Pasta, Pinot & Murder

by Jamie Lee Scott

  Chapter Fifteen

  I hadn’t slept well. The things running through my head made for nightmares. Alice had come to talk to me, to tell me it was all a mistake. She wasn’t really dead. Then Bruce came to visit, covered in blood with a butcher knife in his hand. The only person who seemed to not be trying to tell me something was Jacob. He just sat in the corner and smiled as the characters, some I knew and some I didn’t, tried to explain Alice’s murder to me.

  I was up and making coffee in the kitchen before the alarm went off. I really wanted caffeine, but forced myself to make decaf. I showered while the coffee brewed and tried to clear my mind. I poured the black coffee over half-and-half, then added cinnamon flavored Stevia and twisted the lid closed on my travel mug. I carried the cup by the handle and walked out to my studio. I was ten minutes early and Jacob was already there. I felt in my pocket for a hair tie so I could pull it up once it dried. Maybe I’d spent too long in the shower, because my fingers were still wrinkly.

  Jacob was sitting on the trunk of his car. When he saw me, he jumped down and walked with me to the studio.

  “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. I’m so embarrassed.” He had both hands shoved in the pockets of his chef’s pants.

  I waved him away with one hand, the one holding my coffee cup, as I put the key in the door with the other. “This isn’t your fault.” And then I looked back at him. “Unless you’re actually the one who killed Alice.”

  Jacob’s face lost all color. “Do you still think I killed her?”

  I wanted to tell him I didn’t think he killed her, but I also didn’t think he didn’t kill her. I just didn’t know. I chose not to respond.

  I put my keys in my pocket while Jacob went to the sink to wash his hands. This was ingrained in him after years of working in a kitchen.

  Since I’d awoken that morning, I’d been contemplating the best way to get ahold of Jacob’s phone. I’d also been saying silent prayers that it wasn’t password protected. Finally, as I walked to the studio, an idea came to me.

  “We’re going to try something new today. We’ll do all of the chopping and prep for this recipe in advance, because we’re going to try making a video.”

  Jacob dried his hands on a paper towel, then pushed the handle on the antibacterial dispenser and was rubbing it around on his hands. “Video?”

  “Yes, all of the food blogs are doing videos now, thanks to Buzzfeed’s Tasty. The one-minute recipe videos are all the rage. I haven’t had the guts to try it yet, but I thought it would be fun. We’ll make enough ingredients to make the recipe at least twice. Today, we’ll prep two times what we need and split it. That way, if we have to re-film, we can start from scratch.”

  Jacob’s smile told me this was something he thought would be fun. “Who’s going to be behind the camera?”

  Now I smiled. “You’ll be on camera. Sorry to say, they won’t see your lovely face, just your hands.”

  Jacob held up his hands and flipped them back and forth. “If I’d have known that, I would have gotten a manicure yesterday.”

  We both laughed. His hands looked fine. And besides, I had ulterior motives with this video idea. I didn’t think it would ever end up on the blog.

  “So, we’ll chop and prepare everything, and have it premeasured in bowls. I think most people who read my blog already know how to chop onions, and smash and mince garlic. Or at least we’re going to assume.”

  Eagerly, Jacob grabbed an apron from the wall and put it on, tying it around his waist.

  “Do you have your phone on you?” I asked.

  Jacob nodded and pulled it from his pocket.

  “Put it on silent and place it on the other side of the room. I don’t want you getting texts or calls in the middle of filming.”

  “Sure, I understand that. You want me just to turn it off?”

  I hadn’t thought it through, but said, “Just turning it on silent should be enough. If it vibrates, it’ll be across the room, so it shouldn’t interfere with anything. Besides, I think that’s a sound that I should be able to remove in post if I have to.”

  For the next hour, Jacob and I chopped, diced, and measured, and put everything in containers to be used for the video, making sure everything looked as pristine as I’d want it to be for a still photo. While we did this, we discussed the best way to approach the video.

