Murder at the Waterfront: A Northwest Cozy Mystery (Northwest Cozy Mystery Series Book 7)

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Murder at the Waterfront: A Northwest Cozy Mystery (Northwest Cozy Mystery Series Book 7) Page 6

by Dianne Harman


  Al squeezed Cassie’s hand.

  “I certainly am,” Cassie said, smiling up at Al, whose grin matched hers. “We both are.”

  They wandered back into the hallway, Cassie stopping to greet various people as they mingled with the other guests.

  “Who were they?” Al asked her.

  “Just people I know through work.” As the food columnist for The Seattle Times, Cassie recognized several leading journalists at the party, as well as prominent figures from some of Seattle’s largest companies, including Amazon and Microsoft. She squinted at a bald man with his back to them. “The guest list is something else. Briana sent some of the invites by drone. It looks like Jeff Bezos was impressed, because he’s standing right over there.”

  The mood was upbeat and the conversation was loud. Raised voices were necessary due to the jazz music being played by a professional pianist on the grand piano in the corner.

  “I wonder where Briana is,” Cassie said. “And you can take your head out of that brochure. We’re not buying a condo in Seattle.”

  Al’s face fell. “Why not? It would be a good investment.”

  “I just want a simple life, that’s why,” Cassie said gently. “We have a lovely home on Bainbridge Island. I like the easy pace of puttering around in the garden and taking Red for walks on the beach. We don’t need more...stuff. Don’t forget you’ve still got your place in the Caymans that we never use.”

  Al grunted. “Don’t look now. Six-o-clock,” he hissed, ducking his head.

  Cassie turned in the direction Al had indicated, where a glamorous woman in a white clingy dress was heading towards them. The woman was followed by a suave-looking man with continental features, dressed in a perfectly cut suit that screamed expensive from fifty feet away.

  “Al,” the woman in white squealed, her blond hairdo bouncing on her shoulders as she wiggled across the room, grabbing him in an amorous hug. Al froze and kept his arms at his sides until she freed him.

  “Kitten,” he mumbled. “Long time no see.”

  Cassie looked on as Kitten swung around to face her. “You must be Cathie, Al’s new wife, right?”

  “It’s Cassie,” she said, extending her hand. Al moved a step closer beside her.

  Kitten gave Cassie a firm handshake before taking a step back. “Look at you two, you’re so cute together. I hope we can be friends, Cassie. I’m not sure what he’s told you, but Al and I go way back.”

  “He’s told me everything.” Looking at Kitten, with her perfect figure, sexy dress, and high heels, it was easy to see why men found Kitten so attractive. What Cassie also saw was a woman with genuine warmth in her eyes, and she decided to reserve judgment. If Kitten had been someone who was an important feature in Al’s past, she must have some good qualities for him to have once been fond of her.

  “This is my husband, Mario,” Kitten went on, introducing the man in the suit. “Al, I think you two already know each other?”

  Mario smiled and shook Cassie’s hand, before turning to Al. There was an awkward pause while Al regarded Mario with suspicion before accepting his handshake. “Mario,” was all Al said, with a curt nod.

  “It’s been a long time, Al.” Mario had an easy manner that set Cassie at ease. Looking at Kitten and her husband, they not only made a handsome couple, but had a realness about them that was refreshing. The room was filled with people who were busy schmoozing and being seen, whereas Kitten and Mario appeared relaxed and looked as if they were thoroughly enjoying themselves.

  “The penthouse is gorgeous,” Cassie said to Mario. “You’ve done a great job on the building. Do you live here?”

  Mario shook his head. “Not at the moment, although this penthouse belongs to Kitten. It was a gift from me to her before we got married. We’re using it as a showpiece for now. Kitten’s sister, Maureen, lives downstairs, so we’ll probably spend a lot of time here in future. Kitten and Maureen are very close.”

  Kitten pouted. “Well, you’re at work all the time, so I need the company.”

  Mario rolled his eyes, before addressing Cassie. “I have a lot to thank your daughter for, Cassie. Briana’s got a great eye for design. She’s nailed it here, and don’t think I don’t know how lucky we were to get her on board for this development. I suspect before long we won’t be able to afford her services. She deserves all the success coming her way.”

