A Dead Husband (Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery) by Anna Burke Page B
Authors: Anna Burke
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too.”
“Glad to do what I can . Bye, Jessica.”
“Bye , Uncle Don.”
As soon as she hung up the phone she began to worry about her plan to visit the house . Would digging through Roger’s stuff put her in the way? She didn’t think so. As an attorney she was no rookie at plowing through and organizing documents, including financial information, contracts, and that sort of thing. Laura had to figure out where she stood financially and the sooner the better. There was no getting around the need to take care of loose ends related to Roger’s business and Laura hadn’t looked at his books in months.
Jessica would do her best not to trash the place when she went through Roger’s home office and gathered all the records . But that had to be done. And Laura couldn’t get by without some of her things from the house either. Jessica added the name of the detective and a few other bits of information to her notes from the conversation with Uncle Don.
The next thing she needed to do was call Tommy and get him to bring her car back . There wasn’t much room to haul anything in her mother’s Porsche. Tommy wasn’t a morning person but she didn’t think 11:00 was too early to call. She wanted to be on her way as soon as she got cleaned up and had some lunch.
The uneasiness she carried with her these days began to creep back into her psyche, eating at her resolve to get moving . Maybe she should just stay out of it, sit and wait to see what the police came up with. Maybe this, maybe that, nothing but maybes. Closing her eyes, Jessica used the breathing techniques her shrink had given her to stave off spells of anxiety. Jessica was still deep in thought when she heard Bernadette’s voice at the patio door behind her.
“Somebody’s here to see you Jessica.” As Bernadette spoke a shadow fell over Jessica. She looked up and into the smiling face of the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life.
CHAPTER 8
“Jessica I’m Jerry Reynolds . Paul sent me.” As he spoke he held out his hand for her to shake it. She took his hand and resisted the urge to kiss it, like he was a pope or a king or something. Jerry Reynolds had to be six-four or thereabout, with broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw and blindingly white teeth. He was dressed informally in jeans and a deep red t-shirt topped with a loose fitting, light-weight long-sleeved shirt in a dusky green. His features were symmetrical, with a perfectly proportioned nose right out a Da Vinci sketch pad, and full sensuous lips.
His dark hair was cut in a style reminiscent of old Hollywood . The sort of cut that George Clooney and John Hamm, in the Don Draper character on Mad Men, made popular again. Most startling, though, were piercing green eyes with little crinkly laugh lines at the edges. Those lines made you believe the smile was the real deal and a common occurrence on his lovely countenance. Jessica had a kind of loopy grin on her face, and hoped she wasn’t drooling. She was transfixed. It was like she had been transported into one of those old Rock Hudson and Doris Day movies her mother loved to watch. Coming to her senses she gave his hand a little shake and let it go.
“Please, have a seat . Paul sent you? What do you mean?” Jessica asked with her brain still in slow mo. She still wasn’t sure who this guy was but didn’t much care.
“I’m sorry, if I wasn’t clear . Paul Worthington said he told you he’d get in touch with me and that I might be able to give you a hand with a murder investigation involving a friend of yours. Did I get that right?” He sank gracefully into the lounge chair next to her. As he sat down he removed the long-sleeved shirt, revealing well-developed biceps bound by the edges of the t-shirt. Stretching out his long legs, he propped up his cross trainers on the ottoman. His head was sort of cocked to one side, bemused puppy dog
“Glad to do what I can . Bye, Jessica.”
“Bye , Uncle Don.”
As soon as she hung up the phone she began to worry about her plan to visit the house . Would digging through Roger’s stuff put her in the way? She didn’t think so. As an attorney she was no rookie at plowing through and organizing documents, including financial information, contracts, and that sort of thing. Laura had to figure out where she stood financially and the sooner the better. There was no getting around the need to take care of loose ends related to Roger’s business and Laura hadn’t looked at his books in months.
Jessica would do her best not to trash the place when she went through Roger’s home office and gathered all the records . But that had to be done. And Laura couldn’t get by without some of her things from the house either. Jessica added the name of the detective and a few other bits of information to her notes from the conversation with Uncle Don.
The next thing she needed to do was call Tommy and get him to bring her car back . There wasn’t much room to haul anything in her mother’s Porsche. Tommy wasn’t a morning person but she didn’t think 11:00 was too early to call. She wanted to be on her way as soon as she got cleaned up and had some lunch.
The uneasiness she carried with her these days began to creep back into her psyche, eating at her resolve to get moving . Maybe she should just stay out of it, sit and wait to see what the police came up with. Maybe this, maybe that, nothing but maybes. Closing her eyes, Jessica used the breathing techniques her shrink had given her to stave off spells of anxiety. Jessica was still deep in thought when she heard Bernadette’s voice at the patio door behind her.
“Somebody’s here to see you Jessica.” As Bernadette spoke a shadow fell over Jessica. She looked up and into the smiling face of the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life.
CHAPTER 8
“Jessica I’m Jerry Reynolds . Paul sent me.” As he spoke he held out his hand for her to shake it. She took his hand and resisted the urge to kiss it, like he was a pope or a king or something. Jerry Reynolds had to be six-four or thereabout, with broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw and blindingly white teeth. He was dressed informally in jeans and a deep red t-shirt topped with a loose fitting, light-weight long-sleeved shirt in a dusky green. His features were symmetrical, with a perfectly proportioned nose right out a Da Vinci sketch pad, and full sensuous lips.
His dark hair was cut in a style reminiscent of old Hollywood . The sort of cut that George Clooney and John Hamm, in the Don Draper character on Mad Men, made popular again. Most startling, though, were piercing green eyes with little crinkly laugh lines at the edges. Those lines made you believe the smile was the real deal and a common occurrence on his lovely countenance. Jessica had a kind of loopy grin on her face, and hoped she wasn’t drooling. She was transfixed. It was like she had been transported into one of those old Rock Hudson and Doris Day movies her mother loved to watch. Coming to her senses she gave his hand a little shake and let it go.
“Please, have a seat . Paul sent you? What do you mean?” Jessica asked with her brain still in slow mo. She still wasn’t sure who this guy was but didn’t much care.
“I’m sorry, if I wasn’t clear . Paul Worthington said he told you he’d get in touch with me and that I might be able to give you a hand with a murder investigation involving a friend of yours. Did I get that right?” He sank gracefully into the lounge chair next to her. As he sat down he removed the long-sleeved shirt, revealing well-developed biceps bound by the edges of the t-shirt. Stretching out his long legs, he propped up his cross trainers on the ottoman. His head was sort of cocked to one side, bemused puppy dog
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