Roux the Day

by Linda Wiken

  J.J. bit into her panini, enjoying the warm crust mingled with the melted mozzarella, tomatoes, fennel, and eggplant. She glanced at the iPad and read a couple of pages, managing a quick visual scan of the room from time to time. She’d tried to draw out eating as long as possible, but she’d finally come to the end and her latte was cold. She realized she must have made a face when taking the last sip, because Beth appeared at her table in an instant with a fresh cup.

  “Thanks, but I’m afraid I’m not doing much to earn this.”

  Beth leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Early days.” She straightened and went on, “I’m willing to keep on going if you are.”

  J.J. glanced around the room. “Okay. For now.”

  She looked at her watch and sipped her latte a bit more quickly than she’d normally do, all the while keeping an eye open to what was going on around her. All pretense of reading had been put aside. When she finished, she walked up to the cash register and explained, “I have a meeting in an hour. I’m sorry but I need to go and do some prep.”

  “No problem. Thanks again. I do appreciate it,” Beth answered. “Now go. Remember, it’s on the house.”

  J.J. thought about the whole thing on her way back to the office. How could she justify the time and the cost of lunches to Beth, if she couldn’t catch the thief? How long should she continue? The main problem was she just wasn’t the best person for the job. She’d had no training as a private eye. She could ask Devine for suggestions, but she hated to feel indebted to him.

  Skye greeted her at the office with a small wave. She was cradling the phone receiver between her shoulder and right ear, busily inputting something into her computer. J.J. sat down and turned hers on. She pulled up the new conference file she was working on and slowly read over all her notes. She knew the salient points by heart but wanted to ensure they’d come to her quickly in this meeting. The Wine Growers Association account was another first for her. First in the wine field, at least. She knew she could handle it but she first had to convince the conference committee. The meeting at two P.M. would either ensure she had the job or have her looking for a new client. Not that she was desperate to find one. Business was good these days.

  Skye finished her call with a too-bright sign-off. J.J. looked over at her, eyebrow raised.

  “That was my contact at Northanda. They want to go to a classy resort. Can you believe it? After all the explaining I’ve done? If they put their money into the setting, they won’t be able to pay for a first-class trainer and some of the unique experiences I’ve planned. The employees don’t need to feel like it’s a spa weekend. They need to dig in, and deep, to rebuild the team. I tried to lay out my plan and at the same time, firmly but kindly discourage theirs. And where does it get me?”

  J.J. shrugged. She knew better than to take part in this conversation. It was Skye’s usual rant, and by the time it was finished, she would have resolved it, on her own, with no need for J.J. to add any input.

  J.J. smiled to herself as Skye wound up the soliloquy and seemed to refocus. “How was your lunch? Did you catch a thief?”

  J.J. shook her head. “Not today, but Beth wants to continue with this so I suppose I’ll oblige, although I think I’m getting the best of it. Her lunch specials are really tasty.”

  “I’m glad the meals are working out for her. What’s on your afternoon agenda?”

  “After my two o’clock meeting with the wine people, and after our brainstorming session if you still want it, I’ll do some revamping of the website. We’re already into fall, and I had great plans to change the look of the page in keeping with the season. At least, I had planned that our new webmaster would do the revamping. I’ll jot down some notes, rewrite some of the sections, have you look it all over, and send it off to him. How’s that sound?”

  “Like you’re on a roll. But you can skip the ‘having me check it out’ bit. And I’m afraid I’ll have to brainstorm on my own at some point later. I’m taking a quick trip to Montpelier overnight to meet with some suppliers of high-end promotional items. They’re holding an invitation-only reveal and I’m delighted we’re on the guest list. Next time a client wants classy and different, I can do classy and different.”

  “Oh, I definitely know you can do that.” J.J. shook her head and grabbed her things. She was at her client’s office in ten minutes.

