A Dead Husband (Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery)

by Anna Burke

  “Thanks, Jessica,” Laura said after reviewing the list of things Jessica was going to pick up for her at the house. “Could you add my black dress to the list? It’s hanging in my closet, toward the back, still in the plastic, dry cleaner bag. And my black leather pumps, Jessica. I’m going to need those shoes for Roger’s funeral. That’s assuming I get around to making the arrangements to bury my dead husband.”

  Jessica wanted to ask her again about Eric, but she seemed worn out so quickly, Jessica didn’t have the heart to pursue it. Later, when she dropped off her things, she would ask if Laura had come up with a last name. They agreed Jessica would drop by late afternoon, before dinner when things got crazy at her sister Sara’s house.

  Next Jessica decided to call Tommy’s uncle, Don Fontana. Even though Sergeant Fontana worked for the Palm Spring police department he was her best bet to get the inside scoop on the investigation. At the very least, he could tell her how to go about getting information at this point. She scanned the list of contacts on her smartphone to see if she still had his number. On a Sunday morning, she was more likely to catch him at home than at the station.

  Feeling a little guilty, she realized it had been some time since she had called him or his wife, “Aunt Evelyn.” She had an old number for them both. Low and behold, when she pressed the number, it rang.

  “Hello,” a woman answered the phone.

  “Evelyn? Aunt Evelyn, is that you? This is Jessica, Jessica Huntington-Harper. You know, Jessica Huntington?” She was babbling. This last name thing was starting to grate.

  “Jessica, it’s so good to hear from you. How are you?”

  “I’m okay, I guess.”

  “That’s good. How are your parents?”

  “They’re both doing well. Mom’s in Monaco with her new husband, on an extended honeymoon. I get postcards with updates about their travels. I saw dad in LA a couple weeks ago. He’s been spending a lot of time in Singapore and Hong Kong, working on some sort of development project in China. He seems pretty excited about it. He was sort of floundering around for a while with real estate in such a hopeless state here. To tell you the truth he was more upbeat than he’s been in a couple years so that’s good.”

  “Well I’m glad they’re okay. I don’t think we’ve seen either of them in several years. It’s been at least a couple years since we saw you last, am I right?”

  “Yes, you’re right Aunt Evelyn. I think the last time I visited was that barbeque for Frank’s promotion to detective.” Evelyn and Don’s son had followed in his father’s footsteps, becoming a police officer in Riverside County which encompassed the desert cities. He actually worked for the county Sherriff’s Department in the city of Riverside, an hour or so away.

  She was afraid to ask how he was doing. The entire county was so hard hit by the housing debacle that lots of cities and towns were still trying to balance their budgets. Her best friend Kelly’s cousin, Frank had been a couple years ahead of them both in school. He and Laura’s sister Sara were in the same cohort. Frank knew exactly what he wanted to do and went straight from high school to UC Riverside, got a degree in sociology with a focus on criminology and then went into the police officer training academy. His parents were so proud when he was promoted to detective a few years ago. That was not an easy thing to do under any circumstances, but even more impressive in the wake of the Great Recession.

  “Yes, that’s right. We were so relieved when he got that promotion. He worked so hard and wanted it so much. He put everything into that job. Unfortunately it took a toll on his marriage. He and Mary broke up a while back. Not that it’s the main reason they split. Anyway, that’s been hard on us. We’ve always liked her and then there are the kids. It’s been even harder on them. We try to reassure Evie and Frankie that they’re going to be okay. Frank and Mary have been good about not taking out their differences on them.”

  “I guess that’s some consolation. I’ve told you this before, but you and Uncle Don were so important to me when my parents divorced. Frank and Mary are lucky their children have you in their lives.”

  “Thanks, Jessica. I appreciate hearing that. Do you have time to say hello to Don?”

  “Actually, that would be great. I need to speak to him if he’s available. Do you remember Laura and Sara Powers?”

  “Of course I do. I ran into Sara and her kids when I took Evie and Frankie to the COD street fair a couple weeks ago. Every so often I see Laura at a grocery store or somewhere around town.”

