The Lake House Secret, A Romantic Suspense Novel (A Jenessa Jones Mystery) (4 page)

The school had stood in that spot since the nineteen forties. It was two stories of faded red brick with ornate detailing and beige stonework arching over the main entrance, and it sat perched atop several rows of stone steps. There were broad lawns out front, with tall evergreen trees, and in the center of the main walkway to the heavy wooden front doors there was a circular fountain, with thick masonry for seating.

Her family had moved to Hidden Valley at the beginning of her sophomore year, which felt like a lifetime ago now. Although she had noticed Logan not long after changing to her new school—he was hard to miss—they hadn’t begun dating until the fall of her junior year. He was a grade ahead of her in school and would be graduating, then heading off to college on a football scholarship.

She had been busy working on the school newspaper, realizing early on how much she enjoyed writing and pursuing a story. It was that year that she decided to major in journalism when she went to college.

In the spring, he asked her to the prom. It was like a fairytale. Her mother had taken her to the city a few weeks before the dance and they had shopped for just the right gown, a strapless number, pale pink and flowing. Mom had paid for Jenessa to have her hair done, swept up with curls cascading down the back and a few wispy tendrils falling loosely around her face. Logan showed up to her house, handsomely dressed in a black tuxedo and bow tie with a gorgeous corsage of deep pink roses for her wrist.

Her mother had the camera out and was all smiles as she excitedly insisted on several photos of the couple before she would let them leave. Jenessa remembered her father had stood in the background, watching quietly.

The memory dissolved as she reached her old home and pulled into the driveway. The house was English Tudor style and had been built not long after the high school. Before her parents acquired it, the previous owners had done a total updating of the kitchen and bathrooms, even going as far as having all of the hardwood floors beautifully refinished.

She recalled the day they’d moved in, her father smugly commenting that it was a fitting home for a successful attorney. That phrase always stuck with her—
a fitting home
.

After turning her key in the lock, she pushed the quaint arched-top door open. It was midsummer, so the sun would not be setting for another hour or so and she was glad for the light that streamed in the windows, not to mention thankful the air conditioning was on.

Jenessa dragged her suitcase and carry-on bag up the stairs to her old bedroom. It was just the way she had left it the last time she was there, except for the layer of dust. When her mother was alive, she dusted and vacuumed and put fresh sheets on the bed when her daughter was coming home for a visit. It was clear no one had set foot in this room since her death.

After retrieving a clean set of sheets from the hall linen closet, Jenessa set about making up the bed. As for the dusting and vacuuming, she decided she’d leave them for the morning. She was anxious to get to her father’s office downstairs and start going through his papers. The thought of it brought a surprising rush of tears.

She slunk down onto her bed and wiped them away with her fingers. Her dad was gone. The finality of it saddened her. There would be no more confrontations, no more cold shoulders, and no more chances to make amends.

The sun had almost set by the time she came downstairs. She flicked on a few lights as she meandered through the house, coming to rest at her father’s large antique desk. An eerie sensation rippled over her, like she was sitting there without his permission and somehow he would know.

Jenessa shuddered and shook off the feeling. She pulled out one of the deep side drawers and rummaged through it, peering into the folders and hanging files. Then she searched the second drawer. Nothing of value there.

She tugged on the center lap drawer, but it was locked. She glanced around. Where was the key?

It hadn’t occurred to her before, but she wondered now where his personal effects were—his clothes, his wallet, his keys. Was his car still parked in the lot next to his law office?

She made a notation on a yellow sticky note to find out about these things first thing in the morning. Perhaps Aunt Renee had recovered them when she went down to the coroner’s office.

There were several small, framed photos set on the corner of his desk. One had the entire family, before they’d relocated to Hidden Valley. The other two were individual school pictures of her and her sister after their move. She was a little surprised to see her picture there among the others. Had he really wanted to see her face every day?

She half-expected to see Ramey’s photo on his desk as well, but no.

Next, she turned her attention to the four-drawer file cabinet that sat in the corner, to the right of the large window that held a view of the manicured backyard. She painstakingly went through the top two drawers, file by file, page by page, but no luck.