  • • •

  J.J. settled back in at her computer and pulled up the Make It Happen website on her screen. It had been a good client meeting with no changes made to her plan. So now she was on a roll and looking forward to dealing with that pesky website. She quickly read it through and made notes about what needed to be changed or updated.

  Then she started writing the article she’d been planning, “Thinking Outside the Wedding Box.” They didn’t do many weddings, not wanting to compete with the local wedding planners, but there was always the odd time when a client would expand their original job to include a wedding. It would also be good PR to post something on weddings, along with a list of local planners. J.J. smiled when she’d finished. She printed out the article along with the updated course outline for the night school class on event planning that she and Skye were developing.

  They’d debated about doing Wednesday classes for four weeks, dividing the evenings between them, or doing two weekends. Since neither wanted to tie up weekends, the evenings won. Skye would be first up. The two-hour class was being held at the Grange Bay Community Center on Grange Road at the edge of the village. They’d discussed inserting the course into the school board evening curriculum, but the amount of red tape had changed their minds. But the city’s Parks, Recreation, and Waterfront department had fewer hoops. She was looking forward to the challenge but was also a bit concerned about what kinds of questions the participants might bring. She so hoped she could answer them all. She saw herself fumbling for the right answer to an overly eager student’s question and having the rest of the class start laughing at her. By that point, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t even get a word out. She stared wildly around the room, hoping to find a friendly face, but couldn’t. She couldn’t take it anymore and had run out of the classroom straight into the arms of Ty Devine.

  Devine! Where had he come from? She shook her head and realized it was time to go home. The day was over and she hadn’t even tried to talk to Hennie Ferguson at the TV station again. She glanced at the clock. Five fifteen. Maybe …

  CHAPTER 13

  Hennie agreed to meet J.J. at the Olde British Pub, just down the street from the TV station, after the show ended, at seven thirty P.M. She was waiting when J.J. arrived.

  “Thanks for agreeing to meet me,” J.J. said. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to do anything more today after being at the station so long.”

  “I’m used to it. The job, the hours. I really thrive on it all and I usually do go out after work, to wind down.” She looked different today. J.J. thought the low-cut neckline of her pale green satin blouse was more of a glam look. Her dark hair, held back with bobby pins each time J.J. had seen her before, was pulled back and secured with a hair clip. She’d even added had some eye shadow. Did she have a hot date later?

  Hm. “Did you and Miranda ever go out together?”

  Hennie gave her an odd look.

  “I mean, after the show to wind down. That just popped into my head.” J.J. grinned apologetically.

  “The odd time, if a gang was going out. Miranda didn’t join in too often, though, and it was never just the two of us. We were never that close.”

  She picked up the menu, obviously wanting some food. J.J. had planned to buy her a drink. Oh well. The server had obviously been waiting for that movement and appeared at the table. After they’d given their orders for a glass each of on-tap beer and a plate of spicy sweet potato fries for Hennie, J.J. got down to business.

  “I’m sure the last thing you want to talk about on your free time is what’s been happening, but I need to know a few more things. I
hope you don’t mind.”

  Hennie shrugged. “What makes you think I know the answers?”

  “Your job. It is your job to know everything or where to find it, isn’t it?”

  Hennie’s grin was lopsided. J.J. realized she hadn’t seen her smile too often. She wondered if Hennie was self-conscious about her smile or her teeth. Maybe she just didn’t feel like it most times.

  “Got it in one. Most people at the station don’t get it. They don’t realize how much a research assistant does. If I don’t get the info, Miranda or whoever doesn’t have a show. Unless they know it all themselves, which is highly doubtful.”

  J.J. smiled back. This is where she wanted Hennie, feeling very pleased with herself as the keeper of the information. Their beer arrived, and J.J. waited until Hennie had taken a few appreciative gulps.

  “Do you think Donald Cooper is right and Miranda’s murder is part of a plot against the station?”

  Hennie looked like she was giving it serious consideration, then took another drink and shook her head. “No way. I mean, who would be so pissed off with the place that they would kill the entertainment chick? Huh? You go for a news reader or someone who has the power, the influence on the viewers. Not entertainment.” Her snort punctuated her disbelief.

