Chapter 35

Jazz lingered in bed after her alarm had gone off. She felt for her phone on the nightstand and lit up the screen, checking the news as she always did briefly before starting the day.

The national news was as depressing as always, so she swiped past that to reach local coverage.

A picture of Gary Ackerman, alias Freddie Blain, featured at the top of the headline article. No surprise his arrest had made the news, given how much the press had been following the events at the fair. Hadn't been pretty seeing the police surprise Freddie at his food stand and cuff him.

The look on his face had kept her up for a while last night. Shock. Hurt.

Jazz had almost felt guilty, given her part in the whole thing. The PK-9 Agency was responsible for his arrest, since Cora had been the one to tell the police his true identity, prompting the arrest for sabotage and the murder of Aunt Joan.

But right after his initial shock, Freddie—Gary—had become angry instead, shouting that the police were letting the guilty get away with murder. Poor man had been seriously messed up by the death of his son. It was like his life ended when his son's had.

Jazz had spotted Hawthorne talking to Gary briefly before the police put him in a squad car. But she hadn't heard what they'd said. And she hadn't been able to catch Hawthorne after that, thanks to the detectives questioning them about Gary, too.

"You awake?" Nev appeared in the doorway, her curls freed of her satin cap but the rest of her still clothed in the tank top and cotton shorts she wore as pj's. She carried two mugs of something steaming in her hands.

"Coffee?" Jazz slipped out of bed and hurried around it, her hands stretched toward Nev. "Knew I kept you around for a reason."

Nev swung the mug away from Jazz's grasping fingers. "What's the magic word?"

"Um, please?" Jazz pasted on an exaggerated smile.

"And ‘thank you,' but that will do, I guess." She put the mug in Jazz's grip with a grin.

"You've been spending way too much time with your nieces and nephews." Jazz took a sip of the hot coffee, not minding the little burn as it slipped down her throat.

"I let all the dogs out, and they're back in, chowing down breakfast."

Jazz gave Nev a grateful smile. "I figured, since Flash didn't wake me before my alarm for once. Thanks."

"Did you see the news?" Nev's mouth formed a straighter line as she looked at Jazz.

"Yeah. It's hard to swallow. He seemed like such a nice guy."

"Been there."

Jazz tensed, hoping Nev wouldn't wander too far into her frightening memories.

But Nev's expression was calm. Didn't look like she was going to have a PTSD episode. Even though Jazz knew she must be thinking of her own attacker who'd also played nice before revealing himself to be a monster.

Nev drank from her mug, then lowered it. "Cora texted. Phoenix got to watch the detectives question Ackerman last night."

Jazz walked to the end of the bed and sat down. "Did he admit anything?"

"No." Nev went to sit beside Jazz. "Cora said he kept insisting he only used the false name so he could investigate his son's death and find the person he thinks killed him. He apparently didn't break any laws by using the name Freddie Blain. He really is Jim Morris's cousin, so he didn't put his fake ID on tax documents or anything like that. Cora didn't think the police would be able to hold him beyond seventy-two hours."

"Did he offer any names? Who he thinks killed Sam?"

"I guess he mentioned Best Life, the cult, but I don't really know what he said about that."

"It's really sad."

Nev angled toward Jazz. "You sound like you don't think he's guilty of the sabotage. And Aunt Joan."

"I don't know. He could be." Jazz ran her finger along the mug in her hands. "Aunt Joan said he was super angry after Sam's death and blamed the fair." Jazz blew out a breath. "Maybe he could've blamed Aunt Joan personally since she was General Manager at the time."

Nev nodded. "He could've killed her on purpose because he thinks she let his son die."

"Hard to imagine. But at least if he did it, the danger would be over now."

"What does Hawthorne think about Gary as the culprit?"

Jazz shortened her sip of coffee and swallowed before answering. "I don't know. I didn't have a chance to talk to him after the arrest." She grabbed her phone off the bedspread. "I'll text him. He gets up early, too." She smiled as her pulse pumped a little faster. "You know, we really have a lot in common."

"I talked to him yesterday."

Jazz glanced at Nev. "You mean after Freddie—I mean, Gary—was arrested?"

"No, earlier. About you."

Jazz's stomach clenched. Though she shouldn't be surprised. Nev was protective in the extreme. And, for some reason, she'd decided Hawthorne wasn't right for Jazz. So of course, she'd go poking her nose where it didn't belong.

Nev folded her leg onto the bed to face Jazz more fully. "Do you love him?"

Good thing Jazz hadn't been drinking her coffee at that moment. She might've spit it out. But the answer came quickly, shooting from her heart to her mouth. "Yes." The realization of what she'd already, secretly, known to be true filled her with warmth from her belly to her chest and outward to all her extremities. She didn't have to look into a mirror to know her smile was beaming. "Yes, I do love him."

