Roz let out a low whistle. “I knew that guy was crazy about you. And what did you get him?”
“Roz, I really don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“Clark is beside me, DeeDee. His finger is hovering on Jake’s number. All I have to do is give him the nod…”
“A drill,” DeeDee blurted out. “I bought him an electric drill.”
Roz was silent, and DeeDee grimaced at Balto. She knew Roz’s scathing reply was a certainty.
“Ah,” Roz said at last. “This, from the woman who didn’t speak to her ex-husband for two weeks when he bought her a leather luggage set as a birthday gift one year. And a very expensive, designer luggage set, as I recall.”
“That’s different,” DeeDee argued. “I thought Lyle bought me the luggage because he was taking me on a secret trip somewhere. Except the trip never materialized. It was just the luggage. What sort of gift is that?”
“Better than a drill,” Roz pointed out.
“If you must know, Jake was delighted. There were no complaints from him, I can assure you.”
“That’s because he’s far too polite,” Roz said. “Anyway, I can’t wait to see the ring. Can you text me a picture of it? I know Clark and I just got married, but he’s dying to buy me an eternity ring, isn’t that right, darling?”
DeeDee heard Clark protest.
“I don’t have it,” DeeDee said. “I threw it… I mean gave it back to him.”
And then it all came out. Tears trickled down her face as she told Roz about the argument caused by her working on New Year’s Eve, culminating in her throwing the ring in the darkness at Jake.
Roz squealed. “But you went out and got it afterwards, right?”
DeeDee looked at Balto, who was looking sadly at her. “I was too angry that night,” she said, “but I did look for it the next day, so I could return it to him.”
If Roz sensed her distress, she didn’t acknowledge it. “Go on, DeeDee. Please tell me you found the ring.”
“Roz, I was on my hands and knees in the grass out in the front yard for hours. It’s lost. I looked everywhere,” she said quietly. “If I could turn back the clock, believe me, I would. You don’t need to tell me how badly I messed up. I’m doing a pretty good job of that myself. Can you humor me and change the subject to talk about something happier, like how amazing your honeymoon was?”
Roz relented. “Okay. But don’t blame me when you’re green with envy. I could talk about it all day.”
DeeDee lay back and closed her eyes, imagining the sandy beaches and water villas on stilts that Roz was describing, her mouth watering for the delicious food and her cold skin craving the warmth of the Caribbean sun.
Eventually, Roz had talked enough about paradise to calm DeeDee and almost put her to sleep. “Promise me you’ll keep both the gun and Balto beside you, and that you’ll call us if there’s anything you need,” her sister said gently.
“I promise,” DeeDee said, ending the call and hugging Balto closer to her.
Chapter Seven
Jake raised his ax high in the air before slamming it down in a series of vicious strikes against the log sitting upright on the outdoor chopping block in his backyard. When he was done, he pushed the split pieces of wood into the crate lying beside the chopping block, lifted another log, and repeated the procedure. There was something calming about the process, the satisfying crack of the log as it split in two, then each piece into two again. Jake chopped to the rhythm of the music that was coming from his CD player. It wasn’t the usual classical music he preferred for relaxing, as the task at hand and his somber mood called for something heavy with lots of bass notes.
Instead, Survivor’s “Eye of the Tiger” blasted from the tinny speakers. He’d cut enough wood the past couple of days to see him through several winters, but that was no excuse for him to stop. Otherwise, he might have to think about the real reason that he was unable to go about his normal day-to-day routine.
The ringtone coming from his cell phone on the patio table disturbed his concentration, and he rested the ax on the ground, making his way around the corner of the house to where the natural stone patio nestled between the house and the garden. Wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, he squinted at the screen of the device, which was hard to see without his reading glasses.
“Hello. This is Jake.”
“Jake, Dan Hewson here. Have I caught you at a bad time?”
Jake looked at the angry water frothing in the Sound just beyond the end of his garden, and along with the dark and threatening sky, it indicated he’d need to lay a tarp over the firewood before the heavens opened. He smiled. “Is there such a thing, when you’re outdoors on Bainbridge Island? I could think of plenty worse places to be. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call, Chief?”
