by Linda Wiken
“Uh, what’s the magic word?” Lola looked so expectant that J.J. had a minute’s sympathy for her. Then she remembered that Ness liked his privacy.
“I can’t remember how it started. And we don’t socialize a lot.” She thought a moment on how best to get it across to her. “He keeps to himself and he wants others to do the same.” There. It was said. She couldn’t be much more direct about it.
Lola’s face slid into a pout but only for a few seconds. “Well, that just makes him more of a challenge and there’s nothing I like better than a challenge.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh dear, I have to run. Ellen is just about to start.” She popped out of her chair.
J.J. had to admire her energy.
At the door, she turned to say, “It’s been so nice talking to you, dear. I hope we can do so again and, who knows, maybe we’ll become good friends. You might put in a good word for me with Ness, too, if you don’t mind. I have plans for the man.”
Oh wow. Poor Ness.
*
• • •
On Monday morning, J.J. hurried into the office knowing she had a ten o’clock client call with the Tense Tesher Bride, as she liked to think of Trish Tesher. She waved at Skye, who was already on the phone, and flipped her computer on. Pulling up a file, she went over all the items she’d checked off as having been done on Friday and then pulled up the new to-do list. She breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, there wasn’t much left on it. By ten she’d tied up a couple of other loose ends and felt prepared to deal with the intense Ms. Tesher.
Skye finished off her call and then unabashedly listened to J.J.’s end of the conversation a few minutes before breaking into a grin. J.J. made a face at her and deliberately turned so that she wouldn’t see Skye in her peripheral vision. That’s all J.J. would need, to start laughing when talking to her already insecure client.
They were only five minutes into the call when J.J. choked on the coffee she’d been sipping and started coughing uncontrollably. Skye rushed over and grabbed the phone, apologizing and saying that J.J. would have to call her back. She vigorously rubbed J.J.’s back until her breathing was back to normal.
“What was all that about?”
J.J. grimaced and grabbed a bottle of water from her desk drawer, downing a long swig before answering. “I thought the plans were going so well that I wasn’t prepared for her latest request.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“She wanted me to draft a memo to her bridesmaids and maid of honor, with several rules laid out.”
“Rules?”
“Well, in all fairness, she did call them guidelines.”
“Uh-oh. Such as?”
J.J. stood and started pacing. “For starters, there are the hair rules—don’t get it cut without bride’s permission. The same with getting a dye job. Then she moved into the area of weight control—no one is allowed to gain extra weight before the wedding. When she reached the one about no one being allowed to have sex the night before, well, that’s when I lost it.”
Skye groaned.
“Exactly. What am I to say? You’re nuts? That won’t cut it. How do I persuade her to drop this?” She continued pacing until Skye grabbed her arm and sat her back in her chair.
“You do what the bride asks. She is the client, after all.”
Before J.J. could protest, Skye held up her hand. “Listen, these bridesmaids must all know her pretty well by now. They may not be surprised to get such a memo from her. In fact, she may have already spoken to them about it and just wants it written down at this point. Whatever. The worst that could happen is she’ll lose an attendant or two. Maybe even three, but she has seven to begin with. So just run with it. She is the client.”
J.J. sat, considering the suggestion. She picked up a pen and absentmindedly started clicking it on and off. “She’s weird, don’t you agree?”
“Most definitely, but that’s no concern to us. Agreed?”
J.J. dropped the pen with a deep sigh. “All right. Agreed. Do I need to call her back right away?”
Skye laughed. “Coward.”
J.J. took a deep breath and dialed Trish’s number. After some apologizing she got back to the topic of the memo and continued taking notes.
By the end of the call, J.J. was desperate for a latte or an espresso. Skye had left the office partway through so J.J. locked up after herself and headed up the street to Cups ’n’ Roses. Anything to get her mind off the anxious bride.
Beth nodded at her, and after a few minutes joined J.J. at the table. She carried her own mug of coffee in one hand and two chocolate croissants on a plate in the other.
J.J. moaned when she saw the goodies. “You do realize I’m trying to practice weight maintenance. And you know those are one of my favorite treats. Why do you do this to me?”
Beth chose one and then set the plate in front of J.J. “Because I know how much you enjoy them and also, but more importantly, because you look in great need of something sweet in your life right now. Grueling day at work?”
“You could say that.” J.J. took a bite and moaned with pleasure. “A client is driving me nuts right now and I cannot wait until her wedding happens in a couple of months. I’ve never done any wedding planning before, and if this gal is any indication of what happens, then it’s the last one I’ll do.”
“Oh my. Weddings can be so stressful, though such a joyful occasion. I remember planning my own, although that was almost forty-four years ago, so I’ve probably deleted the really bad parts from my mind.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, let me see, I was only eighteen when Rob proposed and my parents were adamant that we were too young. And, many years later, I saw the wisdom in their ways. They made us wait until we’d both finished college, but what made it bearable was I used that time to do the planning. My mom made the dress, and once she saw that we were not to be deterred by a few years’ waiting time, she got started, and I had my fittings to look forward to each time I came home for weekend visits.”
