Toasting Up Trouble (A Dinner Club Mystery) (11 page)

“Why?”

“It is a murder case. They don’t often let go of their prime suspect.”

“But he’s a businessman with ties in the community.”

“Have you ever thought of becoming a lawyer? No? Probably a good thing. We’ll just have to wait and see, but the lawyer is all over it, so don’t you worry. Now, I think Evan might be in his office this afternoon.” She looked pointedly at the door.

“Thanks, Tansy. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

J.J. wanted to head back to Rocco G’s to see if there was
anything she could do, but she had promised Tansy. She squared her shoulders and took the stairs down to Evan’s domain. A smile spread across her face when she saw the Closed sign on his office door.

She ran back upstairs, dropped the color chips on her desk, and grabbed her purse. “I’m just heading over to Rocco G’s to check on things. I’ll be back real quick,” she told Skye.

“Don’t worry. I’ll hold down the fort.”

J.J. walked as fast as her heels would allow but found another Closed sign when she reached Rocco G’s. The lights were all off and nobody seemed to be moving around. Of course not. Both Zoe and Hank had done their jobs and then locked up when their shifts were over. A flicker of light caught her attention, and she cupped her right hand against the window and tried to peer in. There was somebody in there, she was certain. A burglar? The bistro would be a prime target for anyone who knew Rocco was in jail and that the part-timers had left by now. What to do? Call the police?

She pulled her smartphone out of her pocket and was about to punch in 911 when the person pushed open the door to the kitchen. There was enough light with the door open that she could recognize Hank Ransom. J.J. started pounding on the door. Ransom looked over at her and, without a moment’s hesitation, backed into the kitchen and flicked off the light. J.J. tried knocking twice more but that didn’t get her anywhere.

Had it even been Ransom? If so, why wouldn’t he open the door? Probably because he didn’t want to answer any more questions. That hadn’t been her initial reason for going to Rocco G’s, though. But what had she been thinking, that she could offer a helping hand? She wasn’t in the restaurant business. It was really none of her concern. Except, in a way, it was. Rocco had been really nice to her, giving her all that advice about cooking Italian. She felt she owed him for that.
And they both had issues with the same guy, who was now deceased. There had to be something she could do.

Okay, Hank Ransom. You’re definitely on my to-visit list.
But at the moment, the best she could do was go back to the office, come up with a dazzling idea for Olivia Barker, and check one more thing off her list.

J.J. knew the black car parked in front of her office building. A 2014 Acura driven by Ty Devine, if she was correct. She approached with caution, wondering what he was doing there, but at the same time wanting to avoid him.

On second thought, she needed to talk to him and at least let him know about Rocco. That is, if he didn’t already know. But knowing Devine, he was well aware of everything happening with the case.

She leaned over and tapped on the passenger window and felt a bit pleased when he looked startled. He got out of the car and leaned on the roof to talk to her.

“Guess you caught me unawares.” He grinned.

“Looks like it. Am I right in assuming you were waiting for me?”

“No. Actually, I didn’t know you weren’t here. I was just listening to the end of the newscast on the radio, and then I
planned to pay you a visit. Maybe you’d like to hop in the car and we could go get a coffee and talk.”

“Or maybe we could walk the block over to Cups ’n’ Roses and get a coffee and talk.” She raised her eyebrows in challenge.

“Okay by me.” He pocketed his key fob and joined her on the sidewalk. “Lead the way.”

“You don’t know Cups ’n’ Roses?” she asked in mock shock.

“Can I plead to not knowing this entire area at all? I recently moved to Burlington and haven’t really had the need nor the opportunity to visit the outskirts.”

“Outskirts? We don’t take kindly to that kind of talk. Half Moon Bay is a very important part of the greater Burlington area. Besides, how can you not know about a scene like this?” She gestured in front of them. Gabor Avenue appeared to end right in the bay.

“It looks great, but it also looks like many other parts of the city that border Lake Champlain. How long have you lived here?”

“Almost two years.”

He stopped and looked at her in surprise. “You were sounding like a born and raised Burlingtonian there.”

“And I’m surprised you didn’t know. Haven’t you been digging around in my private life while trying to find out if I had a fling with Marcotti?” She was surprised and pleased that maybe her privacy hadn’t been invaded.

“I look at the details relevant to a case. Your childhood would have no bearing on this matter, unless of course there was an even more sinister, deeper motive at play.”

She couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not, which irritated her. “There isn’t.” She stopped and pulled open the door to Cups ’n’ Roses. “This is Half Moon Bay’s finest coffee shop, owned and run by my good friend Beth Brickner.”

Devine followed her to the counter and paid for two lattes.

