Toasting Up Trouble (A Dinner Club Mystery)

by Linda Wiken

  J.J. looked outside and felt cheered that it had at least stopped raining. It seemed something could go right. She looked at her computer and then out the window again. She knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on work. Not today. She locked up and headed for home.

  Eight o’clock. Less than ten minutes since J.J. had last looked at the wall clock. Time was dragging tonight, and she couldn’t seem to concentrate. She’d tried brainstorming some creative ideas for Olivia Barker and the retirement party she was organizing, however that hadn’t worked. Next, she’d tried some visualization with the recipe for beef—now turkey—pizzaiola from nigellissima. Again, not into focusing. Even the latest mystery by one of her favorite mystery authors, Victoria Abbott, couldn’t hold her attention.

  She should just admit it and deal with it: she was scared. She was not a murderer, but the butterflies started fluttering in her stomach whenever she thought back to being interviewed in the police station. She needed to have faith in the system, but she readily admitted she didn’t. Not when it was her reputation—her life—at stake. She needed to talk to someone who knew the ropes. She knew that Alison was on duty, so not her. But Ness Harper was at home. She’d indulged her senses in the aroma of sauerkraut wafting from his apartment when she’d walked past the door earlier.

  She was just about to open her apartment door when someone knocked on it. Through the peephole, she spied Ness.

  “Wow, talk about the same wavelength,” she said, pulling the door open. “I was just coming to see you.”

  Ness grunted and pushed past her to the living room patio door. “Come here. Turn off the light in here while you’re at it.”

  She did as she was told and peered over his outstretched arm, which held back the drapes a crack. “What am I looking for?”

  “What do you see?”

  She leaned forward until her forehead touched the windowpane. “Umm, a dark car across the street. A light car on this side of the street. Nobody out walking. Is that it?”

  “The dark car. It arrived just as you got home and has been parked there ever since. No one exited it.”

  She turned to look at him. “I don’t get it. Oh, do you think whoever is in that car followed me? I didn’t notice it or anyone for that matter.”

  He grunted. “It means he’s good. So you don’t recognize the car?”

  “No. I don’t think so. But it’s dark, even with that streetlight close by, and I can’t really see it that well from here.”

  “It could be the police, but I somehow doubt it. There’s no reason for them to be following you.” Ness headed to the door. “You wait. I’m going to see who it is and what he wants.”

  J.J. stared at the door from which Ness had just exited for less than a minute, and then she grabbed a sweater and her apartment keys and followed. She’d reached the front sidewalk when she saw Ness strolling along the sidewalk, then in a move she’d never thought him capable of at his age, dash around the car and yank open the driver’s door.

  “Get out of that car and keep your hands where I can see them.” His voice was loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear.

  J.J. went scurrying across the road as a dark-haired male exited the car. He had his hands up in front of him as he turned to face Ness. They were about eye level with each other, but the other guy was definitely younger. J.J. took him to be about her age.

  “Just take it easy,” the stranger said. “I’m going to reach across with my left hand and remove my ID from inside my jacket. Okay?” He kept his movements slow and his eyes on Ness as he pulled out and opened his wallet. He held it up for Ness to read.

  “Says you’re a PI. How do I know that’s not fake?” Ness growled.

  The stranger sighed. “Look. My name is Ty Devine. I’m fully registered as a private investigator in the state of Vermont. Take a closer look at it. Feel the damned logo. It’s raised.”

  Ness did both, then grunted. “So what are you doing tailing J.J. Tanner?”

  J.J. had inched up behind Ness as he was speaking. Without looking at her, he said, “I thought I told you to stay put.”

  “I want to know, too. Answer the question, please.” She realized her voice was shaking and wished she hadn’t opened her mouth.

  Devine looked from one to the other. “I’m looking into the Antonio Marcotti murder.”

  J.J. gasped. “But why follow me?”

