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Roux the Day

Page 2

by Linda Wiken


  J.J. shrugged her shoulders and held that position for a count of ten before slowly releasing. And again. Temporary relief at best. Oh well, time to get on with it.

  She added the matching sandal and took a close look at herself in the full-length mirror. The black sheath ending a good four inches above her knees looked elegant but also allowed for maximum movement. Her jewelry was discreet but classy. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself tonight. She needed to blend in and weave her way through the various stations—the gambling, the food, and the dance areas—keeping an eye on everything, ready to do damage control if necessary.

  She double-checked that her trusty satin black hobo bag held her mini-bible, a paper backup copy of critical phone numbers, menus, and playlists for the dance floor, and lists of contacts for everything from technical support to the Coast Guard. She’d never planned anything afloat before, and to ease her own mind, she’d hired some first-aiders. Still, she wanted to make sure there was a backup plan in case someone broke their leg trying to skip down the stairs between decks after too many drinks, for example.

  She took a final look in the mirror to make sure her thick, long dark hair was securely fastened in a butterfly clip, checked her teeth for any stray lipstick, and took a deep breath.

  Indie, her two-year old Bengal cat, wound his way around her legs, then tried to stretch, using the bed skirt for support. J.J. scooped him up, holding him far enough away so that she wouldn’t be covered in cat hairs, kissed his head, and placed him on the bed.

  “I’d really appreciate no tears in the bed skirt. Please and thanks. See you later, baby. I’m off to an evening of fun, frolic, and frivolity.”

  She made it out the front door before Indie came bounding along the hallway after her. Passing the door of her neighbor Ness Harper, she inhaled deeply, enjoying tonight’s main dish. “Hmm, smells like chili. I hope he has leftovers to share tomorrow.”

  She knew she’d be famished by then. She could never eat the afternoon of an event and relied on a protein drink instead. And she’d never eat at the event, either, although she’d be awfully tempted tonight. She’d hired Epicurial Expressions to cater and had figuratively drooled over every dish on the menu. She’d been thrilled when Chef Henri Rousseau had her sample the cassoulet and the lentil salad with goat cheese and walnuts. A taste of the salted butter caramel-chocolate mousse in small individual servings, one of the choices for the dessert table, had added five hundred calories to her day’s total, she was sure.

  She left her car in the parking lot at the downtown dock of the Crowder Sightseeing Line and found the skipper of the evening cruise waiting for her in the office.

  “I’m Jessica Smith,” said the tall fortyish-looking woman in the white nautical uniform complete with a captain’s cap in her hand. “I’m happy to meet you. Sorry I couldn’t make it in earlier when you were setting up everything, but I’ve looked it over and I’m sure it will all run very smoothly.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. You’ve had a chance to look at the schedule?” J.J. looked around the small room with a view of the harbor. Nice place to work.

  Smith nodded. “We’ll just set a course north,” she explained, tracing a path along a map on her desk, “hugging the shoreline so that people can take in the view while it’s still light and hopefully also enjoy some of the sunset. We’re lucky that the weather forecast is so cooperative. Mild temperatures and calm winds are perfect for an evening’s cruise. Then we’ll head outward and circle until we’re heading back toward Burlington. We’ll aim to be at the dock by one A.M. Does that sound right?”

  “It does sound perfect. Did you get a chance to look at the food and sound equipment that were brought on board today? I hope the placement works out okay and nothing’s in the way.”

  “Not my worry. I leave all that to the Crowder staff. They know what they’re doing. You’re not the first charity casino cruise, you know.”

  J.J. felt her cheeks get hot. Of course she wasn’t. She was coming across like a real first-timer, which in a way, she was. Time to dial it back a bit and trust others to do their jobs properly. Still …

  “Well, that’s good to know,” J.J. said absently, her mind traveling back to earlier in the day when she’d been on board the Lady of the Lake for the arrival of the gaming equipment. “Can I get on board right now? I’d just like to take another look around.”

