The Deep End (A Saints & Strangers Cozy Mystery Book 2) (3 page)

“This place is too big for Jasmine,” Charlotte complained. “I mean, does she intend to invite all her former cheerleading buddies to live with her?”

“Well, her brother’s here now,” Rebecca said.

“I doubt he intends to move in, though,” Francie said. “You said he lives in Connecticut and he works in New York.”

“He works,” Charlotte repeated. “Now there’s a foreign concept to Jasmine.”

“How is it possible that someone as awful as Jasmine can have a brother as sweet as Jake?” Francie asked, gracefully knocking the ball across the net.

“You know as well as anyone how different siblings can be,” Charlotte said. Francie was the youngest of the Musgrove children and didn’t get along well with any of them. That was the main reason she’d started spending so much time with Charlotte when they were children.

“Well, I hope Jake stays for months on end,” Rebecca said, easily hitting the ball. “Anything to keep Jasmine from moving a parade of paramours into the house.”

Charlotte lunged for the ball and missed. “She’d better wait until we’re completely moved out or Daddy’s won’t be the only funeral this month.”

They abruptly stopped talking when they noticed Jake approaching, carrying an unwieldy tray of sparkling ciders. He looked remarkably handsome in his dark suit and Charlotte noticed Rebecca smile at the sight of him.

“I thought you ladies might be thirsty,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of raiding your refrigerator.”

“It’s more yours than ours now,” Charlotte said. “You’re welcome to it.”

“There are waiters here today,” Rebecca told him. “You should let them handle it, but thank you all the same.”

As Jake attempted to hand Rebecca her glass of cider, he clumsily toppled it onto her dress. Rebecca laughed good-naturedly at the stain, but he was clearly embarrassed. Charlotte could relate. She dropped drinks as often as she didn’t.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, fumbling to dab at her dress with his white shirt.

“That’s okay,” said Rebecca.

“You looked hot so I thought…I mean, you looked like you needed a cool drink.”

Rebecca smiled. “Thank you. That was thoughtful.”

“Would you like to play?” Francie called, interrupting his bumbling apology.

“No, thank you. I’m not much of a tennis player,” Jake replied.

“Well then, Charlotte is the perfect partner for you,” Francie teased.

“My sister is an excellent teacher,” Charlotte said. “Let her show you.”

Jake glanced nervously at Rebecca. “I wouldn’t mind learning a few moves. Tennis has always been on my list of games to learn.”

“Okay then,” Rebecca said brightly. “Step into my office.”

From her place on the patio, Jasmine sipped a martini, watching the tennis court with interest. Rebecca had her arms around Jake, showing him how to swing a racket. Her eyes narrowed as Rebecca and Jake laughed, clearly enjoying each other’s company. Jasmine grabbed a waiter by the arm, nearly toppling his tray of glasses.

“Another drink,” she demanded.

Jackson stopped the waiter before he could serve her again. “Thank you. She’s had enough.”

“What I do is not your concern,” she snapped and plucked another martini glass from the tray.

“You have matters to attend to,” Jackson pointed out. “It’s best to attend to them sober.”

“You’re all business all the time, aren’t you?” she slurred.

“And you are quite the opposite,” he remarked, removing the martini glass from her grip. “Be mindful of your guests. They’re here to honor John’s memory, not watch his widow make a fool of herself.”

With more skill than he thought she was capable of, she snatched the drink out of his hand and threw the liquid in his face. “Oh, no. You’re an absolute mess. I guess you’ll need to leave now so you can change. You wouldn’t want the fancy pants people of Westdale to mistake you for the town drunk.”

Jackson’s jaw clenched. “I’ll be back, Jasmine.”

“You’d better,” she called after him, laughing. “You’re holding the keys to my kingdom.”

Chapter Two

Kit helped Rebecca and Charlotte carry their boxes into her modest house on Thornhill Road. She’d only moved in to the house in August and was immediately sent packing when she discovered a skeleton beneath the floorboards. She was relieved to be fully unpacked now. With her belongings around her, the home finally felt like hers.

“Do you need an extra pair of hands?” an elderly voice asked.

Kit laughed at the sight of Phyllis Chilton sitting on her electric scooter on the sidewalk. Phyllis lived across the street and, although she could walk, she preferred the ease and comfort of her particular set of wheels, much to the chagrin of local drivers unlucky enough to get stuck behind her on the road.

