by B R Snow
“Joint property rights,” Josie said, nodding.
“Yeah,” Suzy said. “Or the business. You said Kingsley had some sort of manufacturing company.”
“He did,” Josie said, then scowled.
“What?” Chef Claire said.
“What’s the matter?” Suzy said.
“Josie’s making a face,” Chef Claire said. “I’m guessing she has a thought.”
“I do. I’m just wondering if it’s possible the Feds are trying to pin the murders on Georgio,” Josie said.
“Killing two people and then framing him for the murders?” Chef Claire said. “That’s despicable.”
“It is,” Josie said. “But it’s clear they want this guy really bad. And since they haven’t been able to come up with any evidence, maybe they decided to get nasty.”
“Agent Tompkins wouldn’t do it,” Chef Claire said, shaking her head.
“Even if it ended up saving thousands of lives?” Josie said. “Who knows what sort of crap Georgio is involved with.”
“No, he wouldn’t do it,” Chef Claire said.
“I can make it work,” Josie said. “Lance, the FBI surfer dude, goes into town with Georgio, then changes his story at some point. Ends up denying he spent all day with him.”
“No,” Chef Claire snapped. “If that’s the way it ends up playing out, somebody went rogue. Agent Tompkins would never do something like that.”
“Okay, okay,” Josie said, holding up her hands. “I’ll back off.”
“Good,” Chef Claire said. “New subject, please.”
“Ooh, I touched a nerve,” Josie said, laughing. “How are the dogs?”
“They’re great,” Suzy said. “But they miss you.”
“The feeling is mutual. How are you feeling?”
“Full at the moment,” Suzy said, laughing. “My mom and I just wolfed down a pizza.”
“Are you taking your vitamins and getting enough rest?” Chef Claire said.
“Absolutely,” Suzy said. “And the staff at the Inn are already babying me.”
“Good,” Josie said. “Let them.”
“Okay, I’ll let you guys go,” Suzy said. “Be careful.”
“Will do,” Josie said. “And let us know if you have any brilliant ideas.”
“You guys don’t need my help,” Suzy said. “You can figure it out. Later.”
She ended the call and Josie put her phone away.
“Do you think she’s right?” Josie said.
“About us being able to figure this out?”
“Yeah.”
“I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
“Or we could just let it go,” Josie said.
Chef Claire gave it some thought.
“I suppose we could just play it by ear and see what happens next?”
“Good plan,” Josie said, getting to her feet. “Sleep well.”
“You too.”
“What are we cooking tomorrow?”
“I think it’s protein day. Which is good for someone like you who needs to start cutting down on the carbs.”
“Funny.”
“Yeah, I liked it, too.”
Chapter 20
Chef Claire stared out at the view as she sipped her coffee. Josie polished off the last of her breakfast pastry and stretched out on the lounge chair.
“I thought you were cutting back on the carbs,” Chef Claire said.
“I am. But it’s not like I’m going to go cold turkey. Good morning, Marco.”
“Good morning,” he said, sitting down across from them. “Did you get some sleep?”
“I did,” Chef Claire said, then frowned at him. “Are you okay?”
“Actually,” Marco said, running his hands through his hair. “I’m a little rattled.”
“I’d be shocked if you weren’t,” Chef Claire said, setting her cup down. “How’s Rosa holding up?”
“Worse than me,” he said, exhaling loudly as he stared out at the view. “It’s such a beautiful day.”
“You sound almost wistful, Marco,” Chef Claire said.
“Wistful. I suppose that’s close enough,” he said, then forced a small laugh. “But I’m sure things will turn around soon. At least, I sure hope they do.”
“You’re worried about losing the place?” Chef Claire said.
“Only about a dozen times a day.”
“I thought you said you were doing a bit better financially,” Chef Claire said.
“I lied.”
“Why would you do that, Marco?” Chef Claire said.
“Because it’s embarrassing,” he said, shrugging. “And it’s even more embarrassing when I compare how we’re doing with your success.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Chef Claire said.
“You know, the student has become the master,” Marco said. “But I’m not surprised. You always were special, Chef Claire.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Chef Claire said. “How big a hole are you guys in?”
“Oh, it’s deep and wide,” he said. “And growing.”
“Are you sure you can’t you go to the banks?” Josie said.
“It’s not an option.”
“You mentioned investors the other day,” Chef Claire said. “Would they be willing to put more money in?”
“We only have the one,” Marco said. “And if we were willing to pony up enough equity in the place, he’d probably consider putting in some more. But Rosa’s forbidden it.”
“Rosa’s really worried about where Georgio’s money comes from, isn’t she?”
“To say the least. She’s convinced the authorities are eventually going to catch up with him. And when they do, Rosa says they’ll try to recover as much of his money as they can. By whatever means necessary.”
“Asset forfeiture,” Josie said.
“Exactly,” Marco said. “We could easily lose everything.”
“And you need three million?” Chef Claire said.
