Toasting Up Trouble (A Dinner Club Mystery)

by Linda Wiken

  “Ah, she comes bearing a bribe. Must want something pretty bad.”

  J.J. still wasn’t totally used to Ness’s wry sense of humor. She looked hard to see if there was any sign he was joking—twitchy mouth, dancing eyes, anything? Nothing. She chose to take it as such, anyway.

  “Precisely, and I’m glad we can get right down to the point,” J.J. said, equally seriously.

  “Only after we have coffee and one of those delicious looking whatchamacallits. Homemade, of course?” He smiled and J.J. started laughing.

  “Not likely. You know, I have to admit, sometimes I’m still not quite sure how to take what you say.”

  “So you’ve said.” Ness shrugged. “That’s me. Come in. I’ll start the coffee brewing.”

  She followed him down the short hall, the mirror of her own apartment, at least as far as the layout. She perched on a stool at the counter while Ness went through the process of grinding coffee, measuring it out into the basket, and adding water to the glass Pyrex coffee percolator. She knew he loved his coffee and was always very precise about how he made it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen one of those percolators on the store shelves.

  “So, what’s troubling you, missy?” he asked, his back to her.

  “It’s this whole Marcotti business.”

  “I could have guessed that. What’s new?” He pulled out a stool beside her and sat to wait for the coffee to finish perking.

  “The latest is that Mrs. Marcotti was and is still having an affair. She’s had several, apparently, just like her husband.”

  “Hm. A possible candidate for the murderer. Do you know who the guy is?”

  “I don’t, but Devine does.”

  Ness raised his eyebrows. “Devine does. How do you know that?”

  “Because we talked to Mrs. Marcotti together. He told me to leave it alone when I tried pressing her for details about the latest lover.”

  Ness thought about it a few seconds. “Any ideas?”

  “No. Well, not really. Well, maybe. Just a question, really. What if it’s Devine?”

  “Devine!” Ness gave it some more thought. “Don’t see why it couldn’t be. What are you thinking?”

  “Well, he was at the Portovino estate, he admitted it. And we only have his word that he left when he said he did. Maybe that’s why he told the police about me—he wanted to divert attention.”

  “It’s possible. And he’s continuing with the investigation in order to deflect any suspicion from himself, should it arise.”

  “Exactly. That’s probably why he’s popping up all the time and harassing me.”

  “Harassing. That’s a strong word. It sounds like you two joined forces for the Marcotti meeting.” Ness looked over at the coffeepot, which was just starting to perk.

  “Well, yes, we did. But he could have manipulated me to do that.”

  “Hm. Who called who?”

  “Okay, I called him, but that part might not be important. He did tell me not to pursue it, after all. Oh, I know, there’s quite an age difference between the two of them, but it’s happened before, hasn’t it? And she is a wealthy woman, and he’s a . . .”

  Ness tilted his head. “He’s what?”

  J.J. felt her face turning red. “Some would say he’s a very attractive, sexy guy.”

  Ness stood and went to turn the stove burner down to low. “Let’s move into the living room. Much more comfortable there. I’m not really sure why I have these stools. Hate sitting on them.”

  J.J. perched on the edge of the worn tweed-covered sofa while Ness sat in his leather recliner across from her. She hoped he wouldn’t get back to the topic of Devine. She looked at the coffee table that separated them. The top was cluttered with magazines, newspapers, and what looked like a paper plate with some dried food on it. She tried not to judge.

  “So, what’s your next step?” Ness asked.

  She sighed. “That’s just it, I don’t know. Should I tell the police?”

  “I’m sure they’ve already checked him out every which way, but they should be told about the affairs, in case it hasn’t been mentioned before. Let them draw their own conclusions.”

  J.J. visibly relaxed and leaned back. “That sounds like a plan.”

  “I sort of get the feeling that you like this Devine guy.”

  She looked startled. “Like? Why would you say that? Well, I guess he’s okay. But I’m still a bit ticked off at him for spying on me, and he sure tried pushing me around when I made contact with Candy Fleetwood. That I don’t like. And if he’s having an affair—and worse yet, if he’s the killer . . .” She didn’t know how to finish the statement.

  “Hm. I’ll check on the coffee.”

  J.J. tried not to think about what Ness had said. Like the guy? Sure, in a casual, “we keep bumping into each other, so might as well be friendly” way. But not anything more. That was for certain. Her cheeks felt a bit flushed again, and she touched them.

  “Here you go, fresh coffee the way it should be made, not with these pods and cups and what have you. Here, take one of your decadent whatevers. I tried one already. Feel free to bribe me anytime with this stuff.”

  He put the tray on the coffee table and sat across from her again. After looking at her a few moments, he smiled and shook his head.

  She had a hard time getting to sleep. Of course, it was the coffee. She knew she shouldn’t have had one at that time of night, much less the second cup she’d accepted. And then thoughts about Ty Devine kept flooding her brain. How could he be so deceitful? How could he be having an affair with a married woman? Okay, she wasn’t so naïve as to believe it didn’t happen all the time. But Devine?

  He was handsome in a rugged sort of way. It was the eyes. That intense blue got her every time. It should have been a warning. Her ex-fiancé also had blue eyes but not so piercing. She thought about him for a while, remembering their good times and then the brutal betrayal, him sleeping with a prospective client their company was wooing. He swore he’d done it strictly to get the account, but he knew that J.J. had also wanted it. That whomever brought it in would get a promotion. She gave herself a mental head slap. Stop thinking about the scumbag. Great word for him. She smiled and tried to calm her mind, but Devine crept in again.

