Toasting Up Trouble (A Dinner Club Mystery) (19 page)

“Those views are amazing,” J.J. said, taking it all in.

“Aren’t they just? Now, would you like something? It may take her a few more minutes.” She leaned closer as if sharing some news. “We just got this marvelous espresso machine and it makes really, really good brew.”

“That sounds perfect,” J.J. answered.

And it did. She could do an extended wait with an espresso in hand. She was just finishing it off when the door opened and a very tall, imposing-looking woman entered. J.J. scrambled to stand and still couldn’t quite get on an equal eye level.

The woman covered the space between them in two strides, hand outstretched. “I’m Olivia Barker. I’m so sorry
to have kept you waiting, but I see you’ve been treated to our new find.” She gestured to the empty cup.

“It was as tasty as advertised.”

“Good. Now, Ms. Rose is running late, so why don’t you and I get started. You said you’d never met Ashley Rose?”

“No, I haven’t.” She hoped they weren’t jumping right into the “working together” phase.

Olivia nodded as she sat behind her desk. Her light brown hair framed her angular face in a bob and the purple reading glasses she’d pulled out of her desk drawer complemented the lavender silk blouse she wore. J.J. wondered if she always coordinated with her glasses. Olivia had slipped out of her tailored black suit jacket before sitting down, and it now draped over the back of her chair.

“I’m truly amazed that two proposals that are so similar have been tended. In fact, the ideas are exactly the same, only some of the words have been changed. To protect the innocent,” she added with a chuckle but watching J.J. She picked up a stack of paper in each hand. J.J. wondered which hand her proposal was in. She also wondered whose had arrived first but thought it better not to say so aloud. Might sound childish.

“Even the additional was almost word for word,” Olivia continued. “You don’t have a twin, do you?” She laughed as she said it, but J.J. detected a note of concern.

“Guaranteed not. I don’t know what to say. I’ve never had this happen before.”

Barker sat back, her eyes on J.J., who kept her cool and tried to look calm and innocent. But innocent of what? That internal light bulb in her head flashed on. Copying. Someone had obviously copied J.J.’s proposals. There was no other way this could have happened. But how? Were her e-mails intercepted? By someone in Barker’s office?

The phone on her desk rang, and Barker answered, all
the while watching J.J., who suddenly had an answer to her questions. Brittany? Who else? But why?

Barker hung up and asked, “What’s on your mind, J.J.? It looks like something’s occurred to you.”

“Uh, I’ve just had a thought, but I’d like to check something out before I say anything.” She hoped that would be enough to keep Barker from prying any further.

“Well, that will be all right, but let’s get on with discussing this proposal. That was Ms. Rose on the line. She’s not able to make it after all, so we’ll just continue and then you two can arrange between yourselves to talk. Will that work for you?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. I’ll have my assistant give you Ms. Rose’s particulars as you leave. Now, I wanted to say how pleased I was that you’d suggested mixing up the personal life of Will Gowling with his corporate persona. I think that’s the perfect touch. In fact, I totally approve of everything in both proposals. Of course, if you can bring the event in under cost, that’s even better. But I won’t quibble about money. The guest of honor has been a valuable asset to this company and will be sorely missed. I want this to be a party that will show him exactly that.”

“That’s the message I got from our last talk. I’m so pleased you think this fulfills that.”

“Now, what’s the next stage?”

“I’ll get to work on all the elements—the catering, the décor, the invitations, the media release, the entertainment—and send all the details to you for final approval before continuing.”

“That’s after you’ve met with Ashley Rose?”

J.J. swallowed. “Of course.”

Barker smiled. “I have complete confidence that you’ll handle this well.” She stood and held out her hand. “Let me know if you need any more information.”

“I will, and please be in touch if you have anything to add.” J.J. shook her hand and left. The assistant handed her a piece of letterhead notepaper with the e-mail and phone number for Ashley Rose on it as she reached the reception area.

Okay, Ashley Rose, the game is afoot.

J.J. had her computer off, her jacket on, and her hand on the light switch when the phone rang. She was pleased to hear Rocco Gates’s voice on the line.

“You’re out of jail?” She clamped her hand over her mouth. Not very tactful. She quickly recovered. “How wonderful, Rocco. I’m delighted to hear from you.”

“My brother-in-law bailed me out this morning. I’ve been spending most of the day just walking around, but now I’m at the bistro and ready to rock and roll. If you have no plans tonight, I’d like to invite you to stop by for an espresso on your way home.”

“I’d love to. I’m just leaving now, actually. I’ll see you shortly.”

J.J. decided to leave her car at the office and enjoy the mild early evening. She practically skipped downhill to Rocco G’s. She did remind herself, though, that being out on bail wasn’t the same thing as no longer being a suspect.
As far as she knew, Rocco was still number one on that list. But maybe now that he was free, she could ask him some more questions.

She pushed open the door to the bistro and spotted Rocco shaking hands with some customers at the cash register. He saw J.J. and flashed her a wide smile. After the customers left, he went to her and kissed her on each cheek.

“It’s a so good to see you, my friend. I understand I should thank you for all you’ve been doing on my behalf. Please, come and sit and I will make you that espresso.”

