Tangerine Morning: Jezzica's Story (Serenity Cove Series) (20 page)

“This is hard enough without you playing games with me.” Her lips dipped into a frown that seemed to reprimand him for breathing.

“You’re going to have to trust me on this one. I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” He tilted his head with the same confused expression a dog has when he’s trying to understand a command.

“Susan on your deck in a bikini and in your arms.” Jezzica’s chest rose and fell. “Is that enough of a clue for you?”

Zack closed his eyes and groaned. “Not what you think.” He told her the sordid story, including Susan’s father being behind his suspension. He also shared his conversation with Catylen about the gunshots.

“I really blew it.” She reached for his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Can we try this dinner thing again?” He winked at her.

Her eyes lit with a smile. “It could be arranged.”

Jezzica motioned toward the door of the diner, then scooted over making room as the contractor slid in the seat next to her.

“Zack, this is Ron Newberry, my contractor.” The two men shook hands across the table.

Ron balanced his cap on his knee and raked his fingers through his sparse hair. “My crew swears the water was turned off when they left. We need to pick up supplies and reroute the pipes.” He looked at Jezzica. “I apologize. I’ll cover the damages.”

“What’s your assessment of the situation?” Zack turned toward Ron.

“At a minimum, it will involve repairing the bottom portion of some of the walls and replacing the flooring.”

Jezzica sighed. “Thanks, Ron. Care for some coffee?”

“I need to get going.” He stood and adjusted his cap on his head. “I’ll be here with my crew first thing in the morning.”

Jezzica watched out the window as he crossed the street, and brushed at a tear that escaped down her cheeks. “I could have lost everything.” She turned and stared into his eyes and he understood the full depth of her meaning. He thought he had lost her, too.

“I’ll take you home.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they left the restaurant.

After he dropped Jezzica off, he was tempted to check in with Logan, but the chief would’ve called if he’d received the reports. All he could do was play the waiting game. He hated this suspension hanging over him like a wrecking ball waiting to fall. The bullet he and Logan found could help if it matched the killer’s gun. But would it be enough? Louis Barclay was a powerful man. Not many went up against him and survived.

Chapter Thirty-two
 

“It looked much worse yesterday.” Jezzica surveyed the shop and then felt the area rug, still on the shelf. “It’s dry. That’s a good thing.”

Catylen ran her hand over the rug the way her sister had. “I’d call it a God-thing.”

“Good morning.” Ron came in from the back of the shop, dark hair sticking out from under his cap. “We’re getting ready to set up several industrial fans. We want to make sure the moisture dries so you don’t end up with mold issues.”

“How long will the repairs take?” Jezzica frowned at the mess her shop had turned into.

“You’re looking at a good two weeks.” Ron scribbled a couple of notes on a pad attached to a clipboard. “We’ll also need to check out the lower shelves.” Using his pencil, he pointed to the wall units.

“We’ll get out of your way and let you work.”

“No problem.” He turned back to the workers and Jezzica heard him giving instructions as she and Catylen left.

“I could sure use a break about now. Life keeps dishing it out.” Jezzica took a deep breath and blew strands of hair off her face. “I have an appointment with Dr. Ellie in twenty minutes.”

Catylen pulled the strap of her bag up onto her shoulder. “Seriously?”

Jezzica laughed at the surprised expression on her sister’s face. “That shocked you, didn’t it?”

Catylen playfully smacked Jezzica’s arm. “Yeah, wait until Dr. Ellie gets a hold of you.”

The sun was much warmer and the air filled with tangy smells of the sea as they returned to the strip of cottages along Shoreview Drive.

Approaching their house, Jezzica slowed and looked at Catylen. “Want to come with me?”

She shook her head. “I love you, but counseling is one on one, at least most of the time.”

“Wish me luck.” Jezzica strolled past Zack’s to Dr. Ellie’s cottage. She raised the knocker and hit the brass plate.

“Hi, Jezzica.” Dr. Ellie stepped back, holding the door. “Come in.” She bent down and picked up the dog prancing in circles at her feet.

Jezzica was greeted by the aroma of
cinnamon and brown sugar floating from the direction of the kitchen. The décor had a beachy feel with sea blues and soft whites—a room that invited you to put your feet up and stay awhile.

“This is Precious.” The little cocker spaniel wiggled in her arms, and Jezzica reached out and ruffled her buff-colored fur.

“It’s a gorgeous day. Let’s go outside.”

Through the opened French doors, a serving tray sat on the patio table with glasses and a crystal pitcher of lemonade. Dr. Ellie picked up the decanter and filled two glasses, handing one to Jezzica.

“Our cottage is right at the turn and although we have a great view, it isn’t quite this spectacular.” Jezzica moved near the railing. “Not that I’m complaining. Serenity Cove is a paradise.”

“That's why Gerald and I chose to retire here.”

“Look.” Jezzica chuckled and pointed at two sea lions on the craggy rocks below. They looked to be playing a game as they slid into the water, romping in the waves.

“I could lounge out here for hours, but we should get started.”

