by Linda Wiken
Alison drew herself up from her slouching. “No, I never took his name.”
“Hah!”
“For professional reasons.”
They all watched as Jessica started crying. “You ruined my life, you know.”
“I ruined your life?”
J.J. could see that the real Alison had rejoined the scene and was building up to something, so she stepped in. “This really is strange, your coming here. Do the police know?”
Brad Patterson shrugged. “They didn’t say not to. Jessica was curious. We both were. That’s understandable, isn’t it?”
He sounded sincere but J.J. wasn’t quite sure what to think. She still thought it was insensitive and wished he had stopped his sister from just dropping in.
Evan walked over to Alison and slipped his arm around her waist. “I’m sure Alison is just as curious about you, and possibly feels much the same, but would never accuse you of ruining her life.”
“Not only my life,” Jessica said between sobs, “but Jeffrey’s as well. You killed him, didn’t you? When you knew you couldn’t have him anymore, you couldn’t stand it. He was found in your car. You’re a murderer.”
Alison stood with her mouth open. “I did not. In fact, you’re as likely a suspect as I am.”
“Me? You witch, don’t you try to pin this on me!”
“I think it’s best if you leave,” J.J. said, trying hard not to give the woman a good slap.
“You’re probably right,” Brad agreed. He put his arm around Jessica’s shoulders and steered her toward the front door. With his other hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, which he gave to J.J.
“In case you want to talk about this some more,” he said in a low voice. His hand skimmed the back of hers as she took his card.
She glanced at it and then up at him. He must be at least six foot five, she thought. Hm, tall, handsome in a magazine model kind of way, and deep brown eyes. The exact opposite of Devine. Not that she was comparing.
“Now I’m frigging mad,” Alison said after she’d closed the front door. “She thinks she can burst in here and accuse me. I was the first wife. I’m the one who was wronged.” She stomped into the kitchen. “What a jerk he was. I am so mad at him. If he were still alive, he wouldn’t be for long.”
She stopped, apparently realizing what she’d said, and then burst out into laughter. It was hard not to join in, and soon both J.J. and Evan were as loud as Alison. But they realized she couldn’t stop. Her laughter had become hysterical.
Evan put his arms around her, trying to calm her. J.J. pulled the bottle of scotch out of the kitchen cupboard. She knew where it was kept. She poured a small amount and gave it to Alison once she’d calmed down a bit. Alison downed it all at once.
“Sorry about that, guys.” Alison looked from Evan to J.J. “But I am mad.”
*
• • •
J.J. found it hard to concentrate on her work after they got back to the office, although she did manage to log a lot of work hours in. She reread and e-mailed the final report on the Vermont Primary Teachers Association conference, the one she’d forgotten to e-mail the day before; made a final decision on the caterer for the dance studio event; and went over her previous day’s meeting with bride Trish Tesher, aka the fussbudget, with Skye.
While she and the bride were on track with the venue and caterer, it was the smaller, niggly details that J.J. had to play catch-up on. She’d itemized her to-do list. It was all a matter of organization. She’d done this hundreds of times. Different occasions, different needs, same skill set. She could handle it. Yes, she could.
By the end of the day she was too exhausted to think of cooking and was delighted when Devine stopped by, apologized for not calling back, and invited her out to dinner. A half hour later they were seated next to the main window at Bella Luna, sipping their drinks: an Estate Baco Noir wine for J.J., Glenfiddich scotch on the rocks for Devine. She looked around for owner Gina Marcotti and felt a bit disappointed not to see her.
“Are you looking for Gina?”
J.J. nodded. “I haven’t talked to her in a while. It would be nice to say hi.”
“Not tonight, I’m afraid. I already asked and she’s actually taken the night off.”
Really? J.J. wondered if Gina and Rocco had a hot date. He hadn’t mentioned anything when she’d been at his restaurant, but of course, it really was none of her business. Instead, she filled Devine in on what Alison had told her.
“Bigamy! That’s got to be hard on a woman’s ego,” he replied.
“Don’t add that it makes Alison a more likely suspect, please.”
“I won’t say it out loud but I am thinking it. But of course, it also puts the other wife in the same frame.”
J.J. smiled. “I’m so happy to hear you say that.”
She took another sip and then filled Devine in on what had happened at Alison’s earlier in the day.
“Well? You don’t seem shocked,” she finally said after waiting for a response.
“I’m not. I can understand the woman wanting to get a look at Alison. In fact, I’m surprised Alison didn’t beat her to it. And, I can also understand her blaming Alison for everything. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Lash out when you’re hurting?”
J.J. took a deep breath. “I guess you’re right but you’re not supposed to take Jessica’s side in this.”
“I’m not taking any side. Well, I guess I am on Alison’s side, but I’m just saying, there’s a reason the other woman acted like that. It doesn’t make it right. And, I can imagine how hard that was on Alison. And you, as her good friend, are shocked and hurting for her.”
“Well, I am. Although when I stop and think about it, Jessica is not at all what I expected.”
“How so?”
“Oh, you know, I had visions of this real sexy, man-stealing woman, but that’s not what I saw.”
“So, tell me about her.”
