“What I want is for her to admit she stole my strawberry jam recipe fifty years ago!” Mabel tugged her wig into place with a sharp jerk. “Just like she stole Herbert twenty years before that.”
“Herb never gave you the time of day and you know it, Mabel. And that recipe was my mother’s before it was mine. I have it written down in her handwriting in my recipe card box.”
“Lies.”
“And you can’t cook your way out of a pot of stone soup! That’s why your Donny, God rest his poor soul, kept coming over to eat dinner with Herb and me!”
Teas sent Jay a weary look. “They’ve been at it like this since we brought them in.” He unlocked Louella’s cell and pulled open the door. “Sooner you get her out of here, the sooner we’ll all have a little peace and quiet.” He beckoned. “Come on now, Mrs. O’Brien.”
His grandmother gave Mabel a goading smirk as she sauntered out of her cell. “I’m sure your daughter-in-law will be here soon. We all know how fond she is of you.” She glanced up at Jay as they followed the detective out of the holding area. “Only reason Donny Jr. moved to Dallas was because Charlene refused to live in the same town as his mama.” She didn’t bother keeping her voice down and Mabel obviously heard, because her shrieks followed them until the heavy door to the holding area clanged shut behind them.
“Here.” Teas handed Jay a sheaf of papers. “Judge has ordered your grandma and Mrs. Forsythe to keep one hundred yards away from each other until their hearing’s scheduled.” He focused on Louella. “Ma’am, you understand that if either one of you breaks that order, you’re both gonna end up in a cell for a mite longer than a couple hours?”
“Might be worth it,” Louella grumbled, “just to make her suffer.”
“You’d suffer, too,” Jay pointed out. He gestured toward Arabella, where she sat on a bench looking worried. “Now go over there and say hello to Arabella. She’s the one who drove me here.”
“I don’t appreciate being spoken to as if I’m five,” his grandmother said thinly.
“Then don’t act as if you’re five,” he returned.
Her lips compressed and she turned away from him, marching across the room to Arabella.
Jay blew out a breath and looked back at the detective. Even though he’d spent the last few weeks loathing the other man, he knew that Teas could’ve made this situation a lot more difficult. He extended his hand. “Thank you for your help tonight.”
Teas looked resigned. He shook Jay’s hand. Firmly. But briefly. “First time I’ve ever arrested two women of their...ah...”
“Maturity?”
“Afraid maturity wasn’t one of the things on display.” He tucked his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Do your best to make sure she follows the judge’s order,” he advised.
“I will.” Jay started to turn away, but looked back at the detective. “How did you know where I was tonight, anyway?” He hadn’t seen his grandmother since morning. She hadn’t known where he’d be, any more than he’d known she was going to have dinner at Provisions with her supposed friend Mabel Forsythe.
“You’re not going to like the answer.” Teas glanced past him.
Arabella and Jay’s grandmother were sitting together now. Jay wasn’t sure if the fact that they looked deep in discussion worried him more or less than whatever Teas was going to answer. “Regardless. I still want the answer.”
Teas capitulated with a small shrug. “We’ve had you under surveillance since the day I brought you in for questioning.”
Of all the things Teas could have said, that was the last thing Jay expected.
His jaw tightened until it ached. “Surveillance,” he said through his teeth when he could finally form a word that didn’t involve the furious outrage bubbling inside him. “You’re wasting a helluva lot of time and taxpayer dollars.”
Teas pursed his lips. “Not so sure ’bout that. You’re hiding something, Mr. Cross. There’re just too many gaps in your timeline for my taste. And I’m the kind of detective who tends to follow up on that sort of thing.”
Jay pinched the bridge of his nose. “My private business has nothing to do with Hotel Fortune’s misfortunes.”
The detective was unswayed. “Sounds like the name of a bad song, Mr. Cross.”
Jay returned the man’s stare. If the cop was looking for a reaction, he’d wait a long while.
And then he felt Arabella touch his arm. “Jay.”
He finally looked away from Teas.
“It’s really late,” she murmured softly. “I think your grandmother’s exhausted.”
He exhaled sharply. Of course she was exhausted. Once Jay and Arabella had arrived at the station, it had taken a few more hours before the bail had been processed. And now, it was nearly 3:00 a.m.
He didn’t exchange another word with Teas as he went to collect his grandmother from the bench. Exhausted she might be, but the only evidence of it was in her eyes. He still took her arm as they left the municipal building.
Arabella led the way, glancing over her shoulder periodically as if she were nervous.
Police stations probably had that effect on most law-abiding citizens.
She’d changed out of her swimsuit into a swingy yellow sundress before they’d driven to the station. Jay, on the other hand, was wearing the wrinkled shirt she’d pulled from her canvas purse and a pair of old cowboy boots he’d fortunately had stored in his truck.
God only knew where he’d managed to drop his tennis shoes during their escape from the fitness center.
The end result, though, was that Arabella looked like a ray of sunshine and he looked like an advertisement for Menswear Don’t.
At least the only ones following him around these days were the cops who didn’t care what he looked like so long as they kept trying to link him to the balcony collapse.
“I didn’t tell Detective Teas to find you,” his grandmother said as they left the building through the front doors. “So don’t blame me that
