The Lake House Secret, A Romantic Suspense Novel (A Jenessa Jones Mystery) (9 page)

“Be right back,” she told the others.

After changing out of her bikini and back into her clothes, Jenessa reappeared on the patio. Ramey and Sara had climbed out of the pool as well and were drying off. Jenessa said her good-byes to them, bent down and kissed her aunt on the cheek, and wished them all a good night.

“I’ll see you two for breakfast,” Jenessa said, pointing at her sister and Ramey, knowing at least one of them would be at The Sweet Spot bright and early. “Save a cinnamon roll for me.”

“Take care of that car,” Sara ordered.

Jenessa stuck her hand in the air and gave them a casual wave as she walked out the side gate.

Driving the Roadster home was a pleasure. She rolled the windows down, enjoying the pleasant night breeze flowing through her hair. Sleek and powerful, responding to her slightest movement, the car felt like it was made for her. With little objection from her family, she decided she’d consider this baby hers, at least for now.

Once she got home and was alone in her room, she thought back over the day—especially the drive out to the lake. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea. It had dredged up old memories she had worked so hard to push down. If only she could avoid the lake, but with the story she was investigating, that was simply not possible.

She pulled the top dresser drawer open to grab her pajamas, and there was that stinking prom photo she had shoved in there the night before, a symbol of her misbegotten romance with Logan, the beginning of the end of life as she knew it. She picked up the distressing photo and ripped it in half, then tossed it into the waste basket next to the dresser.

There would be no dreaming of what might have been between them. There was only the stark reality of what was. Her father’s sudden death was ironically giving her a second chance at a happy life, and she wasn’t going to screw it up again by fantasizing about Logan Alexander.

Now, Michael Baxter was another story. Surprised by what Ramey had said about him, it piqued her interest to know more.

Maybe it was time Jenessa took him up on his offer to have dinner together.

~*~

The next morning, Jenessa woke to the sound of her phone ringing on the nightstand. She rolled over and checked the clock sitting beside it. It read seven thirty-five.

“Hello,” she answered groggily.

“Jenessa? Jenessa Jones?” a man’s voice asked.

“Yes.”

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

She drew in a deep breath and tried to force her eyes to stay open. “First conversation of the day,” she grumbled. “Who is this?”

“This is Charles.”

“Charles?”

“Yes, McAllister. Are you sure I didn’t wake you?”

“No, not at all.” She rolled over on her side.

“I wanted to let you know we got the obit you emailed to us last night. It’ll be in tomorrow’s paper.”

“Thank you.”

“I see the funeral is Friday morning.”

“Yes, that’s right.” She pulled herself up into a sitting position and pushed her mop of hair off her face.

“This might be kind of tacky, and please tell me if you don’t want to do it, but would you mind doing a short story on your dad and the funeral? We’re a bit short-handed, as you know, and your father was pretty well-known in the community. You’ll already be there and—”

“Sure, I’d be happy to,” she replied flatly. She covered her mouth as she yawned. What else could she say? This man had been kind enough to hire her. And he was right—she would already be there. “Anything else?”

“We got your story out in this morning’s paper, and I’m already getting buzz about it.”

“What kind of buzz?”

“Phone calls, emails, people talking about the story at The Sweet Spot this morning when I stopped in for my morning coffee—you know,
buzz
.”

~*~

By the time Jenessa made it down to The Sweet Spot, the early morning crowd had thinned out. She zipped the sports car into a diagonal space right in front of the shop. Her stomach growled at the thought of the waiting cinnamon roll.

She reached for the café’s door handle at the same time another hand gripped it. Surprised, she looked up. The hand belonged to Logan.

Chapter 12

“Good morning, Jenessa.” Logan smiled at her, a twinkle in his deep blue eyes.

She snapped her hand back like she had been bitten by a snake. Why did he have to be at The Sweet Spot at the exact same time as she was?

He was handsome in his light stone Dockers and polo shirt, an azure blue, like the color of the sea surrounding the Greek Islands. She’d heard he was working at his father’s real estate company, and she supposed this was the summer attire for a successful Realtor.

“Morning.” She didn’t care how good he looked, she was determined to keep her guard up around him.