She sat at a table for two next to the window, facing away from the counter, so she was surprised when her espresso arrived. Rocco also placed a small dish with an assortment of biscotti, baicoli, and pevarini in front of her.

“Please enjoy.” He looked around the room. “I think I have a breather right now. May I join you?”

“Oh, please do. It must feel good to be back in here.”

“You cannot imagine. That place chills the soul. And if you are innocent of all charges, it’s a double crippling.” He shivered in emphasis.

“Did the police say anything to you, like who else they’re suspecting?”

“Are you still worried you might be on their list?” He covered her hand in reassurance.

“No, actually I’m not, which surprises me when I say it out loud. I hadn’t thought about it in a while, I guess. I was so worried about you. But they must be looking elsewhere.”

“I certainly hope so. I’ve heard from a few sources that you have been doing the same thing. And I understand you’ve been checking around. Have you found anything out?”

J.J. nodded. “I’ve found out that Kevin Lonsdale, Marcotti’s chef, might be leaving and there may have been some concern about his taking recipes with him. There’s also the
local city councilor, Don Kelland, who Marcotti had some issues with and was even thinking of running against in the next election. So a few possibilities.”

“Yes, that sounds hopeful. You have been busy.” He smiled, although she could still see the concern etched in his face.

She took a drink of espresso, enjoying the flavor. “I also know that Gina Marcotti is having an affair, but she won’t say with whom. I’m wondering if it’s Ty Devine—you know, the private investigator—and if that makes him the killer.”

There, she’d said it aloud to someone other than Ness. Did it sound any more right?

Rocco turned to look out the window. When he didn’t say anything, J.J. asked, “Do I sound way off base?”

“I don’t know what to say.” He looked back at her. “I don’t really know this Ty Devine, just the time he came in to question me when you were here—remember? And then another time when he visited me in the jail. He seemed really interested in finding the killer.”

“What if that was to throw everyone off his scent?”

“Let me ask you, what makes you think he is this mysterious lover?”

“Because he told me not to ask Gina about it anymore. He knew who it was, and he didn’t believe that person was the killer. But if it was Devine, he’d say that, wouldn’t he? So that we wouldn’t realize he’s the lover and he’s the killer.”

“It don’t think it sounds very likely to me. Besides, he’s too young for her.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” J.J.’s thoughts flashed briefly to her ex-fiancé and the client, at least fifteen years his senior, whom he’d bedded.

“I think you are wrong about this man. As much as I want the real killer to be found, I don’t think it’s a him. You must look at the other choices rather than a lover.”

J.J. searched his face. Why was he so adamant? Did he really trust Devine that much? What had Devine said to him during that jail visit? What was Devine not telling her?

She shrugged. “I’ll remember that. However, I still think he’s a good bet. Don’t worry, I won’t stop trying to figure this out.” She was trying to make him feel better.

“As much as I appreciate what you’re doing, I am worried about you and think it’s a probably better left to the police and Mr. Devine. Promise me you won’t do anything dangerous.”

“All right, I promise.” She stifled a yawn and realized it must be late. She glanced at her wristwatch. Eight. She’d better get some dinner before she waited too long and could fall asleep while eating.

“I didn’t realize it’s so late. I should be going. It’s really good to see you. And thank you for the espresso and goodies.”

Rocco laughed. “My pleasure,
cara
. Now, come and see me again soon.”

He helped her shrug into her jacket and was collecting the dirty dishes when she glanced back in the window.

Who would know about Gina’s lover? Someone in the Italian community? Did they all know about Candy? Well, Rocco was a someone but he certainly wasn’t sharing a name, even though he thought it wasn’t Devine. Would Candy know? Only if Marcotti had known, and surely he would have done something about it in that case. Who could she ask? Who was in a better position to find out?

She was so intent on her thoughts, she screamed when a hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

“Don’t scream. It’s me,” Devine said, hanging on tightly and quickening his pace. “Just keep walking and don’t slow down. You’re being tailed by that white van again. Where’s your car?”

“At my office.”

“Mine’s just around this corner. We’ll walk to it, get in without looking back, and drive off.”

“But don’t you want to see who it is?”

“I’m hoping he’ll continue to follow us right into a parking lot just down the street, where I can quickly turn the tables and box him in.” They approached his car and she heard him unlock the doors remotely. He opened the passenger door and she slid into the seat. When he was behind the wheel, he glanced in his rearview mirror.

“Is he still there?” she asked, afraid to turn around and take a look.

“Oh yeah. This could get interesting. Buckle up.”

They drove around for several minutes before J.J. asked, “Why were you following me this time?”

“I wasn’t. I was headed to Rocco G’s and saw you come out, then noticed the van start up. Rocco made bail, I take it?”

“Yes, his brother-in-law bailed him out this morning, and obviously he’s delighted to be free. What do you think it means? They have another suspect in mind?”

“It means what it is. He was granted bail and someone came up with the money. It doesn’t diminish the charges or anything like that. He’s still their top man for the rap.”

“But Evan Thornton said the police had been around to see him again.”

