The Lake House Secret, A Romantic Suspense Novel (A Jenessa Jones Mystery) (23 page)

Why not wish it for herself as well?

There was a time she was so in love with Logan Alexander that she thought she couldn’t live without him. Then the unplanned pregnancy ripped their lives apart—well, hers anyway—and that dream was snuffed out.

Now Michael was in the picture. They weren’t in love—not yet—but the possibility of it was definitely there.

Why did Logan have to make that outlandish declaration of love to her at The Brass Razoo last night? And in front of Sara, no less. Her head began to throb.

What was he thinking? Certainly he wasn’t still in love with her, not after all the hurt and years that had passed since that pivotal night at the lake house.

Maybe her indifference to him seemed like a challenge—as if now he wanted what he couldn’t have. Wasn’t that just like him? Logan Alexander always got what he wanted—didn’t he?

Like father, like son.

As Jenessa pushed her chair back and stood up, a pen fell off the desk and rolled under it. Getting down on all fours, she climbed beneath the desk to retrieve it. That’s when she saw it—a key taped to the bottom of the lap drawer.

“Oh, my gosh.” Could it be
the
key?

Picking at the tape with her fingernails, she worked the key loose. She slid it into the lock on the front of the drawer and
voila!
—it worked.

Her heart began to thump with anticipation. What was so important her father had locked it away and hidden the key?

Excited, she pulled the lap drawer open and found a manila envelope laying atop numerous office supplies. She dragged it out and set it on the desk. Her fingers nimbly worked the brad open and slid the contents out—legal documents.

Jenessa went page by page, reading through the documents—Ramey’s birth certificate, an agreement between Grey Alexander and Lucy St. John, copies of cancelled checks, and more. She studied the agreement, which stated Grey would pay Lucy a sum of five thousand dollars a month, every month, as long as she kept the name of Ramey’s biological father confidential. If Lucy went public with the information, even telling Ramey about her own father’s identity, the disbursements would stop.

So what happened? Why did Lucy take off and leave Ramey once she graduated from high school? Had she let it slip to Ramey who her father was? If so, Grey would have had to find out somehow to cause him to stop making payments to her.

Has Ramey actually known all this time? Did she only pretend to be shocked when Jenessa told her?

Jenessa’s imagination was running wild with possibilities.

No, Ramey couldn’t have known. She would never have agreed to go on a date with Logan back then if she had. Unless…could she have found out shortly after the night Grey took Logan aside and told him? Had Logan been the one to break it to her?

Or had Lucy come back to see Ramey one night and it all came spilling out? Had Ramey fought with her mother and accidentally killed her? Perhaps she took Lucy’s body up to the lake and buried it in the woods behind her father’s lake house, the beautiful lake house that she was never invited to, as some kind of thumbing her nose at him.

Jenessa shook her head hard, as if she could shake the horrible suspicions out of her mind.

But Logan had said he overheard his father and stepmother arguing over a large sum of money
that woman
was asking for to keep quiet. Logan had assumed they were talking about Lucy. What if they were talking about Ramey?

No, that’s just plain crazy. Ramey would never do such a thing—would she?

~*~

Jenessa tossed and turned all night, playing over and over in her mind various scenarios of what might have happened to Lucy. Finally, exhausted from wrestling with her thoughts, she dragged herself out of bed and into the shower.

Standing before her bathroom mirror, she blow-dried her long, dark hair, thinking about what she had to do that day. She had three obituaries to write this morning and an interview scheduled with the high school principal regarding the students’ fund-raising efforts for remodeling the auditorium. The auction Elizabeth Alexander was heading up was expected to bring in quite a haul, but the principal thought it would be good for the students to be involved as well.

Ah, small town life.

The ringing of her phone on the vanity disrupted her train of thought.

“Good morning, Charles.”

“Jenessa, get down to the jail. We have a breaking story. Logan Alexander has been arrested for the murder of Lucy St. John.”

“Oh, my god.” The disturbing news tensed her chest and she shuddered at a zing of pain that ran down both arms. “But why?”

“That’s what you need to find out. Call me when you’ve got something.”

