Jack frowned, hearing the slur in Maureen’s voice. “Have you been drinking?”
“Ooh,” Maureen mocked. “Who are you, my keeper? We just had a couple of cocktails at The Nest. Not that I need to explain myself to you.”
With a frown, Jack paced the room, wishing he wasn’t so far away from the woman who both agitated him and excited him in equal measure at the same time. He felt a spike of jealousy, remembering the night he’d first met her in the same bar she’d just mentioned. She’d captured him with her witty conversation and down-to-earth openness. The thought of Maureen flirting with another man tonight the way she’d done with him…he tried to push the image out of his mind.
“I meant I could do with a drink myself and would have loved to have been there with you,” Jack said. “I miss you, my darling. I’ll be in Seattle again soon, and I’ll show you how much.”
Maureen giggled. “You naughty boy. I’m kind of busy at the moment, so make sure and give me plenty of notice.” He heard her swallow and surmised she was still drinking.
“I’ll check my schedule and let you know. Or maybe you could come here and visit me, how does that sound? Call it a mini-vacation. I’ll send you a ticket.” Jack was pleased with his quick thinking. “We can stay in a fancy hotel. I know a place you’ll love.”
And my mother won’t be able to interfere, he thought to himself. Maybe if Maureen gets a taste of the life she could have here, I can persuade her to stay longer.
There was a pause. A long pause. Maureen’s response eventually came out in a squeak. “To Kansas?”
“Yes,” Jack said, before hastily adding, “or if you’d prefer we go on vacation somewhere else, we could do that instead. Wherever you want to go, sweetheart, I’ll take you there.”
“Jack, you’re so sweet. It’s just…there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I was planning on doing it in person but I’m not sure that it can wait.” Maureen gulped, then blurted out, “I can’t see you anymore.”
Jack’s jaw slackened, and he felt a lurch in his gut that wasn’t caused by the meatloaf he’d eaten for dinner. “Maureen, I love y—”
“It’s nothing to do with you,” Maureen interjected. “Jack, you’re amazing, but you and I met at the wrong time. You see, my ex, Mac, and I—we’ve been talking about getting back together. Although I haven’t agreed to anything yet, I feel like it’s not fair to lead you on. It’s been wonderful getting to know you. Please believe me when I say I wish you all the best and hope you meet someone else who will love you the way you deserve. Goodbye, Jack.”
With a click, Maureen was gone. She hadn’t given him a chance to reply, and Jack was left wondering what had just happened. Instead of being angry, his resolve to win her heart was heightened even more, if that was possible. She’d said it herself, the timing was just off. And nothing was final with the ex-husband. Jack was sure if he could speak to her in person and show her how serious he was about her, he could make her change her mind.
He scrolled through the calendar on his phone, mentally calculating what appointments he could juggle around in order to make it to Seattle later in the week. With a little tweaking, he saw he could alter his schedule and probably make it work.
“Ursula, it’s Jack,” he barked into the phone, putting a call through to his secretary’s voicemail, so she would get it first thing when she arrived in the company’s regional office in Kansas City. “I need to go to Seattle on Thursday. Book the flights and reschedule my calendar. I’ll be using the company condominium at the Waterfront Palace, so make sure it’s available. If there’s any overlap, move the other people to a hotel. Oh, and I’ll need champagne and flowers waiting there when I arrive. Charge them to my personal credit card. Don’t let me down, I’m counting on you.”
Most of the time, Jack was an easy-going boss, and he had put in a good word for Ursula in the past when some of the other executives had been giving her a rough time. He was confident she’d come through for him and do whatever was necessary to get him the use of the condominium on such short notice.
His company did a lot of business with Asians and Canadians, which was why they had bought a small condo at the Waterfront Palace. It made commercial sense as a good long-term investment, as well as being cheaper than having their people who travelled constantly to Seattle stay in hotels. For Jack, it was perfect, since Maureen was staying in a bigger unit upstairs in the same building.