Nev looked away. "That's what I was afraid of."

The happiness spreading through Jazz halted as if it hit a hard wall. "I don't understand why you don't like him."

"It's not that I don't like him."

"Then why can't you be happy for me? I was happy for you with Branson."

"It isn't the same."

Jazz pushed off the bed and stalked a few steps away. "Yes, it is."

"Jazz, Hawthorne isn't right for you. He doesn't want to commit to one person, let alone one location."

Jazz jerked toward Nev, irritation sparking. "Did he tell you that?"

"He told me he's never had a long-term relationship and that he doesn't want to get married."

Jazz crossed her arms and turned away. "Tons of men say that until they fall in love with the right woman." She heard Nev approach her from behind.

Nev put her hand on Jazz's bicep. "But he doesn't even believe in marriage. At least not for him. He says a lifelong commitment is one of the most dangerous things. He called it being trapped."

The words stung, even though Jazz refused to believe they were true. Nev was probably taking them out of context to make Hawthorne sound worse. She spun to face Nev. "Why were you even asking him about all that?"

Nev's thick eyebrows lowered as her voice raised. "Because I'm worried about you. We watch out for each other. Always."

"It doesn't look like you're watching out for me." She glared down at Nev. "It sounds like you're trying to ruin the one good thing that's happened to me."

"But it's not what you think." Nev lifted her hands out from her sides in a frustrated motion. "Did you know he's a Christian? Even if he suddenly decided he wanted to get married, he wouldn't marry you because you're not a believer."

"Oh, great. I wondered when it would turn into that. An ‘us' and ‘them,' and I'm not in the ‘us' anymore, right?" The truth of her own accusation pierced Jazz's heart.

Nev shook her head, the anger in her eyes softening. "It's not like that. I just mean he wouldn't want to marry someone he doesn't agree with on the most important things, and you shouldn't want that either."

"Don't tell me what I should and shouldn't want, Nevaeh." Jazz brushed past her to the bed. She crouched beside it and pulled her suitcase out from underneath, flopping it onto the bedspread.

"What are you doing?" Surprise laced Nev's voice, but Jazz didn't look at her as she stalked to the dresser along the wall.

"What does it look like? I'm going back to my apartment. Where I should've gone a long time ago."

"Jazz, don't do that. The danger to you might not be over yet."

"Sure it is. Haven't you heard? They arrested Gary. He was probably trying to kill me because he thought I knew he knocked off Aunt Joan and sabotaged the fair."

"You don't know that. And you don't sound like you believe it."

Jazz shot a glare in Nev's direction. "I do know that it doesn't matter. We're not on the same side anymore. So it's past time for me to go back to my own place."

"I can't believe you're doing all this because of a guy." Nev's voice tightened, stretched with emotion. "You don't get it. He is leaving." She emphasized the last word as if Jazz were an idiot. "He told me himself he's going to Idaho as soon as the fair is done."

Jazz gritted her teeth as she threw her clothes into the suitcase.

"He just said that yesterday, Jazz. Knowing you hasn't changed him at all. It hasn't changed that he's leaving you."

…leaving you. A prick of pain stabbed Jazz's heart as Nev's last two words echoed in her ears. She kept packing. Held her voice level as if she wasn't fazed at all. "I know he's leaving when the fair ends. I told you that before. If he still wants to go when it's over, I'll go with him."

"Jazz." The pain in the one word nearly drew Jazz's gaze to Nevaeh. "You wouldn't. We've always dreamed of living in the same town. Being together all the time."

Jazz closed her eyes, pressing her fists into the stack of T-shirts she placed in the open suitcase. That had been their lifelong dream. A dream put on hold only because of her dad's plans for Jazz's life, the military service she was supposed to do, then his unexpected illness that led her into a different kind of service for him.

When he'd passed and Jazz came to the Twin Cities, even getting to reunite with Flash thanks to the job at Phoenix K-9, she and Nev had finally been able to start living their dream. And it had been a wonderful dream. Until she woke up.

"You wouldn't really leave me, would you?" Nev's question, her pained whisper, surged tears to Jazz's eyes.

Jazz turned toward her friend, the person who'd been the most like family she'd ever had until now. "You already left me, Nev." A tear escaped and coursed down her cheek, the wet drop clinging to her chin. "For Branson."

Nev opened her mouth, her eyes glinting like she was going to protest, switch back to fight mode.

Jazz lifted a hand and spoke to stop her. "No, Nev. I am happy for you, but it's changed everything." She bit her lip to hide its quiver as Nev met her gaze, dark eyes melting into softness as moisture filled them, too. "I only want to find someone like you did. Someone to love me. And I think I have found him. Can't you please just be happy for me?"

Barks from the front of the house made her start. Flash and Alvarez.