  “That’s very perceptive. I hadn’t looked at it that way. So who else might have wanted to kill her? Kathi?”

  Hennie shook her head. “As I said, not her style.” She sat quietly staring at J.J. as if sizing her up.

  “Okay, I may know a bit more about her private life than I let on.” She leaned across the table toward J.J. “She was seeing a guy. A married guy. A cop.”

  “Oh.” J.J. wondered if Connor had known. What? And killed her? Don’t go there.

  “Do you know his name?”

  She shook her head. “She didn’t tell me. I’m pretty sure she met him while working on a feature interview. It never went to air, though. Oh yeah, and she’d broken it off a few months ago, and he was really pissed off about it.”

  A married cop whom she’d dumped. Maybe when things started getting heated up with Connor? Did that part matter? Was the cop a possible suspect? She made a mental note to call Alison as soon as she got home.

  Hennie seemed to have said all she would on the topic. She concentrated on finishing the fries, offering some to J.J., who took a couple since she’d be paying for them.

  Hennie sat back and wiped her hands with the paper napkin, then grabbed a lip gloss out of her purse and applied it without aid of a mirror. “I can’t really think of anyone else. There are always a lot of things going on at the station, mostly ‘under the surface’ stuff so it’s hard to know who started what rumor or who’s sleeping with whom.”

  “She was sleeping with someone at the station, then? Lonny Chan maybe?”

  “Oh, get real. Lonny’s gay. He thinks nobody knows but we all do. He’s such a great guy, and no one’s going to let on because it’s not as if we’d treat him any differently. But they were just good friends.” She finished off her beer. “Nope, nada. There’s no one at the station I’d put on the killer list.”

  What about you?

  J.J. wanted to ask but she also didn’t want to cut off her pipeline. She’d have to ask someone else that question. Maybe Wanda, the receptionist. Surely she’d be aware of all the comings and goings anyway.

  “Speaking of Lonny,” J.J. said, “I’ve been trying to talk to him but he seems very elusive. Could he be avoiding me?”

  “I doubt it. He’s on the road a lot or editing video. We don’t even see much of him. Besides, he was Miranda’s friend but not her good buddy. You probably won’t get much news from him.” Hennie glanced at her watch and pointed at the restroom. “I’m heading in there, then I’ve got to meet some friends.”

  “Right. I’ve got the check. Thanks for meeting with me.”

  Hennie did a swift salute and headed for the back of the room, where she’d pointed.

  • • •

  Indie sat next to the phone on the counter, just staring at it. J.J. glanced at her before walking into the bedroom and changing into something more comfortable, yoga pants and a loose denim shirt. She padded back into the kitchen in bare feet and eyed the phone that Indie still sat watching.

  “You are spooking me, Sir Indie. Is there a call for me?”

  The cat ignored her but did leap down to the floor and sprint over to his favorite chair, the white wicker chair with the blue-and-white-striped cushions, where he started his usual intricate grooming routine.

  J.J. watched for a few minutes, then picked up the receiver. Sure enough, the beeping signaled a message was waiting. She punched in the numbers, then her password, and stood more erect as her mother’s voice sounded in her ear.

  “I’m coming to Burlington for the weekend, arriving tomorrow night. I certainly hope you can put me up. The love seat is fine. Or if it’s inconvenient, I’ll take a hotel room.”

  J.J. could just picture the sly look that would go with her suggestive tone. June Tanner made no bones about wanting her only daughter to get married and provide more grandchildren, although she never came straight out and told J.J. to get working on it. The implication was there, though. Odd coming from someone who was very much her own woman and had a successful career. J.J. shrugged. She was used to it and also to her mom’s abrupt messages. No sign-off. That was the Realtor in her.

