Catering and Crime Page 4

  Where was the woman? Had anyone seen her near the tent? Margot chastised herself for assuming the woman had to be involved just because she’d overheard a heated argument between father and daughter and the woman had been present.

  She had to trust that Adam and his team would do their best and question everyone in the area. Someone could have seen someone come out of the tent on the other side. Then again, the crowd of people at the bagel place had been large and busy, they would likely all have dispersed by the time the officers went around to question people, but she had to hope that someone would have seen something—anything that could clear Jacqui.

  Was her sympathy for the young woman unfounded, though? What if she was guilty?

  Margot shook her head, skirting a young woman with two trailing children. She wasn’t usually a bad judge of character. Then again, there was always a first time for everything.

  A shiver passed through her just as clouds passed in front of the sun. She glanced up at the sky, wondering if they would soon be getting that promised rain, and when she looked back to the path she was on, she skidded to a stop, nearly colliding with a muscled chest.

  “Excuse me, I—” Margot’s words caught in her throat. “Ben?”

  A roguish grin spread over the man’s handsome features as he looked down at her with a sardonic glint in his eyes. “Margot Durand, looking as lovely as the last time I nearly ran into you.”

  “I— What are you doing here?” She looked around as if the answer to her question might appear.

  “No, you won’t find any policemen hunting me down—anymore.” He winked.

  “What is going on?” Her narrowed eyes took in his tall, handsome form. He wore a linen suit, brilliantly colored, patterned shirt, and a straw fedora. The whole outfit resembled something more suitable for someone going on a Caribbean cruise, but he somehow pulled off the whole look with panache and a grace she’d initially have said came from good breeding but now knew was born of his mysterious—and not fully legal—profession.

  “Just out for a stroll. Taking in the festival sights and all, of course.”

  “The last I heard, you were running from the law.” She smiled overly sweetly at him and he laughed.

  “Things change, my dear Margot. Things change.”

  Crossing her arms, she cocked her head to the side. “How so?”

  “Well, for one…” He glanced around, she assumed to make sure no one was near to hear them. “I’m no longer on the wrong side of the law.”

  Her eyebrows rose in silent question.

  He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I’m working for the good guys now.”

  “As in…”

  “The FBI. Criminal informant.” His grin spread and he hooked a thumb under his lapel. “I know, hard to believe a talented thief like me would be satisfied turning to the right side and all, but it’s been a bit more fun than I’d anticipated.”

  Margot knew her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t help it. A few months back, she had investigated a case with Adam, and Bentley, Ben’s biological father, had joined them to explore a vast estate that involved criminal activity that pointed fingers toward Ben. After a tough investigation, Margot had found the true culprit and Ben had escaped through the fingers of law enforcement, much to their chagrin, but she’d had a feeling he’d be back. Now, she was happy to find that he was back and on the right side of the law.

  “Does Bentley know?”

  “I’m actually heading to your tent to meet up with him. He knows I’m in town, but I haven’t gotten to share much with him.” He sent a furtive glance around again and gave her a tightlipped smile. “Let’s just say that, while I’m telling you the truth, I’m also here on work which could make me out to look like a liar. Don’t believe any lies you may hear, Margot dear.”

  Though he was likely ten years older than she was, he had a young air about him that made her laugh at his foolish antics and calling her dear.

  “Your secret is safe with me.” They walked on in silence, looking at the tents as they walked by in companionable silence.

  Her mind wandered to what he could be working on. Why would Ben Anderson—if he was even still going by that name—be in North Bank again? He was a master thief, the country’s underworld likely knew of him as such, which had to mean he was working on something similar, didn’t it?

  What had Jacqui mentioned? Something about thefts? Could it be…

  “Ben?!” The sound of Bentley’s shock and pleased surprise drew her from her thoughts before she could dive deeper into them. “What are you doing here?”

  Ben went toward his father with arms outstretched. “Good to see you!”

  As the father and son caught up with one another, Margot sidestepped them and slipped into the bakery tent. Her mind was still reeling from coming across Jacqui over the body, but now that Ben was here, she had to wonder if more was going on than she’d initially realized.

  It seemed only time, and more conversation with Ben, would tell.

  When the rain began, Margot, Dexter, and Julia packed everything away, thankful that it was almost the end of the festival and most of the guests had already left by that time. That, and the fact that they were out of everything except for a few cookies she’d made just in case they did run out of other things.

  All in all, the festival was a big success and Margot felt that she’d made the right choice by entering again. Though, with the dark cloud of a murder hanging over the Bistro Franco tent, she felt bad for having such a good experience. It felt wrong, in a way, to feel satisfied at the end of the day.

  “We’ll drive the truck back to the bakery and unload if you want to head home, Margot,” Dexter called to her on the other side of the borrowed truck.

  “I can come to help.”

  “No need,” Julia said, tugging on the rope she’d pulled across the truck-bed to secure the contents. “It’s not much. We’ll have it out in no time. Plus, you gave us tomorrow off.”

  “All right then,” Margot said with a grateful wave. “Just leave the tent under the back awning. I don’t think anyone will take it and we’ll need to open it to air dry on Tuesday—or whenever this storm leaves us.”