“Yes, and they’ll probably be paying you another visit, too. They have to check and triple-check to make sure they haven’t overlooked anything. I’m thinking, even though they have the link to the murder weapon and a possible motive, there are no prints and no witnesses. And no confession. They still have a lot of homework to do in order to make their case stand up in court.”

“All right, but— Ooh.” She let out a big breath as Devine
took the corner without slowing down. “That sure won’t let him know we’re onto him,” she said with sarcasm.

“Don’t turn around. I just wanted to see how desperate he is to keep up with us. Okay, the parking lot is coming up on the left. I’m going to lure him in then double back to block off the entrance. I want you to stay in the car, no matter what happens. Got that?”

“Yes. Shouldn’t I be calling 911?”

“Right. Now would be a good time to do that. Here we go. Hang on.”

J.J. had been digging around in her purse for her smartphone when Devine made a sharp left turn and she dropped it. She glared at him but he didn’t look over. She glanced in the side mirror and saw the van pull in, then stop. She was leaning down to the floor trying to recover her phone when Devine gunned the engine and did a 180-degree spin, speeding over to the entrance.

He sat staring at the van but no one got out. “Can you make out the plate?” He passed her some small but powerful binoculars when she straightened.

“I can.” She made the phone call and gave the 911 operator the details.

“What’s he waiting for?” she wanted to know. “Do you think he has a gun and will shoot us?”

“Possibly. He’s trying to sort through his options. He could decide to ram us. Shoot us. Or give up. I think the last one is highly unlikely.”

“You make us sound like sitting ducks. What did you think would happen when you did this?”

“I’d hoped he’d jump out of the van, mad as hell, and try to punch me out.”

“Also a good option.”

Devine chuckled. “Glad you’re on my side. Or he could
just as easily have tried to run away and I’d be right after him. My other plan was to just sit here and wait for the police to arrive.” As he said it, they could hear sirens in the distance getting closer.

“What if he hears them, too, and tries to shoot his way out? Or even worse, tries to ram us? Why aren’t you more upset about this? You don’t really believe any of those bad things are going to happen, do you? You already know who’s in that van, don’t you?”

Devine looked at her. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

Three police cars pulled up and officers jumped out of their cars with guns drawn. Devine opened his door. “Stay inside until it’s over.”

He walked over to talk to one of the officers as the others surrounded the van. Two other officers then joined them. Devine had pulled his own gun out from his holster, worn under his bomber jacket. The officer he’d been talking to sidled alongside the van, up to the driver’s door, and hit the butt of his gun on the frame.

J.J. opened her door so she could hear what was going on.

The officer yelled, “Open the door and throw out your weapon, then follow it, very slowly. You are surrounded, so don’t try anything fancy.”

They waited several moments until the door swung open and a male voice yelled out, “I don’t have a gun.” Hands followed the voice. “See?”

“Come out. Slowly.”

J.J. strained to see the driver’s face, but Devine was blocking her view. She got out of the car and walked around to where she’d have a better look.

Hank Ransom.

She wasn’t prepared for that. Of course, she hadn’t been too focused on possible drivers. She hadn’t even been totally convinced her life was in danger. But now . . . Could he have
killed Marcotti? He certainly had access to the weapon. But what about a motive? He had seemed secretive when she’d spoken to him, although at the time she’d also wondered if he just wasn’t much of a talker.

She watched as the police escorted him to a cruiser. Devine finally returned to the car, and she asked, “What has just gone on here?”

“He’s not saying anything, but he certainly was tailing us. It makes him look very suspicious in the murder investigation, although I don’t take him to be the killer.”

They both got back in the car.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Motive. I can’t figure out what his motive would be.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Devine glanced at her and smiled. “Of course, you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“Well, yes. I’ve talked to him a couple of times and didn’t get a sense of anything sinister. But I may not have been asking the right questions when it came to Marcotti. I was mainly searching for reasons it wasn’t Rocco. So, what now? How do we find out what he tells the police?”

“There is no
we
in this. I’ll give Hastings a call tomorrow and see what information he’ll share.” He sighed. “Okay. I’ll let you know if there’s something.”

She settled back in the seat. “Thank you. So he wasn’t who you thought would be in that van?”

“No. I have to admit, I didn’t see that one coming.”

“But he’s not Gina Marcotti’s lover, because you know who that is. You know, for a while there, I wondered if you might be her lover, and therefore the murderer.” She needed to say it, if only to check his reaction. She knew of no other way to find out the truth of it.

He turned to face her, but she kept looking straight ahead.

“Me? Whatever gave you such an asinine idea?”

“Well, you say you know who this lover is but you won’t share the information. And we know that Gina has the money, so she didn’t kill her husband for it. But she might have colluded with her lover to smooth the way for them to be together.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier for her to just divorce the guy?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t really know what’s important to her. Saving face in her cultural community? Religion?” She studied the dashboard as she thought about what she’d just said. “Okay, maybe it wasn’t a conspiracy. Those could be pretty lame reasons. But the first part of my statement stands. You’re not telling me who the lover is because it’s you.” She glanced at him.