“Then let’s go. I have a few questions I want to ask of Jacqui.”
They drove to the police department, where Adam said she was being held, and discussed their cover story along the way. Margot had to continually pull Adam back in the details he wanted to add to their story, reminding him it was only one night and it would be impossible for her to remember the five names of their past greyhound dogs—among other such details.
When they arrived, she was fairly certain they had a good story down, even if it was going to be embellished by Adam’s fake yacht and fake golf scores.
She followed him down the hallway and then stopped when he paused before the door. “Want to go in first and see what you can find out?”
Margot considered this but shook her head. “No, I think you should come with me. Jacqui needs to know that it’s okay to talk with you. The police are not enemies but friends.”
“After you,” he said, his smile belying his agreement with her on this.
“Hello, Jacqui,” Margot said, slipping into a seat across from the girl. There were dark circles under her eyes and her shoulders drooped.
“Margot?” She looked confused. “What are you doing here?”
“We came to talk to you. This is Detective Adam Eastwood.”
“Hello,” she said, looking from Adam back to Margot. “Am I getting out of here soon?”
“Unfortunately, that’s not the case.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders seemed to droop even more.
“Jacqui,” Margot said in a soothing tone, “why did you lie to me?”
“Lie? What do you mean?”
“We had a witness step forward and say that you were in an argument with the victim, Simon Plainy, the night before his murder. They said they saw you behind the Bistro Franco tent arguing in a very hostile manner.”
“Oh my gosh.”
“Can you give me an explanation for this?” Adam did a good job keeping his tone even but stern.
“I really didn’t know him,” she began, meeting Margot’s gaze. “I wasn’t lying. We didn’t know each other before he started working for my father for the festival, but he’d come on to me that night.”
“In what way?” Adam asked.
“He was just flirting at first, then suggested we go out. I decided to use it to my advantage.” She bit her lip nervously.
“What do you mean?” Adam asked, sharing a glance with Margot.
“I told Margot this, but I have a suspicion that Lindsay is doing something with the waitstaff she hires to work for my dad. I tried to get information from him.”
“By yelling at him?” Adam asked, consulting his notes.
“It got a little heated because he’d thought I was giving in to his advances then I started ‘grilling him,’ as he put it, and then we were kind of yelling at one another. It was dumb, don’t get me wrong, but I just wanted to know what was going on.”
“Did he say anything that makes you think you were right?” Margot asked.
“Not really. If anything, he was really loyal to Lindsay. Maybe that’s how she does it, I don’t know. I just knew that something wasn’t right. He’d clearly never had any training in waiting and we’re supposed to have really experienced staff, you know? Mostly it’s just the same guys, but he said his friend got him the job.”
“What friend?” Adam asked. “Did he give you a name?”
“Um, I think he said the guy’s name was Blake something. I think it started with a K?”
“I’ll look into it.”
“I really didn’t know him,” she said, her eyes pleading with Adam. “I know it sounds suspicious, but things happened just like I said in my statement. I walked in and he was on the floor and I touched the knife because I wasn’t sure if I should take it out. I—I didn’t kill him.”
Margot felt as if she could see sincerity in the young woman’s gaze, but she also didn’t want to read into the situation. There was a chance Jacqui had been lying to them all the whole time, though there was no way to know.
“Right, well, thank you for talking to us.” Adam rose to go, but Jacqui reached out a hand to Margot. “I came to you because I knew you could help me. I still think that’s true.”
“I’ll do what I can.” Margot squeezed the young woman’s hand and nodded.
Jacqui met Margot’s gaze with tears in her eyes. “I know you will.”
A few days after their meeting with Jacqui, Margot and Adam found themselves in a fancy boutique shop getting outfits for their party that evening. Margot had been busy with shop details for a few weddings they had been hired to bake pastries for as well as the details for her own wedding.
They were nearing being done with all of the vendors, but various details still had to be taken care of. She had a Skype call just that morning with her sister, who would be helping with the decorations, and Margot was feeling like everything was falling into place.
“You look preoccupied,” Adam said, holding up a linen beach shirt that cost more than four hundred dollars. “Do people really pay this much for clothes?” he said, almost to himself.
“I am, and they do.”
“You’re kidding.” He shook his head. “Now tell me why.”
“They like the cloth, I suppose?” she offered with a shrug.
“No,” he chuckled. “Why are you preoccupied?”
“Oh, right. I talked with Renee this morning,” she began.
“Did you have a good talk?”
“We did,” she admitted, “but it makes me think there are still things I’ve forgotten.”
“I’m sure there are, but you are also running a business and trying to prove your friend innocent of wrongdoing. Not to mention dragging me around to fancy parties.” She laughed at his over-exaggerated manner. “But don’t worry, it’ll be fine. More than fine—it’s going to be great. As long as we’re married at the end of the day, I’d count it a win.”
“Thanks, Adam,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Now let’s be Mister and Missus Tharman.
