Chapter Nine
The next morning around ten, Jazzi was surprised to see a text from Theo Carstead. Meet me at the bell tower on your break?
Hmm. What could Theo want to discuss? She should find out. Maybe they could be friends after all. She texted back. At two?
He sent a thumbs-up emoji.
Before she slipped out of the store, she told Erica she was going to take a walk and she’d be back in half an hour. Erica gave her a probing look but didn’t ask questions. She did seem to have a sixth sense. She’d probably developed it with her kids.
Lakeview Boulevard was busy with tourists dawdling as they enjoyed the weather and the relaxed atmosphere. So much in Belltower Landing this time of year was all about the tourists, pleasing and catering to them.
Jazzi crossed the boulevard at a light and headed for the green. Often anyone who worked in the shops and downtown businesses brought takeout with them to the benches for lunch or breaks. She’d buy a wrap at the deli after her meet with Theo.
He was waiting by the arch at the bell tower, dressed in jeans and a red tee. Jazzi tried to gauge his expression. He wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t frowning either. His unruly hair waved over his brow and dipped over his hazel eyes.
As she approached, he stood straighter and motioned to the closest empty bench. She joined him there and they sat side by side about four inches apart.
“This isn’t awkward at all, is it?” Jazzi quipped.
At that Theo tried to suppress a smile. “Not much. Look, I understand somewhat why you don’t want to date. I’m not much more than a tourist here for the summer.”
“I’m glad you understand. I truly didn’t intend to mislead you.” Studying Theo’s cleft chin, she thought again about how handsome he was . . . how it would be easy to be attracted to him.
His shoulder brushed hers as he turned toward her on the bench. “The bottom line is that you were honest with me. I can respect that. So I made a call to Evan Holloway’s publicist.”
Her jaw almost dropped. Finally, with her senses coming alive again she asked, “You did?”
This time Theo gave her a full smile. “I did. I spoke to Phil about Evan’s schedule when he comes to town for the Welcome Summer Festival. He’d left time for Evan to check out the shops. In other words, to be seen as an ordinary guy. So they can fit in a visit to Tomes and Tea. It will be some time in the afternoon on Saturday. They’ll give me a heads-up right before it happens.”
“Oh, Theo, thank you! That’s wonderful news.” She wanted to hug him but didn’t think that was wise given the circumstances.
After his eyes studied her for a few moments, he said, “You’d better soup up your music history section on your shelves. Evan’s thoroughly immersed in it.”
“I can do that. In fact, I have the opportunity to pick up books at an old house. There’s a whole library of books on all subjects. The owner was a history buff. Who knows what I might find.”
“Do you want company? It could be a joint venture. After all, you might need someone to carry the books.”
As she studied Theo, she wondered if they could be friends simply for the summer. After all, he’d done her and her shop a huge favor. Dawn was going to be thrilled, and Jazzi was grateful to propel Tomes & Tea to a new level. “Sure, you can come with me. We might even find a valuable book in the lot. You never know.”
“No, you never know,” Theo agreed. “It sounds like fun. Text me the deets when you have them.”
She would. She found she was even looking forward to the outing.
* * *
“This is only one of his estates,” Estelle whispered to Jazzi as they made their way from the circular driveway to the huge double front door of Joseph Covino’s residence. Even driving up the lane from the road, Jazzi could see the immense lake house with its creative stonework, peaked roofs, glass, and decks. It was everything a lake house should be and more.
Last night Estelle had phoned Jazzi and said, “I received an invitation from Joseph Covino to meet with him at his house, but Harry won’t go with me. I asked Delaney but she has client meetings tomorrow. Will you come with me? I want to find out more about him. Brie would have wanted that.”
Jazzi hadn’t been so sure what Brie would have wanted, yet she knew Estelle needed to do this. So here they were at this beautiful house on Lake Harding. The property achieved privacy by being bound by arborvitae hedges.
One side of the mahogany double doors opened and Joseph stood there with a somber expression. “I’m so glad you could come. Come in.”
