Tied With a Bow and No Place to Go (Tizzy/Ridge Trilogy Book 3) (18 page)

“No. At least none we’ve found.”

“Thank God. I guess your next question is did I have any
reason to kill him, and the answer is no. This is the first reunion I’ve
attended, so I hadn’t seen him since high school.”

“Did he ever have trouble with anyone? Male or female?”

“No. Everybody loved him. We girls even teased about the
bet. Some of us made our own wagers as to if he’d get a hundred percent or
not.”

“There was a bet?”

“More of a reward. The boys in our class chipped in and
agreed to give him five hundred dollars if he went all the way with every
senior girl before graduation. I thought he’d make it, but he didn’t. There
were two or three hold-outs. But he gave it his best effort. Are we done?”

“We are.” Ridge stood and so did Mary Jo.

“You have my info, if you need to speak to me again,” she
said. “Sorry, I wasn’t more help.”

Later that day, Ridge slid into a booth at Sweet Thangs and
eyed the pot of azaleas on the counter. Tizzy came from the kitchen and he
crooked his finger at her. “Hey, I see you got my flowers.”

She leaned closer and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Synola flitted by with a tray. “She got 'em all right. Lord,
I have never seen a woman get so turned on by a shrub.”

Tizzy grinned at him. “What will you be having today,
Officer Cooper?”

He wiggled his brows and matched her grin. “How about a
piece of my favorite cake and couple of Chocolate Whoppers to go. I may need a
snack later.”

Tizzy jotted down the items, then disappeared to the next
table.

Ten minutes later, Pattiecake hollered, “Order up!”

Ridge accepted cake and cookies from Tizzy and watched her
go to deliver other desserts. A few minutes later when she slipped a ticket
next to his plate, he thought it odd, since he usually didn’t pay. As she
strutted away, he called after her. “Darlin,’ I didn’t have coconut pie.”

She whirled around so fast she stumbled. “Mr. Barton! Don’t
look at your ticket!” she yelled, and rushed to take it from him.

Mr. Barton, already on his feet, strode to Ridge’s table,
gave him the tab and placed his hand on Ridge’s shoulder. “You lucky dog. If I
was twenty years younger, I’d hold your wife to that promise.” He snickered and
shuffled away.

Ridge smiled at Tizzy. The color drained from her face. He
read the receipt and winked at her.

Tizzy’s heart quickened when she saw Ridge’s vehicle parked
in the drive. Alone time for them was her way of getting his mind off the
stress of his job, and this case was proving to be more stressful than others.
Pattiecake agreeing to keep Gracie gave Tizzy two hours. She walked to the
passenger side of the car, hoisted her purse over one shoulder, gathered a bag
of groceries, and balanced the pot of azaleas on her hip. When she reached the
front door, she set the shrub on the porch, twisted the knob and shoved it open
in one motion, picked up the plant and called out. “I hope you’re naked,
because I’m going to give you. . .” She straightened and lost her breath.
“Hazel!” she said, gulping for air. “I didn’t know you were here. Where’s your
car?”

“Downtown at the service station. Ridge noticed a low tire.
Turns out, there was a nail in it. They’ll have it ready in the morning. I’m
sorry to drop in unannounced.” She regarded her son, then Tizzy. “And, I’m
sorry he isn’t naked. I’m sure he would be if I wasn’t here.”

Hazel and Ridge laughed.

Tizzy’s face heated. She froze in place. This had not been a
good day in the romance department. First her naughty note ended up in the
wrong hands and now she’d announced her sexual plans to Ridge’s mother.

He jumped to his feet, planted a quick kiss on his wife’s
cheek and carried the groceries to the kitchen.

Tizzy dropped her purse to the floor. The azaleas still
rested on her hip.

“Pretty flowers,” Hazel said.

“Huh.” She snapped from her trance. “Thank you. Ridge sent
them to me.”

“They’re pale pink. Any particular occasion?”

Tizzy followed Hazel’s gaze as she lowered her eyes, then
jerked her head back up. “No. God no. I’m not pregnant. He sent them to be
nice.”

“Oh,” Hazel sighed, her shoulders dropping.