They searched around the shop for the perfect attire and, after spending a small fortune that Margot said was worth it, they left with their bags of clothes.
“We have to pull this off,” she explained to Adam, “because people will be able to spot if we aren’t wearing designer things. Thankfully, this party isn’t completely formal or we would have had to spend even more.”
Adam merely shook his head and opened the door for Margot. “Are we buying a car too?”
“I’ve hired a town car for us to take.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” she said with a smile. “We’re supposed to be visiting anyway so it would be natural we’d hire a car.”
“Naturally,” he said with a dramatic tilt of his hand. “What do you hope to find out at tonight’s party?”
“First off, I hope that we can spot something unusual.”
“Like?”
Margot waited until Adam was back in the car to explain. “I think the waitstaff does something—either they pilfer the jewels there or gain information of some sort at these parties that they use later.
“Take Ann, for example. She attended a party, and then what happens but her jewels are replaced by fakes. How that happened I’m not sure of, but I hope that today, we’ll be able to see a little part of that process.”
“So you want me to chat up these people but also keep an eye on the waitstaff.”
“Exactly. I’m going to make myself a target.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I’ve gotten jewels to wear, fakes but they are so real-looking that no one will be able to tell. At least, that’s my hope. I want them to target me—whether it’s taking them that night or…”
“What else could they do?”
“Well, I don’t think they actually took Ann’s jewels the night that she attended that party. I think that they saw something or made their choice of theft that night and then carried out the plan at another time.
”
“That’s an interesting theory, Watson.”
“You’re Watson,” she said without missing a beat. “But yes, I’m hoping we’re singled out as the new wealth in town. I’ll make some big show of talking about my diamonds and see what happens.”
“You won’t put yourself in a bad position though, will you.” Adam said it as a statement, not a suggestion.
“Of course not. Besides…” She patted him on the chest. “I’ll have big, strong Hadley Wellington Tharman on my side.”
“Don’t forget,” he added with a sly smile. “The Third.”
“How could I, darling?”
Adam chuckled. “So, you’ll pick me up in that fancy town car tonight?”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, smiling, “we’re getting picked up at The Vienna.”
He rolled his eyes picturing the most expensive hotel in North Bank. Margot knew he would give her a hard time for driving to The Vienna and then making it look like they were actually staying there, but she reasoned that he had to give her credit for commitment.
10
Margot tried not go gape at the vast estate as their hired car traveled up the road toward an artfully lit building with white staccato façade. Palm trees and exotic plants lined the driveaway, all lit by solar lights that twinkled as the car passed.
“Nice place,” Adam deadpanned.
“Incredible is more like it,” Margot observed. It was everything she’d expected and more—if that was possible.
The couples climbing out of similar cars were dressed elegantly but not so fancy that Margot and Adam would be out of place. The women mostly had low slung heels and even summer dresses of a caliber that Margot would expect to see at an estate party like this. The men were decked out in light suitcoats but no ties, tailored shirts with a few buttons open, worn like they were a second skin.
When they pulled up to the entrance, Adam stepped out and, like the debonair man he was—as well as the character he was playing—held his hand back for Margot to take. She slipped out of the car, the slit in her lightweight black dress exposing her tanned skin just enough to tease the eye.
“Have I mentioned how incredible you look tonight?” Adam whispered into her ear.
She blushed. “You think I should always wear six hundred-dollar dresses?”
“It’s not the dress,” he said, pausing halfway up the steps to push a lock of hair behind her ear before leaning in to kiss her. She pulled back slightly but his hand slid to the small of her back. “Just keeping up appearances,” he whispered before their lips met.
She smiled against his lips. True, they were a wealthy married couple. They could kiss anywhere they pleased, even if she herself wouldn’t generally condone such public displays of affection.
“The moustache goes after tonight,” she said when they parted.
“You don’t like it?” he said, feigning hurt.
“Not one bit.”
“Good. Me either.”
They walked hand in hand up the rest of the steps and Adam handed their invitation to the man at the door, saying with a droll tone, “Mister and Missus Tharman.”
“Yes, sir, welcome,” the man said, stepping back to allow them entrance. Another employee led them down a hallway to an already opened door from where soft Latin music was streaming. “If you need to check anything, just continue on down the hall to the coat area. Otherwise, have a wonderful evening.”
They both thanked him, and Margot knew that Adam was taking note of the coat check area as another potential place to look into.
When they stepped through the door, Margot would have thought they’d stepped into another world. Bistro lights were strung on the ceiling radiating out from a central light in the middle of the room. A small band played from a stand in the corner, a singer taking up residence on a chair during the instrumental number.
Drapes of deep reds and golds hung along both opposing walls and the French doors at the end of the room were flung wide open to create a seamless flow between ballroom to pool area.
“This is magical,” Margot said, her breath catching.
“Let’s mingle,” was Adam’s only reply. She recognized the look on his face. He was focused on the job now, as she should be too.