“You’d need to actually use your limbs,” Kit remarked. “All of them.”

“Well, how about I just critique your progress then?” Phyllis suggested. “Oh look, here comes Thora. She can help you.”

Thora Breckenridge lived in the house next door to Kit. Kit doubted the octogenarian’s usefulness in an activity that required a bit of muscle. Despite an iron will, Thora was a petite, thin woman who looked like she’d break in half if the wind blew too hard.

“Have you brought more things from Los Angeles?” Thora asked, eyeing the boxes on the front lawn. “Maybe a replica of the Millennium Falcon? I’ve always wanted to see one in person.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Star Wars fan, Thora,” Kit said.

“That’s because you don’t know about the time I got stuck in an elevator with Harrison Ford,” she replied, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

Kit closed her eyes and tried to wrestle the image from her brain. “My friends are staying with me for a little while until they find a place to live.”

“You mean the Tilton sisters?” Phyllis whispered.

On cue, Charlotte and Rebecca emerged from the house, ready for another round of boxes.

“Oh, hello,” Charlotte said, taking notice of the neighbors.

“So sorry about your father,” Phyllis told them. “I played golf with John at the country club on occasion, when he was healthy and I was more mobile.”

“Yes, a golf cart is so different from the way you get around now,” Kit said.

Phyllis glowered at her. “I would have come to the funeral party, but I already had a colonoscopy scheduled. I figured that was a good way to honor his memory.”

“Welcome to the neighborhood, girls,” Thora said in her usual pleasant manner. “It’s a nice change to see multiple young people on the street.”

“Have you heard anything about the people who bought Peregrine’s house?” Kit asked. Peregrine Monroe had lived in the house on the other side of Kit’s until she moved to Sedona to live with her sister. Peregrine had been obsessed with a tidy house and yard and Kit hoped that the next owner would have a more relaxed attitude.

“Not yet, but my ears are open,” Phyllis said.

“Not as often as your mouth,” Thora chided her.

A phone rang and every woman there padded her body to locate her respective phone.

“It’s mine,” Rebecca declared, holding her phone aloft. “Hello?” She broke into a broad smile and moved into the house for privacy.

“Are your ears open now?” Kit asked Phyllis, nodding toward Rebecca’s secret caller.

“Don’t need to hear a word to know that it’s a man on the phone,” Phyllis replied.

Charlotte looked perplexed. “What man? She isn’t seeing anyone.”

The mystery was solved a moment later when Rebecca reappeared, her cheeks glowing. She seemed oblivious to the curious looks of the others as she hopped down to the lawn and lifted one of the boxes. She stopped short, finally noticing that they were all staring at her.

“What?” she asked, blinking.

“Who was on the phone?” Charlotte asked.

Rebecca’s cheeks colored. “It was just Jake calling to apologize for the cider incident.”

Kit and Charlotte exchanged knowing looks. “Didn’t he already apologize at the party?” Kit asked.

“He didn’t think that apology was sufficient.” Clutching the box, Rebecca bolted for the front door, but Charlotte stepped in front of her and blocked her path.

“Spill it,” she demanded, her hands on her hips.

Rebecca’s shoulders relaxed. “He wants to take me to dinner tonight.”

Charlotte clapped her hands together. “Are you serious? Jasmine will be livid when she finds out.”

Rebecca brushed past her with the box. “Annoying Jasmine is your favorite pastime, not mine.”

“Can he pick you up here?” Thora called after her. “We’d like to get a look at him.”

“Thora,” Kit scolded her.

Thora wore an innocent expression. “What? We don’t get many men coming to our quiet street. It’s been a banana bonanza since you moved in, though.”

Kit clamped her hands over her ears. If she never heard Thora utter the phrase ‘banana bonanza’ again, she’d die a happy woman.

Rebecca stood outside the door of the Moroccan restaurant as she waited for Jake. She didn’t want him to pick her up at Kit’s because of the prying eyes and she didn’t want to pick him up at Oak Lodge because of Jasmine. Meeting at the restaurant was the best compromise.

Jake arrived five minutes later and they entered the restaurant together. The interior was lush and deep with color. The tables were surrounded by oversized bright pink and burnt orange cushions. They were seated quickly and Rebecca took a moment to digest the heady atmosphere.

