Ms. Got Rocks (24 page)

“Not stupid, Rocky I do not do stupid things; don’t ever say that I’m stupid,” Jazz was raising her voice.

Rocky took a step away from Jazz as they continued toward the cabin.

“It was physics, just physics; there is enough water in the river for someone his weight to dive into safely,” Jazz stated, her voice back under control.

“But he didn’t dive; you deliberately dropped him off the bridge,” Rocky said not wanting to let Jazz off the hook.

“Was he hurt? No, well, maybe his ego was hurt, but not his body,” Jazz stated in a tone that suggested she did not intend to discuss the incident further.

Jazz went into the guest room and closed the door. Rocky sat on the porch and watched until the parents and the tow truck left on the county road. No one came up to the cabin to talk.

In the time she waited in the dark, Rocky decided to talk to Deputy Justin Dixon, even turn herself in. The thought also occurred to Rocky that diving underwater with someone who can flip moods that readily was not what she wanted to do. Rocky had never seen that side of Jazz and she was wisely scared.

Rocky woke up after sunrise on day she could return to the river. She still had the anxious feeling in the bottom of her gut regarding Jazz’ emotional stability.

She heard a dredge motor puttering in the distance. Probably that damn Callaghan was there. She could smell coffee brewing.

Jazz was up and dressed in what she was wearing under her wet suit. She had oatmeal cooked and the coffee was freshly ground and brewed waiting for Rocky.

Jazz was bubbly and excited to get into the water. Rocky was still brooding regarding the danger to the boy that night and possible danger to herself underwater today.

But, go underwater and find gold they did. The flooring of the sluice box on the dredge was covered in a thin layer of sparkling gold flakes. Rocky could not help but catch some of Jazz’ excitement surrounding the gold production of the day.

A few days before the accident, Rocky bought a locket to put gold flakes into. It looked like a clear marble, with gold flakes floating in water. She planned to give it to Jazz to commemorate her first day of gold mining. If they found a little nugget Rocky planned to give that to her, also.

When they were too tired to move another rock or swing the dredge hose again, they quit for the day. Rocky set Jazz up on the porch with the electric concentrator to run the black sand through and retrieve each of the tiny flakes and bits of gold.

Normally, Rocky panned out the big pieces of gold at the river's edge before she used the machine that was intended to collect bits and pieces the size of a pinhead or smaller.

She thought that Jazz would have more fun running everything through the machine. She also wanted Jazz in one spot while she tried to talk to Justin on the phone.

“You sure you don’t want me to cook dinner,” Jazz asked as she spooned another tablespoon of sand into the green revolving pan.

“No, I’ve got it covered, I knew we would be famished, I have stew all finished in the crock pot. I have to make the garlic butter for the bread and salad. Carry on there, Miss Miner Forty Niner,” Rocky called back from the kitchen putting a better face of her feelings than what was actually happening in her heart.

While Rocky was making the meal she balanced the phone with her chin, and tried calling Justin’s private number. No answer nor was the cell phone answering. Rocky did not want to call the Sheriff Department, it would take longer than she had to talk without risking that Jazz would overhear the conversation.

Rocky heard voices from the porch, she instantly had hopes that one of them was Justin’s, but then again if Justin was here in person, that may mean that the parents had signed a complaint. The screen door slammed hard. Jazz literally stomped into the kitchen.

“That jerk Callaghan is out there, I’ll take over the dinner,” Jazz had a very disgusted look on her face.

“What does he want?” Rocky asked while she peeked around the door frame so she could see out the front door screen.

“I didn’t hang around long enough to find out. I don’t like that guy Rocky. He gives me the creeps. He is bad news.” Jazz was pulling on the oven mitts like they were boxing gloves.

“Okay, slow things down a bit in here; I don’t want to feel like I have to invite him to dinner,” Rocky suggested.

“Yeah, good idea, get rid of him ASAP though please, I’m hungry,” Jazz requested in a whisper as they both peeped around the door frame.

