Chicken Caccia-Killer (A Jordan McAllister Mystery) (14 page)

“You said to compliment her. Guess some women don’t appreciate it as much as others.”

Jordan narrowed her eyes in confusion. “You complimented her and she got mad at you?”

“Yes, and I have to tell you, Jordan, no more taking one for the team with that nut case.”

“So what exactly did you say to her?”

“I complimented her about her face.”

Jordan remembered thinking the woman had really dry skin and hoped Victor hadn’t mentioned that. “Tell me exactly what you said to her—word for word.”

“I told her I liked her mustache.”

Jordan couldn’t help herself and burst out laughing. Before long, Victor was laughing with her.

“I really liked it. You know how long I’ve been trying to grow a good one like Tom Selleck’s? Well, she had the beginnings of the perfect one.”

That brought more laughter, doubling Jordan over. “You clod. That is the worst thing you could ever say to a woman. It’s like telling a guy you like his man boobs.”

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked, causing another outburst of laughter.

When Jordan thought her sides would split, she finally pulled herself together. “I guess that means you didn’t find out who the other woman was?”

He gave her a Groucho Marx eyebrow wiggle. “You underestimate me, my red-headed friend.”

She turned completely to face him. “What did she say?”

“She said she had the perfect vantage point near the staircase and saw the woman who killed him go up the staircase first. Then ten minutes later, she saw another woman follow with a man she assumed was Marco.”

“Oh my God! This could really help Kate. Did she say who the other woman was?”

He grinned. “Say you’re sorry for calling me a clod.”

She slapped his shoulder playfully. “You were a clod, and I’m not sorry, but if you don’t tell me what she said I’m going to—”

“It was Tina Calabrese.”

“What? She’s sure?”

Victor grinned like the proverbial Cheshire cat. “And she said Emilio’s daughter didn’t go up those steps alone.”

Jordan completely turned in her seat to face him. “Who was with her?”

“Say you’re sorry,” he demanded.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Kate said Marco was already in the bedroom when she got there, so who was the guy?”

He pointed at her. “Gotcha. The mustache lady didn’t recognize his face, but she’d said she’s seen him around at the planning sessions, and she assumed it was Marco Petrone. And get this—she said whoever it was, the two couldn’t get up to the bedroom fast enough. I was afraid to ask what she meant by that since she was already eyeballing me like I was dinner.”

“She was sure it was Marco with Tina? ‘Cause that’s not what Kate said.”

He shrugged. “She’s never seen Marco, but she said it had to be him since it was his bedroom and he was the only guy up there.”

Jordan sighed. This was indeed a new development that might help Kate. “That’s weird, because Kate didn’t mention seeing Tina in the bedroom with her and Marco. We have to assume that the cheating scumbag put Tina in the other bedroom and planned to talk Kate into a quickie first.” She rubbed her forehead. “But Kate was adamant about Marco already being up in the bedroom when he called her. I tend to believe her. Why would he take both his fiancé and his girlfriend up to his bedroom after what had happened earlier?”

“He’s a Casanova, remember?”

“That may be true, but I still think he was already up there when Kate arrived, which means the man Ginny saw with Tina couldn’t have been Marco.” She blew her hair out of her eyes. “So who was Emilio’s daughter sneaking up to the bedroom with?”

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

Shortly after Jordan arrived at work the next day, both she and Loretta were summoned to Egan’s office. Neither said a word in the elevator, and it wasn’t until Egan’s secretary greeted them that Loretta finally broke the silence, hugging Jackie Frazier and asking about her kids.

Oh, great
! Her competitor had an ally in the editor’s office. That couldn’t be good.

Egan was on the phone when they were escorted into his office and motioned for them to sit down without glancing up. When he slammed a file folder on his desk and raised his voice a few octaves, Jordan rolled her eyes, knowing he would be in a foul mood when he hung up. She had no idea why he’d called them here in the first place, but she figured it had something to do with the Kitchen Kupboard.

She worried that he and the owner had changed their minds about giving her a chance to show them she was the right one for the job. Loretta’s little dinner with Uncle Earl and Aunt Sarah had probably been the nail on the coffin.

She felt momentary panic, waiting to hear if she was being sent back to writing the personals only.

“Heard that was quite a party the other night,” her boss began.

Jordan nodded, and Loretta simply grunted.

Egan went on, “There’s been a change in plans.”

Here we go
! Jordan braced herself for his next sentence, convinced she was on her way out as a culinary reporter.

“We’ve decided to dedicate a full page every day to the Italian Festival from now until it ends.” When neither woman reacted, he continued. “We’re running a piece in the culinary column as well as the entertainment and sports column to showcase it. To make it even more interesting I’ve decided I want the two of you to write something for the column every day. That’ll give the readers a chance to get a taste of both styles.”

“That’s asking us to do a lot of extra work,” Loretta said, matter-of-factly. “I hope you know I expect to be compensated for it.” She picked at a red tipped nail without looking at Egan.

Egan pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “You get a salary for being the culinary reporter, Loretta. Nowhere in your contract—which, by the way, was null and void when you failed to come back to your job after rehab—did it ever say how many articles you have to write every week. You should be glad for this opportunity. If it were up to me, you might not even be here. Once you gave up your position, that was it as far as I was concerned.”

Loretta’s shot out of the chair and leaned across Egan’s desk. “Thank God it isn’t up to you. I’ll show you who’s the better choice for the job, and then you’ll eat those words.” She turned to Jordan. “Game’s still on, Red.”

Jordan smiled, thinking she would be out of a job before she even finished that sentence if she talked to Egan like that. She wondered how much more of the woman’s arrogance the editor would take before he reacted.

