On The Edge Page 4
“Yeah, I know. I finally got her talked out of that. Someone's behind the spooky happenings she's experienced, I'm sure of it. First thing tomorrow, I'm going to speak with Cooper's lawyer. Someone must have been set to inherit everything before Joss showed up. That's the person I suspect.”
The chief nodded. “Sounds reasonable. If you need back up, let me know. Edward was a good man. I was surprised to learn he had a daughter. He never told me about her, but his lawyer verified it. Now I see why he kept it a secret.”
“You didn't know her mother was black?”
“No! But that explains a few things. I couldn't figure out why he never mentioned the girl.”
Jake scratched his chin. “If race was such an issue with him, why would he sleep with her mother to begin with?”
“Well now,” the chief said with a raucous laugh, “Why does any man sleep with a particular woman? Shall we count the reasons?”
“Not necessary.” He tried to change the subject. “So, do you know the lawyer?”
“Watkins? Sure, we've met a few times.”
“What's your take on the guy?”
He shrugged. “Seems decent, for a lawyer. I've never dealt with him, but never heard of any problems, either.”
“Okay, just wondering.” Jake moved back toward his desk. “I'm going to take off.”
“Me too,” Taylor followed him, glancing out to the reception area. “Sorry you have to hold her hand this weekend. Hope you get things settled soon.”
“No problem.” He pretended to straighten his desk so the boss would leave ahead of him. He didn't feel like making introductions, and couldn't take any more apologies for being forced to spend time with Joss. There was no place he'd rather be.
A couple of minutes after Taylor left, Jake went to the front of the office. “I'm ready. Thanks for being so patient.”
She deposited the magazine on a table and stood. “No problem. Was that Chief Taylor?”
“Yes.”
“He was in a hurry.”
Jake smiled. “He doesn't like working Sundays, either. He's got two small children.”
“Really? I thought he was my father's age.”
“I think he is. He also has a couple grown children from an earlier marriage.”
She nodded, and they headed out. “What about you, Jake? Never wanted to go the wife and family route?”
He grimaced. “That's a loaded question. Let's just say, I may have wanted to, but circumstances always seemed to get in the way.” He opened the car door for her, and she got in.
He entered his side and she continued, “Was that a yes or a no? Do you want children?”
“'Course I do, eventually.” Starting the engine, he drove to a restaurant he liked, for an early dinner.
“When the circumstances are right?”
He couldn't help but smile again, and glanced over at her. “I guess so. What about you? Are there little ones in your future?”
“Eventually. I'd like to do a few more things with my life, first. Mama wanted me to become a nurse, like her, but I could never get past the emptying bedpans part.”
He parked at the Seafood Shack, and turned to her. “I'd imagine it's a lot more rewarding than that.”
“Sure it is, but it's not very glamorous. I'm not one to shy away from work, but personally, it's just not my thing.”
“Fair enough.” He escorted her into the restaurant, where a young, gum-snapping waitress seated them. They ordered crab legs and beer, and he continued talking. “What would you like to do with your life?”
“I don't know. I've had lots of jobs, but nothing that ever truly excited me.”
The waitress brought their beers, and Jake raised his glass in a toast. “Here's to discovering what excites you.”
She snickered. “I'll drink to that!”
He grinned over the rim of his glass, and they drank. Their food arrived, and they ate while continuing to chat.
After dinner, they walked down to the bank of the river. The temperature was mild, with the hint of a crisp autumn nip in the air. The late afternoon sun caused reflections from nearby businesses to glisten off the water in bright, twinkling spots.
“It's so pretty here,” she said, in a dreamy tone.
He slipped an arm around her waist. “You're the pretty one. You look even better out here in the fresh air, away from the house.”
“I feel good. I wish we didn't have to go back.”
He held her by the waist, turning her to face him. “We don't have to, tonight. We could go to my place and forget about things for awhile.”
“I'd like that.” She curled one hand around the edge of his shirt and raised her face.
He bent, lowering his mouth to hers. Their kiss was slow, lingering, and Jake hated to pull away. The idea of taking her back to his place was exciting. He was ready to go. “Mmm, you taste like crab and beer. Two of my favorite things.”
She smiled, still clutching his shirt. “Wonder if there's room for movement on that 'favorite things' list?”
“Oh yeah,” he replied, leaning in for another kiss. “I feel things shifting already.”
With reluctance, Jake let go of Joss long enough to drive back to his house. It was a short distance, but by the time they got there, he was ready to burst. The evening ahead held great promise.
Joss glanced around as he led her to his front porch. “This is nice.”
“Nowhere near as big as your place.”
“Not as scary, either.”
He couldn't argue with that. He unlocked the door to his ranch-style home, and they stepped in.
“Oh Jake! I love the way you've decorated.”
It was a modest bachelor's dwelling, but he'd furnished it in a Southwestern motif with careful attention to detail. The shades of blue and brown were his favorite, and he was pleased that she seemed to like it. He thought it looked good, and he felt comfortable there. “Thanks. I like it.”
“You know what I like? Not one wild animal in sight.”
