Chapter Eleven
Dax studied the markings in the sandy soil that ended at the main entrance. “Looks like someone dragged a couple of large crates through here. Do you think we should go down there to check it out?”
Of course, the we meant Jessie. He’d never go down into the dark shaft—ever, but he figured Jessie wouldn’t mind, given her grandfather used to own the place until three years ago. She’d probably spent half her childhood down there.
“We can’t get in legally, but I can ask Mr. Catchman if he wouldn’t mind us taking a peek.”
She’d be doing the looking alone.
Too bad cell phones didn’t work here or they could have called the owner and saved themselves a return trip. This lack of service was starting to irritate him. He’d forgotten how the luxury of having instant communication sped up crime solving. If he’d known, and had the money, he would have rented a satellite phone for the week since those worked anywhere.
“Well, there’s nothing else here to give us a clue as to Sadie’s murder,” Jessie said, defeat written all over her face.
“I’ll have to agree with you.”
He headed back to his truck, gathered his tools that were probably worth more than his ten-year old vehicle, and placed the toolbox next to the cruiser. He then waited for Jessie to pop the trunk.
Instead of returning, she stood at the entrance staring at the padlock. Wind blew her hair and billowed her shirt. It would have been such a pretty sight had it not been ruined by her sad stance.
“Come on, Jessie. We have more work to do,” he shouted.
She dropped her hand from the lock and headed his way. “I know. I’ll come back tomorrow since I don’t want to be away from Nana any longer.”
* * *
The warm, soothing shower had relieved some of Jessie’s tension, but watching Nana and her friends pretend to play bridge renewed the knots in her shoulders.
They all looked so sad and were surely missing their friend. Jessie missed Sadie just as much since she’d been like an aunt to her.
Dax looked rather miserable too, sitting in the upholstered, flowered chair opposite her. Poor guy was flipping through a magazine without looking at the pages. Guess Helpful Hints To Cooking wouldn’t make his bestseller list any time soon. Jessie had told him she wasn’t sure she could handle these grieving women by herself, so he said he’d keep her company. Dax Mitchell was definitely a nice guy.
A fresh plate of her favorite dessert sat on the coffee table within arm’s reach, and as much as she loved the smell of homemade chocolate chip cookies, tonight her appetite had flown out the window, along with her enthusiasm for doing anything but sitting.
She didn’t even want to think about what to do with the boatload of food in the kitchen. Half the town must have emptied their refrigerators, along with The Sugar Shack, who’d donated more than a week’s worth of food. Nana and she wouldn’t have to cook for a long time.
Mary Alice tossed her cards on the table. “I fold.”
Eleanor, her partner, laid her hand gently on the corduroy tablecloth. “You don’t fold in bridge. You pass. Come on, Mary Alice. Sadie would want us to move on.”
“I know, but it’s so hard. To think we’ll never see her again.” She turned to Dax and sniffled. “Did you see any evidence the aliens did this to her?”
For the first time in two days, Jessie’s heart lightened. Good old Mary Alice. She lived for love—even if that love did come in the form of an alien.
Dax’s mouth half opened before he shut it. “No. The markings definitely indicated her killer was of the human variety.”
“Oh, thank you.” She almost looked angelic.
Roberta held her cards close to her face. “I bid five clubs.”
Nana, her partner, looked disgusted. “We can’t make five clubs.”
“But you bid two no trump to my two clubs. Are you saying you lied about what you had?”
“No, but, aw hell. I’m not in the mood to play anymore either. How can I concentrate knowing Sadie is looking down from above?” She tossed her cards in the middle of the table.
“I agree.” Eleanor said.
“Me too.” That came from Mary Alice.
“Well shit.” Roberta sighed. “I finally have a twenty-four point hand and you all toss in your cards. Margaret, I’m taking the small slam.” She marked the score down on the pad. “I’m sure we would have bid and made that.”
“That’s cheating,” Eleanor piped up. She turned to Nana. “Can she do that?”
Jessie had had enough of the bickering. “Ladies, please. We’re all stressed tonight. How about if you put the cards away and I fix you a nightcap?”
As if they were children promised candy if they behaved, they promptly shut up. Jessie looked to the heavens. If you’re up there, Sadie, thank you.
Jessie brought two bottles in from the dining room liquor cabinet—one a Scotch and the other gin. Dax stepped next to her and lifted the bottles from her hands. “Here, let me help.”
His musky aftershave sent a flutter through her stomach, which was the last thing she needed. “That’s okay, I’ll do it.” She wished her body didn’t turn traitor every time he came near.
“I have to keep busy and can’t sit another moment,” he whispered. “The cooking mag isn’t doing it for me.”
