Bad to the Bone

by Linda O. Johnston

  All three men, clad in dark suits and serious demeanors, stood. “Hi, Carrie,” Jack said. “I’d like you to meet Fitzgerald Jagit, our CEO, and Marv Langwell, our Products Vice President.”

  Marv. The guy Wanda had been had involved with. I held out my hand to him first. He looked like an executive, with a smoothly shaved face and smooth demeanor, too—the way he shot me a quick smile and curious gaze with narrowed blue eyes. “Ah, we meet at last, Carrie. Jack has been telling me about your dog treat bakery and your excellent, healthy recipes for months.”

  So, in addition to being high enough in the chain of command to have captured Wanda’s attention, he was probably the one who’d expressed interest in VimPets buying one or more of those recipes.

  After trading a firm handshake with Marv, I turned to Fitzgerald. He was older and stouter and not nearly as smooth. His silver mustache matched his wavy hair, which was now blowing in the slight breeze from the lake. But he shook hands just as firmly, and the way he examined my face suggested he wanted to peek inside and read my brain—maybe even extract some of my recipes that way.

  “Are you joining us for dinner?” That was Jack, and when I glanced at him, I read, possibly mistakenly, a plea on his face. He’d looked stressed now and then recently, presumably because he was a murder suspect, but now the stress appeared to be etching lots of extra lines on a face that I’d considered much better looking before this last week

  or so.

  “I guess I could.” I glanced at the other men, trying to read how they felt about the idea. Fitzgerald glowered, but Marv had a large, welcoming smile on his face.

  Did he consider me a possible successor to Wanda on his seduction list? Of course, that presumed he seduced her, or thought he did, rather than her being the seductress.

  Either way, a motive to kill her might exist, although I wasn’t certain what it was. The seduction angle? Because she might not have glommed solely onto him? And how had Jack fit into all this?

  I was just reaching for answers.

  “Then please join us.” Marv stood and, by his expression, encouraged the others to rise too so he could rearrange the chairs.

  I was soon seated beside Marv at the longer end of the table, facing the lake. Jack was on my right side, and Fitzgerald sat across the table from him.

  I noticed that all three men had drinks in front of them, maybe scotch and sodas. When the server immediately came over—a guy I’d seen here before but never met—I ordered a glass of merlot.

  I wondered if these gentlemen would pay for my meal—or, rather, VimPets would. I supposed that might depend on whether we talked business. I was willing to discuss recipes, but that remained far from the main reason I was there.

  Before I could start on that subject, though, Neal came over to the table and stood behind Jack. “Hi, everyone. I’m Carrie’s brother, and I work at the resort. I just wanted to say hi to her and to Jack, and also welcome the rest of you to the restaurant. You’re staying at the resort, aren’t you?” He looked at Marv and then at Fitzgerald. “I was the one who checked you in.”

  “That’s right,” Fitzgerald said. “Thank you for the welcome.” He drew his shuttered gaze away from Neal and onto Jack, as if he had said all he intended to.

  Not wanting to irritate the guy enough to make him unhappy even before I started delving into the topic of Wanda, I said, “Hi, Neal. Thanks for stopping over here. I’ll talk to you later.”

  The order encompassed in my gaze apparently worked, since my brother said “Great” and walked away.

  My wine arrived then, and I learned that the men had already given their dinner orders. I ordered one of my usuals, a Cobb salad.

  I glanced around. The tables around us remained occupied. Even the patio was busy this evening.

  So was my mind. I looked first at Fitzgerald and then at Marv. “I didn’t know I would get this opportunity,” I began, “but I would like to offer my condolences on the loss of your employee Wanda Addler. I met her here, and I’m sure the situation is very difficult for you.”

  The pleasant and, yes, seductive expression on Marv’s face faded. Just because of the reminder of Wanda—or was he thinking something else? Something like he didn’t want to discuss how he’d murdered her?

