Toasting Up Trouble (A Dinner Club Mystery) (10 page)

J.J. had just paid for her latte when she got a text from Alison saying she was on the way. Within minutes, Alison, in uniform, walked through the door. J.J. had chosen the table nearest the cash and watched as she made her way over.

“I can’t stay long. Just need to get me and my partner some java.”

“Let me get them. My treat.”

“You must want something real bad,” Alison answered, pulling out a chair.

J.J. smiled. “Hear me out, then we’ll get the coffee. I know you can’t divulge anything about the Marcotti investigation.” She reached out to touch Alison’s arm when she saw the look on Alison’s face. “But, if you could just maybe, like,
nod
if I’m right or do nothing if I’m wrong, that would help me so, so much. You know that neither I nor Evan are killers. I have to clear our names.”

“That’s what we have detectives for,” Alison hissed, leaning toward her. “Just trust them and leave it to them.”

“I’d love to, but I’ve been told by two ex-cops within the past three days that might not be such a good idea—the first part, that is. So all I want to know is if there are more than four suspects being looked at. The ones I know about are me, Evan, Rocco Gates, and Candy Fleetwood. Are there more?”

Alison sighed and lowered her head then looked up and over to the window. J.J. took that to be a nod. “Oh man. Thank you so much. I feel much better. I don’t suppose you can get me those names?”

Alison remained still. J.J. sighed. “I didn’t think so. Oh, well, it really is good to know the police are still looking into other possible suspects. Let’s get those coffees. I know you’re rushed.”

As Alison grabbed the two cups, she said in a low voice, “I do not consider these to be a bribe. You are just being thoughtful to your friend.”

“Absolutely.”

J.J. added another two lattes to her tally and headed for the office. After depositing one of them in front of Skye, she stashed her own on her desk, and crossed over to Tansy’s office. The assistant’s desk was empty, so J.J. knocked on the inner office door and entered when Tansy called out.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she began, “but I need your help.”

“I told you: keep a lawyer on speed dial.” Tansy started rifling through her Rolodex. “I know just the person to help you.”

“No, sorry, that’s not what I want. Let me explain.” She waited until Tansy sat back in her chair, giving her full attention. Today’s outfit was a navy suit, the jacket of which was hanging on the back of her chair, and a white blouse with navy polka dots.
Power suit. Must be an important day. Maybe a court date.

“I have it on the best authority that the police have added more suspects to the list in the Marcotti murder. I know of four names, but I’m hoping your spy—uh,
source
—can give you the names of the others. Do you think that’s possible?” J.J. used her best smile and hoped that would be enough.

Tansy shook her head. “Not possible. I won’t even ask her. I can’t use her for insignificant things like that. I save her for the big stuff, like if I need some background info for a trial. You can understand that, can’t you?” Tansy’s smile seemed sincere.

J.J. sighed. “I suppose so, but I’m not sure how else to find out what’s going on.”

“Why do you need to know? You already said they have over four suspects now. That means you’re off the front burner, at least. Have the police brought you back in for questioning in the past few days? No? You see? Now, I have a meeting in twenty minutes. Come back and see me anytime. My door is always open, and I’m always ready to help.” Tansy waved her away, and J.J. left feeling totally dismissed.

“‘My door is always open, and I’m always ready to help,’” J.J. mimicked as she flopped down at her own desk.

“Tansy, I take it. You know with her it’s always quid pro quo. What does she need from you? Think about it. I’m having an early lunch with the corporate team-building trainer who’ll be working with me on the weekend retreat project for the city. How about you?”

“I’m still trying to come up with a dynamite zinger for Olivia Barker.”

“I see you’ve added, and subtracted, a few ideas to the whiteboard. How’s that working for you?”

“Just great. At this rate, I’ll hit the brilliant idea by, say, Christmas.”

J.J. finished her latte, now cold, and turned her attention to her e-mail. By the time noon rolled around, she had come
up with a couple of ideas, both of them non-starters, so decided to heed the call of her stomach and head to Rocco G’s for something to eat. She also hadn’t told him about how well her dinner had gone, and she knew he wanted to hear all about it. She quickly scribbled an idea on her way out. She knew she’d cross it out on her way back in.