That was when it happened. Rocky was framed in the doorway, wiping her wet hands on her Grandma’s quaint old fashioned blue flowered apron.

Callaghan was waiting at the bottom of the steps, petting Lovie. He looked up and saw her back lighted from the living room. Then he knew that what he was feeling with regard to Rocky Clancy was much, much more than a need to get her into bed.

“Hello, Callaghan,” Rocky said coming out into the porch light canceling the moment.

“Hi, Got Rocks, when I was here last time I saw you have the gold concentrator connected. I was wondering if I might use it a bit to see if I like it before I buy one,” Callaghan was trying on his charm.

“Yeah, sure, let me get this last bit of sand cleaned out,” Rocky said taking the pan that revolved off the machine and dumping from it the dregs of her black sand into a bucket.

“Is Jazz going to come back out here?” Callaghan asked peering around Rocky into the cabin.

“No, she is making garlic bread and I think she is calling home. Look if you came over here to hit on Jazz, just be upfront, go into the kitchen and hit on her,” Rocky said slightly exasperated at men falling apart around Jazz. Especially exasperated when Jazz didn’t like this man and Rocky wanted to eat dinner.

“I’m not here to hit on her, that is the last thing I want to do. God, the very last thing,” Callaghan was looking appalled in the dim porch light.

“Then why are you here? You only show up when Jazz is here,” Rocky asked the logical question.

“I came to use the concentrator; I didn’t even know that she was here until I came around the porch,” Callaghan was pleading stupidity, when he knew very well that Jazz was in Whiskey Gap.

“Yeah, right. There it is clean, ready to use. Do you know how it works?” Rocky asked.

“Yes, I saw it at the sports show in New York, and your Dad showed me this one when he bought it,” Callaghan stated as Rocky nodded her head and escaped into the kitchen.

Rocky was thinking about the puzzle of her Dad and Callaghan knowing each other when she came through the door.

Jazz hurriedly disconnected her phone when she heard Rocky come into the kitchen.

“Is he gone?”

“Not yet, but I’m not inviting him to dinner, even if we eat at midnight,” Rocky said.

“Good, he ruins my appetite anyway.”

Jazz was gripping the edge of the sink with so much force that her knuckles were white.

“He should be out of here in fifteen minutes if we don’t go outside and interrupt what he is doing,” Rocky speculated.

“What is he doing?”

Jazz was trying to see around the door frame.

“Look if you want to hit on him, why don’t you go out there and hit on him?” Rocky said trying to make the situation lighten up.

Jazz turned around from the door and gave her such a steely look, Rocky withered and slipped by her back to the porch.

She watched the man spooning the sand into the machine and mulled over Jazz’ reactions in the past twenty four hours. Was this volatile Jazz the real Jazz she was seeing?

Rocky thought, “I’m going to talk to Justin tonight, if I have to get in the truck and hunt him down on patrol.”

Callaghan held up a little vial full of gold. Smiling he said, “Not bad, not bad at all.”

Rocky commented, “That is what we did, too. It was a good day.”

“I like the gadget, I’m buying one, and maybe we could go to the gold show in Sacramento and pick one up,” Callaghan said around a grin. “Thanks for letting me try it out.”

He picked up his bucket and jumped down from the porch and moved around the cabin toward his place. She noticed that both dogs were cruising happily along with him.

“What is it with him, he’s even charming the darn dogs,” Rocky waited a moment for the dogs to return, then went inside to set up the delayed dinner.

Rocky felt the atmosphere was thicker than pudding, but Jazz did not seem to be disturbed now that Callaghan had left.

Everything was fine with Jasmine, like the most pressing thing in the venue was taking the garlic bread out of the oven at the precise moment of edge crispness.

Over the kitchen table, as they enjoyed the stew, Jazz told her.

“I talked to Dad, and I have to go home.”

“What, you just got here, we haven’t even started dredging hardly.”

