Jake nodded. “Moving on is fine, Jolie. From what Sadie told me, you definitely need to.” He hesitated. “That said, please keep in mind that everything you do, especially over the coming weeks, will be under intense scrutiny and-- “ He poked his tongue in his cheek. “--it’ll make my job a whole lot easier if you aren’t doing things that make you look guilty.”
“Like dancing on his grave?” she suggested innocently.
Surprised jimmied a chuckle loose in his throat and he shot her a startled look. “Yes. Dancing on his grave wouldn’t be a good thing.”
She made an exaggerated moue of disappointment. “There went that plan.”
He passed a hand over his face, trying to wipe away his smile. “If there’s anything you need to tell me, now would be a good time. I don’t want any more surprises.”
Jolie felt a blanket of guilt settle over her shoulders as she shook her head. She hated lying to him, but she couldn’t out the FWC. Too many members were still shackled to bastard husbands and the FWC was the only thing making their lives bearable. God knows the past two weeks she’d spent as a member had made her feel tremendously better. She couldn’t tell him.
“Sadie seemed to think that Dean might pull you from this case,” Jolie said, opting to change the subject. “Is that going to happen?”
To her vast relief, Jake shook his head. “No. He wanted to, but was, er, persuaded to let me keep lead. I was given strict instructions to keep Dean up to date...and stick to you like glue,” he added.
Jolie repressed a shudder as another so-called inappropriate thought flitted through her head. Though she knew he’d meant to scare her--or warn her, most likely--her thoughts had instantly turned in another direction. She knew what it was like to have Jake stick to her like glue. Not only did he possess a damned fine adhesive--he knew how to use it. In the past he’d been very adept at making her fall apart...then putting her back together. A bittersweet pang squeezed her chest. It was just one of the many things she missed about him.
She blinked, tried to pull her thoughts back together. When she looked up, Jake was watching her closely, wearing an odd expression. “Er...does Dean know about Emily?” Jolie asked, once again fishing for a subject change.
He leaned back once more, passed a hand over his face. “He does. Mike and I told him last night.”
“How did he take it?”
“She’s moving out. They’re finished.”
Damn Chris’s hide, Jolie thought, angry and disgusted. “I’m sorry,” she said, wishing there was something she could do to make things right.
“For what?” Jake asked. “Wasn’t your fault.”
“Maybe not directly, but I’m the one who brought him here.” She looked away, picked at a loose thread. “You have no idea how much I regret it.”
“It’s still not your fault, Jolie,” Jake insisted. “Emily’s a big girl. She knew what she was doing and, according to Dean, this wasn’t the first time. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“The sonofabitch never could keep it in his pants,” she muttered, unable to let it go. Dean was a good man. He deserved better. And she didn’t care what Jake said, while she might not be completely to blame, she was indirectly at fault. She’d brought him here, had infected her town with his cancerous--
A bark of laughter erupted from Jake’s throat. “And still can’t. We still haven’t found it.”
Confused, Jolie glanced up. “Found what?”
Jake’s eyes widened in belated regret, he shifted and swore hotly. “Christ,” he muttered. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Found what?” she repeated. She had a sickening suspicion, but surely he didn’t mean what she thought he meant.
“His penis,” Jake finally told her. “His killer castrated him.”
Jolie gaped, equally horrified and revolted.
“You, uh, must not have noticed.”
She snorted. “No, I didn’t. I lost interest in Chris’s penis a long time ago. Other than documenting who he’d been sticking it to for my divorce file, that is.” Jolie shook her head, unable to make it process and though she knew it was horrible, she had the almost overwhelming urge to laugh, could feel her lips twitching. There was something very satisfying about poetic justice.
“Do you have any idea who might have done this?” Jake asked her.
She harrumphed. “Anyone in particular? No. But I’ll give you everything I’ve got in my file. I’ve been keeping up with everything--the shady business dealings and adultery--for the divorce. Dean’s wife wasn’t the only woman he was screwing around with. He wasn’t particular, I can tell you that. Nor was he very smart.” Jolie chewed the corner of her mouth, looked up. “I know he’s your boss, but are you sure Dean didn’t know about Emily before last night? I know Chris had been going to their house.”
