The Rock Star Next Door, a Modern Fairytale (34 page)

Lex shot him a look of surprise. “You can do this, so fast?”

“It helps speed up the process when you insist s
omeone’s life in danger
and it
s official police business.”

“You lied.”

“I exaggerat
ed. I am a former FBI operative
. You aren’t paying me to be a
priest. Y
ou’re pay
ing me for results. It c
ould have taken a m
onth for us to get this
a
nd learn
the phone calls coming into your fiancée’s home at all hours of the night are long distance,
from Wisconsin. Th
e number is listed under Jack
Kelly
,
Sr.
in Eau Claire, Wisconsin.
I did some background checks on your girlfriend, and I’m sorry to say--”

“It’s her mother.” Lex finished for him. “I knew that without you telling me.”

“Humm.” Rolly
paused, but only for a second. “
Do you want me to pursue this? I was thinking I could fly out to Wisconsin, do some checking around to find out why this woman is frightening your girlfriend so, sending her into cardiac arrest.”

“It was a panic attack.” Lex clarified, going down the list of calls from the distant town. The number was astonishing, and the hours were always very late, past midnight, or early in the morning hours, by California time. “This one
.
” He circled the one that occurred the previous night, when he’d been awakened from a nightmare about Jessie being in danger and finding it to be true. “Can you find out the contents of that call?”

“Only if the phone was tapped
or we have a recorded message from the answering machine, there’s no way of knowing except asking the parties involved. Could be talking a
bout a French lace wedding veil
or what color flowers to purchase. Remember, it’s a d
ifferent time zone there, a two hour
difference.”

“She was hysterical.” Lex tossed the papers back across the desk. “And Jack was really shook up, too.  Every time the phone rings now she cringes, she’s terrified.” He fingered his earring, holding Rolly’s austere gaze.

“Telephone harassment is a crimi
nal offense. Being the perpetrator
is her mother makes it touchy if you want to press charges. Ms. Kelly may wax sentimental and refuse to press
charges
. It’s an old story, but usually it’s spousal abuse, not parental.”

“I’m not interested in pressing charges. Not yet.” Lex crossed his arms about his chest, pondering what options he had open to him, where to g
o with the information given
. “I want to find
out more about this woman and w
hat kind of threat she poses to my bride.” He searched the ceiling for the answer, and then the mahogany desk before him. “Go to Eau
Claire.” He said at last. “B
e discreet
.
”

“Always.” Rolly touched the intercom, “Cindy, go ahead with the round trip
tickets
to Eau Claire. Thanks.” He returned his attentions to Lex. “Anything in particular you want me to look for?”

“The sister, Michelle. I don’t know her married name. She
told Jessie I was a Satanist. S
he tried to get her to cancel our wedding.”

“
Sound
s
like the whole damn family is certifiable.
Congratulations
.”

Lex ignored the
sarcastic
compliment, more concerned with getting to the bottom of Jessie’s family life. “Jessie and her brother ran away from home when they were teens. She told me that the parents never reported the
m missing. Check that out, and
there is an aunt named Rachel.” Lex filled him in on the phone calls of Mrs. Kelly, and the mysterious Rachel Johnson, to his own mother in Phoenix.

“Right.” Rolly scribbled the name
s on his pad. “And Ms. Kelly’s
sister, Michelle.”

“Find out
what kind of woman
Marcie
Kelly is. What kind of reputation she has with her social circle, and--” Lex paused, looking the man straight in the eyes.  “If she’s ever been investigated or charged with child abuse.
I want all the dirt.
” 

Rolly nodded gravely
. “I’ll be discreet
.”

“Another thing,” Lex rose. “If you call my house, don’t tell Jessie anything, just ask for me. You’re a business associate, that’s all I want her to know.”

They shook han
ds, and Lex left the
austere offic
es of Roland Gibson
.

Guilt nibbled at him as he drove back to Malibu from L.A
. Lex caught his reflection in the r
ear view mirror. He frowned at himself
. He
hoped
Jessie
wouldn’t resent him for having her family investigated
.
She
might take it the wrong way. She might t
hink he had reservations about marrying her instead of seeing it as his way of trying to protect her.

Their rough and quick tumble in the sack this morning also worried him, now that his blood had returned to a cooled state. Jessie wanted him, hard and fast, and he complied. He felt like a prick now, after thinking about the interlude. Oh, it was hot, damned hot. He enjoyed every second of it; of ravaging her at her request. And it felt a little strange to admit such a thing.
He chewed a
stray
lock of his hair
with worry as he raced up the Pacific
Coast Highway, back to Jessie.

*    *    *

Jessie
hated sneaking out the back door, but it was th
e only w
ay to get past Lex’s
housekeeper
without
incurring a lot of questions and stall tactics
.

Inez
was vacuuming the living room carpet. She had her back to the hallwa
y. Jessie
bolted for the
side
kitchen door with Duncan following close at her heels. Once outside, she scanned the street before scurrying across the lawn to her own front door.

