Aspen Allegations - A Sutton Massachusetts Mystery

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Aspen Allegations - A Sutton Massachusetts Mystery Page 24

by Kasi Blake


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  Sorento’s was on Main Street in Marlboro, having taken the place of other Italian restaurants that had tried and failed in the past. Common wisdom was that ninety percent of all restaurants went under in the first year, and certainly, whatever the statistic was, keeping a restaurant in business in this modern age was no easy matter. In this world of Yelp and TripAdvisor a few poor reviews could turn away legions of potential patrons. In addition, with the recession, many were choosing to cook at home rather than eat out.

  I walked into the small lobby, glanced right at the bar, then moved left into the restaurant proper. It appeared I was the first of our group to arrive. A waitress came over to the Maître d’ stand, took my name, checked off the reservation, and led me to a table in the center. The restaurant was a nice mixture of elegance and comfort. The polished wood floors, fresh flowers on the tables, and well-dressed wait staff indicated this was not a pizzeria aimed at young kids. The presence of the casual bar right next door as well as the long stretch of decorative mirrors relaxed any thought of a stuffy formal experience.

  My two friends arrived only minutes after I did, and we settled down to review the menu. Geraldine was one of the most brilliant women I knew. She ran a top-notch hosting firm and was always deciphering the innards of a complex system problem. Whenever I ran into issues with SQL, PHP, or internet traffic, Geraldine could free my tangled technical skein with one quick yank.

  Tanya was talented in a different way – her area of expertise was web design. She had created several sites for me which were stunning in their beauty. She hailed from Sweden, and there was something about her clean design and use of natural colors that called to me.

  We ordered glasses of Prosecco and, when they arrived, gave a toast to friendship. “You know,” said Geraldine, after taking a sip, “it seems like all day long I was hearing people criticize each other or point out problems. I made it a point to thank my Dell rep for being so prompt in helping me out. I think we too rarely offer praise to people for being there for us.”

  “That’s true,” agreed Tanya. “With Thanksgiving coming up, many people on Facebook are taking out time each day to offer thanks to someone for being a warm force in their life. I think we should do that more often. We are quick to judge – but slow to appreciate.”

  I looked between the two women. “I appreciate you, Geraldine. And I appreciate you, Tanya,” I toasted. They smiled, returning the words.

  Tanya turned to look at me. “So, you have had quite the excitement since last month,” she prodded. “Tell us all about it.”

  I explained everything that had happened since I found John in the woods that first day of November. They listened attentively, and the waiter brought in our appetizers of eggplant in marinara sauce. The food was delicious, and I paused occasionally to take bits of the rich dish. By the time I finished he was clearing away those plates to lay down our main course.

  Geraldine selected a piece of cheese off her antipasto plate, nibbling it in thought. “So you still have to question Charles, the man who works at Omnibank?”

  I nodded, taking a bite of my veal marsala. I sighed in satisfaction. So often veal came out tough or rubbery at a restaurant, but it was smooth and tender. Just right with the Portobello mushrooms. “Yes, hopefully we’ll be able to meet on Friday. He keeps putting me off.”

  Geraldine glanced at Tanya. “If I recall correctly, Charles was the one embroiled in that minor snafu a few years ago.”

  I looked between them. “What was that? I don’t think I heard about it.”

  Geraldine smiled. “I tend to be the political junkie, while you avoid all talk of politics,” she gently pointed out. “It involved some loans given to a certain senator. Apparently Charles and the senator were old friends and there were numerous irregularities in the loan structures.”

  Tanya nodded. “I remember that. I never got the sense that Charles did it for political gain or to get any favors. From the press conferences, he seemed baffled as to why anybody cared about what he did. He thought he was simply helping out a friend who deserved the money and that it was all right to bend the rules a little.”

  Geraldine chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. “I don’t think the poor man even realized at the time that he had bent any rules,” she added. “It seemed like he got the position he had through family connections and didn’t quite grasp how things were supposed to work. It’s more likely that he had a secretary or underling who normally handled that type of issue for him, to make sure it was done properly. Maybe that person was out on vacation for a week or two and he was allowed to run amok.”

  My eyes brightened at the image. “Sort of like the sorcerer’s apprentice, with Mickey wanting to take his turn at running things?”

  Geraldine nodded in delight. “That’s it exactly,” she agreed. “Charles gave me that very vibe. He had both a desire to be liked and a confused bafflement why his efforts didn’t quite work out the way he wanted them to.”

  Tanya took another bite of her salmon. “Maybe you should bring him here for dinner,” she suggested. “This is delicious. Would you like a bite?”

  I offered my appetizer plate to get a portion of her salmon. In a moment I was concurring with her appreciation of the dish.

  Geraldine leant back in her chair. “Well, be sure to let us know how it goes,” she stated with a warm smile. “I imagine your time with Charles should be fascinating.”

 

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