Grounds for Murder (16 page)

‘Really?’

‘Nah.’ He had started to pour a bag of ice into the cooler behind the bar and straightened up. ‘Seemed like that guy always was giving someone shit.’

‘Like who?’ I asked curiously. ‘The people who work here?’

‘Pretty much everybody. Me and the other bartenders, Penny, the catering manager, the suppliers, the people trying to set up their booths. See that guy over there?’

I followed the direction he was pointing. Levitt Fredericks had just walked in the door. ‘The tall guy?’ I asked, just to make sure.

‘Yeah, I thought he was going to kill him the other day.’

‘That Levitt was going to kill him?’ I tried to keep my voice down, but I was excited. It was a relief to know I was on the right track.

But the bartender – his nametag said George – looked confused. ‘I thought his name was “LayRochay”. French or something.’

Something. ‘No, I meant Levitt Fredericks,’ I clarified. ‘He’s the tall gray-haired man you just pointed at.’

George wiped at the bar. ‘I have to take your word for it that’s his name. But it was the other guy, the guy that was killed, who was threatening the old guy.’

Wait a second. Marvin LaRoche was angry at Levitt Fredericks? That didn’t track. ‘Did you hear what they were arguing about?’

‘Just this LayRochay guy telling your friend to “stay away from her”.’ George shrugged. ‘Listen, it’s six thirty. I gotta open up here.’

So much for opening the bars early. My new friends, the two gray-haired women, were at the front of the line and looking daggers at me.

I thanked the bartender and started to walk away. Then I thought of something. Actually, two somethings. ‘Do you remember what night that was?’

‘Not night,’ he said, making a scotch and water. ‘It was late afternoon on Thursday. I remember because we were setting up the bars before that big opening reception of yours.’

‘Afternoon,’ I said. ‘You’re sure.’

‘Absolutemently.’ He started work on the second drink, a screwdriver.

I began to walk away again. Thursday afternoon – that was before LaRoche’s speech. Why were they arguing then? Did LaRoche attack EarthBean’s mission during that speech in retaliation for something else? Something that had started far earlier?

I turned back. ‘One last thing. Did you hear a name? The name of the woman they were talking about?’

George paused, the old ladies’ change in hand. I thought one of them – I was starting to think of them as The Pigeon Sisters – was going to leap over the bar to get it.

‘The old guy said . . .’ George closed his eyes to recall the exact words. ‘He said, “I can’t, I need her.” And the other guy, the dead guy said, “Well, she sure as hell doesn’t need you.”’ George was acting it out now, doing the voices. Even the Pigeons were transfixed.

‘And then the old guy says something like, “I’ll die without her.”’

This was way more than I expected. I should talk to bartenders more often. ‘“Her” who?’ I demanded.

George’s hand was placed dramatically over his heart and he closed his eyes. ‘He didn’t say, but then the dead guy says, “Then die.”’

There was a hush, and George opened one eye.

‘The name,’ I begged. ‘Did he say a name?’

‘Yup.’ George handed a Pigeon Sister her change. She looked loathe to leave at this point. ‘I remember it because it’s my mother’s name.’

It’s always their mother’s name. ‘And your mother’s name is?’

George popped the top off a Miller Lite for the next customer and handed it to him over the heads of the still-transfixed Pigeons.

‘Amy,’ he said, taking the bills from the beer drinker. ‘My mother’s name is Amy.’

I picked my way through the crowd toward the Crystal Ballroom. The doors would be shut until we let people in at seven thirty and I could really use some time to think.

Amy and Levitt?

Levitt had about a foot in height and thirty years in age over Amy. Not that either of those things could stop true love. Or lust.

But still . . . THUD. I’d just collided head-on with Antonio. He was looking very handsome in a dark gray suit, and under any other circumstances, I would have taken some time to enjoy it.

‘I am very sorry, Maggy. Pardon me,’ Antonio said, a twinkle in his dark eyes. ‘I was not looking where I am going.’

‘I’m afraid it was my fault, Antonio, but thank you.’

He smiled down at me. ‘I understand that you have taken over the management of Java Ho. That is very kind of you.’

‘I did it to help Janalee,’ I said honestly.

‘She will need her friends now,’ he said. ‘Her husband was a powerful business man. But he was still a man. And we men have many weaknesses.’

I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but something he said switched on a light bulb. LaRoche being human, that was it.