Jake shook his head. “He didn’t. I’m sure of it.”
Since it was that same assurance that told him she was innocent, Jolie didn’t argue. Most likely Jake was right. Still, Chris’s hijacked dick shed a whole new light on things. That was personal. Someone really hated him. Come to think of it, Jolie decided, lots of people really hated him and each one of them with good reason. Jake wouldn’t find himself short on suspects, that was for sure. For her part, however, she just wanted it over with. And to that end, she needed to be able to bury him, her last official act as his wife.
“Er...any idea when I’ll be able to arrange the funeral?” she asked him.
“The M.E. should be finished with the body in another day or so. Just get in touch with Andy and he’ll handle that end of it.”
Jolie nodded, felt relief melt her spine. A couple of more days, then that would be it. Her life would be her own again. Or at least as much her own as she could make it while she was a murder suspect, anyway.
“Did Chris have any family?” Jake asked curiously.
“No,” she deadpanned. “He sprung fully grown from the loins of Satan.”
Jake’s lips twitched and he shot her a look. “That’s cold, Jo.”
She smiled, then let go a small sigh. “I honestly don’t know. He told me a tragic story about his parents being in a car accident. At the time I bought it, but now... I dunno.” She shook her head. “He told so many lies. If he’s got any family, they’ve never contacted him or vice versa.”
Jake seemed to be mulling that over. Finally, he gestured toward the tape recorder. “We should probably get started.”
“Okay.”
“Mind if I come by later and pick up that file you told me about?”
“Not at all,” she replied. “It’s in the apartment above Sadie’s shop. Keeping it at the office or in the house was too risky.”
“Makes sense. Had you contacted an attorney about the divorce?”
“I had. Lanny James.”
Jake whistled low and his gaze seemed to sharpen. “Pulling out a big gun, eh?”
Jolie smiled, shrugged. “I was in for a fight. I knew Lanny had a better shot than most to handle him.” Lanny had been looking forward to it, too, Jolie thought. He was an old dog who didn’t bark, just bit, which made him one helluva divorce attorney. He’d given her invaluable advice, had encouraged her to start the file. He didn’t go into a courtroom without the ammunition to annihilate an opponent. Chris’s death had robbed her of that satisfaction, but at least this way she was spared the mess and expense.
“I’ll have to talk to him,” Jake said, shooting her a level look.
Her lips slid into an unconcerned smile. “Talk to whoever you have to, Jake. I’m innocent. Nothing you’re gonna find will change that.”
That silver gaze caught and held hers, momentarily sucking the air from her lungs. “Am I gonna find anything else that will challenge it?”
Depended on where he looked, Jolie thought, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Let’s hope not,” she replied, forcing a smile.
His gaze narrowed, instantly seeing through her flimsy, evasive answer and he muttered an e
xasperated curse. “Can’t you see that I’m on your side? That I’m trying to help you? Why are you making this harder than it has to be?”
“You’re the detective, Jake. Figure it out.”
He managed a weak grin. “Very cute, Jo. I’m just not sure you understand the gravity of the situation. If any other detective had this case, alibi or no, you’d make a very convenient suspect.”
She crossed her legs and leaned back in her seat, ignored the frightened shiver that tripped down her spine. “I do understand that, but being a convenient suspect doesn’t make me guilty. The truth will speak for itself.” She had to believe that.
He lifted a sardonic brow. “And I’m sure all the innocent people on death row had the same opinion.”
He was trying to scare her, and to her discomfort, it was working. Still, she couldn’t tell him about the FWC. She couldn’t betray her fellow Future Widows and furthermore, telling him about them wasn’t going help him, wouldn’t do one damn thing for his investigation. Jolie lifted her chin, but refused to respond.
Looking extremely put-out, Jake heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. We’ll do it the hard way. What time do you want to meet me at the apartment?”
