Toasting Up Trouble (A Dinner Club Mystery) (7 page)

“No,” J.J. said in unison with Devine’s “Yes.”

Ness shook his head. “Go make yourselves comfortable.”

When he joined them with two coffees, J.J. was sitting in a well-worn club chair next to the sliding patio door while Devine had chosen the leather recliner. His chair. Ness glared at him as he handed over the coffee.

“So talk.”

Devine took a sip first. Then another. “Let’s just say there’s been some concern that Marcotti had something going on the side and that a lot of money has been spent on gift items, namely jewelry.”

Ness finished off his coffee in two gulps. “Hah. You think J.J. might be the one, and so you’re still tailing her, hoping to see when she goes out so you can search her apartment for the stuff.”

J.J.’s jaw dropped open. “No way. You were going to break into my place? That’s illegal, and what makes you think I was fooling around with Marcotti? Could you not hear us arguing? Is that what lovers do?”

Devine smiled. “Of course they do. Don’t try to play innocent.”

J.J. jumped up. “I’m not playing. I am innocent.” She stopped just short of stamping her foot. That would make her look childish, she knew. “I only met the guy a few weeks ago.”

“On March third. You’ve since been to his restaurant a couple of times.”

“He’s doing, or rather
did
, a catering job for me. For my client. I needed to confer with him, and then I wanted to taste his food to make sure it was as good as I’d been told.”

“You hired him to cater an event and you had no idea what his food tastes like?” Devine sounded like he didn’t believe her.

“I went with a recommendation from someone whose judgment I respect,” she huffed.

Devine shrugged. “I’m dealing in facts here.”

“You are not. You’re dealing in suppositions. The fact is, I hired him to cater an event. Next fact: he stiffed me with an unexpected addition to the menu. Next fact: we argued. That’s all I had to do with the guy.” She sat down abruptly and crossed her arms, then her legs.

Ness looked from J.J.’s angry face to Devine’s amused expression. “Let’s call it a draw. J.J. was not his mistress, therefore you do not have to follow her any longer. And you certainly don’t have to search her place. J.J., you can now relax because the police know you’re not the murderer.”

“Unless she snuck back there and killed him.”

“You didn’t follow her all the way home?”

Devine shook his head sheepishly. “I felt confident that’s where she was heading and equally confident that nothing else would happen at that hour of the night.”

“Shows how wrong you can be,” J.J. threw in. “And, just for the record, I did not go back and kill him. I did go home and went to bed. It was almost three
A.M.
for Pete’s sake. I had to get back to the Portovino estate in just a few hours.”

Devine stood. “All right, then.”

“All right,” J.J. answered, standing also.

Ness glanced from one to the other again and then stood. “Glad that’s settled. Good night to you both. Don’t slam the door on your way out, Devine. J.J., just wait a minute.”

Devine nodded at them both and left.

Ness waited a few beats after the door had closed. “I’m not totally sure how much I trust that guy. Be sure to lock up whenever you go out.”

“Do you think he’s dangerous?” She felt a chill run down her spine.

Ness shook his head. “He won’t physically harm you, but he still has a client, and I’d say he’s not about to quit.”

So what did all that mean?
J.J. wondered as she got ready for work the next morning. Ty Devine had told the police that Marcotti had been alive when she’d left, so she was in the clear. But then he had left soon after and hadn’t followed her home. So she might not be in the clear if he’d also mentioned that to the police.

But why did he leave if he was supposed to be following Marcotti? Could he be the killer?

Intrigued by the question, she added a long scarf in shades of neutrals to the long-sleeved white blouse and green pants she’d chosen, then stopped abruptly when she checked the mirror. Her pants were green and her jacket was red. She looked like a Christmas tree. Obviously, too much on her mind. And where had those green pants come from anyway? She vaguely remembered buying them on a lark at some point but thought they’d been relegated to the back of the closet. Obviously, they had to be added to the Goodwill bag. These
days she started with blacks, adding a bit of color, something different, each day. It made life so much easier to build on black. She was working hard on her time-management skills.

At the office, anxious to talk over the previous evening’s events, she waited patiently for Skye to finish a phone call with a client. She glanced down as she sat at her desk, just to make sure she had indeed changed to the black pants. All was good.

Skye hung up the phone and raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows. Even from that distance J.J. could see that Skye had recently been to an esthetician, possibly even that morning.

“What’s up?” Skye asked. “Have the police been bothering you again?”

“Not the police,” J.J. answered, and then filled her in.

“Wow. Being followed by a mysterious and handsome private eye.”

“I did not say he was handsome.”

“No, but you blushed when I did.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Anyway, Marcotti sounds like a total creep, cheating on his wife and stiffing colleagues. We got off lightly, I’d say, since he’s not able to continue to give us grief.”

“Ouch.”

