Nothing to Lose (J.P. Beaumont #25)(99)

Shortly after that, Jimmy and I left the hospital. With the convenience of AJ’s just across the street from the hotel, I offered to take him there for dinner, but there was only one place in Homer where Jimmy Danielson cared to dine—back to Zig’s Place, so that’s where we went.

Just after nine the Driftwood’s glass doors slid open. Father Jared Danielson entered the lobby, followed by Twink carrying an armload of luggage. She went straight to the check-in desk while Jared headed for us.

“Is that him?” Jimmy whispered.

I nodded.

With that, Jimmy pocketed his phone, shot out of his chair, and went to greet the new arrival.

“Are you my uncle?” he asked.

Jared looked down at the boy and smiled. “If your name happens to be Christopher James Danielson, I certainly am,” he said, extending his hand.

“I’m glad to meet you, sir,” Jimmy said as they shook.

“You’re welcome to call me Uncle Jared. What should I call you?”

“Jimmy.”

“Okay,” Jared said. “Jimmy it is.”

Believe me, I had another huge lump in my throat during that brief encounter,

A few minutes later, I left Jared and Jimmy to get acquainted and hurried across the street to AJ’s, where Twink had arrived just in time to place her order before the kitchen shut down. I stopped at the hostess stand and made arrangements to cover Twink’s tab, sticky pudding and all. Then I wandered over to her table.

“Hey, Trouble,” she greeted me. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to pay my bill.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t have my credit-card gizmo on me.”

“No problem,” I told her. Slipping into the booth across from her, I pulled out a business card and scribbled a series of numbers on it. Then I passed the card to her. “When you do charge the account, that’s the amount you should use.”

Twink looked at the number, and her eyes bulged. “That’s way more than you owe!”

“And you did work that was above and beyond just being my driver.”

“But—”

“No buts, Twink. Having you and Maude at my disposal made all the difference. If nothing else, use the extra moolah to take that ding out of the fender and give the old girl a new paint job.”

“Thanks,” Twink said at last, pocketing the card. “Maybe I will.”

“And if you speak to that brother of yours, you might suggest that he get in touch with Lieutenant Price here at Homer PD. I’m not sure it’ll do any good, but someone needs to let investigators know that Jack Loveday wouldn’t have committed suicide just because the doctors whacked off his legs.”

“I’ll do that, too,” she said.

Rising to my feet, I held out my hand, and she gripped it with knuckle-grinding force. “This is it, then?” she asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Too bad.” She grinned. “Doing business with you has been more fun than a barrel of monkeys.”





Chapter 39




On Monday of that week, Twink headed back to Anchorage while Father Jared and Nitz sat down and sorted out Chris’s final arrangements. He had supposedly been on his way home to Ohio when he’d disappeared a dozen years earlier. Now he was finally making that trip. In death his body would be returned to his mother’s hometown of Monroe, Ohio, where his funeral would be held, and he would be laid to rest next to his mother in the Hinkle family plot. The timing on all that was up in the air, but Nitz had agreed to go there for the funeral, which hopefully would give Jimmy a chance to finally meet his great-grandmother, Annie Hinkle.

A local mortuary had been brought into the picture to make arrangements for transporting the casket once Professor Raines released Chris’s remains. In the meantime the mortuary would host a small memorial service on Friday afternoon, with Father Jared officiating. I placed a discreet call to the owner and made it clear that I would be handling all charges related to Chris’s final expenses.

The service was being hastily organized, but it was no problem getting out the word. Chris Danielson’s long-ago murder was now headline news all over Alaska, and I was sure his memorial in Homer would be well attended. Siegfried Norquist had come forward and offered to close Zig’s Place to the public for the afternoon in order to host a post-service reception at no cost to the family.

I wasn’t planning on hanging around long enough to attend. I’d done as much as I could for Sue Danielson’s family. Now I needed to pay attention to my own. Mel was still hurting, and I wanted to be home with her where I belonged.

On Tuesday morning Shelley Loveday Adams, a former Miss Alaska who had once won the Miss America swimsuit competition, showed up at her arraignment in Homer wearing an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs, after a short stay in the Kenai Correctional Center. She was escorted into the courtroom by uniformed members of the AST.

What happened next was incredibly gratifying. Shelley ended up pleading not guilty to one charge of murder in the first degree in the death of Chris Danielson and one charge of attempted murder and another of elder abuse against Roger Adams. She also pled not guilty to fifteen counts each of fraud and theft based on her shoddy real-estate dealings. Despite her not-guilty pleas, the prosecutors thought they had a good case. Their request to try both cases together was granted. Not only that, claiming Shelley was a flight risk, they also asked for and were granted no bail, meaning Shelley would remain in custody while awaiting trial. All I can say to that is bravo!