Her gaze took in the room now not for the details and finery but for the waitstaff. There were some situated around the room with silver trays in hand, waiting for a guest to set a drink down on any number of standing height tables scattered near the buffet area. She saw a few bringing out new trays laden with goodies, and then she caught a quick glance of the kitchen area where more stood around waiting for orders or more food.
She knew Bistro Franco was catering the event, but she wasn’t sure if Lindsay would be there. She hoped not, but either way, she planned to steer clear of the kitchen. In her experience, it was hard to manage an event such as this, let alone have time for something sinister on the side. Margot was almost confident that if anything were to happen, it would happen in another area besides the kitchen.
Margot and Adam had already discussed their strategy and now it was time to get to it.
Margot spotted Ann and, as they had already arranged, she went toward her knowing that her friend would make the introductions she needed. As she walked across the room, Margot caught a glimpse of Roxanne Fox and her spirits soared. So she was here. This was very good! Just what they needed!
“Good evening, darling,” Ann said, kissing Margot on both cheeks.
“My dear Ann, it is so good to see you,” she said, playing her part perfectly.
“Please, meet Missy Fitzgerald and Donna Henry, both dear friends of mine.”
They began small talk and, at one point, Margot was able to maneuver her friend to the outdoor area where Roxanne stood talking to three men, each laughing in turn.
Who’s working whom? Margot thought. The men looked equally interested in Roxanne as she was in each of them. Margot remembered Ann’s comment about the Fox siblings knowing how to work a room and Margot could see that was happening at the very moment with a small portion of the room.
Before they could reach Roxanne, they were accosted by a couple who sold real estate. They were all smiling charm and exuded a type of wealth themselves, and Margot knew she had to go along with it if they were going to pull this off.
She joined in the conversation, keeping one eye on Roxanne’s progress with the three men and one eye on Adam across the room where he was telling a story in the midst of a large group of men. They all seemed to be laughing and having a good time, though Margot knew Adam wouldn’t let it distract him. He was likely gaining information from each man without them even realizing it.
“What do you think?” the woman realtor asked. Margot shamed herself for not remembering her name as well as not paying attention.
“I’m sorry, but I’m just so distracted by the beauty of this pool area. I’m thinking we’ll need something like this.” She had a feeling that those words would be just distracting enough to the realtor that they would forgive her lack of attention.
“I quite understand,” the woman said with a sickeningly sweet smile.
Just then, Margot caught Roxanne staring her way. Margot had slipped the light wrap from around her shoulders to the crooks of her elbows to better show off the stunning necklace Ann had helped her find. If it had been real, it would have been something Margot never would have felt comfortable wearing, but as it was, she realized that it would be her biggest selling point.
Margot, trying not to pay any attention to Roxanne, continued joking and laughing with those in her circle. She made motions to lightly touch the necklace, drawing attention to it, and regaled her guests with tales of the charming suite they’d had in France.
Had Margot the time to truly think about what she was saying, she would have laughed. She knew much about France due to her late husband’s heritage there, but never in her life would she have thought to stay for a month in an expensive suite just to roam the c
ountryside for the best wines. And yet, here she was regaling them all as if that was exactly what she had done.
Then, as Margot was just about to give up hope of attracting Roxanne’s attention, Margot caught the woman making her good-byes to the men she’d been talking with and, with a subtle nod toward someone across the pool, she made her way toward Margot.
It was showtime.
“I simply must meet the famous Missus Wila Tharman.” Roxanne’s voice was smooth like honey and her smile matched her tone in sweetness, though Margot detected a hint of cunning hardness under the surface. “I’m Roxanne Fox.”
“Hello,” Margot said, keeping her smile appropriately distracted. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Not as much of a pleasure as it is for me to meet the next resident of North Bank.”
“Who spilled?” Margot laughed, playing her part.
“I’ve got friends in high places,” Roxanne said. “So, is it true? You are moving here?”
“We’re considering it,” Margot said suspiciously. Though she didn’t want to completely turn the woman off by her nonchalance, she wanted to keep an air of mystery as well. “Actually,” she said, seeing an opportunity, “we’ve already put in an offer.”
Roxanne gasped. “You did?”
“Yes, but don’t tell anyone here.” Margot leaned in conspiratorially. “I don’t want anyone to feel foolish for the connections they are making tonight.”
“My, my, Wila,” Roxanne laughed. “Aren’t you a sly devil.”
Margot gave an effortless shrug she’d learned from Julian’s very-French relatives. “I like to keep my options open.”
“Naturally.”
Margot watched as Roxanne looked across the pool again and gave a slight nod. This time, she caught who the intended glance went to. A handsome young man whom she assumed was Roxanne’s brother.
“So tell me, Wila,” Roxanne continued as if none of this had transpired, “do you like parties?”
“I do,” Margot agreed, though she was uncertain where Roxanne was going with her question.
“Like this? More lavish? Less?”
Catering and Crime Page 7