It was getting late and she was ready to turn in for the night. Exhausted, Jenessa dropped down into her father’s executive chair again and her gaze floated around the room. She leaned back against the black leather and picked up the faint scent of his aftershave. Then, she ran her hands over his leather desk blotter. He had spent so many hours in this room and she sensed his presence.

Tears moistened her eyes once more, then trickled down her cheeks. She would never see his face again, or have the opportunity to make right what had gone so terribly wrong. With her head in her hands she sat in his office and sobbed.

When no more tears came, she flicked the desk lamp off and walked out. After turning off all the lights in the house, except in the central hallway, she slowly climbed the stairs to her room. Tomorrow she would tackle the other two drawers in the office, but first she had to apply for the reporter job and check on her father’s personal effects.

After stripping out of her clothes and tugging a short nightgown over her head, she pulled off her watch and gold hoop earrings, opening the top drawer of her dresser to store them. Something scraped along the drawer as she opened it.

That’s odd.
Sticking her hand into the far back and upper part of the drawer, her fingers touched what felt like a stiff piece of paper. She worked it loose, trying not to rip it, and pulled it out.

A knot grew in her throat as she turned it over and saw what it was. She could hardly swallow. The hidden paper was a picture of her and Logan on prom night, one of the photos her mother had taken. She thought she had destroyed those photos, along with anything else that reminded her of him.

How long had that picture been wedged at the back of that drawer? She threw the photo back in the drawer and slammed it shut. She should have thrown it in the trash, but it had survived this many years, one more day wouldn’t matter.

She pulled the covers back, clicked off the lamp, and climbed in bed. Exhaling a long breath, she laid back against her pillow. Closing her eyes, she hoped for sleep.

Why did she have to find that photo of Logan right before she went to bed? All it did was get her blood boiling. She pulled the blankets over her head and let out a long, loud sigh.

She had tried for the last twelve years to forget that pompous, self-centered, sorry-excuse-for-a-man. Now, she would probably dream about him.

Chapter 5

The bright morning sun streaming in through the bedroom window woke Jenessa with a start as she opened her eyes and got her bearings. She rolled over and looked at the clock, deciding she’d better get up. She could hear her father’s voice in her head, telling her there was too much to do to laze around after seven o’clock.

She had been right last night. Seeing the old prom photo of her and Logan had caused her to toss and turn for hours, replaying in her mind the good times, and the bad. True to life, her dreams of Logan had always ended with the bad.

Sliding her legs over the side of the bed, she stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. Still groggy and bleary-eyed, Jenessa managed to make herself a pot of coffee. She would need it to look alert when she approached the managing editor of the town’s newspaper.

Rather than call him, because it would be too easy for him to brush her off, she decided she’d show up in person, a friendly smile on her face and her resume in her hand. She would sell him on her virtues and why they needed to hire her.

Once she got her first cup of the day, she wandered into her father’s office. She paused again at the photos. Had he really wanted her picture on his desk, or had her mother framed all the photos and stuck them in an orderly fashion, facing him from the corner of his desk, trying to remind him he had
two
daughters? She guessed it was more likely the latter.

There were two file drawers still to go through in the hopes of discovering his burial wishes. They needed to find out soon because the coroner’s office would want to know where to send the body, and then there were arrangements to be made. It wasn’t like when her mother died. Her mother had made it clear to her husband and her daughters what she wanted when she died—to be buried in the town cemetery under a big elm tree that would give shade to her family when they came to visit her.

Midway through her task, at quarter to eight, Jenessa received a call from her aunt.

“Any luck?” Aunt Renee asked.

“Not yet. I’ve still got one more drawer to go through. Then there’s the lap drawer. It’s locked and I don’t know where the key is. Do you?”

“No, haven’t a clue, hon.”

“Sorry, Aunt Renee, but I may have to bust into it.”

“Oh, sweet girl, no! That desk is an antique. Why don’t we check with your dad’s attorney? I’m certain he had someone draw up his Will.”