“She was totally different from Alison, in appearance anyway. I don’t know her well enough to judge about personality. Is that something that bigamists do, do you think? For whatever reason, they choose someone totally different? Maybe for the excitement of it or maybe they’re just not happy with their previous choice. Although, I’d never say that to Alison.”
Devine chuckled. “Good thinking. I have no idea how this works, but if he’d already decided he was leaving Alison, then he’s not your typical bigamist. They usually manage to keep the two relationships going at the same time for quite a while.”
“Well, we do know he so-called married Jessica while he was still living with Alison. But maybe you’re right, he’d already decided in his mind that they were splitting. It doesn’t excuse the fact that he cheated on her. On both of them, I guess. Man, what a mess.”
She watched Devine as he finished his drink. Was bigamy something he could ever do? She didn’t think she knew him well enough to decide, but yet, does one ever know? Isn’t that why the first wife gets blindsided? What a depressing thought.
“I think you’re letting this get to you. An effective investigator is able to pull themselves out of the picture and observe. And whatever you do, don’t take the details of a case to heart and make it a guidebook for how to run your life.”
Can he actually read my mind?
She shook her head. “I guess it’s just the fact that I’ve never known anyone involved in something like this before. And also, I feel so badly for Alison.”
She picked up a menu and stared at it, not really focusing on the items. “You know, he used the name Jeffrey Bailey in that life. And his wife’s name—make that wife number two—is Jessica. Bailey. Same last name.”
“It often is,” Devine said with a small chuckle.
She made a face. “I got sort of busy when I went back to work so I forgot to try looking her up on the Internet.”
Devine pulled out his BlackBerry. “Now is as good a time as any.” He gave her a smoky look.
“Since this is just a business dinner.”
J.J. shrugged. Of course it is. She focused on the menu, reading each line slowly and trying to imagine how each dish would taste. Aglio e olio. That’s what she’d have. She’d been wanting to taste something with gremolata, another term that was unfamiliar to her, and this sounded like a tasty test. She looked back up at Devine, who was watching her.
“I thought you were researching Jessica Bailey.”
“I found her,” he admitted. “There’s not much that stands out. She does state she’d married, and she’s an illustrator of children’s books. All very interesting, but what I do find more interesting is watching you read a menu. You know your eyes actually light up when you hit on something you want to try?”
“I’m assuming that’s a good thing for someone who belongs to a dinner club.”
“I’d say it is.” He slid his phone over to J.J. “Here, take a look.”
J.J. went straight to Jessica Bailey’s Facebook page and although she couldn’t see too much of it, not being a friend, she did have to agree with Devine that it sounded like Jessica led a very straightforward, even calm life. She listed herself as a wife, illustrator, and quilter living in Rouses Point, New York.
After their server had taken their orders, J.J. said, “She sounds totally opposite from Alison, who has a dynamic job, is independent, and puts herself out there.”
“I’ve never handled a case with a bigamist involved, but I believe they thrive on an adrenaline fix of switching between the two lives. But maybe it’s easier if the women are totally different so there’s less chance of him slipping up in some way.”
J.J. nibbled at a slice of bread from the small loaf and olive oil mix dish that had just been served. “I’d think it would be terribly exhausting.”
Devine grinned. “I take it bigamy is off your list of things to try?”
“Funny, you never hear about female bigamists, or at least I haven’t heard about any.”
“I’m sure it’s an equal opportunity crime.” Devine dipped his own slice of loaf into the olive oil and slowly chewed.
“But how does it happen? How can he pull it off without being discovered? Surely there are official records and all sorts of legalities that would make it almost impossible to do.”
“This isn’t something new, J.J. It’s been going on a long time. The smart ones figure out how to skirt those issues, until they’re caught. Living in two different states probably made it a lot easier.”
J.J. thought about that a minute. “We need to go and talk to Jessica Bailey.”
“Agreed. But we’ll need more information on James Bailey before we go. Jeffrey Bailey, too. What?”
J.J. had a Cheshire smile on her face. “I can’t believe you’ve agreed without an argument.”
“Well, I know by now when not to waste my breath, and since I did agree to help you …” Devine grinned as he moved his bread dish to the side to make room for his plate of shrimp scampi that arrived. J.J. waited until her spaghetti with gremolata had been served and then held up her wineglass in a toast.
“To a quick resolution.”
Devine snickered, holding up his empty glass. “Dreamer.”
CHAPTER 7
J.J. felt guilty about not sharing Alison’s news with Beth and Connor before having told Devine. They were all Alison’s friends, after all, and had been through other murder investigations together. As soon as she got home, she phoned them, including Evan, and asked if they could meet at Cups ’n’ Roses for lunch the next day, so that Connor could join them after his morning shift on the radio.
When she arrived, Evan had already grabbed their usual booth, and Beth soon joined them, a latte for J.J. in one hand and her own mug in the other. Before J.J. had a chance to take her first sip, Connor joined them.
“So, what did Alison say?” Beth asked. “I’ve been thinking the worst all morning. That was really leaving us high and dry, J.J.”
“I’m sorry. I know. I could have told you last night on the phone but it seemed better to say it once and discuss it together. Anyway, Devine and I talked it over and he’s going to help us.”
