by B R Snow
“Georgio asked her to send him a message as soon as she made her mind up about wanting to give their relationship another shot,” Chef Claire said. “When we found her body, her blouse was partially undone, and she was wearing bright red lipstick.”
“And she was all puckered up like she was about to give someone a kiss,” Betty said.
“That was the message,” Chef Claire said. “Bronwyn was going to send Georgio a sexy photo for him to find on his phone later.”
“So, she took the picture and sprayed herself with poison?” Rosa said.
“Death by selfie,” Josie deadpanned.
“Ironic, huh?” Chef Claire said.
“Retribution for the truly self-absorbed,” Josie said.
“There’s no need to be cruel,” Georgio said. “Bronwyn was a wonderful woman.”
“And you knew what had happened as soon as you saw her sprawled out on the floor,” Betty said.
“Yes,” Georgio whispered. “I did.”
“And the first thing you did was grab your phone off the table,” Betty said.
“That’s right,” Josie said. “I remember. I couldn’t help but notice how different the phone looked from mine.” She glanced down at Georgio. “I asked you about it the next day, and you told me it had a specially designed cover you developed.”
“It was the truth,” Georgio said.
“Just a bit incomplete, right?”
He shrugged and went back to massaging his arm.
“What about Emerson?” Rosa said.
“It had to be Georgio,” Chef Claire said. “Somehow he managed to get away from Lance for a while when they were in town.”
“It’s definitely a possibility,” Betty said, reaching for her purse. “Or Lance is working with him.”
“So, what was the deal, Georgio?” Chef Claire said. “You were driving the black SUV that passed us. Then you made the turn into the golf course.”
Georgio remained silent.
“You must have grabbed a golf cart and drove around until you spotted Emerson on the twelfth green,” Chef Claire said. “What did you do? Talk him into posing for a picture? The view of the lake must have been fantastic.”
Georgio merely shrugged.
“It’s okay, Georgio. Don’t talk,” Betty said, pulling a handgun from her purse. “As soon as this new toxin gets identified, a murder charge is going to be the least of your problems.” She tossed her purse on the table. “Now, all we need to do is figure out how Lance is involved.”
“Figure out how Lance is involved in what?” the surfer said, strolling into the dining room with a travel bag draped over his shoulder. “What the heck is going on?”
“Come on in and have a seat, Lance,” Betty said, extending her arm toward him.
“You’re pointing a gun at me?”
“Nothing gets past him, huh?” Josie said, glancing at Chef Claire.
“Don’t start.”
“Just sit quietly for a minute, Lance,” Betty said, flashing her credentials at him. “I have a few questions for you.”
“FBI?” Lance said with a frown.
“Yes, I am.”
Lance started laughing and didn’t stop for a long time.
“Okay, I’ll play,” Betty said. “What on earth is so funny?”
“I need to show you something,” Lance said, reaching inside his coat pocket. He stopped when he heard Betty rack a shell into the chamber.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Lance,” Betty said, staring hard at the surfer.
“Relax, Betty,” he said. “My gun is packed in my bag. You know, since I didn’t think I was going to need it tonight.”
“His gun?” Josie said.
Chef Claire shrugged without taking her eyes off the action in front of her.
“I’m going to do this very slowly, Betty,” Lance said.
“Good choice on your part,” she said.
“Okay, here we go,” he said, removing an object from his pocket. “You’re FBI, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, I’m going to see your FBI and raise you a CIA,” he said, holding out his credentials.
“What?” Betty whispered, stunned.
“Yeah,” Lance said, handing it to her to examine. “Small world, huh?”
“CIA?” Georgio whispered, then rubbed his forehead with his good arm. “Are you kidding me? I’m such an idiot.”
“I don’t believe it,” Betty said, studying Lance’s credentials before handing them back. “What’s the CIA doing here?”
“Obviously, the same thing you are.”
“Unbelievable,” Josie said.
“Yeah, intra-governmental coordination at its finest,” Chef Claire said, then focused on the two Feds. “Don’t you people ever talk to each other?”
“This is embarrassing,” Betty said.
“Yeah, a little bit,” Lance said with a shrug. “But it’s certainly not the first time it’s happened. Okay, Betty, great work. I’ll take it from here.”
“Like hell you will,” Betty said. “This is my collar.”
“No, this is international,” Lance said. “I don’t want to argue territorial rights here. But this situation is right in our strike zone. It’s what the Agency deals with around the planet on a daily basis.”
“Nice try, Lance,” Betty said. “The FBI has over sixty overseas field offices working in well over a hundred countries.”
“A hundred and eighty, actually,” Lance said. “But who’s counting, huh?”
“No way you’re taking this one from me.”
“I’m the one who convinced him to cut Emerson loose and go with me on the deal,” Lance said.
“So?” Betty said, scowling at Lance. “I’m the one who got her hands on the stuff.” Then she glanced at Chef Claire. “With a lot of help.”
“You had him kill Emerson?” Marco said.
“No, he came up with it on his own,” Lance said. “Didn’t you, Georgio? I guess you didn’t want him hanging around in case he started talking to the wrong people.” He focused on the FBI agent. “I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to walk away, Betty.”
