When she’d been explaining to her brother what had happened at the party, she’d mentioned that Marco had denied ever loving Tina Calabrese. She’d said he told her the only reason he was marrying Tina was because her father was holding something over him. Jordan’s mind raced with the possibilities of what that something could be.
Images of TV Mafia movies where the code of silence prevailed played in her head. Could Marco have done something he didn’t want the world to know about? Was Emilio’s silence about whatever Marco had done the driving force that had convinced the Italian playboy to marry a woman he didn’t love? Or could it have been just money?
She quickly tossed that last idea out since both Marco and Emilio were wealthy. So what was it then?
She still hadn’t come up with a logical explanation fifteen minutes later when Natalie said good night and went to bed. Finally, Jordan drifted off to sleep with that thought still on her mind.
* * * * *
Jordan awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, and for a moment, she was confused about where she was. Slowly, she rose from the couch and was greeted with a kiss and a cup of coffee, along with a gigantic piece of something chocolate that looked fantastic.
Wide-eyed, she smiled at Alex, whose hair was still wet from the shower. Dressed in a pair of khaki slacks and a red golf shirt that showed off his chiseled upper arms, his eyes glinted mischievously when he saw her reaction. Scolding herself for the naughty thought that invaded her mind and sent a warm surge through her body, she reminded herself that his mother was in the next room.
She forced her eyes away from his face and reached for the pastry. “This doesn’t look like Myrtle’s Chocolate Chip Coffee Cake.”
“It isn’t. By the time I got to the diner, she’d already sold out. You know how those good old boys like to congregate in there on Saturday mornings.”
“What time is it anyway?”
“Seven thirty.” Alex pinched off a little of the chocolate treat and put it into his mouth, running his tongue over his lips in a way that almost made Jordan forget there was chocolate in the house.
Almost!
“It’s a new recipe she calls Chocolate Bread Pudding that she made for lunch today. I sweet-talked her into letting me have four pieces even though she wasn’t selling it yet. She said since it’s made with liquor, it would be sacrilegious to serve at seven in the morning.”
He grinned when he saw Jordan’s face fall. “I convinced her that it was five o’clock somewhere. I’m only sorry I won’t be around to watch your face when you eat it. Just so you know, though, I will expect some kind of sexy reward for my efforts.” He winked before adding, “Later, of course, and back at your place.”
He bent down to kiss her just as Kate walked into the living room. Her eyes were bloodshot and a little puffy, and Jordan guessed she had cried herself to sleep.
“Ready, Alex?”
He turned and kissed his sister’s temple before ruffling her hair. “Hey, wipe that sad look off your face. This will be over in no time, and I guarantee after Jeff works his magic at the station, they’ll be glad to get you out of there.” He tried to sound convincing but couldn’t quite pull it off.
He followed his sister to the door, but before he walked out, he turned back to Jordan. “My mom’s still asleep. Kate said she didn’t sleep much last night, either. When she wakes up, her cake is on the counter. I know you have a lot of things to do today, and I think she’ll be okay by herself.”
“I’m good,” Jordan answered. “I don’t think she should be alone. If she’s anything like me, her imagination will run wild if she’s by herself.” She peeked at the clock. “Any idea when you’ll be back?”
He shook his head, his eyes telling her that he was more than a little concerned. “I have no idea how long this will take, but I’ll try to call to give you some idea.” He headed out the door before pausing, “I owe you big time for this.”
Then he was gone, and she was left alone to think about what Kate would have to go through at the station. She wished they were going to the Ranchero Police Station instead of the Plainville one. Since Alex had worked with the Ranchero sheriff on an undercover assignment the previous year, they’d become pretty good friends. It might be advantageous to deal with a familiar face.
Jordan shook her head, finding it hard to believe so much had happened since she’d first met Alex. Had it only been eighteen months ago that she’d gone on her first assignment as a culinary reporter for the Globe?
