by Debra Webb
“That’s where my offer comes in.” Lori glanced over her shoulder at the door again. “Why not put someone on the two most likely suspects? Dig for dirt. For previous acts of violence. That kind of thing.”
“Black is watching Chandler’s husband, but I have no idea if he’s looking at anyone else. To him, if this was a homicide, the husband is the most likely candidate.”
“That’s typically the case, but…”
“The shoes,” Jess finished for her. “That part is so wrong. And the feathers.”
“And yet there’s no evidence to prove any of it is wrong.”
“Evidence and shoes aside,” Jess said, growing annoyed just thinking about how Black refused to listen to anything she had to say on the matter, “the only way to find the truth as to whether it was a homicide or a suicide or just a freak accident is to find the motive for Chandler’s death. Money? The dance studio? Another woman? A wardrobe malfunction? What drove her or her killer to act? What did either hope to gain?”
“Let me check out Katrina and her mother. All the dance moms for that matter. Some of the statements suggested that he was having an affair with a dance mom. It’s time to find out which one and how serious the relationship was. Off the record, of course. If Chief Black isn’t in the sharing mode, I can probably pick up a little info here and there from colleagues I’ve worked cases with.”
Lori wanted this bad. The anticipation in her eyes and voice was palpable. Jess understood the need to feel as if she were accomplishing something. Allowing her anywhere near the Simmons case was out of the question. The players and the circumstances were too unpredictable. “If Black or Burnett finds out, they’re not going to take it well.”
“They won’t find out. I’m on my own time. No one will know.”
“Know what?” Harper asked as he entered with three steaming cups of coffee from the department lounge.
She and Lori exchanged a look of hesitation. They were a team. Jess wanted the communication lines kept open at all times.
“Lori’s going to do some off-the-record research into the dancers and their moms, particularly Katrina and Dresher. If it’s true that the Russian was having an affair, maybe that’s why Darcy Chandler’s dead.”
Harper passed around the coffee. “Black has someone on that.”
“Following up on the rumored affair?” Jess wanted to be surprised but she wasn’t. Not really. Any cop worth his salt would look into the possibility even without the obvious presence of foul play.
“Mayakovsky swears he wasn’t having an affair,” Harper explained. “He says he hasn’t had one in almost two years.”
“Give the guy a star,” Jess grumbled. “How do you hear all this and I don’t hear jack?”
Harper rolled over a chair and parked it next to Lori’s. “You don’t really want to know the answer to that, ma’am.”
“How long, Sergeant, will I continue to be considered an outsider?”
A smile toyed with the corners of his mouth. “I’d say not more than a couple years. How long do you think, Wells?”
Lori laughed, shared a secret look with Harper. “Depends on if she keeps pissing people off.”
Jess threw up her hands. “Forget I asked. So,” she said to Lori, “you’ll see what you can come up with on the dance moms and their talented offspring.” She turned to Harper. “You and I will keep beating the bushes in hopes of scrounging up a lead on Simmons.”
“Works for me.” Harper stood, but before getting back on task, he turned to Lori. “You should pick out which desk you want, Wells. I’ve already staked my claim.”
While the two debated who got the preferred placement of backs to the wall, Jess’s cell rang. She stood, reached across her desk to nab it. The local number was one she didn’t recognize.
She answered with her usual greeting. “Jess Harris.”
“Good morning, Jess, this is Katherine Burnett.”
Jess sank back into her chair. “Hello… Katherine. What can I do for you this morning?” Why would Dan’s mother call her? Did Katherine intend to warn her to stay away from Dan? Annette was suddenly calling him about Andrea all the time. Maybe Katherine wanted Annette back as a daughter-in-law. Of course she’d have to get rid of the current husband first.
Whatever Katherine wanted, Jess would be only too happy to let the queen know that Dan came to her after hours of his own free will. She hadn’t dragged him into her life or her bed. Calm down. You have no idea why this woman is calling.
“Since Dan senior and I were away when you returned to Birmingham, I missed the opportunity to give you a proper welcome.”
Jess struggled to ungrit her teeth. Katherine had that Old South accent. Jess was convinced the woman had watched Gone with the Wind as a young girl and had latched onto Scarlett’s persona.
“We’ve both been quite busy,” Jess responded, breaking the awkward lapse of silence. “At this very moment I’m in a briefing with the members of my new unit. The one the chief of police and the Jefferson County sheriff designed specifically for me to head.”
Mortification had Jess slapping her hand over her mouth. Twenty-plus years. A master’s degree in psychology and numerous career achievements later and she still felt compelled to compete with Dan’s mother.
“I won’t keep you then. I thought we’d have lunch. Say twelve thirty at Chez Fonfon? It’s on Eleventh. See you there.”
The distinct tone announcing that the call had ended sounded before Jess could tell the woman hell no! Not that she would have actually said that but she would have made up an excuse. A good excuse like maybe she had a root canal scheduled at that time.
Jess tossed her cell aside and considered the ramifications of simply not showing up.
But that would be like admitting that Katherine was the winner. At what, Jess couldn’t name, but this competition dated back twenty-five years.
