The Lake House Secret, A Romantic Suspense Novel (A Jenessa Jones Mystery) (24 page)

“I’m not that guy anymore, Jenessa. I’ve tried to make something of myself, work to be a good businessman in my own right, not simply riding my father’s coattails. Can’t you see that?”

She studied him, wondering how much she should believe. He was always a good talker. As she stared into his eyes, something was tugging at her heart, drawing her to him—but she resisted.

“What I see is a handsome face, a hot body, and a silver tongue, all of which makes up a man that is used to getting whatever he wants. A guy who took what he wanted from me and cast me aside to fend for myself, who let his father bully me into giving up our baby.”

“I already told you—that was the old Logan. He was just a stupid teenager. This Logan is a responsible, hardworking man who regrets the mistakes he made back then. And if I remember correctly, I didn’t have to take anything from you. You gave it up willingly.”

Her hand flew across his face before she realized what she was doing.

He froze and stared at her without saying a word. Shock widened his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Her cheeks flushed. “I…I don’t know what came over me.”

“Years of pent-up anger, I’m guessing.” He rubbed his cheek. “I can’t say I blame you. I didn’t express myself very well. What I meant is that you gave yourself to me willingly because we were in love.”

Thinking back to that night, she had to agree, but the memory suddenly made her uncomfortable. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I need to go.”

“Will you help me? Because I’m desperate to find out who really killed Lucy.”

“I’ll see what I can do. No promises.”

“I appreciate that.”

She stepped to the cell door and called out, “Guard!”

~*~

Jenessa left Logan sitting in his cell, fearing for his life. Her boss would expect a story update that afternoon, and the residents of Hidden Valley, who no doubt had already heard about the arrest through the grapevine, would want to know what was happening. She had told Logan that whatever he said was off the record, but he hadn’t really told her anything except adamantly declaring that he was innocent. That she could print.

When she reached the hallway leading to the reception area, she found Michael leaning against the wall, waiting for her.

“Get what you came for?” His voice was cool, almost suspicious.

“Yes, I did.”

“Care to share?”

“You know I can’t.”

“It’s not like you have client-attorney privilege, Jenessa.”

“What I can tell you is that he is unwavering in his claim that he did not kill Lucy St. John, that the police have arrested the wrong person.”

“Guilty people always say that,” Detective Provenza interjected as he joined them.

“Then my suggestion to you, George, is to keep digging for more evidence so you have an ironclad case. You just might find something that points to someone else.”

“You have someone in particular in mind, young lady?” George asked.

“So, you believe him, Jenessa?” Michael asked.

“I want to. Logan’s a lot of things, but I never thought a murderer was one of them.”

Michael pushed away from the wall. “Maybe your past relationship with him is coloring your judgment.”

“I am trying to keep an open mind. I need to uncover the whole story. Who killed Lucy, how she was killed, and why,” Jenessa said.

“I can tell you how,” Provenza spoke up. “Blunt force trauma to the head. That’s the official cause of death.”

“Can I print that?” she asked.

“I don’t see why not,” George replied. “And you’ll be happy to know I’ve gotten a warrant to search the Alexanders’ lake house.”

Chapter 34

“A search warrant for the lake house?” Jenessa’s eyes lit up. “Can I tag along?” She looked from George to Michael and back.

Michael glowered at her request.

Provenza shrugged. “As long as you take your own car, Miss Jones, I guess it couldn’t hurt. But you’ll need to stay out of our way.”

“But, sir,” Michael butted in, “do you think that’s wise?”

He was obviously trying to protect Detective Provenza, who, in Michael’s opinion, shared too much with Jenessa.

“Baxter, relax. The crime was committed over ten years ago. It’s not like she’s going to walk through blood spatter or smudge any fingerprints. She’ll wear gloves and stand where I tell her to stand.”

“That’s right.” Jenessa grinned at the elder detective.

“Still…” Michael frowned at her.

“And she won’t print anything we might want to hold back from becoming public knowledge, will she?” George glared at Jenessa, asking with his eyes for her agreement.

