Camilla T. Crespi - The Breakfast Club Murder

by Camilla T. Crespi

  The waiter interrupted them by bringing Lori’s Cobb salad and Warren’s club sandwich.

  Warren waited until the waiter was out of earshot to continue. “Rob is now in the hot seat.” He kept his voice low. “He’s being looked at very carefully by the Hawthorne Park Homicide Squad.”

  “Because of Valerie’s will?”

  Warren raised an eyebrow. “You know about that?” He didn’t seem pleased.

  “My mother has connections.”

  Warren bit into his club sandwich. It was huge, but so was his mouth. “Of course she has connections, she’s Italian,” he said, after he’d swallowed.

  “Not nice, Warren.”

  “You’re right. I apologize. I wanted the kick of surprising you with the news. Forgive me?”

  “Of course.” She had heard many worse slurs against Italians in her lifetime. So many she was almost turning a deaf ear. Almost.

  “Who’s your mother’s connection?” Warren asked.

  “A friend of a friend.”

  “You’re sounding vague.”

  “That’s all I know.” Lori didn’t want to mention Joey Pellegrino’s name. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe because of Warren’s curiosity. Maybe because Ellie had a crush on Joey. For all she knew, they might even be having an affair. “Is it important who the connection is?”

  Warren sat back and sipped his beer. “No. One thing I bet you don’t know is how much Rob is getting.”

  “Please don’t tell me, Warren. I find it painful.”

  Warren reached over and took her hand. “God, Lori, I don’t know what’s the matter with me. Of course it hurts.”

  Lori slipped her hand back onto her lap. She wasn’t hungry anymore. Because of Jessica, she was worried about Rob. “They can’t really think Rob would be so stupid as to kill his wife on the same day that she changed her will, can they?”

  “Sure they can. He had opportunity—that excuse about feeling sick wouldn’t convince an addled sheep. He had means—”

  Lori started to object. He waved his hand to stop her. “Yes, I know, anyone can pick up a gun without making a dent in their wallet, but motive is the clincher. By signing over her money to him on her death, Valerie gave Rob the number one motive for murder. Greed.”

  “You looked into his money situation for my divorce. Did you see anything that spelled trouble? Did Rob have debts?

  Were there risky investments? Anything that might show he was in desperate need of money?”

  “His accounts looked okay to me. He had some real estate investments that had done very well for him. Some high tech stuff I would have stayed away from, but he didn’t put in a lot of money, so even if the tech stuff went south, it wouldn’t hurt him. Of course, in divorce cases you get shown what they want to show you. For all we know, Rob could have made investments offshore. You didn’t want me to investigate that, remember?”

  “I remember.” Lori had wanted to keep the divorce as dignified as possible.

  Because Warren was eyeing her untouched plate, Lori took a bite, chewed slowly, swallowed. She eyed the woman two tables away, who was eating her Cobb salad with relish. To Lori it tasted of straw. “Rob didn’t kill her,” she said. That much she did know about her ex.

  “That’s not the point. The point is he’s being investigated big-time, which means you are probably off the hook and that’s good news. Yes, I know you’re thinking about Jessica. All the more reason to let me take her to Cape Cod tomorrow. Get her away from here before she sniffs out that her sweet daddy might get indicted for murder. Has the media been hounding you?”

  “A couple of reporters showed up at the house and I screen my calls.” Lori pushed the plate away. “What if Valerie was not the intended victim? What if the killer thought he was shooting at Rob?”

  Warren looked up from his sandwich, eyes alert. “Have you got a motive besides jealousy?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Then let’s not go there. Because if Rob was the intended victim, you’re going to start looking good again to those two idiots on the case.” Warren leaned forward his chair, beer mug and plate empty. “How about some ice cream? Guaranteed to slide down your throat no matter how upset you are.” He patted her arm. “Give it a try.”

  He looked worried for her, so Lori said yes. Warren called Arnold over to order two chocolate ice creams and two coffees. While they waited, Warren said, “There’s a new man in Margot’s life.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said in a soft voice to counter the bitterness of his.