He pulled the door open and gestured for her to go in. “You first.”

She sauntered past him, afraid he’d be standing behind her to get his coffee. So rather than taking her place in line, she went to the bakery case and looked over the cookies, cakes, and other delectables sitting inside it, pretending to be trying to make up her mind.

“Large coffee, two creams, two sugars,” he said to the older woman behind the counter.

She felt the heat of his eyes on her. Or was it her imagination?

“Jenessa, would you like anything? My treat,” he offered.

Apparently, it wasn’t her imagination. She kept her eyes glued to the goodies in front of her. Those mesmerizing blue eyes were not going to draw her in. “No, I’m waiting for Ramey—but thanks.”

“That’ll be four dollars and thirty-one cents,” the clerk said.

He handed her some cash. “How long are you in town for?”

She did not answer.

“Jenessa?” he asked.

“Oh, sorry. Were you talking to me?” She forced herself to look in his general direction, willing herself to avoid his captivating smile.

“Yes, I was.”

“Awhile.” Then she looked at the woman behind the counter. “Rosie, do think Ramey will be much longer?”

“After I get this gentleman his coffee, I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Logan held his tongue until the woman handed him his cup of coffee and disappeared into the back room. “Listen, I can see you don’t want to talk to me, but come on. It’s been twelve years. We’ve both grown up. We’re not the kids we were back then.”

He paused and she assumed he was waiting for a response, but she gave him none.

“I heard you’re staying in town and you took a job at the paper.”

Her head spun in his direction and her eyes narrowed. “How did you know that?”

“My father owns the paper, remember?” Logan raised his brows at her for a moment, then the corners of his lips curved up into a mischievous smile. “Besides, in this town, everyone knows everyone else’s business. There’s nothing that old bitty Alice likes better than spreading news.”

“Then why did you ask me how long I would be in town?”

“I wanted to give you the opportunity to tell me yourself.”

She wanted to tear her eyes away but was struggling to do so.
Why did he have to grow into such a good-looking man?
His blond waves were beckoning to her, but she would not be drawn into his web again. “Well, now you know.” Her cheeks grew hot as her gaze returned to the bakery case.

“Let me take you to lunch this afternoon. We can catch up.”

“Sorry, she’s having lunch with me,” Ramey said, arriving just in time to save her from herself.

“Yes,” Jenessa said, not looking up, “sorry.”

“Another time, then.” He took his coffee and walked out.

“Thanks for rescuing me,” Jenessa said with a weak smile.

“Any time. Here’s your cinnamon roll.” She handed it over the counter on a small plate, covered with plastic wrap. “I had to stick it in the back or there wouldn’t have been any left for you. Go sit down and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee.”

Jenessa took her roll and grabbed a table by the window.

The bells jingled as the door opened again and the sweet sound of a child’s laughter preceded the two coming in. “Jake,” Ramey called out. “What an awesome surprise!”

Michael was right behind the boy. “We just came from the doctor’s office, and I promised Jake one of your famous chocolate cupcakes afterward.”

“Oh no. What’s wrong?” Ramey asked, looking sincerely worried.

“Nothing bad, just a checkup before school starts,” Michael explained and Ramey’s expression relaxed.

“I’m going to be in kindergarten,” Jake added.

“Good morning, Michael,” Jenessa said from where she was seated, not far from him. She rose and strolled over. “Who is this handsome fellow?”

“This is my son, Jake.” Michael smiled proudly. “Jake, this is Jenessa Jones. She’s an old friend of mine from high school. Can you shake her hand?”

The boy stuck out his little hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said stiffly, as if he’d been practicing.

She took his hand and shook it, surprised by the firm grip for such a little guy.

He looked up at his father. “She doesn’t look that old, Dad.”

Michael covered his mouth to stifle a laugh and dropped down to one knee beside the boy. Jenessa and Ramey looked away to cover their giggles.

“Old friend as in we were friends a long time ago,” Michael explained.

“Oh,” Jake replied, not at all embarrassed by the gaff.

Ramey quickly grabbed a chocolate cupcake out of the case and handed it over the counter. “Here you go, Jake.”

