Page 28 of The Shop on Royal Street
Jaxson was surprised to see me when I opened the door. “Jolene had something in the oven, so I volunteered to come down and let you in.”
He glanced at his car in the driveway, and then at a large envelope in his hand, making it clear he hadn’t planned on coming inside. As I waited for him to say something, I caught a whiff of the baked cookies and scented candles and I just couldn’t face Jolene’s disappointment.
I opened the door wider, silently asking the unknown Carly for forgiveness. “Come on in. It will only take a minute.”
With a smile, he followed me up the stairs to the living area. A full plate of cookies sat next to the candle on the coffee table, and linen cocktail napkins had been placed on the tray holding the tea pitcher and three full glasses, each with its own floating wedges of lemon. Jolene sat in the armchair, apparently engrossed in a book, her feet in their sitting-down shoes and her ankles elegantly crossed.
She looked up with surprise, her lipstick giving her mouth the perfect rosebud shape. “Hello, Jaxson. I almost forgot that you were supposed to stop by.” She casually placed a bookmark in the middle of her book and stood. “I just made cookies, and they’re fresh out of the oven, if you’d like to try one.”
At his look of indecision, I indicated a spot on the sofa. “Or two. They’re a bit addictive. And they’re Jolene’s own recipe.”
He seemed to waffle for a moment as he eyed the delicious confections on the plate. “Well, maybe just one. I’m having dinner with my parents and I don’t want to spoil my appetite.”
“Of course not,” I said, sitting down next to him and holding out the plate.
Jolene placed a napkin and one of the full glasses in front of him before returning to her chair with her own glass and a single cookie wrapped in a napkin. As much as she apparently loved to bake, I rarely actually saw her eat anything.
“It’s good to see you again,” Jolene said. “I’m sorry I missed Carly’sparty last Friday—I was working late and too exhausted by the time I got home.”
I sent her a sidelong glance, remembering the two of us on the night in question sitting on this very couch, wearing our bathrobes, with our faces smeared in a green goop mask that Jolene swore by, and watching a Hallmark movie. I couldn’t remember which one, but it had been about a woman leaving the big city for a small town and reluctantly falling in love, and it ended happily.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t make it, either.” He shrugged. “We had another fight and I figured it would be best if I stayed away. I’m seeing her tomorrow night, so hopefully we’ll be able to patch things up.”
Jolene nodded sympathetically while watching as he took a bite from his second cookie. “These are amazing, by the way,” he said.
“My cousin calls them better than sex,” Jolene added matter-of-factly. “But not in front of our grandmama or she’d skin our hides—DeeDee’s for saying it, and mine for listening.”
At Jaxson’s wide-eyed expression, I quickly added, “Aren’t they delicious?” I felt compelled to add, “And she has a monogrammed iced tea pitcher and a deviled-egg plate.” I wasn’t sure why I’d said that, but at Jolene’s warning look I stopped before I could mention the full set of china.
“I’ll fix you a plate to take to your parents if you like.” Jolene looked so demure as she spoke, hiding the Machiavellian plans whirring in her sharp brain. Everyone knew that in the South the plate would need to be returned in person, and with more home-baked goods on it.
“That would be awesome—thanks.” He sat back on the couch, seemingly forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to stay long, but the crinkling of the envelope he’d put there brought him back to reality. He pulled it out from under his leg. “I almost forgot.” He stood and handed the envelope to Jolene, picking up another cookie before resuming his seat. “I saw this and thought of you. It’s kind of big, but you’ve got a big car, and it would fit in the rear window.”
Jolene opened the envelope and pulled out a rectangular window sticker and began laughing.
“What does it say?” I asked. The words were reversed and covered in a white backing, so I couldn’t make them out from my vantage point.
Jaxson quoted from memory. “ ‘Louisiana, a state where you need to pay for a decal on your car that says your vehicle is fit for the road, on roads that aren’t fit for a vehicle.’ ” He smiled. “Made me think of you getting a flat on a pothole and changing the tire all by yourself. I figured you’d earned it.”
Jolene beamed, no doubt pleased that Jaxson had thought about her. “I love it. I’ll put it on my car first thing.”
Jaxson placed his empty glass on the coffee table—using a coaster, which Jolene no doubt noticed and appreciated—and stood. “I hate to eat and leave, but my parents will be waiting for me.”
“Sure. Let me go fix that plate for you.”
“Only if you have enough,” Jaxson said.
I thought of the four batches of cookies I’d seen in the kitchen. “There’s plenty, trust me.”
Jolene disappeared into the kitchen, and I watched as Jaxson’s gaze followed her.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I have another favor to ask,” I said.
He reluctantly returned his attention to me.
“There’s another cold case. Two actually—from 2005—that I wanted to ask your uncle Bernie about. Would it be possible to arrange a meeting?”
“Sure. Anyone you know?”
