by Loyd, Sandy
“Why did you come back?” Claire asked, not wanting to think about someone trying to kill her.
“It doesn’t matter why. The point is, I did. The fire wasn’t accidental, and I’m not about to let something else happen.”
Jason’s rationalization mirrored her thoughts, making the decision for her. She felt safe with him, so she’d stay with him.
Chapter 51
Sunday afternoon, Claire pulled up bits of linoleum from Jason’s kitchen floor. Both his girls were busy at the task, as were Crystal and Jimbo.
How had Jason gotten everyone’s full cooperation?
She had to laugh at the answer. The man was obviously a clever manipulator. Crystal was here for her, and Jimbo was here for Crystal. The girls most likely were trying to impress Claire.
Yep, very clever.
She ripped at a large piece and tossed it in the trash. Staying at Jason’s had its ups and downs. While he made tearing up his kitchen floor a party—a significant up—the exertion negated the effect. Hard work was definitely a down. Still, working kept her busy, another up. It also gave her time to think about her situation, another down.
And that was exactly how she felt right then. Up one minute and down the next. Ready to cry one moment, and laughing at something Chloe or Amelia did the next.
Would her life ever settle into a flat line? Moisture filled her eyes, and she hurriedly wiped it away. That was exactly what her life had been before she met Jason. One flat line.
“Lunch is served,” Jason said, entering the room with a big brown bag.
“Easy for you to act so cheerful,” Jimbo said as he rose to his feet. He grabbed the bag and headed for the cupboards, placing their lunch on the counter before pulling out plates. “You haven’t been slaving for the past hour.”
“I bought lunch.”
“And it better be good.” Jimbo divvied up the deli sandwiches and chips. “At least this stuff is a level above that—” He hesitated and looked at the girls. “That fast food you always eat.” Then he grinned at Jason, who was giving him a dirty look.
Smiling behind a stretch, Claire was used to the two men’s banter. “I’m ready for food.” She got up and reached for a sandwich. “I’m starving.”
They were always at it, one-upping each other. In fact, Claire was becoming quite used to everything in this household after only twenty-four hours here.
Crystal came up behind her, making Claire realize how lucky she was to have both of them. Crystal made up for everything Jason lacked, making sure Claire had the basic necessities that had burned in the fire.
She grabbed a drink and moved to sit at the kitchen table, another ugly but functional piece of furniture. Chloe sat on her right and Amelia on her left.
Claire bit into her sandwich and looked around at their efforts while chewing. More than half done, the wood underneath already gave a good indication of what the room would look like, even with the hideous appliances. Somehow the wood took away a bit of the harshness in their unsightly colors.
“I can’t believe someone covered up that hardwood,” she said once everyone was seated. “Will it take much to refinish?”
“It’s a job. Made easier with the right tools,” Jason said. “I won’t start on it till the new appliances are in and I install the new countertops.”
“I hope you picked a decent color,” Crystal said with much derision in her voice.
“I’m going with black granite. It works with the stainless appliances.” He turned to Claire. “That is, if you approve?”
“Black’s a great color,” she said evasively, unsure why he was asking her.
Although she’d only been here a day, the man had been a perfect gentleman, never wavering on his promise. Still, there was something in the way he asked the question that made her slightly uncomfortable. As if her opinion mattered.
“And when does all this take place?” Claire’s attention refocused on her sister as she added, “Anything’s an improvement on your antiques.”
Jason’s face lit with a smile. “At the end of the week. If you’re interested, I’ll sell them to you.”
Crystal scrunched up her nose. “You couldn’t give them away.”
“Now, there’s where you’re wrong. Goodwill is picking them up. They’ll go to a good home. Someone who can appreciate their uniqueness.”
“You mean someone who’s desperate.”
• • •
“You want a beer?” Jason asked Jimbo as he grabbed a bottle of wine off the counter and poured.
Claire and Crystal were upstairs watching a video with the girls. They’d worked for their reprieve, he thought as he surveyed their results. A grin took over his face. Definitely a good day. The floor would be ready to refinish in no time. And the task kept Claire’s mind off her troubles.
“Yeah. I’ve earned it.” Jimbo pulled one from the fridge, popped the tab, and took a long drink. “I should change professions. I’d make more money if I charged you for manual labor.”
“You do all right. Besides, today gave you a chance to be with Crystal.”
“For all the good it’s done me.”
“I thought you two were an item again.” Jason leaned against the counter. He covered his amusement in the act of sipping red wine.
“A night of lovemaking doesn’t erase difficulties.” Jimbo sighed and brought the can up to his lips. He guzzled, and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and snorted. “She’s not responding. And God knows I’ve tried.”
“You need to work on your Texas charm.”
“Humph,” was all he said. “I heard from the fire inspector. Claire’s fire was definitely no accident.”
“Oh?” Jason’s smile died and his back straightened. His full attention moved to Jimbo’s face.
“Yeah.” He took another chug of beer before adding, “An incendiary device triggered by a transmitter set off an accelerant to maximize the fire spreading. Whoever did it was close by. Within a mile. Also, the smoke detector was disabled. No batteries.”
Jason’s gaze shifted to his wineglass as he absorbed this information.
