Murder and Food Porn: A Northwest Cozy Mystery (Northwest Cozy Mystery Series Book 8)

by Dianne Harman

  Cassie sighed. “No, it’s my friend Toni Adams, silly, not Tony from the sailing club. I’m sure his name’s not Macaroni, by the way. Don’t you mean Marconi?”

  “Tony fulla’ baloney, if ya’ ask me,” Al said with a shrug. “Can’t stand the guy. Yer’ Toni, on the other hand, is a lot of fun to be around. She’s the photographer who makes food look sexy, right?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Who’s Hillary?”

  “Toni’s sister, she’s visiting from the Florida Keys. That’s where they’re both from. She’s a real estate agent, I think.”

  Al’s eyes lit up. “That’s interestin’. Ima gonna’ have to talk to her about keepin’ a lookout fer an investment property fer us. Did I ever tell ya’ how me n’ Vinny talked about movin’ to Florida one time, ‘cuz there’s no personal income tax there? Then we decided it was safer to just put our money in the Caymans instead.” He winked at Cassie.

  Cassie, well used to Al’s stories about his time in the Mob with his now deceased boss, Vinny, was happy to humor him. “Speaking of Vinny, I just remembered I have some lovely news for you. Vinny’s nephew, Clark, and Clark’s wife, Roz, have just welcomed their baby twins into the world. They’re calling the little boy Vinny, and the girl is Emilia, in honor of Roz’s mother.”

  When Al heard the news, he was overcome with emotion. He set his beer bottle down on the table and buried his head in his hands. Cassie reached over and stroked his back until he composed himself. He looked up at the sky with shiny, wet eyes. “Hope ya’ heard that up there, Boss.” Turning to Cassie, he whispered, “That’s the best news. Baby Vinny, huh? Ima gonna’ teach that little guy everythin’ I know. Vinny woulda’ wanted me to.”

  “That might not be such a good idea, sweetheart. Some things are best left in the past, if you know what I mean. The type of business you and Vinny engaged in is not something a young child needs to learn, or for that matter, to even know about. But if he learns just a fraction of your honor, loyalty, and capacity for love, he’ll do just fine in life.”

  Al looked up at the sky again. “Sorry, Boss, but Cassie’s right as usual. Ima gonna’ teach him the good stuff, not the bad. And little Em, too. Ya’ can count on it.” He turned back to his wife. “Did DeeDee call with the news? I’ve not spoken to Jake for a few days. It’s been quiet on the work front lately, not that Ima complainin’.”

  “Yes,” Cassie said. It was through her friend DeeDee Rogers, Roz’s sister, that she’d met Al. When DeeDee and her husband Jake left for Connecticut for a while to help a friend in need, Al had stepped in to look after Jake’s private investigation business while they were gone. “I’m not sure when they’ll be moving back to Bainbridge Island for good, but they’ll be here for a visit as soon as they can. The fact that Roz went a week over her due date has made DeeDee even more impatient to get here to see her niece and nephew.”

  “Me too. Ima gonna’ call Clark in the mornin’ to congratulate them.” He slapped a bug on his leg with a loud smack and flicked the black smudge off his hairy skin with his thumb and forefinger. “That’ll teach that nasty little critter to land on Al. Hope his pals were watchin’.”

  Cassie rose, lifting Al’s beer bottle and her empty wine glass. “Time to get ready. No more beer until you’re dressed.”

  Al got up to go inside, muttering under his breath. Cassie followed him into the kitchen, content with their version of domestic bliss.

  *****

  Al drummed his thigh with his fingers and Cassie gave him a warning stare.

  “What’s that look for? I never said nothin’,” Al said sheepishly. His stomach made a loud rumbling sound and Red, who was standing by the window, turned and growled in his direction.

  “Maybe not, but I know what you’re thinking. And we’re not starting dinner until they get here.” Cassie checked her watch again. “It’s not like Toni to be late and not call. I’ll try her again.”

  Just as Cassie lifted her phone, she heard the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway. She gave Al a triumphant smile. “See, that’ll be her now. I’ll get the door.”