He was a good sport. “I really appreciate your support.”
“You’re welcome.” He tilted her chin with one finger, and his amazing warm, brown eyes nearly made her forget her grief.
Jessie pulled away, quickly grabbed four glasses, and placed them on the credenza. Dax poured the liquor while she readied the mixers.
“Listen, Jessie. You do realize as soon as Walter gets me on the road, I’m out of here? Unless you need me to help with the crimes, that is.”
Dax tapped the liquor bottle on the rim of the glass and looked at her, waiting for an answer.
“I do. Need you, that is.” In more ways than one.
* * *
Jessie pointed to Barton’s smashed security camera. “Take a look at the lens.”
Dax walked around, checking the apparatus from all angles. “Someone had a damned fine aim.” The camera sat on a pole, ten feet above the ground, pointing directly at the two gas pumps. “Barton got a ladder?”
“Probably,” Jessie said. “I can ask him.”
Dax probably shouldn’t have offered to stay in town, but being here for another few weeks to help Jessie solve Kerry’s crimes wasn’t the worse thing he could do. She needed his help, and it was possible someone might come after her.
Money didn’t grow on trees, which meant he should be back in Baltimore taking on more jobs, but doing nothing while he waited for his truck to get fixed wasn’t his style either. Hell, if he stayed, he might even get to sample those luscious lips again.
As she headed to the convenience store, she swung her butt right then left enticing him. She sure caught his attention.
A minute later a burly man with a mustache, wearing a red plaid shirt and worn jeans, walked out with Jessie and pointed around back.
She continued on to Dax. “Barton will be here in a minute.”
By the time Dax retrieved his needle nosed pliers from the trunk of the cruiser, the man had returned with the ladder.
The owner unfolded the metal legs that sent out a loud, grating sound and placed the creaky ladder under the camera. “Here ya go.”
Jessie introduced them and they shook hands. Harold nodded. “I’ll go back in if you two don’t need me.”
“Go ahead. Wouldn’t want you to keep the customers waiting,” Jessie said with a smile.
“What customers?”
Jessie chuckled and shooed him away. From what she’d told him, Kerry only had two gas stations, and given this one was farther out of town than the other one, Dax was surprised Harold stayed in business at all.
Dax climbed the ladder and inspected the damage done by the bullet. “This is unbelievable. Whoever took the shot hit the lens dead on. He must have had a laser site on his weapon. No one’s that good without the help.”
“Can you get the bullet out?”
“I’ll try, but it’s lodged in there pretty tight.” Dax tugged and twisted until finally it broke free. “Gotcha.”
A white Ford Taurus pulled up to the pump, and the driver rolled down the window. “So there you are. Jess, did you forget this was my first day?”
Jessie’s eyes widened. “Oh, Amanda. I’m so sorry. I…I kind of got wrapped up in this case.”
The blonde pulled the car onto a grassy area, parked, and then strutted over to the camera pole and looked up. “Hi, I’m Amanda Simmons, Jessie’s new deputy.”
He glanced at Jessie for an explanation, but she was still focused on her new hire. Guess taking on Amanda had slipped her mind, because otherwise Jessie would have asked her new recruit to help rather than him. Technically, he’d offered, but if she had a reason for withholding the information, he hoped she’d tell him.
Jessie stepped between Amanda and his ladder, acting almost protective.
“This is Dax Mitchell. He’s a private investigator from Baltimore who came to find Sadie.”
“Oh, really? Then I guess you’re almost done in Kerry, Mr. Mitchell.” Amanda struck a pose that he guessed she thought was sexy. Even in a uniform, she looked… well, cheap.
“Pretty close.” News of Sadie’s death sure traveled fast. For some reason, he didn’t feel the need to mention he’d promised to stay a bit longer.
“Here’s the bullet.” He climbed down the ladder and handed the evidence to Jessie.
“Thanks. I’ll put it in the evidence bag I have in the cruiser,” she said.
She was halfway to the car when a gunshot sounded. He jerked around, searching for the source but spotted no one. Feet pounding on the pavement caught his attention. Amanda was sprinting toward the store, so he tore his gaze back to Jessie. Face bleached white, she looked frozen in time, as if the shot had paralyzed her with fear.
“Jessie, get down!” Dax shouted as he sped over to her, his leg screaming in pain. Either she didn’t hear him yell, or her mind had blanked. Needing her to get out of harm’s way, he grabbed her by the waist and half carried, half dragged her the ten feet to the cruiser. Her legs gave way just as he eased her to the ground.
Her eyes widened. “I think I’ve been shot.”