“Talked to Snyder too. He’s been busy with his idea that your ex is involved. Seems there’s quite a bit of circumstantial evidence pointing to her.”
“When he comes up with something more substantial, I’ll believe it. Too much about this case seems to be what someone else wants us to think.”
Elise had no motivation to kill Claire, so Jason couldn’t accept her as a suspect. Plus, Crystal had never been fully exonerated. Had she left Key Largo early to set off the device? Interesting how she was right behind Jason when he arrived at Claire’s house.
“Elise isn’t involved in Claire’s house fire. It’s someone close.” Instead of voicing his suspicions about Crystal, he said, “But check it out. And while I’m thinking about it, have you checked out the alibis of those closest to Claire?”
“Snyder’s thorough, I’ll give him that. So far, they all check out. Just have to talk to Gwen Anderson’s jerky guy and one other of Denton’s dinner partners, a Bill Perry. I’ll do that tomorrow.”
Jason nodded and brought the glass to his lips. While Jimbo was checking into those alibis, he’d check out Crystal’s.
Chapter 52
After a long lunch with Jason on Monday, Jimbo strode into his office and picked up the phone.
“Yeah?” a voice answered on the third ring.
“John Myers?”
“Last time I checked.”
“Mr. Myers, this is Jim O’Malley,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m investigating a murder. I’d like to talk to you about it.”
“You’re talking to me now, aren’t you?”
“Not over the phone. You got a few minutes to spare this afternoon?”
“Is this about Gwen Anderson?”
“Yes.”
“I told the deputy everything I know.”
“I have a few more questions.”
“There
’s not much to add. Look, I’m rather busy. Check with the deputy. I spent the evening with Gwen and left her place around eleven. That’s all I have to say.”
The final click hit his ears and Jimbo sighed. “Okay,” he muttered. “Guess I’ll go with that.”
He spent an hour flipping through the information Jason had copied. Then he made note of the restaurant Amy Denton and her friends had frequented that night, as well as where Gwen Anderson had spent the evening. After looking online for addresses, he grabbed his car keys and headed out.
Twenty minutes later, he strode inside a trendy restaurant along the Intracoastal Waterway. The waiter he wanted to talk to was on break, so Jimbo sat at a table in his section and waited. When the kid eventually came out, Jimbo showed him the picture of Amy Denton, asking about the night and what he remembered.
The kid was a wealth of information. He remembered the group and recalled that the one in the picture left early because she wasn’t feeling well after she got a phone call.
“But she paid for the meal?” That was what Snyder’s file read.
The kid shrugged. “It was a valid card that worked. I never checked IDs.”
“Did you tell this to the deputy?”
“He never asked. Just asked if they were here, and I said yes.”
Guess that was good enough for Snyder. So much for being thorough. Jimbo thanked him, tipped him a twenty, and moved on to his next destination, Checkers Bar and Grille. Once inside the dark, cool room, he strode up to the bar.
“What’ll you have?” a clean-cut bartender asked. He wore a striped shirt that sported several buttons with all kinds of crazy sayings.
“Beer. Whatever’s on draft is fine.”
The bartender nodded, quickly grabbed a glass, and flipped the lever. The glass filled with beer and foam.
“Thanks,” Jimbo said when the bartender placed a full beer in front of him. He took a swig, which tasted good going down. He nursed his drink, watching the guy wipe down the bar and wait on another customer at the other end. Business was slow right now, between lunch and happy hour.
“You want another?” The bartender stopped in front of him and began washing a few glasses.
“No, I’m fine.” Jimbo kept his gaze on him while he worked. “Not a busy time of day, is it?”
“Never is, unless it’s the weekend.”
“You work here long?”
“About a year. Working my way through grad school.”
They chatted about random things for a few minutes.
“Maybe you can help me?” Jimbo said after the conversation died.
When the bartender glanced at him with a question in his eyes, Jimbo flashed a lazy smile. “I’m on a fact-finding mission, looking for information.” He pulled out two pictures, one of Gwen Anderson and one of John Myers. “Ever see these two in here?”
The guy wiped his hands on a towel before taking the pictures and scanning them thoroughly.
“He looks familiar.” He broke off and his gaze went back to the photos for a moment. “Yeah. He’s a regular. But I don’t remember seeing her. Sorry.”
“Regular meaning he comes in a lot?” Jimbo took the pictures from him.
He nodded. “Decent tipper. He’s usually here before happy hour ends and usually alone. Since my shift’s over at seven, I don’t know how late he stays.”
“You remember seeing him three weeks ago? Wednesday, June twenty-third, to be exact.”
“I was out that week. Vacation with my parents.” He shrugged as if to say, I know it’s not cool. Then he grinned. “They spring for some great trips, so it’s worth tagging along.”
“Is there someone I can talk to? Someone who was here that night?”
“You might check with Richards. He usually works Wednesday nights.”
“Richards. He got a first name?”
“Doug.”
“Know when this Doug Richards will be working again?”
“I can check the schedule.” He went to the back room and came out a moment later. “His next shift is Wednesday at four.”
“Thanks.” Jimbo pulled out a twenty and dropped it on the bar before he walked out.
