Chicken Caccia-Killer (A Jordan McAllister Mystery) (4 page)

One by one he introduced them, and as expected, Rosie turned on the charm, complimenting him on everything from his jacket to his dark black eyes. About five eleven, Emilio looked to be in his late fifties with a touch of gray at his temples. Even though he had yet to open his mouth and speak, Jordan got the distinct impression he was someone important.

Alex’s mother wore a bright blue cocktail dress that fell below her knees and showed off curves even a much younger woman would envy.

“I’ve heard so much about you that I feel I already know all of you,” Natalie said to the gang after hugging Jordan.

“Emilio is one of the sponsors of the festival,” Alex explained. “His shipping company makes sure that everything, including all the alcohol and soft drinks for the weekend, arrives on time. And keeping all those Italians in
vino
for three days is no small feat.”

Emilio repeated the hand kissing with both Jordan and Lola. Although he flirted openly with all of them, it was obvious he was more interested in Alex’s mother. Jordan knew that wouldn’t stop Rosie from putting her on-the-prowl persona into play.

A well-dressed man appeared out of nowhere and stopped in front of Emilio. “Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Not right now, Jeff. Whatever it is, it can wait until after the party.” Then, as if he suddenly remembered his manners, Emilio faced the group. “This is Jeff Hamilton, my lawyer. Jeff, this is Kate’s mother and brother and their friends.”

The men shook the newcomer’s hand while the women acknowledged him with a smile. Dressed in a dark gray suit that fit his svelte body perfectly, the man stood well over six feet tall with blondish-brown hair and green eyes. Jordan decided if she had to sum him up in one word, it would be classy.

“Okay. Make sure you find me when everyone leaves. We’ve got a problem.” He started to leave then said. “If you see Kate, will you tell her I need to talk to her as well?”

“Will do,” Emilio said as they all watched his lawyer walk away.

Jordan scanned the room. “Where is Kate, anyway?”

Alex and his mother exchanged glances before Alex shrugged. “She had a headache and decided to go back to my house to lie down.” He linked arms with Jordan then addressed his mother again. “I’m taking Jordan and her friends for food, and then we’re heading out to the balcony so I can show them how gorgeous the Dallas skyline is from here. Will you join us, Mother?”

Natalie waved her hand. “In a minute, son. Emilio was just telling me about his daughter’s upcoming wedding.”

Jordan didn’t miss the disapproving look that crossed Alex’s face. He had to have noticed the way Calabrese was standing close enough to his mother to brush against her occasionally. He’d mentioned earlier that his father was in Abu Dhabi on a business trip.

Was it possible Natalie Moreland was one of those people who believed in the old “when the cat is away” thing?

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

Natalie and Emilio were quickly forgotten as Jordan got a look at the buffet table lined with elegant white linen and decorated with red, green, and white roses. It went hand in hand with the matching Italian flag sugar sheet that glistened from a huge cake in the center. Within minutes, they all had plates and were making their way around the table. Most of the food looked way too fancy for Jordan to ever consider, and for a second, she worried she’d have to resort to eating a bologna sandwich when she got home.

She’d only eaten a salad at lunch with Alex and his mother, not wanting the woman to think—as her son liked to say—that she could put it away like a lumberjack. Now she was starving and prepared to pig out on all the free food. But without recognizing the food on the platters, there was no way she’d take a chance and end up making the same mistake she’d made while judging the cooking contest on the cruise a few months back. She’d gotten into trouble after she’d scarfed down an entire plate of sweetbreads before discovering sweetbreads were actually the thymus glands of calves.

She’d nearly gagged and had made a complete fool of herself trying to spit it out. If it hadn’t been for the kindness of a famous celebrity chef who had slipped her a mint under the table, her career as a culinary reporter might well be over.

Alex noticed her frown and slipped in beside her. “This is Italian food, Jordan. I promise you’ll love it.”

