Deadly Charm (10 page)

“So you were friends with Ezekiel's late wife, Toni?”

“She was like a sister to me. I helped her with Zeke and Zekia. She was frail. A real nice lady, but she took sick real easy. But you'd never meet a sweeter soul. She was the salt of the earth.”

“That's what Ezekiel said about her.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

“Her death must have devastated you.”

“I never trusted what they say happened to her.”

“How do you explain her death?”

“I can't explain it. But I can't help thinking somebody didn't want her around anymore. That's all I've got to say.”

Point taken. “What about Sister Lou? Could she have been involved in Zeekie's accident?”

“All I know is she and
that girl
are thick as thieves. Louella is a sick woman. She's always been a little strange, but she's flat-out crazy most of the time now. It's no telling what she could have done.”

She stood up. Our talk was over. “Well, I can't sit around running my big mouth all day. I've said too much as it is. I got to see to it that when Zekia and Zeke get home they got what they need to go to bed right away.” She turned and looked at me, and she looked strangely, wonderfully ferocious. Like a lioness. Or a good mother.

“God help me, but I think I'd kill somebody if they tried to hurt those kids now.” Again she pulled out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes. “You'll excuse me please.”

“Sister Joy?”

She paused and looked at me.

“If you ever need to talk, please let me know.”

“Like I said, I've already said too much.” She swiped her hand across her mouth, as if the gesture would erase her words. “Don't you pay me no mind, you hear? I just miss my baby, that's all. Don't you pay me no mind.”

“Sleep well, Sister Joy.”

She smiled shyly, shook her head, and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me at the table pondering all she'd said.

 

After dwelling on Sister Joy's interesting information, I began to get a bit agitated that Jazz was still gone. I don't know about Ezekiel, but the idea of my spouse hanging out with Ms. Brick House disturbed me more than I cared to admit.

I returned to the empty living room and sat on a stuffy old chair that wasn't old enough to be an antique but was uglier than one. I chose that chair so I could pull aside the sheer curtains every few minutes and peer out. By now Jazz could have gone to Rome and had ice cream with the Pope. Okay, maybe he hadn't been gone that long. But it felt like it. I picked up a book off the coffee table—
Cosmas or the Love of God
—and tried to read it. It looked like it might be good. Rocky was always reading good books. I read and reread the back cover, still not sure what it was about.

When I heard car doors slam and muffled voices drifting my way, I perked up. Ezekiel must have heard them, too. He materialized at my side and helped me get through the hallway as steps sounded on the porch outside. We stood in the foyer waiting on our spouses and the kids to come through the door.

They sauntered in looking like one big, happy family. Ever the gentleman, Jazz led Nikki into the house by placing his hand at the small of her back. She held on to Jazz so tightly that he practically had to wrench her off him once they'd gotten inside. For a grieving mother, Nikki positively glowed. I knew
that glow. That was
my
glow! She had Jazz magic all over her!

The children went right into their father's arms, smiling, and for a moment they looked like normal children without a hint of tragedy marking them. Zekia clutched her daddy's waist. “Mr. Jazz got us whatever we wanted. I had cheesecake ice cream. Daddy, it tasted so good.”

Little Zeke agreed with a vigorous bobblehead nod.

I did notice something amiss in this little family reunion. Mrs. Thunder did not readily embrace her own husband. She seemed far more interested in mine. I gathered my wits about me.

“What did you have, Nikki?” I asked, hoping she didn't say, “Your husband.”

She looked at me like I was the scourge of the Earth. “I had to be a good girl,” she said. “I think it's a woman's duty to watch her figure.”

Better her than my husband watching it.

She seemed to study me. “I admire you women who let yourself go and eat whatever you want.”

I stood there willing myself not to kill her. Jazz put his arms around my waist. “Personally, I like a little something to hold on to.”

God bless that man.

Nikki didn't seem to appreciate his comment. Suddenly her husband existed. She took his hand. “I'd like to have a hot bath and get my husband to bed now.”

“
Really?
” I screeched.

Jazz didn't acknowledge me but kept his attention fastened on Nikki. On the sly he pinched my waist, a move that said to
me, “Don't start.” I didn't let the Thunders see me react to the pinch.

Jazz cleared his throat. “It's been a long day. You folks had better get some rest.” To Nikki: “I'll be back tomorrow to check on you—and the kids.”

