Pumpkins in Paradise (Tj Jensen Paradise Lake Mystery Book 1) (5 page)

BOOK: Pumpkins in Paradise (Tj Jensen Paradise Lake Mystery Book 1)
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“I met the new deputy.”
Tj decided to change the subject. “He was one of the deputies who responded today. Did your mom ever get the rest of the story?”

“Of course.
” Jenna’s eyes sparkled as they locked with Tj’s. “His name is Dylan Caine, he’s thirty-two years old, a widower, no children, and a former member of the Chicago Police Department.”

“Widower?

“Eight months ago
. Someone broke into his apartment, shot him five times, and then killed his wife right in front of his eyes.”

“Oh, my God
. Who would do such a thing?”

“A gang member out to seek revenge for the death of a fellow gang member the previous week
. According to Mom’s source, Dylan was the target, but his wife got caught in the crossfire and died instantly.”

“God, how awful.

“Yeah, and it gets worse
. After he was released to go back to work, they put him on desk duty. Of course, he was more interested in finding his wife’s killer than filing paperwork, so when they wouldn’t assign him to the case, he quit and went after the guy on his own.”

“And?”

“It took a few months
. The guy, who turned out to be little more than a kid, managed to evade him for a while, but eventually Deputy Caine tracked him down. I guess he’s dead now.”

“He killed him?

“Not intentionally,” Jenna explained
. “After months of following dead ends and useless leads, he finally caught a break and managed to track the guy down in an abandoned apartment building. The guy fled before he could be apprehended. Dylan went after him and they ended up taking the chase out into an alley, where they cornered themselves in one of those standoffs you see on TV, where they’ve each got a gun on the other.” Jenna’s face grew animated as she shared her tale. “The two men exchanged gunfire, arguing all the while about who should be the one giving up. For a while it looked like they’d be trapped in an endless stalemate until someone took a chance and made a move. And then” —Tj waited as Jenna paused for dramatic effect—“this kid, who heard the arguing, wandered into the alley.” Tj cringed as she correctly interpreted the outcome. “The gang member grabbed the kid and told Dylan he’d shoot the boy if Dylan didn’t drop his gun. At first Dylan hesitated, but the man pointed the gun at the child’s head, so Dylan gave up and tossed his gun to the side.”

“So how did Dylan end up here and the other guy dead?” Tj wondered.

“The gang member diverted his attention from the young boy long enough to shoot at Dylan, but Dylan anticipated the shot and fell to the ground. He used the diversion to grab the gun hidden in his pant leg. According to Mom, he shot the guy just as he turned to shoot the kid.”

“And the kid?”

“Shaken up but fine,” Jenna assured her
. “There was some sort of investigation, but the arguing and gunfire alerted the residents of several nearby apartment buildings, so there were plenty of witnesses to corroborate Dylan’s story.”

“Wow, that’s some story
. How did your mom unearth all that?”

Jenna shrugged
. “You know Mom. If there’s gossip to be had, she wants to be sure she’s the first to have it.”

“Your mom’s talents are totally wasted on the antique industry
. She really should be a reporter, or maybe a private eye.” Tj glanced up as Kurt Brown came into the restaurant with two of his buddies in tow. “Does your mom know anything about Kurt’s new car?”

“Yeah, the rumor mill’s been abuzz all day. The word around town is that Kurt has hit the wall we most commonly refer to as a midlife crisis
. There’s even some talk that Alice isn’t really helping her sister but has up and left Kurt after his recent string of bad luck.”

“You think Alice would leave Kurt over financial issues?”

“Doubtful. But still, it’s strange that Kurt would buy a new car on the very day Alice leaves town.” Jenna paused. “Now I’m beginning to sound like my mother.”

Tj laughed
. “You are. Maybe it’s genetic.”

“God, I hope not.’

“It looks like the pizza is ready.” Tj nodded toward the waitress carrying over two large cheese pies. “I’ll go to the bar to get refills on our wine, you grab the girls.”

 

Chapter 6

Later that night Tj sat on her bed staring at the beautifully carved puzzle box that had been Zachary’s gift with a frown. It wasn’t the first time he’d given her such a box. In fact, having to work for her gift by following the clues provided in similar puzzle boxes had become an annual game they’d both enjoyed. The problem was that normally he’d provide a clue to get her started.

Traditionally the first clue, once solved, revealed a code that would open the box, which usually contained another clue, which would lead to some small trinket he’d hidden for her to find
. While the trinket was usually just something Zachary had laying around the house, Tj knew the real gift was the fun of the game they shared.

Tj remembered the first box Zachary had given her
. The riddle had been easily solvable, but the clue inside led to a month-long treasure hunt requiring her to track down additional clues he’d hidden in various places around the house. Prior to that treasure hunt, Tj had viewed Zachary as a lonely old man she’d occasionally visit because she felt sorry for him. But the game had intrigued her, changing their relationship from one based on pity to one based on a common love of games of the mind.