  “How are you going to make it stand out from the rest?” Jacob asked.

  I wish I had an answer for him, but I didn’t. “I don’t know. That’s something we’ll have to come up with along the way.” And then I thought to myself, We’ll just show Jacob’s face. The women will see that and the video will go viral. He was so damn good-looking.

  “Can I ask you a question, Jacob?”

  He looked at me, but didn’t say anything.

  “What is a handsome guy like you doing with a married woman? You could have anyone you want.”

  He didn’t answer right away, as if he was thinking about his answer. But the coloring on his face had a shade of green to it. “I don’t know. Sometimes I just end up in situations.”

  This wasn’t an answer, but I figured it wasn’t my place to ask anyway. I let the subject drop. With the first set of ingredients, Jacob and I did a run through with the video. As we filmed, I realized that editing video was not going to be nearly as easy as editing a still picture. The learning curve on this one was going to be steep.

  I was still taking film school classes and editing courses online, and maybe I’d jumped the gun. But it was fun so far, and at worst, it was another wasted morning. But maybe not. It could be my best blog post to date.

  We had just finished filming the first round when I looked at my watch and realized it was past lunchtime.

  “I’m starving. How about you?” I asked.

  “I figured you could hear my stomach growling during that last take.”

  I laughed. “Why don’t you run up to the bed-and-breakfast and grab us lunch real quick? We can eat here.” I looked at my watch again and it was almost one o’clock. No wonder his stomach was growling.

  I hoped and prayed he’d forgotten his phone was on the table and not in his pocket and he’d take off for lunch without walking across the room to grab it.

  “Do you want anything specific?” he asked.

  “It’s a chilly fall day, why don’t we have soup? Unless you don’t want soup.”

  “Soup it is. What kind?”

  “Whatever Hattie has on the menu today. I’m not picky,” I said.

  “Sounds good. How about a loaf of French bread, too?”

  Knowing that Hattie’s bed-and-breakfast made some of the best French bread around, I eagerly agreed.

  Jacob was out the door without even glancing toward his cell phone.

  Just to be safe, I locked the door behind him.

  As I walked over to his telephone I said a prayer to myself. Please, no password, please.

  I picked up his phone, pressed the side button and swiped across the screen. Thank goodness, no password screen. I breathed a sigh of relief and got to work, thinking how trusting Jacob was. Would a guy who had something to hide leave his phone unprotected? Well, I had nothing to hide and I kept mine protected, so what did this say about me?

  I went to the call log first and checked for Bridget’s phone number. Unless Bridget was calling me from a phone she didn’t normally use to connect with him, she and Jacob definitely didn’t call one another often. I saw an outgoing call from his phone number to her the previous day. I pulled my phone out to check the timestamp on the incoming call. Jacob had called Bridget’s number nine minutes before she called me.

  I scrolled back as far as five days and didn’t see another phone call to or from the number Bridget had used. I decided to check the text messages. There were several text messages that had timestamps after Bridget had called me.

  The first from Jacob: Did you call her?

  Bridget: Yes we talked.

 
Jacob: Did you tell her we were together?

  Bridget: Yes. I think she believed me.

  The last text was Jacob thanking Bridget for making the phone call. I scrolled back through the phone, and the last time I saw anything from Bridget’s phone number was something asking for a ride to work almost a month earlier.

  That lying little turd. Now I wanted to get my hands on Bridget’s phone and see what she had. Maybe this was a new phone number for her. But the text message saying that she thought I believed it sealed the deal for me. There was no way Jacob was with Bridget that morning.

  When Jacob came back from lunch, I feigned being jolly. I didn’t want him to know what I knew. I sure didn’t want my life in danger. The smart thing was just to play dumb. It was just the two of us in my studio, and the police would be at least fifteen minutes out if I still had any life left to call. I decided to pretend all was well and finish up the video shoot, then I’d go talk to John. I even contemplated ways to cut the day short, but I was so far behind on my work that I ended up keeping Jacob until just before four.