He tossed his keys on the table and grinned. “Well, maybe one.”
She giggled and faced him. “I think I can handle him. If he plays his cards right, that is.”
Jake shook his head, backing her into the hallway. “I don't want to play cards.”
“Oh yeah?” She stood on tiptoes, slipping her arms around his neck. “What do you want to do?”
He pressed his mouth against hers. “I want to make love with you,” he murmured, their lips touching.
She wrapped one leg around his butt, pulling him closer. “I want that, too. More than anything.”
He lifted her from the floor, and carried her to his room.
Chapter Five
At six a.m., on Monday morning, Jake's alarm clock buzzed. He slapped it off, rubbed his eyes, and glanced around.
Joss slept soundly next to him. No loud noises to disturb her. She'd probably gotten her first good night's sleep in weeks.
I did, too. That was for damn sure. Making love with Joss was exhilarating and exhausting. When he finally allowed sleep to take him he was relaxed, and more sated than ever in his memory.
He rolled against her, kissing her neck. “Good morning.”
“Not morning yet,” she replied sleepily.
“Okay.” He planted one more kiss on her nape, then moved away. “I have to go to work, anyway. You might as well sleep.”
“Sleep, mmm…” She nestled into the pillow.
Jake grinned as he slid out of bed, tossing the covers over her sleeping form. He admired the view for a moment. Sprawled in his bed, hair tousled, softly snoring, she looked sexy as hell. Unfortunately, he needed to spend tonight in her house looking for the source of that damnable noise. Hopefully, there'd be time for other things later. Shuffling to the bathroom, he closed the door behind him.
* * * *
There was a weekly meeting he needed to attend at the office and some paperwork to dispense. He briefed Taylor with the most pertinent
details of Joss's case, then drank some coffee while making small-talk with the other detectives. When nine a.m. rolled around, he knew the lawyer's office should be open, so he phoned Joss on her cell.
“Hey there,” she answered.
“Is it morning yet?” he teased.
“Barely. Where are you?”
“The office. I'd like you to call Roland Watkins about getting a copy of the will. If he doesn't want to play nice, I can get a subpoena. I don't imagine that'll be necessary.”
“Okay. Should I say we'll pick it up?”
“You bet. Ask him what time this morning we can stop by, and call me back. If he balks, tell him to expect a call from the police.”
“Oh, I love having muscle.”
He chuckled, then spoke quietly into the phone, “What's left of my muscle, after that workout last night, is all yours.”
“Mmm,” she purred. “I hope you bounce back quickly. I had hopes for a repeat performance tonight.”
“Me too.” He glanced up as someone passed his desk. “I, uh—okay, call me back.”
Joss chuckled. “I will.”
He punched his phone's off button, truly hoping Roland Watkins wouldn't cause trouble. The lawyer had to know any resistance would raise suspicion. Jake hadn't met him, but already didn't like the guy.
His phone rang, and he answered it quickly. “Gilford.”
“Hey, Gilford,” Joss said. “Watkins said no problem. Give his secretary twenty minutes to make a copy.”
“Great. Here I was, worrying for no reason. I'll swing by to get you. How soon can you be ready?”
“Anytime. I'm about finished raiding your refrigerator.”
“Find anything good?”
“Some yummy cinnamon-raisin bagels, but no tea. I'm having caffeine withdrawal.”
“There's coffee.”
“Not that desperate.”
“There's no tea, that's a fact. Sorry.”
“It's okay. I'll get some when we get to the house.”
“You don't have to go, you know.”
“Aw, Jake, I know you're trying to protect me, but I've got a lot to do. I need to finish going through my father's things, and I might as well do that while you're at work.”
“Whatever you say. I'll be there in fifteen minutes or so.”
“See you then.” She smacked a kiss into the phone.
He smiled and hung up. Jake checked in with his boss and the clerk who kept track of detectives. He drove to his place, where Joss was waiting on the front porch swing.
“Hey.” She climbed into his car and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “How's it going?”
“Not bad. I'm anxious to get a look at this will.”
“You know where his office is?”
“Yeah, I looked it up.” He drove to the lawyer's office, and Joss went inside. She returned a few minutes later with a large envelope stamped legal document. “Excellent.” Jake leafed through the papers. “Let's go to the house. I want to go over this thoroughly.”
“Sounds good to me.”
At the mansion, he settled on the sofa, will in hand. Joss fixed herself a glass of sweet tea and joined him. “You want anything?”
“No thanks,” he replied, already reading. Wills were full of legal mumbo jumbo. He needed to get to the good stuff—the who, and what, of it all.
She sat in the chair next to him, picking up pages when he set them down. “Here we go.” Jake waved a page in the air before reading from it, “All portions of the estate, including real estate, stocks, bonds and investments, are bequeathed to my sole heir, Jocelyn Renee Wheeler. In the event she precedes me in death, the estate goes to the charitable institution of Save Our Wildlife.” He glanced up. “A charity? If you don't get it, the money goes to charity?”
“Wow,” she murmured. “A nice gesture. Suppose a crazed gazelle somewhere is trying to off me?”
