by Linda Wiken
“All right, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear anything about you investigating or the others collaborating, and I’m going home to sleep. I’m on nights again, and they roll round awfully quickly and pass by very slowly.” She stood and adjusted her skinny jeans.
“Are you doing Candy surveillance again?”
“I don’t know. We’ll find out our assignment when we go in tonight. It could just be regular patrol, so don’t get your hopes up.”
They waited until Alison had left, and then Skye said, “I wouldn’t have that job for any amount of money.”
“Agreed. I hope she doesn’t get into any more trouble sharing this.”
“Agreed.”
“Maybe her biggest problem will be with herself,” J.J. said thoughtfully. “She’s usually very tight-lipped when it comes to her job. I guess that’s drilled into them.”
“Fortunate thing for you, the drill is wearing off. Now you can stop snooping, because you know the police haven’t locked into Rocco as the murderer.”
“That’s good, but when they discover that Candy didn’t do it, what happens to Rocco?”
CHAPTER 27
J.J. knew she couldn’t give any more time to thinking about Marcotti or any of the other suspects. Her time was better spent looking for a location for her new client, the Vermont Preschool Teachers Association or VPTA, to hold their conference. This was J.J.’s first time working with an association, as Skye usually handled the larger events. However, business was expanding, and they might not be able to afford the luxury of specializing as much as they had been. J.J. was sure she could handle it. She would just have to practice her time management and stay on top of the plans.
She’d compiled a short list of hotels in Burlington when the phone rang. The caller ID showed Olivia Barker. The confidence she’d felt when answering had turned to shock by the time she hung up. Skye noticed the look on her face and asked if she wanted some coffee or something stronger.
“Hemlock juice would be best. Just put me out of my misery. Now.”
“Bad news, I take it.” Skye stood, ready to offer whatever might be needed. She shoved the sleeves of her multicolored blazer up to the elbows.
“That was Olivia Barker. And you’ll never guess what.”
“I won’t believe it if she says she doesn’t like your new idea. I think it’s terrific.”
“Oh, she does also. The trouble is, my competitor had the same idea. Can you believe it?”
Skye stood up and walked over to J.J.’s desk. “No, I don’t believe it.”
“It differs in a few suggestions, but basically it’s the same.”
“There’s no conceivable way you two could come up with the same proposal. Twice. Especially an idea like that. Something fishy is going on. What did Ms. Barker say?”
“She wants to meet with me and the other woman tomorrow afternoon in her office. She loves the idea or ideas and thought maybe we could work together.”
“Uh-oh.” Skye perched on the edge of her desk. “What are your thoughts on that?”
“I don’t like it. Not one bit. This contract belongs to Make It Happen.”
“I’m relieved to hear you say that. And normally I would think that.”
“Do I hear a but in there?” J.J. began chewing on her bottom lip.
Skye went to sit in her chair again. “Just give me a few minutes to think this over. By the way, did she tell you the name of our competitor?”
“Ashley Rose. Does that ring any bells?”
“Off the top of my head, I haven’t heard of her. Why don’t you try Googling her?”
“Good idea.” J.J. tried to find a listing by name, then searched for a Facebook site, tried the Yellow Pages, and finally the local bulletin board where contract workers often posted their credentials, looking for event planners in the area. Nothing.
“I can’t find her anywhere. What do you think that means?” J.J. fanned herself with a ruler that was handy. She wasn’t sure if the rising heat was external or internal, but she took off her black cashmere cardigan and carefully folded it.
“Maybe she’s part of a corporate entity and not into any notoriety. Or maybe she’s just starting out.”
“If she were starting out, you’d think she’d want to have a profile somewhere. It’s important to be on the Internet these days. Or even on LinkedIn. But she’s nowhere. How can she expect to build up a business?”
“You’re right. I don’t have any answers.”
J.J. tried Googling her own name and was surprised, maybe a little shocked, to find a listing of several pages pop up. There was even a mention of her engagement, an article from the community newspaper, a folksy paper with a social page, when she’d lived in the Coville suburb of Montpelier. She remembered getting the call from the reporter after someone in her office had phoned with the tip. J.J. had suspected it was the vice president in charge of public relations, who had always been on the lookout for a chance to get the company’s name in the paper. She didn’t want to read the article any further.
J.J. glanced at Skye, who sat deep in thought, so she checked her e-mails and spent a lot of time deleting old ones. Her favorite procrastination tool.
Finally, Skye said, “I’ve been thinking. Maybe you should sound agreeable to joining forces. We might then be able to figure out this person’s game plan. Or at the very least, if you should have to go through with it, I’d bet it soon becomes apparent who’s the creative thinker in the group.”
“But what if it backfires? Also, we’d have to split the fee.”
Skye shrugged. “I don’t like it, but I don’t really see what else we can do about it. If you refuse, the word could get out that you’re uncooperative.”
“Not good in this industry.”
“No. Anyway, it’s your client, your decision.”