  “Yes,” Fitzgerald said from beside him, his tone serious but with a hint of drollness. “It’s always difficult to lose an employee that way. They come and go, of course, but it’s very rare that the reason for their departure is death rather than firing.”

  I felt my eyes widen as I looked at him, but his expression remained serious.

  “Of course,” I said. “I know she was eager to move up in your company. She and I talked about my possibly selling recipes to you, as Jack had suggested.”

  My gaze was now on Marv. He didn’t respond at first, but as I continued looking at him, he said, “Yes, Wanda was an asset to our company and we looked forward to her growing within it. We’ll miss her.”

  A very nice, very professional thing to say, I supposed. I wanted to ask Marv directly, And how much will you miss her? But I didn’t.

  After that, I wasn’t sure how to keep pushing about Wanda other than to ask my tablemates which one killed her, but I didn’t think that would go over well. Instead, all three seemed inclined to push me a bit about the recipes.

  I described what Jack already knew about the ones I’d developed as a veterinary technician, how I’d told him I’d consider creating another recipe or two just for VimPets along the same lines, and that kind of thing.

  By the time our food arrived, I was already tired of the conversation. I’d promised I’d still think about the possible recipe sale, then sat back while the three started talking among themselves. Some of it was about Jack and his prior and future travels on behalf of the company. He seemed to have relaxed, despite his stressed manner earlier. When the three men talked about other stuff, I started tuning them out.

  At one point, though, Fitzgerald brought Wanda up again, and my attention once more perked up.

  “We’ll only be staying here through tomorrow, Jack,” he said. “I assume you’ll be back in LA soon. I know Wanda was acting more or less as your assistant and that you’ll need someone else. Have you met again with that woman you mentioned a few weeks ago? I know you said she’s from this area.”

  “I didn’t want to bring up the job with her again until we’d discussed it internally,” Jack responded. “She seemed interested, but I wanted to get your opinion on it before I followed up with her.”

  “Well, she’s certainly one possibility,” Fitzgerald said. “Maybe we could meet her in person before we leave town.”

  “I think you can meet her right now,” Jack replied. “She works here, at this restaurant.”

  Really? Interesting. My brother probably knew her.

  “Well, sure. Bring her over,” Marv said.

  Jack rose and headed to the restaurant door. In a few minutes, he returned.

  Gwen was with him.

  Skirting the other diners, she walked to the table with him, looking a little uncomfortable.

  So she and Jack had talked about her going to work for VimPets?

  That evening, Gwen was dressed as she often was, in a skirt and blouse and coppery pinecone necklace. She glanced at me, smiled slightly, and then looked away.

  “Everyone, this is Gwen Orway. Gwen, these are some of the VimPets people I told you about before.”

  I’d thought Gwen liked her job at the resort. On the other hand, she might want something more exciting—and lucrative—than being a restaurant server forever. Plus, she’d broken off whatever she’d had with Neal partly because she had another romantic interest somewhere down the mountains. Maybe she wanted to live closer to him and this would be a good thing for her.

  “Hello, Gwen,” Marv said.

  “Can you join us for a min
ute?” Fitzgerald turned his head as if looking for another chair.

  “Sorry,” Gwen said. “I’m on duty now. And … well, although I like the position and appreciate that Jack talked to me about coming to work for VimPets, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided I’d rather stay here, at least for now. Thanks for thinking of me, though.” She aimed a small smile at Jack, who still stood beside her, and then toward each of the men at the table.

  Gwen looked at me, too, gave a shrug, and sucked her mouth in a little, appearing even more embarrassed.

  “I’m sure your server is taking good care of you, and I’d better get back to work,” she continued. “Thanks again.” She raised one hand in a wave and let it trail behind her as she left.

  “Too bad,” Jack said, watching after her. I wondered if Gwen had been one of the many women he flirted with. That might have inspired her to think about taking a job with his company. Or not.