“Hello, Jordan,” a voice from behind said, “It’s nice to know you clean up pretty well.”

Jordan turned as Loretta Moseley approached with six-inch heels that had her wobbling like a drunken hooker. Dressed in an apple-green sundress that showed off an impressive cleavage, the ex-culinary reporter clung to the arm of a man who could only be described as a serious hottie.

Seeing her nemesis, Jordan touched her reddish-brown curls, wishing she’d gone for a more sophisticated look. Subconsciously, she smoothed down the front of her red and white dress, glad Rosie had talked her into buying it.

“Hello, Loretta. It’s nice to see you again.” She turned to the tall guy standing next to her, noticing the way his spiky blonde hair accentuated dark green eyes that were blatantly moving up and down her body.

Jordan tapped her foot and waited until his gaze settled back on her face. “You must be the physical therapist I’ve heard so much about.”

Loretta narrowed her eyes in an I-can’t-believe-you–just–said-that glare. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, Aaron is the one who helped me after the accident.” She moved closer to her escort, obviously aware of the way he was smiling at Jordan.

Apparently, Alex had caught it, too, and slid in beside her, extending his hand toward the therapist. “Alex Moreland, Jordan’s date.”

The man finally took his eyes off Jordan and reached for Alex’s hand. “Aaron Conley. I work at Ranchero Rehab Hospital off Texoma Parkway.”

“I’ve been doing some checking on you,” Loretta said, glancing toward Jordan’s empty plate. “My sources say you’ve been seen a lot at the fast food joints around town. That’s kind of weird for a girl who writes about gourmet food, don’t you think?”

Jordan swallowed back a groan, wondering if Loretta had somehow figured out she was a fraud. “No weirder than leaving town for nine months.” She tilted her head toward Mr. America. “With your
friend
here, expecting to waltz in and get your old job back when you came home broke.”

Loretta’s gaze turned to steel. “So that’s how we’re going to play this?”

“You started it,” Jordan said before lowering her voice. “I’m willing to be fair and do the best job I can. I guess we’ll have to wait until after the festival to see who’s the better columnist and let your uncle make his decision based on that.”

Jordan heard Alex’s sharp intake of breath behind her and cringed, realizing she hadn’t yet told him about the conversation in her editor’s office the day before.

“It’s that old ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’ thing.” Loretta grabbed Aaron’s hand and pulled him from the table. “Good luck, Jordan. You’re gonna need it because you’re out of your league, out of your element, and soon you’ll be out of a job,” Then she walked away, dragging her therapist with her.

“She’s a piece of work,” Victor commented from the other end of the table where he was already digging into a plate of cannolis. “You got her pretty good, though, with that coming- home-broke zinger.”

“What was that all about, Jordan?” Alex asked.

“Loretta came back from Las Vegas with her tail between her legs and demanded her old job back,” Victor answered for her.

Alex moved closer and touched Jordan’s hand. “I’m so sorry, honey. Does this mean you won’t be writing the Kitchen Kupboard anymore?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, truthfully. “We both have to write about the festival, and then Egan will decide.” She moved to the end of the table and the cannolis, resigning herself to the fact that if she didn’t have her trusted Hostess Ho Ho’s available to lift her spirits, cream filled Italian pastries would have to do. “Right now I don’t want to think about that and ruin the party. Tomorrow’s soon enough to worry about my job.”

She wrinkled her nose before spotting a chafing dish in the middle of the table. Her smile returned after she made her way there and peeked under the lid. It was chicken parmesan, one of her favorites. She filled her plate, grabbed a hunk of bread, and followed Alex through the opened glass doors.

Seeing the balcony for the first time caused a collective ‘ah’ from the group. Dotted with six or eight tables sporting the same elegant white table linen and flag-colored roses as the main dining room, it was as big as her kitchen and living room combined. Only this patio came with a cobblestone floor.