  “It’s all yours.” Smith went over to a mirror hanging on the wall and tucked her short blonde hair back behind both ears before donning her cap. J.J. thought it added authority along with a few inches in height to the captain. “You’ve booked it right through and I’m pretty certain some of your crew are working there right now.”

  My crew? She must have meant the DJ, the caterers, or People and Causes board members who’d volunteered to be croupiers and the like tonight. J.J. had set up a Saturday workshop for them a couple of weeks earlier so that everyone would know their jobs. She’d also attended the workshop and learned more than she ever wanted to know about gambling. She knew she’d hate losing money too much, so she’d never even tried her hand at any of it. You didn’t have to be a player to know that this would probably be a big money-raising event. At least she fervently hoped so.

  She excused herself and retraced her steps past the parking lot and over to where the ship was berthed. The boarding gangplank was set up and unattended. That worried her. The security company she’d hired had someone on hand while everything was being loaded on board and was supposed to still be on duty until relieved by the evening guards. Where was he? What if a thief tried to sneak on board and steal some equipment? She hurried her pace and almost tripped stepping onto the walkway. Fortunately, its sides were filled in with navy canvas sporting the name of the cruise line, otherwise she’d have a tough time walking aboard. Heights plus open spaces were a bad combination, making her nervous.

  She’d just stepped down onto the deck when a young man in uniform appeared from behind a stack of chairs.

  “I’m sorry, this is a private charter,” he said, then took a closer look, realizing whom he’d addressed. “Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t recognize you at first.” His cheeks were beet red. Not a good look for a security officer, J.J. thought.

  “No problem. I’m glad you’re so vigilant.” J.J. stared at the space behind the young man. “Where did those chairs come from?”

  “They were just delivered, and the guy didn’t know where they were going so he just left them. Is that okay?”

  J.J. sighed. It had started. “Not really. We’ll have to get them out of the way. I’ll just take a quick look around the decks and see where they’re best used.” She smiled to hide her frustration and went in search of the indoor stairs to the upper deck. The dance deck.

  She noticed right away that the groupings of chairs and bistro tables took up all available space around the dance floor. She’d have to find another location for the new additions. She took a closer look around to make sure everything was in place. The DJ had covered his equipment with a cloth tarp before leaving. The floor was a good size. Everything looked set.

  Back on the main deck, J.J. walked to the rear—aft, she remembered—and ran a critical eye around the outdoor portion. Half of it was set up with buffet tables for the caterers. The menu she’d chosen was cassoulet and sautéed shrimp, along with three salads and four veggie dishes, plus for dessert, a variety of cheese and fruit, along with the salted butter caramel-chocolate mousse, all served buffet style. There were several round tables and chairs in place; however, she thought they could add the new chairs for intimate tête-à-têtes. She knew guests wouldn’t hesitate to rearrange chairs to suit their needs. Inside, the gambling equipment was just as she’d left it a few hours earlier. She glanced at her watch. The volunteers should be arriving in an hour.

  She liked this point in the preparations, when most things were in place. Just the food and cash tables to add. She’d gone through her mental checklist and the one on her smartphon
e and couldn’t find anything missing. This was when she felt like she’d done her job. In eight hours she’d find out if she’d accomplished her objectives.

  • • •

  She heard a van pull up on the dock close to the ship, and she hurried to the side, fingers crossed that it was the caterer. The white van displayed the colorful Epicurial Expressions sign on the side. She’d never used them before and she was a bit on edge after an incident she’d had in the spring. This time, she’d reread the contract last night before leaving the office. Nothing had been added after signatures and such. Chef Henri Rousseau had turned out to have some clever suggestions for a menu. All would go well.

  She greeted them and then stayed out of their way as they finished unloading. Much to her relief, the DJ for the evening followed them on board.

  “You’re here early,” she said to him.