  “I want to know who it is. Can you do that for me?”

  “If it was anyone important to her, Margot would tell me,” Lori said. “Women friends usually share that kind of information.” Even if she did know anything, which she didn’t, she wouldn’t rat to Warren. Margot was her friend first. “What makes you think she’s dating someone?”

  “She looks more beautiful. She’s more relaxed. I’ve been through this before, of course. I get jealous each time, but I’ve never been worried. As you know, Margot has short-lived crushes—a month, two at the most, then she moves on like a bee to the next flower. She’s always told me about them if I asked. This time when I ask she gets angry, which tells me whoever it is, he’s important to her.” Warren took a cigar from his breast pocket, unwrapped it, snipped off the end with a gadget that looked like a mini guillotine. He contemplated the cigar for a moment—a cigar he was not allowed to smoke on the premises—with a rueful look, which he then shifted to Lori. “I’m a fool and I’m embarrassing you.”

  It was true that he’d embarrassed her, but instead of thinking him a fool, Lori felt sorry for him. “Loving her so much must be very painful.”

  “I don’t wish that kind of obsession on anyone.” Warren tucked his unlit cigar back in his breast pocket. “For you to tell me anything about Margot’s love life would be an egregious breach of loyalty on your part. I am the first to appreciate that. Can you forget I asked?”

  “Of course,” Lori said just as the ice cream came. As they ate, Warren asked about her trip to Italy, about her plans to be a caterer, wanted her business cards as soon as they were ready to give out to friends at the club. He was caring and gentle, and Lori forgot the moment when his gaze had frightened her.

  CHAPTER 18

  * * *

  Lori’s cell phone rang as she was leaving the Port Chester Costco parking lot.

  “The neighbors saw and heard nada Monday night.” Margot’s whiskey voice sounded disappointed. “And I couldn’t come up with any real friends of Valerie’s except Ruth. I took her out to lunch in the city today at Le Colonial. Have you been? Fabulous. It’s like going back in time and dining in a lush French plantation in Vietnam.”

  “Sounds great, but tell me what Ruth said.” Lori turned the air-conditioner to high to keep the food she’d bought for Saturday night’s dinner cool.

  “She ate, mostly. Coconut shrimp, chicken ravioli, beef briolle with sticky rice, eggplant, and chocolate mousse. And drank most of a bottle of 1999 Pouilly-Fuissé. She kept crying between bites and sips and my heart went out to her. She’s taking Valerie’s death very badly.”

  Lori veered left onto Main Street. “They were that close?”

  “Ruth, as it turns out, is Valerie’s cousin. Her only living relative.”

  That explained why she was the only one of Valerie’s employees mentioned in the will. “Does she have any idea why anyone would want to kill Valerie?”

  “Well, she mentioned you, and said she didn’t really think you’d go that far. She leans toward the carjacking theory.”

  “That’s what Rob thinks, and I wish the police did, too.”

  “By the way,” Margot said, “Ruth loved your condolence note. She claims she doesn’t know much, but she’s more than happy to talk to you. She seemed eager to help. I don’t think she’s had too many people pay much attention to her.”

  “Did she say anything about inheriting money from Valerie?”

&n
bsp; “Oooh.” Margot exhaled into the phone. “Did she?”

  “Yes, according to Warren.”

  “Well, I hope it’s a lot. So what did my ex have to say?”

  “Are you seeing anyone?”

  There was a moment of silence. Lori thought she could hear Margot stewing. “I’m seeing several ones,” Margot finally said.

  “Well, he’s convinced you’re in love.”

  “Warren likes to own people and things and Warren doesn’t like to be crossed. One of the many reasons I left him.”

  “But you still see him.”

  “Let’s not talk about him. Tell me more about Valerie’s will.”

  “Another time. I need to stop by Sally’s Blooms”—Janet wanted to show her some flower arrangements for Mrs. Ashe’s dinner party—“and I’ve just spotted a parking place large enough to accommodate your gorgeous car. By the way, are you in love?”