She remembered that day like it was yesterday. She’d been sent by the newspaper to critique the food at a local steakhouse outside of town, and she’d ordered foie gras by accident. It had ended up in her purse when no one was looking after she’d found out it was fatty duck liver and knew there was no way she could eat it. When her dessert came, she’d still been starving, and the restaurant’s chocolate decadence cake had been almost orgasmic.
She chuckled to herself as she remembered seeing Alex sitting a few tables away and watching his face as she’d performed for him, licking her lips and making soft moaning sounds. He’d tried so hard not to smile but had eventually given in to her antics. It had been her first shot at flirting since her breakup with Brett, and apparently she hadn’t been—and still wasn’t—very good at it because he’d glanced away and hadn’t looked in her direction again.
She’d found out later that he’d thought she was involved in an international diamond smuggling ring and had only forged a friendship with her to get information. But before he’d wrapped up the investigation and sent the bad guys to prison for a very long time, he’d managed to save her life and steal a piece of her heart.
They’d carried on a long-distance romance the entire nine months he was in El Paso on another undercover assignment, and they hadn’t really had the opportunity to give the relationship a chance to work. It wasn’t until he’d been promoted and transferred to Dallas as the field commander at the FBI headquarters downtown that they’d finally been able to spend time together. That was, until his mother and sister showed up for the Italian Festival.
Things weren’t going so well for his family now, and Jordan was frustrated that there was nothing she could do to help. She smiled to herself as an idea popped into her head. She remembered Alex had once teased that the whole world needed to be on high alert when she got one of her hair-brained ideas.
But she couldn’t stand by and do nothing while he and his family were in crisis. She was in a unique position here with a press pass and an assignment to cover all the events of the festival. Today was the first day the vendors would be allowed to set up their booths in preparation for Friday, when the festival would officially open to the public.
Perhaps she could use the contacts to get the scoop on Marco. She might even find out what Emilio had held over his head to convince the playboy to marry his daughter.
A horrible thought burst Jordan’s euphoric bubble. What if after seeing his daughter in tears at the party, Emilio had decided to confront Marco and remind him what he had to lose by being a jerk? And what if that meeting had heated up and ended up with Marco taking a dive over the railing of his balcony? Given that in the past twenty-four hours Jordan had heard stories about the short fuses both men possessed, was that so hard to believe?
She thought not.
She decided she needed a game plan, but not before she overdosed on chocolate and caffeine. Reaching for the bread pudding, she shoveled a huge bite into her mouth. It was even more fabulous than Alex had described, and she wondered if she could talk Myrtle into giving her the recipe for her column. Victor could give it some wonderful Spanish name like Chocolate budin de pan. The Globe readers would love it.
As she inhaled the delicious chocolate desert, she made plans to run out to the Plainville fairgrounds and do a little nosing around after Alex and Kate returned home. What would it hurt to check things out?
In the meantime, as she stared at Natalie’s desert on the kitchen counter,
she said a quick prayer for some serious willpower.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Alex and Kate showed up at the house a little after noon with meatball hoagies from Guido’s, one of Jordan’s all-time favorite restaurants. She caught Alex’s eye and smiled, thinking the dark circles and concern she saw there belied his attempt to appear unfazed by what he’d just watched his sister go through.
“I told you I’d make it up to you,” he said, trying to smile back.
“Alex?”
He turned to his mother whose forehead was creased with worry lines. “Come have something to eat, Mom. These hoagies are better than Uncle Undo’s. Let’s eat them while they’re still a little warm. Then we’ll tell you all about this morning.” He directed her toward the kitchen table. “It’s not bad news. I promise. It’s just complicated right now,” he added in an attempt to erase those lines.
“Unlike the TV shows, it may take weeks for the DNA samples to come back,” Kate said. “Without that, the only thing Captain Darnell could do was ask me a few more questions.”
Natalie’s face lit up with renewed hope. “Maybe they won’t find Marcus’s DNA under your—”
“Yes, Mother, they will,” Kate interrupted. “And when that happens, the police will pull off their kid gloves and come after me. But for now I don’t want to think about it. I’m exhausted, and I’m starving.” She sat down opposite Natalie at the table and unwrapped one of the sandwiches. “What do you have to drink, Alex?” she asked cutting off any further questions from her mother.