  I called the sheriff’s department immediately after I saw Jacob get in his car. John was out of the office, but they expected him back soon. I decided not to wait and call back. Instead, I waited about ten minutes, to make sure Jacob wasn’t coming back, then got in my car and headed into town. I hoped and prayed John was in his office by the time I got there.

  When I arrived at the sheriff’s department, I stopped at the bulletproof glass and announced myself. I heard a buzz on the other side of the door and it opened. Sheriff Waters, I mean John, met me on the other side.

  “What brings you here?” John asked.

  “I need to talk to you about some things. About Alice’s murder.”

  John turned around and said, “Follow me.”

  I followed him into his office.

  John sat at his desk and put his hand out to indicate that I should sit, too. I sat down and leaned forward with my elbows on his desk.

  “We’re working hard on Alice’s murder. We have a few leads, but I can’t share anything with you,” he said.

  “But I can share some things with you.” I put my hands flat on his desk. “Did you know that she fired her sous chef, Jacob Jackson? That she accused him of stealing from her and promised to ruin his career? Telling him he’d never work in the Sonoma Valley again?”

  John nodded.

  This surprised me. “Who told you?”

  “I talked to Paula. She wanted to be sure that you understood you had a murderer working for you,” he said, matter-of-factly.

  I smirked. “I don’t know about that. I think I’m a better judge of character than she thinks.”

  “Whatever you say,” he replied. He wasn’t giving anything away.

  “Well, your evidence must not be very solid, because you haven’t arrested him yet. Does this mean there are other suspects?”

  “You’ve been watching too many cop shows on TV.”

  I ignored his comment. “And did you know that Alice and Bruce had filed for divorce?”

  I was so excited to be offering him this news.

  “Yes, Bruce told me this morning. He came in and we had a long chat.” He sounded bored.

  Boy, was he letting the air out of my balloon.

  “Did you know that Jacob’s alibi is a fake?”

  He leaned forward and said, “I didn’t know Jacob had an alibi. But I’m sure he does.”

  “He told me that he had fallen asleep in his car while listening to music. That he had been early for work, but then ended up being late because he fell asleep.”

  John leaned back in his chair. “That’s what he told me, too, but that’s not really an alibi.”

  I slapped my hand on the desk; I was so excited. John jumped. “He changed his story. He told me he was with Bridget Toomey from the Poached Pear. He claimed that they had been dating, and he had kept it a secret because Bridget was married.”

  John’s eyes went wide. He moved a yellow legal pad to the middle of his desk and picked up a pen. He wrote something quickly. “I hadn’t heard this alibi yet. I’ll have to look into it.”

  “But there’s more,” I added. “I looked at Jacob’s phone. There’s only one phone call and a handful of text messages between Jacob and Bridget.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Bridget called me. Jacob wasn’t the one who told me that he was with her; she did. I had Bridget’s phone number from the phone call, so I checked it against Jacob’s phone. For two people who are supposedly dating, they don’t talk or text much.”

  John rocked forward in his chair, leaning in close. “And how did you get your hands on Jacob’s phone?” He didn’t seem happy.

  “He left it on the table in my studio, so I looked through it. There were a few texts that indicated he had asked Bridget to call me, and then Bridget said she thought I believed the story.”

  John shook his head. “You realize his call log could’ve been deleted. And you have no idea if the text messages were in context with Bridget calling you. Unless your name was mentioned.”

  I was getting flustered, and I could feel my ears turning red. The heat had flushed all the way up my neck to my face. I couldn’t believe he was blowing me off. “The only phone call to Bridget’s phone was nine minutes before she called me. Then afterward, there were a few text messages and she said that she thought I believed it. And she’s supposedly married.”

  “All the more reason to delete the call log. She wouldn’t want her husband finding out.”