  Cassie returned accompanied by a pretty, bouncy-haired blond with blue eyes. Al, who had met Toni a couple of times before, stepped forward. “You must by Hillary,” he said, extending his hand, “’cuz you sure as heck ain’t Toni. I’m Al. Pleased to meet ya’.”

  “You too, Al,” Hillary said, returning his handshake with a polite smile before turning to Cassie. “I’m a little worried about Toni. We agreed I’d meet her here since I borrowed her car, and she said she’d call Uber. I tried calling her to tell her I was on the way, but she didn’t answer her phone.”

  Cassie’s face clouded over. “I tried to reach her several times as well. I hope she’s not sick or fallen somewhere, and she can’t get to a telephone. Maybe we should go over to her place and check.”

  Hillary shook her head. “No, you guys stay put, and I’ll go. You’ve been inconvenienced enough already. I’m sure it’s some sort of mix-up. It’s only a couple of miles, so I’ll be there in no time.”

  Cassie looked doubtful. “If you’re sure…”

  Al rubbed his stomach, and Cassie glared at him. “Come right back, and we’ll have dinner when you both get here,” she said, walking Hillary to the front door.

  Hillary began to protest, and Cassie silenced her with a pat on the shoulder. “I insist. It’s nothing that won’t keep, and we’re looking forward to getting to know you over dinner. We’ll see you in a little while.”

  After Hillary had left, Al sank into the sofa. “Ima gonna’ eat my shoe if they don’t hurry up.” He stared at Red, who came across the room and began to sniff around Al’s feet. “No Red, Ima kiddin’,” he said, pushing him away.

  Cassie came in and handed Al a bowl of chips. “Here, chow down on these. There’s no need for drama. Hillary will easily be there and back with Toni in fifteen minutes, and then we can eat.” She sat down beside Al and grabbed a handful of chips.

  It was less than fifteen minutes later when Cassie’s phone lit up and Toni’s name flashed on the screen. Cassie smiled and accepted the call.

  “Hello, Toni, I…”

  Al watched as the expression on Cassie’s face as it turned from happiness to pain. He slowly set down the almost empty bowl of chips. The sound of hysterical screaming on the other end of the line could probably be heard by Dino Argyros all the way next door.

  He jumped up and told Red to heel. He didn’t need to wait for Cassie to end the call to know that something terrible had happened.

  “We’ll be right there, Hillary,” he heard Cassie say as he scrambled to find his car keys.

  “Well?” he asked when he rushed back into the room with his car keys in his hand. Seeing Cassie tremble, he reached out for her, but she was already racing past him into the kitchen. When he caught up with her, she was on her knees turning off the oven, tears coursing down her cheeks.

  He crouched down beside her and held her in his arms.

  “It’s Toni,” Cassie sobbed into his shoulder. “Hillary just found her body. She’s been murdered.”

  Al eased her to her feet. “C’mon, let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Ethan Doyle smiled across the table at his elderly dinner companion and flashed her his megawatt smile. His dental work had been one of many extravagant gifts from his wife before she had died, but the dimple in his chin was natural and added to his charm.

  “We should celebrate,” he said, motioning to the waiter. “Meeting you has brought a new and beautiful light into my life, Trixie. I’m so looking forward to getting to know you a whole lot better. But there’s no hurry, we have all the time in the world.”

  He smoothly placed his hand over hers as the waiter approached. After ordering the most expensive bottle of champagne on the menu, he leaned closer to Trixie Rothschild and laced his fingers through hers. The gaudy diamond jewelry adorning her scaly fingers hadn’t gone unnoticed by him, and he est
imated she had six-figures worth of rings on one hand alone. And the Cartier bracelet…dollar signs were flashing before his eyes.

  “How about if tomorrow we go shopping?” He could see Trixie was enjoying the attention he was lavishing on her, and she looked at him with an adoring gaze as he spoke. “I’d like to buy you a little gift, a trinket, to show you how much you’ve come to mean to me. I don’t say this lightly, but I’ve never met anyone like you. The day you swiped right on my dating profile was the day all of my dreams and wishes came true.”

  It was a line he used often, with every rich woman he dated. He gagged back the bile that rose in the back of his throat every time he said it, but it never failed to have the intended effect. Sure enough, Trixie gave him a gummy smile.