Jezzica nodded and grabbed a lounger across from Dr. Ellie.

Dr. Ellie reached out and Jezzica grasped her hand. “Father, thank you for your beauty that surrounds us. Please be with us as we seek to sort out life and work to become the women You created us to be. Amen.” Dr. Ellie leaned back. “How’s the bookshop coming along? I heard about the flooding.”

“Quite a disappointing setback—it’ll delay the reopening until the end of June—possibly even July.”

“So the damages are repairable without too much hassle?”

“There is that—it could have been much worse.” Jezzica sighed. “Life sure has a way of handing out challenges.”

“I assume the water incident at the bookshop isn’t why you’re here?”

Jezzica chewed on her bottom lip. “You’re right. Geoff’s killers are behind bars—why isn’t it easier? One minute I’m moving forward and the next moment an invisible hand grabs my shirt collar and drags me choking back into a dark pit of despair.”

Dr. Ellie nodded. “You’re referring to dating?”

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘I’ll love you till the end and then forever’? Geoff included that in the marriage vows he wrote for our wedding.” Tears fell onto her shirt.

Dr. Ellie pulled Jezzica up and held her. “It’s good to let it out.”

“How do I get past this?” Jezzica pulled a tissue from the box nearby and wiped her face.

“The grieving process doesn’t hold to a schedule.” She picked up Jezzica’s glass and offered it to her. “Take a moment to breathe.”

Jezzica took a sip as Dr. Ellie suggested and sat the glass back on the small table. “I remember getting my car stuck in the mud and having to call a tow truck to pull it out. Now emotionally, I’m spinning my wheels and just digging deeper into this pit of grief.”

“After your husband’s death, do you recall going through the motions, trying to get through each day?” Dr. Ellie’s soothing voice made it easy to talk to her.

“Yes, like my whole nervous system had fallen asleep. I wanted to withdraw from life.” Jezzica rubbed the back of her neck.

“Then the numbness morphed into intense pain?” Dr. Ellie ran her fingers through her own short, wispy auburn hair.

Jezzica nodded. “One day I went into our bedroom and the pain was so severe that I collapsed onto the floor, sobbing.”

“Tell me about the pain now.”

“Less. But there are still many difficult days. Last week was Geoff’s birthday, and I didn’t want to get out of bed.”

“Of the seven steps of grief, you seem to be in the acceptance stage, often the most difficult step. It’s the struggle of trying to let go and cling to the past at the same time.”

“Exactly. I take a step forward and guilt pulls me back.” She stared out at the sea. “There’s someone I‘m interested in. Only how do I justify betraying the love and life I shared with Geoff?”

“Moving on after the death of a spouse can be traumatic. It’s important to realize that the goal is not to forget your husband, it’s to move past the incapacitating grief.” Dr. Ellie reached into a bag sitting on the floor near her chair and pulled out a folder. “I put together some material for you to read on the stages of grief. Once you understand the steps, it helps you work your way through the process.”

After the session, Jezzica made her way home, emotionally drained, and still conflicted and confused. She had made another appointment, but fear crowded in, making her unsure whether she could ever let go. Unsure whether she could ever love again. Unsure whether going out with Zack made sense given her emotional state.

Chapter Thirty-three
 

Zack pulled into the lot of Mick’s Bar and parked near Logan’s truck. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Peanut shells crunched under his feet as he walked over and slid into the rustic wooden booth across from Logan. The afternoon crowd was already settling in as a game blared on the wall-mounted television set.

“I take it you have the reports?” Zack grabbed a peanut from the basket in the center of the table and crushed open the shell.

Logan shoved the papers to him. “The casing matched the killer’s gun, the same gun used in the murder of Geoff Leigh.”

“So when’s the committee going to lift my suspension?” He continued to flip through the pages of the report.

“Not that simple. Seems Vincent Faraday was married with three small children. His widow has filed a wrongful death suit, claiming you used excessive force in his arrest, which resulted in his death.” Logan’s jaw tightened. “It’s going to take more than a casing to fight this battle.”

Zack stood. “This reeks of Barclay. And I intend to get to the bottom of it.”

They were only a few steps out the door when Logan stopped and turned to Zack. “Don’t do anything stupid. You have to follow legal protocol or you’ll end up going down for the count.”

Zack peeled rubber leaving the parking lot. He had no plans of playing fair. He had heavy ammunition and he intended to use it.

He passed the Mariner Bay city limit sign just before dusk. He punched Susan’s number into his phone and waited for her to answer. “Hey, Susan. You up for dinner tonight?”

“Why would I have dinner with you?”

“We didn’t part on good terms—thought we could talk.” His stomach churned at the implication that he wanted her back.

“I guess, but I have plans later, so don’t go getting any ideas.” Her voice took on a teasing tone.

“Your place, say fifteen minutes?”

“Don’t keep me waiting,” she purred into the phone.

Zack shook his head and pulled over at a florist. He arrived at Susan’s penthouse apartment with a gold box of orchids, her favorite flowers. She rang him up and he stepped into the elevator.