Yeah. Real smooth, Jazz.

“Me too,” I added in case Jazz had the mistaken impression that he'd be coming here alone.

I turned my attention to Ezekiel. “It was…” What was I supposed to say? It was
good
talking to you? I don't think so. I settled for “Thanks for your time, Ezekiel. I'll be praying for your family.”

“You do that, Bell. And I'll be praying for yours.”

Jazz opened the door for me, and I tried to step out, but…

I turned back to Nikki. “I don't mean to keep you. I know you want to get upstairs for that bath, but may I say you are one extraordinary woman, Nikki.”

She raised her chin and looked down her nose at me. She didn't reply.

“I mean, if my child—my
baby
—drowned this very day in that bathtub upstairs, the only bathtub in this house…well, I think it'd take a few strong men and an injection of powerful drugs to keep me from tearing that tub out of the wall, plumbing and all. I'd probably become a rabid shower person after that. It'd be a long time before Calgon would take me away. What amazing strength you have.” I waved. “Good night, everybody.”

Jazz let me out the door and gently settled me into the Love
Bug. He went to the driver's side and burst out laughing as soon as he opened the door.

“What are laughing at, crazy man?”

He shook his head. “You really are living up to your name.”

“Bell?”

“No, girl Columbo.”

He got in the car, shut the door, and off we went.

N
O SOONER
had we pulled out of the driveway of the Rock House house than I started seething at Jazz's antics. I mocked him in my head.
I'll be back tomorrow to check on YOU—and the kids. Yeah, well, so will I. I'll be checking on you a lot, cow!

Must repent. Must not call women farm animal names
.

My complete silence on the way home should have made Jazz acutely uncomfortable. He didn't seem fazed by it or my simmering anger. However, I'd made the mistake of letting him drive, so he had to go with me back to my apartment. He parked the Love Bug and grabbed my iPod, placing it in a Kroger grocery bag. Jazz shut the door behind him and came over to the passenger side to open the door for me.

I didn't move. “What are you doing?”

“Opening the door for you.”

“Why didn't you drive over to where your car is?”

“I'm not ready to leave yet, Bell.”

“What if I've had enough of you for one day?”

“Oh, I happen to know you can take more of me than that.” He said this with a wicked grin.

“Is your head always in the gutter?”

He leaned toward me, his arm resting on the top of the Love Bug. “Get out of the car, baby.”

“No.”

“I know you're mad. We can talk inside.”

“I don't want to talk to you.”

“You asked me to look into this for you, and that is what I did. Will you get out of the car so I can tell you what I accomplished this evening?”

I took a peek at him. “You were just working?”

“I was.”

“You're not attracted to that Cruella De Vil stick figure?”

“Hardly.”

“And you don't think I'm too fat?”

“Bell, get out of the car. It's cold out here.”

“You were supposed to say something romantic that made me believe you don't think I'm fat.”

“Bell, if you don't step out of the Love Bug right now, I'm going to drag you upstairs.”

“That fell way short of romantic, not to mention you still haven't said I'm not fat.”

He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “You're not fat. I think you're stunning. You're so hot that I can hardly resist you, even though I'm still mad at you.”

I grinned. “You think I'm hot?”

“Perhaps you should focus on my saying I'm still mad at you.”

“You'll get over it. About me being hot…”

“You'll be hotter inside your apartment.”

“Do you want to ravish me?”

“No. I want to throttle you. Please get out of the car.”

I stepped a leg out. “I'm only letting you inside so you can report what happened with your girlfriend Nikki.”

He moved back, took my hand, and helped me out of the car. “Fine.”

“I don't want you getting fresh just because you're my husband. We're separated.”

“You grill me about whether or not I want you, and now you insist that I not flirt with you.”

“I have my standards.”

“Spare me the details,” he said. “Let's go inside and
debrief
.”

I shook my head in disgust. “Must you make everything sound nasty?”

“I'm suggesting we go inside and discuss our experiences tonight. So, who's the nasty one?”

“Are we going to discuss your attraction to Ms. The Lord Giveth, the Lord Taketh Away?”

“And to think I thought that shade of green you turned was because you have morning sickness.”

“I'm not pregnant.”

“Bell, let's get you out of the car. It's cold out here.”

“I don't have to go in there with you.”

“Yes, you do, it's your apartment.”