“I know that sounds callous, but I didn’t know the guy personally and I do know what he did to you. Obviously, there’s at least one other person on his list who got shafted by the guy. I’m sure the police have discovered that by now, so I’d say the heat is probably off you.” She smiled and cocked her head. “Wouldn’t you?”

J.J. sighed. “You’re probably right. I don’t have time to sit around worrying about this anyway. I have to finish the proposal for Olivia Barker today.”

“You do that. It’s just what you need to take your mind off this murder business.”

J.J. had made it to page three of her proposal when the office door swung open and Tansy Paine marched over to J.J.’s
desk, put both hands on it, and leaned toward her. “Do you need a lawyer?”

J.J. moaned. “What? No. What did you hear? I don’t think I need a lawyer.”

“I think you should have one on speed dial even if you don’t need representation at this moment. I’m happy to recommend someone in case you do. I don’t do criminal litigation, you know.”

Skye stood up. “Thanks, Tansy. J.J. was just getting all mellow and into her work, and you waltz in and bring it all up again.”

Tansy stood straight, almost at eye level with Skye’s five feet three inches. “It’s all over town. Marcotti’s murder, that is. And I have it on the best authority that J.J. is a suspect.”

“Who said that?” J.J. demanded.

“A friend who shall remain anonymous. She’s a good pipeline into the police department.” Tansy straightened the hem of her orange jacket, which was just short enough to show off her tiny waist.

“Well, I’m innocent, and I’m pretty sure they realize that by now.”

Tansy reached over and patted her arm. “Why, honey, I’m just looking out for your best interests. I’m certain, knowing you, that you wouldn’t kill anybody, but the police need to solve this, and from what I hear, they’re not racking up a lot of other suspects.”

She looked from J.J. to Skye. “I have to get back to my office. Piles of work to tackle. But just remember, I’m right across the hall whenever you need me.”

J.J. sat mesmerized watching Tansy glide back the way she’d come, handling her four-inch heels like they were sneakers. Skye sat back down and shook her head.

“She means well. I guess.” She looked at the Keurig coffee machine atop the cherry wood buffet that had once resided
at her home. The closed doors held a wider variety of options. “I think I’ll go get a latte. Can I bring you anything? A latte?”

J.J. nodded. “Yes, thanks.”

She just gotten back into the proposal when the door opened again and Evan walked over to where Tansy had been standing.

“I need to talk to you, J.J.”

“Sure, Evan.” J.J. looked closely at him. His straw-colored V-neck sweater looked wrinkled and didn’t present his usual striking effect with the beige shirt that was under it. He mostly went for contrast. “What’s up? You’re looking weird. No offense.”

He sat in the armchair across from her desk. “The police had me in for questioning last night.”

“The police? But why? Was it about Antonio Marcotti?”

“That’s right.” He tugged at his shirt collar as if he were wearing a too-tight tie. “You see, we had a set-to just after I finished the job for him. He took forever to pay me and gave me the runaround whenever I asked. Long story short, he eventually paid, but then the rumors about my work ethic started. I challenged him on it, and he just laughed and said who would ever believe me over him?” Evan slumped back in the chair looking dejected.

“The man just gets viler by the minute. That’s much like what happened to me, that last part anyway. But that was a couple of years ago. Surely the police wouldn’t think you’d waited this long to kill him.”

Evan crossed his arms and stared at the hardwood floor. “I just happened to run into him a couple of days before he died. Michael and I had dinner out, then stopped off for a drink on the way home.” He looked at J.J., who nodded for him to go on. “Marcotti happened to be there, too. I mentioned that he’d better treat you fairly, and he took a poke at me.”

“He hit you?”

“Yeah. And there were witnesses.”

“You didn’t hit him back, did you?”

“No. I’m not into that physical stuff. I did say something like he’d better watch his step, though.”

J.J. groaned. “Oh no, Evan. Who were the witnesses? Are they reliable? Were they his staff? They could be seen as biased.”

“We’d stopped in at the Hutch. You know that’s where a lot of the people in the business hang out after they close up shop. Unfortunately, a lot of them knew both of us.”

“And you did that for me? I’m feeling bad that it’s ended you up in trouble.” J.J. went over and gave him a hug.

“It’s not your fault. I’ve been wanting to confront him for a long time.” Evan flashed a small smile. “I could never prove he’d bad-mouthed me, but I could head him off this time, or so I thought.”

J.J. sat back down and stared at her computer. After a few minutes of silence, she said, “And the police think you killed him because he hit you? That’s awfully flimsy.”

“I think it is, but as Tansy says, they’ve got to pin it on someone.”

“You’ve talked to Tansy about this?”

“She waylaid me as soon as I got in this morning.”

“That pipeline of hers is very fluid.” J.J. thought a moment. “Look, I need to get out of here and clear my head. Why don’t we go to lunch?”

Evan shook his head. “Can’t. I have a client coming in half an hour. Thanks for the thought, though. So, you really don’t think the police are a threat?”