The only thing left to focus on was how to win back the woman he loved. If he was unsuccessful, the alternative was painful to contemplate. As Jack tossed and turned in bed that night, thoughts of Maureen with her ex-husband flashed through his mind, anger gnawing at him. By the time he left for work the next day, after a sleepless night and unable to eat any breakfast, he knew there was only one solution.
If Jack couldn’t have Maureen, he would have to make sure no one else could either.
CHAPTER 2
Al De Duco entered the kitchen of his sprawling shoreside home on Puget Sound on Bainbridge island. There was no one around, but he followed the smell of freshly brewed coffee through the open doors out onto the patio, where his wife of three months, Cassie, was sitting outside.
He leaned down and kissed her cheek, lifting a piece of toast from her plate as he did so, and bit into it with a crunch. “Mornin’,” he said with a grin.
“Hey.” Cassie tried to grab the toast out of his hand, but Al was too fast for her, his hulking frame sauntering over to the edge of the patio and down the stone steps into the lush green garden. Colorful plants and bushes dotted his line of vision. He stopped short at the sight of the husky dog sitting by the water’s edge at the end of the garden and let out a loud whistle.
“Come, Balto,” he commanded, and the dog instantly turned and came bounding towards him. “Good boy.”
When the dog reached him a few seconds later, Al crouched down to run his hands through Balto’s black and white fur, before retracing his steps to rejoin Cassie at the table on the patio, Balto at his heel.
Cassie smiled, and poured a mug of coffee for Al, watching her husband spoon fresh fruit over the granola she’d laid out for him, and then heaping on yogurt and honey.
“Will you be home for lunch?” Cassie asked, “or shall I fix you something to take with you to work?”
Al shook his head, his mouth full. “It’s okay,” he said eventually. “I need to stick to someone today. Harry’s comin’ with me. Should be fun. We’ll eat on the go.”
Ever since Al had taken over their friend Jake’s private investigation firm while Jake and his wife DeeDee were away, Cassie had picked up enough of the terminology to understand Al meant he would be following someone. Al had commented a few times about the small fry cases he was involved in not being as dangerous as he would like, but all indications to date were that he was enjoying his new line of work.
“What’s the case?” Cassie asked.
“Woman thinks her husband’s up to no good, so we’re tailin’ him. So far, all we got is he goes bowlin’ when he says he’s workin’ late. He’s in some sorta’ league.”
“Maybe he’s seeing someone at the bowling alley,” Cassie suggested, getting up to go into the kitchen.
“Or maybe he just likes bowlin’,” Al called after her, sipping his coffee.
Cassie reappeared a few minutes later with a wire rack stacked with fresh wholegrain toast and set it down in front of Al. She turned her head at the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway at the front of the house.
“Probably Harry,” Al said, not hurrying to finish his breakfast.
“Is Harry on the payroll now?” Cassie knew the men had worked together in their former days when they were both involved with the Mob, and Al seemed to like having Harry drive him around.
“Only now and then, like when I need him,” Al said. “Rob’s based in the office and covers all the background checks. Luke’s been helping out as well, ever since he quit the police force after his fiancée was m
urdered. But Harry and me go way back. I kinda’ like havin’ him for company and there’s no better driver when you need to get somewhere in a hurry. Balto likes him too, don’tcha, kiddo?”
Balto wagged his tail, right on cue.
Cassie remembered her one experience of being in a car with Harry. They had been helping Jake and DeeDee solve the murder of Luke’s fiancée, who was poisoned by the chocolate cake she had for dessert in a Seattle restaurant, Le Bijou Bistro. “Rather you than me. Harry’s idea of getting somewhere in a hurry is quite frightening if you’re an unsuspecting passenger along for the ride. But I guess he gets the job done.”
A tall, dark-haired young woman rounded the corner of the house. Cassie smiled at the sight of her daughter, Briana.
“That nerdy friend of yours is waiting in his car out in front of the house, Al,” Briana said, “with the engine running. Old habits die hard, I guess. Harry, that’s his name, isn’t it?” She sat down, and swiped Al’s last piece of toast.