  In any event, I dug into my salad with a little more gusto so I could finish it quickly. The men, too, began eating and talking again—not really mentioning Gwen’s departure.

  And what about the potential guilt of either of these two executives in Wanda’s murder?

  I got a sudden inspiration as to what might help me figure it out. At a lull in their conversation, I said, “I know you’re both aware of how Jack has come to Knobcone Heights frequently to promote VimPets products and discuss the recipes with me. He’s brought other colleagues at various times, but I don’t recall meeting either of you. Have you been to this area before?”

  “I intended to come up sometime before this,” Fitzgerald responded, taking a bite of his roast beef sandwich. “It sounded like an enjoyable place for sightseers. I’m sorry to say that the thing that finally brought me here was my promise to the local cops that I would come talk with them, and bring Marv as well.”

  “I’ve been here before,” Marv said, and my attention perked up once more. “Quite a while ago, though. I wouldn’t mind coming back to sightsee, maybe bring my dogs and give them some of your store’s special biscuits.”

  Okay, so Marv had been here. He claimed it was long ago. How about last week?

  But I couldn’t easily ask him that. I merely said, “If you come to my Barkery tomorrow, I’ll give you a sample for your pets. What kinds of dogs do you have?”

  They were pit bull mixes, he said. He appreciated the offer.

  And then I added, “What time of year were you here? When it was as chilly as this?”

  “Yes,” he said. “It was around this time of year.” He nodded, smiling at me.

  Which left me wondering, again, about where he was last week.

  Too bad I hadn’t become skilled at mind reading.

  Twenty-Five

  Gentlemen that they were, or at least appeared to be, the VimPets execs did pay for my dinner. That earned them a point or two in my estimation but didn’t remove them, or at least Marv, from my consideration as suspects in Wanda’s murder.

  Unfortunately, Jack remained on that list, too.

  Fitzgerald—whom I didn’t really suspect—handled the bill, and I hung out with the others inside, in the cash register area near the restaurant door.

  Gwen stood nearby, taking orders at a table where half a dozen seniors sat. She noticed us and gave a small wave before appearing to concentrate again on their requests.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at your Barkery,” Marv said as we waited for Fitzgerald.

  “Great,” I said. “As I said, I’ll be glad to give you a few sample treats for your dogs.”

  “Thanks. I’ll buy some, too. I plan to come back to town soon, by the way. My appetite has been whetted, and not just for dog biscuits. I want to explore Knobcone Heights some more.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “And if you like hiking, come with me right now. I’m going to talk to my brother before I leave, and he hosts tours of the area. He’s going to lead one sometime this weekend, I think.”

  “Love the idea. He’s the one who said hi to you before?”

  “That’s him. His hikes are great. You should definitely try one out when you’re in town. I’m hoping to go on one of the upcoming ones.”

  Fitzgerald got his credit card and receipt, and we all walked out of the restaurant. We exchanged goodbyes and I told them I’d be in touch with Jack about the recipe idea soon.

  “We’ll wait for you in the bar,” Fitzgerald said after Marv explained he wanted to talk to my brother about a hike.

  Marv and I went to the registration desk. Though it was late, Neal still sat there, despite there being two other employees present. He might have been waiting to talk to me, but that needed to be put temporarily on hold; I explained that Marv wanted to discuss upcoming hikes with him.

  Neal said he’d just decided that his next hike would be on Saturday morning, starting near the lake and going up into the adjoining mountains—one of the pre-Halloween adventures he’d been considering, since the holiday was a week later. Those who hiked with him then would not be trick-or-treating, as he’d decided his Halloween night followers could, but they’d get to see some amazing views of the area.

  “Sounds like fun,” I said.

  “You want to come, too?” he asked. “You know you’re always welcome, sis.”

  “Thanks. I’ll try.”

  Neal proceeded to give Marv the details of the date, time, and cost while I continued to stand there. Were we being too nice to the person who’d killed Wanda?