Dan cleared his throat. “Jake, I hope you don’t mind me calling like this. I’ll get straight to the point. I have a little situation I think you should be aware of.”
“Shoot Dan, and Happy New Year. Are you going to watch the football games today?” Jake sat down in a chair, and checked the time on his wristwatch. He had just enough time to go for a walk before the weather closed in, and then he could hunker down to a quiet afternoon of the games on television and a couple of beers in front of a roaring fire. It wasn’t like he had anything else planned.
“I wish,” Dan said. “I doubt that I’ll even be near a television set for the rest of the day. I’m not sure if you’re aware of it, but there was a high-profile murder on the island last night. That’s the reason I’m calling. It kind of has to do with you.”
Jake motioned to his dog, Yukon, who came over and sat down beside him.
“Sorry, Chief, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve been outside all morning, and I haven’t seen the television or listened to the radio, so I don’t know anything about a murder. I was home by myself last night, and the only thing I was aware of were illegal firecrackers being shot off and bothering my dog.”
Dan let out a heavy sigh. “Jake, this is none of my business. I understand you’re no longer seeing DeeDee Wilson, but she’s involved in this incident, and I’m concerned about her safety.”
Jake bolted upright onto his feet and Yukon, sensing his master’s change of mood, stood on alert. “What happened, Dan? Is DeeDee alright, did someone hurt her?” Jake asked as he began pacing back and forth on the patio.
“Dana Donnelly was murdered at her home last night. Have you heard the name?”
Jake frowned. “Yes, I’ve seen her show once or twice. She’s not my cup of tea, but I heard that DeeDee was catering the event. We kind of…let’s just say we had words about it, which is how I know. You’d better fill me in, Dan.”
Jake headed in the direction of the beach with Yukon, the wind rising, as the Chief told him DeeDee’s version of what happened after everyone had left the party.
“She was rearranging the food in her car and saw someone running out from the back yard,” Dan relayed in a serious tone. He went on to tell Jake about the note DeeDee had found under her windshield wiper earlier that morning. “I’m concerned that the person who wrote it is the same person who murdered Dana Donnelly,” Dan said. “The person might try to do something to DeeDee if they think that she can identify him or her.”
Jake didn’t need to hear him say it, since he was thinking the exact same thing himself. His heart was pounding as he strode across the sand, Yukon outpacing him. “Chief, thanks for letting me know about this. Would you please keep me posted on any developments? It’s just…I wouldn’t like anything bad to happen to DeeDee.”
“No problem, Jake. I’ve got another call on the line, so I have to go, but I’ll let you know whatever I find out.”
He felt the first heavy drops of rain splash on his head. “Chief, it’s good to know you’re looking out for her. I appreciate it. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Jake whistled for Yukon to follow him, and he turned back towar
ds his house. The firewood needed covering, but that wasn’t what was worrying him. By the time he reached the house, every fiber in his body wanted to jump in his jeep and race over to DeeDee’s place to make sure she was safe. Instead, he forced himself to lift the crate and carry it over to the wood pile. Neatly stacking the freshly cut firewood, he spread a heavy black tarpaulin over the pile of wood, and headed through the patio doors just in time to escape the downpour.
Inside, he stared at the phone for a long time. His attempts to push DeeDee out of his mind for the last few days had been completely erased as soon as Chief Hewson mentioned her name, and he found himself torn about what to do next. All he wanted to do was go and find her, and keep her out of harm’s way. How he could resist the temptation to take her in his arms and hold her again if he saw her, he’d never know. But DeeDee had made it very clear he was no longer welcome in her life. The blow to his pride was something he could overlook if he thought there was any chance of a reconciliation, but the way they’d left things, he wasn’t holding his breath.
The phone rang again while he was looking at it, and this time his glasses were within reach. Seeing the familiar name on the screen, he took the call.
“Hi, Roz,” he said, hoping the strain was not evident in his voice. “How’s the bride?”