Al groaned, while Cassie chuckled. The animosity her daughter had felt towards Cassie’s new husband when she and Al were first married had since disappeared and had been replaced with mutual respect and a lot of easy-going banter.
Al rolled his eyes. “It’s Harry the Hatchet to you, young lady.” His voice was stern, but there was a twinkle in his eye.
Briana returned the eye-roll. “Is that what’s in the heavy bag he carries around all the time? His hatchet?”
Al shrugged good-naturedly. “Think we might be stoppin’ by the bowlin’ alley later, so maybe it’s his bowlin’ ball.” He drained the dregs of his coffee, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and stood up. “Ima off. Have a great day, ladies,” he said with a bounce in his voice, kissing Cassie goodbye.
She watched him stride off with Balto trailing behind him and then turned to her daughter. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? I thought you would be going flat out getting everything ready for the big summer party at the Waterfront Palace. How’s that coming along?”
Briana sighed. “That’s why I’m here. I need your help, Mom. I’m totally out of my comfort zone with this party. I’m an interior designer, not an event planner. Why I agreed to oversee the party preparations, I have no idea. If anything goes wrong on Friday night, I’ll probably never get work in the Northwest again. Mario Carlucci and Joe Li, the developers of the Waterfront Palace, will be furious. The guest list reads like the Who’s Who of Seattle.”
Cassie studied her daughter’s face. There were dark circles under her eyes. Traces of the concealer Briana had used were visible where she’d tried unsuccessfully to hide them. Cassie summed up the situation in an instant.
“I know you want to use this party so you can showcase the interiors of the Waterfront Palace that you’ve designed for prospective clients, darling, but running yourself into the ground in the process isn’t supposed to be part of the plan.” She leaned towards her daughter and smoothed the young woman’s hair. “Tell me all about it, and I’ll see what I can do to help.”
Briana’s expression brightened. “I think I’ve just about got the staffing and drink issues under control. The party’s in the penthouse which is immaculate, but the chef we’re using is complaining that the kitchen facilities are inadequate to cater for so many guests. He says his food will be ruined. Can you believe he’s threatening to cancel unless I can come up with a solution? There’s no way we can get a replacement caterer on such short notice. The party’s only a few days away.”
Cassie thought for a moment. “You’ve hired Chef Chastain, right?” Cassie was the restaurant critic for The Seattle Times and knew him from the Food Spy column she wrote weekly for the newspaper.
Briana nodded. “Yes, Mario suggested him, since Mario’s such a good customer of his restaurant, Canlis. I know we’re lucky to get Chef Chastain. I’ve heard he doesn’t cater many outside events, but it’s as if he’s doing us a very special favor, and he constantly brings it up.”
“He does have a reputation for being temperamental, but it comes with the territory,” Cassie said.
Balto reappeared, his head hanging, and Cassie exchanged a look with Briana. “Just like someone else we know, right, Balto?” Cassie got up and met Balto halfway across the patio, kneeling down to stroke him. Balto let out a sad whine. “I think this poor doggie doesn’t know what’s going on. First DeeDee and Jake get married with Balto as ring bearer, then they disappear to Connecticut. When he’s not with Al, which isn’t often, Balto mopes around like a lost soul.”
“When are DeeDee and Jake coming back?”
“I’m not sure. Jake’s helping a friend with his private investigation business, so he can spend time with his wife, who has terminal cancer, and their three children. It sounds like it might be a while, so we’re making arrangements to fly Balto, DeeDee’s dog, back to Connecticut. Jake’s dog, Yukon, was staying with another friend of his, but they put him on a flight to Hartford last week.”
Cassie glanced down at Balto who had started to pant and watched him trot off down the steps to the garden, wagging his tail. She sat back down at the table beside Briana. “That dog is something else,” Cassie remarked. “Do you think he understood what I just said?
“You know, I’d have preferred it if DeeDee could have catered your party, but it wasn’t to be. Chef Chastain is wonderful, and I think I have an idea that might work. Are there still empty units available in the Waterfront Palace that are close to the penthouse?”