Only one table stood vacant when she arrived at Rocco G’s. She snagged it and then made her way to the counter to order an espresso. “You look a bit frantic, Zoe. Has Rocco deserted you?”

“OMG, that’s just it. I don’t know. He had to go to the police station a couple of hours ago, and he’s still not back. I’d just walked in the door to start my shift, and he walked out. I’m getting a bit worried, but Hank Ransom—he’s the cook—says it’s nothing.” She shrugged. “I hope you don’t mind, but it might be a bit of a wait for your food.” She smiled an apology.

“No problem. Could I just sneak back there and ask Hank something?”

“Sure. I guess it’s okay.”

While Zoe busied herself delivering two plates of food that had just appeared on the pass-through, J.J. scurried through the swinging door into the kitchen. Probably not the best time to bother a chef, she acknowledged, but she was worried about Rocco.

“Hank Ransom, isn’t it?” she asked.

He grunted. He had his back to her, and all she could see were white runners, blue jeans, a long white apron that had been tied in the back over a navy T-shirt, and long dark hair caught back in a ponytail. His body looked very thin.
Obviously, he doesn’t sample while cooking.

“I’m J.J. Tanner, a friend of Rocco’s.”

He shot her a quick glance without turning to face her. “You’ve been in here before. You’re the one with the questions about cooking Italian, right?”

“Yes,” J.J. said, pleased that Rocco had mentioned her. “I know this is a bad time to disturb you, but I won’t take a minute. Zoe just told me about Rocco going down to the police station. Did he say anything before going? He’s been gone a long time, hasn’t he?” Although her interview had taken just as long, she realized.

He turned to look at her and then glanced up at the clock. “He’s been there since ten, but like I told Zoe, he’ll be okay. It’s about the Marcotti murder, but he’s not a killer. They won’t keep him long.”

“I’m happy to hear you have confidence in him. How can you be so sure he didn’t do it?” She had her own reasons, but she wanted to hear others’.

He almost put his hands on his waist, but then remembered the bread crumbs coating them and turned back to the counter and the fish he was coating. “He just didn’t. He’s a good guy. He has a short fuse, but it’s out just as fast. Look, I really don’t have time to talk.”

“Sure. I know. I’m sorry. Thanks,” J.J. mumbled as she backed out of the kitchen.

By the time her food was set in front of her, about half the crowd had finished eating and left. She thought about her short chat with Hank. She was pleased they agreed on the fact that Rocco wasn’t the murderer. But she had wanted to ask him some more questions. She’d obviously have to come back another time.

She watched Zoe smooth back her long curly dark hair and secure it again with an elastic band. She really looked the part of a harried mom of twin seven-year-olds but maybe, as Rocco said, that’s what made her so capable of handling the noisy lunch crowd. She’d be heading home shortly and would hopefully have a bit of a break before the kids arrived home from school. Try as hard as she could, J.J. couldn’t imagine that lifestyle. Maybe she’d remain single forever.

Rocco hadn’t returned by the time J.J. had finished her lunch. She checked with Zoe, but there hadn’t been a phone call from him either, so she headed back to work.

She dialed Alison’s cell phone as she waited for her computer screen to load. From the background there were sounds of traffic when Alison answered, and J.J. guessed she was working and away from the station. “I’m sorry to bother you but I really need to find out something.”

She could hear Alison take a deep breath, or at least that’s what she thought it sounded like. Maybe that was her conscience prodding her.

“I might not be able to help you, J.J. You know that.”

“I do know, but I need to ask, anyway. Can you find out why Rocco Gates is spending so long at the police station? Apparently, he’s been there since ten this morning.”

“You’re just curious, right? You’re not going to do anything. Right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay. Give me a few minutes. I’ll call you back.” She hung up without waiting for a response.

J.J. was getting caught up on her e-mail when Alison’s call came through. “I have some bad news for you. Or maybe it’s good news in a way. Rocco Gates is being detained for further questioning about the murder of Antonio Marcotti.”

“Arrested? But that’s all wrong. He’s not the killer.” J.J. felt a flutter of panic.

“Pardon me, but I think the detectives are better able to make that call. However, I did not say he was arrested. They can hold him for twenty-four hours for questioning without having to charge him. You should be pleased. That means you and Evan are off the hook.”