“Whenever works best for you,” she said sweetly, willing to be partly accommodating.
He grunted. “Six, then.”
“I’ll see you there.”
Jake blew out another breath, rubbed his eyes, then to her vast relief finally flipped on the recorder. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s start at the beginning...”
CHAPTER 19
Arms crossed over his chest, Jake stood in Sadie’s shop and peered out her storefront window across the square, watching Jolie tape a sign to the inside window of Marshall, Inc., presumably one announcing Marshall’s death. She wore a pair of khaki slacks and a form-fitting ribbed shirt that hugged her curves, the very ones he’s spent too much time thinking about this morning while she’d been in his office, Jake thought, doing his damnedest to ignore the commingled flash of heat and affection that warmed both his heart and his groin.
She’d pulled that thick, striking hair back into a sleek ponytail and secured it with a stylish patterned scarf. Gold hoops dangled in her ears and despite the fact that she’d had very little sleep, she looked curiously refreshed. Her lips were curled in the faintest hint of a smile and the tension she’d seemed to have carried around for the past couple of years had lessoned, making her, if possible, even more beautiful than she’d already been.
Last night when Mike had called him, Jake had realized then what he was in for. He’d known that he’d have to talk to Jolie, be around her, particularly if the investigation played out the way he’d assumed. And for the most part, it had. He’d been simultaneously filled with anticipation and dread, with longing and regret. He’d braced himself, had literally felt every muscle clench in preparation for what simply being in her presence would do to him.
He couldn’t be around her without going into sensory and emotional overload. That smooth vanilla scent, silky laugh, the sweet curve of her familiar face. Between those things and the ever-present hum of awareness--the sheer need to simply feel her body against his, the brush of her hair beneath his chin--he’d been in a state of weary but pleasant agony for the better part of twenty-four hours.
This morning when she’d walked into this office, every cell in his body had reacted to her presence. He’d felt her in his blood, in his very bones. At first he’d avoided looking at her because he’d known the instant his eyes met hers, he’d lose his breath. An odd, not altogether pleasant feeling that was for damned sure, Jake thought with a silent chuckle. Even knowing about the life insurance and pre-burial plan--even knowing that she’d gotten herself into this mess and that she planned to hold out on him--hadn’t lessened the impact.
Nevertheless, focusing on the job ahead and keeping her delectable little ass out of jail had to take top priority.
He’d spent the majority of the day at the house, going over the scene once more. He’d combed the house from end to end, had spent a lot of time walking the yard, making sure that he hadn’t missed anything the night before. He was convinced that whoever had entered the house had done so by way of the front door. It would have taken too much time to heave the garage doors up and out of the way to go in via that entrance and the back gate had been padlocked.
Which meant the killer had to have entered from the front and, given that, one could reasonably assume that someone had seen something, whether they knew it or not.
To that end, Jake had spent a couple of hours canvassing the neighborhood. Unfortunately, while none of Marshall’s neighbors were particularly concerned that he was dead--and more than one had seemed almost ghoulishly delighted--not a single one of them had noticed anything out of the ordinary.
From her vantage point in the kitchen, Mrs. Dotson across the street had noticed Jolie leave, but had said that one of her children had decided to give their pet hamster swimming lessons in the commode and she’d been forced to abandon the dinner dishes. It was after dark when she’d returned to the sink and by then she said she’d been so tired that she wouldn’t have noticed Freddy Krueger lurking in the bushes.
Whoever had waltzed into that house hadn’t looked out of place, had looked like they belonged there, or at the very least had a legitimate excuse for being there. Taking that into consideration had left him with the unhappy task of checking out Jolie’s close friends and family, namely Sadie and Fran. Did he think either one of them did it? Gut instinct told him no. But the sooner he ruled them out, the sooner he could move on with the investigation.
Jolie was the epicenter--he had to work the circle closest to her, then fan out.