“That’s just to buy him out,” Marco said. “We also need at least another million for the winery. And I doubt if it’s the last infusion of cash it’s going to need.”
“What’s the problem with the winery?” Josie said. “You make excellent wine.”
“Thanks,” Marco said, flashing her a sad smile. “We got into the wine game way too late. In the old days, it seemed like all the good wine came from Italy or France. Then California and Australia started turning out some great stuff. Now, there are hundreds of places producing wine. And a lot of it is excellent.”
“Your wine is comparable,” Chef Claire said.
“Yes, it is,” Marco said. “But we can’t make any money on it. There’s just too much good local wine in several countries. So, we’re stuck.”
“How so?” Josie said.
“There’s no way we can develop enough market share here, so we’re forced to export. Export or die, right? And we can’t compete. We either lower the price of our exported wine, or it just sits on the shelf. And when we get the price down to where it does sell, we lose money.”
“Can’t you just sell the winery and keep the rest of the property?” Chef Claire said.
“It’s certainly an option,” Marco said. “But it’s hard to give up on the dream.”
“Better than losing everything,” Chef Claire said.
“I’m afraid that’s another big problem,” Marco said. “The cooking school doesn’t generate enough income for us to keep the villa going.”
“I was wondering about that,” Chef Claire said. “The numbers don’t seem to work.”
“They don’t,” Marco said. “The school is a lot of fun, and it’s a great marketing tool. At least, we thought it would be. But we don’t make a lot on it.”
“Geez, Marco,” Chef Claire said. “I had no idea you guys were in such a tough spot.”
“Yeah, we don’t share it with most people,” Marco said. “But I would like to speak with you about something.”<
br />
Marco was about to continue but looked at Josie and paused.
“Should I go?” Josie said, glancing back and forth at them.
“Absolutely not,” Chef Claire said. “Whatever you need to talk about, Marco, you can certainly say it in front of Josie.”
“Of course,” he said, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” He took a few deep breaths and ran his hands through his hair. “Rosa and I have been looking for a way to generate more income at the villa.”
“Okay,” Chef Claire said.
“And we think the best way to do that is to convert the lower floor of the villa into a restaurant.”
Chef Claire thought about the idea then slowly nodded.
“That would work,” she said. “You could probably handle a hundred people, maybe more. And easily convert the registration area into a bar.”
“We think we can get capacity to one-twenty-five inside,” he said. “And we could handle another fifty or so on the veranda. It would be big enough.”
“It would,” Chef Claire said.
“And we’d like you to join us,” Marco said.
“You want me to invest in a restaurant?”
“And be our visiting chef from time to time,” he said. “Whatever you can fit into your schedule.”
“But primarily you need my money, right?”
“Yes, we do,” Marco said softly, then brightened. “But you can see how great it could be.”
“I can,” Chef Claire said. “It could be very special.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” Marco said. “Of course, I don’t expect you to answer right away. Take some time to think about it.”
“I don’t need any time, Marco.”
“You don’t?”
“No,” Chef Claire said. “I’m very flattered, Marco. But the answer is no.”
“Just like that?”
“Yeah, just like that,” Chef Claire said.
“Can I ask you why?”
“Two reasons, primarily. The first is I’m doing everything I can these days to cut back on work. The second is there’s no way I’m getting anywhere near what is happening around here. I’m sorry, Marco. But it’s not going to happen.”
“Cutting straight to the chase, huh?” Marco said. “You’ve always been a no-nonsense woman.”
“You taught me well, Marco,” Chef Claire said softly.
“I’m beginning to think I should have taken more of my own advice.”
“I’m sure there are other investors out there,” Chef Claire said. “People love owning a piece of a restaurant.”
“I thought I had one all lined up,” he said, again staring off into the distance.
Josie and Chef Claire looked at each other then they focused on Marco when the penny dropped.
“Emerson?” Chef Claire whispered. “Emerson was going to invest?”
“He was,” Marco said, unable to make eye contact.
“Bronwyn mentioned he was thinking about it,” Josie said, frowning. “I completely forgot.”
“Why would you do that, Marco?” Chef Claire said. “It’s obvious he did business with Georgio. Why would his money be any safer to take?”
“He has a corporate structure behind him capable of hiding a lot of things,” Marco said.
“Geez, Marco,” Chef Claire said, shaking her head. “Rule number one. When you find yourself in a hole, stop digging.”
“You sound like Rosa.”
“She didn’t like it?” Chef Claire said.
“Rosa hated the idea, but we were out of options. Not that it matters now.” He got up and forced a smile. “Okay, I need to get ready for class. Thanks for listening, Chef Claire.”
“I’m sorry, Marco. If things were different, I might have considered investing. But it’s too weird around here right now.”
“I understand,” he said, then headed inside.
They waited until he disappeared from sight then Chef Claire shrugged at Josie.
“What a mess,” Josie said.
“Yeah.”
“Was it harder to say no to him than it looked?”
“Not really,” Chef Claire said. “I feel bad for them, but there’s no way I was going to put myself in the middle of whatever this is. Would you have invested?”