  Al raised his glass. “Wisest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Mario. To Briana.”

  “To Briana,” they all said in unison.

  Mario cleared his throat, and Kitten spoke up. “Cassie, why don’t we go find Briana, and leave the men alone. I’m sure they’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

  Cassie exchanged a look with Al, who nodded, and she allowed herself to be led away by Kitten.

  “Look, there’s my sister Maureen,” Kitten said, pointing towards a pretty brunette in a black dress. “Come and say hello.”

  Once Kitten and Maureen started gossiping, Cassie thought she was never going to get away. The two women could not have been friendlier to her, but Cassie wasn’t too interested in their conversation about which guests at the party had slept with whom, or whether such-and-such a person’s Gucci purse was a fake.

  She glanced across the room at Al, who was still talking intently to Mario, and was glad when a chef’s helper passed around trays of hors d’oeuvres. She was happy to join Kitten and Maureen in their oohs and aahs of delight, in particular over a mini-quiche with pancetta, parmesan and pepper.

  “These are yummy,” she smiled, helping herself to another, making a mental note to tell her friend DeeDee about them. She’d spoken to DeeDee a few days earlier to make sure Balto had arrived safely in Connecticut, and DeeDee had told her she and Jake might be staying on the East coast for a while. Apparently, since she missed the catering business she’d started when she moved to Bainbridge Island, DeeDee was thinking about taking on some small catering jobs in Hartford.

  Kitten and Maureen were still nearby, but Cassie was pleased when Al approached with a tentative smile on his face. He steered her way from the others, so they could have some privacy.

  “What was that all about?” she asked him.

  Al rubbed his chin. “Ima gonna’ tell ya’, that was a big surprise. I wouldn’a believed it myself, ‘cept I was there. Mario an’ me jes’ buried the hatchet.”

  Cassie raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you were sworn enemies. You didn’t just buy a condo from him, did you?”

  “Nah, I was gonna buy a couple,” Al said, wrinkling his nose as he grabbed a caviar blini from one of the waiters passing with a platter of mouth-watering food. “No need to give me that look,” he said, with his mouth full. “Ima kiddin’.”

  “You’d better be. What happened with Mario?”

  “We was sayin’, you know, how our lives have changed so much. Mario said he’s moved on from hatin’ me for stuff that happened a lifetime ago. The things we were involved in then, let’s just say they weren’t very pretty.” Al paused for a few moments, looking pensive. “Tell the truth, I don’t blame him for how he felt, I’da probably done the same. But because of the connection we have now due to you and Briana, our paths are gonna’ cross. We decided to live and let live, is all. No hard feelings n’ all that. He was askin’ me how I was enjoyin’ my retirement, an’ he thought it was funny when I told him about my new business venture.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Me gettin’ approval to be a private investigator an’ doin’ the firearms safety course, so I could get licensed to be armed. He wanted to know how I swung it. Course, I learned to handle a piece since I was no age, so I’m a better shot than any of them teachers. And I never got convicted of nuthin’, so I ain’t got a rap sheet.”

  “I’m glad you two sorted things out.” Cassie set down her empty wine glass. “I think we’ve probably had enough excitement for one night. If I can just find Briana, we can congratulate her before heading home. Judging by the response from
the guests, the evening has been a great success.” Her eyes landed on the group of guests who had started dancing, alcohol making them raucous.

  As she continued to scan the room looking for her daughter, she caught sight of a familiar face, Chef Chastain, from Canlis, a restaurant she had reviewed a few weeks earlier for her Food Spy newspaper column.

  “Give me just a minute. I want to speak with Chef Chastain,” she said to Al. “I want to tell him how much I enjoyed our meal that time we ate there. I wrote a favorable review, but I’d like to thank him in person.”

  “Sure,” Al said. “I’ll see if I can’t track down Briana.”