Finding a vacant table, they pulled more chairs around. Jordan sat next to Victor, noticing his plate was piled even higher than hers. She giggled to herself, knowing her friend probably hadn’t eaten lunch, either. There were two things in life he loved besides Michael—eating and free food.

After cleaning her plate, she followed Alex to the gorgeous stone railing to get a better view. “Oh, my! Look how gorgeous this is.” She pointed toward downtown Dallas. “I had no idea you could see the skyline this well from here.”

“I hope you got enough to eat. You ate like a bird at lunch.”

Jordan turned when Natalie Moreland walked up with Emilio right behind her. Had Alex’s mother seen her plate and was now being sarcastic? One look her way dispelled that notion. She was grinning at her like Jordan was something special, making her wonder if Alex kept his girlfriends away from his mother for a reason. It would be embarrassing for him if Natalie Moreland treated every woman he brought home as her future daughter-in-law, and even more so if she asked them how many grandchildren they intended to give her.

“Mother, you’d better grab something to eat before they move the table out to start dancing. The band is already setting up.” Alex sent her a disapproving glare. “I wish Dad had been able to come with you. You know how much he loves to dance.”

Jordan bit her lip to stifle a grin. Alex wasn’t fooling anyone with the dad remark. He was simply making sure Emilio knew his mother was married. Unfortunately, Emilio didn’t look like the kind of guy who cared about small details like a wedding ring.

Or was it possible that Alex was reminding his mother?

“There you all are. I’ve been looking for you.”

Jordan swiveled around as Kate Moreland approached, her cheeks flushed, her charcoal silk blouse slightly disheveled.

“Oh honey, how’s your headache? I thought you were going to lie down for a while.”

“I did, Mother, and I’m much better.” She kissed Natalie then turned her attention to Emilio. “I need to talk to you later about the shipment from New Jersey. It still hasn’t arrived, and I’m getting a little concerned.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” Emilio patted her hand. “My guys are on top of the liquor situation. I guarantee it’ll be here in plenty of time.”

Apparently satisfied with the answer, Kate turned back to Jordan and motioned for the gang to come over. “These must be the friends I’ve heard so much about. I hope you all have a great time tonight and at the festi—” She glanced up when an older gentleman tapped her shoulder, and after a brief exchange with the man, she excused herself and stepped away from the group with him.

“She’s not going to get much time to party tonight, I’m afraid,” Alex explained. “Everyone seems to need her for one thing or another. She’s—” He stopped when the sound of breaking glass was heard from inside.

Emilio stared into the living room. “Looks like a lovers’ quarrel. You know how passionate we Italians are about love and war.” Although his response was flippant, the serious look on his face was not.

Jordan followed his gaze and focused on one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen. Standing about six two and dressed in a black suit that had to be pure silk, the man was visibly upset. He was frantically trying to calm a woman who was screaming obscenities and waving her arms in the air with each new outburst.

Studying them from a distance, Jordan couldn’t help thinking that if ever there was a mismatch it was the two of them. The woman stood around five three with black hair cut short and framing her round, olive face in a very unflattering style. Slightly overweight with a large nose, she wasn’t what Jordan would expect to see on the arm of someone as debonair as the man she was arguing with. Jordan was about to say something to Alex when the good-looking man grabbed the woman’s arm and marched toward them, stopping directly in front of Emilio and Natalie.

“Maybe you can talk some sense into my fiancée,” he said, his voice dripping with anger. “She thinks I’m cheating on her.”

“Your fiancée?” Kate asked, turning away from the man she’d been conversing with and stepping around her mother to face the new arrival. “Marco, what’s going on?”

“Kate!” Surprise covered his face. “You said you weren’t staying for the party. I thought you’d left.”

“Is this the whore, Marco?” the short woman asked, tears now beginning to form in her eyes.

Kate’s face flamed, and before Alex could stop her, she lunged at Marco and gave his face a stinging slap, leaving a bright red imprint of her hand. Without another word, she turned on her heels and stomped out.