  “You got it,” Dexter said, helping Julia into the truck and running to the driver side. “See you Tuesday.”

  “See you then.”

  She’d decided to close the shop on Monday to give them all a much-needed rest and with an extra day ahead of her, she began to feel the bands of tension loosen around her shoulders. At the same time, her mind wandered to the man they’d found at the Franco tent. Who had he been?

  She picked up her satchel from under one of the folding tables they were to leave in their space, and set off toward the back parking lot where she’d parked. As she walked, her gaze traveled over the few faces still milling around. Some were hired workers to clean up tents and others were business owners pulling down their wares in the hopes of them not being too ruined by the rain.

  One blonde ponytail drew her attention and she realized it was Lindsay almost at the same time she realized where she was. At the Bistro Franco tent.

  “Lindsay?” she said, coming up to the woman.

  The blonde hair turned, ponytail flying over one shoulder. “Missus Durand?” she said with what looked like a forced smile.

  “I thought that was you,” Margot said.

  Lindsay adjusted her grip on the black umbrella she held and cocked her head at Margot. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just finished up tearing down my bakery tent. Heading home and out of this weather now.”

  “Sounds lovely,” Lindsay said, then her gaze trailed to the tent that was cordoned off by yellow police tape. “I’m afraid I’ll be here for a little while longer.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Margot said.

  “Loss?” Lindsay turned to look at her with a cocked eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

  “I was here when the body was found.”


  Lindsay’s eyes widened but she managed to remain impassive. “Oh?”

  “Yes, I heard that you were the one who hired the man who was murdered. That must have been a shock.”

  Lindsay didn’t so much as bat an eyelash at the word murdered. “I did, but I hire a lot of people for Chef Franco. It’s part of my job.”

  “Still, such a tragedy.”

  “Oh yes, of course,” she said, shrugging. “Terrible. What I can’t figure out is why Jacqui did it.”

  “You think Jacqui did it?”

  “The police have arrested her for that, haven’t they? They found her here with the knife in hand. Talk about a smoking gun.” She made a tsking sound and shook her head. “She’s a jealous one, that’s for sure.”

  “I doubt this was a crime of jealousy,” Margot said.

  “What makes you say that?” Lindsay looked surprised, and Margot shook her head.

  “Just a guess,” she said. The desire to explain herself to the woman was nearly overwhelming, but she had no evidence at this point. Then again, if Jacqui hadn’t met the man and had no affiliation to him, it would be hard to find some link or reason for her to kill him.

  “Who was the man?” Margot asked.

  Lindsay shrugged again. “Just a young man I hired. He mentioned knowing Jacqui from high school and I thought that was reference enough.”

  Margot’s eyebrows rose, but she didn’t mention the fact that Jacqui had said she had no idea who the boy was.

  “His name was Simon Plainy. I think he’s about Jacqui’s age—has to be if they were in school together. Seemed like a nice kid, eager to help and all. I barely talked to him.”

  Margot nodded, knowing how hiring workers for something like this would go. “He’s never worked for you before?” she asked, thinking of what Jacqui had said about Lindsay’s hires.

  “Nope. At least I haven’t hired him.” Margot nodded as an officer walked toward them. “I really should go,” she said, “I have a lot to take care of—obviously.” Lindsay held out her hand as if to show off the crime scene.

  “Right. Of course. I hope it goes smoothly for you.”

  “You and me both,” was her trite reply.

  Margot frowned, trying not to read too much into the woman’s attitude. She somehow didn’t seem as affected by the death as Margot would have expected, then again, it could be that Jacqui’s words had biased Margot toward the woman and she was looking for something that wasn’t there.

  Sighing, Margot set off toward her car again, this time thinking that she might need to make a stop at the local high school to see if Simon Plainy had, in fact, been part of Jacqui’s grade or if he’d used her as a way to get hired. If so, why? And if not, then why had Lindsay lied?

  6

  Margot walked into the local high school office on Monday as if she had every right to be there. She was counting on the fact that she still knew the records keeper and that she could somehow work her way into convincing the woman that the information she needed would be alright to discuss now that the student was no longer in attendance. She wasn’t sure if the news of his death would have spread yet, but she wasn’t going to count on that to be the case.

  “Good morning,” she said, noting the tired expression on the young woman at the front desk. “Is Marlene in this morning?”

  The girl nodded. “Go on back.” She looked back at her screen and Margot’s eyebrows shot up as she turned her back on the young woman. Clearly, the young woman would have preferred the job of teaching to her desk position—at least with that, she would have had the summers off.

  Margot walked down the short hall and stopped at the door to her friend’s office. Things looked the same as they had the last time Margot had been in there.

  “Margot Durand, is it really you?”

  “Sure is,” she said, stepping into the office and taking a seat on the chair Marlene offered.

  “I haven’t seen you in…well, it has to be over two years.”

  “At least,” Margot said with a warm smile. “How are you?”

  The two women caught up for a few minutes before Marlene’s phone rang. She answered it with an apologetic look and then turned to look at Margot after setting it back into its cradle.

