Pasta, Pinot & Murder Page 8

  “Oh, Alice was fine. I didn’t deal with her much. And from what I hear, that’s a good thing. Working for Bruce has always been a pleasant experience.” Paula sat down at her desk. “It bothers me that people think I should know everything about Alice just because I work for her husband.”

  “Speaking of Bruce, did you get a hold of him?”

  “Yes, he’s on his way home now.”

  Paula stood again, and looked past me out to the parking lot. “Who’s that with you? That’s not your husband.” Then she squinted and looked closer. “Oh my God, that’s Jacob Jackson. What are you doing with him?”

  I looked out the window at Jacob in the passenger seat, his head barely visible, then turned my attention back to Paula. “What do you mean?”

  She came around the desk to stand next to me. “Jacob used to work for Alice. He was a sous chef at the Poached Pear, but he was fired for stealing.”

  My breath caught in my throat. His resumè said nothing about working for Alice.

  “Are you sure it’s the same guy? I didn’t see the Poached Pear on his resumè.”

  If Jacob had been paying attention, Paula would have made him balk. Her arms were flailing as she said, “How could you not know? He was bilking Alice and Bruce for thousands of dollars.”

  “And how exactly was he doing that?” I wasn’t sure how a sous chef could steal that much from a restaurant.

  “You have to ask Alice, I mean Bruce, about the details. It was really convoluted. But when Alice fired him, it was a knockdown, drag out fight.” Paula punched at the air.

  It was funny to see this woman, in her pale pink suit, slicked back hair, and perfect makeup, punching the air like a boxer.

  “In what way?” My curiosity got the better of me and I wondered if I should let this kid be in my car.

  Kid. Who was I trying to fool? He was in his twenties. Not a kid by any means.

  “It was a screaming match. Jacob denied everything, then the general manager got involved. It was a mess. Alice made it clear, under no uncertain terms, that Jacob would never work in a Sonoma Valley restaurant or winery ever again. She told him that everybody was going to know what he did.”

  “What was her proof?”

  “Like I said, you’ll have to ask Bruce. But I can tell you this, he wouldn’t be working for me.”

  Paula walked back around to her desk and sat down. The phone rang and she answered.

  I had the check in my hand and didn’t really need to know anything else from Paula, so I waved and exited the building. When I got in the car, I didn’t say anything to Jacob. I didn’t want to have a scene right there in the parking lot for Paula to see. I drove back to the studio, and when he got out of the car, I asked “Why didn’t you tell me that you’d worked for Alice? I didn’t see that work experience on your resumè.”

  Jacob stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face me. “Of course not. I wasn’t going to put that on my resumè. Alice was out to ruin my life.”

  “What exactly happened?” At least I had the chance to get one side direct from the horse’s mouth.

  “I was fired for stealing. She said she had proof that I had stolen money from the restaurant. I’ve never stolen so much as a piece of bubble gum in my life, and here she was accusing me of stealing thousands of dollars.”

  “What was her proof?”

  Jacob threw his hands in the air as if giving up. “I didn’t stick around to find out. Once she told me that she was going to ruin my career as a chef, I’d had enough. I told her where she could stick her accusations, I got in my car and left.”

  “She had to have some sort of proof. She couldn’t just fire you based on suspicions.”

  “Princess Alice thinks she rules the kingdom. She told me there wasn’t anything I could do. She knew it was me, and that’s all she needed. I considered taking her to court, but I was a jobless chef and she was, well, Alice Parker.”

  I totally understood where he was coming from. Alice could bankrupt him, and it wouldn’t put a dent in her fortune. Sad state of affairs in the court system.

  Jacob’s body sagged and he leaned against his car. “I’m telling you, I wasn’t stealing. I’m sure the general manager set me up. It wasn’t pretty. Alice scolded and cursed at me, saying I’d never work in the Sonoma Valley again. She wouldn’t listen to reason. I tried to explain how, in my position, I could never steal that much. Even if I was in the position, I wouldn’t do it.”