  “Well, this will be on the news and in the papers shortly, if it hasn’t been reported already. Laura’s husband Roger Stone was killed, Aunt Evelyn. Laura wasn’t there so she doesn’t know exactly when. I was hoping Uncle Don could give me some advice about how best to help her under the circumstances. She’s worried that the police see her as a suspect, and I’m a little concerned about her safety.”

  “Oh my goodness, Jessica, that’s so horrible! Her husband murdered. They couldn’t think such a thing about Laura. She’d never hurt anyone. You shouldn’t have let me go on so long with such a pressing matter on your mind. Don, Don, your wanted on the phone. It’s Jessica, you know Hank Huntington’s girl? She needs to speak to you. It’s important.”

  “Okay, okay. I’m here. Jessica, what’s up?” Don asked as he took the phone from Evelyn without even letting her say goodbye.

  “Uncle Don, I’m so glad I reached you. It’s about Laura Stone. She was Laura Powers when we were all in high school and used to visit all the time. Her husband, Roger, was killed Friday night or Saturday morning. He was shot in their home in Cathedral City. She called me as a friend, but she also thinks she might need a lawyer. I’m trying to figure out if she’s right. Do you have any idea who would be handling the investigation? I was hoping you would know who I need to talk to about what’s going on.”

  “That’s terrible, Jessica. Let me think for a sec. A lot of folks have been given their walking papers all over the valley. That shouldn’t matter too much, in this case. George Hernandez is the lead detective on homicides. He’s been around for a while so I doubt his head’s on the chopping block. Homicides don’t happen often in Cathedral City, maybe 2 or 3 a year. When they do, they’re a high priority, so I’m sure the investigation is well under way. Do you know who the responding officers were?”

  “Uncle Don, I don’t know anything for sure yet, other than what Laura told me. She wasn’t in the best frame of mind by the time the officers got there. She did say there were two of them, a man and a woman, both in uniform. The female officer turned up later at the hospital. Laura passed out and hit her head at some point. The EMTs she’d called to help Roger ended up taking her in the ambulance instead. By the time they finished with Laura at the ER, the coroner was at her house. The officer at the hospital told her they were going to take Roger to the morgue at the County Coroner’s facility in Indio. That was yesterday a little before noon when Laura called me.”

  “The detectives would have been at the house then, too. They may have asked the County Coroner to send their forensic team to collect evidence at the scene in addition to taking possession of the body. Listen, Jessica, let me touch base with George before you contact him. I’ll get back to you after I speak to him. If I can get a bead on the direction in which the investigation is headed I’ll let you know that too. You should plan to touch base with him yourself tomorrow. He’s a stand-up guy; doesn’t get out ahead of the facts. So, he’s going to be cautious this early in the process and not jump to any conclusions about Laura that he’ll regret later. If I can get to him this afternoon, I will. You do have to give these guys time to do their jobs, though Jessica. I know I don’t have to tell you to stay out of their way. Their job is hard enough without an untrained person poking around, no matter how well-intentioned.”

  You could always count on Uncle Don to call it the way he saw it. Jessica only hoped she’d have enough sense to know when she was getting in the way beforehand. She knew all too well where good in
tentions could lead. The road to her divorce was paved with them.

  “I’ll take it easy, Uncle Don. I appreciate your help on this. Laura will be grateful too.”

  “Glad to do what I can. Bye, Jessica.”

  “Bye, Uncle Don.”

  As soon as she hung up the phone she began to worry about her plan to visit the house. Would digging through Roger’s stuff put her in the way? She didn’t think so. As an attorney she was no rookie at plowing through and organizing documents, including financial information, contracts, and that sort of thing. Laura had to figure out where she stood financially and the sooner the better. There was no getting around the need to take care of loose ends related to Roger’s business and Laura hadn’t looked at his books in months.

  Jessica would do her best not to trash the place when she went through Roger’s home office and gathered all the records. But that had to be done. And Laura couldn’t get by without some of her things from the house either. Jessica added the name of the detective and a few other bits of information to her notes from the conversation with Uncle Don.