She stared down at her ivory pencil skirt and matching shell and high heels. Conservative yet sophisticated. The outfit was one of her favorites. Thank God she’d worn it today or she would have had to make a HoJo’s run before lunch.
She reached for her phone again so she could Google the place and check out the lunch menu. Knowing what to order before she sat across the table from Queen Katherine would make those first moments far less uncomfortable.
What was she saying?
Every second she spent in that woman’s presence would be intensely awkward and inordinately unpleasant.
Jess tossed her phone aside. It didn’t matter what they served at Chez Froufrou or Fonfon or whatever it was.
There was absolutely zero possibility she could eat seated across the table from Katherine Burnett.
• • •
Chez Fonfon, 12:38 p.m.
Before the hostess could utter her greeting, Jess spotted Katherine. It wasn’t difficult; the restaurant was very cozy. A little hint, little being the operative word, of Paris right here in Birmingham. Jess flashed the hostess a smile and pointed to the table where her own private hell waited.
Katherine had already ordered two glasses of white wine. She glanced up as Jess approached and displayed the kind of smile years of practice and tens of thousands of dollars of cosmetic dentistry had perfected.
“Jess, you’re right on schedule.”
Actually she was eight minutes late—not as a result of being unable to find the place but because she’d driven past it four times before parking.
“Katherine.” A smile pasted into place, Jess settled into the only other chair at the intimate table. “How are you? You look fabulous, as always.”
“Thank you, dear. As do you. Have you lost weight?”
A tick started in Jess’s cheek at the effort required to maintain that damned fake smile. “I beg your pardon?”
Katherine shook her head. “Oh, silly me. It was your sister, Lily, who was the chubby one. How is she, by the way?”
Lily had ballooned up to a whopping size ten in high school. Jess suppo
sed not every woman could maintain a size four like Katherine. Deep breath. “She’s doing great. Her son is in college and her daughter’s—”
“Drink your wine, dear,” Katherine ordered before downing the remainder of hers. She placed her glass on the table and immediately did one of those little waves to attract the waiter’s attention.
Jess was going to need considerably more than a glass of wine to get through this.
When Katherine’s glass had been refilled, she turned her attention back to Jess. “Have you found a house yet?”
“I really haven’t had time to look.” Jess sipped her wine. Wished it were bourbon. “I’ll get around to it eventually. For now, HoJo’s works just fine.”
The little flinch Katherine experienced at the mention of Jess’s low-rent motel proved immensely cathartic. It wasn’t that Katherine cared where Jess lived. To the contrary. The thing that bothered her was the idea that she was dining with someone who lived at a Howard Johnson. Worse, that her only son was cavorting with a resident of said motel.
“Commitment is sometimes difficult. I suppose as long as you don’t put down roots you can still return to Virginia or perhaps to California. Isn’t that where your husband lives?”
As far as Jess was concerned, the fun was over. She downed her wine and stared straight into the other woman’s eyes. “Ex-husband. My ex-husband lives in California. And I won’t be changing my mind. I’m here to stay.” She smiled, loving that her words were having such an ill effect on the woman. “I have Dan to thank for that. He’s just determined to keep me here.”
The look that passed between them was fierce. Jess recognized exactly where she stood with the woman—the same place she’d always stood, two steps behind. Katherine would never see Jess as anything other than not good enough for her son. Well, Jess had news for her, tough.
Katherine made a sound in her throat as if to clear away the shock that had lodged there. “I suppose you’re wondering why I asked you to lunch.”
Jess laughed a soft, dry sound. “Actually I thought you just wanted to talk about old times. No, wait. You said something about a proper welcome.” She lifted her glass as if to toast. “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing? I guess it’s true that we mellow with age.”
Fury glistened in those icy-blue eyes. They might be the same color as her son’s but there was no warmth there. “Perhaps we should order.”
Jess settled her glass on the table and made her decision. “I really don’t have time for lunch, Katherine. Why don’t you just say whatever it is you have to say and we’ll both get on with our lives?”
Katherine lowered her gaze and fussed with her place setting for a moment. What was up with this woman? Who was dying? Not Dan senior, Jess hoped.
“I suppose I owe you an apology,” Katherine said quietly when at last her gaze met Jess’s once more.
“For what? Making me feel like a lesser life-form or for calling my sister fat?” The woman had some nerve, and Jess was finished playing games with her.
“I called you here under false pretenses,” Katherine announced, totally ignoring Jess’s comments.
The urge to get up and walk away wasn’t nearly strong enough to override the train-wreck syndrome. Jess just couldn’t stop staring at the catastrophe and waiting to see what would happen next.
“Dorothy Chandler, Darcy’s grandmother, is a dear friend of mine,” Katherine explained. “She and my older sister were best friends my sister’s entire life. Dorothy was a tremendous support to me when my sister passed away.”
Jess wasn’t aware that Katherine’s sister had died. “I’m sorry for your loss. I had no idea.”
“This was years after you moved away,” she explained. “In any event, the Chandler family is one of Birmingham’s most giving families. Dorothy has literally given away a small fortune to help the underprivileged in this city.”
