A mild breeze, the first of the season, greeted Georgia as she left her apartment the following Monday. Grimy piles of snow on both sides of the road oozed water into gutters, and kids splashed in the puddles that formed. Sadly, the thaw wouldn’t last. Chicago weather was as fickle as that wind-borne feather in the Forrest Gump movie.
She drove back to Northbrook and parked in the lot of Camping Unlimited. She pushed through the door and went to the customer service desk where she’d had the conversation with Gail. The young Woody Allen guy was nowhere to be seen, and the desk was unmanned. One of those steel call bells you see in hotels sat on the counter, and when Georgia pressed down, it chimed cheerfully.
A young woman with blue and green hair, black nails, and a nose ring emerged from a back room and hurried over. She appeared to be younger than Gail but older than Woody.
“Sorry. I was in the back.”
“Love the hair.” Georgia smiled.
“Oh, thanks.” The woman fluffed her hair on one side. “I did it over the weekend.”
“It makes a statement,” Georgia said. “Are you Jackie?”
“How did you know?”
“Gail told me I should talk to you.”
“She did?” Jackie’s tone made Georgia think the two women weren’t best friends.
Georgia nodded. “You sold a yurt to a man, I think around Christmas. His name was Scott Allen Jarvis. Do you remember him?”
She worried a hand through her hair. “The name sounds familiar.”
Georgia didn’t say anything.
“Jarvis, Jarvis . . . Hey. Isn’t that the man who shot the woman a few weeks ago?”
“You keep up with the news.”
“It was horrible. Never in a million years did I think I’d see something like that in Chicago. In Grant Park.” Her eyes went wide. “Wait a minute. Is that the guy I sold the yurt to?”
“I’m pretty sure it is. I have some questions about him.”
Jackie went rigid. Then she hugged her arms. “Oh my God. Oh my God.” Her voice rose. “Am I in trouble?”
“Don’t worry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Are you a cop?”
Georgia tried out her most reassuring smile. “No. I’m an investigator. Private.”
Jackie’s eyes were still as round as plates. “Holy shit.”
“I’m working for the family of Dena Baldwin. The woman who was killed.”
Jackie bit her lip. “Of course, I remember that sale. Happened right after I started. I got a huge commission. Biggest one I’ve gotten.”
“Can you pull up the bill of sale on your computer so we can check the details?”
“Sure.” She clicked a few keys and waited. Then: “Okay. Here it is.”
“When did he buy it?”
“December twenty-first.” Jackie said. The pitch of her voice went down, and she seemed calmer.
“How much did he pay for it?”
Jackie’s gaze went to the bottom of the monitor. “Hold on. There’s a second page.” She pressed a key. Then she blew out a breath. “Wow. Over four thousand.”
“Nice Christmas present for himself.”
“It was really high-end. All kind of extras. But—wait a sec. I don’t think he paid for it.”
“Is that so?” Georgia leaned over and propped her elbows on the counter.
Jackie fingered one of several earrings in her left ear. “He was with a woman.”
Georgia dug out a photo of Kitty she’d found on Google when she did a background check. “Is this the woman?”
Jackie took the photo and studied it. “I can’t swear to it, but I don’t think so.”
Georgia was taken aback. She had been confident that Kitty had bought Jarvis the yurt. “Are you sure?”
“The woman with him was . . . different.”
“Can you describe her?”
“Lemme see. She seemed average. You know, height and weight. No makeup.”
“What color hair?”
Jackie looked out, trying to concentrate. “I don’t know. She was wearing a hat. You know, one of those wool caps.”
“Eye color?”
“I couldn’t tell.”
“Clothes?”
“Sorry. She was wearing a coat.”
“Brand? Color?”
“It wasn’t a North Face. But it was gray.” She cocked her head. “Maybe his girlfriend. Did he have one?”
“I’m not sure. Were they—was she affectionate? Holding hands, that kind of thing?”
“I don’t—wait. Now I remember. No. He went off to look at sleeping bags.” She waved vaguely toward another part of the store. “And she paid.” Jackie shot Georgia a triumphant look, as if she’d solved a particularly knotty problem.
Georgia’s pulse raced. “Did she use a credit card?” A bill of sale could be subpoenaed. The credit card number would be on the paperwork.
Jackie frowned. “No. Says here it was cash. Oh, right. She paid with a check.”
A check could be subpoenaed, too. “You’re sure?”
Jackie nodded.
“Who ordered all the add-ons? I mean it cost four thousand dollars, right?”
“Right. Like I said, it was my best commission. Lemme think. I think they had a list when they came in. Oh wait, I remember. They kind of argued about a couple of things. She thought they weren’t necessary. But he wanted them.”
“What were they . . . those couple of things?”
“Hold on.” She went back to the computer monitor and scrolled down. “Um . . . extras, mostly. Looks like he got a yurt cover. For the outside. And a stove inside. Oh, and an extra window.”
“So he got everything he wanted?”
“Pretty much.”
Georgia pulled out Kitty’s photo again. “And you’re sure it wasn’t this woman?”
She grimaced. “I just don’t know. I only saw them for a few minutes.”
“Did you hear them call each other by name?”
Jackie shook her head. “Not that I remember.” Her cheeks flushed. “I’m not helping you, am I?”
“You’re doing great. Really.” Georgia smiled. “Okay, aside from the address on record, did they talk about where the yurt was actually going to be set up?”
Jackie shook her head. She looked like she might cry. “I’m so sorry.”
“Does the expression ‘beef jerky’ mean anything to you?”
“Huh?”
Georgia repeated it.
“The stuff you eat? Um, no.”
“Neither of them mentioned it when they were here?”
“I don’t remember. Then again, why would I?”
Georgia smiled her thanks, gave her a card, asked her to call if anything else came to her. On her way out Jackie exclaimed, “Hey, I just remembered. He said he would be taking it up north. A lake, he said. Near the family cabin.”
Georgia backtracked, instantly focused. “Did he say where ‘up north’? What lake?”
A distraught expression came over Jackie. “I’m sorry.” She rubbed one hand up and down the other arm.
“It’s okay.” Georgia cracked a joke. “There are only about a thousand lakes up north.”
But Jackie’s face collapsed. She looked as if she’d missed the last train out of Dodge and had to face the bad guys alone.