She’d asked that three times already, angling for some indication that the meeting was over so she could get back to work. She was the strongest woman he had ever known.
Despite just how shitty this day had been so far, he felt a smile coming on. She hadn’t dried her hair after her shower. Back in college, she had always complained if he tried distracting her before her hair was dry after a shower. Just like back then, that mass of blond locks looked all wavy and sexy. She’d made a halfhearted effort at a ponytail but wisps had worked their way loose. And the glasses. She didn’t wear them all the time, but when she did, he couldn’t help thinking of that old classic eighties video ‘Hot for Teacher.’
‘This is exactly what got us into trouble last night,’ she warned.
He snapped out of the lust coma and slid his hands into his pockets. ‘You’re right. We broke your number one rule.’ No point pretending he didn’t know what she meant. She was the only woman who had ever made him want to break the rules.
‘
Our
rule, Burnett.’ She cocked an eyebrow. ‘We should show a bit more restraint next time, wouldn’t you say?’
‘We should.’ He would try. He really would.
‘How long will they need my car?’
It took a sec for him to shake off the I-want-you fog wrapped around his brain and to focus on the answer to her question. ‘You’ll have it back tomorrow. You can use one from the motor pool tonight.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Her laugh was the real thing this time. ‘I can catch a ride with one of my detectives, thank you very much.’
‘You could catch a ride with me,’ he proposed.
Smart, Burnett
. Spend time alone with her in her apartment again tonight. Way to go, idiot.
She smiled and he felt a little twinge deep in his chest. That smile and those lips had haunted him for two decades. God, he was glad she was back where she belonged.
Home
. Close to him even if not
with
him, officially.
‘I should get back to work,’ she said with a pointed look that told him she had a good idea what was on his mind.
Before he could formulate a response, she gave him her back. At forty-two he shouldn’t still have those moments of uncertainty as to what to say or do next, but here he was watching her go with no idea how to proceed either way.
Jess paused at the door. ‘By the way, we’re invited to the Barons’ Labor Day party. Mark your calendar, Burnett. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
Leaving him dumbfounded by the announcement, she was gone before he could ask how the hell that invitation had come about.
He heaved a big breath that did absolutely nothing to relieve the frustration banding around his chest. On top of all the rest, apparently between now and Labor Day he would need to explain his past with the Baron family. The
whole
story.
Something else he wasn’t looking forward to. He’d spent ten years trying to put that nightmare behind him.
Chapter Seven
Vestavia Village, 4.00
P.M.
J
ess finished her tea and placed the glass on the elegant crystal tray waiting on the coffee table in the middle of Frances Wallace’s unexpectedly opulent gathering room. Not a living room or great room or den, she had explained to Jess. The condos had gathering rooms with mini kitchens equipped for serving cold refreshments. No
cooking
kitchens or dining rooms. There was no need. The residents’ meals were served in the facility’s dining hall.
At least this way there was no worry about anyone accidentally burning the place down.
‘This won’t stop them,’ Lucille argued. ‘The construction will continue anyway. Our situation has not changed.
At all
. Why would we want to kill Scott much less bother doing so?’ The last she delivered with a look that proclaimed the mere idea grated like broken glass against her delicate sensibilities.
Lucille Blevins was as blunt as Frances and about as delicate as the Glock Jess carried. She was the eldest of the group and made sure everyone understood that detail carried certain privileges.
And the two janitors had called Frances the ringleader. Ha!
Frances sighed loudly. ‘Mercy alive, Lucille. No one’s saying that.’
‘You said it.’ Polly Neal lifted her thin chin in consternation. ‘Said you wanted him dead. I heard you. So did everyone else.’
Molly Jones, Polly’s twin, nodded adamantly. ‘I heard it too.’ She turned to the others. ‘We all heard it. Didn’t we?’
The heads of the other three, Geraldine Lusk, Colleen Sharp, and Pansy Cornelius, moved up and down in frantic agreement. They stole a glance at Jess and stopped abruptly. Then another of those free-for-alls started with everyone assuring Jess that Frances would never hurt anyone. Absolutely not. Not even Scott Baker.
No wonder Frances felt compelled to rally around these ladies despite every last one of them being a tattletale. Well into their eighties, all lacked the actual know-how to dive into a war against the facility’s board unless their strategy was to frustrate them to death. The sort of ladies who lived their whole lives with husbands taking care of everything. Nothing wrong with that for those who chose that lifestyle. Had Jess’s mother lived, she would have been the same way. Lily’s relationship with her husband wasn’t that different even now.
Jess could not imagine leaving all that control up to the man in her life – when she had a man in her life.
She supposed Dan was kind of in her life. Sort of.
No one made Jess’s decisions for her. The last time that happened, she’d spent from age ten to eighteen in a carousel of foster homes. The day she turned eighteen she made up her mind that would never happen again. Her livelihood and happiness would never depend on anyone else.