‘I saw you talking to him that night after the barista competition,’ I said. ‘I thought he might be crying.’

Antonio cocked his head. ‘I would be surprised at that.’

I waited a moment for him to add something. Anything. He didn’t, so I moved on to other men’s weaknesses. ‘So Antonio, have you heard anything about a relationship between Amy and Levitt Fredericks?’

A hesitation, then: ‘A gentlemen never tells,’ he said gently, but firmly.

And Antonio was a gentleman, so much so that gossiping with him was nigh impossible. Not to mention, downright humiliating. I could feel myself color-up with embarrassment at having asked the question.

‘A casual friendship, a great love.’ Antonio shrugged expressively. ‘Who are we on the outside to know?’

‘Well, OK then,’ I said, clearing my throat uncomfortably. ‘I have to check the ballroom now. You have a good time.’

And with that, I slipped through the doors.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Sarah’s fire.

‘Good news,’ she yelled across the tables when she saw me. ‘You don’t have to worry about the microphone.’

‘Great,’ I said, surveying the room set-up. Luckily, not all of the Java Ho attendees sprang for the banquet. There should be sixty rounds of eight, totaling 480 seats. I counted one row and then multiplied. Yup, all there – first obstacle hurdled.

A woman was going from table to table affixing a yellow sticker under one chair at each table. The lucky winner would get to take home the centerpiece, which was a fancy basket filled with five separate one-pound bags of coffee beans from various roasters. The roasters donated the beans as a way of showing off their coffees to the coffeehouse owners. If the owners were anything like me, though, the last thing they wanted to see by now was another pound of coffee.

Each table was covered in white linen like the trophy table had been. I wondered how much they spent on bleach in this place. The sticker-lady straightened up when she saw me. ‘Excuse me. Are you Maggy Thorsen?’

I stuck out my hand. ‘Yes, and I bet you’re Penny.’ The woman had copper-colored hair, so it was a safe guess. What wasn’t so obvious was whether the hair color or the name had come first.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Penny said, holding my hand between both of hers.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘LaRoche’s death was a shock to all of us.’

Sarah had come up to us. ‘She’s not talking about the murder.’

Uh-oh. I looked around. A thousand things could go wrong with a banquet. The tables and chairs were obviously there, and the waitresses were setting out the salads. That left the main course or . . .

‘The sound system.’ I turned to Sarah. ‘I thought you said I didn’t have to worry about the microphones.’

‘You don’t,’ she said. ‘There aren’t any.’

‘There aren’t any?’ I repeated, looking at Penny. The hair color must be natural, because her face pretty much matched it now.

‘That’s not exactly true,’ she said. ‘We do have microphones.’

‘Just nothing to plug them into,’ Sarah contributed.

‘No, no, that’s really not true either,’ Penny said, bobbing her head from side to side. ‘The problem is that anything spoken into the microphone here, is broadcast throughout the entire building, for some reason.’

The entire building was not my problem. ‘I think we can live with that,’ I said pleasantly. ‘Then people in the bathroom won’t have to miss any of the speeches.’ You can run, but you can’t hide.

‘Well, see –’ Penny tugged at her nose – ‘Java Ho isn’t the only function in the building.’

‘But it’s the biggest function, right?’ Years of doing corporate events meant I wasn’t averse to pulling rank.

‘But it’s a wedding.’ Penny looked like she was going to cry. ‘They’re just the nicest young couple.’

Yeah, well nineteen and a half years of marriage would cure that, take it from me. ‘So what can we do to fix this?’ I asked in the spirit of cooperation.

Penny shot me a grateful look. ‘We have a portable sound system we can bring in.’

‘Is it powerful enough for this room?’ We were talking about a pretty big space with high ceilings.

‘It has two huge speakers. We can position one on each side of the stage. Our engineer is bringing them up now.’

‘Good,’ I said, looking at the lectern centered on the stage. ‘Will the system tie into the microphone on the lectern?’

‘I believe so,’ Penny said, ‘but here’s our engineer now. He can tell you for sure.’

The engineer, a man of about forty-five with salt and pepper hair, left the flat bed truck he’d just rolled in and came over to us.

‘Mike,’ Penny said, ‘this is Maggy Thorsen. She was asking if the sound system will use the lectern microphone.’

‘It will,’ he said.

Out of nowhere, Sarah jumped in. ‘My only concern is that if you turn your head while you’re speaking, the fixed directional mic doesn’t pick you up.’