  “I’m not ready to go public, but if and when, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Good luck.” Lori clicked off the phone, pushed the stick shift into reverse, and silently prayed for a smooth, silent maneuver.

  “You’re looking good,” Janet said when Lori walked into the flower shop.

  “I had lunch with Warren at his club. How are you?” Lori asked. Her friend looked tired and out of sorts.

  Janet stopped fiddling with a pot of startling blue hydrangeas and tried on a smile. “I was going to ask you, you know, about that other business.” She glanced backward at Shirley, the owner, who was with a customer in the rear.

  Lori leaned into the counter. “The plot thickens, but I’ll tell you later.”

  “Seth has left Rob lots of messages.” Janet’s role in the sleuthing was to have Seth pump Rob for information about Valerie to try to come up with a possible suspect other than Lori. “He doesn’t call back.”

  Of course Rob didn’t call back. He was suspect numero uno now. At least according to Warren. “I might be off the hook,” Lori said.

  “That’s nice,” Janet said with surprisingly little enthusiasm. “Let me show you what I’ve thought of.”

  Janet had to be really down to respond that way. “I’m sure whatever you’ve planned is going to be beautiful.”

  Janet walked over to the refrigerator section and removed four small cream-colored ceramic bowls with different combinations of flowers. “I followed your suggestion and called Mrs. Ashe and asked her what she was going to be wearing Saturday night.”

  “Gray?”

  “Mauve, so I thought we could go for purple, white, and pink flowers, or just pink and white or pale orange and white. Which do you prefer?”

  “Why don’t I bring them over to Mrs. Ashe and have her pick?”

  “She said you should decide.”

  “All three are gorgeous. If I have to pick one, I go for the orange and white arrangement, but it’s really your choice. You’re my flower expert.” Lori lowered her voice. “Hon, are you okay?”

  Janet did not meet Lori’s eyes. “Shirley thinks the purple, pink, and white arrangement is the prettiest, and she’s the real expert, so I’ll go with that, if you don’t mind.”

  Lori raised her hands. “You’re the boss. See you Saturday at the Ashe apartment. I’ll be there from three o’clock on, so come any time after that. Guests are arriving at seven p.m., and I’m home tonight if you have any questions.” Lori waved and walked to the door.

  “Wait!” Janet called out.

  Lori turned around.

  Janet came close. “I’m fine. So is Seth,” she said in a whisper. “Our problems are over. We’re going to be fine.”

  Why was she whispering? What was there to hide? “Oh, great!” Lori hugged her. “He has a job?”

  Janet shook her head. “We’re going to be fine,” she repeated. “An investment came through.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard in ages,” Lori said, her eyes fixed on Janet’s face. “I’m really happy for you both.”

  “Thanks,” Janet said. “What should I wear? I’ve never been a waitress before.”

  The arrangement they had made for Janet to help Lori serve the food had been made on Monday, when Janet still needed money. “You’re still okay with helping out?” Lori asked.

  Janet looked hurt. “I’m not going to back out on you at the last minute.”

  “Thanks. I really appreciate it. Black slacks or a black skirt and a white shirt is the usual uniform. And you’re a food server, not a waitress. As for never having done it before, I guess Seth’s been eating out every night.”

  Janet nodded. The smile Lori was hoping for didn’t come. They kissed each other’s cheeks, said goodbye. As Lori walked to Margot’s car, she wondered. If Janet and Seth’s money problems were finally over, if they were “going to be fine,” why didn’t Janet look happy?

  At home, Lori put the food in the refrigerator, changed into her usual shorts and T-shirt, washed makeup and layers of cream off her face, then called Jess on her cell phone. She explained about Warren needing to leave tomorrow. Angie had already told Jessica.

  “I don’t know, Mom. Dad said it’s okay but . . . I don’t know.”

  Rob hadn’t told her about Valerie’s will. It would have been the first thing she would have blurted out. “Jess, whatever you decide is fine with me, but I’m going to be too busy preparing for the dinner party to drive you anywhere tomorrow or Saturday.”