“Thanks,” she said as she sat down at one of the tables for two.

“Don’t mention it.” He took a long sip of his latte. “This is good.”

“I told you. So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Beth appeared at their table with two biscotti on a small plate. “This is on the house.”

“Wow, thanks so much, Beth. This is Ty Devine.”

“The PI? Really!”

Devine looked pleased. “Absolutely. And besides being the bearer of really delicious-looking treats, I gather you’re also the owner?”

“Beth Brickner.” She stuck out her hand. “I throw all modesty to the wind and avow that I am the owner of this place, voted number one in the
Half Moon Bay Village News
for one straight month in a row. And, I’m also a member of Culinary Capers.”

“I should know that name?”

“Well, duh. You’re sitting here with one of our newest members. Superb Italian cook J.J. Tanner. She didn’t tell you? Or rather, you didn’t discover that in your investigating?”

J.J. smiled. Score another one.

“Actually, no to both. What is it?”

“The best darn dinner club around.” Beth pulled over a chair from the next table and sat. She broke off half of one of the biscotti and chewed on it. “There are five of us who take turns hosting a dinner each month. The significant part is that each person chooses a cookbook, and from it, an entrée. The rest of us then pick something to go with it from the same book.” She leaned over and patted J.J.’s hand. “J.J. did a mean turkey pizzaiola Sunday.” She sat back and cocked an eyebrow. “Do you cook?”

Devine laughed. “I know my way around a kitchen. Well,
I am impressed.” He looked at J.J. “And is that how you know Rocco Gates?”

J.J. nodded. “He’s my Italian-cooking guru.”

“Then I’m sorry. I have some bad news for you.”

Beth glanced at J.J. and then over at the line forming at the counter and stood and excused herself, pushing her chair back in its place.

“What? It can’t be much worse than what’s already happened,” J.J. said, bracing herself.

“He’s being detained for further questioning.”

“I knew that.”

“Of course you did. Why am I not surprised? And I’ll bet you’re still certain he’s not a murderer.” Devine stirred his latte but didn’t take a drink.

“Of course he’s not. They had history, but that doesn’t always lead to murder. Is that really why you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah. I suspected you had a connection there, beyond your pumping him for information last time we met. I thought you should know.”

J.J. smiled. “That was thoughtful. Thanks. Now, if you can just come up with the name of the real murderer, you’ll be my hero.”

Devine laughed. “Such an easy task. On the upside, this places you closer to the bottom of the suspect list.”

“So I’ve been told. Do you think the police will still keep investigating, or will it be a slam dunk now with a prime suspect in hand?”

“Hard to say. I haven’t worked with Detective Hastings before, but he seems to be thorough. I’d like to think he’ll keep looking.”

“Which is why I’m still on the list.” She looked down at the plate. Empty.
Oh, well. You snooze, you lose.

“Yeah. Tell me what you know about this feud between Gates and Marcotti.”

“Well, Rocco didn’t talk much about it. In fact, all he admitted was that the feud was over a woman, when they still lived in Italy. He did say they left at about the same time to come to the US, but I’m not sure why they settled in the same area.”

“Hm. Seems rather odd if they were enemies. I’ll look into that. Maybe Mrs. Marcotti will know. Is Gates married?”

“I think he’s a widower. We didn’t talk about family, just mainly about olive oils and anchovy substitutes. So is the wife still looking for the other lover?”

Devine grimaced. “Nice try.”

J.J. leaned forward on her elbows. “And you really don’t think that Candy Fleetwood is the murderer?”

“She’d be better off to murder the wife, don’t you think?”

“Well, what if there is someone else and she didn’t like being cheated on? How weird would that be? He’s still with his wife but cheating on his mistress, as well as on his wife. Huh. What a crud. What?”

Devine looked like he was trying to suppress laughter. “You just can’t help it, can you?”

“Huh?”

“Digging around in it.”

“You’re the one who wanted to tell me about Rocco.” She tried to look affronted but knew she hadn’t pulled it off.

Devine looked at her a moment before answering. “But not to get you involved any deeper.”

“Not true. You were hoping I’d know something and tell you.” She stood. “Not today, sorry. But thanks for the latte.”

Devine beat her to the door and held it open for her. She mumbled another thank-you and walked beside him in silence until they’d reached his car.

“He didn’t do it, Devine. I truly believe that.”

Devine nodded. “See you.”

J.J. sat at her desk staring at, but not seeing, the photo of a snow covered bridge on the wall opposite. She felt like pounding her head on the desk. Maybe that would unleash the brilliant idea that was just floating around inside her brain, waiting to be harnessed.