Jazzi and Estelle walked into the ceramic-tiled foyer. With a welcoming gesture, Joseph motioned them through a wide arch into the open concept layout. Gazing straight ahead, Jazzi at once was enthralled by the cathedral ceiling and the wall of glass at the other end of the great room that faced the lake. A formal dining room to the right of the great room also looked out over a deck.
Muted voices came from the kitchen area. Turning that way, Jazzi caught sight of a svelte blonde who could have been around fifty. She wore plenty of makeup to hide the lines Jazzi guessed were there. With her was a young man around Jazzi’s age. He had a deep tan and almost white long hair, probably bleached by the sun. He wore his hair tied back with a leather band. With his head bent to the woman beside him who was younger, he looked like an older brother telling his sister a secret. That was confirmed when Joseph introduced his family.
Beaming toward the kitchen, Joseph beckoned to his wife. “Connie, come meet Estelle Frazier and Jazzi Swanson. Estelle is Brie’s mom, and Jazzi was her friend.”
The three of them came from behind the marble-clad kitchen island. Connie extended her hand to Estelle but there wasn’t any particular warmth in her eyes when she said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
It was an automatic condolence.
“These are Connie’s children—mine too—Damon and Andrea.” Joseph capped his stepson’s shoulder. “I have the pleasure of working with Damon every day. He joined me at my investment firm two years ago.”
“It took him a few years until he trusted me,” Damon wisecracked.
His mother admonished him. “Damon!”
“You know he’s right, Mom,” Andrea chimed in.
Joseph smiled at his stepdaughter. “Andrea is still trying to find her path.”
“I found it,” Andrea snapped, her purple highlighted bob swinging along her cheeks. “I’m going to design pontoon boats.”
“Good luck getting a job,” Damon quipped. “It’s a good thing Joseph can keep you in designer bikinis.”
“What about your Tesla?” she shot back.
Connie looked embarrassed, the first genuine expression Jazzi had spotted on her face.
“Come on, you two. We’ll let Joseph have some privacy with his guests.”
“You don’t have to leave . . .” Joseph began.
“We have court time scheduled,” his wife said, crossing to Joseph and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll see you later. I’ll whip up some of those espresso martinis you’re so fond of when I get back.”
And just like that, after a flurry of good-byes, Joseph’s family left.
Dressed casually today in jeans and a pink polo shirt, Joseph looked right at home in his surroundings. With the ease of a good host, he directed Estelle and Jazzi to the modular arrangement with the sofa and chaise near the windows. He took the comfy-looking massage chair at the fireplace. “They’re always on the run,” he said of his family. “Some weeks I hardly see them with my work schedule.”
Up until now Estelle had been quiet, obviously taking in the Covinos’ lifestyle. “You should make time to be with them. You never know when that time will be taken away.”
He nodded. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I never expected to find someone to love when I was in my fifties. I should appreciate Connie, Andrea, and Damon more.”
“How long have you been married?” Jazzi asked.
He didn’t seem bothered by her question. “I married Connie eight years ago. I adopted her kids officially around six years ago.”
“When we adopted Brie,” Estelle said, looking sad, “I was told that her mother died in childbirth. There were no relatives who could take care of her so she was put into the foster system. Harry and I had been trying to adopt for a few years, and we found her. It was wonderful. She was wonderful. Can you tell me what happened? Why she was put up for adoption?”
The silence was oppressive until Joseph rubbed his hand over his face. His history was obviously difficult.
“I was a graduate student at Princeton when my girlfriend, Gilda North, got pregnant. She lived in Belltower Landing. We’d spent a few weekends here. I married her and I told her I’d stand by her. But she died in childbirth. Her parents had been killed in an accident. She didn’t have anyone. My mother and father were divorced and traveling separately. I didn’t know what to do. So I gave up Brie. It’s not a pretty story, and I should have taken more responsibility then, but I didn’t. It’s good to know Brie had a good life with you. Even though I was happy with Connie and my new family, I felt guilty all these years. I had moved here and I couldn’t stop thinking about my little girl and what happened to her. When I turned sixty, I subscribed to that adoption website that fostered reunions. I couldn’t believe it when I connected with Brie . . . that she’d been looking for me too.”
