Murder Most Finicky (23 page)

“He did.”

“Personally?”

“Yes. I figured he'd finally gotten sick of Pierre and wanted some new blood in the fold.” She made a face. “I didn't realize how crazy he was, too.”

“He didn't tell you Pierre was dead?”

Vaughn shook her head slowly. “Nope.”

Great detail to leave out. “Why are you in New York instead of Rhode Island?”

“Because someone else called me right before I got on the plane and told me . . . what happened. What was going on. Said I should avoid the whole thing like the plague.”

“Who?” Stan asked.

Vaughn hesitated. “I don't really want to say. If it gets back to Sheldon, I'm sure there'll be consequences, but this person was trying to help me.”

“If you tell us, it might help us,” Jessie said. “We're certainly not going to tell Sheldon anything, but the police could pull your phone records.”

Vaughn sighed. “There's simply no privacy anymore,” she told Gaston, who wagged in agreement. “It was Joaquin Leroy.”

“Joaquin?” Stan asked, surprised.

“I know, he's usually crazy loyal to Sheldon. But he's fond of me. We've worked on some projects together long distance over this past year, so even though we've never met in person, he knows me. He tries to salvage what's left of my sanity and figured this wouldn't be good for me.”

Stan thought about that. Joaquin had certainly done a good job of convincing her he was worried about Vaughn's whereabouts. Was he that worried about her safety, or was there another reason he didn't want her involved?

Melanie checked her watch. “What else, ladies? I have plans.”

“Were you putting together a campaign to discredit Sheldon?” Stan asked.

Melanie chuckled. “Please don't insult my intelligence that way. I have serious clients, not clients who belong in the
National Enquirer
.”

Good enough. “One more thing. Who worked with you on the statement? Who gave you the information that Pierre died and that Vaughn was missing?” Stan asked.

“Pierre's brother,” Melanie said. “He called me early Saturday and asked me to prepare a statement. Said he'd seen my name on something relating to Pierre and asked for help. Said he worried that something strange was going on, given the two missing people.”

“Pierre has a brother?”

Melanie shrugged. “Guess he had a whole family he didn't like to acknowledge.”

And he'd told Greta his family was dead. She turned to Vaughn. “What are you going to do?”

Vaughn shrugged. “Lie low, I guess, until this is solved.”

Stan frowned. “Are you afraid for your life?”

“I don't know what to be, honestly,” Vaughn said. “I just know that every time I get mixed up with Sheldon or Pierre, my life totally unravels. And this time I don't want to watch it happen.”

Chapter 45

They made it onto the nine o'clock Metro-North train seconds before the doors
whooshed
closed behind them. Stan sank gratefully into the first seat she saw. Gaston jumped up onto the seat beside her. Jessie dropped into the one facing them. Luckily their car was empty. Stan certainly didn't feel like dealing with other people right now. And Jessie often felt that way. They were silent for a few minutes. Then they both looked at each other.

“Yikes,” Stan said at the exact same moment Jessie said, “Wow.”

Stan smiled. “Welcome to the world of gourmet food, I guess?”

Jessie shook her head. “It's beyond me who would want to live like that. No offense,” she added.

“None taken.” Stan didn't point out that many people wouldn't want to live in Jessie's world, one full of guns and danger and criminals. “So Pierre had a brother. I wonder how long it's been since he's seen this long-lost family.”

“Interesting,” Jessie said. “And I wonder if the people showing up at Melanie's door are the people who showed up at the bakery. Maybe they're trying to get whatever Pierre owed them from every known associate. That's how those thugs work.”

“If they're the same people, they're related to one of the other chefs. There could be a threat thing going on.”

Jessie sighed. “I should've guessed.” They fell silent, lost in their own thoughts.

“Listen. About Gaston here,” Jessie said. The dog's ears perked up at his name.

“Yeah. He's cute, right? I feel bad for him.” Stan rubbed the dog's nose. He gazed adoringly at her, apparently content despite this new adventure. “I have to call Nikki.” She pulled her phone out.