“I have an idea, Mom,” Ridge said. “Why don’t you go next
door to Browning House and rest a bit? Afterwards, we’ll pick up Gracie and
grab a burger.” He crossed to the sofa and put his arm around his mother.
“Plus, that’ll give me time to get naked with my wife. Maybe I’ll get her
pregnant and make you happy.”

“Ridge!” Color rose in Tizzy’s cheeks.

“You shouldn’t be embarrassing your wife,” Hazel said, “but
I do like the getting-her-pregnant part.” On her way out, she slid her arm
around Tizzy’s shoulder. “A baby sounds so nice and I bet Gracie would love a
little brother or sister. No pressure, but something to consider.”

No pressure my ass.
For the life of her, she couldn’t
fathom the turnaround in the woman. A few months ago, Hazel decided Ridge was
making the biggest mistake of his life by marrying a woman he’d just met. Now,
she was joking about his sex life. Who was this woman?
I’ll ignore the baby
remark.
No need to get into a long discussion as to why she wasn’t ready
for another child. Instead, she picked up her purse and dug in it. “Here’s the
key to Browning House. Make yourself at home.”

Forty-five minutes later, Tizzy stood in the bathroom
doorway brushing her teeth and speaking around the foam. “How’d the interviews
go today?” She waited for an answer and when none came, she stepped to the sink
and rinsed her mouth, then crawled into bed, nuzzled his ear, and repeated the
question.

He moaned. “Oh, Darlin’, don’t ruin my afterglow. This is
the most relaxed I’ve been all day. Damn, I should buy you shrubs more often.”
With her fingertips, she made small circles on his chest. “That feels
fantastic,” he said, and rolled onto his belly. “Do my back.”

Starting between his shoulders, she slid her hand down the
length of his spine and up again. “Like that?”

“Mmmm, yeah.”

His eyes closed and his breath became shallow and even. With
a few more strokes, he’d be sound asleep and she didn’t want that, so she
stopped. “I snooped. I picked up your shirt and notes fell out, so I read them.
Jay Roy was a busy man. Do you believe he was that active?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And each ribbon color meant something?”

“Uh-huh.”

“At this point, do you have a stand-out suspect?”

“Uh-uh.”

She shook his shoulders. “Is uh-huh and uh-uh all you can
say?”

He flopped onto his back and eyed her. “Listen. I don’t want
to make you mad, but I’ve talked about Jay Roy’s pecker all I can today.”

Laughter caused her body to rock forward. She spurted
syllables “Th—at’s fun—ny.”

He wasn’t laughing and his peaceful expression disappeared.
Regaining her composure, she said, “Sorry. But that was a good one.” She wanted
to say more, but watched his jaw clench and release, so she decided to move on.
“I should go to the funeral home and see if I can get Jay Roy to talk to me. I
heard the body will be there tomorrow.”

Ridge focused on her with renewed interest. She recognized
the look, but before she could say anything, his phone sounded. She picked it
up and passed it to him.

“What? You’re not going to check the message? I mean, you’re
reading my notes, so I figured you’d be policing my calls, too.”

Her heart fluttered. “I’m sorry.”

He grabbed a lock of her hair and yanked it. “Gotcha,” he
said and chuckled. “I don’t care if you read my notes—or my phone. The
interview stats will be on the crime board anyway. Besides, I delete the calls
I need to hide from you.”

“Very funny, Mr. Smarty Pants.”

He checked the message. “Ted Mitchell wants to meet in the
morning. Hold on, he sent me something.” Ridge studied the document. “Well,
another dead-end.”

“What?”

“Ted says the test on the whiskey remaining in the bottle is
characteristic of drugs bought online or in Mexico. Damn! There’ll be no way to
track it unless we have the computer used to place the order or find a paper
trail.”

“What does that mean? How are the drugs different from US
drugs?” Tizzy asked.

“Not pure. Lots of trace elements. He’s seen them plenty of
times, so I trust his judgment.” Ridge texted and checked his watch. “Time to
get out of bed. We’ve got to feed my mother.”

“I’m embarrassed she knows we’ve been over here doing it.”

He rolled until his feet reached the floor and spoke over
his shoulder. “Darlin’, I’m pretty sure she figured out a long time ago we were
doing it. She was young once.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m not.”

“Now, you’re being funny.” He gathered her in his arms and
kissed her. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Want to join me?”

“Okay.” She scooted to the edge of the bed and slung her
feet to the floor. “You want me to try talking to Jay Roy?”