And had she just heard him right? Did he say he was rooting for her to win the job?

Well, maybe he hadn’t said exactly that, but it sounded like he thought it was unfair that Loretta had just waltzed into his office out of the blue and demanded her old job back.

Suspecting Egan harbored at least a little animosity toward his former employee, Jordan vowed to take advantage of that and work her butt off to get good coverage of the festival. She decided to see if she could talk one of the Bruno sisters into letting her print a recipe in Saturday’s column. That way she could run another one Sunday with a recap of the weekend long festival.

She got giddy just thinking about how the readers would love that.

“So, are you okay with that?” When they both nodded, Egan continued “I’ll expect the reports on my desk before nine each morning.” He waved toward the door. “Now go work on tomorrow’s column. I have a couple of fires to put out here.” He was already picking up the phone and dialing a number when they exited his office.

“Why didn’t you speak up about the extra work, Red? We should at least get a little bonus for it,” Loretta said when the elevator door closed behind them.

“I welcome the chance to prove I’m the one for the Kitchen Kupboard. Matter of fact, I already have a few ideas about what I’m going to write about.”

Jordan stopped herself before she revealed her hand. She’d never been any good bluffing at poker when she played with her friends, but she was convinced if Loretta knew she had the recipes, she’d probably try to beat her to the punch and finagle them out of the Bruno sisters herself.

And there was no way the woman would honor Carlita’s wishes to hold off on printing them until after the festival ended.

The elevator door opened, and Loretta pushed past, calling behind her, “You were probably a suck up in school, too.”

“At least if I do get the job, it will be because I earned it and not because I whined to Uncle Earl over roast beef,” Jordan muttered.

She walked by Loretta’s desk and took a quick peek to see if maybe her first offering for the column was in sight. She’d love to know what her rival had up her sleeve.

No such luck.

Plopping down in her chair, she pulled out her notes from the interview with Carlita. She was planning to use them for her article the next day with teasers for the recipes to follow. Now all she had to do was persuade Carlita to let her print the recipes a few days early.

She’d go back to the fairgrounds before dinner—but this time she’d leave Victor at home.

* * * * *

Glancing at the clock over the door, Jordan noticed several of her coworkers walking past her desk on the way to the exit. Already after five. She’d brainstormed a few stories for the column after she and Loretta had returned from Egan’s office, and she’d lost track of time. She hadn’t even taken a lunch break.

Sneaking a peek toward Loretta’s desk, she wasn’t surprised to find it empty. She’d probably slipped out early, still upset with Egan for not compensating her for the extra work. Loretta Moseley didn’t seem like the give-the-job-100% kind of girl, but then again, she didn’t need to be.

The woman had a benefactor.

The phone on Jordan’s desk rang, startling her. She hesitated momentarily before answering, thinking if she had to listen to one more personal ad, she’d go crazy. For some unknown reason, today had been really busy for personals. More people had called in than ever before, making her wonder if there was a Lonely Hearts Club convention going on somewhere in Ranchero. The woman calling herself “Loves to party” had been her favorite one since the lady had confessed to being over sixty. How much over that she wouldn’t say.

That had reminded her of her friend Lola, who had more energy and possibly a better sex life than most forty-year olds. She herself wasn’t even thirty yet, but she’d bet “Loves” partied way more than she did.

She finally picked up the phone on the third ring. “Personals. McAllister speaking.” She scolded herself for answering in the first place. Technically, it was a few minutes past closing time.

“Personals? That sounds sexy,” Alex said, his voice bringing a smile to her face.

“Hey, you, I’ve almost forgotten what you look like.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but between my job and meeting with Jeff and Kate about everything, I barely have time to sleep.”

“I was teasing, silly. We’ll have plenty of time after this whole mess gets straightened out. Besides, I’ve been pretty busy myself.” She stopped before blurting out about all the detective work she’d been doing. She’d rather tell him the next time she saw him, thinking it might be easier to endure his ‘quit snooping’ lecture face to face.

“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. My mom’s taking Kate into Dallas to some kind of concert at Fair Park to cheer her up. I wondered if I could talk you into a nice quiet dinner tonight.”

Her spirits were instantly elevated. “Mr. Moreland, you have made my day. What time should I expect you?” Spending a little time with Alex away from this mother and sister was worth putting off her return trip to the fairgrounds.

“I’ll make a reservation for seven thirty at that new Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Plainville and pick you up around seven. Jeff said it was fantastic.”

At the mention of Emilio’s lawyer, Jordan was reminded that she hadn’t heard the latest about Marco’s murder. “How is Kate holding up?”

Alex sighed. “She’s doing pretty well, given the circumstances. The DNA from under her fingernails still hasn’t come back yet, but she has no doubt it’s Marco’s. She’s kind of in limbo waiting, though, and to make matters worse, she’s been relieved of her duties with the festival.”

“Oh, no. That gives her more time to worry about all the police stuff.”

“Exactly. Her boss drove up from Houston last night and officially took over for her. You can imagine how bummed she is about that. If it hadn’t been for my dad, I don’t think she would’ve come out of her room at all last night.”

“Your dad?”

“He called from Abu Dhabi last night to see how things were going. Although she didn’t sugarcoat it, my mother tried not to let him know who worried we are. Otherwise, he’d be on a plane out of there in record time. Since his big presentation to the Crown Prince is in three days, we convinced him to wait and see how this played out. He insisted on talking to Kate before he hung up, and like always, he had her laughing again.”

“I’m so sorry, Alex. I feel so helpless. I want to do something, but I don’t know what.”

“There’s not much anyone can do, Jordan. We just have to hope for the best.”