“Not a chance,” Josie said, shaking her head. “But I have to say his comment about Rosa has got me thinking.”
“Great minds think alike,” Chef Claire whispered.
“Do you think it’s possible she was the one who killed Emerson?”
“Twenty minutes ago, I would have said there wasn’t a chance in hell,” Chef Claire said. “But if she thought bringing him in as an investor could be the death knell…people do strange things when they’re under enormous pressure.”
“And taking both Bronwyn and Emerson out removed the possibility of Marco taking their money,” Josie said.
“It did. But I can’t wrap my head around the idea of Rosa being capable of murder.”
“It’s a stretch, but I’m afraid I can make it work,” Josie said.
“I can’t. Yet,” Chef Claire said, then fell silent before finally continuing. “We need more information.”
“You want to talk with Commissario Bruno?” Josie said, frowning.
“Absolutely not. It could put us right in the middle of everything. And all we have right now are a bunch of questions and suspicions. We can’t prove anything.”
“So, what do you want to do?” Josie said.
“I think we should go out for a drink tonight after dinner.”
“And?” Josie said, raising an eyebrow.
“And I think we should invite the surfer dude from the FBI to join us,” Chef Claire said.
“I like it,” Josie said, getting to her feet. “Just try not to make any waves, okay?”
“Really? That’s the best you got?”
“It’s still early. You know I usually don’t hit my stride until around lunch.”
Chapter 21
Lance Jones might have been an undercover agent for the FBI, but one thing he definitely wasn’t lying about was his love of surfing. Josie had floated a casual question about how he first got started in the sport, and a twenty-minute soliloquy ensued that left both women with blank stares and bobblehead nods. When he finally finished describing the thirty-foot wave he fell off on the north shore of Oahu and his subsequent injuries, he tossed back the rest of his wine and got to his feet.
“The next round is on me,” he said, heading for the bar.
“That was brutal,” Josie said when he was out of earshot.
“You had to ask,” Chef Claire said, shaking her head.
“I was simply trying to get the conversation started.”
“New topic,” Chef Claire said, finishing her wine. “No more surfing talk.”
“You’re not interested in hearing more about how he was totally frothing when he got slotted on that thirty-footer?”
“Uh, no.”
Lance returned to the table carrying three glasses. He placed them on the table then sat back down and glanced back and forth at them.
“What are we talking about?” he said.
“Uh, cooking,” Chef Claire said.
“Oh,” he said, obviously disappointed.
“You still want to be a chef?” Josie said.
“I think it’s pretty clear by now I have a better chance of becoming a brain surgeon,” Lance said, then laughed. “You’ve tasted my food. It sucks.”
“Well…yeah, it kinda does,” Josie said with a shrug.
“But you can improve,” Chef Claire said. “All it takes is dedication and practice.”
“Nah, it’s not for me,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “Besides, I’m working on something else at the moment.”
“Really?” Josie said. “Do tell.”
“I can’t talk about it,” Lance said. “But my folks are gonna love it.”
“What do they do?” Chef Claire said.
�
�They dabble in a lot of things,” he said, shrugging. “Cars. Commercial real estate. Investments and portfolio management. Totally boring.”
“So, you’re bringing them a new deal?”
“Something like that,” Lance said.
“How was your day in town?” Josie said.
“It was good,” he said, nodding. “Georgio is an interesting guy. Did you know he has over a hundred patents on things he’s invented?”
“I did not,” Josie said, glancing at Chef Claire.
“I don’t know how he does it,” he said. “I have a hard enough time coming up with original thoughts much less do anything with them when I do.” He glanced at the front door when it opened. “Hey, there’s Betty.”
He waved and eventually caught her eye. She approached with a big smile.
“Hey, guys,” she said. “Mind if I join you?”
“Of course not,” Josie said. “Have a seat.”
“What would you like to drink?” Lance said, getting to his feet.
“A glass of whatever you guys are drinking would be great. Thanks, Lance,” she said, removing her coat and sitting down. “I had to get out of there. Between Marco and Rosa and the staff, the place is like a funeral parlor.”
“If people keep dying, it just might become one,” Josie said.
“Don’t start,” Chef Claire said.
“No, think about it,” Josie said. “Death is a growth industry. It might be the solution to their problems.”
“Problems?” Betty said.
“We shouldn’t be talking about it,” Chef Claire said.
“Oh, you mean their financial problems,” Betty said.
“You know about them?” Chef Claire said.
“Georgio mentioned something about it,” Betty said. “It caught me by surprise when he brought it up. He does love to talk.”
“But usually only about himself,” Josie said.
“Indeed,” Betty said. “He seems to be shaken up about what happened to Emerson. Almost more than he was about Bronwyn.” Then she frowned. “How did you know about their financial problems?”
Chef Claire glanced at Josie then shrugged and focused on Betty.
“Marco told us,” she said. “And he asked me to invest in a new restaurant he and Rosa are thinking about opening.”