If she’d hoped to remain inconspicuous, she wasn’t going to
get away with it. Sherry, their
housekeeper, stood in the kitchen mopping the floor. It was Wedne
sday, Jessie remembered
. Unlike Lex, who had a housekeeper come daily to pick up after him and cook meals, they had Sherry come in three days a week to do
laundry, tidy up the downstairs
and
the
bathrooms. 

“Look at you
.
” Sherry smirked, her brown snapping eyes full of amusement as she eyed up Jessie’s turquoise silk nightgown and robe.  “A night o
n the town and you come home with a blush on your cheeks wearing only
your bloomers
.
”

Looking down at her short silk nightie and matching robe,
Jessie smiled at the caustic brassy, fake red
head. Sherry was an old friend from their hungry days. A former waitress in downtown LA, she’d kept them fed on table scraps from other customers and looked the other way if the boys made off with the ketchup bottle or a couple of donuts from time to time. When they started making real money, they all agreed to repay her, but charity wasn’t something the tough as nails Georgia woman would accept.
She insisted on earning her keep, so they made her thei
r maid, paying her a full salary
while she only worked three ha
lf-days, from noon until 4 p.m.

“My old man is back in town.” The spry woman moved back and forth with her mop as she spoke. “Wants me to move back to Georgia with him.”

“Are you going to?” Jessie tiptoed around the wet spots to the fridge for a
f
rappuc
c
ino
.

“I don’t know. He’s an asshole.” She grinned. “But he’s got money now, so he says.” Sherry stopped mopping, giving Jessie a strange look. “You look bedazzled, kid. Did your boyfriend rock you to sleep?”

“No.” Jessie choked on her drink, wiping the cool taupe liquid from her
chin with the back of her hand
. “He’s really sweet.” She added uncomfortably.

“They all are, kid, when they’re feeling too tight in the jeans.” 

“What about you? Are you going to go back to Georgia?” Jessie changed the subject. “Do you still love Al?” Jessie asked, curious about the man Sherry had left years ago, but who came to see her, asking Sherry to come back to him every few months.

“He’s okay, when he doesn't d
rink. My girls live here
. I’d miss them.” Sherry wrung out the mop and leaned it against the corner of the cupboard. She grabbed her pack of
cigarettes, p
ulled out a slim white cylinder
and lit up. She sauntered into the living room, ready for one of her many breaks. “What do you think I should do, Kid?”

“Go with your heart.”

The older woman rubbed her chin with her thumb, balancing the cigarette between two fingers. “I already did that, Honey. That’s why I ended up moving out here, to get away from my aching’ heart
.
”

“H
e’s older now,
more mature
.” Jessie added. “Perhaps living without you has changed him.”

“Yo
u’re young. F
ull of dreams. M
en
grow older
but they
never change, sweetie, and you can’t depend upon them.” Sherry sighed, pacing the living room, indecision marring her brow about her own future with her ex-
husband. “They steal your heart and
they break it, and then they beg you to come
back to them after you’ve taped it back together again. I just don’t know
what
to do this time.
”

“You can always come back here if it doesn’t work
out
.”

The older woman looked at her as if she were empty-headed. 

“I swear it.
I’ll wire you the money if it doesn’t work
for you
in Georgia.”

“You’re sweet, Kid. Too sweet.”

“I mean it, Sherry. Yo
u were so good to us
.”

“Ha, I was just doing what anyone would do, givin
g some kids a few scraps
instead of throwing it in the dumpsters out back for the homeless to pick through
. That
hardly warrants a lifelong pension.”

“No one else
cared that we were starving. J
ust do it. You love him. A
nd he apparently loves you. He wouldn’t keep coming out here asking you to marry him again if he didn’t. He would have moved on by now.” Jessie finished her drink and rinsed the bottle out in the sink before placing it in the recycling bin.

The older woman shrugged.
“His business brings him out here every few months.” Sherry
squashed the remains of her cigarette
in the as
htray
and
brought the full offering out to the kitchen. “That’s the real reason he comes, not just to see me.”

“Well, there you have it. You can fly out with him and visit your daughters.”

“A
in’t the same.” Sherry dumped the ashes and then rinsed
the
ash
tray
under the kitchen faucet
. “You’ll see, Kid. You’ll have babies, and you won’t want to be half way
across the country, not knowing how they are, if they’re getting by, even when their grown up.”

The words stung, even though Jessie knew Sherry was a better mother than her ow
n.  A
sick feeling
grew deep
in her soul. What would it have been like to have a mother like Sherry? A mother
who actually wanted you around and
worried over you? Missed you and wanted you to come home?

Jessie mumbled an excuse and retreated to her room.

Stop it
, stop feeling sorry for yourself,
s
he commanded
as she stepped into the shower
. N
o sense pining
afte
r something that had never been
an
d would never be. As a child
she’d b
een envious of girls with kind
, benevolent mothers. The moms that
c
ared when you scraped your knee
or
if
the kid
s teased you. The mom
who sat n
ear your bed when you were ill
instead of going out to the bars
and
leaving you
home
alone with your twin brother, unco
ncerned that you might need her
in the night.