“She told me you emailed a few times before she came to meet you.”
“That’s right. Then we met here and we spoke for hours. We connected. I started to love her that day.”
Jazzi couldn’t help but ask, “Did Andrea, Damon, and your wife meet Brie then?”
“No. But they did during my next meeting with her the following morning for brunch. Andrea seemed to connect with her, though Brie was older. It always takes Damon longer to warm up to people, but I’m sure he would have loved Brie eventually.”
Although she shouldn’t judge from first impressions, Jazzi wondered about that.
There were framed photos of Andrea and Damon on all the tables and on the bookshelves—pictures of them on boats, in kayaks, and swimming. Joseph noticed Jazzi looking at the photos.
“I like to have reminders around of what a fortunate man I am . . . to have this family. But . . .” He hesitated and he turned to Estelle. “Do you have a photo of Brie that I can frame and hang? I’d like to have one here. I had every intention of changing my will to include her, and I told her that. I wanted her to be my real daughter, not someone I’d met and then let pass through my life. I told her I’d give her my medical records, but I never had a chance to do that, either. I’m so sorry about that. I’ve been calling the police every day to find out if they have any leads. But they don’t.”
“Maybe you calling them will make more of an impression than me calling them,” Estelle said, obviously certain of that fact.
What Joseph had said about including Brie in his will had caused Jazzi’s chest to tighten. What if that was the reason Brie had been murdered?
* * *
Still feeling embarrassed about her pretense with Theo, Jazzi agreed to let him drive her to the property where she could choose the books she wanted before the rest went to auction. He pulled up in a flashy yellow BMW convertible that had a slightly green tint to it.
She slipped into the leather seat, catching the scent of his cologne—musk and patchouli. “Cool color car.” She suddenly realized being a DJ for important clients must pay well.
“It’s called Sao Paulo yellow. I wanted something distinctive.”
“Do you know where we’re going?” She’d given him the address but wondered if he was familiar with the area.
“GPS is great for that,” he quipped.
She laughed.
“No parties out here, if that’s what you mean.”
Jazzi soon saw that “out here” was a drive into the forest about fifteen miles away from the center of Belltower Landing. She hadn’t really explored this area where several multimillion-dollar properties were located. As they drove, Theo talked about some of the parties he’d helped rev up with his deejaying expertise in Reno, Las Vegas—and Nashville, where he’d met Evan Holloway.
“He’s really an upfront guy,” Theo assured her. “He’ll take his visit to your store seriously. He loves to interact with fans. He’ll never forget those days when he started out with an audience of ten.”
They talked about music. Theo listened as she revealed how she’d refined her taste in music from her preteen years in Florida to high school favorites in Willow Creek to her college years in Delaware. By then they were driving up a winding road through white pines, birch trees, and soaring oaks.
The two-vehicle road they’d driven on ended in a wide driveway with a four-car garage. The house, built in the 1930s, was traditional yet rustic, wood atop stone that rose three stories high.
Theo whistled. “What a beauty.”
“I’d seen photos,” Jazzi said, “but they could never capture this. The house is pretty much empty except for the library,” she added. “The owner believes books should be available to everyone, especially the classics. He already donated stacks to the library but they didn’t have room for more. He doesn’t want to see the rest trashed. Dawn’s parents hooked us up. I can take what I want to sell.”
“Are you going to need a truck?” Theo joked.
“Actually no. Apparently boxes are available in the house and the owner will have them delivered to Tomes and Tea.”
“That’s service.”
“From what Dawn told me he’s an old-fashioned guy. He just wants his property handled well. The real estate agent will be staging the home this week, then it will be put on the market.”
At the thick, wide, oak-paneled door, Jazzi rang the bell. She could hear it echoing from inside the house.
The door opened and Jazzi faced a man who Dawn had described as old . . . in his seventies. “Mr. Thurgood Denten?”
“Yes, indeed,” he responded. “You must be Jazzi. I spoke to the Fernsbys about you and their daughter Dawn.”
“Dawn’s managing the store today, so I brought my friend Theo with me to look over the rest of your books.”