“Well, I am pleased about that, but I’m worried about Rocco.”

“I didn’t know you two were such close friends.”

“Maybe we’re not, but he’s been good to me. Besides, he’s a nice guy, and I’m sure he’s not a killer.”

“Nice guys are bad guys sometimes. I gotta go. We’ll talk later.”

J.J. sat staring at the phone. She couldn’t believe it. She was certain Rocco wasn’t a killer. She didn’t really know how she knew, but way down deep, she believed in him. Maybe she was a little naïve for feeling this way after having known him for such a short period of time, but sometimes people just click and that’s what had happened. She realized she thought of him as a good friend.

“Who’s been arrested?” Skye demanded. She put a hand on J.J.’s shoulder and gently rubbed.

“Rocco Gates. Although Alison says he’s not yet charged, just being held. And that’s just jargon. Bottom line, he’s in jail.”

“You sound pretty certain he’s innocent.”

“I am. He’s such a sweet guy and I feel really bad for him. He took a lot of extra time to explain the intricacies of Italian ingredients to me. And he wanted my supper to turn out just right. What’s going to happen to his bistro?”

“Do you know if he has someone to take care of it?”

J.J. sat back in her chair, a surprised look on her face. “I don’t know a thing about his personal life. We’ve only talked food and murder.”

“And that’s what you base your conviction on?” Skye shook her head. “You are so trusting. So who would know?”

“Rocco’s cook, Hank, might, but he’s already kicked me out of the kitchen once today. Besides, I’m pretty sure he works only part-time for Rocco, and once the lunch hour’s over, he’s out of there. I wonder where he goes.”

“Would Evan know anything?”

“I don’t even know how well he knows Rocco.” She picked
up a pencil and tapped it lightly on the desk. “I think I’ll see if Tansy can find out anything.”

“Again? She’s going to start the clock on you soon, you know.”

“I have an idea.” J.J. stood and straightened her blouse. “Wish me luck.

She heard Skye doing just that as she closed their office door behind her. She opened Tansy’s door to find Izzy, Tansy’s assistant, on the phone. J.J. motioned to Tansy’s office, and Izzy gave her a thumbs-up.

“Tansy, do you have a minute?” J.J. asked as she stuck her head around the inner door.

“Depends. What do you have in mind?” Tansy had her suit jacket on, which probably meant J.J. had better make this quick.

“I’ve been thinking about the paint situation, and I think you’re right. We do need and deserve fresh paint on this entire floor.” J.J. kept her expression earnest.

Tansy clapped her hands. “Yes. I knew you’d agree. Come in and sit down.”

“Have you thought about a color?”

“Have I.” Tansy reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a stack of paint color chips. She had a thick elastic band marking a spot about halfway through the two-inch stack. “What do you think of this, in two or even three tones?”

“I like it.” J.J. was truly impressed. She’d expected something more “in your face.” “It looks classy and cheerful at the same time. What are you thinking, the pale cream—or I guess it’s called maize—for the walls and then one of the darker tones for all the trim?” She looked around at what that might entail. Windows, doors, and crown moldings.

“Exactly. Now, you’ll talk to Evan? Take this with you and it should help you convince him.”

J.J. reached for the stack and held the chip away from her, closing one eye to help with her imagining the entire wall that color. “I will.”

She stood but paused before leaving. “It might take me a while to get to Evan today, though. My friend Rocco Gates is being held for questioning in the Marcotti murder and I’m worried about him. I’m not sure if he has a lawyer or what. I don’t even know if he has family who might help.”

Tansy shoved her glasses above her forehead. “Hm. I wonder if I were to make some phone calls if that might ease your mind so you can concentrate on that talk with Evan?”

“Would you? How wonderful, Tansy.” J.J. sat back down. She worried that Tansy might put off doing it once she left the room.

Tansy sighed and punched a number into her phone. She picked up the receiver as the number connected. After several minutes of asking questions, and even more of waiting, she finally had an answer. She hung up and focused on J.J.

“He has a lawyer and the police have twenty-four hours before they have to release him or charge him. If he’s charged, he can appear in court before a judge to see if bail can be set. That might not be possible, though.”