  “You don’t need to spend all your money on me, honey. A hard-working young man like you ought to be saving for your future. You’ve got yourself a whole lot of years ahead of you. I’ve lived a good life and want for nothing. Except, maybe…someone to make me feel desirable again, if you know what I mean.” She pushed out her wrinkled chest for effect.

  Ethan swallowed. Trixie was older than his usual conquests, a lot older, and that was saying something. Her breasts were out of proportion to her bony frame, and she was wearing a Versace number that screamed ‘look at me.’ He wondered what he was getting himself into, and felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest, a mix between compassion and guilt. Trying to shake the feeling, he rationalized the situation. Trixie, he reasoned, was lonely and looking for affection. He, on the other hand, was broke and in need of financial support. You’re not a fraudster, he thought to himself. We’re both consenting adults. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.

  In any case, it wasn’t as if he had any choice in the matter. He was broke, with no income coming in, and he needed money, fast. Ethan was used to the good life, and the condo he was renting at the exclusive Waterfront Palace development in downtown Seattle wasn’t cheap. He’d rented it furnished and styled by one of the city’s top interior designers, Briana Roberts. Everything in it was state-of-the-art, which inflated the price tag. Ethan had never worked a day in his life, and his preferred cover was that he was a start-up entrepreneur based at home with his laptop. Unless he was able to find a source of funds without delay, he was going to have to resort to a life of crime.

  His most recent meal ticket, a small inheritance when his wife died, hadn’t lasted long. He’d already spent most of her money while she was alive. At least Sheila was a nice person. He wasn’t sure he could say the same about Trixie, who was staring at him with narrowed eyes.

  “Is everything alright?” Trixie inquired. “It doesn’t look like you’re paying attention. I was just saying that maybe we could have a little fun later. See if we’re compatible, that kind of thing.”

  Trixie wasn’t wasting any time getting to the heart of the matter, he’d give her credit for that. Maybe he could move things along faster than he’d thought. She hadn’t given her age on her dating profile, and she’d scolded him to never ask a lady her age when he’d raised the subject on their first meeting, in a secluded corner of The Nest bar at the Thompson Hotel. Tonight, the candlelight in the restaurant was kind to her. He had to admit she was well-preserved, but she looked way too old to be even thinking about the things that were clearly on her mind.

  “I like your style, Trixie,” he said, toying with his champagne glass. “What say we skip dinner, just get the check, and hightail it out of here. Your place or mine?”

  He signaled to the waiter and made a show of patting his pockets for his wallet. “Oh,” he said, his face falling. “This is so embarrassing. My wallet must be in the car. I wonder…”

  “If I’d cover it?” Trixie batted her eyelashes. “Without seeing what else you have to offer me in the pleasure department? I don’t think so, not until I know if you’ve got what it takes to keep me happy.”

  Ethan’s shoulders shook as he laughed. “Oh, I’ve got what it takes alright, don’t you worry about that, darling.” He nodded at the waiter, who had set the check on the table, and stood up. “I just remembered, my wallet’s not in my car, it’s in my coat. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against Trixie’s before sauntering towards the cloakroom without a backwards glance.

  Once past the bar and out of sight of Trixie, his pace quickened. He checked out his coat, tipped the assistant with a handful of nickels and dimes, and hurried out of the restaurant. Paying the check for the meal was not an option. He knew exactly how much was in his bank account, and it wouldn’t have covered a bowl of olives at the bar, never mind the champagne.

  His car, a beat-up old Chevrolet, was nothing to write home about either. It was in the underground parking space that was included with his apartment rental, almost out of gas. He walked the short distance from the restaurant to the Waterfront Palace, looking over his shoulder as he went to make sure Trixie hadn’t sent someone from the restaurant after him. At least she didn’t know where he lived, not that he thought she would try to contact him again. Trixie was just as mercenary as he was, in her own way.