  “Sorry about that. Now, what can I do for you?”

  Margot flashed the woman a smile and hesitated only a moment, trying to figure out what she could say to convince the woman of the necessity of the records she’d need.

  “Wait a second,” Marlene said, leaning forward with her elbows on the counter. “Are you working on a case?”

  This statement completely took Margot by surprise. “A…case?”

  “You can’t fool me with that look of innocence.” Marlene let out a very unladylike laugh and leaned forward as if Margot was about to tell her the juiciest piece of gossip she’d ever heard. “Spill it.”

  “I—I really don’t know what to say.”

  “Just because I haven’t seen you doesn’t mean I don’t know what you’re up to these days, Margot Durand—or should I say Margot Durand the Private Investigator. That’s what the papers are calling you, and that handsome detective fiancé of yours. We all—that is, the girls in the office and I—wish that we were you. That we had your life. It’s like something straight out of a romantic mystery novel.”

  Margot blinked. She hadn’t expected this at all. She also wanted to laugh because her life was far from a mystery romance novel, but she wasn’t above using this to her own advantage.

  “Well, actually, now that you mention it…” she said, dropping her gaze.

  Marlene gasped. “I knew it! Wait until I tell all of the girls.”

  “Oh, you can’t, not yet.”

  “No? Well, no, of course not! How silly of me.”

  “I came because I need some information.”

  “Is it on Mister Rivers? I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised. That man gives me the absolute creeps! What has he done?”

  “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that,” Margot said, trying to keep a straight face. “I’m actually in need of some information on a former student.”

  “Student, huh?” Marlene looked a little disappointed that her visit had nothing to do with Mr. Rivers, but to Margot’s delight, her friend turned her attention to the computer, her fingers alighting on the keyboard. “All right, who am I digging up info on?” She sounded delighted when she said this.

  “His name is Simon Plainy.”

  Marlene’s fingers flew across the keys. “Right. Simon. Sounds familiar, though I see so many kids go through our system, I can barely remember my own kids’ names.” She gave a chortle and leaned closer to the screen. “Okay, it says here he graduated about five years ago. Seemed to have pretty low scores. Was in Missus Nova’s class and… Ah!”

  Margot jumped at the woman’s exclamation. “What is it?”

  “I remember why his name sounds familiar. He was a student assistant to our P.E. teacher Mister Tremble and gave him a little bit of an issue. It was some special situation where Simon and another boy, now what was his name…” She tapped a few more keys. “That’s right, Blake Kauffman. Those two were troublemakers, but Mister Tremble always vouched for them. It was quite the scandal here in the office.”

  Margot nodded and covertly tapped in Blake’s name into her phone. It was possible that they had forged a friendship that lasted after high school. If anything, she could check out the connection between them and see if Blake knew anything about his friend.

  “Is there a way to cross-reference another student?” she asked, snapping out of her thoughts.

  “I can try. What’s the name?”

  “Jacquelyn Franco.”

  Marlene’s gaze snapped to Margot. “You’re investigating the murder at the festival, aren’t you?”

  “I—” Margot began but was cut off by the woman.

  “I just saw on the news that Jacqui was arrested. How does this Simon fellow figure in to all of this?”

 
So they hadn’t released the name of the person murdered, Margot thought. “Well, I—”

  Marlene cut her off again. “You know what? I shouldn’t ask. I’ve read enough mysteries to know that the less I know the better.” She looked back at the screen. “It looks like Jacqui graduated a year before Simon came into high school. They would have just passed one another.”

  Margot found this very interesting. Either Simon had been lying to get the job or Lindsay had been lying about why she’d hired him. Which was more likely to lie? She wasn’t sure, nor could she really know, but it was helpful to know that someone was, in fact, lying.

  “Thank you so much, Marlene. You’ve been a big help.”

  “Wait, how did I help? Don’t you need to know more?”

  Margot stood, flashing the woman a smile. “Don’t you worry. Remember, the less you know the better.”

  The woman’s eyes widened and she nodded in understanding. “Right.”

  Margot left the office with another lead—albeit slight—to follow.

  Margot pulled into a shaded parking spot at the senior living complex, rolling her windows down a crack to keep the car from heating up too much. While most of the days of late had been cool, today was weighty with humidity and heat.

  Thankful for the ease of her summer dress, she slid out of the car and set off toward the complex’s pool. She’d texted Bentley earlier to see if she could stop by and he’d invited her to come and join him for a cool beverage poolside.

  The moment she stepped into the air-conditioned pool area, she spotted Bentley on the other side of the room, an empty chair pulled up to his table. He had a grin on as he waved her over. She walked around the pool, careful not to be splashed by a few seniors doing laps and enjoying the refreshing water.

  Warm sunlight streamed in through skylights set every few feet apart the length of the pool. It almost gave the feeling of being outside without the hassle of the weather to bother them. There was also a smaller outdoor pool on the other side of the complex, but when it grew too warm to sit out comfortably, many seniors found their way inside to enjoy one another’s company, drinks, and the occasional card or board game.