I turned to look at her in amazement. The speechmaker finally surfaces. And apparently Sarah had found someone who spoke her own language. It didn’t hurt that he was good-looking and wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

‘You’re right,’ Mike agreed with a smile. ‘Lavalieres would be better, because they pin on your lapel.’

He nodded at Sarah, who actually had a lapel. I looked down at my dress. A pin-on microphone would absolutely ruin my outfit. Not to mention that a Lavaliere – like the one I’d had on for the aborted finals of the barista competition – has that pesky wire snaked through under your clothes to connect to the pack on your belt.

You guessed it: no belt.

And no one was going to be snaking anything up under my dress unless it was Pavlik.

Happily, I didn’t plan on doing much talking anyway.

‘The problem with the Lavs,’ Mike was saying to Sarah, who looked fascinated, ‘is they’re not compatible with the portable sound system we have to use. I assume you’re one of the speakers?’

Sarah nodded; if it weren’t Sarah, I would have said she did so demurely.

The engineer moved over to her. ‘The speeches are at what time?’

‘The sooner the better,’ I said, and they both looked at me like I’d crashed a private party. ‘Probably eight fifteen, eight thirty,’ I added lamely.

Mike looked back at Sarah. ‘Tell you what I can do for you. After I set this up, I’ll hook you up with the Lav.’

‘We have another speaker, too,’ I interjected, waving my hand like I was asking permission to speak. ‘Levitt Fredericks.’

Mike turned and Sarah mouthed, ‘Butt out’ to me, behind his back.

‘No,’ I said.

Mike looked confused. ‘No?’

‘I meant no one else, just Sarah and Levitt.’

‘Then I can wire up both of them. The Lavs won’t work with the portable system, but if I get whatever is crossed uncrossed before your speeches, you’ll be all set to go.’

He looked at Sarah. ‘I’ll just give you the high sign.’

‘I’d like that,’ Sarah said.

That was it. I was going to puke. ‘He wasn’t talking about that high sign,’ I told Sarah. ‘And Mike, thank you for whatever you can do.’

Penny, seeing we were in handsome hands, had gone back to her stickers. ‘It’s seven twenty-five,’ I called to her. ‘Will we be ready to open the doors in five minutes?’

She straightened up. ‘We’re ready if you’re ready.’

I was ready all right. Ready to get this over with. But like I said, be careful what you wish for.

Chapter Eighteen

The first shock of the evening was that Janalee was there.

The second shock was that Davy wasn’t.

When I saw Janalee, I flagged her down and asked her to sit with us at the head table.

‘You belong here,’ I pointed out when she hesitated. ‘You would have sat here before. You should sit here now.’

‘I wouldn’t be too sure,’ she said, with a little smile. ‘Marvin said if I brought Davy, I was going to be relegated to a table at the back of the room.’

‘Is that why you didn’t bring the baby?’ I asked. ‘Because Marvin asked you not to, before he died?’ I thought that was sweet on Janalee’s part, and understandable on LaRoche’s. Babies don’t belong at banquets. They should be home having fun like the rest of us want to be.

‘Truthfully?’ Janalee said the word like it was a real question, not just a segue or a figure of speech.

I nodded.

She leaned in. ‘I had every intention of bringing Davy just to irritate Marvin.’ She gave a little giggle and then quickly covered her mouth, looking around to see if anyone had heard. ‘It was my way of keeping him in line,’ she added in a whisper.

I liked that. And I liked Janalee – even if she did seem a little tipsy tonight. God knows I’d be drinking if I were in her place. ‘So why didn’t you bring Davy then?’

‘It was a silly little game I played,’ she said with a little sigh. ‘It just didn’t seem so important anymore.’

Geez. I didn’t even like LaRoche and this was getting me choked up. Any minute now I’d be referring to him as Marvin.

Nah.

‘There’s Amy,’ Janalee said, pointing. ‘Do you think we have room for her at the table?’

I did a quick calculation. Janalee, Levitt, Sarah, me. We still had half a table to fill. ‘Of course.’ I waved at Amy, who had stopped to talk to Antonio, and signaled that they both should join us.

As they approached, I scanned the room for other people to invite to the table. Jerome was at the far end of the hall taping. Kate still seemed to be overseeing him, which made me a little nervous. Without a barista competition, I imagined she was there as a reporter. And like I said, that made me nervous.