“Of course not, Detective Provenza.” She was tempted to call him George again, but if she wanted to stay on his good side, she had better refrain.

“All right, I guess I’m outnumbered,” Michael said. “We’ll gather a couple of officers and see you up there, but you’d better watch your lead foot in that pretty little sports car you drive. Officer Ramirez is on duty on that stretch, and he isn’t as likely to let you off with a warning as I was.”

~*~

Michael was right. The beautiful summer day was perfect for a drive up to the lake—lots of sunshine and clear blue skies.

Jenessa carefully stayed within the speed limit until she passed the sign that announced she was leaving the Hidden Valley city limits. She eased the gas pedal down and delighted in the purr of the engine as she rounded the curves. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was going to the Alexanders’ lake house, and the anxiety that fact was building in her chest, not to mention the throbbing pressure it was causing in her head, it would have been a perfectly wonderful drive.

She veered onto the road that led to Jonas Lake. Before she reached the marina, she turned left toward the homes that dotted the perimeter of the shore. It had only been a week since the last time she had taken that particular road, when Charles McAllister had assigned her the story about the body that had been discovered. She breathed in deeply and blew it out, resolved to handle being in or near the Alexanders’ lake house better than she had the last time.

When she reached the stunning waterfront home, there were no other cars there, thanks to her lead foot. After all, the detectives had to round up some help before heading up there.

Jenessa climbed out of her car and walked over to the spot where the remains had been discovered. Crime scene tape was still strung around the site, and construction on the new cabin had apparently been halted until cleared by the authorities.

She ducked under the tape and stood at the edge of the grave. A wave of sadness washed over her for what Ramey had lost. Lucy hadn’t been much of a mother, but Ramey had loved her anyway. Not knowing her mother was dead, Ramey had shared with Jenessa on several occasions how she pretty much felt like an orphan. That feeling was understandable, but could Ramey have known her mother was dead? Is that what really made her feel like an orphan?

Jenessa pushed the thought out of her mind, irritated at herself that she let her imagination run away with her. Sweet Ramey wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Her gaze roved over the crude shallow grave. In her mind, she saw the suspicious unidentified item. Early on, when she’d inquired of her secret contact at the State’s forensic lab about the locket, she’d also asked if they’d found anything else, like a button or a cufflink or something. At the time, the answer was no. Perhaps whatever it was had turned up by now. Jenessa was convinced she had seen something.

She turned at the sound of tires crunching on the dusty asphalt road. The detectives had arrived, followed by a squad car with two uniformed officers and a third person in the back seat.

Ducking back under the tape, she hurried to meet them. “Hello, boys,” she greeted as Michael and George climbed out of their car.

“Why am I not surprised you’re already here.” Michael flashed her a quick smile, then turned to the officers and the unidentified woman. “Let’s head inside.”

Michael knocked hard on the front door. When no one answered, he tried the knob and found it locked. He pulled his lock-picking set out of his pocket and within seconds he had the door open.

“Why couldn’t you do that on my lap drawer?” Jenessa asked, half kidding. She hadn’t yet told him she had found the hidden key, but now was not the time to go into it.

Michael let Detective Provenza enter first, Jenessa close on the man’s heels. The officers and the woman followed after Michael.

“Who’s that?” Jenessa asked Michael in a low voice, motioning with her thumb toward the other woman.

“That’s Libby from the county crime lab. Lucky for us she was in town on other business or we’d still be waiting for her.”

Jenessa looked around the living room as the others fanned out, searching through the house. Most everything was as it had been twelve years ago, everything except for a new white slipcover on the sofa, the coffee table, and the area rug under it. In her mind, she saw herself and Logan, lying down on the rug that covered the hardwood floors, talking and eating ice cream the night he had brought her there. At seeing this place again, something gripped her insides, an anxiety she wasn’t familiar with. It was the very spot she had given herself to Logan.

Michael must have noticed the pained expression on her face. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”

She nodded, but she wasn’t about to let on what she was thinking.

“Anything different from how you remembered it?”