  Cassie set off in one direction and Al in the other. When she reached the chef, she opened her mouth to speak, but noticed he was glaring at someone across the room. Turning to see if she was interrupting something, she followed the chef’s gaze to where he was staring towards the elevator doors. A woman she recognized as Maureen, Kitten’s sister, was getting into the elevator hand-in-hand with a man. She turned back to Chef Chastain, but to her surprise, he was gone.

  At that moment Briana flung her arms around her. “Mom, guess what? We sold four units tonight, and Mario’s given me a huge bonus!”

  Cassie decided she would have to call the restaurant and speak to the chef at a later time. She switched her attention to concentrating on her daughter’s excited account of how the evening had unfolded.

  CHAPTER 9

  Kitten Carlucci climbed out of her red Mercedes sports car and handed the key to the doorman of the Waterfront Palace, who had come out front to greet her.

  “Good morning, George,” she smiled. “Where’s the parking valet?”

  “Late. Again,” George said. “I’ll take care of it, Mrs. Carlucci. Do you have any bags?”

  Kitten nodded, and George opened the trunk, lifting out her Louis Vuitton gym bag and some dry cleaning covered with loose, clear plastic sheets. “I’ll arrange for Sam, the concierge, to send everything up, ma’am,” he said, opening the main entrance door for her. Security was high at the building, something Mario considered a good selling point for the elite type of buyers the condominium units were being marketed to.

  “Thank you, George. There’s no hurry. I’m meeting my sister to go to the fitness center in the basement, but she’s a late riser. I’m sure she’ll keep me waiting for a while like she always does.”

  Inside, Kitten made her way to the private elevator which swooshed her to the top of the building. Stepping into the penthouse, she was pleased to note there was no evidence of the party that had taken place into the small hours of the previous night. When she and Mario had left, it was after midnight, and a group of freeloading revellers were still going strong.

  “I’ll get rid of the stragglers and lock up,” Briana had assured them. “The cleaning service will be here at 6:00 a.m. Next time you’re here, all this—” she said, indicating the messy room, “will seem like a dream.”

  “That girl’s a gem,” Kitten said to Mario on their way out. “She goes above and beyond the call of duty. Her mother, Cassie, struck me as a strong woman when we met earlier tonight. Al seems to adore her.” She slipped her hand into Mario’s as they waited for their car to be brought up from the underground parking garage.

  “Are you happy, Kitty?” Mario had said, gazing into her eyes.

  “Very,” she said, tiptoeing to lightly brush her mouth against his. “Don’t look so worried, Mario. I’m delighted how things turned out. Al and I…” Her voice trailed off, as she reconsidered her choice of words, not wanting to hurt her husband. “Let’s just say I couldn’t see what was staring me in the face. I never wanted Al, not really, until I thought I couldn’t have him.” She stroked Mario’s cheek, raising her lips to meet his once more. “Marriage to you, on the other hand, has exceeded my wildest expectations. I never thought I could be this fulfilled. Thank you, for sticking with me until I became sensible.”

  Mario’s worried expression had relaxed, and he pulled her close. “You’re a lot for any man to handle, Kitty. I’m glad you’re all mine.”

  Kitten smiled to herself at the recollection of Mario wrapping his arms around her, and how she had sunk into his embrace. Although she had never lacked for male companionship, for years she had lived an independent life, living alone and working as a burlesque dancer before her age had caught up with her. She’d been sensible with her earnings and invested them wisely during her career, so she wasn’t short of cash, but by no means wealthy on the scale of what she had married into.

  It wasn’t the money she valued about being married. It was having someone look out for her, knowing that Mario had her back, and that he cherished her enough to make a lifelong commitment to stay by her side. When they had said their vows, there was no doubt in her mind that Mario had truly meant the words ‘till death do us part.’

  She fixed a cup of coffee and went outside to sit on the balcony. The sun was breaking through some fluffy clouds and the sounds of the traffic below indicated the city was waking up and coming to life. There was something magical about observing the scene from the twenty-fifth floor, which provided a bird’s eye view. It was as if she was an outsider, looking in. Even though it was a Saturday, traffic still snaked below like matchboxes inching forward on a grid. The pedestrians were larger than ants but smaller than her fingernail if she raised her hand and closed one eye.