“Jazz, sweetie, I want you to zoom in on the fact that I don't have to go in there
with you
!”

“Bell, if you don't step out of the Love Bug right now, I'm going to drag you upstairs.”

“Very romantic, Jazz. Turns out you're the Neanderthal I thought you were.”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his curls again. “Not really. If I was, you'd be unconscious and upstairs by now.”

I gave him my most withering glance. “I hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual. Now step into my hating arms and let me carry you upstairs.”

“I can walk.”

“Bell!” And then his Tourette's syndrome flared up. After he finished cussing, he said, “You can't walk with that bad ankle. I'm taking you upstairs. And we're going to talk about tonight. Can you just cooperate since you're the one who vowed to God that you would obey me?”

“Don't pull the sacred vows card!”

His eyes burned into me like lasers.

“Fine!”

“Fine!” He took my hand and helped me out of the car.

“And keep this in mind, Mr. Debrief, my great-grandmother always said, ‘If you want the milk, you gotta buy the cow.'”

“I
did
buy the cow.”

“Then you have to milk it, or something.”

“I'm trying to.”

“Okay, that one didn't work. I'm just trying to say you don't get any lovin' if we're separated.”

“You made that clear to me, cow!” He laughed.

I would beat him. As soon as I got my ankle back in order, he would be so spousally abused.

He locked the Love Bug and strained to carry me up the three flights to my apartment. Honestly! I needed to cut him
some slack, if only for the Herculean efforts he made to take care of me. It had been a long day. I'd gone through a full gamut of emotions, from the surprise and irritation I felt at the intervention this afternoon to heart-wrenching grief at finding out about Zeekie—a grief that seemed to multiply as the hours passed. For a moment I let my head rest on his shoulder and pretended that we were all right. We loved each other, and we were going home.

When we finally arrived at apartment 3B, Jazz put me down and opened the door for us. He took my hand and pulled me inside. I winced when my throbbing foot touched the ground.

Concern slipped through his anger. “I'm sorry, baby, are you okay?”

“Yes,” I lied. Then, “No.”

He closed the door, locked all three locks,
and
put on the chain. He unbuttoned my coat, his tenderness moving me. I took the chance to let him know. “You're very sweet sometimes.”

“I happen to like undressing you.”

“You had to go there, didn't you?”

He slid my coat off. “I've just gotten started. I'm really anxious to get that body-hugging tattoo T-shirt off of you.” He pulled a hanger out of the closet and hung my coat on it, then placed it in the closet.

I put my hands on my hips. “What? No dinner first? No movie? You think I'm a cheap date?”

He took off his own coat and hung it up. “Cheap date? Not you, Bell. You're
incredibly
high maintenance.” He stepped out of his Florsheims.

“Like Nikki Thunder?”

“I don't really know Nikki Thunder, but based on first impressions, I'd say you're nothing like her. You've got your own brand of high maintenance that I worry about.”

“Meaning?”

“People keep trying to kill you when you get involved in what you don't seem to realize is
police
work.” He carried me over to the sofa, and both of us plopped down. He helped me gently pull off my boots. Propped my foot on the coffee table. “Can I get you something?”

“I'm not very hungry, but I could use something to drink.”

“Coming right up.”

He went into the kitchen. I could hear him rooting around my cabinets. He emerged a few minutes later with a tall glass of milk for me, and something that looked suspiciously like alcohol for him.

He handed me the milk. “Mooooooooo,” he said. Sat down beside me.

“You are so evil.”

He laughed again, and darn it, I laughed, too, because his laughter affects me that way.

“What's that you're having?”

“Jack Daniel's.”

“I don't have any Jack Daniel's.”

“I do.”

“Jazz, didn't you have enough to drink earlier?”

“Apparently not.”

“I'm concerned about you.”

“I can handle my liquor.”

“Other people seem to think you're having a problem.”

“They're wrong.”

For a few minutes neither of us spoke. I sipped on the milk, not really enjoying it.

“Why did you give me milk?”

“I didn't think you wanted whiskey.”

“You could have gotten me a cup of coffee or a Diet Pepsi.”

“Bell, maybe you should hold off on caffeinated drinks until you…”

“Until I what?”

He didn't mince words. “Are you pregnant?”

“I told you I'm not. That's something our weird friends and family concocted.”

“Rocky seems to think you are.”

“Rocky believes in Santa Claus.”

