Sliced and Toasted With Murder (A Josie Rizzo Cozy Mystery Book 2)

by J R Pearson

  "I don’t know nothin' about that," he said, and walked away.

  "He knows something,” Brad said. Josie shrugged. Sudden movement across the lot caught her eye. Weaving through parked cars, Brian speed walked for his own.

  "Hmm." Josie thought Brian went home already. She bit her bottom lip and glanced at the clock on her phone. Dinner with Tony started in thirty minutes.

  Enough time to dash home, change, pack up her share of dinner, and grab Petey.

  That was after she had a little chat with Mr. Fitzgerald. Call her Suspicious Susie she thought it weird Brian was in town the same day his brother was murdered. And call her Nosey Nelly, she wanted to know what for. Brian was fishing for his keys, then stopped, when he saw her approaching.

  "I'm sorry for your loss," she said softly. Brian looked battered like a leaf caught on the grill of someone’s car.

  "Thank you." He offered a weak smile.

  Josie played it casual, or so she hoped. "Did you get a chance to see Gordy when you came to town?" Was that a bit too forward? Brian's keys slipped through his fingers, clanging to the ground. He scrambled to pick them up. His face red, and thin hair disarray.

  "Un-unfortunately, no, I didn’t," he stuttered.

  "I'm sorry to hear that. You must've been busy..." She let it hang. Brian smoothed his tie and fiddled with a key ring, not meeting her gaze. Was he nervous? Did his refusal to look up mean he wanted her to go away? Probably.

  "Strange how nature works."

  "How so?" he mumbled.

  "Your job requiring you to be in Greenville the same time your brother died." Josie's mouth dried when Brian fixed a steely glare on her.

  "I had business in the area. My clients," Brian sniffed, "are young parents who wanted to look—" He sniffed again. "—at the homes here."

  "You’re a real estate agent?"

  "Yes." Brian got into his vehicle. "Good day." Josie moved away for him to leave. So, Brian was in Greenville to show a couple of newbie parents some starter homes.

  Could it be that simple?

  Josie thought otherwise.

  Brian's constant sniffing reminded her of when her brothers were caught in a lie. Interjecting sharp intakes through their nostrils during their made-up tale. She figured doing so bought her brothers more time to think and add to their lie.

  Brian was pulling a Rizzo.

  And speaking of brothers...

  ***

  "That's F-I-T-Z-G-E-R-A-L-D," Josie said into her cell phone that was pressed between her ear and shoulder.

  "I know how to spell ‘Fitzgerald,’ Josie," Reese grumbled.

  "Sorry," she giggled, turning in her apartment kitchen. Reese Rizzo, identical twin to Russel Rizzo: twenty-three-year-old computer-whiz geniuses. The youngest and stellar-performing agents at West Emily's cybercrime-criminal department.

  They got paid the big bucks to track down culprits through the encryption-riddled and predator-infested dark forest of the Internet. Fingers flying across the keyboard, Josie's younger brothers could locate anything about anybody. She tagged Reese before he and Russel left the office. He was currently bringing up everything on Brian Fitzgerald while she lifted the lid of her slow-cooker.

  Inside, thick short ribs floated in rich-smelling broth. As she stirred the ribs around, meat detached from the bones with each swoop of the spoon.

  Tony was going to love it.

  Cell phone pressed between her ear and shoulder, Josie grabbed her slim camera and took a picture of the large, steaming pot. The night before, she’d captured a photo of the salt-and-peppered short ribs sizzling in a pan. Then one of them marinating in broth, tomato sauce, Worcester sauce, cooked garlic, and oil. She added herbs to the marinade, and poured all of it into a zip freezer bag to chill overnight.

  This morning, she’d dumped it in her stainless-steel slow cooker, where it had been simmering for nine hours. The last picture for her monster-size blog post would be the finished plate of the succulent ribs next to garlic-mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli. It was Tony's job to provide those.

  Of course, red wine would make an appearance.

  A few appearances.

  Reese came back on.

  "Okay, Brian Harold Fitzgerald is forty-six. Lives in a townhouse in southern West Emily. The run-down part," Reese added. “Not married. No kids. He's employed by Dust Sucking Suitors."

  "What's that?" Josie wrinkled her nose.

