Toasting Up Trouble

by Linda Wiken

  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.”

  “Why?”

  “It is a murder case. They don’t often let go of their prime suspect.”

  “But he’s a businessman with ties in the community.”

  “Have you ever thought of becoming a lawyer? No? Probably a good thing. We’ll just have to wait and see, but the lawyer is all over it, so don’t you worry. Now, I think Evan might be in his office this afternoon.” She looked pointedly at the door.

  “Thanks, Tansy. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  J.J. wanted to head back to Rocco G’s to see if there was anything she could do, but she had promised Tansy. She squared her shoulders and took the stairs down to Evan’s domain. A smile spread across her face when she saw the Closed sign on his office door.

  She ran back upstairs, dropped the color chips on her desk, and grabbed her purse. “I’m just heading over to Rocco G’s to check on things. I’ll be back real quick,” she told Skye.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll hold down the fort.”

  J.J. walked as fast as her heels would allow but found another Closed sign when she reached Rocco G’s. The lights were all off and nobody seemed to be moving around. Of course not. Both Zoe and Hank had done their jobs and then locked up when their shifts were over. A flicker of light caught her attention, and she cupped her right hand against the window and tried to peer in. There was somebody in there, she was certain. A burglar? The bistro would be a prime target for anyone who knew Rocco
was in jail and that the part-timers had left by now. What to do? Call the police?

  She pulled her smartphone out of her pocket and was about to punch in 911 when the person pushed open the door to the kitchen. There was enough light with the door open that she could recognize Hank Ransom. J.J. started pounding on the door. Ransom looked over at her and, without a moment’s hesitation, backed into the kitchen and flicked off the light. J.J. tried knocking twice more but that didn’t get her anywhere.

  Had it even been Ransom? If so, why wouldn’t he open the door? Probably because he didn’t want to answer any more questions. That hadn’t been her initial reason for going to Rocco G’s, though. But what had she been thinking, that she could offer a helping hand? She wasn’t in the restaurant business. It was really none of her concern. Except, in a way, it was. Rocco had been really nice to her, giving her all that advice about cooking Italian. She felt she owed him for that. And they both had issues with the same guy, who was now deceased. There had to be something she could do.

  Okay, Hank Ransom. You’re definitely on my to-visit list. But at the moment, the best she could do was go back to the office, come up with a dazzling idea for Olivia Barker, and check one more thing off her list.

  CHAPTER 17

  J.J. knew the black car parked in front of her office building. A 2014 Acura driven by Ty Devine, if she was correct. She approached with caution, wondering what he was doing there, but at the same time wanting to avoid him.

  On second thought, she needed to talk to him and at least let him know about Rocco. That is, if he didn’t already know. But knowing Devine, he was well aware of everything happening with the case.

  She leaned over and tapped on the passenger window and felt a bit pleased when he looked startled. He got out of the car and leaned on the roof to talk to her.

  “Guess you caught me unawares.” He grinned.

  “Looks like it. Am I right in assuming you were waiting for me?”

  “No. Actually, I didn’t know you weren’t here. I was just listening to the end of the newscast on the radio, and then I planned to pay you a visit. Maybe you’d like to hop in the car and we could go get a coffee and talk.”

  “Or maybe we could walk the block over to Cups ’n’ Roses and get a coffee and talk.” She raised her eyebrows in challenge.

  “Okay by me.” He pocketed his key fob and joined her on the sidewalk. “Lead the way.”

  “You don’t know Cups ’n’ Roses?” she asked in mock shock.

  “Can I plead to not knowing this entire area at all? I recently moved to Burlington and haven’t really had the need nor the opportunity to visit the outskirts.”

  “Outskirts? We don’t take kindly to that kind of talk. Half Moon Bay is a very important part of the greater Burlington area. Besides, how can you not know about a scene like this?” She gestured in front of them. Gabor Avenue appeared to end right in the bay.

  “It looks great, but it also looks like many other parts of the city that border Lake Champlain. How long have you lived here?”

  “Almost two years.”

  He stopped and looked at her in surprise. “You were sounding like a born and raised Burlingtonian there.”

  “And I’m surprised you didn’t know. Haven’t you been digging around in my private life while trying to find out if I had a fling with Marcotti?” She was surprised and pleased that maybe her privacy hadn’t been invaded.

  “I look at the details relevant to a case. Your childhood would have no bearing on this matter, unless of course there was an even more sinister, deeper motive at play.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not, which irritated her. “There isn’t.” She stopped and pulled open the door to Cups ’n’ Roses. “This is Half Moon Bay’s finest coffee shop, owned and run by my good friend Beth Brickner.”

  Devine followed her to the counter and paid for two lattes.

  “Thanks,” she said as she sat down at one of the tables for two.

  “Don’t mention it.” He took a long sip of his latte. “This is good.”

  “I told you. So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

  Beth appeared at their table with two biscotti on a small plate. “This is on the house.”

