Chicken Caccia-Killer (A Jordan McAllister Mystery) (15 page)

Hearing the sadness in his voice, she decided to tell him about what she’d learned snooping around. “I’ve been interviewing several of the vendors at the fairgrounds, and I may have heard something that might help. It’s probably nothing, but maybe Kate’s lawyer can use it somehow.”

“At this point, anything will help. Hamilton has nothing that might constitute reasonable doubt.” He stopped to clear his throat, but not before Jordan heard the concern in his voice. “At any rate, I’ve missed you and seven o’clock can’t come fast enough for me. You can tell me all about your new information at the restaurant. Wear something that makes me think twice about neglecting you again. And come hungry.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Moreland. This may cost you a week’s salary,” she teased, hearing her stomach growl right then at the mention of food. “I missed lunch today.”

He laughed out loud. “That’s got to be a first. I’ll lay odds you had a couple of Ho Hos, though.”

“Maybe just a couple, but I’m still going to put a crimp in your budget tonight.”

“I’m counting on it,” he said. “I need a certain redheaded Irish girl to cheer me up, so be ready at seven.”

She hung up, closed the manila folder with two of the recipes and her notes, and shoved them into the top drawer. She had two recipes ready to go and she was taking the other two home to work on making them print ready.

Halfway to the exit, she doubled back to retrieve them. No way she’d take a chance on Loretta sneaking back up to the newsroom and going through her notes. As the woman had said, “game on”, and she intended to show her just how well two could play.

After pulling the folder from the drawer, she placed it in the bottom one and locked it. Dropping the key into her purse, she headed for home. She was going to find something fantastic in her closet to ensure that Alex kept his eyes on her the entire night. Maybe if he was distracted enough he wouldn’t notice how much snooping she’d actually done.

* * * * *

Seated near the window overlooking a beautiful water fountain, Jordan stole a glance Alex’s way. She really had missed him these past few days. His turquoise golf shirt made his smoky black eyes pop, and his khaki-colored slacks only accentuated his small waist and perfect butt. She had to admit, Alex Moreland was a “head turner,” as her friend Ray always said when he saw a good looking woman. Jordan was proud to be seen with him, especially since every woman in the restaurant had watched him walk to their table.

When Alex caught her staring he smiled. “Hold that thought,” he said before winking.

She smiled back but couldn’t stop the warm rush spreading across her cheeks. Picking up the menu, she flipped straight to the desserts, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “Oh look, they have tiramisu. I love that.”

“Oh, no you don’t. You have to eat something more substantial before you get dessert, young lady. You told me on the phone you haven’t had anything to eat except a Ho Ho or two.” He stared into her eyes. “I need to get your energy level up for later.”

She tried not to blush again but couldn’t help it. She was twenty-eight years old, for God’s sake.

Of course, Alex picked up on it and teased her unmercifully until the waiter finally appeared to take their order, basically saving her. Truth be known, though, she loved it when he teased her. It reminded her of growing up with her four older brothers and made her wish she lived a little closer to Amarillo.

But that would bring up a whole new set of problems for her. They still saw her as their baby sister, and like in high school, she was certain they would intimidate all her potential dates. If they had their way she’d be locked away in some secluded convent right now—with a chastity belt.

After she and Alex ordered, they made small talk until their salads arrived. When the waiter walked away, Alex picked up his fork, and said, “On the phone you said something about finding information that might help Kate.”

Jordan wiped her mouth with the linen napkin. “I did.” She took a second to search her brain for the right words so he wouldn’t realize she’d been meddling. And she had to be careful not to mention that his mother had been right there with her while she was doing it. “Did you know that Emilio’s wife had a fling with Marco Petrone?” When he didn’t react, she hit him with the rest of what she’d heard. “And that apparently after Marco tired of her, he tossed her away?”

His eyes widened, and he put down the fork. “Who told you that?”

“The woman I interviewed for my column first told me about it, and then Georgette Calabrese’s son himself confirmed it.”

“Emilio has a son?”

“Stepson,” Jordan clarified. “His name’s Frankie O’Brien, and he’s in his twenties. Anyway, he said that he and Marco weren’t friends, but then he let it slip that they’d been business partners. When I called him on it, he denied saying that, but I know what I heard. When I mentioned he and Marco were about to be related, that’s when he blurted out about his mother sleeping with his stepsister’s fiancé.”

The interest in Alex eyes spurred her on. “And we heard Georgette talking to him when we approached. She told him that with Marco out of the way, it was a good time for him to stand up and impress Emilio with his business skills.” She paused. “Okay, I’m paraphrasing here, but it sounded like they saw Marco’s death as a way for Frankie to step up and show Emilio that he’s capable of running the show.”

“We?”

Jordan mentally slapped her head for that slip up. After everything she’d just told him, what were the odds that he’d pick up on that one little word? She was never any good at thinking on her feet, and now was no different. “Your mother and me.”

“My mother knows this and didn’t tell me?”

Jordan crossed her fingers under the table and hoped he wouldn’t hold it against her for lying. But she’d promised Natalie she wouldn’t tell in case Georgette decided to blab about her teenage love affair with Emilio.

“Remember when your mother went with me to the fairgrounds so you and Kate could take a nap after you got back from the police station?” When he nodded, she continued, “Well, she was off talking to someone else when I overheard Georgette and Frankie talking, and I didn’t want to mention it to her until I had a chance to talk to you.”

Please God, overlook this one little lie
.

She watched Alex’s face, relieved to see he had bought into it.

“So Georgette and Marco were lovers at one time. Hamilton will have a field day with that. And her son trying to find a way to impress Emilio makes me think that maybe Emilio was showing favoritism toward Marco and perhaps even considering him as his heir apparent.”