  The next thing she needed to do was call Tommy and get him to bring her car back. There wasn’t much room to haul anything in her mother’s Porsche. Tommy wasn’t a morning person but she didn’t think 11:00 was too early to call. She wanted to be on her way as soon as she got cleaned up and had some lunch.

  The uneasiness she carried with her these days began to creep back into her psyche, eating at her resolve to get moving. Maybe she should just stay out of it, sit and wait to see what the police came up with. Maybe this, maybe that, nothing but maybes. Closing her eyes, Jessica used the breathing techniques her shrink had given her to stave off spells of anxiety. Jessica was still deep in thought when she heard Bernadette’s voice at the patio door behind her.

  “Somebody’s here to see you Jessica.” As Bernadette spoke a shadow fell over Jessica. She looked up and into the smiling face of the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Jessica I’m Jerry Reynolds. Paul sent me.” As he spoke he held out his hand for her to shake it. She took his hand and resisted the urge to kiss it, like he was a pope or a king or something. Jerry Reynolds had to be six-four or thereabout, with broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw and blindingly white teeth. He was dressed informally in jeans and a deep red t-shirt topped with a loose fitting, light-weight long-sleeved shirt in a dusky green. His features were symmetrical, with a perfectly proportioned nose right out a Da Vinci sketch pad, and full sensuous lips.

  His dark hair was cut in a style reminiscent of old Hollywood. The sort of cut that George Clooney and John Hamm, in the Don Draper character on Mad Men, made popular again. Most startling, though, were piercing green eyes with little crinkly laugh lines at the edges. Those lines made you believe the smile was the real deal and a common occurrence on his lovely countenance. Jessica had a kind of loopy grin on her face, and hoped she wasn’t drooling. She was transfixed. It was like she had been transported into one of those old Rock Hudson and Doris Day movies her mother loved to watch. Coming to her senses she gave his hand a little shake and let it go.

  “Please, have a seat. Paul sent you? What do you mean?” Jessica asked with her brain still in slow mo. She still wasn’t sure who this guy was but didn’t much care.

  “I’m sorry, if I wasn’t clear. Paul Worthington said he told you he’d get in touch with me and that I might be able to give you a hand with a murder investigation involving a friend of yours. Did I get that right?” He sank gracefully into the lounge chair next to her. As he sat down he removed the long-sleeved shirt, revealing well-developed biceps bound by the edges of the t-shirt. Stretching out his long legs, he propped up his cross trainers on the ottoman. His head was sort of cocked to one side, bemused puppy dog style, a quizzical look on his face. Somehow that little bit of bewilderment only made him more beautiful. Fortunately, the chemistry in her brain settled down enough for her to really make sense of what he was trying to tell her.

  “Oh, you’re a private investigator. Paul said he was going to contact you and that you’d get in touch with me. I had no idea he meant so soon, or in person. How’d you do that?” Now she must have had that confused puppy dog look on her face because he chuckled.

  “How’d I do what?”

  “Find me, figure out where I live, get past the guard gates without calling me?”

  “Finding out things about people is what I do, Jessica. I had a name and phone number and Paul knew you were in Mission Hills. You lived at this address previously. It really wasn’t much of a mystery. The guard gate contacted Bernadette. She told them to let me in.”

  “Oh, okay. That makes sense. I think I’ve been sitting out in this heat too long. Will you come inside where it’s cool and have some lunch with me? I’ll fill you in on what I know, which still isn’t much. Then I’ll tell you what I was planning to do and we can take it from there. You can tell me if I’m on the right track or give me suggestions about how to get on track. I’m sure Paul must have told you this is the first time I’ve ever been anywhere near a murder case.”

  “Lunch sounds terrific. That’s a great way to get me up to speed so I can help.”

  As Jessica stood up she almost tripped over Bernadette. Clearly she had been hovering nearby and had taken in their conversation.

  “I thought you two might need some lunch to do your business so I started a little something for you. You come inside and get comfortable. Can I get you something to drink, Jerry?” She beamed up at him.