“I have three obits due and an appointment with the high school principal this morning that I’ll need to reschedule.”

“I’ll do the obits and have Alice phone the principal. You get yourself over to the jail, pronto.”

“Got it, boss.”

Her next call was to Detective Provenza.

“I can’t talk right now, Miss Jones,” the detective said.

“Just give me a second.” She should have waited for his agreement, but she plowed on, not allowing him the chance to shut her off. “I’ve been told you arrested Logan Alexander for Lucy’s murder. Is that right?”

“Yes, but I have to—”

“What prompted you to do that? New evidence?”

George lowered his voice and it sounded as if he had cupped his hand over the phone. “Got the DNA results early this morning. The blood you brought in was a match to the DNA on the comb, at least close enough to link it to him.”

Logan certainly had motive, likely had opportunity, and now, with his DNA being found with the dead body, the District Attorney would surely try to crucify him. There had never been any love lost between the DA and Grey Alexander.

“Thanks, George.” Jenessa stuck the phone in her pocket as she ran down the stairs to grab her purse and a granola before she flew out the door.

She fired up the Roadster and raced over to the police station, hoping she could get in to see Logan before he was taken to court for arraignment.

Once inside the station, she marched up to the reception desk and asked for Detective Provenza. The middle-aged receptionist phoned him and told him he had a visitor up front. “What’s your name, hon?” she asked, peering up at Jenessa.

“Jenessa Jones.”

The woman repeated it to the detective. “Uh-huh.” She paused. “Okay, Detective.”

“Is he coming?” Jenessa asked. A nervous energy rose in her and she struggled to keep it in check.

“He said to have you cool your jets over there.” The woman pointed to a row of chairs along the wall.

“How about Detective Baxter? Is he available?” She couldn’t just sit and wait when there was a story to get.

The receptionist dropped her chin and glared at Jenessa over her glasses. “Hmm, let’s see.” She picked up the phone again, dialed and waited. “Sorry, just going to voicemail.” She set the receiver down. “Anyone else you’d like me to call?”

“No.” Jenessa reluctantly took a seat.

After a few minutes, the gray-haired detective came out to the reception area, followed by newly-dubbed Detective Baxter. “What can we do for you, Miss Jones?”

She started to smile at Michael, but caught herself. Detective Provenza likely wasn’t aware of her personal relationship with the junior detective. She needed to keep professional decorum. “I wondered if I might be able to see Logan Alexander, as a friend.”

“He’s not talking,” Michael said, “under the advisement of his lawyer and his father.”

“Are they in with him?” she asked.

“You just missed them,” George said.

Lucky me.
“If he doesn’t want to talk to me, I’ll go away, but just ask him, please.”

“All right,” George reluctantly agreed. “I’ll be right back.” He wandered off down the hall.

Michael took the chair beside Jenessa. “Why do you want to talk to him? He’s been arrested for murdering your best friend’s mother.”

“I know, but it’s my job—what can I say?” She shrugged. “I’m hoping I have an in because we’re old friends.” But it was more than that. She wanted Logan to look her in the eye and tell her he didn’t do it. She had to know she hadn’t created a child with a killer.

Michael sat back in the chair and crossed his arms. No retort, no argument. They sat in awkward silence until Provenza returned.

“Looks like today is your lucky day,” Detective Provenza announced. “Alexander agreed to see you.”

Good fortune has struck twice in one day.

Michael stood. “I’ll take you back there.” His voice was pleasant enough, but the expression on his face told a different story.

Chapter 33

Logan was seated on the bed, which was little more than a cot, but jumped to his feet as Jenessa and Michael approached.

Michael held the cell door open and she slipped inside. “Just holler for the guard when you’re done.” He closed the door, made sure it locked, and stalked away.

Jenessa watched Michael go. When she was certain he was out of earshot, she turned to Logan.

He had dragged a metal chair to the bed and gestured toward it with his outstretched hand, as he sat on the mattress. “I wanted to spend some time alone with you, Jenessa, but this isn’t how I envisioned it.” He seemed to be struggling to keep his voice light and his spirits up.