Briana nodded.
Cassie clapped her hands. “Excellent. Will Mario allow the chef to use the other kitchens, do you think, as many as he needs?”
Briana threw her arms around her mother’s neck. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? Mom, you’re a genius.”
“You’re welcome,” Cassie said, glad that the problem had been easy to solve. She began to clear the breakfast dishes from the table, and Briana got up to help. “No, you sit down,” Cassie said, gently pushing her daughter’s hand away. “I’m making you bacon and pancakes, and fresh coffee. You look like you could do with a good breakfast.”
Briana raised her hand to her mouth to cover a yawn. “Thanks, I can. You guys are still coming to the party, right?”
Cassie deliberately avoided her daughter’s eye and turned to go inside. “Oh, you know Al is so busy with work these days. I’m not sure if we can make it after all, honey.”
As Cassie was walking past her, Briana caught her mother’s arm. “Is this because of Mario and his wife, Kitten? I don’t know the whole story, other than the fact that Al and Kitten were once involved. Could you try to get past that and be there to support me?”
Cassie felt Briana’s imploring gaze and knew her daughter was right. As well as having dated Kitten, there was also some history between Al and Mario. Briana wasn’t aware of the details, and Cassie didn’t think it was up to her to tell Briana.
“I’ll take care of it,” Cassie promised. “We’ll be there. I’ll have another word with Al.”
CHAPTER 3
“Señor! Dinner is ready.”
Angelo Conti wheezed and gasped his way from the living room of his condominium and down the hallway into the dining room, where a long polished mahogany table was set for one. He was leaning against the door frame, trying to catch his breath when his housekeeper Juana entered with his appetizer.
She set the platter of beer-battered fried shrimp on the table in front of his place setting, and came back to where Angelo was standing, giving him a concerned look.
Angelo smiled as Juana offered him her arm, and with her help he was able to shuffle over to the table where he sank into the chair at the head of the table.
Juana fussed around him, arranging a white linen napkin on his knee before pouring him a large glass of chilled white wine.
“Thank you, Juana,” Angelo said, heaping the shrimp onto his plate and smothering them with a gourmet sea salt. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
&
nbsp; Juana pursed her lips and folded her arms, watching Angelo as he began to eat the crispy lumps of battered shrimp with his fingers, shoving several pieces into his mouth at once. He licked his fingers between bites. The room was silent apart from his chomping, until Juana spoke up. “I made a nice chicken Caesar salad for the main course. No more steak. It’s bad for you. You know what the doctor said.”
Angelo sputtered and swallowed before replying. “Yes,” he said. “I’m going to die. And there’s nothing I can do about it. Which is why I intend to enjoy myself for as long as I have left. So I’ll have steak. I want it cooked the same as usual, or you can start looking for a new job. You know how I like it— black on the outside, blood rare on the inside.”
Juana started to protest, but Angelo interrupted her. His reddened face broke into a smile. “Give it up, Juana. There’s no point in trying to change my mind. It’s a bit late for healthy eating now. I know you don’t want me to croak, and I can’t say I’m looking forward to it. But look on the bright side of it. When I’m gone you’ll be taken care of, so you’ll never have to work again. Please, let an old fat fool die happy.” He raised his glass to her and took a long drink.
“Señor is stupid man. I bring your steak soon.”
Angelo watched Juana scurry out of the room, shaking her head and muttering under her breath in Spanish. She’d been with him for thirty years and was the woman he’d shared most of his adult life with, but not his bed. He had never married, and she’d come with him when he’d moved to various different locations.
Angelo valued loyalty more than any other quality, and Juana’s was unwavering. Years in the Chicago Mafia had taught him to trust few people, and as well as cooking perfect steak, she was someone he could always rely on. She had dressed his gunshot wounds when he couldn’t go to a hospital, and over the years had never once commented on his activities or the shady-looking associates he kept company with.
Murder at the Waterfront: A Northwest Cozy Mystery (Northwest Cozy Mystery Series Book 7) Page 2