“Do what?” Connor asked.
“Why, find the killer, that’s what.”
“Uh, is this what Alison wanted?”
“Not in so many words.” She filled them in on all that she and Evan had learned the day before and watched while the shock spread over Beth’s and Connor’s faces.
“What a bastard,” Connor said, his hands gripping his mug tightly. “How long were they married?”
“I think two years, maybe three,” Beth volunteered. “The poor kid. I can’t believe he’d do that to her. She must be devastated to learn this so soon after finding his body.”
“That’s double trouble,” Evan stated. “And having his other wife flat out accuse you of murder is not something I’d like to go through.”
J.J. nodded. “Unfortunately, it really gives her a motive. However, it also gives his other wife, Jessica, a motive, and what better way to get even than to plant the body in Alison’s car?”
“Yeah. Alison is a cop and too smart to leave the body there. Not that she’d kill him to start with,” Connor added hastily.
“But we’d have to prove Jessica knew about Alison for that to make sense. And from what we saw yesterday, Jessica looked truly blindsided and upset.”
Evan nodded. “I agree. So, unless she’s an amazing actress, I don’t think she did it.”
Nobody said anything for a few minutes as they absorbed the information. Finally, Beth asked what they all wanted for lunch. “I should get the meals going if you’re all going to get back to work in time.”
They all ordered the special of the day—avocado with chicken and lime soup—without much thought and went back to sipping coffee in silence.
“What can we do to help?” Connor finally asked.
J.J. frowned. “I’m not really certain at this point. But it’s a dangerous game. And I would think he’d always have to be so careful not to slip up. I wonder why anyone would even try it.”
“There must be a payback, some element of excitement,” Connor suggested. “Maybe it’s an addiction to living on the edge.”
“Devine thought something the same.”
Beth smiled.
What?
Their meals arrived and that took their attention for a few minutes, until first tastes were enjoyed. J.J. picked up the thread of conversation.
“I actually can’t think of anything more at this point. We need more information first but I think it’s mainly important to be there for Alison. Her aunt Pam is formidable, so calling Alison takes perseverance.”
“How about if we take her out to dinner this weekend?” Connor suggested.
“Or better yet, a home-cooked meal,” Beth voiced, “at my place.”
“Or mine,” J.J. heard herself volunteer.
“You’re on,” Beth answered. “Let me know if I can bring anything.”
“Although it’s a long time to wait until this weekend. How about tomorrow night?”
“In other words, to try to get more information out of her and solve this case?” Connor asked. J.J. wasn’t quite sure what the tone of his voice meant. Did he disapprove?
She straightened in her chair. “We can do both. Of course, it’s important to show her support and help her feel better, but we also need to help catch the killer and get her off the hook. How can we do that if we don’t have more information?” She looked from one face to another.
Evan shrugged. “I think J.J. is right, and if Alison decides to shut us down, like she’s done with all our other investigating, then at least we’re all together and can just talk or whatever.”
J.J. nodded. Precisely.
Connor left the table and headed to the counter. They all watched as he picked out four macarons and returned with them on a plate.
“My treat. This plotting takes energy.” He sat down and passed the plate around. �
��I’m in, J.J. I was only asking. So, tell us more about this aunt.”
“She and her husband raised Alison after her parents were killed in a train accident when she was seven. The aunt and Alison’s mother were sisters. From what Alison says, the aunt is overprotective, which is understandable, I guess. She’ll be staying with Alison for a while.” She took a bite of the macaron and moaned. “This is so good.”
“Glad you like it,” Beth said. “I’m glad to hear the aunt is staying. Alison never talked about any family so I’m glad there’s someone to be with her. The question is, do we invite her along to the dinner?”
*
• • •
J.J. hesitated before picking up the phone to call Alison, then she braced herself for trying to get past the gatekeeper, Aunt Pam. It took at least two minutes of convincing before Alison came on the line. She readily agreed to the dinner, and seemed genuinely pleased when J.J. invited Pam to come along.
Having at least one plan of action finalized, J.J. spent the rest of the afternoon working on the latest requests from her clients for the Franklin Dance Studio event. Even though she thought they’d more or less signed off on the details, the clients seemed to have another one or two suggestions to add each week. J.J.’s biggest problem was trying to keep their enthusiasm within their budget.
She’d been delighted when the owners had offered her free dance classes but hurriedly backtracked when they explained it was so she could take part in the salsa and tango demonstrations that were part of the program for after dinner. By no stretch of the imagination could she be ready to perform—in front of dance aficionados, no less—with fewer than ten years of training.
The thought did make her smile, though, as she went online to see if it might indeed be possible to rent a fog machine, one that could contain the emissions to within two feet off the ground. The Franklins, Josie and Josh, wanted to do their dance demonstration in a thrall of romance and they thought fog would do the trick.
She’d never had to track down a fog machine before but trusted the Internet to come up with the answer. She glanced at the clock: 5:10. She decided that the answer could wait until tomorrow and whatever it was, she’d make sure her client was happy. Now, if only she could come up with a menu to make her guests happy tomorrow night. Well, she’d settle for satisfied.