A devilish grin spread across the boy’s face as he took the cupcake. His eyes grew wide with anticipation as he opened his mouth to take a bite.

“What do you say?” his dad asked.

Jake managed to squeak out a “thank you” before chomping into the frosted treat.

He looked just like his dad. Had her own son grown up to look like Logan?

“Can I get a couple of napkins, Ramey?” Michael asked.

She grabbed a few and held them out.

“Thanks.” He took them just in time, for the boy had already devoured the cupcake and wore almost half the frosting on his face and he was wiping the icing from his hand onto his shirt.

Michael patiently cleaned the chocolate from around the little boy’s mouth and cheeks as he squirmed a bit.

“You look like you enjoyed that cupcake, Jake,” Jenessa said.

He nodded enthusiastically.

Michael stood, taking Jake’s hand. “I’d better get him home and out of these clothes.” He paused and looked over at Jenessa. “Today’s my day off. How about we have lunch together and do some catching up?”

“Jake, too?” she asked.

“No, just us. My mom can watch him.” Michael ruffled his fingers through Jake’s hair.

A little sting of disappointment took her by surprise. “All right.”

“Let’s say Antonio’s, at noon,” he suggested.

“Sounds nice.”

~*~

After breakfast, Jenessa went home to do more research on her story of the gruesome discovery near Jonas Lake. She poured through public records and found who had owned the property prior to the new owners, all the way back twenty years. Without knowing exactly how long ago the woman had been buried there, she needed to cover all her bases.

The Alexanders had owned their lake house for over twenty years—that much she knew—but she needed to discover the identity of the other property owners in the vicinity, going way back, so she kept digging.

She phoned Detective Provenza and asked if he had researched old missing persons reports in the area. He said he had, anyone that had been reported missing from five to twenty-five years ago, female, matching the height and relative age of the victim, but none of them fit her description.

“So you have those details—the height and approximate age of the woman?” she asked. “Would you mind sharing?”

“I don’t think I’d better. You’re not law enforcement.”

“That’s true, but I am on your side. If I can help you figure out who this woman was, then you have a better shot at solving this case. Don’t you agree?”

“Or a better shot of getting my butt in a ringer.”

She chose to ignore that last comment. Instead, she pressed on. “Don’t shut me out, Detective, use me. Then, when we find her killer, you’ll be the town’s hero.”

The line was silent for a moment as he seemed to be mulling over his decision. “The town’s hero, you say.” He huffed. “Oh, all right.” His voice lowered and it sounded as if he was cupping his hand around the phone. “She was five-five to five-seven and roughly in her mid-thirties to early forties, but you didn’t hear that from me. That’s all I can give you.”

“I noticed there was something that looked like a necklace in one of the photos I took.”

“You took photos?” He sounded angry. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you stay at the scene.”

“In the end, you’ll be glad you did.” Or at least she hoped he would be. “Getting back to the photo, there was something that looked like a necklace maybe. Do you have any idea what that was?”

“I’ve already said too much.” He hung up.

She got the uneasy feeling that he was hiding something—but what?

Chapter 13

Noon rolled around and she pulled up in front of Antonio’s Italian Ristorante, just a few blocks from The Sweet Spot Café. She recalled having gone there a few times as a teenager—one of those times was on a date with Logan.

When she walked into the quaint restaurant, Michael was already seated at a table in the middle of the room, dressed in a button-down shirt with a tiny blue-and-white check pattern, and his sleeves were rolled up at the cuffs. Each of the tables in the restaurant were covered with a red-and-white checkered tablecloth and an old dripping candle in the center, just as they had been when she was a girl.

He stood and waved her over, exposing his untucked shirt hanging down over his dark blue jeans. His broad grin told he was delighted to see her.

“Hello,” she said, smiling up at him, then glancing around the familiar room. “Waiting long?”

“Not at all.”

They exchanged pleasantries, placed their lunch orders, and chatted while they waited for their food.

The waiter brought their pasta dishes and wished them
buon appetito
as he left.

“So, tell me, Michael, what have you been doing with yourself since high school?” She pulled a slice of Italian bread from the basket and began buttering it.