From the sound of things, Roz’s mood matched his own. “She was a lot better until she talked to her sister. Are you aware of what’s happened to DeeDee? I’m so worried.”
“You’re not the only one.” Jake raked a hand through his hair. “Police Chief Hewson knew that DeeDee and I were involved, and I just got off the phone with him. He told me about the threat to DeeDee’s life.”
“Jake, I’m freaking out over here.” Roz’s voice was breaking. “I know you and DeeDee had words, but most people who are seeing each other have differences of opinion at some point. I don’t know the details, but I’m the first one to admit my sister has a stubborn streak. She doesn’t like to apologize or say she was wrong about something, but this is really bigger than that. Is there anything at all you can do to help?”
Jake’s chest tightened at Roz’s impassioned plea. “Roz, she made it perfectly clear to me that she and I are through, over, kaput. Even if I offered to help her, she wouldn’t accept it. You know that, don’t you?”
“You’re probably right,” Roz conceded. “What are we going to do? Do you have any suggestions?”
“I’ve been sitting here racking my brain thinking about how I can help, without her knowing I’m doing it,” Jake said. “If the killer thinks DeeDee can identify him or her, sooner or later that person is going to make a move.”
“Oh, Jake.” Roz exhaled loudly. “Can I take it from that you still care for her?”
Jake rubbed his unshaven chin. “Roz, I don’t just care for her, I love her with every ounce of my being. She hasn’t left my thoughts since I last saw her five days ago, no matter how hard I’ve tried to distract myself. If anyone so much as touches a hair on DeeDee’s head, believe me, they won’t live to regret it. As a matter of fact, I had something special to ask her on New Year’s Eve, but obviously, that didn’t happen.”
“Oh, Jake, I’m so sorry. I wish I could help by talking some sense into her.”
“I wish you could too, but some things just are what they are. The most important thing right now is that we keep her safe. Short of me standing guard outside her house, I don’t see how that’s going to happen. I have a feeling she might notice.”
“I do have one idea,” Roz said, with some uncertainty. “But I’m not sure how she would take it. You know Clark is going to inherit a boatload of money in a few weeks, right? I was thinking maybe we should hire a bodyguard for DeeDee. The cost isn’t an issue. What would you think of that?”
Jake shook his head. He reached down and stroked Yukon, who had left a trail of wet sandy paw prints on the living room floor. “I don’t think it would work. Your sister, as you know better than I do, is very private. A bodyguard would have to live in the house with her, and I just don’t see her agreeing to that, do you?”
Roz sighed. “No, you’re right. I don’t.” She was quiet for a few moments before speaking up again. “Jake, I know you wrote Al De Duco about what happened to Clark and everything, after you discovered that Francesca was dead. Do you have his telephone number?”
It was Jake’s turn to be quiet. The possibilities of what Roz was implying appealed to him. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, Roz?” he asked.
“Yes.” Roz’s speech quickened. “If we can somehow get Al out here to Seattle, I think it would work. DeeDee really liked him. Plus, she’d let him stay in the house because she knows him.”
“I think you could be on to something here,” Jake agreed. “I guess there’s no harm in asking him. He can only say no.”
“You and I both know if he guarded Clark’s Uncle Vinny for forty years because of all the Mob stuff he was involved in, Al would be a natural to watch over DeeDee until the killer is caught.” Roz paused for a second. “Matter of fact, he could help you do that.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Jake said in protest. “I never said I was going to get involved.”
“You didn’t need to, Jake, I just knew you would. Let me know what Al says.”
Roz ended the call, the faint tinkle of her laughter causing Jake to smile for the first time in days.
Chapter Eight
Al De Duco lazed in a folding camping chair at the end of the wooden dock, and adjusted his hat to shield his eyes from the afternoon sun. His view of the turquoise crystal-clear water of the Caribbean Sea for miles ahead was broken only by a cruise ship on the horizon, heading toward the busy port of Georgetown, some distance farther up the coast. Al was alone except for Red, his handsome Doberman pinscher, who stood at attention behind him and circled Al’s chair once in a while.