  “I could use some water if it’s not too much trouble, ma’am.”

  “Oh it’s no trouble at all. But are you sure you don’t want something more strong than water?” she asked, her head bent way back, looking up into his face, with a beatific smile.

  “No thanks, Bernadette. I don’t drink when I’m on the clock.”

  On a first name basis already, and ma’am. Where did that come from? A couple more minutes and someone was going to break into a chorus of “Que sera, sera.” She watched as Jerry followed Bernadette into the house. He was a fine looking man from that angle too. The jeans he was wearing could not have been a better fit.

  When she got into the house, loaded down with a dirty coffee cup, empty water glass, banana peel, and computer, Jessica’s robe slid off her shoulder. Bernadette came rushing over to take some of the junk and pulled the robe back up. She leaned over and whispered conspiratorially.

  “Jessica, I’ve got this under control. You go get cleaned up while I finish getting lunch ready. You can’t do business in a bath robe.” She was right about that and the bathing suit was starting to chafe. Jerry was seated in the morning room with a glass of water, a lemon slice floating in it. In his hands was one of Bernadette’s celebrity news rags, a stack of others on the table next to him.

  “Jerry you okay if I take a quick shower and change into some work clothes?”

  “No problem, Jessica. I’ve got a couple calls to make. Paul said this was urgent, so I’m shifting things around. That way I’ll have the rest of the day free.”

  “See? What’d I tell you? I got things handled, Jessica.” Whispering, she added, “I got a good feeling about this guy.” Bernadette gave her a little wink then bustled off into the kitchen where she was in the middle of preparing a feast.

  Jessica showered as quickly as she could and took only a couple more minutes to blow dry her hair. She even took time to put on some mascara and lip gloss, as well as the tinted moisturizer. Finally, she had no choice but to enter the room of shame. She pulled several articles of clothing from a roller bag but immediately tossed them back after seeing how wrinkled they were. Who knew tanks and tees could look so bad after being crammed into a confined space for a couple weeks? She thought about the deep red t-shirt clinging to the handsome PI’s chest. There was not a wrinkle to be seen, and it was more than just a perfect fit. The man cared about his appearance.

  Jessica sighed and was about to conce
de that her best bet was to wear the smallest of the tops, hoping once she put it on a lot of the wrinkles would be stretched out. Then she spied another of the half buried shopping bags in her closet, this one from Saks. Grabbing for it, she hauled out a neatly folded Eileen Fisher pullover tee in a shade of blue that she bought to complement her blond highlights. At $80 bucks on sale, it had been a steal. Also in the bag was a pair of white cropped linen pants. She checked to made sure the saleswoman had clipped off all the tags then, slipped them on. Perfect, and with a pair of woven leather T-strap sandals purchased to complete the outfit, she was good to go.

  She was making the most out of her shopping binges but this couldn’t go on, living out of bags, shopping or otherwise. Like it or not, she was going to be here in Mission Hills for a while so it was time to unpack and settle in. Jessica made a promise to herself to put in an hour or so this evening when she got back after her visit with Laura. That should still give her plenty of time to start dealing with whatever she retrieved from Roger’s office. She looked at her watch. Less than twenty minutes to clean herself up. That had to be some kind of a record.

  Back in the kitchen, Bernadette had set out the food: a platter of meats and cheeses; slices of artisan bread left from the night before; little plates of olives and pickles and peppers, lettuce leaves and tomato slices, as well as tiny bowls of condiments. There was a small bowl of redskin potato salad that looked homemade. A larger bowl of fresh fruit salad sat next to a plate of ginger snaps.

  Bernadette hurried over to the table with two pitchers, one filled with ice water and the other with iced tea. It was a simple enough meal but something Bernadette had pulled together in half an hour or so would have taken Jessica so much longer.

  Jerry opened the sliders and stepped back in from the patio where he had been on the phone. Bernadette had switched on the misters, lowering the ambient temperature to something tolerable, even now as it was nearing midday. Jerry and Jessica sat down. “This looks wonderful, Bernadette,” Jerry said as he began fixing himself a sandwich.