Her friend answered right before it went to voice mail, sounding harried. “Hey.”

“Hey, Nik. Sorry to bother you. I need help.”

“What's wrong? Canine, feline, or corpse?”

That almost got Stan to smile. “No corpse. Canine. I had to rescue a dog tonight. We're on the train back from New York.”

“New York? I thought you were in Rhode Island. Hold on.” The sound of barking grew louder, then silenced. “Sorry. So what happened?”

“I had to go to New York today. Jessie came with me. The dead chef's dog was living in his bakery and the Health Department was about to shut it down. His name is Gaston. He's neutered, about five years old, an Australian shepherd or a mix.”

“God, I hate people.” Nikki blew out a frustrated breath. Stan could see her raking her hands through her short hair, causing it to stand up in spikes. “So you took him. Nice job, Connor. I taught you well. You need a place to put him?”

“Yes.”

“What about your house?”

“Are you kidding? If I keep taking in animals I'm going to have to build an addition. Remember when I had one cat? And tomorrow's that stupid dinner at the mansion.”

“Okay. I'll come get him.”

“You will? You're the best, Nik.”

“You can keep him tonight?”

“I'll smuggle him into the hotel. Shouldn't be a problem. I already have a cat in there.”

She thanked Nikki and hung up.

Jessie wore an amused smile and shook her head. “You need to get back to Rhode Island tonight, though.”

“I do.”

“And Amtrak doesn't allow dogs.”

“No. Guess I'll have to rent a car to get back.”

“At this hour?”

Stan glanced at her phone. Jessie had a good point. “Shoot.”

Jessie's look said
Maybe you should have thought of that before you took the dog on the train,
but mercifully her mouth didn't. “Hang on.” She pulled her own phone out of her pocket and pressed some buttons. “Hey,” she said when the other party answered. “Sorry to wake you up. Yeah, I'm fine. I just . . . had to help Stan with something. You feel like taking a drive? Good. Meet me at the station in New Haven in two hours and I'll tell you the rest.” She ended the call.

Stan frowned. “Who was that?”

“Marty.”

Stan grinned. Jessie and Marty Thompson, who owned a local moving company, had become an item this past spring. Jessie didn't talk much about her personal life. Stan sensed she hadn't had much of one outside her daughter in a long time. This was good news. “How's that going?”

“Fine,” Jessie said, but Stan could see the blush traveling up her neck.

“I would say better than fine. He's doing your bidding at two in the morning.”

“Yeah, well, he's a night owl. So here's the deal. Marty's going to meet me at the train station. You can take my car to Rhode Island with the dog. I'll come get it tomorrow.”

“Are you sure? That's a lot to ask. On top of what you just did.”

“Of course I'm sure. I called Marty, didn't I?”

Stan grinned. “Yes. Yes, you did. You going to tell anyone Vaughn's okay?”

“I have a civic duty to let the police know.” She paused. “That doesn't mean they should make it public. I'll tell them she feels threatened. They'll keep it under wraps.”

“What a crazy story. I don't know whom to believe.”

“Sounds like they all have their flaws,” Jessie said. “Like the rest of us.”

“Yeah.” Stan dropped her head back and closed her eyes. “Speaking of flaws, I haven't heard from my sister. I hope she's okay. After the whole police debacle and all.”

Jessie turned her head to look out the window on the other side of the train. Stan couldn't see her face when she spoke. “I understand how she feels.”

“Hmmm?” Stan tried hard to stay awake, only half listening.

“I said I know how she feels. It stinks.”

Stan opened her eyes and glanced at Jessie sideways, suddenly aware there had been a shift in Jessie's tone. It wasn't über-cop right now. It was . . . a regular woman. One who sounded sad.

“What do you mean?” Stan asked.

Jessie was silent for a while, then turned back to face Stan. “I was in your sister's situation a few years ago. Minus the murder suspect part.”