She hauled herself back to the present. Following up on the statements made by the widows was nothing more than a formality. Lori had taken each, one at a time, to Frances’s balcony and gone over her statement while Jess attempted to explain how the investigation worked and the roles the ladies played in bringing to light the events of the past twenty-four hours. Prescott and Cook had already done the initial interviews but Jess needed to do this. Mostly to reassure herself that she wasn’t missing anything.
That was working out just great so far.
Not
.
Bless their hearts. Jess reached for more patience and waited out this latest squabble. They were cute as buttons and for the most part sweet as could be. Except maybe for the twins. Those two were vicious little old ladies from what Jess had gathered so far. Looked as if they were ready to throw Frances under the bus and back up a couple of times.
During a moment of silence as they all caught their breaths and wet their whistles, Frances stared longingly at her tea as if she wished it were something far stronger. ‘Ladies,’ she said in a surprisingly calm voice, ‘I said nothing about killing Scott Baker or wanting him dead. What I said was,’ she stated firmly when mouths opened to protest, ‘I hoped to live long enough to see him
eat those words and die
. I didn’t mean I wanted him to literally die. I meant he should go to hell.’
‘You could’ve just said that,’ Lucille demanded. ‘Maybe then we wouldn’t be in this hellacious predicament.’
A collective round of gasps from the others punctuated the statements.
Frances looked heavenward. ‘God, help me.’
Jess cleared her throat. ‘Ladies.’
All eyes shifted to her. At least she had their attention again. The question was, how long could she keep it?
‘None of you are suspects in this case. You are only persons of interest. But your statements are important to the investigation.’ Jess kept her hands folded in her lap in hopes of presenting a calm, cool demeanor. She sure didn’t need any of these ladies having a stroke or a heart attack. Try explaining a scene like that to the press. ‘Anything you remember beyond what you’ve shared in your statement could be useful in finding the person who did this awful thing.’
Molly and Polly shared a look. ‘You mean we’re not in any sort of trouble?’ the latter asked.
‘No, ma’am,’ Jess assured her. ‘We only needed to go over your statements regarding where you were last night and to discuss whatever you might know about any enemies Mr Baker may have had.’
‘You mean beyond every single soul he met?’ Lucille challenged.
‘Do you know of any specific person or persons with whom Mr Baker had trouble?’ Jess tried again.
‘Scott Baker was a very savvy businessman, Jess,’ Frances said. ‘He told me once that he’d never met anyone he couldn’t charm when it came to negotiations.’ She lifted her glass in a salute. ‘Besides me, of course.’
‘No one other than the seven of you were against this new construction?’ Jess tried a different tactic.
Heads wagged. ‘They’re all too afraid to speak up,’ Lucille explained.
‘Why would anyone be afraid to speak up?’ That was the first time she’d heard that one.
The widows clammed up as if she’d asked which one lost her virginity first.
‘We pay well for this luxury,’ Frances spoke up when no one else would. ‘But there are rules. Opening hours for the dining room and the little movie theater we all love so much. He made it a point to learn our habits, what we enjoyed, and then when we crossed him about this, he took the things we cared about away.’
‘Give me an example,’ Jess prompted, her dislike for the deceased mounting.
‘I have dinner with my daughter’s family on Monday nights. Afterward I come back here and enjoy a cup of tea in the dining room with my friends before retiring for the evening. He instructed Ms Warren to stop serving tea after eight.’ She waved her arms to indicate her lovely home. ‘We’re not allowed to cook in our condos, not even with a microwave. We can’t even have a coffeemaker or a teapot.’
‘He fired my hairdresser,’ Polly said. ‘I won’t let anyone else touch my hair.’ She patted her curly gray locks. ‘From the day the salon opened, Deidra was my stylist. He fired her. I can’t make arrangements to go to the new shop in town where Deidra works since one of the occupancy rules require we use the on
-
site salon.’
‘I’m addicted to hot fudge pie.’ Lucille wrapped her arms around her waist as if the confession drew everyone’s attention to her healthy middle. ‘As soon as I signed that petition to stop construction, the dining room stopped serving my pie.’
Jess leaned forward, outrage kindling in her belly. None of these instances were exactly torture tactics but the man was strong-arming these old women. No, he was bullying them. ‘Have you contacted attorneys to have your contracts reviewed?’ There had to be a law against this mistreatment.
‘It’s all in the fine print,’ Frances announced, the weight of the battle she’d been waging showing on her face. ‘Baker was a brilliant businessman. He may not have charmed me but he certainly outmaneuvered me.’
‘No enemies to your knowledge, other than the residents such as yourselves who were unhappy with him?’ Jess should get this interview back on track. ‘No one in particular who came around that stirred your interest in what he might be up to?’ This was as close as Jess would get to outright asking if the man was having an affair. She wanted these ladies to give her information, not the answers they thought she wanted to hear.
‘No one I can recall,’ Frances said first.
Lucille shook her head.
Jess tried a different tactic. ‘No problems with his deputy administrator or his secretary?’
‘They’re having an affair,’ Polly said in a stage whisper.
