The Lake House Secret, A Romantic Suspense Novel (A Jenessa Jones Mystery) (11 page)

A partial loaf of bread on the counter caught her attention. If it didn’t have mold on it, she’d settle for a piece of toast with strawberry jam.

As the toast was browning, she leaned against the counter and thought of Michael, remembering their lunch together and wondering how his board review was going this morning. She had forgotten to ask him if he knew any small-time criminals who could pick the lock on her father’s desk.

She was tempted to phone him right then, but no, she should leave him alone on this important day. Maybe she’d call him tonight and ask how the review went before diving into the subject of someone to pick the lock. Until then, she would eat her toast and begin the long process of going through the kitchen drawers, as well as the dressers and the closet in the master bedroom.

She began looking through her father’s closet first. His highly polished dress shoes were precisely stationed on the lower cedar shelves, and his sweaters were neatly folded and stacked on the upper ones. The aroma of his aftershave still clung to them, and to his business suits.

Jenessa pulled one of his sweaters off the shelf and brought it to her face. She breathed in his scent, and a rush of tears made the loss of her father become real. Overwhelmed, she slumped down on the padded bench in the center of the closet and cried. Perhaps she should wait and finish this task when her sister and Ramey could come and help her.

~*~

Around noon, Jenessa made a quick trip to the corner market—an interesting adventure in itself. Several people at the little store recognized her and offered her their condolences before launching into questions about why she’d been away so long and what had she been doing in Sacramento.

“Dear girl, what are you going to do with yourself, now that you’re back in Hidden Valley?” the elderly female store clerk asked.

Jenessa had known the woman since they moved into town, years ago. She shrugged and kept her gaze on her few grocery items.

“Do you have a young man waiting for you back in Sacramento?” the clerk asked as she bagged the milk and bananas.

Uncomfortable with all the probing questions, Jenessa paid the woman and beat a hasty retreat. “Thanks, Madge.” She waved a hand in the air as she dashed out the door.

As she was sticking the carton in the refrigerator, the tone on her laptop pinged that she had a new email. Just as Jack Linear’s cousin had promised, she emailed a picture of the locket, remarkably sharp and clear, laid open on a desk, exposing the photo of the young redheaded girl inside. The child looked happy, with a big grin spread across her face, and bright smiling eyes.

Would Aunt Renee possibly recognize the child? Her aunt had lived in Hidden Valley for about thirty years, so it was a real possibility. Jenessa certainly hoped so, for learning the little girl’s identity could shed some light on who the dead woman was.

Jenessa had planned to head over to her aunt’s house later in the afternoon to help choose some pictures of her dad to display in the foyer of the church before the funeral. As she glanced at the framed photos arranged on the walls of the main hallway of her own home, she pulled a few good ones down to take with her.

Then, when she pulled into her aunt’s long driveway, she noticed her old Toyota still sitting there where she had left it a couple of days earlier. It was surprising that her aunt hadn’t asked her to remove it.

With more important things on her mind, Jenessa opened her trunk and lifted out the box of photos, with her laptop sitting on top. She strode up the walkway and into the house.

After greeting Aunt Renee in the breakfast nook and going through the obligatory small talk, Jenessa set her laptop down and turned it on. She showed her aunt the photo of the child as it filled the screen, then launched into the question that was forefront in her mind.

Aunt Renee’s eyes grew big and her hand flew to her chest. “Why, I think that’s Ramey.”

Chapter 15

“Are you sure it’s Ramey?” Jenessa’s gaze jumped between her aunt and the screen. Could it be that simple?

“Yes, I’m pretty sure. Ask her yourself, if you don’t believe me.”

“You know what this means, don’t you?”

A puzzled expression swept over Aunt Renee’s face. “No, I don’t understand. Where did you get that picture?”

“This locket was found with the remains up at the lake.”

“You mean the decaying body you wrote that article about?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. So, this means the dead woman was Ramey’s mother.”

“Lucy? Oh, dear. Are you certain?”

Jenessa shrugged. “Who else would have Ramey’s photo in her locket?”

“True.” Aunt Renee nodded, her expression turning serious. “How do we break it to her?”

“We don’t.”

“What? Why not?”

“At least not yet. Not until we have confirmation from the crime lab.”

