewalk to Whiskers’s house. A tiny roof covered the front stoop, so their pant legs were sticking to them by the time Whiskers opened the door. He glanced at them and grimaced but motioned them inside.
Two lamps glowed in the living room, unable to compete with the gray of the day. The foyer loomed with gloom and shadows. Gaff closed his umbrella and left it near the front door, and Jazzi took off her raincoat. There was no place to hang it. She hated to drip water on Whiskers’s floor, so she said, “What do you want me to do with this?”
Whiskers draped it on the bottom post of the stair railing, letting a puddle form beneath it. Then they followed him farther into the house. Newspapers were scattered on the floor in front of the couch, weighted down by an empty coffee cup. He stepped over them to flop down, and they took the two uncomfortable wooden chairs across from him. Jazzi’s chair wiggled enough, she worried that it might come apart.