J.J. smiled. “Nah. They’ve got two of us on the list now, and from what I’ve been hearing about Marcotti, I’ll bet there’ll soon be more. Despite what Tansy says.” She crossed her fingers anyway.

J.J. finished the proposal at the same time her stomach started alerting her it was time for dinner. She read over the proposal again before e-mailing it to Olivia Barker. Then she printed out a copy and left it to be filed by their part-time office worker, Brittany Stewart, when she was in on Friday after school.

Next on her list was a stop at Rocco G’s on her way home for some advice on what vermouth to use for her pizzaiola. With only a few days until the big dinner, she could feel her stress level starting to rise whenever she thought about it.

She found him alone in his shop, staring at the shelves of olive oil to the left of the checkout counter.

“Hi, Rocco. Hope I’m not interrupting. You seem deep in thought.”

He turned to face her and smiled, but not before she noticed the worry in his eyes. “J.J., my friend. How nice to see you. And what can I do for you today? Some shopping, some advice, or some espresso? Or maybe all three? Let me fix you an espresso to lay the workday at rest.”

“That would be nice. Can you join me?”

“Delighted to.” He gave her a small bow and went to tend to the drinks while J.J. settled at a bistro table. She watched the passing traffic on the street until Rocco joined her a few minutes later.

“For
la bella signorina
.” Rocco sat across from her and lifted his cup.
“Salute!”

“Salute!”
She sipped and savored. “Mm, this is delicious. There’s something about the beans you use—or is it the machine? Or the person making it?”

Rocco chuckled. “Perhaps a combination of the three. Now, what brings you here?”

She took another sip before answering. “I need your advice on vermouth.”

“Ah, the big Italian feast is this Sunday, am I right?”

She nodded. “Yes, and I’ve been so busy at work lately that I haven’t given it another thought since we last spoke. Now I’m starting to feel a bit anxious.”

“You must not let your mind travel to that place. It will show in your cooking. Have confidence in your ability to do this. I have complete faith in you.”

J.J. laughed.
What a delightful man
. “Easier said than done, I’m afraid, although I do appreciate the vote of confidence. I’ll need a lot more than that in order to get on track.”

“
Si
. It has been a difficult week, has it not? I understand the police were questioning you about Antonio Marcotti’s death.”

“It’s all around the village, isn’t it?” J.J. sighed. “Yes, they did but I sort of have an alibi, so I’m hoping they’re through with me.” She crossed her fingers.

“They may have found another suspect to take your place,” Rocco said glumly.

“Who? What have you heard?” Did he know about the police questioning Evan Thornton? She changed her mind about that when she looked at his face. “Not you!”

“Oh yes, me. I spent most of the afternoon at the station answering questions. Being interviewed, they called it. The inquisition, I call it.”

“But why? Besides both being in the business, why would they suspect you?”

Rocco finished his espresso and looked at her a few moments before speaking. She felt a slight chill run down her spine. “We were rivals. And, we were sworn enemies. Everyone knows. It was a matter of honor, from the past. However, we both chose to hang on to the past and let it color our dealings in the present. Foolish, when I think of it now. But for all these years, it’s been very important to us both.”

“May I ask what it was about?”

Rocco shook his head. “Something in the old country, before we came here. We were from the same village, did you know that? Went to school together. We were friends then. And we both immigrated to this country around the same time, but we were no longer friends at that point. A woman . . .” His voice trailed off and he appeared trapped in that past.

J.J. wasn’t sure what to say. She waited, turning her gaze once again to the outside.

Finally, Rocco roused himself and sat up straighter. “I did not do it. I am not a murderer. I must make sure the police believe that.”

“I know there are at least two other suspects, and from what I understand, he made a lot of enemies. Surely there’ll be more names added to that list.”

Rocco snorted just as the front door opened. J.J. was astonished to see Ty Devine enter. He looked surprised to see her, then smiled. She couldn’t help but notice that the smile reached his eyes, which seemed to twinkle a brighter blue as he got closer.

“Well, well. Tracking down the suspects, Ms. Tanner?”

“What? No. Rocco is helping me with some cooking advice.” She glared at Devine, resenting his intrusion, even if he was easy on the eyes.

Devine held out his hand to Rocco and introduced himself. “I hope you don’t mind if I ask you a few questions about Antonio Marcotti.”

Rocco sighed and pointed to a chair at the next table, which Devine pulled over. “No, I suppose I must get used to this. In fact, J.J. and I were just talking about his untimely death.”

J.J. frowned just as Devine looked at her. He smiled, like he’d been right, which annoyed her even more.

“I understand you knew Marcotti for a long time and had some history,” Devine stated. “Do you have an alibi?”

“No. I was at home, asleep at the time of his death. Alone except for my cat.”

J.J. looked at him. A fellow cat lover.
Nice.