  He tugged at his dark goatee. His closely cropped brown hair and large glasses gave him an owl-like quality. His white shirt and black tux were a surprise. J.J. was used to seeing him in jeans and a plaid shirt when they’d met to go over his playlist. “I like to be early for a first-time gig in particular. It helps to impress the client.” He grinned, and she relaxed, feeling for the first time that all was going to come off without a hitch and it would be a memorable evening.

  When she next checked her watch it was six P.M. and time to meet up with Megan Spicer, the board chair of People and Causes. They both approached the cabin that had been designated as the greenroom at the same time.

  After a quick air kiss, Megan spoke first. “I’m both excited and nervous about tonight. Does that make sense?”

  My sentiments exactly. “You’ve been thinking and planning for a long time, and tonight it all comes together. Do you have any questions for me?”

  “Not really. Oh yes, I guess so. I was wondering if Connor is here yet.”

  “Not that I know. Both he and Miranda should be here in about fifteen minutes or so to do sound checks before any guests start arriving. You look lovely, by the way. That shade of pink really lights up your face.”

  J.J. meant it. Megan Spicer moved with an elegance that made it hard to peg her age, even more so tonight, as she was wearing a long, dark pink, almost rose-colored chiffon dress with long sleeves, scooped neck, and low back. She wore her naturally blonde hair in a severe bob swept over to the left side of her face. She didn’t need jewelry or anything else. She looked fabulous.

  “Why, thank you, J.J. That’s so sweet of you to say. Umm, did Connor happen to say anything about doing this event?”

  “Only that he felt honored to be asked.” Also, quite surprised, J.J. remembered but didn’t add. She’d been curious about his response but hadn’t asked any questions.

  “I’m so pleased to hear that. What about Miranda?”

  J.J. wondered where all this was leading but instead answered, “Equally honored and pleased.”

  Megan nodded as she looked at her watch, a Michael Kors she wore on her right wrist. “Good. Now, I’d better go find Sue. She’s one of the most competent executive directors we’ve had, and I know she has everything from our end under control, but I like to make sure.”

  “I was just going to find her, too. The volunteers should have all arrived by now, and I’d like to have a few brief words with them.”

  “We’ll find her together.” Megan hooked her arm through J.J.’s.

  Sue Fischer’s brilliant red-orange hair stood out like a beacon that J.J. and Megan homed in on. It also helped that Sue was wearing a lemon yellow silk blouse with a long multicolored skirt. The volunteers had all gathered around her at the dance area on the top level. Sue finished her talk to them, then turned to the new arrivals.

  “Everyone is ready and eager. Did either of you have anything to say to them?” Sue asked.

  Megan stepped forward. “I’d personally like to thank each and every one of you for taking part tonight, board members and volunteers alike. I really appreciate that you’re putting in the extra time and effort for this event and want you all to know that. Also, I hope you’ll all enjoy the evening.”

  After the applause died down, J.J. looked around at all the faces before saying anything. “I, too, want to add my thanks and just remind you that I’ll be everywhere at all moments—well, that’s my fantasy. But if you need me, I’ll be floating around all evening, and you know who your point people are. Those in the red golf shirts.” The six people waved their hands. “I’ll be in contact with them by walkie-talkie at all times and have the answers to all their questions. Again, another fantasy.” She’d hoped for some chuckles and was relieved to hear them. “Have fun tonight.”

  She waited until Sue was free and then pulled her aside. “Do you have everything you need or is there anything you want to ask me?”

  Sue took a deep breath and held it a few seconds. “Not that I can think of. I’m so looking forward to this, and also to the end of the evening when I can put my feet up and enjoy a large glass of wine.”

  “Gotcha. That’s my goal also. Don’t worry. All the bases are covered. Nothing will go wrong, so enjoy.” J.J. said a quick prayer to let it be so, as she went in search of the two emcees who hopefully had arrived.

  She found them on the upper deck talking to the DJ, who told her they’d just completed sound checks on both decks. J.J. gave them each a hug, although she’d met Miranda only once before.

