Another Saturday Night and I Ain't Got No Body (A Page Turners Novel) (22 page)

* * *

“Hey
,
Finn, how ya doin’?” Jake entered the office and extended a hand to Jerry Finney. If he weren’t so preoccupied with thoughts of a certain curly-haired blonde whose name rhymed with ‘Funny’, he most likely would have noticed the two women on stakeout across the street. As it was, his mind was busy with thoughts of her in that ridiculous straw hat she wore while she gardened the other day. The way her eyes crinkled as her face broke into a smile…the way her skin had felt as he slid his hands inside that silk robe.

“Jake
?
Earth to Jake?” Finney snapped his fingers in order to get Jake’s attention.

“What
?
Sorry, man, got a lot on my mind.” He took a seat in one of the chairs across the desk from Finn. “So you got the results on the blood-covered shirt of Walter’s that I brought in the other day?”

In the hallway, Sunny’s eyes widened as she turned to look at Cassie.

“Yeah, I got the results back, and it is definitely a match to the DNA you gave me of Walter’s,” Finney confirmed.

“The way the blood pattern was arranged on the shirt is inconsistent though. I mean sure they could be from defensive wounds, but they could just as easily have been from the guy cutting himself and bleeding on his shirt,” Finney explained.

“So, basically, the shirt tells us nothing except that at one point Walter was bleeding?”

“Basically.”

“So, even if the shirt were used as evidence, it bears no proof of any wrong-doing and couldn’t be used as proof of guilt.” Jake said this as more of a statement than a question.

“So far, there’s no real proof that Walter’s body was even in the garage when it went up in flames,” Finn said.

“But I don’t like the effects the detective pulled from the site. The neighbors confirmed Walter was never without that pocket knife and always wore that eagle belt buckle. The wedding ring seems to offer the most proof that Walter’s body was either in the garage or that some kind of foul play is involved.”

“Again, those things are all circumstantial. I wish I could do more to help you out, buddy. I know how you felt about the old bastard.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted him to know how I felt about him too,” Jake said with conviction.

“If there’s anything else you want me to do, let me know. I ran up an invoice for the lab charges for you.”

“Put it on my tab,” Jake said warmly. “I appreciate what you’ve done.”

* * *

Sunny could tell the conversation was wrapping up. “I think he’s coming out,” she whispered to Cassie. “Let’s get out of here.”

In an effort to avoid being seen, they slipped into the closest door and let it shut quietly behind them. Sunny could see into the hallway through the shuttered window as the slats were tilted up and she heard the next door close. The two women pressed against the wall as Jake walked past the window and out of the mall.

“May I help you?” a calm voice asked, which caused them both to jump and Sunny to let out a little shriek.

They turned to find themselves in a room painted purple and gold, decorated with mystical moons and stars, a large mural of a dragon covering one whole wall. A small woman of slight build had come into the reception area and now watched the two women, patiently waiting for their response.

The woman held out her hand as she approached them. “I am Madame Zia, how can I be of service to you today?”

Sunny reached out and shook her hand. Smiling, she quickly tried to come up with a lie. “Ya know, my friend here is worried her husband is cheating on her, and we wondered how much it would be to hire a private investigator to spy on him.”

“Oh.” Madame Zia’s shoulders drooped as she let out a sigh. “You’ve come in the wrong door. The private investigator is the next door down. But if you ask me, I wouldn’t waste your money.”

“Sorry to bother you,” Cassie said, her eyes shooting daggers at Sunny as they slipped out the door.

Madame Zia waved them off and headed back into the office as she muttered, “Stupid eye is always throwing people off.”

The women looked through the glass to make sure Jake’s Mustang was gone before they pushed through the outside door.

“Well, now we know what was in the black garbage bag.” Sunny shielded her eyes with her hand as they stepped from the cool interior of the strip mall into the blinding sun.

“We know it was a bloody shirt, and it belonged to Walter, but where does that leave us?” Cassie asked, putting the giant bug-eyed glasses back on her face.

“I can hardly look at you in those stupid glasses without cracking up,” Sunny said.

“What? I got them at the goodwill this weekend for our stakeout. They disguise my face plus I think they’re kinda cool. Very Marilyn Monroe.”

“Try Marilyn Manson. They are hideous. Don’t ever wear them again,” Sunny instructed.

“Fine.” Cassie huffed as she pulled her regular sunglasses from her bag and tossed the too-large glasses in. “Are we gonna stand here talking about my failed stakeout-fashion sense, or are we gonna talk about what we saw in there with your stud-muffin neighbor?” 

“Sorry. You’re right.” Sunny had been using the jokes about the glasses as a way to avoid thinking about the things they had heard Jake telling the private investigator. “Did you hear Jake asking that stuff about using it as evidence in court
?
Either he was asking if they could use it against the killer, or stating that it couldn’t be used as evidence against him–
if
he’s the one who killed Walter.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t tell by his voice how he meant it, but you
could
tell that he doesn’t think very highly of Walter. It doesn’t sound like he likes the guy very much.”

“So you
do
think he killed Walter?” Sunny asked.

“I’m not saying that. Just because he doesn’t like him doesn’t mean I think he killed him and torched his body in a garage explosion. I honestly don’t know what to think.” Cassie sighed. “He could be trying to find out who killed Walter just like we are.”

Sunny groaned. “The main reason I did this stupid stake-out idea was because I was hoping that we would see something to prove that Jake has nothing to do with Walter’s disappearance. Now I am more confused than ever.”