“Dad said the new Moscow deal is unraveling right and left and center. He wants me on a plane tonight. He already has it on the way,” Jazz explained.

“Jazz, we have been on the go all day, aren’t you too tired to drive all the way to San Francisco tonight?” Rocky was starting to realize what was happening.

“Oh, Dad has the jet coming into Auburn, I’ve got a cab coming. It is imperative I be in Moscow tomorrow,” said Jazz.

“At least I think it will be tomorrow, any way it will be tomorrow here,” Jazz was on the move toward the guest room, leaving Rocky sitting at the kitchen table realizing that Jazz would be out of her cabin. She was guilty that she would feel relieved and out of danger.

She would have time to talk to Justin and time to decide how or if to continue her friendship with Jasmine Harris.

Faster than it took to say it, Jazz moved out of the guest room, had hugged Rocky and both the dogs, gave Thumper a tiny squeeze and kiss on the ear, and was gone in a flash of dust and a blinker light onto the county road.

Rocky stood on the darkened porch and dialed Justin on his cell. No answer again.

Later, Rocky heard a car pull up the driveway. She had a sinking feeling that Jazz had changed her plans and returned. She put on a robe, and went out to the porch.

Deputy Justin Dixon waved at her as he unfolded from the driver’s seat of the squad car.

“Hey Rocky, is Jasmine Harris here?” he said.

“Et tu? For God’s sake, take a number. She should bottle it, whatever it is?” the grumpy, tired Rocky replied to the total puzzlement of Justin.

“No, you missed your chance by a couple of hours. Is this a business call?”

“In a way it is. Rocky do you know who Jazz is?” Justin asked sitting down at the kitchen table in the same chair that Jazz sat in approximately two hours before.

“Yeah, she is the woman that I shared that stupid Lost Dutchman Mine fiasco with."

“Oh, I remember her all right but what do you know about her other than she is from Boston and rock climbs?” Justin was pouring milk into his coffee.

“She is in manufacturing, like that fire retardant. She is going back to Moscow, Russia tonight ‘cause a deal is going bad. She works for her family firm, she and her three brothers,” Rocky’s information dribbles off into nothingness while Justin watched her and listened. He was obviously making a decision.

“Justin, I had something I wanted to ask you and it does have something to do with Jazz,” Rocky proceeded to lay out the entire story of the mailboxes, the bridge, and dropping the boy into the river.

Justin took out his notebook and wrote. When Rocky finished Justin said, “This is the first I’ve heard about it. Rocky, I’m going to tell you.”

“Your friend Jazz is Jasmine Antonia Harris Cochetti. Jasmine and her brothers are the working heads of the Cochetti crime family. Daddy still is the Don, but Jasmine is groomed to take his place someday. Jasmine is the go to person; she is the fixer for the Don.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” she said.

“Okay, here it is blunt and nasty. Jazz is the enforcer, she makes everything work, the assassin for her Mafia family.” Justin continued as Rocky's face fell.

“Their specialty and they are extremely good at it, is weapons trafficking. Jazz is the biggest, baddest illegal gun dealer in the world,” Justin said.

“Oh my God, she could have killed that kid,” Rocky was appalled at the news.

“Without a second thought she could have,” Justin concurred. “Who do you think put the body onto the Rock out back. Actually, someone made mistake putting the body there,” he continued. “Jazz was royally pissed and she killed or had killed the guy who laid him out on your rock.”

“His body, they found outside of Boston,” Justin stated. “Remember that old man miner from the Lost Dutchman Mine trip in Arizona? Well, she broke each of the fingers on his right hand, after she tied him up in that cabin.”

“How do you know this stuff?” Rocky asked not wanting to believe and about to vomit with belief.

“The ATF has been here each time that Jazz shows up, and they have been watching you. They are wondering if you are Jazz’ new business partner. I keep telling them that they are wrong, but what do I know, I’m only the beat cop that has known you all your life?” Justin informed her.