  "It's a small, practically non-profit, vacuum company." Reese explained. "Fitzgerald is listed as a sales associate."

  Josie gaped at Petey, who was sitting by the door of their apartment, his way of saying “Hurry the hell up. We've got somewhere to be.”

  "Brian sells vacuum cleaners?" She knew Brian was lying.

  "A door-to-door salesman is the term commonly used," Reese informed her. Josie ladled out meat and broth into a large Tupperware container.

  "Can you tell me anything else?" she asked.

  "I can give you more info if—" Reese suddenly became serious. "You return the favor." Josie rolled her eyes. She was used to the games her brothers played. Not caring about the unknown favor she owed, she agreed.

  "You first," she said.

  "All right. Dust Sucking Suitors filed for bankruptcy last week and Fitzgerald was in the first batch to be laid off."

  "Harsh." Josie hit the speaker button and then maneuvered the hot closed container into a tote bag. That done, she leaned against the counter.

  Why had Brian come to Greenville? She thought. Looking for work, possibly?

  "My turn," Reese interrupted her train of thought. "I would like to know something," he said.

  "Go ahead."

  "Two things, actually—"

  "Ask before I hang up, Reese."

  "Okay, okay. It's all over the news here that the late hotel owner of the Fitz and Glitz, Martha Fitzgerald's son, Gordy was stabbed to death. Does your sudden interest in Brian have to do with his brother’s murder?"

  "I'm not sure yet," she admitted.

  "Is this going to lead you to getting hurt, like before?" he asked, his voice growing hard. It had been a month since Thomas Nelson broke into her apartment and held a gun on her. She hadn’t been harmed physically. Emotionally scarred? Yeah, just a bit.

  "If police consider Brian a suspect and you’re involved—" Reese said.

  "I’m not!" Josie huffed.

  "—then I'm calling Mom."

  Josie stopped cold. "Don't," she whispered.

  "One whiff, Josie," he warned. "If I get one whiff that you’re in danger—and make note; Russel and I will be watching—I'm releasing The Mom on you. Understood?" Since when had Reese become the older sibling? Josie rubbed a hand over her face.

  "I understand. Nothing’s going to happen."

  "Promise?" Now he sounded like the little boy whom Josie had taught to ride a bike—asking her to promise to not let go.

  "I promise, Reese," she sighed.

  "Good. One more question."

  "I'm listening."

  "What's up with you and Tony?"

  Click.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Josie and Petey, carrying delicious-smelling meat, arrived at Tony's house with seconds to spare. Petey shifted excitedly the whole ride, knowing he was about to see his best friend, Jade, the giant and beautiful black Great Dane. Josie loved how different the pair were. Size hadn't made it awkward for them. They both acted looney, just the same.

  Tony greeted her with a blood-warming kiss to the cheek. She felt guilty for thinking Honey would be in attendance. Josie knew Tony would never let someone else come in between their friendship. Hence why no one was ever invited, even Brad, to their weekly dinners. The time alone gave them a chance to fill in the ten-year-old blanks in each other’s lives.

  And time for Josie to figure out why she felt compelled to rip out Honey's hair.

  "Happy thoughts," Josie mumbled to herself.

  "What was that?" Tony asked, pouring them both a glass of
wine.

  "Nothing!" She wasn’t about to let Tony and Honey's leaving the funeral together—for reasons still unknown—ruin her night.

  "Let’s eat."

  ***

  After dining, she and Tony sat side-by-side on his porch swing. The luscious dark-blue night sky loomed above. Neighbors’ porch and garage lights flickered on. The white wooden swing creaked along with the crickets. Jade and Petey played whack-a-mole with tiny frogs that hopped through the grass.

  "What have you found out?" Tony asked.

  "Found out about what?" Josie hid behind her glass.

  "Don’t play dumb." He reached over to take the glass from her. "I know you know something. You’ve been bouncing in your seat the whole night." He smiled crookedly.

  "Must’ve been the wine," she shrugged.

  "Jo," he said, sliding his arm behind her shoulders, his knuckles brushing her cheek lightly. "Tell me. I don’t want to be blindsided like I was when you called saying you found a bloody knife."

  "It wasn't the murder weapon, though—"

  "Jo," he growled. She let out a breath.