“Of course, that would be best. It just wouldn’t do to tell the girl her mother is dead if you’re wrong about all this,” Aunt Renee reasoned.

“But if it is Lucy, this means Ramey’s mother didn’t abandon her for all these years,” Jenessa said. “She hasn’t come back because she was dead. Maybe I should at least prepare her for the possibility.”

“Jenessa Jones, you’ll do no such thing.” Her aunt put a firm hand on Jenessa’s arm, a gesture insisting that she stop. “The woman has been dead for ten or twelve years you said. Another few hours or days won’t change anything.”

“But I’ve got to let the detective know what I suspect,” Jenessa’s words tumbled out, “and I’ve got to get a story written by deadline if I want it in tomorrow’s paper. And—”

“Slow down, dear. The article can wait a day or two. You don’t even have confirmation yet.”

“I know, but I’ve got to—”

“No.” The woman was adamant. “Tomorrow is the funeral, Jenessa. We need to take that day to honor your dad, my brother. If you put the article out there tomorrow, the town would be all abuzz about your story,” Aunt Renee’s hand fluttered through the air with a flourish, “gossiping about the disreputable murder victim. Let them have their gossip another day—just not tomorrow.”

“What about the cops? I have to let Detective Provenza know right away. Otherwise, I’ll be withholding evidence in a murder investigation.”

“My dear, the detective can certainly wait a few hours to be notified. It’s not like Lucy just died and the trail of the killer might grow cold—that is, if it is Lucy.”

Jenessa sank down on a kitchen chair and dropped her purse on the table, rolling her eyes like a teenager. “I forgot what a small town this is.” She shook her head. “All right, I’ll wait until this evening to call the detective, assuming the old guy hasn’t taken his teeth out and gone to bed yet.”

“And I had forgotten what a smart mouth you can be, missy,” Aunt Renee retorted, raising her eyebrows and wagging her finger at her niece, looking none too pleased.

“Sorry.” Jenessa grimaced and shrugged her shoulders.

“All is forgiven. Now help me select the best photos of your father for the service.”

~*~

It was nearly six o’clock when Ramey and Sara arrived at Aunt Renee’s for supper, after closing The Sweet Spot. It was a scorching July day and a cool crisp salad with sliced grilled chicken on top sounded heavenly.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Jenessa called to them as they stepped into the great room area, Sara giving Aunt Renee a quick peck on the cheek.

“Great, I’m starved,” Ramey said, plopping her purse on the counter and pulling up a stool. “It looks delicious.”

Aunt Renee and Sara moved toward the counter too and watched as Jenessa put the finishing touches on the individual salads.

“If someone will pour drinks, I think we’re ready to eat.” Jenessa picked up a couple of the salads and carried them to the table. “Sara, can you grab the other two plates?”

“Don’t be so bossy,” Sara replied.

Something prickled down Jenessa’s neck. Couldn’t they have a nice supper without an argument? “Sara, can you
pu-leeze
grab the other two plates for me? Is that better?”

“
Humph
,” was all Sara replied before picking up the dishes and taking them to the table.

Before long, they were all seated around the casual dining table, enjoying the cool and tasty meal. Conversation was light, but Jenessa kept making eye contact with her aunt, hoping for a signal that it was time to broach the subject of finding Ramey’s mother.

“Charles was in this morning for his usual coffee and energy bar.” Ramey poured a little dressing on her salad. “He mentioned how pleased he was with your work.”

“Charles?” Jenessa asked. “You mean Charles McAllister?”

“Of course, silly. Who else would I mean?” Ramey chuckled. “He thanked me for sending you to him. He’s such a nice man, don’t you think, Jenessa?”

“Sure, I suppose.”

“Handsome too.” Ramey added. “Isn’t he?” She glanced around the table, as if she was hoping for everyone’s agreement.

“Oh yes, dear, I couldn’t agree more.” Aunt Renee patted Ramey on the hand. “He’s a very nice man, and not at all bad to look at. And single, you know.”

Was Aunt Renee trying to set Ramey up with Charles McAllister? He was almost ten years older than her. Although, Ramey did appear open to the possibility.

“Isn’t Charles married?” Jenessa asked, remembering him mentioning that he had a son.

“No,” Ramey replied. “His wife died of breast cancer about three years ago.”