He took my hands in his. “I bought a pregnancy test while I was out.”

“It wasn't necessary. I'm not pregnant.”

“Take the test for
me
.” He took my hands in his.

“No.”

“Baby—”

“I said no.”

“What harm would it do?”

I snatched my hands away. “What harm? Maybe I've already been through this. Weeks ago, when my breasts were tingling and sore and nausea blindsided me. When I was scared to death to hope, but did anyway because I kept feeling these incredible things happening in my body.”

His own body armor went up and he crossed his arms. But I hadn't finished my rant.

“Oh, I tried not to get excited, but I couldn't help it. I got a pregnancy test, Jazz, and before I had time to take it, I bled. I lay in my bed curled up like a fetus and cried my eyes out because I wanted your baby so badly. And I went through that all alone. You were busy being mad somewhere else.”

He didn't say anything for a moment. Then, “You should have told me if you even suspected it.”

“Oh, I wanted to tell you. I had all these fantasies about how I would let you know I was pregnant. I would make you a steak dinner. Man food! Medium rare, just like you like it. And I'd have a battle of nonalcoholic champagne. And I'd
nonalcoholic
wine and dine you, put a rattle on your plate. And you were going to realize we were made to be together, and it was all a terrible mistake what happened with Rocky, and we'd live happily ever after. You, me, and our baby.”

For a moment I felt like I couldn't breathe. My throat constricted and tears stung my eyes. I whispered, “We were going to grow old together, like Jack and Addie.”

A few errant tears slid down my cheeks. I swiped at them, angry that I'd been weak enough to let them fall. “Shoot. I said I wouldn't cry about this anymore.”

Jazz didn't say anything.

I grabbed a mud-cloth pillow and put it between us like it was a wall I'd erected. “So you see, Jazz, I already have a pregnancy test I don't need in my bathroom closet. And if you don't mind, I'd like to have myself a Diet Pepsi. Because I'm not having a baby, and I never will. It's too late.”

When he didn't respond, I tore into him, “Make it fast, Jazz, or I'll have some of that Jack Daniel's with you.”

He got up and went into the kitchen and grabbed a Diet Pepsi out of the refrigerator for me. I'd gotten myself so upset that I'd started to shake and couldn't control the free flow of tears bursting out of me.

Jazz came into the living room, placed my Pepsi on the coffee table, and sat by me, immediately taking me in his arms. He ran his hands down my shoulders and arms and let them settle at my waist. He pulled me on to his lap. “Aw, baby.”

“I don't feel well! All this craziness at the Rock House going on with these good Christian folk! It's hard to tell saint from sinner. I'm suspicious of the whole Thunder lot. Well, maybe not the kids or Joy.”

I took a deep breath. “And that whole ticking biological clock thing? It's not ticking like it used to. In fact, I don't hear it at all, and how could I over the cacophony of voices tormenting me by telling me I'm pregnant when I'm not? And then there's you! And this insane
thing
we have.” I furiously swiped tears away.

“This
thing
is a marriage. It's raggedy, but we
are
married.”

A sob escaped my mouth.

He rocked me until I calmed down, and my breathing matched his, my heart beating in time with his. He murmured in my ear, “You don't have to worry about anything. Why don't you just sit here with me and rest?”

He kissed my cheek and went back to my ear. “I thought you came to ask me for a divorce today, baby. I groped you because I was hurt and angry. And crazy. I missed you, Bell.”

I clung to him. I loved him so, but I never knew exactly what we were doing together.

“Baby,” he said. “About Jack and Addie. They uh…” He
seemed to search for his story. “They aren't perfect. They got married a month after they met. Even though they loved each other, they had a lot of fights. They really didn't know each other yet, and it wasn't always easy for them. He thought Mom should be more motherly, and to be honest, she wasn't always a great mom. She was an artist. We ate a lot of peanut butter and jelly while she painted, sculpted, or made jewelry. And that food she cooks that you love so much? She started cooking in her forties!”

I laughed. Unbelievable.

“Dad worked all the time. And, once, he got confused and did more than kiss another woman.”

“Really, Jazz?”

“They were a bigger mess than us, and that's saying a lot. But they got through it. They're the love of each other's lives.”

I couldn't deal with this kind of revelation. Jack and Addie fighting like us? An affair? I had hoped life could be easy and great for some of us.