“I haven’t found anything yet, but knowing my father, I’m sure he would have too. Probably one of the lawyers in his firm.”

“Do you want me to call and talk to his secretary?” Aunt Renee offered. “She probably knows.”

“I’m headed down to the newspaper later this morning to apply for that job. Why don’t I drop by the office and see what I can dig up in person.”

“All right, hon. Come by after you’re done. Sara and I will be here. We’ll want to hear all about your interview.”

“Where’s Ramey?”

“She’s gone, down to The Sweet Spot. She’s always there before five, baking and opening up the shop. Sara’s not going in today, though. She’s staying here with me.”

Stopping at The Sweet Spot to see Ramey sounded good, not to mention a delicious cup of coffee and a fresh cinnamon roll. “I’ve got to go and get ready. I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”

~*~

After slipping into a black pencil skirt and white silk top, Jenessa headed down to The Sweet Spot. Her mouth watered just thinking about Ramey’s decadent cinnamon rolls.

She found a place to park near the café and breezed through the door. An older woman, with her dark hair pulled back into a bun, stood behind the counter with Ramey, waiting on several customers.

When Ramey caught sight of Jenessa, she smiled broadly and her eyes lit up. “Hey, you!” Her face reflected the joy at seeing her old friend again. “Be with you in a sec.”

Jenessa took her place in line and waited her turn, watching as the two women expertly served their customers.

“I’m glad you stopped in. What can I get for you?” Ramey asked when Jenessa got to the front of the line.

“Busy place.” Jenessa glanced around the small shop.

“Yes, it is—thankfully.”

“Can I get a mocha-cappuccino and a cinnamon roll?”

“Absolutely.” Ramey leaned forward and lowered her voice. “If you can wait for a bit, the crowd’ll die down and we can talk.”

“Sure, I’ll grab a table if there’s one free.”

Ramey gestured to the right. “Over in the corner. Grab it and I’ll bring your order out.” Then her gaze went to the next person in line. “Good morning, Officer.”

Officer?
Jenessa whirled around with a smile, wondering if Ramey was greeting their old friend, Michael. Hope dissolved when she saw it was a middle-aged uniformed patrolman she didn’t recognize. He met her gaze and her cheeks warmed. “I’ll just go sit down now.”

As she stepped away, Michael walked through the door. “Jenessa?”

“Michael.” Before she could help it, a grin spread across her face. “Nice to see you again. I was just about to grab a table. Would you like to join me?”

“Can’t. My partner and I are only here to pick up some coffee and—”

“Donuts?” She chuckled, arching a brow at him.

“Stereotyping us cops?” He grinned back at her. “Actually, coffee and a breakfast cookie.”

“Uh-huh.” She wasn’t convinced.

“They’re amazing—healthy too. You should try one.”

“I know. My mom used to make them for us when we were growing up.”

“Oh, I forgot.” He looked a little embarrassed. “Your mom used to run this place.”

She nodded. “She and Ramey.”

“By the way,” he began, “I wanted to offer my condolences again. Your father was a good man.”

“Thank you. Yes he was.”

“After the funeral and all,” Michael continued, “if you’re sticking around town for a while, why don’t we get together? Have dinner or something. I’d love to catch up.”

“Hey, Baxter!” his partner called from the doorway.

Michael’s gaze shifted to the other officer.

“I’ve got the stuff,” his partner said. “Now, we’ve got to get going.”

Michael looked back at Jenessa and raised his eyebrows, apparently waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, sure. I’d like that,” she said. “Give me a call.”

He smiled and gave a casual wave as he strolled out the door.

Through the window, she watched her old friend and his partner climb into their cruiser.
Shoot, I never gave him my phone number!

“Oh well.” Jenessa shrugged, hoping to run into him again as she watched as them drive away. She took a seat at the small table in the corner and waited for Ramey.

“Here we are.” Ramey set the coffee and cinnamon roll down in front of her, then sank down on the chair opposite Jenessa. “Did you talk to Aunt Renee this morning?”