  In his condo, he poured himself a scotch and wondered how it had come to this. He’d never intended to become a kept man, it had just kind of happened. He’d met his first sugar momma when he was in college. The rich, bored housewife mother of one of his friends had made her intentions very clear when he’d visited their home while he was on summer vacation before his senior year. Once he got the taste for the perks that came with being a wealthy woman’s plaything, he saw no reason to change his ways. It was an easy rut to get into.

  The only woman he’d ever met who had made him question his lifestyle was Toni Adams. Bubbly, funny, beautiful Toni. He’d already been dating her mother Sheila for a while before he met her two daughters, Toni and Hillary. Hillary was arguably the prettier of the two, but it was Toni who stole his heart. He’d tried everything to get close to her, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with him. He’d even moved to Seattle after Sheila died to try and get Toni to give him a chance, but that hadn’t helped. She still didn’t want anything to do with him.

  He decided he had nothing to lose. He reached for his phone and pressed her number.

  She answered after one ring and yelled into the phone, “I thought I’d told you to stop calling me.”

  Ethan closed his eyes and smiled. The sound of her voice made him happy.

  “Tell me, Ethan Doyle, are you still scouring obituaries in the newspaper and gate-crashing funeral parlors so you can befriend little old ladies whose husbands have just died? Or pretending to be something you’re not on the Rich & Not Famous dating app? I don’t know how you can look at yourself in the mirror without throwing up.”

  Ethan sighed. “Toni, I didn’t call to argue with you. I’m begging you to just give me a chance. One hour, is all, to let me explain. I moved to Seattle to be close to you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  “It means you’re stalking me, that’s what it means. What kind of a man buries his wife then moves across the country to try and woo her daughter? A very sick, twisted excuse for a man, that’s who.”

  “I knew it. I think you feel something for me, but you won’t admit it to yourself.”

  “Oh, I feel something for you alright. Not hatred, because I refuse to be consumed by anything that would waste my time even thinking about you. That would be like me drinking poison and hoping you would die. No, my feeling for you is more like pity for your sad existence and worry for your next victim. But that person sure won’t be me.”

  Toni’s tone stung Ethan no less than if she had slapped him on the cheek. He refused to back down. Besides being his dream woman, and feisty as well, Toni had money. It was win-win, for him at least. He was sure if he could just get her into bed she’d change her mind. Many notches on his bedpost had made him an accomplished lover, and it was where he’d sealed his future with most of his conquests. Toni’s mother Sheila was an excepti
on, having insisted on waiting until they were married to consummate their union. By then, Ethan had no incentive to perform, and the marriage was mostly celibate, although Ethan played away from home when he got the urge.

  “Please, Toni, if you have any compassion at all, meet me for coffee. I promise no strings will be attached.”

  “Contact me again, and I’m calling the cops and filing a stalking complaint against you. Is that clear? You’re a liar and a thief, and that’s probably not the half of it. Stay away from me and stay away from my sister. You are not welcome in our lives, and I will do whatever it takes to discredit you at every opportunity, so remember that.” Toni’s voice was shaking.

  Ethan wasn’t sure if he liked this Toni, the one spitting venom at him on the other end of the line. “That sounds nasty, baby. What did I ever do to you to make you feel like that? I’m sure I can make it better, if you’ll let me try.”

  “You killed my mother, Ethan, with your empty promises.” Toni was screaming now. “You took every spark of life she had left and squeezed it out of her, then hung her out to dry. Maybe she wasn’t rich enough for you, was that it?”

  Something snapped inside Ethan. “We would have had plenty of money if she hadn’t split half of it between you and your brat of a sister,” he sneered. “Don’t talk to me about taking your mother’s money. You’ve got that on your own conscience as well. It’s not as if you needed it either, you’ve got plenty of your own.”

  “Right, and guess how I got it? It’s called work. It’s spelled WORK, in case you don’t know how to spell it. It’s a word you’re obviously not familiar with. And my conscience is clear, so don’t try and pull that one on me.”

  Ethan gave it one last shot. “I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Please, hear me out. Can I come and meet you?”

  “Absolutely not.” Toni sounded calmer. “Hillary’s in town this week, and we’re going away for a few days. We leave Thursday morning. Whatever designs you have on me, or my money, you can forget about them. It’s not happening. Goodbye, Ethan. I never want to see or hear from you again.”