  J.J. glanced at the love seat and knew her mother would find it less than comfortable for the next night or two. There were two positions to choose from—feet propped up on the arm or curled up, fetal position. She sighed and called her mom back and tried to sound pleased about the upcoming visit. The thing was, she really enjoyed spending time with her mom. As with most teen girls, their relationship had been rocky for a while but when J.J. emerged on the adulthood side of life, they became closer. It was just more convenient for the bonding occasions to take place at the Tanner household in Montpelier.

  June Tanner answered on the fourth ring. “I’m sorry for such short notice, Josephine, but I just need to get away for a couple of days.”

  J.J. cringed, mainly for being called by her first name but also because this didn’t sound like her mother. She thrived on the hectic life of a Realtor and the home life of being the wife of a fairly well-known artist. With all the kids moved away, there was little housework to do. J.J.’s oldest brother, Rory, lived in Stowe with his wife and two children. Middle child, Kyle, was a firefighter in Rutland, unmarried, and also getting the regular messages about the grandness of grandmotherhood.

  “It’s all right, Mom. I don’t have anything planned this weekend. When will you arrive?”

  “Probably not until around nine or so. That’s great. I’ll see you then. Bye.”

  J.J. hadn’t gotten a chance to ask if everything was all right. Fine. She had her as a captive roommate for the weekend. She’d get to the bottom of things.

  CHAPTER 14

  The lineup at the Cups ’n’ Roses ended at the front door the next morning. J.J. took one look at it and decided she needed a walk to Rocco G’s instead. Besides, she hadn’t talked to Rocco in a couple of weeks, which was way too long in her books. He turned around from restocking the olive oil shelves as she entered the bistro. His swarthy, lined face broke out in a broad smile.

  “J.J., I am so happy to see you.” He walked over and kissed her on both cheeks. “I’m guessing you’ve been busy, because you haven’t been in here much lately.”

  “I’m sorry, Rocco. That’s it exactly. And I guess you heard about what happened on the casino cruise?”

  He shook his head. “Another murder. That is not so good for you. Have the police found the killer yet? I don’t keep up with the news much these days.”

  J.J. took a closer look at him. His curly black hair, salted with streaks of gray, just about touched the collar of his purple short-sleeved sport shirt. The longer look gave him an even more dashing quality, she thought. His eyes looked tired, thoug
h.

  “No, they haven’t caught the killer, and that means none of us who were involved with the event are free of suspicion.” Nor free of guilt.

  “I know what that can be like.” He shook his head. “Is there anything I can do? After all, you were there for me.”

  “Thanks, Rocco. But I don’t think so.” She let her eyes rove over the calorie-laden choices on a pedestal cake plate under a clear glass dome. “I have to find Connor Mac, for starters.”

  “Your boyfriend, the radio announcer?”

  J.J. looked up sharply. “My friend, the radio announcer. Yes. He was sharing the emcee role with Miranda Myers the night she died, and he’s disappeared.”

  Rocco made a clicking noise with his mouth. “The police must not be happy. What a foolish thing for him to do.” He thought a moment. “You don’t think he’s in danger or maybe has been kidnapped, do you?”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it but doubt it. I don’t know why his life would be in danger, unless he knows something that might lead to the killer. And I don’t know if there have been any ransom demands, because I have no idea who they would go to. In fact, I’m finding that I don’t really know much about him at all.” She let out a long sigh.

  He grimaced. “That is often the way. What if he witnessed the murder or knows the identity of the killer?”

  “He didn’t say anything to us, and he had plenty of opportunity to do so. No, I don’t think that was it.” I hope it wasn’t.

  “Well, what if the murderer doesn’t know he didn’t see anything but still thinks he had? He might have done something to him.”

  J.J. blanched.

  “I’m sorry, cara. I did not mean to upset you. Just thinking out loud.”

  “No, you’re right to voice it, Rocco. We need to cover all possible bases. I just hope you’re wrong.”

  Rocco covered her hand with his. “Let me make you my special espresso. Perhaps you can take a few extra minutes and enjoy it here?”