The Chandler family had a long history of giving back; that was true. Jess had done some research, despite not being on the case. Even Darcy and her husband had spent enormous amounts of time teaching dance to children with special needs and those who might never have had the opportunity otherwise.
As true as all that was, it didn’t explain why Katherine had asked for this meeting.
“Dorothy is convinced that Darcy’s death was not an accident.”
“Ready to order, ladies?”
Since her wineglass was still half full, Katherine waved off the waiter.
“Many times when tragedy strikes, the loss is more than we can bear and we create diversions to ease the pain,” Jess suggested.
“Darcy had perfect balance,” Katherine said. “There is no possibility that she lost her footing and fell. None whatsoever.”
“Who would want to kill Darcy? I understand there was a prenuptial agreement that provided considerable compensation to the husband, so he had little to gain unless there was a sizable life insurance policy we haven’t heard about yet.” Jess had little new information.
“We feel certain it was Alex but we don’t believe it was about money.”
That was always easy to say when you had plenty. “If that’s the case, why did he want his wife dead?”
Katherine braced her palms flat against the table. “We’ve had our differences, Jess. I recognize there is no love lost between us.”
There were many things Jess could say given that opening but she opted for the high road. “I never bring my personal feelings to the table when it comes to solving cases. Performing my duties to the best of my ability has nothing to do with the two of us, past, present, or future.”
Visibly taken aback, Katherine acknowledged Jess’s pointed summation with a single curt nod. “Very well, then. What I’m about to tell you is highly sensitive and the family wishes it to remain undisclosed. Particularly considering the memorial service is on Friday.”
As much as Jess wanted inside info on the case, as desperately as she would love to prove she was right about the shoes, there were certain things that simply could not remain undisclosed in a possible homicide case.
“Before you say anything else,” Jess advised, “understand that I cannot make any such promises. If you divulge information that might solve a case, I am compelled to pass that information along. The fact is, the Chandler case is Deputy Chief Black’s. It’s him that you should be talking to.”
“Point taken. In any event,” Katherine continued, “we fear Darcy was murdered because of an ongoing affair.”
“Her husband stated he had not participated in an extramarital affair in nearly two years. Do you have proof he was lying? Or that his most recent affair was different from all the others?” They needed a motive. One they could prove.
“The issue that may have resulted in a fatal confrontation wasn’t his affair, but that’s all I’m at liberty to say. The rest will require your expert investigative skills.”
Holy smokes. She hadn’t been expecting that one. “You’re saying Darcy was the one having an affair?”
Katherine gave one succinct nod.
“But you can’t say with whom.” Jess considered the only probable answer. “The other party is someone high up in social and/or political circles.”
Picking up her menu, Katherine said, “The grilled asparagus is incredible.”
Jess reached across the table and tugged the menu down so that Katherine would have no choice but to make eye contact. “What kind of family puts saving face above solving their own daughter’s possible homicide? Don’t you people realize that cops are like doctors—they can’t help you if you don’t tell them the whole truth?”
“Perhaps one day you’ll understand that with position and power comes a different set of rules. Life is no longer just black and white. There are sacrifices that have to be made to maintain the necessary perception. It’s that understanding and those sacrifices that determine where the power remains, Jessie Lee. Dan will tell you. He makes sacrifices with his every decision as chief of police. He has learned ho
w very important perception is. Those who rise to the top are the ones who learned that lesson best and at an early age.”
Jess didn’t need her to spell it out. Dan had made certain choices. He wanted to be a part of the powers that be in Birmingham. To make that journey, there were certain expectations. The right public perception, the right home, the proper wife.
A strange combination of anger, disappointment, and sadness churned in Jess’s belly. “What do you want from me, Katherine?” Jess had a case. A real case where normal people were depending on her.
“The Chandlers and I want you to find Darcy’s killer.”
“It’s not my case.” Why she didn’t get up and walk out she would never understand. Maybe she needed Dr. Oden more than she knew.
“We’re aware of the protocol in the department and we realize you can’t change that. It would mean a great deal if you could run a parallel case. Off the record.”
“Does that mean you expect me to keep this from Dan?”
Silence thickened between them for several pounds of Jess’s heart.
“Yes. My son cannot know. He can’t be put in that position. This is strictly between you and me, Jess. I’m counting on you.”
• • •
1:42 p.m.
Sweat beaded on Jess’s forehead no matter that she’d started the Audi and set the AC to cold and the fan to high.
She needed a new car. Or at least enough work done on this ancient thing to have the necessary functions running properly, which would likely cost an arm and a leg that she didn’t have to spare at this time.
Or maybe she just needed a good bicycle. With the price of gas soaring, maybe the whole world needed to start walking or biking again.
Katherine Burnett had placed Jess in a no-win situation. The Chandler case was not hers to investigate. If she went with her gut and with the Chandlers’ wishes, she could start a tug-of-war with Chief Black and every other division head in the Birmingham PD. Respect was a serious issue, as well it should be.
“Hell’s bells.” Jess powered the window down and struggled to draw in the humid air.