  “That must’ve made you mad,” I goaded.

  “As horrible a woman as she is, I thought she was all talk. But I didn’t want to take a chance, so I applied for the job here.”

  I thought about what he said, and unless I had proof, I had to take him at face value. But I did have one question. “Why were you late yesterday? I mean the real reason.”

  Jacob pushed off the car, his body stiffened. “Why?”

  He seemed truly perplexed. I wondered if he knew, or he was a good actor.

  “Alice is dead,” I stated bluntly. “She was murdered.”

  The surprise on Jacob’s face looked genuine. Maybe he was prepared for this moment, and had practiced that face.

  “Oh my gosh. I can’t say I’m sorry, but it wasn’t me.”

  “You have an alibi?”

  Jacob reached for the door handle on his car. “I don’t need this. I don’t need an alibi, either. I had nothing to do with Alice’s death.”

  “Before you storm off, you should know I’m not firing you. I’m not sure that I trust you, but I can’t fire you until you’ve been arrested and charged. The police are going to come talk to you, and you’d better have an alibi.”

  Jacob slammed the door to his car. “I told you, I was in my car. I fell asleep because I’d had a late night the night before.”

  That was exactly what he told me. And he repeated it almost word for word. But it didn’t make sense. It didn’t the first time either. “You’re saying no one saw you yesterday morning?”

  “No, I was alone.”

  “You know what, Jacob? This isn’t going to be a good day to work. I’ll pay you for five hours because you came in, but I just don’t have any work for you today.”

  Jacob’s face went slack. “So you are firing me?”

  “No, but I don’t think I’m going to get much work done today, so it’ll be a waste of your time to have you here. Why don’t you be here by eight o’clock tomorrow morning, unless I call you and tell you otherwise?”

  Jacob shook his head, got in his car, and slammed the door. His wheels spit gravel as he drove away.

  How on earth did I end up knee-deep in Alice’s murder?

  Chapter Nine

  I didn’t see Hattie’s golf cart at the bed and breakfast, so I walked up the hill to her house. The golf cart was parked in its designated space next to the four-car garage. And Peter’s car was parked next to it.

  Hattie must have still been feeling crappy. That she admitted it to me that morning was a miracle. It implied lack of control. That’s something she rarely admitted.

  Peter opened the front door of the McMansion and held it open. “What brings you to the top of the hill?”

  Top of the hill was right. The Friday home overlooked more than thirty acres of grapes. Such a beautiful sight, except during the winter when the vines look like gnarly arthritic hands. Just before harvest, as they were now, they looked full of life and bursting with color.

  I looked behind me at the hustle of the farmhands prepping for harvest. The vines, with green and purple grapes, that looked ready to burst. The rows of vines grew right up to within ten feet of Hattie’s home.

  “I came to talk to your mom. How’s she doing?” I walked past him and into the foyer.

  Every time I walked into the Friday mansion, I was reminded of almost any episode of MTV’s Cribs. You’d expect a grape theme, considering the money that built this house, but I think this was Hattie’s retreat away from grapes. The entry had dark wood paneling like you’d see
in an expansive home library, and a nine-foot ornate wooden table, with a massive flower arrangement that changed weekly and partially blocked the view down the center hall. I couldn’t say I was a fan of the birds of paradise arrangement I saw when I walked in. Not that the arrangement wasn’t nice, it just wasn’t my favorite flower.

  “She’s in her bedroom. She says she’s fine, but as long as I’ve been alive, she’s never missed a day of work.” Peter closed the door and followed me into the entry.

  “I’m going upstairs and have a chat with her.”

  The staircase curved along both sides of the entry and I walked toward the one on the right, away from Peter.

  Peter jogged up the stairs and grabbed my hand. “That’s probably not a good idea.”

  I yanked my hand away. “I’m a big girl. If she turns me away, I’ll handle it.”

  He stood planted on the stair just below me as I headed up.