“It seems unlikely.” He grabbed his pen, making notes. “Save Our Wildlife. I've never heard of it. I'll need to check it out.”
“You think it's a bogus charity?”
“Don't know. It's a place to start, though. Let me go through the rest of this.”
She nodded, while he continued reading. There was nothing unusual in the last pages of the will. Roland Watkins was named executor, with one of his associates as the legal counsel. There was some legal jargon about why Watkins couldn't do both—conflict of interest, blah, blah, blah—and a breakdown of fees for each position.
They seemed in line with the little Jake knew about wills. He'd handled his own father's estate, and before that, helped sort out some legal stuff when his mother died. His parents were simple folk, so there hadn't been much to divvy up. Edward Cooper's estate easily ran to the millions.
“Hmm.” He set the last sheet down and rubbed his eyes. “Interesting. I've got some research to do. I don't suppose you have a laptop?”
“Sorry.” She shook her head. “I've got a computer at home, but don't use it that much.”
“You're kidding. I'd go nuts without mine.”
Joss shrugged, smiling sheepishly.
He stood and grinned at her. Leaning down to kiss her neck, he said, “I'm going to take off for a while. I'd like to take the will with me, see what digging I can do.”
“It's all yours.”
Jake glanced around. “Actually, it's all yours. Stuffed bobcat, elk antlers and all.”
“Um, yeah, about that. Can you look up someone who might want to buy that stuff? If I can't sell it, I'll pitch it in the garbage, but I might as well try to make a buck.”
“Like you really need it,” he teased.
She laughed, shaking her head.
“I'll work on it. Will you be okay here for lunch? I can take you out to dinner.”
“There's some pizza left over. I can eat that for dinner,” she corrected. “You can take me out to supper.”
“Southerners.” He rolled his eyes, grinning. “I'll see you later. Think about what you want for supper.”
“Yes, sir.” She saluted him, eyes twinkling.
He paused to admire her for a moment, winked, then left.
* * * *
Jake pushed the chair back from his desk and stood up to stretch his legs. Several hours had passed while he surfed the Internet. When the office was quiet, he barely noticed the passage of time. Now his legs were cramped, his back stiff.
He went to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. It was bitter, but he needed the pick-me-up. He hadn't stopped to eat once he hit on the information he was looking for.
There were several buyers in the Kansas City metro area for Joss's animal menagerie. If she wanted to, she could bargain for the best price. He'd take her the information he printed out. She could make some calls and decide.
There was plenty of information, online, regarding Kansas law pertaining to wills. It wasn't illegal for the lawyer to be executor of an estate, but it wasn't considered the best move. A separate lawyer and executor were usually prudent, and in everyone's best interest. Of course, each person would take a percentage of the estate, usually three to seven percent, before the funds were distributed.
Save Our Wildlife was a bit harder to pin down. They were based in Florida, if the post office box address on their meager website was accurate. The site listed three names as officers. Ross Whitcomb and William Rust had extensive profiles on the Internet. Jake's search engine pulled up several articles on each of them. Mostly business news, the men kept busy and appeared legitimate, involved in several Florida outfits. He never saw them mentioned in conjunction with Wildlife, but that didn't necessarily raise a red flag.
The third man, Eugene Tuttle, was more of a mystery. Searching for him on the web was futile. Even Google turned up nothing. Jake made notes on the items he wanted to follow up on, and Tuttle was definitely one of them.
The main thing that bothered him about the charity's website was the lack of information explaining what they actually did. There were pictures of ani
mals, suggestions of ways to help animals, even a click here button for someone chomping at the bit to make a donation. But nowhere did it say what Save Our Wildlife would do with a person's hard-earned money.
Jake tossed his paper cup and stretched. Tomorrow, he'd make some calls and delve deeper into the charity. So-called charity. He wasn't sure he was convinced. One and one didn't add up to two in this case. He had to find the person behind the organization. Unless there really is a crazed gazelle trying to off Joss.
He smiled to himself, checked out for the day, and drove to her place. His stomach rumbled, and he wondered where she might like to eat. There were several good restaurants close by. He wasn't picky, just hungry. He knocked loudly before entering the foyer of the big house. “Hello?”
“Where in the fuck have you been?” Joss screeched.
Jake ducked as a hardback book whizzed past his head.
Chapter Six
“What are you doing?” He covered his head with his arms as a second book found its mark, hitting his wrist.
“I've had it!” she stormed, stomping around the room.
“Joss, what is it?” Jake tried to follow, reaching for her, but she evaded him.
“You said you'd be back. I've been waiting here for you.” Her voice was steely.
He stepped in front of her, shocked at what he saw. Her hair stood out, frizzy and wild. Glazed, glassy eyes stared back at him. He'd seen her like this one other time, agitated, but not as angry. “Sweetheart,” he said carefully. “I said I'd be back for dinner—supper—whatever you call it. The evening meal.”
“That was a week ago!” She took a swing at him, arm flailing wildly.
He dodged her fist. “Joss... Jocelyn... What are you talking about? I left you here this morning.”