  “Wow, thanks so much, Beth. This is Ty Devine.”

  “The PI? Really!”

  Devine looked pleased. “Absolutely. And besides being the bearer of really delicious-looking treats, I gather you’re also the owner?”

  “Beth Brickner.” She stuck out her hand. “I throw all modesty to the wind and avow that I am the owner of this place, voted number one in the Half Moon Bay Village News for one straight month in a row. And, I’m also a member of Culinary Capers.”

  “I should know that name?”

  “Well, duh. You’re sitting here with one of our newest members. Superb Italian cook J.J. Tanner. She didn’t tell you? Or rather, you didn’t discover that in your investigating?”

  J.J. smiled. Score another one.

  “Actually, no to both. What is it?”

  “The best darn dinner club around.” Beth pulled over a chair from the next table and sat. She broke off half of one of the biscotti and chewed on it. “There are five of us who take turns hosting a dinner each month. The significant part is that each person chooses a cookbook, and from it, an entrée. The rest of us then pick something to go with it from the same book.” She leaned over and patted J.J.’s hand. “J.J. did a mean turkey pizzaiola Sunday.” She sat back and cocked an eyebrow. “Do you cook?”

  Devine laughed. “I know my way around a kitchen. Well, I am impressed.” He looked at J.J. “And is that how you know Rocco Gates?”

  J.J. nodded. “He’s my Italian-cooking guru.”

  “Then I’m sorry. I have some bad news for you.”

  Beth glanced at J.J. and then over at the line forming at the counter and stood and excused herself, pushing her chair back in its place.

  “What? It can’t be much worse than what’s already happened,” J.J. said, bracing herself.

  “He’s being detained for further questioning.”

  “I knew that.”

  “Of course you did. Why am I not surprised? And I’ll bet you’re still certain he’s not a murderer.” Devine stirred his latte but didn’t take a drink.

  “Of course he’s not. They had history, but that doesn’t always lead to murder. Is that really why you wanted to talk to me?”

  “Yeah. I suspected you had a connection there, beyond your pumping him for information last time we met. I thought you should know.”

  J.J. smiled. “That was thoughtful. Thanks. Now, if you can just come up with the name of the real murderer, you’ll be my hero.”

  Devine laughed. “Such an easy task. On the upside, this places you closer to the bottom of the suspect list.”

  “So I’ve been told. Do you think the police will still keep investigating, or will it be a slam dunk now with a prime suspect in hand?”

  “Hard to say. I haven’t worked with Detective Hastings before, but he seems to be thorough. I’d like to think he’ll keep looking.”

  “Which is why I’m still on the list.” She looked down at the plate. Empty. Oh, well. You snooze, you lose.

  “Yeah. Tell me what you know about this feud between Gates and Marcotti.”

  “Well, Rocco didn’t talk much about it. In fact, all he admitted was that the feud was over a woman, when they still lived in Italy. He did say they left at about the same time to come to the US, but I’m not sure why they settled in the same area.”

  “Hm. Seems rather odd if they were enemies. I’ll look into that. Maybe Mrs. Marcotti will know. Is Gates married?”

  “I think he’s a widower. We didn’t talk about family, just mainly about olive oils and anchovy substitutes. So is the wife still looking for the other lover?”


  Devine grimaced. “Nice try.”

  J.J. leaned forward on her elbows. “And you really don’t think that Candy Fleetwood is the murderer?”

  “She’d be better off to murder the wife, don’t you think?”

  “Well, what if there is someone else and she didn’t like being cheated on? How weird would that be? He’s still with his wife but cheating on his mistress, as well as on his wife. Huh. What a crud. What?”

  Devine looked like he was trying to suppress laughter. “You just can’t help it, can you?”

  “Huh?”

  “Digging around in it.”

  “You’re the one who wanted to tell me about Rocco.” She tried to look affronted but knew she hadn’t pulled it off.

  Devine looked at her a moment before answering. “But not to get you involved any deeper.”

  “Not true. You were hoping I’d know something and tell you.” She stood. “Not today, sorry. But thanks for the latte.”

  Devine beat her to the door and held it open for her. She mumbled another thank-you and walked beside him in silence until they’d reached his car.

  “He didn’t do it, Devine. I truly believe that.”

  Devine nodded. “See you.”

  J.J. sat at her desk staring at, but not seeing, the photo of a snow covered bridge on the wall opposite. She felt like pounding her head on the desk. Maybe that would unleash the brilliant idea that was just floating around inside her brain, waiting to be harnessed.

  “That photo’s not going to tell you a thing,” Skye finally said. “You’ve got a good start on the whiteboard. Would you like me to brainstorm with you? It would be less painful than watching you.”

  “Why are you watching me? I thought you had your own proposal to finish.” She looked at Skye. “Thanks for the offer but I’m almost there. I can feel it. The trick is, if this competitor is thinking along the same lines I am, I have to totally switch tracks to best him or her on this. I can’t suggest anything predictable.”