  She should have been glad if he was the lover, and hence the murderer. Her search would be over. But how to prove it? She doubted he’d slip up in any way if she tried sweet-talking him. He was an experienced investigator, and she was sure he’d faced any number of tough guys—and manipulating ones—in the past. Could she go back to Gina Marcotti on her own and play on her feelings, hope she’d name Devine as her lover, which might give him a motive to be the killer? Surely she wouldn’t want to continue with him if that were the case. Unless she was in on it.

  J.J.’s eyelids shot open. That had to be it. No, it didn’t. She’d already decided that Gina had no need to be rid of her husband. Not for money, that was for certain. But what if for love? Oh man, this was driving her crazy.

  Eventually, she dropped off, but she felt every bit of the lack of sleep the next day, and she had the big meeting with Olivia Barker coming up. She scrambled to get ready the next morning, and ordered an extra-large double-shot latte on her way to work.

  As she was walking past Evan’s open door, she heard him call out. She detoured into his office. “Good morning, Evan. You wanted to talk to me?”

  “Yup, it is a good morning. And I do want to talk if you have a minute. It’s about Tansy.”

  Uh-oh. “I hate to ask, but what now?”

  “She said you were going to speak to me about the paint? Did we have that conversation?” He leaned back in his chair, and she noticed for the first time a small paunch straining at the buttons of his yellow dress shirt. She’d heard that Michael was a great cook, although it was usually Evan who did the hono
rs whenever she’d been invited over.

  “No, I forgot. There’s been so much going on lately. But I did promise her, so here goes. She’s right, you know. We do need to freshen the place up. Think of the clients.”

  “You’re right.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes, I’ve been thinking about it, and she’s right, too.”

  “Did you tell her that?”

  “No, I thought you’d like to, since it was your task to talk me into it.” He smiled and sat forward abruptly. “She knows how to change tactics all right.”

  “It was in exchange for her doing something that had to do with the case.”

  His smile faded. “You know, the police came by to see me again yesterday.”

  “Oh no. What did they want?”

  “They’d really like for someone other than Michael to give me an alibi, but what they asked was, had I ever been to Rocco G’s and when?” Access to the knife.

  “That at least means they haven’t closed the case.” J.J. jumped up. “I’m sorry you’re under fire again, Evan. Tell me if there’s anything I can do.”

  She meant it, but she was now anxious to get out of there and find out if Rocco was still in jail. This, along with what Alison had mentioned about the surveillance on Candy, must mean the major heat was off Rocco.

  He waved his hand. “Nothing. There’s nothing at the moment. Thanks, anyway.”

  J.J. went over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry. I’m sure this will be resolved soon. But let me know if anything crops up, okay?”

  Evan nodded.

  J.J. ran up the stairs and stopped at Tansy’s office door, hoping she would agree to call the police and check on whether Rocco had been released, especially once she heard the good news about the paint.

  “Tansy is out at the county records office,” Izzy told her.

  Okay. It could wait. Maybe she should call Rocco G’s and ask. She went back to her desk and was about to do so when the phone rang. A new prospective client. Mrs. Jewels Stanton, wife of Clayton, well-known Burlington defense attorney and always in the local top-five wealthiest list. J.J. tried to contain her excitement as she spent the next half hour supplying some background about Make It Happen and gathering details about the upcoming Stanton fiftieth wedding anniversary celebration in return. They agreed to meet the following week.

  J.J. silently thanked Lorenzo Portovino for recommending them to the Stantons, as she gathered her jacket and purse to head for Kirking Manufacturing. Her call to Rocco G’s would have to wait.

  J.J. was asked to wait in the reception area until Olivia Barker joined her. She wondered where the other event planner was. She hoped Ms. Barker wasn’t in a meeting with her. That wouldn’t bode well.

  She could picture them sharing a coffee and a laugh as they delved into plans for the retirement party. At some point the interloper, as J.J. had come to think of her, would ask what J.J. had proposed, already knowing, of course, and would then introduce her own latest idea in such a way that anything else sounded amateurish and second rate. Barker would absolutely love the ideas. They’d end up with a quick hug, and Barker’s secretary would appear to tell J.J. she wasn’t needed anymore.

  Talk about a worst-case scenario.

  J.J. tried not to fidget. Just stay calm. She picked up the latest issue of Vermont Life from the end table and flipped through it, all the while going over in her mind all that she wanted to make sure to say at the meeting.

  Finally, the receptionist looked over at J.J. and told her Ms. Barker’s assistant was on the way. J.J. swallowed to dispel the panic and looked up to see a young and pert woman wearing a navy pantsuit, white shirt, and flat shoes, obviously trying for an older and in-charge look, heading her way.

  “I’m sorry you had to wait, but Ms. Barker is just finishing up with a supplier.” Her smile was sincere, as was the tone of her voice. J.J. relaxed as she continued, “Sometimes these things run over, you know. Let me show you to her office and I’ll get you some coffee or water if you’d like.”

  J.J. followed her to a small but tastefully decorated corner office with a fourteenth-floor view of the lake on one side and the Burlington skyline in the distance from the other.

  “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.

  CHAPTER 29

  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.