Evelyn David - Sullivan Investigations 02 - Murder Takes the Cake (8 page)

Jeff waved his hand in agreement.

Kathleen marched over to the desk and swiped the papers out of her husband’s hands. “Am I right or what?”

“
Kathleen,” Jeff growled. “Give me those papers. They’re important.”

His wife reluctantly handed over the invoices.

“Now, what are you right about? And yes, you almost always are.”

“
I said we’d love to have Rachel join us for dinner, wouldn’t we?” Kathleen met her husband’s eyes and held them for a moment. Rachel was fairly certain an entire conversation had just taken place, and yet not a word had been spoken.

Jeff turned to face Rachel.
“Ms. Brenner, would you be so kind as to join my family and the rest of the unholy gang my daughter insists on marrying into for dinner at the 1789 Restaurant?”

“
Jeff, don’t talk about the Laskys like that,” Kathleen scolded.

Rachel again protested.
“I have to get home. Thank you for the kind invitation, but I–”

Kathleen interrupted again.
“What my husband meant to say, although his delivery was so very ungracious, is that we’d love to have you. Mac Sullivan will feel like someone threw him a life preserver. Besides everything else, and this fact will appeal to my idiot husband.” At the glare and harrumph from the red-haired mortician, Kathleen added, “Whom I adore. We have already paid for the dinner at the 1789 Restaurant. My Aunt Maeve just called to say she couldn’t join us, so you’ll be doing Jeff O’Herlihy a favor by not letting a fully-paid-for meal go to waste.”

“
I knew we never should have invited Maeve,” Jeff muttered. “Old lady is crazy as a fruitcake and never leaves her house after 4 P.M.”

“
I had to invite her. She’s my mother’s oldest sister and she swore this time she would come,” Kathleen insisted.

Jeff shook his head.
“And you believed her?”

Rachel tried to interject her polite refusals, but the bickering duo couldn
‘t hear her.

“
Hey, Jeff? When are we getting this show on the road? I’m too old for much more of this swank society. Besides, I’ve got places to go and people to see.”

Rachel turned as she heard a familiar and very welcome voice in the doorway.

“Rachel, what are you doing here?” Mac Sullivan couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice.

“
She’s joining us for dinner,” Kathleen answered before Rachel could form a response. “Now let’s go before the Laskys wonder if we were raised by pygmies and have no manners.”

The hostess swept out of the room.

Rachel began. “I really can’t.…”

Jeff took a deep breath and stood eye-to-eye with his employee.
“Ms. Brenner. I have a room full of people out there I don’t know and if I had my way, would never have to know. My future son-in-law told me that he thinks his bride-to-be, my beloved Bridget, is losing her marbles. My wife informed me I’ve paid, yet again, for a meal her lunatic relative will never eat. And my best friend, godfather to the apparently loony Bridget, and the person I continue to supply with free four-wheeled transportation,” Jeff paused to glare at Mac Sullivan, who had the good sense to look away embarrassed, “has just informed me he’s got a better offer somewhere else and doesn’t want to eat with us. Now what were you saying?”

Rachel took a tentative step backwards and bumped into Mac. She offered a small smile.
“I was asking if the meal included dessert.”

“
You’ve got a choice of two entrees and two desserts.” Jeff answered as he fed the insurance form into the fax machine. “Nobody can call Jeff O’Herlihy cheap.”

Chapter 7

“
Jeff is right. No one is going to call him cheap tonight.” Rachel stepped out of her Jeep, looked first towards the front entrance of the 1789 Restaurant and then down at her black sweater dress and leather knee boots. “I’m not sure what I’m wearing is appropriate for a party, but at least it won’t get me thrown out of this place.”

Mac exited the passenger side and joined her.
“You didn’t bring a coat?”

A reasonable question. The temperature that had felt mild earlier in the day was now in the low 30s. Snow was a possibility. She shrugged.
“Nope. I left it hanging in my office. I was in such a hurry to get some papers to Jeff that I forgot. Anyway, I was planning to return and finish up a few things.”

“
Want my jacket?”

She glanced at his tan sports jacket and shook her head.
“Not in this lifetime!”

He chucked.
“I guess JJ isn’t the only one who needs to do some shopping.”

“
I heard about that. You know you’re just asking for trouble.” Rachel smiled, remembering her earlier encounter with a still angry JJ. The young office manager had come by the funeral home to pick up the keys to an old Cadillac Jeff had recently acquired in trade. The Cadillac was barely drivable, but Jeff had felt sorry for the widow who’d had her heart set on a casket her finances couldn’t support. Rachel wasn’t sure who was sputtering the most when they left, JJ or the car.

“
What do you mean?”