“Why did you agree to wait? I somehow see you as a stubborn young woman.”
“I was, but Rob’s mom got sick around the same time and he was preoccupied with her, along with his schoolwork, and I knew it was already going to be hard for him.” She shrugged. “So, I agreed to the wait.”
“And did you have any challenges with the planning?”
Beth looked around the room before answering. “I can probably take a bit longer break, since you’re asking for my help. You are, aren’t you?” She grinned.
J.J. grinned back and nodded. “I need inspiration or else some Valium.”
“Well”—Beth folded her hands together and leaned forward—“the other major challenge was having too much help—which is a polite way to say, too many opinions—when it came to decorating the Elks Hall where we were having the reception. Everybody from Rob’s great-aunt to my dentist’s receptionist had ideas and weren’t shy about sharing them. And, since most of those people were on the guest list, I had to tread lightly. I was terrified one of them would confront me at the reception and ask why I hadn’t gone with her suggestions.”
“Sheesh, that is a lot of stress. So, what did you do about it?”
“In the end, I handed the entire decorating task over to my mom. Let her face the blowback.” She chuckled. “It was the chicken thing to do but I wanted to enjoy my wedding day, not be on tenterhooks.”
J.J. laughed. “Pure genius. Now, if I could hand this over to someone in the bride’s family, I’d be all set.” She thought about it a minute. “I can’t do that but I have talked briefly to her sister. Maybe she has some ideas on how to handle the bride. Thanks, Beth. You may have saved my sanity.”
Beth waved off the thanks as she headed back behind the counter.
Back at the office, J.J. quickly tied up some loose ends for the Franklin Dance Studio event then, to try to clear her head, she pulled up the file for the Vermont Wine Growers Association confe
rence scheduled for the following spring in Burlington. She’d already booked the venue and arranged for special hotel rates for the out-of-town attendees. She noted that she was still waiting for quotes and menus from two caterers. She’d give them another week and then send reminder e-mails. Those were the major items and the starting points for the event. The conference programming would be handled by their own volunteers but J.J. was available to assist if needed.
She went to their website and scrolled through the members’ postings, enjoying the various menus with wine pairings that had been posted. Maybe she could work out a way to include the website in the Culinary Capers dinners. She’d have to give it more thought. Another day.
By the time J.J. shut down her computer for the day, she was ready for a quiet evening at home. However, it might also be the ideal time to catch Lauren Tate at home and on her own. J.J. detoured down Bay Avenue and made a left on Forrest Street. In about ten minutes she pulled up in front of a small but ultramodern-looking condo building, a mixture of austere natural-color cement blocks and dark wood beams. The windows all looked to be ceiling to floor. So much for privacy.
She ran through in her mind what she wanted to ask Lauren and then sat stock-still. What if Lauren was the killer? J.J. wasn’t so sure her self-defense skills, acquired along with a certificate after a one-day workshop at the community center four years ago, would be helpful. It might be wise to have backup. Devine came to mind. And she knew he’d be angry if he found out she’d done this alone. But Evan wouldn’t lecture her.
She punched Evan’s number into her smartphone and waited through the five rings until the message function kicked in. So much for that. She’d call Devine, after all. She got the same response but this time left a message saying where she was and what she planned to do. At least there’d be a trail. Silly thought. Lauren wasn’t about to attack her right in her own home. She took a deep breath, got out of the car, locked it, and walked over to the building.
J.J. found the unit with Lauren’s name on the buzzer but was hoping to slip inside the building without having to alert Lauren to the visit. Her wishes were granted when a middle-aged woman bundled up in a fake fur jacket and carrying a yapping shih tzu came rushing through the door. The woman didn’t spare a second glance at J.J., who slipped inside before the door closed.
She had to go one floor up to Lauren’s, something they had in common. But it ended there. Even the hallway screamed money. She hesitated before knocking on the door, trying to visualize what could happen.
When J.J. mentioned the name James Bailey, Lauren would completely lose it. She’d stand toe-to-toe, right in J.J.’s face, ranting about how he’d ditched her right out of the blue, how she’d never gotten over losing him, and finally admitting that she’d had enough. She saw him and followed him to Alison’s, where, in a rage, she smashed the back of his head with a heavy rock, found the door to the SUV open, and stuffed him inside and locked it after. Just what she’d now threaten to do to J.J.
J.J. shook her head. Ridiculous. Just knock.
The door opened almost immediately and J.J. stood facing a woman in her late twenties, with wavy red hair cascading below her shoulders, dressed in a figure-hugging silver workout tee and black leggings, standing at least four inches above J.J. even in bare feet.
J.J. guessed she must have dwarfed poor James. Maybe he liked that.
“Yes?”
“Hi. Are you Lauren Tate?”
The woman nodded but didn’t add a welcoming smile. She didn’t even look faintly interested; in fact, J.J. worried she might close the door.
“I’m J.J. Tanner and I hoped you could spare a couple of minutes to talk about James Bailey.”
That got a reaction.
“Why would I do that?” Menacing didn’t even begin to cover the look she gave J.J.