“Yes, that’s right. Such a shame,” Aunt Renee added. “Calista was a sweet woman.”

“And Charlie is the cutest little boy,” Ramey remarked.

“Not so little anymore,” Sara chimed in. “He’s about ten or twelve, isn’t he?”

“That’s right,” Ramey said. “I seem to remember Charles ordering a cake for Charlie’s birthday a few months back, but I don’t recall which one.”

Did Charlie have his father’s thick brown hair and hazel eyes, or did he take after his mother? A heaviness settled in her chest as she thought how Charlie was about the same age as the son she had given up, wondering again if her own little boy would look like Logan.

“I wish I had known my dad,” Ramey said with an edge of sadness in her voice. “When I was a kid, I used to imagine him coming for me one day.” Ramey peered down at her plate as she pushed the last piece of lettuce around on it. “In my dreams he’d take me to live with him in a beautiful castle and he’d buy me presents and throw big birthday parties for me.”

The other three shot each other uncomfortable stares, not sure how to respond to that.

“Funny what kids wish for,” Ramey said, finally looking up.

Sara ventured a comment first. “Maybe your mom was trying to protect you from your father. What if he wasn’t the great guy you hoped he was?”

“He couldn’t have been any worse than my mother was,” Ramey retorted. “Or any of the boyfriends she brought around.”

Jenessa put her hand on Ramey’s as it rested on the table. “You never know.” She raised her eyes to Aunt Renee, wondering if now was the time to tell Ramey about her mother.

Renee gave her a slight shake of her head, meaning now was not the right time.

~*~

As Jenessa drove back to her house that evening, she called Detective Provenza to fill him in on her discovery.

“Hello,” the detective answered, sounding like Jenessa had awakened him.

“I know it’s late and I’m sorry, but I thought you’d like to know—”

“Who is this?” he demanded.

“Oh, sorry, Detective, this is Jenessa Jones, from the Hidden Valley Herald. I have something I thought you would want to know.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?” From the sound of his voice, he wasn’t convinced she needed to be bothering him at home.

“I believe I’ve discovered who the remains belong to.”

“If the crime scene investigators haven’t determined it yet, how the hell do you know who it was?” he growled.

“I believe the victim’s name was Lucy St. John. She was Ramey St. John’s mother. You know Ramey, don’t you?”

“The young redhead that runs that coffee shop on Main Street?”

“Yes, The Sweet Spot.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. But what makes you think the bones belong to her mother?”

“Wasn’t there a locket found with the body?”

“Yeah, but how’d you know that?”

“I saw it. I was at the crime scene, remember?”

“I remember, pain in my—”

“The locket had a picture inside. I have reason to believe the picture was of Ramey when she was a little girl.”

“How the heck do you know that?”

“You know I can’t reveal my sources, George.”

“That’s Detective to you, Miss Jones.”

“Check it out, Detective.” Jenessa paused, but he was not quick to reply. “Like I told you before, if we work together, we can solve this case faster, and you come out looking like the town hero.”

“Yeah, I remember you saying that, but I’m not sure I buy it. I’ll solve this case with good ol’ fashioned police work.”

“Of course you will, George, but having a little help can’t hurt. I just want to be the first one to break the story when we discover who murdered her.”

“You got anything else or can I get back to sleep?” he grumbled.

“Sweet dreams, Detective.”

~*~

Friday came and the church was filled with well-wishers by the time the family had been ushered in. Jenessa swore she felt the people’s stares burning holes in her back. The townspeople had come to love her mother and her sister, and they respected her father and her aunt.

But Jenessa? She could only assume they saw her as the black sheep of the family, the one who had run off to God-knows-where.
Keep walking.
She tried to shrug off the feeling. The truth was that it was more likely that none of these people even knew who she was.

A middle-aged woman seated at the glossy, black grand piano began to play softly, and a finely-finished mahogany casket was already displayed at the front of the church. The lid was closed, thank goodness, but Jenessa knew it would be opened soon and she would have to look at the ghastly pale version of her father.

Walking with her family to the front, she recognized a few other people as her gaze wandered back and forth—the mayor, her father’s partner, Grey Alexander and his wife, and Logan. Her eyes shifted to the front when she spotted him.