  “Who’s your client?” Ness demanded. “And why follow her?”

  “You know I can’t tell you my client’s name, but what I can tell you is I’ve been involved in this case before the murder. I was in the vicinity the night it happened, and I witnessed Ms. Tanner arguing with Marcotti, get into her vehicle, and leave. Marcotti was still alive at that point.”

  “What? You saw that?” J.J. said, her voice much stronger and louder. “Why didn’t you tell the police? Then they’ll know I didn’t kill him.”

  “I did tell the police. It just took me a day or so to do that. I needed to ensure certain things before doing that.” He leaned back against his car.

  “In other words,” Ness said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “you had to make sure your client was okay with your sharing the fact that you were tailing Marcotti? What’s the problem? The wife think her husband was fooling around on her?”

  J.J. shot a glance at Ness. “You got that out of what he just told you?”

  “What else would it be? You didn’t confront Marcotti and kill him yourself, did you?”

  Devine started laughing. “Good try. I left right after Ms. Tanner.”

  “So, you were following her? Does the wife think J.J. here was the mistress?”

  “What are you saying?” J.J. shrieked. “You’ve been following me for a while? You think I had something going on the side with the guy? Are you nuts?”

  Ness shushed her, and she realized an older couple walking their schnauzer were suddenly scurrying faster to pass them.

  “Let’s go inside and finish this conversation,” Ness suggested, looking pointedly at Devine.

  Devine shrugged. “All right by me.” He locked his car and followed them up to Ness’s apartment.

  Ness pointed to the living room. “Ness Harper’s the name. Do you want coffee?”

  “No,” J.J. said in unison with Devine’s “Yes.”

  Ness shook his head. “Go make yourselves comfortable.”

  When he joined them with two coffees, J.J. was sitting in a well-worn club chair next to the sliding patio door while Devine had chosen the leather recliner. His chair. Ness glared at him as he handed over the coffee.

  “So talk.”

  Devine took a sip first. Then another. “Let’s just say there’s been some concern that Marcotti had something going on the side and that a lot of money has been spent on gift items, namely jewelry.”

  Ness finished off his coffee in two gulps. “Hah. You think J.J. might be the one, and so you’re still tailing her, hoping to see when she goes out so you can search her apartment for the stuff.”

  J.J.’s jaw dropped open. “No way. You were going to break into my place? That’s illegal, and what makes you think I was fooling around with Marcotti? Could you not hear us arguing? Is that what lovers do?”

  Devine smiled. “Of course they do. Don’t try to play innocent.”

  J.J. jumped up. “I’m not playing. I am innocent.” She stopped just short of stamping her foot. That would make her look childish, she knew. “I only met the guy a few weeks ago.”

  “On March third. You’ve since been to his restaurant a couple of times.”

  “He’s doing, or rather did, a catering job for me. For my client. I needed to confer with him, and then I wanted to taste his food to make sure it was as good as I’d been told.”

  “You hired him to cater an event and you had no idea what his food tastes like?” Devine sounded
like he didn’t believe her.

  “I went with a recommendation from someone whose judgment I respect,” she huffed.

  Devine shrugged. “I’m dealing in facts here.”

  “You are not. You’re dealing in suppositions. The fact is, I hired him to cater an event. Next fact: he stiffed me with an unexpected addition to the menu. Next fact: we argued. That’s all I had to do with the guy.” She sat down abruptly and crossed her arms, then her legs.

  Ness looked from J.J.’s angry face to Devine’s amused expression. “Let’s call it a draw. J.J. was not his mistress, therefore you do not have to follow her any longer. And you certainly don’t have to search her place. J.J., you can now relax because the police know you’re not the murderer.”

  “Unless she snuck back there and killed him.”

  “You didn’t follow her all the way home?”

  Devine shook his head sheepishly. “I felt confident that’s where she was heading and equally confident that nothing else would happen at that hour of the night.”