“Have you thought about just asking Jake if he knows what happened to Walter?” Cassie asked.

“I have. He just gets all evasive, changes the subject and acts like he is clueless about where Walter is. And then he usually says something charming or funny, and all I can think about is kissing him, then I forget all about Walter.” Sunny dropped her head in shame. “I am a terrible person.”

“You are not,” Cassie assured her. “You are a normal, hot-blooded woman who is a little ga-ga over an amazingly gorgeous man.”

Sunny sighed. “The only trouble is, this amazingly gorgeous man may have murdered my next-door neighbor.” 

19

I have to see you again
.
Maggie read the text again as she waited.

It was Monday afternoon, and she sat outside a cute downtown restaurant a few blocks from her office and debated her decision to agree to meet him for lunch. Part of her wanted to get up and run back to her safe law office where she was in charge and had control of the outcomes. Part of her couldn’t wait for him to show up so she could see him smile again.

“Are you ready to order?” The waitress set a glass of water on the table before her. A lemon slice floated amidst the ice cubes, and beads of condensation clung to the outside of the clear glass.

“No, thank you. I’m waiting for someone,” Maggie replied. “He should be here any minute.”

“Oh, are you waiting for your husband?”

“No.” Maggie tensed as images of Chad the Cheater filled her head, and she reached for her purse, ready to flee as quickly as she could. “No. I am definitely not waiting for my husband.” 

“Sorry,” the waitress replied, unaware of the social faux-pas she had made as she already moved toward the next table. “I’ll check back with you in a few minutes when your date arrives.”

My date?
Fingers of panic squeezed her chest tighter.
What am I thinking
?
I don’t go on dates
.
She clutched her purse to her chest and pushed her chair back.

Then suddenly he was there.

She sucked in her breath as she watched him weave his way through the maze of tables, then pull out the chair across from her, smiling as he dropped into it.

“Hi, Maggie,” he said.

“Hi, Jeremy,” she said and slowly exhaled.

“Am I late
?
Were you getting ready to give up on me?” He motioned to the purse she still gripped.

“No, you’re right on time.” She loosened her grip on her bag and scooted her chair back up to the table.

“I’m nervous too,” he said kindly as he shook out his napkin and placed it across his lap. “But I’m really glad you came.”

“I am too.” She relaxed a little as she pulled her napkin free. She wiped her damp palms across the cloth napkin.

“Do you come here often?” he asked.

She laughed at the common pickup line and replied, “Yes, and I’m a Sagittarius. What’s your sign?”

His face broke into the grin she remembered and her heart sped up just a little. Jeremy blushed and said, “No, I really mean have you been before, like what’s good to eat?” 

“Oh, um, they have great sandwiches, and their fries are fresh-cut. Or they have Caesar salads or Cobb salads. And their soup is really good, especially their chicken noodle.” She stopped. She was rambling. She could mesmerize a room full of people and speak so eloquently a jury of twelve people would cry, but she couldn’t tell this one man what was good at a restaurant.
Pull yourself together, woman.

“So your date finally arrived. What can I get you two?”  The waitress appeared over Maggie’s shoulder.

Maggie had been married for so long that the word
date
seemed foreign to her. She looked across the table at this man who smiled freely at her and knew in her heart that she was going to be okay. Whether this date led to another or whether this was it, she could do this. She was still an attractive woman, and she knew she had something to offer. She took another deep breath and turned to the waitress. “I will have the chicken noodle soup with the half turkey and cheddar sandwich.” 

“I’ll have the same.” Jeremy handed the waitress his menu.

“Something to drink?”

“Water’s fine,” he said, his eyes again on Maggie’s face.

Why does it feel like he can see into my very soul?
She couldn’t look away.

She wiped her palms against her napkin again. “So tell me about yourself.”

He laughed easily, and then he did tell her. He talked about his job and his family, then he asked about hers. He had never been married, but not because he hadn’t wanted to. He had just been caught up in his career and hadn’t met anyone that captured his attention enough to take his mind off his work.

“Until now,” he said shyly. “Now I find myself drifting off at my desk thinking about a dark-haired beauty that I can’t seem to get out of my mind.”

Maggie smiled as her cheeks warmed. “My thoughts have been doing a little drifting off at work as well.”

“They have?” He outwardly flirted now. “Tell me more about these thoughts you’ve been having.”

Their lunch arrived, and they talked easily through their meal. Over coffee and a shared piece of chocolate cake, Maggie found herself telling him how she got married right after high school and the struggles of attending college and law school with a husband and two babies. She told him about Chad and his betrayal and the deterioration of their marriage.

“Wow. I don’t know why I just told you that,” she said. “I really don’t talk about it much.” Something about him made her want to talk. Made her feel like she could trust him. The feelings were so foreign to her, she almost didn’t recognize them.

“I’m glad you told me,” Jeremy said. “It means you’re getting comfortable with me.”  The back of his hand rested lightly against hers as he held his coffee cup.

“It’s really not a great first date topic.” She felt the warmth of his hand against hers, afraid to move for fear that warmth would end.

“What date do you think would be a good one to bring up your adulterous ex-husband?” he teased.

She laughed. “Oh, probably the tenth or fifteenth.”

“Okay, on our fifteenth date, you can tell me about him again.”  He reached for his wallet as the waitress set the check on the table but kept his eyes steady on Maggie’s.

“Okay, fifteenth date it is,” she said, losing herself into his dark eyes, and for the first time in over a year, she placed her trust in a man.

He passed the waitress back the check with a twenty and a ten, telling her that he appreciated the service and to keep the change.