• • •
Half an hour later, Jimbo pulled up to the guardhouse at Elise’s gated development.
“Jim O’Malley to see Elise Roberts,” he said to the guard. “We have an appointment.”
“Go ahead. You’re on the list.” The traffic control arm lifted and the guard waved him through.
Once he got to Elise’s front door, Jimbo rang the bell. After no response, he knocked and waited. When she still hadn’t answered minutes later, he glanced at his watch.
“She said three o’clock and it’s five after. Where the hell is she?”
He pressed the bell numerous times and pounded again. Frustrated, he walked over to the window and peered inside. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he did a three sixty, checking things out as he went. He headed for the backyard, intending to get a better look inside from the rear.
At the open gate, he stopped short as a spot of color pulled his gaze. He sucked in air.
“Shit!”
While running toward the deck, he pulled out his cell phone and punched in 911. The sight of Elise’s inert form, lying facedown in the middle of the pool, chilled him to the bone.
He barked sharp orders into the phone, giving the dispatcher on the other end brief instructions before tossing aside his phone and diving in.
Once he had Elise on the patio, he bent over and pinched her nose, doing CPR. Her warm body told him it wasn’t entirely a useless effort, so he continued working on Elise until he heard sirens.
Within minutes, a Palm Beach County sheriff’s deputy came barreling through the gate.
“O’Malley? Is she responding?” the officer asked as he knelt beside him.
“Barely. I finally got a pulse after three minutes,” he replied, recognizing Charlie Dolan as he took over. “Water’s come out of her mouth, but she’s not breathing on her own yet.”
“Here, I’ll take over. What can you tell me about her?”
“Thanks.” Jimbo stood, and the deputy started CPR. “Like I told the dispatcher, she was floating facedown when I got here. Name’s Elise Roberts. We had an appointment.”
The officer continued CPR until the gate opened, and two medics with a gurney charged past Jimbo moments later.
“She’s got a pulse and breathing on her own, but it’s labored.” Dolan stepped back and let the medics work.
In minutes, Elise’s unconscious body was on the stretcher with the medics pushing it toward an ambulance.
Still dripping water from his dive, Jimbo watched Dolan speak in a low tone into his phone as he paced.
When he was done, Dolan stuffed the phone in his pocket and looked around, gradually pivoting. “Wait out here.” The deputy grabbed his flashlight and started for the house.
“Find anything?” Jimbo asked once Dolan returned and handed him a towel.
“What else can you tell me about her?” Ignoring his question, the officer indicated the direction the medics had disappeared and pulled out a notebook with pen from his pocket. “You said you had an appointment?”
“Yeah. We made arrangements to meet this morning. She was helping me on a case I’m working. Had a cell phone that may or may not be tied to a murder investigation.”
“This the cell phone?” Dolan said, holding one up with a gloved hand.
Jimbo shook his head. “Don’t know without looking at it.”
“Too late. Now it’s part of this investigation.” The officer stuck the phone into a plastic bag and handed him a pair of gloves. “Put these on, and I’ll let you look at her dartboard before everyone gets here.”
“Dartboard?”
“Yeah. You gotta see this.”
Jimbo dried off as best he could, and followed Dolan inside after putting on the latex gloves.
“Looks like she was drinking. Also, there’s a bo
ttle of pills.”
Jimbo picked up the bottle and read the label. “Tranquilizers. Maybe she mixed the two and had an accident.”
“Maybe. Nothing’s been disturbed.”
He nodded, looking around the room until his gaze caught what Dolan had been talking about. Pictures of Claire, her head in the center of a target drawn in Magic Marker, stared back at him. Dozens of photos in various poses taken on various days were tacked to the board, and all with holes made from darts that were sitting on the counter.
“Holy shit!” He moved to take one and inspect it. Yep. Definitely photos of Claire, not Crystal. He could tell them apart. “Looks as if she’s carrying a bit of a grudge.”
“Appears that way.”
Jimbo sighed and shook his head. “Maybe Snyder’s on to something.”
“Snyder?”
“Deputy down in Key Largo. He’s trying to find a murderer who stabbed and dumped a body a couple of weeks ago.”
“I heard about that. I recognize this face. Wasn’t she a suspect for a while?”
Jimbo nodded. “She was cleared. Then her house caught fire. Not accidentally.” He indicated the wall of targets. “Could be Elise Roberts had something to do with it. Definitely some hatred showing here.”
He threw the picture on the counter. “I’ve got a few things to check up on. Do you need me any longer?”
Dolan stood up. “I need a statement. It shouldn’t take long. Let’s go outside. Forensics should be here soon.”
Chapter 53
“What do you think?” Jason asked Jimbo as they sat down to lunch on Wednesday, two days after Elise’s near drowning.
His ex was in a coma at a nearby hospital in intensive care. He prayed she’d recover, prayed even harder she wasn’t responsible for killing Carl or burning Claire’s house. But the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him he needed more than prayer.
“Let’s look at it objectively.” Jimbo placed his elbows on the table. “Cut through all the layers.”
“That’s the freaking problem. Nothing about this case has been clear from the very beginning. What would motivate Elise?”