He’d purposely arrived at The Spa a little early to get a read on Sadie. Sadie loved Jolie, he knew. They’d been playpen playmates--their parents had been friends--and had ended up having more of a sisterly bond as a result of that longtime acquaintance.
Sadie had been very emotional when she’d talked to him following the night Chris had hit her friend; she’d complained of Jolie’s stubborn streak with exasperated affection--one he completely understood--and she’d called Chris a “mean-spirited bastard.” Jake had to agree with that assessment as well. It seemed wrong somehow to be questioning her for holding the same opinions he himself held, but her role as Jolie’s most trusted friend entitled her to more knowledge of the situation than any other person, which gave her more of motive to hate him than the rest of them.
Nose burning from the scent of hair color and perm solution, Jake waited for her last client to leave before posing the question he’d been waiting to ask. “What’s she hiding, Sadie?”
Sadie, who’d been dropping coins into the cash register, stilled the let go a little breath. “W-what do you mean?”
Pathetic stall tactic, but he’d caught her off guard and the reaction just confirmed what he knew--Jolie might not have killed Chris, but she’d definitely been doing something they didn’t want him to find out about. Given the nature of his most recent discoveries, it was probably something incriminating.
He mentally swore.
“I know about the pre-burial plan and the life insurance she took out last week,” Jake told her, a fact Jolie had probably already shared with her, but he felt compelled to impart as well. “But there’s more.” He braced a hand against the desk. “I know she’s innocent, Sadie, and I want to help her, but I don’t want anything coming up and biting me on the ass on this. I need to know everything.”
She refused to look up, let go a shuddering breath. “I wish I could help you, Jake, but I can’t. You know she didn’t do it. That’s all you need to know, right?”
Jake bit back a curse and shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. I’ve got Dean looking over my shoulder and the D.A. isn’t going to be too far behind. Come on, Sadie,” he cajoled. “I know she’s your friend, but are you sure you’re being the best one you can be to her? I don’t think she appreciates the gravi
ty of the situation.”
Sadie shut the drawer and looked up. Worry lined her forehead, but determination firmed her pert jaw. “I kept her mom in the loop, Jake. That was a risk, but I could justify it. I-- I can’t do anymore. I’m sorry. As for the gravity of the situation--” She shrugged helplessly. “--you know how she is. Once she makes her mind up, that’s it. There’s no changing it.”
No more than he expected, he supposed. Still, it had been worth a shot. “So she came to your house last night?”
“She did.” Her brow folded into a thoughtful frown. “She got there around eight--me and the girls were cooking--and left about ten-thirty.”
“Were you home all night?”
Sadie’s lips quirked with a hint of droll humor and she crossed her arms over her chest, leaned a hip against the desk. “I wondered how long it would take you to get around to it.”
Jake shrugged, felt a sheepish grin tug at his mouth. “I gotta ask, Sadie.”
“I talked with Jolie last night right before she left to go to Meredith’s--she mentioned that Chris was in the shower, by the way--then I left and went to Mom’s for dinner. Rob was pulling a double, so the girls and I were on our own. We were there for about an hour...home by seven.” She smiled and her eyes twinkled. “Does that cover everything? Does my alibi pass muster, Detective?”
“I’m sure it will once I’ve checked it out.”
She shot him a look, snorted indelicately. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Jake. I might have been tempted to cut his dick off, but I’d have never had the nerve to shoot him.”
Jake winced, rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “She told you about that, eh?”
Sadie nodded, wore a vengeful smile and pulled a shrug. “She did. Only fitting, if you ask me. He’d never been anything but a dick, anyway.”
Pretty much the consensus, Jake thought, unsurprised by the amusing observation. “What about you? Have you got any theories about who could have done it?”
Sadie paused to consider the question and her gaze turned speculative. “I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “He had a lot of enemies, but when you factor in the whole killer-cutting-his-dick-off part, I’m thinking that you’re most likely looking for a woman.” She cocked her head, slid him a droll glance. “Can’t see a man having the stomach for it no matter how much he might have hated him.”
The Future Widows' Club Page 13