Ridge paused in the doorway and faced her. “Yeah, ask him
who he assigned the blue ribbon to.”

~~*~~

The following morning, after his mother left, Ridge
transferred the new notes to his iPad, and updated the crime board. He was
getting better with the electronic system of record keeping. Maybe soon, he’d
phase out either the notebook or the board. Who was he kidding? He liked using
the original methods too much to do away with them. Under the suspect column,
he added Neely Simpson, Janie Sue Clifton, Stella Chilton, and Mary Jo
Whittaker. Next, he noted each woman’s color and total under RIBBONS. Because
of the way the crime happened, he’d decided alibis were no longer important, so
he changed the heading to MOTIVE.

At some point, after he finished interviewing the female
classmates, if he’d not found a viable suspect, he planned to question their
husbands. He leaned his head against the couch and closed his eyes. In his
career as an investigator, so far, this case topped the list of most complicated
and unusual. If he considered basic human nature, every woman who’d ever had a
long term relationship with Jay Roy had motive.

Regardless of whether they’d been in love with him or not,
no woman wanted to be cheated on, and Jay Roy had never been faithful—to
anyone. Every muscle in Ridge’s body tensed with frustration. Not from the lack
of a lead, but because he faced another day discussing Jay Roy’s . . . he
grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck to ease the tension. He didn’t want to
start the day stressed. Stress caused headaches, like the one beginning to
throb at his temples. He sucked in a deep breath, held it, and released it. He
repeated the series. Hell, forget breathing techniques, he’d take some
ibuprofen.

When Ridge arrived at the police station, he found Ted
Mitchell sitting in the break room. In front of him, except for a small space
at the end, papers covered the table.

“Sorry I’m late. My mother showed up yesterday unannounced,
and I . . .”

Ted held up his hand. “Say no more. I understand. I met
Hazel at your wedding.”

“Damn. I wish I’d been at the ceremony.” Ridge thought back
and pictured Tizzy waiting at the church, while he sat in a box held hostage by
the girlfriend of a mob boss he’d sent to prison. Although Tizzy claimed a formal
ceremony wasn’t necessary, he wondered if she regretted not having one. He
shook the thought from his mind. After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he
joined Ted at the table. “So the Xanax wasn’t a legitimate prescription?”

Ted nodded. “Based on tests I’ve done in the past, that’s my
assumption. Too many trace amounts of weird drugs mixed with it.”

“I can’t track the drug that killed him, and I haven’t been
able to locate Pruett. This case is going nowhere fast.” Ridge couldn’t allow
himself to get discouraged. He’d been a cop long enough to accept sometimes
cases lasted months before solved. One lead was all he needed. Once he got it,
in his experience, one clue led to another, then another, until the evidence
came together like lines in a poem.

Ted picked up a file and passed it to Ridge. “This may help.
We ran the phone records for the past year as you requested and got some hits.
Several numbers came up multiple times. I sent the info to your email as well.”

Ridge opened the report and studied it. Well, he was in
contact with the three ex-wives. Then...” he hesitated, ran his finger down the
list, and continued. “I take it this number with no name listed is a burner
phone?”

“The tech guy said either that or one of those services you
can buy for your existing phones.”

“Okay. What else you got?”

“There were no DNA contributors on the quilt, other than the
victim’s. We’re not running all the ribbons, just a sample from each color. I
don’t have those results yet. That will take a while, considering the number
involved.”

Ridge sipped his coffee and stared at the stack of papers.
The phone records were beneficial. At least they gave him a place to start.
Kassie and Deborah lied about being in contact with Jay Roy, so he’d need to
follow up on that. But he had to consider their lies might have more to do with
hiding the truth from their husbands, than from him. “Did you run DNA on the
blue ribbon?”

“You should have those results in the next few days. Since
there wasn’t any evidence to suggest anyone else was at the crime scene, I’m
going to guess we find only his DNA. Ted stood. “Well, that does it for me. I’m
headed to Arkansas.”

“What’s going on there?”

“Wife’s family. If you need anything— don’t call me.” Ted
laughed.

“Enjoy your time. When will you be back in the office?”

“A week from today.”

“Thanks for getting this done before you left. I appreciate
it.” Ridge stood and shook Ted’s hand, then followed him to the door.