“Red, you gotta quit starin’ into the water over the edge like that,” Al said, smacking a fly that had landed on his leg with a loud slap. He flicked the mushy dead insect off his skin and turned to Red. “I tol’ ya, yer’ scarin’ the fish.”
Al gave his fishing pole a hopeful tug for the umpteenth time that day, only to find the line was completely slack. “Maybe it needs more bait,” Al muttered, reeling in the line. Reaching down to a battered tobacco tin that lay by his feet, he opened it and reached inside, his beefy fingers grabbing several clams he’d previously removed from their shells. There was a squish as he pressed them onto the hook attached to the end of the line, and then he cast it back into the water.
Red growled, and Al turned to see a local boy watching them from the far end of the dock. “C’mere kid,” he shouted to the child, and waved his arm for him to come forward. When the boy approached him, Al saw he wasn’t more than six or seven years old, with a smile that showed that several of his baby teeth were missing. He stopped a few feet away from Red, who was standing guard in front of Al.
“Ya’ know how to fish, son?” Al asked him.
“Sure,” the boy said, “but this isn’t a good place to fish. You need to come on my dad’s boat, then we can show you how to really catch fish.”
“Might be a good idea,” Al said, considering the offer. “What’s the boat called?”
“The Bob Marley, sir,” said the boy, taking a brave step closer.
“Right,” Al said, with a laugh. “Are you sure fish are the only thing your old man carries on his boat?”
“Maybe…maybe not,” the boy said with a shrug and a wink.
“You’re a smart little guy,” Al said. “Tell ya’ what, when I’m ready to go fishin’ on yer’ boat, I’ll come and find ya’, how does that sound? For now, I like keepin’ my feet on solid ground.” He felt a tug on his fishing pole, and almost fell out of his seat with excitement. “Hang on, I think I got a big ‘un.”
Al focused all his attention in reeling in the fish. He wasn’t going to lose it now, not after all the time he’d invested in getting it on t
he line. When a fish no bigger than his hand popped out of the water, Al swung it up and onto the dock. Al puffed up with pride. Standing, he dangled the fish in the air while snapping a selfie with his phone. When he was finished he released the fish back into the water.
It was the boy’s turn to laugh. “Next time, maybe a blue marlin, mister. Is that your car over there?” He nodded his head in the direction of Al’s silver Ferrari California T convertible, which was parked near the end of the dock.
Al grinned. “Yeah.” His phone started to ring, and the boy waved goodbye and sauntered back down the dock, where he stopped beside Al’s car and took a selfie of his own before wandering off. Al watched him with a smile before swiping the screen of his phone.
“Yo,” Al said as he settled back into the chair, trying to decide whether he should cast his line out again, or pack it up for the day. He could come back again tomorrow, and all the days after that. After all, he was retired now, and he could do whatever he wanted to do.
“Hi, Al, it’s Jake Rogers.”
“Hey Jake. Howya’ doin’? Didn’t expect to be hearin’ from ya’ this soon. Must mean ya’ got a problem.”
“Yeah, you could say that,” Jake began.
“Guess ya’ better tell ol’ Al all about it.” Al hoped nothing had happened to Clark and Roz. He’d recently helped them out while Clark had been a suspect when Clark’s Uncle Vinny, Al’s former boss, had been murdered. “Everythin’ okay with the newlyweds? And how’s DeeDee?”
“Roz and Clark are fine,” Jake assured Al. “But DeeDee and I aren’t seeing each other anymore. Long story short, this call is about her, though.”
Al listened while Jake relayed the story of Dana’s murder, culminating with the note DeeDee had found on her windshield that morning. When Jake was done, Al sat quietly for a few moments before he spoke. From what little he knew of Jake and DeeDee, he liked them both. Jake was a straight-down-the-line type of man, and whatever had gone down with Jake and DeeDee, Al sensed the guy was still crazy about her. His boss Vinny had also had a thing for DeeDee before he died, and Al’s loyalty to Vinny was unwavering, even after his death. He knew Vinny would want him to do the right thing.
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