She handed the keys to her Jeep Commander to the valet who was hovering nearby. Taking his arm she walked towards the entrance.
“Let’s just say I don’t think you’re going to be happy with the results.”

“
There’s Jeff and his clan in the foyer. Last time I saw him looking this grim was when Bridget had to have her appendix removed.”

“
Mac! You and Jeff need to trust Bridget. If she loves Joshua Lasky–”

“
Yeah. If.”

She looked at his face.
“You think she doesn’t?”

“
I don’t know.” He waved at Kathleen who was motioning for them to hurry up. “But something isn’t right.”

***

“We could have had a grilled steak at a really good place I know–”

Rachel shushed him.

“I know. This stuff is supposed to be excellent. But I’m not crazy about lamb.” Mac pushed the meat around on his plate. It wasn’t so much the food as the company that was irritating him. Rachel was to his right, but Joshua Lasky’s father was on his left. The man hadn’t shut up once since they were seated. Or stopped drinking.

“
Why didn’t you choose the other entrée?”

“
I knew I would hate that more. I like plain food.”

“
They have other things on the menu. You could have had a steak.”

“
That would have complicated things when Jeff went to pay the bill. Things are complicated enough already.” He nodded towards the man sitting across from him, Leo Lasky; a mirror image of Joshua’s father, except for the drinking. Leo had been nursing the same glass of wine all evening.

Rachel leaned closer.
“Did you know beforehand the father and uncle were twins?”

“
Nope, I–”

Coming from his left side, silverware and crystal met in a deliberate rhythm.

“I’d like to propose a toast to my son and his beautiful fiancée.”

Mac watched as Paul Lasky gained everyone
‘s attention. “May Joshua and Bridget be as happy as his mother and I were.”

A clamor of voices and the clink of glasses signaled general agreement. Mac noted that some of the dinner guests were less enthusiastic; namely Helen, the second Mrs. Paul Lasky.

As the waiters refilled their glasses, Jeff O’Herlihy stood and began a story concerning Bridget and her first grade school play. Mac tuned out his old friend’s voice. Even though he had enjoyed the tale the first hundred or so times he’d heard it, now his mind was more interested in going over the events of the last 24 hours. If the lab tests on the glass Bridget took from the Virginia farmhouse were positive for rat poison, was that murder connected to the threats Bridget had received? How? He still wasn’t convinced the death of Bridget’s fellow reporter was a homicide. He didn’t even have enough to get the cops involved. Still, he might see if he could get his former boss, Lieutenant Greeley with the D.C. police department, to meet him for a beer or two tomorrow evening.

“
Mac?”

He focused on Rachel.
“Sorry, did you say something?”

“
They’re serving dessert. Do you want chocolate or lemon pie?” She tilted her head to direct his attention to the waitress standing behind them.

“
Chocolate. Definitely chocolate.” He grinned. “I drive so many lemons that I don’t care much for the flavor.”

***

Rachel freshened up her lipstick while Kathleen fussed over Bridget’s hair. They had decided to visit the ladies room en masse. As soon as the door closed behind them, the O’Herlihy women were arguing over Bridget’s outfit again.

“
Mom, I’m too old for you to be picking out my clothes. There’s nothing wrong with what I’m wearing.”

“
It’s just not dressy enough. Especially the leather jacket. Joshua is wearing a very nice suit. I don’t want his family thinking you don’t know better. You should have worn that elegant black cocktail dress I bought you last week. You knew your dad was going to have a photographer here.”

“
Mom, cocktail dresses went out with Pat Nixon. I told you not to make a big deal out of this dinner. And a photographer? We still have a long way to go before the wedding. You need to pace yourself.”

“
I’m only trying to make things nice for you. Your father and I didn’t have the opportunity for a big wedding. You could try to be a little more grateful.”

“
Thank you, Mom. Now leave my hair alone. No amount of hair spray is going to tame it at this point.”

“
The least you could have done is worn something less….” Kathleen stared at the candy apple red jacket, “Bright. Something less bright.”

“
At least she’s been warm enough,” Rachel mentioned, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “I’ve been freezing all evening. That banquet room is beautiful, but too cold for me.”

“
Here!” Bridget shoved the red leather jacket towards Rachel. “This turtleneck I’m wearing is plenty warm and…very conservative.” She looked at her mother. “It won’t kill me to make my Mom happy, just this once.”

***

The party had moved to a smaller room, where the lighting was better. Since it was also warmer, Rachel carried the jacket. She wanted nothing more than to go home and defrost in a hot bubble bath. She also needed to feed her cat.