“Because I’m a friend of his wife’s and I’m trying to find out what happened to him. And I thought you might like talking to me better than to the police.” There. Say it like it is.
Lauren’s facial expression changed in a second. She smiled and stepped back, holding the door open. “You’re too late but I’d sure like to know how Alison is doing. Really bummed out, I hope. You know, I didn’t kill him but I’m glad there’s been payback and now she’s the one to suffer.”
“You said that to the police?” J.J. couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice. She sat in the nearest chair, a straight-back in the hall.
“Of course I did. They must have known I’d threatened him otherwise they wouldn’t have come here. So I thought I’d just lay it on the line. They can take it or leave it because I didn’t do it and they have no proof I did. I’m telling you the same thing.”
She flopped on the sofa, folded her arms, and gloated. Totally not what J.J. had expected. It threw her off for a few seconds.
“Do you have an alibi?”
Lauren gave a small nod. “Of course I do. That’s probably why I’m still sitting here. I was out of town that weekend and I have airplane tickets to prove it. The police have already checked.”
“So, even after all this time you still held a grudge?”
Lauren shrugged. “He dumped me. Of course I did.”
“Would you tell me a bit about your relationship?”
“Like, what?”
“Well, what kind of things did you do? Where did he work? Did you meet any family or friends? I’m trying to get a better feel for the guy.”
She stretched her arms in front of her, interlocked her fingers, and smiled. “Well, he wined and dined me. I thought he must have lots of money.”
“And he didn’t?”
“Oh, but he did. Why do you think I tried to get him back? He had money and looks, just what a girl wants.”
A brain might be nice, too. And a sense of humor. Kindness. Integrity.
“So, where did he work?” J.J. asked.
“I don’t know. I asked, of course, but he always changed the subject.”
“What did you think about that?”
“Maybe he was a spy or something?”
“Seriously?”
Lauren shrugged. “You never know, and that just made him even more mysterious and desirable.”
J.J. was dying to ask about how intimate their relationship had been but thought she’d rather not know. Besides, it could have no bearing on his death. Perhaps.
“How long did you date?”
“Nine months, like a pregnancy. And you can be sure I was expecting something at that stage.” She held out her left hand and wiggled her fingers. “Nine frigging months and I didn’t get a thing out of it. Can you believe that creep?”
J.J. didn’t have an answer to that. “Can you think of anyone who might want him dead?”
“Nope. It turns out I didn’t really know much about him after all. The police asked that also, by the way.”
J.J. glanced around the room hoping to come up with something more probing to ask. Nothing.
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t keep you. Thanks for being so candid.”
Lauren grimaced. “I really didn’t kill him. It so happens I have a great boyfriend so even though I still resented James for dumping me, I wouldn’t have taken the time to do anything about it.”
“Is your boyfriend also rich?”
Lauren had a Cheshire cat smile on her face. “Of course. And old. That’s a good combination, don’t you think?”
J.J. was reluctant to say what she did think so turned away. She’d opened the door when she thought of something. “Just one last thing. When was the last time you saw James?”
“I didn’t see him again after that last time I showed up at their house. At least, I may have been watching him a bit, from time to time, but we didn’t talk.” She pulled the door out of J.J.’s hand and opened it wider. “Wait, I’d forgotten. I did see him a few months ago, in Plattsburgh at a car dealership of all places. At least I thought it was him. Cooper had been a judge at a dog show that day and we were headed back to
our hotel. I was pretty sure it was James who I saw walk across the lot and around back. It was late at night, though, and the place was closed. So, it couldn’t have been him, could it?” She nodded like this all made sense.
J.J. wasn’t sure what to say to that.
CHAPTER 12
J.J. remained in bed once her alarm had gone off, going over her day’s agenda in her mind. She definitely had to finish off the Tesher wedding plans if she was going to have any peace of mind. But the main problem was, she couldn’t stop thinking about this murder. So peace of mind would be hard to come by today no matter what she did.
She’d just grabbed her espresso when someone knocked on her door. Ness? Maybe with an offering of leftovers from his evening meal? That would make a tasty treat for lunch, she was sure. She opened the door to see an annoyed-looking Ty Devine and bit back her usual retort.
“I wondered why I hadn’t heard back from you,” she said instead.
“We need to talk.” Devine held out his hand, indicating she should go back inside. After he’d closed the door behind him, he reached out for her arm. “Don’t tell me you went to see the Tate woman alone.”
J.J. turned and looked at him. “I did. I tried to find someone but no one was able to go with me. But I did leave you a message.” She smiled, hoping to change his mood.
“What have I told you before about murder suspects being dangerous?” His tone matched the anger in his face. Her attempt obviously wasn’t working.
“So, you do think she’s a suspect, too.”
“I don’t know enough about her to know that. But you’re going to tell me, aren’t you?” The muscles in his jaw relaxed slightly, as did the tension in J.J.’s shoulders.
“Would you like an espresso? As you can see, I’m unharmed and at no time did I feel threatened.”
“What would you have done if you had?” Devine followed her into the kitchen.
“I do know some self-defense.”