Page 30 of Murder By the Millions
“Can’t fix fate.” He shrugged. “They were helicopter skiing in Canada. The snow was too wet, which triggered an avalanche.The crew looked for them for days. When they located them, they were long gone.”
So they hadn’t been murdered.Phew.
Wallis returned with our beverages, and Jason raised his beer glass in a toast. “To happier memories.”
I mirrored the gesture.
We took a moment to order dinner, and when Wallis left, we resumed our conversation.
“You’ve got to visit my place,” Jason said, veering the conversation away from maudlin subjects. “Seeing it should help you fashion the perfect soiree. I want champagne flowing and a chocolate fountain and the constant delivery of appetizers. The whole affair should be artistic and passionate.” He painted a picture with his left hand. “There’s a beautiful terrace overlooking the grounds and the swimming pool. I’d like six or seven food stations out there. Pasta. Stir-fry.”
“A seafood bar. A cheese and accoutrement table.”
“Yes, you’ve got the idea.”
I thought of the lavish parties Jay Gatsby threw. Was Jason channeling the man because of the upcoming Feast for the Eyes event? Or had he come to town hoping a big bash might make news in California and alert Delilah as to his whereabouts and, despite Patrick’s taunts, lure her here?
“How about I give you a tour tomorrow?” he continued. “In the morning a decorator is swapping out a number of furniture and art pieces. You shouldn’t see the place until that’s completed. Say, four o’clock?”
“Sure.”
“Answer me this.” He slung an arm casually over the back of his chair, which made him look decidedly rakish. “How many men’s houses have you toured in your lifetime?”
“Plenty,” I joked. “I am a caterer, after all.” It dawned on me I’d never seen the inside of Zach’s house. Why not? He’dpromised to barbecue for me sometime. I guess he’d changed his mind.
As if I’d summoned Zach with my musings, he took a seat at the bar, along with his partner, Detective Brendan Bates, who was taller than Zach and meticulous about his appearance. I couldn’t remember ever seeing the man without his Afro and goatee neatly trimmed. Both men were in jeans and polo shirts, suggesting they were enjoying a well-deserved night off. Zach caught me looking his way, and I averted my eyes, but not before I saw his gaze narrow. With what? Jealousy? Confusion? I considered waving in greeting, but I kept my hands on the base of the beer glass and made a mental note to talk to him tomorrow. We had to clear up whatever was coursing through his mind. We were friends. We owed each other an honest chat.
Our dinners came. Jason bit into his “everything” burger and hummed his approval. “It’s better than the menu claimed it would be.” He put his burger on the plate, propped his elbows on the table, and tented his hands above his plate. “What kind of events have you thrown so far?”
“You name it. Themed parties. Kids or adult birthday parties. Recently I served eighty people for a couple’s fortieth anniversary. And I cater events at law offices, fire stations, and the like.”
“Fire stations?”
“Yep. Last year they threw a party for residents who lived near the station. After all, fire trucks create a lot of noise. There’s no better goodwill gesture than free food. I offered a buffet with all the best finger foods you could imagine. The biggest draw was the three-alarm-fire chicken wings.”
“Three-alarm fire. Clever.” He chuckled. “My soiree should be about five hundred people. Can you handle something that size?”
I tempered the urge to let my mouth fall open. “I’m sure I can.” I’d have to hire every server in town, as well as a few from catering outfits in Asheville and possibly beyond. “What date are you thinking of?”
“Next Sunday. The day after the bookshop’sGatsbyevent.”
Whoa! So soon?
“Can you handle it?” he asked and once again attacked his burger.
“Of course.”
I spotted Iggie Luckenbill following the hostess to one of the six tables by the window. He was with another developer, the one who’d done the update on the rec center and the library. Iggie glanced our way, and his mouth curved down in a frown. He wasn’t a reader, so he wasn’t upset with me for messing up a book order. Was he still ticked at Jason for putting a bid on the historic properties? Couldn’t he let bygones be bygones? I studied him, wondering again whether he had had feelings for Finette Fineworthy at one time and was upset Jason was getting buddy-buddy with her. Sure, he was married, but many men had affairs or previous lovers. Women too. Before taking his seat, Iggie straightened his tie, fussed with the cuffs of his shirt so a perfect half inch of cuff would show beneath the sleeves of his jacket, and smoothed his thinning hair.
“Who are you staring at?” Jason swiveled in his seat. “Oh, him. He’s got a chip on his shoulder the size of New Jersey.”
“He said you …” I hesitated.
“Go on.” Jason tilted his head, those dreamy eyes of his pleading for honesty.
“He mentioned you started a project in California but abandoned it. Was that the one Patrick was referring to?”
Jason considered the question for a long moment. “Yes. It wasn’t the right one to complete.”