“That photo’s not going to tell you a thing,” Skye finally said. “You’ve got a good start on the whiteboard. Would you like me to brainstorm with you? It would be less painful than watching you.”

“Why are you watching me? I thought you had your own proposal to finish.” She looked at Skye. “Thanks for the offer but I’m almost there. I can feel it. The trick is, if this competitor is thinking along the same lines I am, I have to totally switch tracks to best him or her on this. I can’t suggest anything predictable.”

“Hmm. Good thinking. Good luck.” Skye answered the phone, and J.J. went back to staring at the photo.

“The thing is,” she continued when Skye had hung up, “right now, I’m much more interested in figuring out who killed Marcotti and getting Rocco off the hook.”

“Not your job. How about a choir made up of his coworkers singing lyrics you write that are set to a popular song?”

“Too ordinary, in an unusual kind of way.” She closed her eyes. When she opened them, the door was flung open and Connor walked in.

“Hi, gorgeous. I’ve just finished taping an interview for tomorrow’s show and I’m ravenous. Join me for an early dinner? Hi, Skye.”

Skye waved at him, then turned to her computer.

“I’d like to, Connor, but I have to finish off this proposal I’m working on. I’m running out of time.”

“We’ll make it a quick meal. I just heard about Rocco Gates being in jail, and I thought you might want to talk some more about it all. I’ve been thinking about the murder ever since you first got involved. Do you think they’ve finally got their man, or is there something they’re missing?”

He looked so concerned and sincere and delectable in his beige chinos, black plaid shirt, and black leather jacket. Of course, Connor always looked his best. He ran his hand across his chin. He seemed to do it unconsciously, although she often wondered if he was checking the thickness of his facial growth.

J.J. sighed. She could always work on the project later that night. She did want to talk more about the murder and try to figure it out. Going over it in her head was leading nowhere. And Devine was her only real sounding board these days, not that he was encouraging. She turned off the blank screen on her computer and grabbed her purse.

“They’re missing a lot, in my book. Okay, let’s do a quick dinner, if you don’t mind. See you later, Skye.”

They walked a couple of blocks toward the lake and easily found a table at that hour at the popular O’Casey’s. She realized that in just a couple of short months they’d be able to sit out on the wraparound porch with a wonderful view of the water, if they were lucky enough to get the right table. Summer. She was looking forward to it.

Connor ordered them each a glass of Shiraz and then asked, “So, what’s the latest, and don’t tell me you haven’t been poking your nose into things. I saw how your eyes lit up when I suggested discussing the murder. Not the having dinner with me but the murder, I might add.” He was smiling, but J.J. wondered if there might be a message there. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt his feelings.

“I can’t help it, Connor. First, being a suspect, and now, having someone I like and admire being arrested. It’s just too much.”

“Okay, so who are the other suspects, according to Josephine June Tanner?”

J.J. cringed, regretting her moment of weakness in telling him her full name. She leaned forward and said in a low voice, “I asked you never to call me that.”

Connor grinned. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. J.J. it is. Now, what’s the answer?”

A voice behind J.J. answered, “Answer? To what? Are you proposing?”

J.J. whipped around. “Evan!” She glared at him, hoping he got the “don’t go there” message. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for Michael. We’re eating early, then heading to the cinema. It’s movie night and we’ve run out of DVDs, so we’re splurging by going out.”

“Why don’t you join us?” Connor asked.

Evan looked at J.J., who gave a small nod. “Sure thing. This is really the time to be eating here, isn’t it?” He looked around him. “Maybe we could ask for a bigger table?”

Michael arrived as they were settling at the new spot. After they’d placed their orders, Evan leaned forward with both arms on the table and asked Connor, “You know all the players in town. Surely you’ve heard talk about a motive for the murder. Or maybe even some names that are being thrown around as possible suspects?”

Connor cocked an eyebrow. “As flattering as that is, I’m not really that much in the know. I can dish all sorts of info about the celebs and media, but I don’t necessarily have an in when it comes to the business world.”

“I beg to differ,” Michael stated and everyone looked at him. “You did that interview a couple of years ago that turned into a bit of an expose on the lack of regulations for the new food trucks. That got a lot of people talking and even brought into being a new bylaw. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Connor looked like he was blushing, which surprised J.J.
This really was another side of him that she hadn’t encountered before.

“That’s impressive, Connor. Are you sure you haven’t dabbled in the restaurant world?”

He grinned. “Okay, maybe a little. I guess I should confess to having been part owner of Harry’s Haven several years ago.”

“I remember hearing something about that,” Evan ventured.

“Seriously?” J.J. was surprised. “That’s so cool. But you’re talking past tense. What happened?”