  I knocked lightly on the door. “Hattie, are you okay?”

  I heard her strong voice through the thick door. “Go away.”

  I opened the door and walked in. I found her sitting in front of her balcony with the doors open, rocking in an antique wooden chair. “I said go away, not come in.”

  Mine and Peter’s bungalow would fit in Hattie’s bedroom twice. The room had heated marble floors covered mostly by two expensive antique rugs. She’d gotten them on a visit to Hong Kong. Her bed was to the right of the balcony, and had a silk diamond-tuck headboard that reached the twenty-foot ceiling. It was framed by a blond wood that matched the nightstands. To the left of the balcony was a sitting area complete with antique chairs, coffee table and a couch. The color theme of the room was beige, and tasteful in its ornateness. Two marble columns flanked the balcony, and there she sat with the French doors wide open.

  Next to the balcony pillars, Hattie had an extensive vanity area, with a floor to ceiling beveled mirror behind an antique dressing table.

  I pulled the chair from her vanity and sat next to her. “Maybe you need to go for a run. Sweat all of the toxins out of your body.”

  She looked at me and I saw her red swollen eyes. If possible, they looked worse than when I saw her earlier. “If I ran, I’d puke. Or dry heave. I hate throwing up.”

  I wasn’t a big fan of vomiting, either. Or running, even though I’d been known to indulge.

  “I’m so sorry about Alice. I really am. I know you’ve been friends forever. This is a horrible way to lose her.”

  Hattie sniffed and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. “I just hope we find the loser who did this.”

  I put my hand on the back of Hattie’s rocker. “You remember my assistant?”

  Hattie looked at me, but didn’t say anything.

  “Did he look familiar to you at all?”

  Hattie frowned. “No, why?”

  “You said something about him being at the gym where you have a membership.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I thought maybe I’d seen him at Stretch’s place. So I guess he looked vaguely familiar.”

  I took a deep breath before saying anything, then just blurted it out. “Paula saw him earlier today and said that Alice had fired him. She had accused him of stealing thousands of dollars from her, and it ended in a nasty fight. Alice swore to him that she was going to ruin his career, and that he’d never work in the Sonoma Valley as a chef ever again.”

  “Oh, yes, I heard about that. But I never met the guy. This kid working for you, that’s him?”

  I nodded. “Yes, he admitted to all of it, but not the stealing. Well, he told me about the argument, and being fired. He swears up and down that he didn’t steal from her. What do you think?”

  Hattie went back to staring out the window at her vineyards. “Alice didn’t say too much about it, other than that one of her employees had been robbing her blind.” She gave a sardonic laugh. “Like anybody could rob Alice blind. She was so rich, she makes us look poor.”

  I didn’t know about her us comment, but I was definitely poor compared to the Friday or the Parker families.

  “He doesn’t seem like the type of person that would kill her. But if she’d ruined his life, he may be vengeful.” I thought for a moment. “I’ve only known him a day. Anyone can be someone else for a day. Or even for months. He could be good at hiding his real personality.”

  “Alice is the vengeful one. You didn’t want to cross her. I just feel so bad that our last words weren’t friendly ones. You know, like you’d never have told that person that you’ve got to go because you’ve got something else to do, if you’d known it was going to be the last time you’d talk to them.”

  I understood exactly how she felt. The day before my dad died, I’d been talking to him on the phone, and it had been the best conversation in years. I didn’t want to hang up, but Lucy had had a vet appointment, so I told him that I had to go. If I had known, I would’ve skipped the vet appointment and talk to him for hours.

  “I can’t fire this guy on circumstantial evidence. Actually, there’s no evidence. Do you think there’s a possibility that someone else could’ve been stealing from Alice?”

  “There is a possibility. I remember Alice saying something about not being so sure after she let her sous chef go. But the money stopped disappearing once he was gone.”

  I shrugged. “That doesn’t mean anything. It just means that whoever was stealing had to stop because their scapegoat was no longer there.”