  “But it was Jacob’s phone. Not like he’d ever see Jacob’s phone,” I protested. I hated that he was questioning everything I told him as if I was a crazy woman.

  “Was your name specifically mentioned?”

  I had to think for a minute. “No,” I admitted.

  “Like I said, the call log could’ve been deleted. And you don’t know the exchange had anything to do with you. But I’ll look into it.”

  I got up to leave John’s office, then turned around and said, “Oh, and by the way, I think there was something holding open the front gate at Alice’s house yesterday. I don’t know for sure, but it had to be a boulder or something. This morning, it was gone.”

  John stood and walked me out of the office. “Yes, we have it in our possession. I will tell you this, it wasn’t a boulder. It was a piece of rope. The gate had been tied to a stake in the grass.”

  “What’s the point of a security gate if you’re not going to keep it closed?” I asked.

  “We’re looking into it. But the stake looked like it was placed for the purpose of keeping the gate open, and it’s been there many moons,” John said.

  “The gate could’ve been broken. Did you ask Bruce about it?”

  As John walked me out of the building, he said he’d talk to Bruce about it later.

  I wanted to ask him if he’d looked into Bruce having a life insurance policy on Alice, but he seemed testy already. Maybe I’d ask Hattie. She’d know. And if not, maybe she’d ask John while they were recovering from their sexual antics. I cringed at the thought of Hattie in bed with anyone, much less the local sheriff.

  I shivered as I got into my car.

  Chapter Sixteen

  On the way home from John’s office, I couldn’t help but swing by the Parker building. I just wanted to see who was there, and to find out if Bruce had taken the day off or if he was at the house. I thought maybe if he was at the office, I’d sneak back to the house one more time.

  Peter’s admonishment to be careful chimed in my ears. Maybe going to the house wasn’t such a good idea. Besides, I hadn’t seen much of the house in recent years and it probably wouldn’t tell me anything the cops didn’t already know.

  As I drove slowly up to the intersection, stopping at the red light, I saw a familiar face.

  A beautiful curvy blonde with a pixie haircut laughed as she walked out of the door of Bruce’s building. She looked familiar, and it took me less t
han a second to register that this was Bridget.

  I knew, other than charity work, that Bruce’s business and Alice’s businesses didn’t cross. They were completely separate entities. Separate operations even. So what was Bridget doing at Bruce’s office?

  Didn’t she say she was up for promotion? And maybe now that Alice was gone, Bruce was taking over some of the management of Alice’s properties. This seemed plausible.

  Bridget had hopped in her convertible Mercedes-Benz and motored down the road before my light turned green and I was able to turn into the Parker parking lot. She must be a pretty good server to be driving a Mercedes. Then again, I didn’t look closely enough to see if it was newer. Older Mercedes weren’t that spendy, other than the maintenance bill. Damn, I’d wanted to confront her. I considered following her, but common sense took over and I didn’t.

  As I walked into the office, Paula looked up at me warily.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  I cocked my head and frowned at her. “Wrong?”

  “I haven’t seen you this many times in ten years,” she said with a genuine laugh. “And now this is the third time in as many days. I just assumed something was wrong.” Paula had her charm meter cranked up to eleven. Funny how her attitude changed when Bruce was in the office.

  I thought about the relationship between Paula and Bruce. She’d been his personal assistant for many years, and she knew things about the Parker family most people probably couldn’t even imagine. Not that she was supposed to know these things, but that’s what happens when you’re a personal assistant: you know things that other people don’t. Part of the hefty salary was to pay the assistant to keep their mouth shut. I thought about offering to take her out for a glass of wine, but that would be insincere, and I couldn’t pay her enough to betray her beloved Bruce.

  “That girl that just left here, she looks familiar, but I can’t place her.” I tried playing dumb to see what Paula would tell me.

  “Yes, that’s Bridget Toomey. She works for Alice. I mean, worked for Alice.” Paula suddenly made herself busy.