“Where did you find this place?” Rebecca asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Dare I admit that my sister suggested it?”

They breathed in the sweet air of the hookah and watched belly dancers perform.

“She probably thought I would hate it,” Rebecca said. “Just shows how little she knows me.” She bit her lip, not intending to insult Jasmine in front of her brother.

“She’s jealous of you, you know,” Jake said.

Rebecca’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Me? I doubt that very much.”

“It’s true. You’re a budding doctor. Your father adored you.”

“Father adored her, too.”

“The way one adores a playful kitten with her claws still intact,” Jake replied. “Would you like wine?”

“Only a little,” Rebecca said, offering her empty glass. “How long do you think you’ll stay with Jasmine?”

“Until I’ve worn out my welcome, I suppose.”

“Oh, I managed that before the house even belonged to her,” Rebecca joked.

“Where do you think you’ll go?” Jake asked.

“Well, I’m staying with Kit until I scrape enough money together to go back to medical school,” she said firmly. “As soon as I can get a loan approved, I’ll make the arrangements.”

“And where is medical school?” he inquired.

“Your neck of the woods, actually. Columbia University.”

He was clearly impressed. “Upper West Side?”

She nodded. “I sublet my apartment when I came back to Oak Lodge.” Her pleasant expression soured. “Now I won’t be able to afford to move back in.”

Jake didn’t respond. He had nothing to say on the subject that would ease her pain.

“So which part of the body fascinates you the most?” he asked and his face immediately turned a deep shade of red. “Medically speaking,” he added hastily.

“Definitely the brain,” she answered, biting back a smile. “My sister’s dyspraxia diagnosis sealed it for me years ago.”

Jake gnawed on a piece of chicken. “Jasmine mentioned that your sister is…a bit clumsy, but she didn’t really elaborate.”

“It’s the way her brain works. She struggles with coordination and movement and her working memory is impaired. It doesn’t impact her intelligence, but you’d never know it the way she was treated by some of her former teachers.”

“Ah, the role of protective sister.” He grinned at her. “What’s that like?”

Rebecca sipped her glass of water. “You have a sister. You tell me.”

“A sister, yes. Not a protective one, though. Jasmine was always too busy wreaking havoc to pay me any attention.”

The music kicked up a notch and another performance began. Jake leaned closer to be heard. “I can’t believe this place is housed in a strip mall.”

“All the hidden gems are,” Rebecca replied.

Jake gazed into her eyes. “Not all the hidden gems.”

Rebecca smiled shyly and glanced away. The dancers finished their performance and Rebecca joined enthusiastically in the applause. Jake followed suit.

“You don’t hold it against me that I’m Jasmine’s brother, do you?” he asked.

“Of course not. I can’t speak for Charlotte, though.”

“I’m more interested in your opinion,” he said pointedly.

“I think Jasmine might hold that against you.” Rebecca said as Jake’s attention was drawn to another table. “What are you staring at?”

Jake turned to her and whispered, “You need to see the man at the next table.”

Rebecca couldn’t see his face, but he seemed perfectly normal. “Is this the part where you tell me that he’s gorgeous and you’re gay?”

“No, not at all. But he does have the most womanly lips you’ve ever seen in your life. He makes Angelina Jolie look like” — He grasped at an analogy — “a woman with really, really thin lips.”

Rebecca looked again and got a full view of the man’s face. He truly did have fuller lips than Angelina Jolie. Rebecca bit her own moderately sized lip to avoid laughing at loud.

“So what was it like growing up with Jasmine? Somehow I don’t picture the two of you sharing jokes like this.”

“You mean what was
she
like.”

“I’m just curious about the forces of nature that have molded you and Jasmine into two such different people.”

“What about you and Charlotte?”

“We’re not so different, really. I’m the calmer, rational one, but she’s in no way my opposite. And we’re very close.”

“But you seem more mother hen close than sibling close,” Jake pointed out. “Not that it’s a lesser relationship. It’s just a different dynamic.”

Rebecca rested her chin on her hands. “I suppose it is. She has Francie for a sister substitute, so she’s not deprived.”

“To answer your question, Jasmine wasn’t so awful. Not really. I don’t dispute that she’s a bit money-obsessed, but, well, she’s still my sister.”