“I never thought I’d be visiting you in jail, either.” She glanced at the stark surroundings. It was a far cry from his usual digs.

His voice turned serious. “My father and my attorney told me not to speak to anyone.”

“I’m here as your friend.”

“So, whatever I say is off the record?”

“It is.”

His curious gaze roved over her body. “You don’t have some sort of wire or recording device on you, do you?”

“No, Logan. It’s just me.”

“Why did you come?” His piercing eyes searched her face, as if hoping for an encouraging answer.

“The police have evidence that you are the one that buried Lucy St. John in the shallow grave by your lake house.”

“My
family’s
lake house,” he corrected.

“They’re saying you had motive and opportunity, and with your DNA that the CSIs found at the gravesite, they’re looking at you for the murder.”

“Yeah, that’s what my lawyer said, but I don’t understand how they could have found my DNA. I was never anywhere near that woman.”

“You had to be.”

“But I wasn’t,” he shot back.

She sprang to her feet. “Then how could your DNA have been found with her body?”

He jumped up as well and grabbed her by her shoulders, locking his gaze on hers. “Listen to me, Jenessa. I did not kill Lucy St. John!”

Jenessa tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. “Let go! You’re hurting me.”

His hands flew out to the sides. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize.” Fear welled up in his eyes. “You have to believe me. I did not kill that woman. They have the wrong man.”

“Or woman,” she muttered. Her thoughts went to those she had of Ramey the previous night, but her friend wasn’t the only female that might have wanted Lucy dead. Lauren Alexander could have wanted to silence Lucy too. Maybe even Elizabeth, the ex-wife.

“Woman?” Logan’s eyebrow quirked.

“I simply meant if it wasn’t you, it could have been a man or a woman.”

“
If
it wasn’t me? So you think I could have done this?” He sank down onto the bed, running his fingers through his hair. “Oh, man.”

She sat beside him. “It could have been an accident.” Something inside urged her to put her arm around him and comfort him, but she held herself back. “Maybe you went to talk some sense into her and things got out of hand. Or she attacked you and it was self-defense.”

Logan shook his head, then looked directly into her eyes, gently taking her hand. “No, Jenessa. I did not kill Lucy St. John—not under any circumstances. You have to believe me. I don’t know how my DNA got anywhere near her dead body, but it wasn’t me—I swear.”

Jenessa stared deeply into his eyes, probing them for the truth. Raw fear was an expression she had never seen in them before, but today it was filling his eyes and spreading across his face. Even the night they had to tell their parents that she was pregnant was nothing compared to now.

“Say you believe me,” he begged, his moist eyes pleading.

She pulled her hand back. She couldn’t do it. “I want to say it, Logan, really I do, but I have to follow the facts.” And she would continue to follow them, wherever they led, but for now she was satisfied that she had gotten what she had come for, to look into Logan’s eyes and hear from his own lips that he did not kill Ramey’s mother.

“Then follow the facts and prove me innocent.” He seemed to gain strength in her resolve. “Don’t let the cops stop looking for the real killer. You know how they can be. They get a suspect under arrest and they stop considering any other possibilities.”

Jenessa stood to leave. “I won’t stop digging, Logan.”

“I believe you.” He took her hand again. “I meant what I said the other night.”

She pulled her hand back. “You told me at the park that you were too drunk to remember anything.”

“I lied.”

“And are you lying now?” she asked.

“I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Jenessa turned toward the bars, her heart quickening its beat.

“We were too young to get married and have a baby back then,” he said. “We were just kids ourselves—you know we were.”

“I know.”

“I was immature and self-centered. I just wanted to be a big football star and didn’t want a baby to stand in the way of that.”

She slowly turned and looked up at him, her eyes suddenly moist. “Not just
a
baby—our baby—our son.”

“You know what I meant. I’ve thought about that little boy many times over the years, wondered if he looked like me, if he’d grow up liking football as much as I did.”

“So, it’s still all about you, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I hope he’s being raised in a good family, not a dysfunctional one like mine, with too much money and too little love.”

Had he really been thinking of their son all these years? She had always believed it was just her.