After they’d devoured the sandwiches, Jordan cleared the table, gently rebuffing Kate’s attempt to help. “You’ve had a horrific night. Why don’t you lie down and try to catch a nap?”
“That’s a great idea,” Natalie echoed, taking Kate’s arm and guiding her out of the kitchen.
To everyone’s surprise, Kate allowed her mother to lead her to the bedroom. As soon as Natalie closed the door behind Kate, she turned to Alex. “You should get some rest, too, son. I’m counting on you to get Kate through this, and I need you at the top of your game.”
“You’re probably right, but it’s not my A game we need, it’s Hamilton’s.” He chuckled. “A few times during the questions this morning I thought Captain Darnell might actually throttle him. As a cop I can tell you that lawyers are not our favorite people, especially ones who know their stuff. But as the brother of someone being interrogated, I felt damn lucky to have him in the room and on our side.”
“Emilio wouldn’t send a lackey,” Natalie said, shooting a quick glance Jordan’s way as a reminder that their conversation the night before was not to be shared.
Alex yawned before turning to Jordan. “What are your plans for today?”
Jordan knew better than to tell him she intended to snoop around over at the Plainville fairgrounds. He’d be all over that like a colony of ants on a discarded doughnut, insisting she keep her nose out of it. “I thought I’d run over and interview some of the vendors at the festival for my column,” she said instead.
Okay, that part wasn’t a lie.
“Good idea,” Natalie chimed in, rescuing her from Alex’s searing gaze—one she knew meant he was trying to decide if she was telling the truth.
She cursed the fact that he could read her so well.
“Would you mind if I tagged along? That way the house will be quiet for these two, and they can get a good rest,” Natalie said.
Crap. It would be hard to do a little investigating with Alex’s mother tagging along, but how could she say no without fessing up about her intentions? Besides, Alex was now grinning at his mother, probably thinking there was no way she could get in trouble with his mother around.
“I’d like that,” Jordan said. “I don’t plan on staying long, and I can have you back in a few hours, unless you want to run by the mall after that.”
Natalie shook her head. “We’ll see how I feel after traipsing around in the Texas sun all day, but there’s really nothing I need at the mall. I’ll probably be ready for a nap myself after we leave the fairgrounds.”
“My mother is saying no to shopping?” Alex whistled, bending down to kiss Natalie on the forehead. “Somebody needs to check her temperature,” he teased before kissing Jordan’s cheek. “It’s settled then. I’m heading to bed, and I’ll see two of my favorite girls tonight.” He winked at them both before making his way to the bedroom.
“Come on,” Natalie said, pulling Jordan toward the door. “I can’t stand sitting around watching my daughter go through this without doing something—anything. Talking to the vendors with you might be the perfect opportunity to find out what goes on behind the scenes. Trust me when I tell you that the worker bees know all the really good gossip. Maybe somebody out there has some dirt on Marco that will help my daughter, and you’re just the pretty face that it will take to dig it out.” She gave Jordan the once-over before saying, “Put some lipstick on and get ready to bat those beautiful eyelashes of yours. We need information.”
Jordan stared at Alex’s mother, positive the woman had read her mind. Like an obedient child, she retrieved the new coral lip-gloss from her purse and smeared it on her lips. Looping her arm through Natalie’s, she said, “Come on, Miss Marple, we have some sleuthing to do.”
* * * * *
By the time Jordan pulled her Camry into the fairground’s parking lot, she and Natalie had forged a fast friendship. On the twenty-minute ride over, Jordan had discovered so many new things about Alex she hadn’t known, including his refusal to leave the family pet alone when the old yellow Lab was dying. According to Natalie, they’d had to pry his little body away from the animal long after the dog had taken its last breath.