  Unfortunately, I still didn’t know. But if nothing else, maybe the hike would somehow provide me with a way to find out.

  I said goodbye to Marv, then told Neal I’d see him at home soon. He agreed, so he probably wasn’t getting together with Janelle any more than I was seeing Reed that evening.

  Before leaving, I headed to the restroom. The facility was a little crowded, but I found a stall quickly. As I finished and washed my hands, Gwen came in. She looked tired, but she seemed to perk up as she saw me.

  She also looked around as if seeking someone who might be there, who I suspected was Elise, or perhaps her more direct supervisor at the restaurant. “I hope you understand that I was just considering my options and future and all, when I told Jack I might be interested in a job,” she said. “And I don’t really want word to get out about it.”

  “I’m sure Jack seduced you into it,” I said with a smile, “like he tried to seduce me into selling him some dog treat recipes. Or at least that’s what I’ll say if anyone asks me, and I won’t bring it up.”

  “Well … yes, that’s kind of how it was at the time. But—” She hesitated, then changed the subject, at least somewhat. “Did I hear right, that Neal’s leading one of his hikes this weekend?”

  “Yes. Are you interested?” I hoped she would interpret my question the right way: interested in the hikes, not Neal.

  She headed toward an open stall. “Not sure. But thanks for asking.”

  “See you there,” I called, “or here.” Then I left.

  I hurried home and was walking Biscuit in front of my house when Neal returned, too. He pulled his car down the driveway, opened the garage door with his remote button, and pulled in. In a few minutes, he’d closed the door and joined us.

  “So how did your dinner go?” he asked. “I assume that was all about trying to determine another murder suspect, right?”

  “They knew Wanda,” I agreed, nodding. “She worked for them and, as you know, had apparently been trying to outshine Jack.”

  Biscuit finished her sniffing and we all headed toward the unlocked front door, the way my pup and I had exited the house.

  “Did you learn anything?” Neal opened the door, and Biscuit and I walked inside.

  “Not really. I was already aware that the younger guy, Marv, knew Wanda. The senior executive apparently did too, but maybe not as well. Marv has vi
sited Knobcone Heights before, so he knows his way around, but I didn’t hear anything that suggested he was here last week. That’s not to say he wasn’t, though.”

  We’d reached the kitchen and both got glasses of ice water from the refrigerator door, then adjourned to the living room, Biscuit at our feet. Neal turned on the television and found a news station, but put it on mute as we both sat on the sofa looking at each other.

  “So what’s next?” he asked. “I assume from what you’ve told me that the cops might actually be right this time. The killer is most likely to be Jack Loroco—or even Billi Matlock.” He frowned a little, tilting his head. “Or do you still think it could be Harris or Elise?”

  “I wish I knew,” I said, shaking my head. “Jack seemed to know Wanda best of any of those people, and she was trying to get him fired. He’d been working hard, from what I gathered. He kept trying to get me to sell him some recipes with a veterinary technician’s twist to them, but then Wanda butted in and tried to usurp my business relationship with him. Not that my treats were hugely special, or that he couldn’t have found another vet tech somewhere who was also developing recipes for special treats.”

  “Hey, yours are extra special, sis.” My nice-looking brother aimed a huge and contagious smile at me. “You’ve got the Barkery and its increasing business to prove it.”

  I could only smile back. “Thanks. I just wish I understood better what Jack was going through. I know Wanda was rough on him and that he could have wanted her ousted from the company. And—”

  I suddenly stopped as a completely absurd new idea came to me.

  Whoever killed Wanda might have wanted to silence her. I already had some suspects in mind, such as the VimPets exec who’d been seduced by Wanda and perhaps wanted to shut her up. Or maybe he hadn’t yet given in and wanted to oust her before he succumbed. This meant that maybe one of the two men I’d just met had killed her. And there were potentially others in the company who could also have had reason to silence Wanda.

  But one other person in particular came to mind at that moment, as ridiculous as it seemed.