“Thanks for nothing,” J.J. said, knowing she’d accept the suggestion, cooperate, and see where it led. At any rate, she wanted to meet this person of like mind and try to figure out what was happening. Surely, the other person was just as shocked and curious.
“By the way,” Skye said, looking up from her computer, “I’m heading out of town tonight for a couple of days. You’ll hold down the fort, I presume?” She had a playful look on her face that matched the tone of her voice.
“Natch. What’s up, if I may be so bold as to ask?”
“I thought I’d drive to Stowe and talk to a few of the hotel owners there. It might be fun to set up some meetings or a conference with a little skiing on the side come winter.”
“That does sound like a tempting location. Been thinking about this for some time now?”
“Uh, just since Nick mentioned going someplace snowy for New Year’s Eve. Killing two birds with one stone.”
J.J. gave her a thumbs-up. “So, back on Thursday?”
Skye nodded.
J.J. looked at the clock. She knew that any more thought would drive her crazy. Her original notes were ready for the meeting; her ideas were solid. There was nothing more to do about it.
She sighed and let her mind wander back to the murder. She’d love to get the widow Marcotti in a one-on-one situation where maybe some confidences might be shared. She also realized how unrealistic that was. But maybe, with Ty Devine at her side, the widow might get more expansive. He did have a way about him, and besides, she was his client. J.J. was positive about that. But would Devine agree? He’d tried awfully hard at first not to admit to the connection. On the other hand, J.J. was certain that if he thought she would be messing with his client, he’d want to be right there keeping an eye on things.
She picked up the phone to call him.
Devine’s car was already parked in front of the Marcotti house when J.J. drove up. She hoped he hadn’t gone in without her. She was prepared to give him the evil eye when she got inside but inst
ead was pleasantly surprised to find him seated in the driver’s seat when she walked past his car.
He opened the door and she scooted to the side. “Thanks for agreeing to this.”
“I really didn’t have much choice. If I want to keep my client happy, I need to be here or who knows what she’ll assume after talking to you.” He locked his car and followed J.J. to the front door. “Besides, I might have a few questions for her myself.”
“Good.”
Shortly after he rang the bell, the door was opened by a scowling dark-haired older woman wearing a dark-striped apron over a black dress. Sturdy black clogs encased her feet. J.J. wondered if this was the mother-in-law, and if so, whose?
Devine spoke while J.J. pondered. “Mrs. Marcotti is expecting us.”
“Okay. You know the way.” She turned and left them to close the door and find the widow.
“Who is she?” J.J. whispered as she walked with him toward the back of the house. She tried to take in the large winding staircase and open foyer, the walls lined with miniature art statues. It looked different minus the two hundred guests who had milled around the last time J.J. had been there. It reminded her of the Portovino estate in size but not in taste.
“That’s their housekeeper. Not one for chitchat.”
J.J. dropped behind Devine as he opened the glass doors to a room that looked like a cross between a greenhouse and a bordello. Gina Marcotti sat on a chaise lounge of red velvet immediately across from them. Her curly dark hair was styled a bit differently this time, with a dramatic sweep across her forehead. She was wearing black lounging pants and a periwinkle blue top with long sleeves and a cowl neckline. When she held out her hand, J.J. could see that her arm was draped in bracelets. She didn’t stand up.
“Signor Devine. I’m so happy you’re taking the time to update me. But who is that with you?”
“It’s J.J. Tanner, the woman I mentioned.” He gave J.J. a small shove toward the chaise, but Gina had lowered her hand by that time.
“Sit. Would you like something to drink? I can offer you a cosmopolitan.” She held up her own glass and then took a long sip.
“No, I’m fine,” J.J. replied.
Devine just shook his head. “If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask you a few questions. It won’t take long and it should be a great help.”
“In tracking down the killer of my Tonio?”
“Yes.”
J.J. sat on a gold brocade slipper chair facing at a right angle to their hostess while Devine took the matching chair across from her. Since Gina seemed to be fixated on Devine and totally ignoring J.J., she took the opportunity to give the room a thorough sizing up. It was too over-the-top for her. She knew that Gina came from family wealth, but their designer must have been nouveau riche. Not that J.J. was a snob. She came from a modest home life, but in her previous job with a large advertising agency and in this business, she’d seen enough homes where taste and wealth went hand in hand. She wouldn’t dub this one as such.
She realized that Devine had said something to her. She looked at him and raised her eyebrows. He sighed and repeated what he’d said.
“J.J. happens to be the last person to see Antonio alive. Why don’t you tell Gina about it?”
“Yes, all right. It was after the Portovino party had ended and the kitchen was packed up. I left at the same time your husband did, and we had a few words out by my car. Then I left. I didn’t see anyone else in the vicinity.”
Gina looked directly at J.J. and narrowed her eyes. “What were you discussing? Did he try to get you to go to bed with him?”
“No!” J.J. gasped. She knew, though, that she shouldn’t have been surprised by the question. “Really. Nothing like that. In fact, we had an argument over his having slipped an extra high-priced dish onto the menu without my approval. I wasn’t going to pay the extra charge for it.”