  “I’m assuming you know each other, both being media VIPs.” J.J. said it with a teasing smile. “Is everything okay? Will this work?” J.J. asked as she swept her arm in a circle, indicating the room.

  Its sides were enclosed by windows, and the DJ had set up along the right. Starboard, J.J. remembered as she looked around at the layout. Several groupings of chairs with small round tables had been strategically placed, also along the edges of the dance floor, for those who needed a break or preferred to sip and watch.

  Connor slid his arm around J.J.’s shoulders. “It looks cool. You’ve done a great job of planning this, J.J.”

  She glanced at Miranda and saw a fleeting look of something. Dismay? Distaste? One of those words.

  “Thanks. You both know where the greenroom is? Just walk outside and it’s a couple of doors forward behind the wheelhouse. We’ve put out some refreshments in there for you, so please enjoy. I’ll come and get you when it’s time to start. You’ll also have a pretty good view of the shoreline as we set out. It’s supposed to be a spectacular view.”

  J.J smiled and excused herself, feeling uncomfortable but not really sure why. She and Connor were very good friends and had been dating, or rather, going out occasionally, ever since she’d joined Culinary Capers several months ago. They’d both agreed at some point that there was nothing more than friendship between them, and she was more than okay with that. It’s just the vibes he’d been giving off tonight, maybe suggesting there was a bit more going on. But why? Only Miranda was with them. Had he been trying to make an impression on her? Why? To gain her attention? To make her jealous? J.J. shook her head. She’d think about it later. Right now she needed to be on her game. The guests were arriving.

  CHAPTER 3

  Hours later, J.J. stood watching the many guests who’d opted to stand at the railing to enjoy this final loop around the southernmost islands as the ship headed back to port. The weather was perfect, a still-mild sixty-eight degrees, just as the evening had been. Only the slight glitch here and there, all of which had been swiftly dealt with. She was certain none of the attendees had even noticed anything amiss. But she wasn’t ready to breathe a sigh of relief yet. Not until she was back at home, shoes kicked off, a glass of wine in hand.

  She did take a few minutes, though, to enjoy the view. Even at this distance the Burlington skyline was a series of jewels flickering against the dark backdrop. She’d grown to love the city, and especially Half Moon Bay, even though she’d lived there only a couple of years. It had what she wanted—a manageable size so that everything was accessible; an acti
ve cultural scene; more nightlife than she’d ever need; and an ever-changing palette through the seasons. She sighed and made herself get back to work.

  There were still quite a few ardent gamblers trying their luck at the various games, most seeming to have a good time. She’d been keeping her eye on one man in particular, a stocky blond guy who looked to be in his early twenties and seemed to have had a lot to drink as well as a lot to lose. Although there was a maximum amount set on the number of chips each player could purchase, he didn’t seem to be taking his losses in stride. She’d alerted security to this and was relieved to see one of the plainclothes guards hovering close by.

  On the upper deck the numbers of dancers were fewer, with more seats taken up at the tables, and laughter filling the air. She looked around for Connor and Miranda. They’d soon be needed to wrap up the evening and thank everyone for attending. They’d been an excellent choice as emcees, very easygoing and humorous when performing, keeping everyone in smiles and much laughter. The initial tension she’d felt between the two emcees at the first meeting was nowhere to be seen.

  J.J. walked along the deck to the greenroom. Connor met her at the door and gave her a big hug.

  “It’s been a terrific event. You’ve done an amazing job. You must be pumped.” He held her close a couple more seconds.

  “I am,” she mumbled against his chest. “But I’m also exhausted.”

  She pulled back and looked behind him in the direction of the footsteps running from the wheelhouse. One of the male crew members looked over at her and beckoned. She took one look at his face and rushed to follow him, Connor right behind her, back into the wheelhouse.

  They’d just pulled the door closed behind them when Captain Smith said in a low voice, “There’s a dead body on the main deck.” She pointed out the front window.

  J.J. gasped.

  Connor moved next to her. “Who is it?” he asked.

  “A woman.”

 

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