  At times like these, Kitten appreciated how lucky she was. The day stretched ahead of her, and she had the freedom to spend it as she chose. The finest of everything was hers for the asking, with no financial restrictions. But with Maureen spending more and more time with one or another of her men friends these days, Kitten often found herself at loose ends. As a result, she ended up going shopping for things she didn’t need. The alternative was attending the gym or a dance class to while away the hours until Mario came home from work. Even on weekends, he was glued to his phone.

  “Mario, you really should slow down. I’d like you to spend more quality time with me,” she’d pleaded with him on more than one occasion since their wedding.

  “I will, I promise, once the developments are sold out, or I can get Joe Li out of my hair, whichever comes first,” was Mario’s favorite response. Kitten didn’t know what Joe, or the Chinese company he worked for, had done to raise Mario’s stress levels. Even so, she knew something had to give and soon.

  She was interrupted from her thoughts by the buzz of her phone vibrating on the side table. A smile crossed her face as her husband’s name flashed across the screen.

  “Darling,” she said, lifting the device. “I was just thinking about you. How about if we catch a movie tonight? There’s a new Jack Reacher release starring Tom Cruise showing at Big Picture.”

  Mario sighed. “I’d love to, but I’m meeting the architect about the university project this afternoon. We’ve got an issue with the construction, and the plans need altering. I might be home late.”

  “Can’t it wait till Monday? Let Joe pick up some of the slack for a change.”

  “Unfortunately, Joe’s part of the problem. Tell you what, let me buy you lunch instead. What time will you be finished at the gym?”

  Kitten glanced at her watch. She knew there was no point trying to make Mario change his plans, and she didn’t want to cause an argument. “Fine, let’s make it noon. There’s no sign of Maureen, and I won’t disturb her in case she had company overnight. I’ll have a workout session without her, and we can catch up afterwards. How does that sound?’

  “Perfect. See if she wants to come with us, then the two of you can go to The Nest, or wherever it is you hang out most afternoons.”

  “If you insist,” Kitten said with a smile. “I’ll look forward to it. See you later.”

  *****

  When Mario arrived, he sat in the study of the penthouse and pored over some of the spreadsheets on his laptop while he waited for Kitten to return from the gym. He ended up slamming it shut before lifting his phone and pressing
the number at the top of his speed dial list.

  “Joe, it’s Mario again. I’m not sure what you’re trying to palm off on me, but don’t take me for a sucker. These figures you gave me don’t add up. The paperwork you’ve provided is incomplete, and my finance guy doesn’t understand it either. Can we meet?”

  “No can do, Mario. Wu’s in town. I’m back-to-back myself. Ask my personal assistant to schedule something for next week. Bye.”

  Before Mario had a chance to respond, the line went dead. He pressed the last call button, and this time it went straight to Joe’s message service. Mario cursed under his breath.

  He suspected Joe was making it as difficult as possible for him to get to the root of the business’s cash flow problems. Partnering with China Create Group was the only way Mario had been able to get his developments off the ground, but he had discovered the truth too late. China Create only had their own interests at heart, and Mario was a pawn in their game.

  With the Waterfront Palace completed, he was in a position to leverage enough capital to buy Wu out, but his Chinese partners were refusing to cooperate. Mario had evidence to prove Joe had intervened to block sales on several units to high bidders. The Chinese man had then approved low-ball offers from buyers connected to China Create via a complicated web of offshore holding companies.

  When his phone rang, his first thought was that Joe was calling him, but it was Kitten’s name that flashed up.

  He began to smile, before his wife’s screech caused him to move the receiver away from his ear. She was screaming something indecipherable, and the only thing Mario could understand was that something terrible had happened.

  “Kitty? Slow down, honey, it’s a bad line. I can’t make out what you’re saying.”

  Mario’s face fell as her words sank in. He started to run while he talked. “Stay right there. I’ll be right down.”

  He reached Maureen’s condo moments later, where he found a wailing Kitten kneeling inside the doorway, hunched over Maureen’s body. There was a trail of blood across the floor.

 

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