“Not a chance.”
“Then I guess we’ve reached an impasse,” Lance said, sitting back in his chair and draping a leg over his knee. “Tell you what. Let’s share it.”
Betty gave it some serious thought then nodded.
“That might work. This case is certainly big enough for both of us to get plenty of kudos.”
“And we can present it to the public as an example of how two great organizations worked together to bring down a black-market arms dealer,” he said.
“Oh, I love it,” Betty said, tossing her gun back into her purse. “A man and a woman working seamlessly together. Some great optics for both organizations.”
“Yeah, and I think there might be a couple of other ways we can juice the story,” Lance said.
“I’d love to hear your ideas,” Betty said. “Maybe after we take care of Inspector Psycho over there, we can sit down for a drink and discuss it. Or grab some dinner.”
“Perfect,” Lance said, getting to his feet. “You want to make your call first?”
“I would,” Betty said. “Such a gentleman. Hard to find these days.”
“I try,” he said, flashing a big smile.
“Do you believe this?” Josie said.
“What are you gonna do,” Chef Claire said, shaking her head.
“I’m getting a toothache,” Josie said, then caught the look the two agents were now sharing. “Hey, get a room.”
They both flushed with embarrassment and Betty made a quick call. She hung up and nodded at Lance.
“Okay, your turn.”
“Cool,” he said, patting his pockets. “Now, what the heck did I do with my phone?”
“Whatever you do,” Chef Claire said. “Don’t use the one on the floor.”
“What?” Lance said, confused.
“I’ll fill you in la
ter,” Betty said. “Here, use mine.”
“Thanks, Betty.”
He made a quick call then handed the phone back.
“Now, we wait,” he said, sitting back down. “My guys said they wouldn’t be long.”
“I’m sure they won’t,” Betty said, laughing. “As soon as you told your folks the FBI was here, they probably ran for their cars.”
“As did yours,” Lance said with a grin.
“Your cover is fantastic,” Betty said. “We looked into your background hard but didn’t find any red flags.”
“Our guys are good with cover stories,” Lance said. “You’re not bad yourself. I never would have pegged you as FBI.”
“Thanks. Do you really surf?”
“Every chance I get,” he said. “But not as much as I’d like.”
“Maybe you could teach me,” Betty said.
“You got it. And your first lesson can be in California in a couple of days.”
“Really?” Betty said.
“Absolutely. Right after we get to his lab and wrap up the final details, we’ll pose for pictures. Then I’ll take you surfing.”
“What?”
“Yeah, our buddy Georgio has already given me the location of where he makes the stuff,” Lance said. “Haven’t you, Georgio?”
“Go to hell,” Georgio said, then winced and rubbed his arm.
“I think we should put Georgio in front of his lab in cuffs with us standing on either side of him,” Lance said.
“I doubt if the people we work for would approve. It could blow our cover.”
“It could,” he said. “But the photos are for my scrapbook. Emerson loved having photos from all the golf courses he’d played. I like having at least one from each case I’ve worked on. It’ll be something to look at in my old age when I’m sitting on the porch with my grandkids.”
“What a great idea. I should start doing that,” Betty said, then seemed to remember there were other people in the room. “Oh, I’m sorry. Let’s see. Mr. and Mrs. Peccati, you can leave anytime you like. Chef Claire, you and Josie are also free to go. You too, Natalie.”
“We’re leaving in the morning,” Josie said.
“Marco and Rosa, you live here,” Lance said. “But just for the record, don’t try to go anywhere.”
“We didn’t do anything,” Rosa said.
“Let’s hope not,” Lance said.
“I could use a drink,” Josie said. “You want to head into town before the circus arrives?”
“You read my mind,” Chef Claire said.
“Natalie? You feel like joining us?” Josie said.
“As long as it’s someplace with vodka,” Natalie said, then glared down at Georgio. “I hope you rot in prison.”
“I like his chances,” Chef Claire said, then glanced at Marco and Rosa. “We’ll see you guys later tonight or in the morning before we leave.”
“I’ll make breakfast,” Marco said.
“What are we having?” Josie said.
“Just walk,” Chef Claire said, gently shoving her toward the door. “So, will we be seeing you later, Betty?”
“Uh, probably not. I’ll be interviewing Inspector Psycho and doing paperwork for the next couple of days. But I’ll see you next time I’m back in Clay Bay.”
“Which won’t be long, right?” Chef Claire said.
“That would be my guess. Enjoy the rest of your trip and be safe.”
“Thanks,” Chef Claire said. “See you later, Lance.”
“Yeah, take care,” he said, waving. “May all the waves you catch be righteous.”
“Whatever,” Chef Claire said. “Okay, I think we better call a taxi. I have a feeling I’m going to need more than one glass of wine.”
“Way ahead of you,” Josie said, ending the call and putting her phone away. “Let’s wait outside.”
Josie waved goodbye to everyone then continued toward the door. She stopped next to Georgio who continued to gently massage his broken arm. Chef Claire also came to a stop and looked down at him.