  “Shows how wrong you can be,” J.J. threw in. “And, just for the record, I did not go back and kill him. I did go home and went to bed. It was almost three A.M. for Pete’s sake. I had to get back to the Portovino estate in just a few hours.”

  Devine stood. “All right, then.”

  “All right,” J.J. answered, standing also.

  Ness glanced from one to the other again and then stood. “Glad that’s settled. Good night to you both. Don’t slam the door on your way out, Devine. J.J., just wait a minute.”

  Devine nodded at them both and left.

  Ness waited a few beats after the door had closed. “I’m not totally sure how much I trust that guy. Be sure to lock up whenever you go out.”

  “Do you think he’s dangerous?” She felt a chill run down her spine.

  Ness shook his head. “He won’t physically harm you, but he still has a client, and I’d say he’s not about to quit.”

  CHAPTER 12

  So what did all that mean? J.J. wondered as she got ready for work the next morning. Ty Devine had told the police that Marcotti had been alive when she’d left, so she was in the clear. But then he had left soon after and hadn’t followed her home. So she might not be in the clear if he’d also mentioned that to the police.

  But why did he leave if he was supposed to be following Marcotti? Could he be the killer?

  Intrigued by the question, she added a long scarf in shades of neutrals to the long-sleeved white blouse and green pants she’d chosen, then stopped abruptly when she checked the mirror. Her pants were green and her jacket was red. She looked like a Christmas tree. Obviously, too much on her mind. And where had those green pants come from anyway? She vaguely remembered buying them on a lark at some point but thought they’d been relegated to the back of the closet. Obviously, they had to be added to the Goodwill bag. These days she started with blacks, adding a bit of color, something different, each day. It made life so much easier to build on black. She was working hard on her time-management skills.

  At the office, anxious to talk over the previous evening’s events, she waited patiently for Skye to finish a phone call with a client. She glanced down as she sat at her desk, just to make sure she had indeed changed to the black pants. All was good.

  Skye hung up the phone and raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows. Even from that distance J.J. could see that Skye had recently been to an esthetician, possibly even that morning.

  “What’s up?” Skye asked. “Have the police been bothering you again?”

  “Not the police,” J.J. answered, and then filled her in.

  “Wow. Being followed by a mysterious and handsome private eye.”

  “I did not say he was handsome.”

  “No, but you blushed when I did.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Anyway, Marcotti sounds like a total creep, cheating on his wife and stiffing colleagues. We got off lightly, I’d say, since he’s not able to continue to give us grief.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I know that sounds callous, but I didn’t know the guy personally and I do know what he did to you. Obviously, there’s at least one other person on his list who got shafted by the guy. I’m sure the police have discovered that by now, so I’d say the heat is probably off you.” She smiled and cocked her head. “Wouldn’t you?”

  J.J. sighed. “You’re probably right. I don’t have time to sit around worrying about this anyway. I have to finish the proposal for Olivia Barker today.”

  “You do that. It’s just what you need to take your mind off this murder business.”

  J.J. had made it to page three of her proposal when the office door swung open and Tansy Paine marched over to J.J.’s desk, put both hands on it, and leaned toward her. “Do you need a lawyer?”

  J.J. moaned. “What? No. What did you hear? I don’t think I need a lawyer.”

  “I think you should have one on speed dial even if you don’t need representation at this moment. I’m happy to recommend someone in case you do. I don’t do criminal litigation, you know.”

  Skye stood up. “Thanks, Tansy. J.J. was just getting all mellow and into her work, and you waltz in and bring it all up again.”

  Tansy stood straight, almost at eye level with Skye’s five feet three inches. “It’s all over town. Marcotti’s murder, that is. And I have it on the best authority that J.J. is a suspect.”

  “Who said that?” J.J. demanded.

  “A friend who shall remain anonymous. She’s a good pipeline into the police department.” Tansy straightened the hem of her orange jacket, which was just short enough to show off her tiny waist.