Gina laughed, and J.J. was surprised by the lightness of the sound. Definitely the most pleasant thing about this woman. “That sounds like Tonio, all right. He has—had—a mind of his own, and you played it his way or not at all.”
J.J. nodded. “Exactly. May I ask why you hired Mr. Devine to follow him?”
Gina glanced at Devine, then shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. I knew he was having an affair. I’ve known about all of them. But he was spending more money on this one, so I wanted to find out who it was.”
“And do what?”
“Stop his bleeding my bank account, that’s what.”
“By killing him?”
Devine shook his head. Gina looked shocked and then started laughing again.
“Oh no. I would never do that. Despite all his failings, and I know he had many, we were well suited.”
“Really?”
Gina narrowed her eyes. “Yes, really. When he was with me, he was a devoted husband and he was great in the bedroom.”
“But it must have hurt to know he had other women on the side.” J.J. thought it best to take the straightforward approach.
“It did at first. That was many, many years ago. But I’ll tell you the solution to that. I started having my own lovers.”
J.J. gasped again. This woman was candid, if nothing else. “Did your husband know?”
“Probably, but we never discussed it. If we had, he would have had to ‘fess up’ himself or else make a big fuss about it. He knew that as long as he kept me happy and didn’t cause me any public embarrassment, everything was simpatico.”
“And yet you hired Devine. Was this the first time you’d hired a private eye?”
Gina finished her drink and went to fix another one at the bar tray beside the door. “No. The first time I had a suspicion that he was playing around, I did the same thing. That’s because I was so shocked and wanted to know for certain if it was true. Once I found out that it was, I made the decision to carry on with the marriage.”
“Would you have done anything to Candy Fleetwood?”
Gina smiled a Cheshire cat smile. “I was thinking about it but I hadn’t come to any grand ideas. And before you ask, I wouldn’t have killed her, either. I would have simply bought her off. She obviously was in it for the money.”
You don’t know Candy. “Can you think of anyone else who might have wanted to kill him?”
“Well, I think you had a good reason.”
J.J. gasped.
Gina smiled and carried on. “And so did anyone else in the same boat. He was not an honorable man in business, I know that. But I can’t think of anyone specific.”
“What about Rocco Gates?”
“Rocco?” Her voice rose a little. “It’s not likely. I know the police are very interested in him, but their feud was in the past. I think they just kept it going out of habit or maybe because they really didn’t know how to properly end it. You know, without either of them losing face. No, Rocco had no reason to kill Tonio. Have you come up with any leads, Mr. Devine?”
Devine looked surprised to be pulled back into the conversation. “A couple of names have come up. We’d heard that his head chef might be leaving and that there had been some arguments over that. Do you know anything about it?”
“Yes, it’s true. Tonio told me about an offer from some competitor downtown, and he was worried Kevin might take it—and worse yet, might take some kitchen secrets with him. Now that really got him angry. I know they had a very serious shouting match a couple of weeks ago, but I’m not sure what’s been happening lately.”
“Do you know Kevin Lonsdale very well? Do you think he could commit murder?” J.J. interjected.
Gina thought about it for a few seconds. “I really don’t know. It doesn’t seem like a powerful enough motive, though, does it? Killing over recipes?” She gave a sharp laugh.
“I guess, when you put it that way . . .”
“We also have reason
to believe that the local councilor, Don Kelland, had been at loggerheads with your husband,” Devine said, watching his client’s face.
“Yes. Tonio had been angry with him for a long time over zoning issues, but he was about to fix all that by running against him in the next election. And you know, with the Italian community and my money behind him, he would have won. Now, does that make Mr. Kelland a murderer? I don’t know. Do you?”
“I’ll find out.”
Devine waited a beat and then looked over at J.J., who gave a small nod. “We’ll be leaving, then.”
J.J. stood and suddenly asked, “Are you having an affair right now?”
Gina drew herself up. “I don’t think I’ll answer that.”
“But don’t you see? This guy could be the killer, wanting to get your husband out of the way so that he could marry you.”
Gina blanched. “He wouldn’t do such a thing.” Her voice was steely as she bid them good-bye.
They were walking toward the car when J.J. asked Devine, “Why didn’t you pursue the question about her lover? It sounds like she is still in an affair. We need to know who the guy is.”
“I didn’t ask because I know and I’m not going to tell you.”
“Why not? I thought we were in this together?”
“Really? At the most, we’re helping each other by sharing leads. Now, let it drop, J.J. The man is not the murderer. Now, do you have anything else to tell me?”
“No.” Two can play this game.
She stewed about their conversation all the way back, and by the time she walked up the stairs to her office, she was more determined than ever to find out the name of the mystery lover. She had her hand on the doorknob when a thought struck her: what if it was Ty Devine?
CHAPTER 28
Later that night, she knocked on Ness Harper’s door. In one hand, her excuse: a plate of profiteroles. What she really wanted was a sounding board and another take on where the case was going. He answered on the first knock.