Zachary had taught her so much over the years: how to play chess and solve games of logic, how to both code and decode secret messages using a variety of techniques, how to look at a scene and notice what was odd or what was missing, how to decipher patterns and create hypotheses based on the limited facts he’d put before her
.

When she’d first met him, Tj had wondered if Zachary weren’t some sort of highly trained spy
. He certainly thought like one, and in her imagination she’d created childhood fantasies of a secret agent hiding out from his past. But as she grew older, she realized he was but a damaged man who had the intelligence to know how to use his imagination to fill his long, lonely days.

Tj sighed as soft jazz played in the background
. The pumpkin spice candle on her bedside table filled the room with a seasonal aroma, while a cozy fire danced in the small woodstove her dad had installed in the corner. Crissy, who seemed to have accepted her change in circumstance without so much as a nod, was curled up at the foot of her bed, while Echo lay snoring softly from his napping spot on the rug in front of the raised hearth.

The moment was perfect
. On any other night, with the wind whistling through the treetops and the rain pelting the window, she would have enjoyed the cozy feeling of security that comes with knowing the people she loved most in the world were safe and warm inside the sturdy log walls her grandfather had cut and milled himself. But on this particular night her heart was heavy as she stared at the box Zachary so lovingly carved but never had the opportunity to give her. He’d been so excited about the game. More so this time than usual. He’d indicated that the game they were to play was in some way different, more important, than others they’d shared.

“What ya doin’?” Gracie stood at the open door in her fuzzy footie pajamas holding Mr. Mops, the stuffed bunny she’d received last Easter.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?
” Tj glanced at the clock, which read eleven forty-two.

“I woke up and heard banging.”

Tj realized that the tree outside Gracie’s room was probably hitting the wall because of the strong wind. She could remember being afraid during storms when she was her sister’s age. She’d try to be brave, but in the end she’d sneak down the hall to her dad’s room and climb under the covers. He’d pretend to be sleeping, but he always shifted so she could cuddle up next to him as he snored away.

“Okay, hop on up and climb in.” Tj pulled back the covers.

“Is that your present?” Gracie looked at the object in Tj’s lap.

“Yeah.
It’s a puzzle box.”

“Don’t look like a box.” Gracie snuggled next to Tj to get a closer look at the cylindrical-shaped object.

“It’s a special kind of box,” Tj explained. “See how it has these sections with numbers that rotate?” She demonstrated how the box worked as Gracie looked on. “There are four sections and each one has ten numbers, zero through nine. The secret is to figure out the code and line up the numbers just right. Then the box will open and there will be a surprise inside.”

“Like a treasure?
” Gracie seemed fascinated.

“Yeah, exactly.”

Tj stared at the box and frowned.

“Something wrong?”
Gracie asked.

“My friend who built the box died before he could give me the clue to open it.”

“He didn’t leave a card?” Gracie wondered.

Of course, the card
. She picked it up from the bedspread and read it out loud. “ʻFor Tj, on our PERFECT day. As my life draws to a close and my days become numbered, I want you to know that you’ve been my sanctuary in an otherwise dark life.’”

“What’s a
sanctary?” Gracie set Mr. Mops aside to make room for Crissy, who had decided to curl up in her lap.

“A sanctuary is someplace that makes you feel warm and safe
. A place where you feel happy.”

“I feel happy and warm and safe when I’m with you.” Gracie leaned her head against Tj’s arm.

Tj smiled and pulled Gracie closer. She kissed the top of her curly head and let the scent of the soap and shampoo from her recent bath calm her soul. “I feel happy and warm and safe when I’m with you too, peanut. The luckiest day of my life was when you and Ashley came to live with us.”

“Maybe the clue is
sanctary,” Gracie suggested.

“Good guess, but we only have four numbers to work with and sanctuary has nine letters
. We need a word with four letters.”

“If the secret is a word, how come he made numbers and not letters on the box?”

“Well, you see, there’s a code.” Tj tried to figure out how to explain this to a five-year-old. “Like A is one and—”

“B is two,” Gracie joined in.

“Exactly.” Pretty quick for someone still in footie jammies.

“Can’t be a number?” Gracie wondered.

“Sure, I guess.” Tj hadn’t really considered that. Every other box Zachary had built for her had been opened by discovering the clue and the key that converted letters into numbers. But she supposed it was possible a number was just a number. The word numbered on the card appeared to have a line under it. Tj had assumed the mark was just a smudge, but perhaps Zachary had been trying to tell her to look for a number. “I guess it could be someone’s lucky number, or maybe a special date.”

“Like Christmas?” Gracie suggested.

“Yeah, or a birthday or an anniversary. An anniversary,” Tj realized. She picked up the box and arranged the numbers to read
1031
, Halloween and the anniversary of their first meeting. Nothing. She was so sure it was that. Still, Gracie might be on to something with the number idea. Zachary loved numbers. He spent a lot of time teaching her how to solve puzzles dealing with numbers. He used to tell her that numbers were the basic building blocks of the universe, and an understanding of numbers and their relationship to one another was important not just for mathematics, but for science and art as well.

She looked at the card again
. “For Tj, on our PERFECT day. As my life draws to a close and my days become numbered, I want you to know that you’ve been my sanctuary in an otherwise dark life.”