  “Well, I’m innocent, and I’m pretty sure they realize that by now.”

  Tansy reached over and patted her arm. “Why, honey, I’m just looking out for your best interests. I’m certain, knowing you, that you wouldn’t kill anybody, but the police need to solve this, and from what I hear, they’re not racking up a lot of other suspects.”

  She looked from J.J. to Skye. “I have to get back to my office. Piles of work to tackle. But just remember, I’m right across the hall whenever you need me.”

  J.J. sat mesmerized watching Tansy glide back the way she’d come, handling her four-inch heels like they were sneakers. Skye sat back down and shook her head.

  “She means well. I guess.” She looked at the Keurig coffee machine atop the cherry wood buffet that had once resided at her home. The closed doors held a wider variety of options. “I think I’ll go get a latte. Can I bring you anything? A latte?”

  J.J. nodded. “Yes, thanks.”

  She just gotten back into the proposal when the door opened again and Evan walked over to where Tansy had been standing.

  “I need to talk to you, J.J.”

  “Sure, Evan.” J.J. looked closely at him. His straw-colored V-neck sweater looked wrinkled and didn’t present his usual striking effect with the beige shirt that was under it. He mostly went for contrast. “What’s up? You’re looking weird. No offense.”

  He sat in the armchair across from her desk. “The police had me in for questioning last night.”

  “The police? But why? Was it about Antonio Marcotti?”

  “That’s right.” He tugged at his shirt collar as if he were wearing a too-tight tie. “You see, we had a set-to just after I finished the job for him. He took forever to pay me and gave me the runaround whenever I asked. Long story short, he eventually paid, but then the rumors about my work ethic started. I challenged him on it, and he just laughed and said who would ever believe me over him?” Evan slumped back in the chair looking dejected.

  “The man just gets viler by the minute. That’s much like what happened to me, that last part anyway. But that was a couple of years ago. Surely the police wouldn’t think you’d waited this long to kill him.”

  Evan crossed his arms and star
ed at the hardwood floor. “I just happened to run into him a couple of days before he died. Michael and I had dinner out, then stopped off for a drink on the way home.” He looked at J.J., who nodded for him to go on. “Marcotti happened to be there, too. I mentioned that he’d better treat you fairly, and he took a poke at me.”

  “He hit you?”

  “Yeah. And there were witnesses.”

  “You didn’t hit him back, did you?”

  “No. I’m not into that physical stuff. I did say something like he’d better watch his step, though.”

  J.J. groaned. “Oh no, Evan. Who were the witnesses? Are they reliable? Were they his staff? They could be seen as biased.”

  “We’d stopped in at the Hutch. You know that’s where a lot of the people in the business hang out after they close up shop. Unfortunately, a lot of them knew both of us.”

  “And you did that for me? I’m feeling bad that it’s ended you up in trouble.” J.J. went over and gave him a hug.

  “It’s not your fault. I’ve been wanting to confront him for a long time.” Evan flashed a small smile. “I could never prove he’d bad-mouthed me, but I could head him off this time, or so I thought.”

  J.J. sat back down and stared at her computer. After a few minutes of silence, she said, “And the police think you killed him because he hit you? That’s awfully flimsy.”

  “I think it is, but as Tansy says, they’ve got to pin it on someone.”

  “You’ve talked to Tansy about this?”

  “She waylaid me as soon as I got in this morning.”

  “That pipeline of hers is very fluid.” J.J. thought a moment. “Look, I need to get out of here and clear my head. Why don’t we go to lunch?”

  Evan shook his head. “Can’t. I have a client coming in half an hour. Thanks for the thought, though. So, you really don’t think the police are a threat?”

  J.J. smiled. “Nah. They’ve got two of us on the list now, and from what I’ve been hearing about Marcotti, I’ll bet there’ll soon be more. Despite what Tansy says.” She crossed her fingers anyway.