“Exactly,” Jordan interjected. “According to the lady I interviewed, Emilio thought his stepson was a loser and wanted him as far away from the business as possible. But with Marco dead, there’s no one else in the family to take over. To me, that’s a pretty good reason for wanting Marco out of the way.”

Alex’s lips curled into a smile. “Don’t get carried away, Jordan. I’ll admit that it does cast a nice net for reasonable doubt, but it’s a far cry from proving anything.”

“I thought introducing reasonable doubt was all Hamilton had to do. No jury in good conscience could convict Kate of the murder if they think there’s a possibility someone else may have pushed Marco over the railing.”

Alex reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “It is, love, and Jeff will be glad you got this information, but I’m wondering why he doesn’t already know all this. As Emilio’s lawyer, he’d have to be aware that his boss didn’t intend to pass on his business to his stepson. As for Georgette having an extramarital affair, Hamilton may have known about that, too. Hell, Emilio himself might even know about it.” He paused and rubbed his free hand across his forehead as if in deep thought. “Come to think of it, the night of the party, I remember Emilio cautioning Marco about his womanizing ways. Maybe that’s what he was referring to.”

“Or maybe he and Georgette had one of those open marriages where anything goes.”

“Even if that were true, I can’t see Emilio looking past his son-in-law sleeping with his wife.” He released her hand and took a sip of his Scotch. “I wonder if Tina knows.”

“Oh my God! I forgot to tell you about Tina.”

“What about her?” Alex eyeballed her suspiciously. “I have a sneaky feeling you didn’t get all this information from innocently doing interviews.”

Crap
! She had to come up with a good story—and fast.

“I went back over there to try to talk the woman I had interviewed earlier into giving up her recipes for my column.” Jordan leaned across the table and licked her lips. “Yum! You should taste Carlita’s Italian Cream Cake Balls, Alex. They almost melt in your mouth.”

“I should’ve known there was sugar involved.”

Jordan ignored that remark and pressed on. “I took Victor with me to interview Carlita’s sister who makes the best chicken cacciatore I’ve ever tasted. Anyway, she took a liking to Victor and told him she’d seen another woman follow Kate up to Marco’s bedroom suite that night.”

“This was one of the vendors at the party?”

“Yes and no. She is a vendor for the festival, but that night she was a guest. Apparently, she’s part of the planning committee. Anyway, she saw another women go up the staircase with Marco right before he fell to his death.”

“Did the vendor tell you who this other woman was?” Alex voice couldn’t hide his increasing hope.

“She did. It was Tina Calabrese. And since Kate insists that Marco was already up there when she arrived, it must have been another man with her.”

He raised his glass to hers and clinked. “Now you’re talking reasonable doubt.” He motioned for the waiter, and when he arrived at the table, he said, “Can you bring this woman the biggest piece of tiramisu you can find in the kitchen?”

The waiter looked confused. “You mean after the meal, right?”

Alex shook his head. “No. Bring it now, please, and add a smaller piece for me. We’re celebrating.”

If it wouldn’t have made a big scene, Jordan would have jumped up and kissed him right there. Instead, she settled for an air kiss and mouthed
I owe you
.

“Oh, yes you do, and I intend to collect,” he replied before reaching for his phone which had begun to vibrate in his pocket. “Moreland,” he said into the speaker, his eyes still staring at her and sending shivers up her spine for what they promised was to come later that night.

Jordan watched his face grow serious.

“Mother, calm down, and tell me exactly what he said.”

Jordan waited patiently, her overactive imagination going wild with the possibilities of what had Natalie so upset.

Finally, Alex clicked off the phone and looked up at her.

“Jeff called Kate at the concert in Dallas. The Plainville police are waiting to talk to her tonight. My sister is no longer a person of interest. She’s a full-blown suspect. And if we don’t get some hard evidence to clear her name soon, she could very soon be an accused murderer on her way to jail.”

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

With the desserts in takeout containers, they left the restaurant before Alex had time to explain any further details. Once in the car, Jordan stole a glance his way. The concern that she’d seen earlier on his face had now turned into fear, and she felt helpless.

When they were on the Interstate on their way home, she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Alex? What does all this mean?”

He swallowed hard, his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. “I’m not sure. We expected the DNA scrapings to prove Kate had scratched Marco before his death. That’s enough to bring her back for further questioning, but it’s not sufficient to actually charge her with his murder. She admitted scratching him in self defense when he threw her on the bed. Couple that with the injury to her face, and it should have been enough to keep the cops at bay.” He shook his head. “They’ve got to have something else.”

“What?”

A tense silence filled the car. “I don’t know. I’m racking my brain for what it could be, but I keep coming up empty. Except for the DNA, there’s really nothing else that suggests Kate was anywhere near Marco when he fell over the railing.”

Just then his phone rang, and he dug it out of his shirt pocket. “Moreland.” For a few minutes he listened intently before he finally said, “That’s not what the guy said that night.”

Jordan tried but couldn’t figure out what that could mean. After another few minutes, Alex hung up and turned slightly to meet her gaze for a moment before focusing back on the highway.

“That was Jeff Hamilton. He got a call from Captain Darnell about an hour ago. Do you remember Darnell telling us that when they’d initially questioned the hotel valet he said he’d been standing in the middle of the driveway and looked up when he heard screams?” When she nodded, he continued “At first, he told the police he was too far away to see much of anything.”

“I remember,” she replied. “He said he only saw a shadow.”

“Well, apparently, he’s changed his story. He’s now saying that since he’s had time to think about it, he distinctly remembers looking up at the balcony and seeing a woman, although he’s unable to positively ID anyone.”