"Hey, boys." Branson's deep voice carried easily to the bedroom, and there wasn't another peep from the dogs who both loved the man. He must be returning from his early morning workout. "Nevaeh? You here?"

Jazz watched her friend, hoping she'd say something. Say she supported Jazz with Hawthorne. That she understood and wanted Jazz to be happy. That she loved Jazz just as much whether she was a Christian or not. And that she'd always love Jazz and support her no matter what decisions she made and who she chose to spend her life with.

But Nevaeh didn't say any of those things. She pressed her lips together, swiped away the moisture on her cheeks, and walked out.

Jazz stared at the empty doorway, barely hearing the sounds of the happy couple greeting each other as she reeled from the rejection. Her best friend. Her sister by choice. And she'd sent a message without words that she was done with Jazz.

Swaying, Jazz turned in time to sink to the bed next to her suitcase. Her chest stung, right where Nev had torn out a chunk of her heart.

Flash rushed in, his tail wagging as he jogged around the bed to Jazz and rubbed his wet chin on her lap.

"Just you and me again." But as she spoke and gently rubbed Flash's ears, hope slowly returned. She had Uncle Pierce and Hawthorne. Two men who had shown they cared about her. One her real family and the other the man who'd hopefully want to become her family someday.

She smiled as the ache in her chest dulled. Getting to her feet, she went to the dresser to grab the rest of her things. "Come on, Flash. We need to get ready for the adventure of a lifetime."

The screen of Hawthorne's smartphone lit, catching his eye.

He grabbed it off the desk beside his keyboard, eager for some excuse to stop trying to eke out words for his Jazz Lamont book. No flying fingers on the keyboard this morning. Probably thanks to his conversation with Nevaeh last night about the woman who'd inspired his heroine.

Rebekah's name flashed on the screen, and he slid his finger across the glass to answer. "Rebekah, hi."

"How could they arrest Sam's dad?" Her tight voice cut across the line.

Oh, boy. She must've seen it on the news. Should he have told her first? It'd been too late last night to call or text.

"That won't help anything. It won't help us find Sam's killer." Desperation pitched her tone higher than normal.

He tried to think of something calming to say. "It's not as bad as you think. They won't be able to hold him unless they have some evidence he did the sabotage. They were acting on the discovery of his fake identity, probably hoping it would lead to a confession or more evidence. But they'll have to release him if neither of those happen."

"He's not going to confess." Indignation strengthened her voice. "He didn't do anything. He would never have killed that woman, the manager. And he wouldn't have put other people in danger."

"I appreciate you want to think well of him, Rebekah. But how do you know that for sure?" Hawthorne had to keep an open, objective mind. Even though his gut was telling him Rebekah was right.

"I just know. He's Sam's dad. They're good people."

Hawthorne didn't respond to that emotionally based judgment. But the panic was starting to infuse her tone again. He had to try to tamp that down if he could. "I talked to Gary last night, and he swore he was only there to investigate Sam's death and find the killer."

"See? That's exactly what I'm saying."

Hawthorne tapped a key on the keyboard with too little pressure to depress it. "He also told me his theory that someone killed Sam and hid the body until after closing, then moved the body to the Logboat Adventure ride." Which exactly echoed the theory Hawthorne had been favoring, as well.

"Yeah. That must've been the way it went down. Can't you prove it somehow?"

"I'm going to try." Examining the smoking area where Sam had last been seen would hopefully reveal something new. Or something helpful, at least.

"But, Rebekah, we do have to consider Gary could be lying about his innocence. He has a strong motive because he blames the fair and Patch for Sam's death. Sabotaging the fair and blaming it on Patch would be the perfect revenge."

"No. I don't believe that."

Hawthorne could almost hear her head shaking in denial on the other end of the line.

"I hate that he's in jail. If we can find the person who murdered Sam, we could get Gary out of there right away." A slam, perhaps from a car door closing, sounded in the background. "Maybe I can help. Maybe if I go to the fair, I'll see something that only somebody close to Sam would notice."

"There's no need for you to do that." And much safer if she didn't, given how dangerous the fair was. Especially when someone was targeting Hawthorne and Jazz because they were investigating Sam's death. The last thing he needed was for a killer to go after Rebekah, too. "I have it covered. What I learned from Zeke changes everything. Now I know where Sam was last seen, and I'm confident that will lead me to what really happened. And who was involved." He might be overrepresenting his confidence level a tad. But he had to try to keep Rebekah from accidentally putting herself in danger.

"If you say so." She sounded somewhat appeased, but not convinced.

The temptation to tell her about the risks and more strongly caution her not to go to the fair pressed against his closed lips. But he had no right to limit her freedom.

She'd left her family behind to secure that freedom, as he had. To rob her of that would be to strip her of the most valuable possession she had.

No, he wouldn't try to control or limit her choices. He'd simply have to find Sam's killer before his sister tried to take matters into her own hands.