Then there was the time during his sophomore year when Kate had begged him to play Mrs. Doubtfire in the school play. No other guy would do it, and according to Natalie, Alex had taken a lot of flak from his football buddies. But he adored his older sister, so he’d made the most of it. Wearing a fat suit and a wig, he’d turned in a memorable and hilarious performance. Was it any wonder that Kate adored him back?
Jordan had always known that Alex and his sister were tight, but it was fun finding out how he’d managed to grow up surrounded by all that estrogen and still turn out so macho.
“How should we work this? Do you want to take the lead, or do you want me to?” Natalie asked, sliding out of the passenger side of the Toyota.
Jordan thought about it for a moment before responding. “Let’s just play it by ear. Some of these folks may respond to you better because you’re Italian, and others may open up to me if they think there’s a chance of getting some free publicity out of it.” She giggled. “They don’t have to know I only write the culinary column.”
She locked the car and the two of them headed toward the fairgrounds which had been turned into a mass of tents, booths, and trailers. Scattered among the melee was a motley crew of men and women with leathery looking skin from too much sun, setting up the rides.
For a second Jordan was reminded of the Texas State Fair, held at Fair Park in downtown Dallas each autumn. A ginormous figure known as Big Tex was suspended above the entrance and bellowed a Texas-sized welcome to the fairgoers as they came through the gate. Unfortunately, the big guy had electrical problems and had gone up in smoke the year before. A replacement now stood in his place.
Here, instead of Big Tex, a huge balloon shaped like an Italian flag flew high in the sky above the entrance.
The fairgrounds were set on ten acres of farmland on the outskirts of Plainville and were the site of a monthly huge flea market. In between, many big corporations held their annual company picnics there and usually offered horseback riding and hayrides. Off to the right Jordan spotted a fenced-in area that she’d bet would house those very same horses.
As they got closer to the actual area where the vendors were setting up, Jordan recognized a few faces she’d seen at the party in Marco’s suite the night before.
She was determined
to do everything in her power for information, and she nudged Natalie forward. “Okay, let’s see if we’re any good at this.”
She followed a step behind as Natalie walked up to the first booth where a fortyish woman with jet black hair pulled back into a bun was busy setting up.
“Hi,” Natalie began. “Can you spare us a few moments of your time? We have some questions we’d like to ask.”
The woman stopped long enough to make eye contact with Natalie and to brush at a stray lock of hair that had escaped from the tight bun. “Sorry. It’s already ninety-four degrees and supposed to hit triple digits today. I want to finish up before I melt.”
Natalie stepped back and motioned with her hand for Jordan to give it a try. Like the other half of a wrestling tag team, Jordan inched forward.
The lady gave her a fleeting glance before turning around to hang a sign on the back wall of the booth. CARLITA’S ITALIAN CREAM CAKE BALLS. Jordan had no idea what an Italian Cream Cake Ball was, but just the thought of a sugar treat right now had her mouth watering like Pavlov’s dog.
Although she had no intentions of taking notes, she pulled out a pad and a pen from her purse for show. “I’m Jordan McAllister from the Ranchero Globe, and I’ll be here all week interviewing vendors like you for my column.” When the lady’s head shot up, she felt Natalie squeeze her arm. But before she asked the important questions, her curiosity got the best of her. “What’s an Italian Cream Cake Ball, anyway?”
“You’re from the newspaper?”
Jordan flashed her press pass. “And I assume you’re Carlita?”
The woman dried her hands on a rag she pulled from under the counter, moving closer to them. “That would be me. Carlita Bruno. I’m from New Jersey, and my sister and I’ve been coming to the festival for a lot of years. I try to bring something new and different to sell every year.” She pointed across the way where a much younger woman who resembled her was busy setting up a booth. “Ginny’s Chicken Cacciatore usually sells out on the first day, even though she brings more every year. And her pepperoni bread doesn’t even make it that long.” She reached back under the counter and brought out a tupperware bowl. “This is my latest concoction.” After opening the bowl she took out two sticks with what looked like a huge chocolate bonbon on the end of each.
Chicken Caccia-Killer (A Jordan McAllister Mystery) Page 7