  "Buckle your seat belt, Santino." She launched into all that had happened in the past five days. Starting with being there when Gordy's body was found—funny how she hadn’t mentioned that before. Well, at least she thought so. Tony remained a humorless concrete statue. And then she ended with Brian's recent unemployment from Dust Sucking Suitors.

  "I'm thinking the lack of business was due to the name." She tapped her chin. Tony frowned at her. "You think so, too?"

  "I think you need to be locked in my closet until the police arrest the killer," he said. Josie wiggled her eyebrows.

  "I might just let you." She snapped her mouth shut, eyes widening. Where had that come from?

  Tony raised his dark eyebrows. The hand caressing her cheek now clasped her shoulder and squeezed, his lips inches from her ear.

  "Don't tempt me." His warm breath made her shiver. The edge in his voice and square-cut jaw clenching were clear indicators that Tony was being serious. Scary serious, though the playful twinkle in his eyes suggested otherwise.

  What was happening here?

  "I need you to promise me something," he said. Josie dropped her head back against his arm, releasing a loud groan. Today was National Promise Day, folks. Was it marked on her calendar? Had she missed a news bulletin?

  "Jo, can you promise me that you won’t do anything irrational that'll put you in immediate harm?" He went on. "Like staking out strange places in the dead of night or cornering potential suspects at their vehicles."

  An argument-filled bubble made its way up inside Josie, like an elevator reaching the top floor. She was ready to open the doors when Tony placed a finger on her lips.

  "But since you’re a very bright, independent woman holding an intelligent brain inside that beautiful head, I doubt it'll be hard for you to comply."

  "Smooth." She narrowed her eyes, unable to hide a grin.

  "Thank you." He winked, flashing a charming smile. "I mean it. Even if you have the urge to further look into something—which I know you can't help sometimes, and I wouldn't want you to change who you are—can you least call me first?"

  "I'll try," she sighed.

  "That's all I ask." He squeezed her shoulder again. "Does chocolate gelato sound good? Freshly made."

  "I'm thinking, yeah, it really does," she nodded. Tony whistled for the dogs to come. He and Josie both bent over to grab her wine glass at the same time. Their heads instantly collided.

  "Ow!"

  "Son of a—" Tony grimaced, blinking rapidly. "I think your head knocked the vision out in my left eye."

  "Oh, shut up." Josie punched his arm with the hand that wasn’t clutching her throbbing skull. He laughed and pulled her to him.

  "Let me see." His fingertips gently brushed aside her hair. There above her eyebrow, a small light red splotch. He kissed the spot. Josie looked up at him, her face heating.

  "Now I'll heal in no time," she said.

  "Becoming a doctor was my second career choice," he smirked. Hesitantly, he touched her chin, tilting it further up, his heart thudding in his chest.

  "Jo..." His lips parted. As did hers.

  Should he...? Tony thought.

  Will he...? Josie hoped.

  Petey barked.

  Jade growled.

  "Tony?” a voice said.

  He and Josie jumped apart and looked to the cause of interruption. Honey Tucker stood a few feet away on the concrete path leading to the porch steps. She wore a low-cut burgundy dress, black needle-point heels and held a bottle of wine. Josie hadn’t even noticed Tucker park her car at the curb.

  "I'm sorry." She smiled sheepishly, glancing between Josie and Tony. "Am I interrupting?"

  "No," Josie said just as Tony said "Yes.” Josie got up from the swing, Petey obediently trotting to her side.

  "I was just leaving." Boy, she sounded like such a cliché. This whole clichéd scene was right out of a cheesy romance movie. She dashed inside and grabbed her purse, Tony hot on her heels.

  "Where the hell do you think you're going?" he demanded.

  "Home."

  "Don't be ridiculous. Why—"

  "It was a lovely dinner. You can give back the container whenever," she said, finding her car keys.

  "How about you can take it with you after we've finished with our night?" he growled.

  "My night is finished. Besides, Petey has trouble falling asleep if he stays up too late." She averted her eyes. She was lying, and Tony knew she was too. It was a sucky one. Anyone who knew Petey knew he had no trouble escaping into blissful unconsciousness.

  At night.

  During the day.

  In her car.

  In the middle of a tornado...

  "If you’re thinking I invited Honey, you’re dead wrong," Tony hissed.