“The rug. It was years ago, but when I was here, it had been a light blue-and-white pattern with small flowers in the border, but now it’s this tan sisal. And the coffee table. It had been one of those natural slabs of burl wood with a thick resin finish—you know the kind—instead of this rectangular pine one.”

“Anything else?” Provenza asked.

“The sofa always had a white slipcover,” Jenessa said, “but I’m sure they’ve replaced it with a new one after all this time—maybe more than once.”

“How do you know these things have changed?” George asked. “Mr. Alexander invite you to one of his shindigs?”

Jenessa paused for a moment, her gaze drifting from Michael to George. She pulled in a deep breath before speaking and breathed out a laugh. “Like that would ever happen. No, I used to date Logan Alexander when we were in high school, remember?”

Detective Provenza rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, I think I recall something about that. Sorry, it must be old age.”

“It’s probably a long shot,” Michael said, “but it wouldn’t hurt to check out the floor under the rug for blood, seeing how we know it’s been changed. We just don’t know why.”

“If there had been any blood, someone would have certainly cleaned it up by now,” Provenza said.

“Maybe, but what if you found a tiny bit of it in the cracks between the hardwood planks?” Jenessa raised her brows to him, suggesting what a help to their case that would be.

“That’s right,” Michael agreed. “Why don’t we have Libby spray some Luminol on the floor, see if there’s any trace of blood still there?”

“I was just about to suggest that.” Provenza turned to go and find her. “Hey, Libby!” he hollered as he wandered down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

Michael watched him go. “Is it hard to be here, Jenessa?”

Even though she had tried to hide her feelings, the expression on her face must have given them away. “Some.” She nodded.

“You don’t have to stay.” He placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “We can handle it from here.”

“I’m not leaving until I see what happens with the Luminol.”

George and Libby joined them. “Let’s get that table and rug moved, son,” he ordered.

Once the detectives had them moved out of the way, Libby bent down and sprayed the Luminol on the floor, spraying it over every inch of where the rug had been.

“Look at that!” Provenza hollered.

The chemical glowed in the cracks between a few of the slats not far from the fireplace.

Blood.

“Can you get a sample there, Libby?” he asked. “I want that taken to the lab ASAP and see if we can match it to Lucy St. John.”

“Got it, Detective,” Libby replied.

“If this is Lucy’s blood, with Logan’s DNA putting him at the burial site, and money being a strong motive,” Michael explained, “the DA can build a solid case against him.”

“Yeah,” Provenza agreed. “Let’s see his father and his fancy lawyers get him out of this one.”

The front door burst open and all heads turned toward the noise. Grey Alexander entered and stalked over to them. “What the hell is going on here?”

Chapter 35

Grey Alexander stomped into the living room of the lake house. “Did you hear me?”

Michael handed the search warrant to him. “We’re searching your house for clues to Lucy St. John’s murder.”

“I want you all out of here!” Grey yelled.

“Sorry, it’s not your call, Mr. Alexander,” Provenza said. “You’ll need to stand aside while we finish.”

“You!” Grey screamed at Jenessa. “You’ve got something to do with this, don’t you? I warned you to stay away from my family. You’ll wish—”

Michael interrupted him, stepping defensively in front of Jenessa. “You’d better hold your tongue, sir.”

“Get out of my way.” Grey pushed at Michael, but he did not move.

“Are you assaulting a police officer, Mr. Alexander?” Provenza asked in his unassuming way. “Because if you are, well, you do know that’s a crime—right?”

“First you arrest my son on some flimsy charge,” Grey said, “and now you’re trying to drum up some kind of evidence to hold against him. Really, George? After eleven years you really think you’re going to find anything relating to what happened to that poor woman?”

George stood a little straighter, to his full five feet nine inches, and puffed out his chest. “That’s Detective Provenza to you.” They had known each other for decades, but watching George stand up for himself was marvelous.

“How did you know it was eleven years?” Michael asked.

“Jenessa asked my ex-wife where she was the summer eleven years ago,” Grey snapped.

Michael stepped closer and stared into the man’s eyes. “Mr. Alexander, you’ve got to stay out of our way while we work. I don’t want to have to physically remove you, but I will if you push your luck.”