“Splendid,” Mr. Denten said, now shaking Theo’s hand. “I have vinyl records in the collection too. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in those? The library didn’t want them.”
“I’m certainly interested,” Theo said. “I have a huge collection of vinyl.”
“Feel free to take what you like. Even my grandkids don’t want them. Let me show you to the library.”
The house was as magnificent inside as it had been outside. Those large Palladian windows let in tons of light. The foyer’s terrazzo floor led into a hallway. To the right was a massive living room with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the forest and the land to the side of the house. Mature bushes and shrubs dotted the landscape from holly to hinoki cypress to blue spruce at the border. Since Jazzi’s grandparents had owned a nursery, she recognized many trees, plants, and shrubs.
The left led to another living space with a monumental fieldstone fireplace. Beyond that, Jazzi glimpsed a gourmet kitchen with top-of-the-line appliances and a huge breakfast nook. The hand-cut stone finishes, the rich wood floors, and the high ceilings made the home grand. But as they entered the library, Jazzi didn’t think anything was as grand as this. It was two stories. A wooden staircase led up to the mezzanine-like area that also had shelves of books. A massive carved desk sat downstairs in front of more bookcases filled with tomes and tomes. Jazzi couldn’t wait to start looking through them.
As soon as Mr. Denten said, “I’ll leave you to it,” and left, Theo turned to Jazzi. “This place has more books than your bookstore.”
Jazzi could spot the empty shelves, the gaps where books had been taken out to send to the library. “Imagine growing up with this.” Her voice was filled with awe. She was automatically drawn to a shelf with leather-bound volumes. She pulled one from those that had slipped to the side as if one or more had been taken away from the shelf.
“Have you ever read Treasure Island?” she asked Theo.
“Afraid not. Books weren’t a big part of my childhood. I suppose somebody read you Goodnight Moon, or whatever the latest thing was back then?”
He was teasing but she answered seriously, “One of my favorite bedtime stories was Good Night, Baby Bear. A mama bear finds the perfect spot for them to go to sleep for the winter but baby doesn’t want to fall asleep.”
“And did you fall asleep?”
“It must have worked. I’m a normal kid, right?”
He laughed. “I remember music. My dad played everything—Miles Davis, the Beatles, Dave Brubeck, Rihanna, Eminem, even Faith Hill. You know her song ‘Breathe’?”
“I do. I’m all over the place now with Spotify—country, pop, alternative. As a preteen, I was into Maroon Five and Adele. Then later Ed Sheeran, and of course Taylor Swift.”
He laughed. “Of course.”
She’d moved to another shelf that was a mixture of hardbacks and paperbacks. “Oh, Mary Stewart!” she said with admiration. “This Rough Magic . . . The Crystal Cave. I might have to keep that one for myself.”
“No clue,” Theo said as he moved toward wider shelves that held vinyl albums. He started fingering through them, then pulled a few out. “You really don’t care about the vinyls?” he asked.
“No, not for Tomes and Tea. You can take what you want. There used to be a store where I lived called Guitars and Vinyl. The store was filled with plenty of guitars and lots of vinyl. I used to go in there now and then. My mom knew the manager. I had a small vinyl collection at one time, but when I left for college I sold them back.”
Before she turned to go up the stairs to the second floor of shelves, she studied the desk. “Look at this desk. My stepfather would love this. He crafts his own furniture.”
“Is it anything like this?” He looked at the engravings on the drawers.
“No. He does mostly kitchen islands with reclaimed wood and granite, that type of thing. He’s good. But that feels like an entire life ago.” Before she started up the stairs, Theo put his hand on her elbow.
“You’re fun to be around. Are you sure you’re not dating anybody?”
“I’m really not.” Looking into Theo’s handsome face, she actually thought about dating him. He was a good conversationalist, and they were having an okay time. Still . . .
She remembered the hurt after Mark had broken up with her. She remembered the death of her adoptive father to cancer and how hard that was to get through. She remembered how she’d felt after she found out her biological father had been killed in service in Afghanistan. Her heart just didn’t want to take the lumps and bumps a relationship would bring her. It was as simple and as complicated as that.