Now they were getting somewhere. ‘Mr Baker and his secretary?’ Jess asked.
‘Oh no!’ Molly laughed. ‘Baker was too boring for that. Mr Clemmons and the secretary are having an affair.’
Everyone in the room started tossing out the latest gossip they’d heard. Jess held up her hands to quiet them. ‘We need facts, ladies. Just the facts.’ Whatever the deputy administrator was doing, Scott Baker had sex with someone before his murder.
‘If Baker was having an affair,’ Frances said as if she were the final authority in the matter, ‘he was very discreet. I’ve never heard a rumor like that about him.’
Jess waited for her to go on. As did the others, fortunately.
‘Scott loved his wife. He loved his son. He loved his life.’ For a bit Frances looked as if she might weep. ‘I despised his business tactics but’ – she drew in a deep breath – ‘he would never have hurt his wife or any other woman like that. He wasn’t that kind of man. He worked. He went home to his family. That’s it.’
‘How can you be so certain?’ Lucille demanded, her gaze narrow with suspicion.
‘I hired a PI.’ Frances gave a little half shrug. ‘So sue me. I figured if I could find some dirt on him, we could be rid of him. Maybe if there was evidence he’d used his position in some inappropriate manner to manipulate the Your Life corporation coming in and taking over, then we could undo this mess. What I discovered was that he was a cutthroat businessman. He lied to us at every opportunity and, worse, he stole the peace we all deserved.’
‘And paid for,’ Polly added for good measure.
‘A private investigator?’ All the frustration and impatience Jess had been holding back whipped out of her on those three words. ‘You have a background investigation and surveillance reports and you didn’t think to mention that?’
Frances heaved another big sigh. ‘I didn’t want to look any guiltier than I already do. Hiring a PI is a little extreme. I recognize that now. But I was flustered and it seemed like a good idea at the time.’
‘I’ll need those reports immediately,’ Jess warned. ‘As in right this minute.’
‘You can have them.’ Frances got up from her camel-back sofa and walked over to a table near the door. ‘But the reports are full of nothing.’ She crossed back to Jess and handed her a pathetically thin manila folder.
Jess stood. ‘Thank you, ladies.’ She surveyed the group. ‘I appreciate your cooperation.’ She smiled and just for the devil of it said, ‘Now don’t y’all be leaving town until I give you the go-ahead.’
She strode toward the door with Frances hot on her heels and the other six whispering loud enough for folks in the next condo to hear.
‘Jess, you know I didn’t mean any harm keeping that from you. I forgot, that’s all.’
She wanted to be upset with her favorite teacher but that just wasn’t possible, so she whispered back, ‘This better be the only thing you didn’t tell me about.’
‘I swear.’ Frances held up the two fingers signifying Scout’s honor.
Jess opened the door but decided to give Frances one last counsel. ‘Keep your widows under control.’ Then she was out of there.
This widows’ club didn’t know a thing that would help the Baker investigation. Jess was confident of that assessment. Still, as a cop, the truth was that the only thing preventing Frances Wallace from becoming a full-fledged suspect was Jess’s certainty that the killer had been far stronger and faster than her.
Lori waited in the courtyard, her cell phone pressed to her ear. Judging by her exasperated hand gestures, she was not too happy with her caller. She and Chet Harper had just moved in together. Was there trouble in paradise already? Chet had a three-year-old son. Lori was worried about whether the child liked her or not. Maybe that was the real issue.
Jess wished she could make the younger woman understand that these things took time and patience. Something she’d never had enough of. That was why, at forty-two, she was alone unless you counted her off-the-record affair with her boss.
The man she was supposed to have married twenty years ago.
Another hard lesson learned about not relying on others or love or money.
Jess booted the past back to its place deep in the nether regions of her gray matter. She had a homicide to solve.
Lori looked up as Jess drew nearer. She quickly ended the call but there was no speedy way to banish the mixture of emotions from her face. She was worried and frustrated. Jess was confident her frustrations had nothing to do with the widows.
‘That was Harper.’
‘Everything all right?’
Lori joined her progression toward the parking area. Jess put her hand on her arm and stopped her for a moment. ‘Just look at that view.’ She admired the calm water of the lake. The birds dipping down for a drink with the breeze playing with the lovely ornamental grasses nestled around its rocky shore.
When the sun dropped amid the trees in the distance, it would be a breathtaking sight. No wonder the board was anxious to squeeze more out of this view. According to the plans she had seen in Baker’s office, the new condo tower would be far taller and larger than the one Frances and her friends occupied. Leaving them absolutely no scenic view whatsoever.
Jess moved on. ‘You were saying Harper called?’
‘Mrs Baker is back home and she wants to speak to the person in charge of her husband’s case.’ Lori hit the clicker to unlock her Mustang. ‘Like right now.’
That was generally Jess’s line. Since the wife had been out of town and the mayor had been keeping word of her return under wraps, Jess was glad someone wanted to help with this investigation rather than hinder it.