  "Actually, I wasn’t," Josie shrugged. "It’s none of my business."

  "Come on, Jo. You know I would never let anyone come between what we have here," he said. The spot above Josie's eyebrow began to throb again. What exactly do we have? She thought. It sure as hell didn’t feel like just a couple of plain-Jane friends shootin' the breeze while their dogs played Let’s See Who Assassinates the Most Frogs!

  “Friends” didn't try to kiss each other.

  To Josie's horror, she hadn't realize what she was thinking was actually coming out of her mouth. They both stared wide-eyed, chests heaving, standing frozen in place. She couldn’t read Tony's expression. He completely shut her out.

  "Maybe we shouldn’t be friends," he said quietly. "Maybe we—. JO!"

  Josie whipped away, refusing to stop, heading for the door. Outside, she scooped up Petey, brushing past Tucker. She almost gagged, going through a cloud of perfume the woman wore.

  Tears threatened to spill. Josie wanted to believe it was because of Tucker's harsh chemical odor.

  Goodbye, beautiful homemade gelato.

  Hello, cheap store-bought vanilla ice cream.

  ***

  The next day at In The Box, Josie remained outside at the bistro's cobblestone patio, refilling customer's cups with lemonade and limeade. When her pitchers ran dry, she breezed through the restaurant to the fridge, head down, not looking in the direction of the long front serving counter, where Tony was fulfilling orders. She did the same on the way out.

  "Sweetie, I don’t know what's going on with you," Brad said, handing out food to a large family with three small adorable kids. Josie smiled and chuckled when they clapped and cheered as baskets of mini hot dogs and grapes were placed in front of them.

  Food got people excited.

  Nothin' wrong with that.

  "What do you mean?" she asked. Brad guided her away.

  "You tell me," he said, tilting his head. "And don’t feign ignorance. It’s not attractive." When she didn't immediately answer, he asked, “Is this about Tony?"

  "Yes."

  "Josie, you're my best friend." H
e cupped her face. "If something is bothering you, don’t be afraid to lay it on me."

  Josie bit her lip, a natural tell of hers when she was either nervous or troubled. Brad had been accustomed to it for years.

  "You have feelings for him, don’t you?"

  CHAPTER TEN

  "Yes."

  "I KNEW IT!" Brad jumped up and down, drawing attention.

  "Quit it! People are staring." Josie tugged at his shirt.

  "The second that hunk of godly flesh came back into town, I knew you were a goner." Brad grinned. "At first I wasn't too sure about him—granted, he was suspected of murder at the time." Now people were definitely listening. Josie dragged him inside and through the kitchen's swinging door.

  "Uh-huh! Watch it, you two!" Greta warned, taking out a fresh batch of oven fries. "I’m on a roll here. Don’t mess me up. But If you're talking about something juicy then be sure to speak loud and clear. I don’t wanna miss anything."

  "Josie’s in love!"

  "BRAD!" He and Greta fist-pumped the air and shook their bottoms. Josie pinched her arm and counted to ten...

  ...Nope. She wasn't still in bed, wallowing in this year's number-one-ranked weirdest dream.

  "I didn't say that," she snapped. Her jumpin' flea circus feelings confused her, but in love? She was not. That was for certain... Right?

  "I hear no denying it, girlie." Greta waved a pair of tongs.

  "She and Tony haven’t talked all morning," Brad said. "They've been walking on eggshells around each other. Something happened,” he mused, “that I so sadly wasn’t there to witness."

  "There wasn’t anything to watch to begin with," Josie muttered. Brad continued, ignoring her.

  "If you ask me, you both need to stop fighting your true feelings for one another and let it out." The word “uncomfortable” was now Josie's new middle name.

  And zodiac sign.

  "Keeping things bottled up isn’t healthy. Take my word," Greta said. "One day I ate a whole pan of extra-extra cheesy baked ziti—"

  "Oh, jeez." Josie looked to the ceiling.

  "Boy, were the ladies in my pottery class in for a surprise when I leaned over to rinse my hands." Greta snickered. "The air that came out of me could have re-fired Mrs. Robinson’s clay bowl." Greta's snickering turned into a fit of laughter. Brad joined in. "Being lactose-intolerant is a terrible thing, I tell ya.” The kitchen door swung open.