“Can I come in?
” Ashley was standing in the doorway dressed in a flannel nightgown with a picture of Cinderella on the front. Her long, red hair hung across her face as she curled the toes of her bare feet against the cold of the hardwood floor.

“Storm
wake you?” Tj asked as she turned back the quilt on her other side in welcome.

“No, I heard you talking.
” Ashley climbed up onto the bed and burrowed in under the warm covers. Tj realized Jenna was right; Ashley was more like her than she cared to admit. Like Ashley, as a child she’d never simply admit to being scared by a storm, which, Tj realized, was how the ritual of her dad pretending to remain asleep while she climbed into his big bed started in the first place. Tj accepted Ashley’s explanation about the noise in spite of the fact that her room was down the hall and she and Gracie had been talking quietly. She wrapped the covers around her sister and showed her how the box worked.

“We thought the clue might be in the card,” Tj explained.

Ashley picked up the card and read it. “How come perfect has all big letters?”

Tj took the card from Ashley
. “I’m not sure. Maybe Zachary was telling me to look for a perfect number.”

“Seventy three,” Ashley proclaimed
.

“How did you know?
” Zachary once had told her that 73 was his favorite number, but she was certain she’d never mentioned it to Ashley.

Ashley shrugged as she yawned
. “Can I have a glass of milk?”

“Sure, and then it’s off to bed.”

“Can Crissy sleep with me?” Gracie asked.

“I don’t see why not
. You’ll need to keep the door closed, though, so she doesn’t get out.”

“Okay
. I don’t think I’ll be ascared if she’s with me, but maybe we should turn on the night-light just in case.”

“I think that would be a good idea
. How about you?” she asked Ashley. “Need a night-light?”

Ashley looked at her as if she had just asked the most ridiculous question of all time
. “I’m eight,” she reminded her older sister.

“You’re right
. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Tj shuffled both girls out the door and down the hall toward their own rooms.

 

After getting the girls back to bed, Tj went down to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. Her dad and grandpa had long since gone to bed, so Tj tossed a log on the fire in the cozy living room. Settling onto one of the overstuffed forest green sofas that were arranged in a giant U in front of the fireplace, she settled into the cushions and pulled the handmade quilt her Grandma Maggie had made before she died over her tucked-up legs. The secret to the riddle had to be something findable. Zachary had never given her a clue she couldn’t solve. Of course, the answer was probably hidden somewhere in his house. Settling into a more comfortable position, she took a sip of her wine as Cuervo, the alcoholic tomcat she’d adopted two summers ago, jumped up on the sofa next to her.

“To what do I owe this honor?” she asked the testy tomcat, who usually scurried away if you tried to cuddle with him
. Tj had rescued Cuervo from a group of frat guys who had been staying in the campground and thought it would be funny to offer the stray a shot of their libation. Unfortunately the silly cat had enjoyed the tequila, and Tj had been struggling to keep him away from the hard stuff ever since. Cuervo let out a single yowl before curling up in a ball and laying his head in her lap.

Tj knew that in all likelihood Cuervo was simply jealous of Crissy and therefore establishing his territorial rights
. In a day or two he’d probably be back to growling at anyone who wanted to pet him, but for now she’d enjoy his company.

She absently scratched Cuervo’s furry orange head and thought about the glass she’d found next to Zachary’s chair
. She wondered what, if anything, it might mean. Her instinct told her that there was more to Zachary’s death than met the eye. He’d seemed adamant in his commitment never to drink from the bottle he kept locked in the cabinet. He’d said he kept it as a reminder of the sins of his past. Tj couldn’t imagine what could have occurred that would lead him to break that promise after all these years.

And then there was the bottle itself
. If Zachary had been alone in the house at the time of his death, where was the bottle from which he drank? It certainly didn’t get up and walk away on its own. Not that Tj had conducted a complete investigation for the bottle, but still, if Zachary simply poured a nightcap, then sat down for a drink, wouldn’t the bottle be nearby? It seemed like someone must have been with Zachary when he took that noteworthy drink. But who? And if Zachary did have a visitor, where was the second glass? Surely Zachary wouldn’t pour a drink for himself and not for his guest.

She remembered the unfinished chess game and the two containers of clam chowder
. Did Zachary’s mystery visitor have something to do with his sudden death? And there was the news that Lloyd Benson had reapplied for a permit to build his condominiums to consider. The project had been shot down before because of Zachary’s refusal to allow him access through his property. Her grandpa had speculated that Zachary might have sold, but Tj knew in her heart that he wouldn’t. Still, she had to admit Zachary had been acting differently lately. Could Lloyd’s project have anything to do with Zachary’s strange actions on the final night of his life?

Probably not, though Zachary had taught her to look at a situation and pick up on small details that others might miss
. He’d said that the answer to a mystery most often lies in the anomalies rather than the facts; figure out what isn’t there and you were more likely to understand what is. All of the clues pointed toward a second person being with Zachary on the night of his death, and Tj decided to find out who.

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