  “What about Grammy? She wanted me to come over on Saturday.”

  “I’ll drive you over tomorrow morning early.”

  “Then it’s okay to go?”

  “Of course it is. What do you want for dinner?”

  “Pizza. It’s lousy where we’re going. And Mom, oh, Mom, I’ve got lots to tell you except I can’t talk now.”

  “Deuce?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Can’t wait to hear all about it. Come home soon.”

  “Forty-five minutes max.”

  Lori went downstairs to the kitchen. Now she needed to call Rob. She was still scared. It was nice to think the police might not suspect her anymore, but she had Jess to worry about. First her mother a murder suspect, and now her father. What if the police arrested Rob? What kind of scar would that leave on her daughter? Rob had to have an alibi. The doorman must have seen him come home that night. And if he was meeting someone as Angie and Jess thought, that person could vouch for him and he’d be fine.

  Lori changed the water for the flowers. They were still holding up. Lord, she hadn’t sent Alec Winters a thank-you note. What was she waiting for? Such a small task, why couldn’t she handle it? Lori walked over to her desk with determination. On a plain card, she wrote a fast thank you, addressed the envelope, sealed it, put a stamp on it, and went to leave the note on the hall table to put in the mailbox later.

  Back in the kitchen, she glanced at the wall phone by the refrigerator. She had no desire to get involved in Rob’s problems. Thanks to him, she had enough of her own. Concentrate on pizza. She had tried making it countless times. She’d even bought a baking stone in order to get a crisp crust, but she never could match Gino’s Pizza, three miles down the road. She’d stopped trying. Lori walked to phone. First the pizza. Then Rob.

  She called Gino’s and ordered a large pizza with pepperoni, mushrooms, and extra mozzarella that she would pick up in an hour. Now it was Rob’s turn.

  “How was lunch with the bear?” Beth asked when she answered the phone at the gallery.

  “Fine.” Lori walked the receiver over to a chair by the table and sat down. Somehow her fingers had dialed the wrong number, which Lori took to mean that she needed comfort first. She told Beth about Rob’s visit, about Valerie’s will, and the police shifting their suspicions to Rob.

  “That’s good for you and tough on Jess, which I guess ends up making it even tougher on you,” Beth said.

  “Jess doesn’t know anything yet, and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.”

  “How much i
s Rob inheriting?” Beth asked.

  “I don’t know the dollar amount, but according to my mother, except for a few thousand for Ruth, the office manager, he gets the lot.”

  Beth whistled.

  Lori told her about Janet. “She said her money worries are over, that an investment came through for them, which is great, but she didn’t look in the least bit happy.”

  “Maybe it’s not that easy to shrug off the worry weight. Maybe she’s afraid to believe that they are finally going to be okay. People can react to good news in funny ways. Give her time.”

  “You’re right,” Lori said. “When you made dean’s list, you had to write it down on an index card that you carried with you for a week before you allowed yourself a smile.”

  Beth laughed. “Ah, the good old days. No worries, no fears. And now . . . Lori, I can’t believe how well you’re holding up. You’re a mountain of strength. I’d be blubbering in a closet.”

  “I can’t fall apart with Jess around, but believe me, inside I can’t stop shaking.”

  “Want me to come over with a case of wine?”

  The thought made Lori smile. The last time they had gotten drunk together was the night before Beth’s wedding. They’d ended up dancing in their underwear in Beth’s backyard with all the sprinklers turned on. The next morning Beth’s wonderful mother had wondered why they hadn’t stripped everything off.

  “Thanks, Beth, I’d love it, but it’s my last night with Jess for a couple of weeks.” They made a brunch date for Sunday at Beth’s place in Bedford. Before hanging up, Lori asked, “You didn’t by any chance unplug my phone when you were here on Monday?”

  “Why the hell would I do that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you tripped on the cord?”

  “What did you have to drink for lunch?”

  “Bloody Murder. It can make you a little crazy.” Lori took a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m being silly.”