  Hattie turned her head slowly. “Can we talk about this some other time? I’m not in the mood for conversation.”

  I stood and put Hattie’s chair back at her vanity. “Thanks for your time. I was just wondering if you heard anything about the theft at the Poached Pear.”

  “I’d heard about it, but I don’t know all of the gory details. Just what I told you.”

  “You don’t, by any chance, have the key to Alice’s house, do you?”

  Hattie’s head turned quickly this time, and I could see that it hurt. She looked as if she was waiting for the nausea to settle before she said, “What do you want the key to Alice’s house for?”

  I stood next to her. “I want to look around. Maybe there’s something that the police didn’t notice that I might.”

  “How many times have you been in Alice’s house? And just what do you think you’re going to notice that the police didn’t?”

  She was right, but I knew Alice was fastidious, and anything out of place would not be the norm. Did the police know that?

  “Look, I just want to get a look at her house. Maybe there’s something. I already feel bad that I didn’t see the ransacked office. Don’t you want this murder solved?”

  Hattie jabbed her finger toward her nightstand. “There’s a key in there. But I think the police know what they’re doing. Sheriff Waters is quite capable.”

  I smiled to myself. Yes, I’ll bet Sheriff Waters is quite capable, I so wanted to say out loud.

  I went to her nightstand and pulled open the drawer. There were several keys, but Alice’s was easy to find, because it had her name on it.

  “What about the key code for the gate?”

  Hattie wasn’t sure if the code had been changed, but she gave me the one she knew.

  “I hope you feel better soon. Peter is worried about you. He says you’ve never missed a day of work.”

  Hattie stood up and turned to me. “And I won’t miss today, either. I’m just running a little late.”

  Chapter Ten

  I had so much to do at home and in the studio that I didn’t know why I was getting myself involved in Alice’s murder. I was behind on blog posts, recipe development, and my food filming education. But instead, I was driving out to Alice’s house.

  I stopped my car at the gate to punch in the code that Hattie had given me. The gate opened. As I drove up the long drive, I didn’t see any cars at the house. I wondered if Bruce had come back yet.

  I parked in front of the house, in the same place I had when I was supp
osed to meet with Alice, and walked to the front door. I put the key in the door and looked up at the video camera, wondering if it was working.

  Placing my key in the lock, I turned the handle and pushed the door open to see Bruce standing right in front of me.

  Bruce, like Alice and Hattie, was in his seventies, and yet he looked to be about fifty. He stood a smidge over six feet tall with an athletic body. I knew he was a runner, but with his broad shoulders, he must also lift weights. I’d only ever seen him in a long sleeve business shirt, with a tie, and dress pants, so I didn’t know what was under that fabric. As he stood in front of me now, he wore a polo shirt and plaid shorts, as if he’d been on a golf course

  “What are you doing in my house?”

  “Oh gosh, Bruce, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were already home. Hattie gave me the key so that I could look around. I wanted to see if there was any evidence that the police might’ve missed.” I could have smacked myself up beside the head. I shouldn’t have told him why I wanted to look around. I should have made an excuse and come back later.

  Bruce took a step toward me. “So you’re in the investigative business now?”

  “No, I was just thinking that we knew Alice better than the police, and maybe if I looked around, I’d see something that they hadn’t.” I wondered if I should ask him about the video, but thought I’d wait until he was more amicable.

  “I don’t think it’s necessary, but thank you.” He walked toward the door and held it open for me.

  I had no intention of leaving. “Do you mind if I ask, how were you and Alice doing?”

  Bruce slammed the door shut behind me. “I do mind if you ask, but I can tell you things weren’t good.”

  I stopped breathing to keep myself from gasping. This was a revelation.

  “Not good?” I tried to sound sympathetic, not curious.

  “It’s not public knowledge, but Alice and I are in the middle of a divorce. Or, were in the middle of a divorce.” Bruce looked as if a pin had popped his inflated balloon.