Jeff was arguing with a man carrying a large camera. One of the Lasky twins was involved. From the volume of his voice, it was probably Joshua
‘s father. Joshua was sitting alone at a table, talking on his cell phone. Mrs. Lasky had passed them on the way back from the ladies room.

“
Please tell me you’re ready to go? I don’t want to get into another conversation with a Lasky. Even drunk, they’re pretentious.”

She turned and found Mac standing behind her, a hopeful expression on his face.

“Do you think Jeff will be insulted if we–”

“
If we’re quick, he’ll never notice. The photographer wants double and Jeff isn’t feeling generous.”

Rachel smiled, putting on her borrowed jacket.
“Let’s go for it!”

They exited the restaurant and waited for the valet to return her Jeep. One car was already parked in the red zone waiting for its owner.

“Something is wrong with the lights out here,” Mac said. “It’s too dark.”

“
Why don’t you let the maître d’ know? We really should have left a note for Jeff, telling him we’re leaving. You could do that at the same time.”

“
Jeff can figure it out. Besides, I’m not going to leave you standing here by yourself.”

“
Please? The valet will be back any minute. I think that’s Sean over there sneaking a cigarette, so I won’t really be alone.”

Mac took a hard look at the person on the corner.
“First his hair, then an earring, and now smoking!” He stepped onto the sidewalk next to the parked car. “Sean, what the–”

Rachel joined him, tugging on his sleeve.
“Not now. You can yell at him tomorrow. Leave Jeff a note and tell them about the lights, okay. I want to go home without another scene.”

“
Fine. Come back inside with me. Sean’s worse than useless as a protector.”

“
I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself.”

He frowned.
“Why don’t–”

“
Please. I need a few minutes to myself. I’ll be fine.”

“
You’ll stay right here–in front?”

Rachel nodded and buttoned the borrowed jacket. She wasn
‘t lying about needing a moment to herself.

The cold air definitely felt like snow. Rachel needed to remember to check the weather forecast when she got home. She pulled on the cap and gloves she
‘d stuffed in her purse earlier and thought about the list of errands she needed to run the next day after work. There was still shopping to be done, if she was going to fix a Thanksgiving meal for Mac. She should probably have the Jeep serviced soon, too. Her brother Dan’s gift to her, the Jeep was a far cry from her old van and she’d managed to put enough miles on it in the last month that it was due an oil change.

A noise behind her had her turning. Before she could process the information, a gloved hand brushed her face and covered her mouth.

Time seemed to hang for a second. Her thoughts jumbled. She should have gone back inside. It really was too dark. Mac was right, Sean wouldn’t notice. She dropped her purse. There he could take it.

Something metal was against her throat.

What did he want? Her purse? She kicked at her purse so he–or she–would see.

“
You should have listened. I warned you.”

She didn
‘t recognize the whispered voice.

Arms pulled her backwards towards the alley.

Not again! Never again! Rachel took a breath and then shoved both elbows backwards as hard as she could.

There was a sound like the air being let out of a tire.

Immediately dropping to the ground, she rolled under the nearby car.

Snow began falling.

***

Rachel groaned and took another sip of police station coffee. Bridget
‘s jacket had a four-inch oil stain on the shoulder. Her own black dress was ripped and filthy. She had enough scrapes and bruises that she was sure she resembled road kill.

The D.C. police were sure it was a run-of-the-mill robbery or at least police detectives Gorden and Atwood were sure. She
‘d met both for the first time when they were searching for her brother, the main suspect in some campus murders. Tom Atwood was okay, but Eddie Gorden was less than charming. She’d filed a complaint against Gorden for his rough treatment of her son and his teenaged friends. Gorden had gotten a reprimand put in his file and developed an even nastier attitude, especially towards her.

“
How much money were you carrying?”

“
About $60. The same as the last time you asked.”

Gorden grinned.
“Guess you weren’t planning to pay for your own meal at that fancy place. I heard you and Sullivan were.…”

To complete his sentence he made a gesture.

In response she jumped to her feet, making her own gesture by forgetting she had a cup of coffee in her hand.

He grimaced as the liquid soaked his shirt and trouser front.
“You did that on purpose!”

She had, but he
‘d deserved it and more. Besides the stain would hardly be noticeable among all the other food stains decorating his once white oxford shirt.

“
What’s going on in here?” Lieutenant James Greeley followed his unlit cigar into the interview room. The man’s immaculate designer suit and shined-to-a-mirror-finish, black cowboy boots presented a stark contrast to her ripped dress and Detective Gorden’s rumpled attire.

“
Detective Gorden and I were catching up,” Rachel answered, shoving her empty cup at the angry detective. “But we’re done now.”

Under the steely glare of his boss, Gorden was forced to take the cup. He stalked out of the room without a word.