“Sorry about your arm, Georgio,” she said. “But you were trying to kill us.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I would have done the same thing,” he said.
“Why were you trying to kill us?” Chef Claire said.
“When things start to unravel, make sure you take care of all the loose ends,” Georgio said with a shrug. He noticed Josie staring down at him. “You got something to say?”
“Thanks again for the pasta maker,” Josie deadpanned.
“Bite me.”
“Harsh,” she said over her shoulder as she headed for the door.
Chapter 25
A little worse for wear, Chef Claire finished the last of her cappuccino and admired the view. The wind was up and producing a chop of white across the dark blue surface of the water.
“It sure is beautiful,” Chef Claire said to no one in particular.
“I don’t know what we’ll do if we lose this place,” Rosa said, following Chef Claire’s eyes.
“How did Commissario Bruno react last night?” Chef Claire said.
“I don’t think he was very happy,” Marco said, pushing his plate away before sitting back in his chair.
“He cleared two murders and still wasn’t happy?” Josie said.
“Oh, he was happy about that,” Marco said. “It was the other thing that bothered him.”
“Like finding out the FBI and CIA were here without anybody knowing it?” Josie said.
“Yeah, that thing,” Marco said, then chuckled and shook his head.
“I take it he was angry,” Chef Claire said.
“Well, if he was, he didn’t show it,” Marco said. “It was more like he was…what’s the word I’m looking for, Rosa?”
“Resigned,” she said. “He seemed resigned.”
“Ah, the long arm of the U.S. government,” Josie said.
“How did you leave it with Betty and Lance?” Chef Claire said.
“It sounded like they believed us when we told them we had nothing to do with what Georgio was up to. Lance was satisfied just getting his hands on him,” Marco said. “But Betty might be a different matter.”
“How so?” Chef Claire said.
“She said there’s a possibility we could get caught up in Georgio’s financial schemes if her bosses decide to go down that path,” Rosa said.
“But you could fight it, right?” Chef Claire said.
“We could,” Marco said. “And we’d probably try. But it would be very expensive.”
“Lawyers,” Josie said, shaking her head. “What a mess.”
“The only thing that might save us is the fact the Italian government, according to Commissario Bruno, didn’t know what the FBI and CIA were doing,” Rosa said. “It might be enough for the Feds not to pursue the financials.”
“If the Italian government starts making noises about uninvited visitors?” Chef Claire said.
“Yeah,” Marco said. “Betty said her boss, some guy named Agent Tompkins, is very ambitious.”
“Based on listening to her last night, she’s got some serious career aspirations of her own,” Josie said.
“She does,” Rosa said. “And since capturing Georgio is such a huge win for the Bureau, Betty said Agent Tompkins will probably do everything he can to avoid any blowback that might taint the good publicity they’re going to get.”
“Blowback like the Italian ambassador going on cable news voicing his displeasure?” Chef Claire said.
“At a minimum,” Marco said.
“It sounds like Betty is going to do what she can to help you out,” Chef Claire said.
“I think she is,” Marco said. “And if we don’t have to pay back Georgio’s three million, we just might make it. Especially if we sell the winery.”
“Are you still thinking about putting a restaurant here?” Chef Claire said.
“We are,” Rosa said. “But restaurants are so much work. And we really don�
�t want to start working fifteen hours a day again. This was supposed to be our exit ramp into retirement.”
“Yeah, the last thing we want is to get back on the freeway,” Marco said.
“Find a partner who’s young and hungry,” Chef Claire said.
“Like you?” Marco said, raising an eyebrow.
“Not a chance,” Chef Claire said, then grinned. “I’m not that young, and I’m certainly not hungry.”
“I would hope not,” Josie deadpanned. “You just polished off half a frittata.”
“Really?” Chef Claire said, glancing over at her. “You’re talking about how much I eat?”
“It was just an observation.”
“What can I say? Capturing psychotic inventors always makes me hungry.”
“Oh, good one,” Josie said, nodding as she focused on Marco and Rosa. “But I think Chef Claire is onto something. Find a partner who can cook and wants to own a piece of a restaurant. It can’t be that hard.”
“Harder than you think,” Marco said. “Especially given what happened with our last investor.”
“No kidding,” Rosa said. “And it could take a long time to find the right person. You know, someone we can trust.”
“I’m not so sure I agree with you guys,” Chef Claire said.
“You have somebody in mind?” Marco said.
“I do,” Chef Claire said, then pointed across the veranda where Donato and Maria Peccati were struggling with their bags. “You’ve been eating their food all week, so you know how good it is. And since they’re talking about opening their own place, they probably have some working capital. And they could even keep their catering operation going based out of here.”
Marco and Rosa stared at each other as they gave the idea some thought.
“What do you think?” Marco said.
“It’s certainly worth a conversation,” Rosa said, getting to her feet and extending her arms. “Give me a hug.”
She gave Chef Claire a long embrace then held her by the shoulders.
“It was so good seeing you, Chef Claire,” Rosa said. “We’re so proud of you. And I’m sorry about what was going on around here.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Chef Claire said. “It could have ended a lot worse.”