Stan tried to keep her mouth from dropping open. “You . . . What situation?”

“I was married, and seeing a married man,” Jessie said simply. “I totally knew better, and I did it anyway, and then everything blew up. As it should, right? I mean, no one should ever expect to get away with that.”

A Twilight Zone-like feeling had settled over their train car. Stan thought maybe she'd fallen asleep and couldn't wake up. This was not like Jessie. Jake's sister was all business, all the time. It was one of the most admirable, if not annoying, qualities about her. And since she didn't let anyone really get to know her, it was one of the only things Stan had to admire.

Until now.

“What happened?” she asked, trying not to break the mood.

“Lily was almost two. I'd had a really hard time after she was born. I lived down by the shore and worked on a local police force. I came back on dispatch after my leave and worked nights so I didn't have to leave Lily during the day. But I was bored. I love being a cop, and I wasn't doing what I loved. Every time a call came in I wanted to run out and deal with it and I couldn't. So when I was home with her in the mornings, I was drinking. A lot. It was ... not good.”

Riveted, Stan stayed silent, afraid if she interrupted her Jessie would never finish the story. But she remembered when she'd first gotten to Frog Ledge and Jessie wouldn't even set foot in Jake's bar. Here was the story behind it.

“I met Tim when he was assigned to a task force working with some of our cops. They were investigating a child prostitution ring. I weaseled my way into some of the work. My boss knew I missed it and let me work some overtime with the force. I loved it. I immersed myself in it. And I started spending a lot of time with Tim.” She shook her head. “One thing led to another, as it always does. And then I didn't know how to stop it. Hell, I didn't want to stop it, honestly. He was exciting and smart and a good cop and we had so much in common. My ex is a financial advisor.” She wrinkled her nose. “Guess your sister and I have something in common.”

No wonder Jessie hadn't been enthused about her from the start, seeing as she came from the same boring industry.

Jessie finally cracked a smile. “No, I didn't hold that against you,” she said, reading her mind.

Stan burst out laughing. “You're totally lying.”

“Well, maybe a little.” Jessie sobered. “But seriously. I didn't belong with a person like that. He's not a bad guy, just not my speed.”

“And you think Jake's going to be in the same boat with someone like me.” Stan's gaze dropped to her lap. She hadn't realized how much she didn't want to hear Jessie's real opinion of her. Jake and his sister definitely had their differences and issues, but she knew he respected what she thought.

But she wasn't prepared for Jessie's reaction. “Are you freakin' kidding me?” Good thing there was no one else in their car to hear her shriek.

“What?”

“I said, are you freakin' kidding me? You're nothing like my ex.”

“I don't know him, so I can't comment. But I lived in that world.”

“Yeah, but you lived in it differently,” Jessie said. “Doing media relations is not the same thing as advising people on decisions that could financially make or break them. The ego involved in that job . . .” She shook her head. “Anyway, not what I was saying. I actually think you're good for my brother.”

“You do?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Come on, Jessie. Half the time I don't know if you even like me.”

Jessie narrowed her eyes. “You think I'd be schlepping around New York City at this hour with you, chasing down crazy cooking people who belong in a canceled reality show, if I didn't like you?”

Stan shrugged, feeling her face redden. “I figured Jake put you up to it.”

“You're a dope.” Jessie put her feet up on the bench and crossed her arms in front of her.

But now that she had her talking, Stan wanted to know. “You heard about my sister. Is that why you wanted to help?”

Jessie nodded slowly, still facing front. “I wanted to help because I understand the situation she's in. It could easily have happened to me. But I also wanted to help you. And no, not just for my brother. You've kinda grown on me.”

Stan smiled a little at that. “Same here,” she said. A beat, then she asked, “What happened to Tim?”

Jessie shook her head and glanced out the train window to watch the darkness rushing by. “He finished his assignment and left. Last I heard he went back to Georgia or somewhere down south.” She shrugged, and Stan swore her eyes were wet. “Those kinds of things? They never work out.”