She wanted to say that since he was well on his way to the proverbial three sheets, the last thing he needed was more alcohol. Instead she pulled her arm away. "Sorry. I'm already getting a headache from just one gla.s.s of wine, plus I have a long day tomorrow." Then as if to smooth things over, she added. "I'll be here tomorrow night with my friends, though. We'd love to have that drink with you."

He frowned. "I don't do well with crowds. I was thinking more along the lines of something a little cozier with just you and me."

She fought hard not to wrinkle her nose at the suggestion. "I'm not sure my boyfriend would be too happy about that." Turning, she started toward the exit, wishing she could see his face after dropping that little tidbit.

When she was in the car on her way back to Ranchero, she began to think about what she'd just witnessed between Frankie and Romero. Frankie was definitely afraid of the man-and with good reason. Anybody who looked like Romero and showed up with two goons built like Sumo wrestlers was not to be taken lightly. His thinly veiled threat left Jordan searching her brain, trying to remember an earlier her conversation she'd had with Frankie.

And then it came to her. The first time she'd met him, he'd mentioned that he'd been in some kind of a business deal with Marco Petrone, then covered by saying he meant family business.

Hadn't Romero Ortiz just said he didn't want Frankie to end up like his partner for not delivering the goods? Could he be referring to Marco Petrone?

Holy c.r.a.p! Had Romero just confessed to killing Marco? And who had Georgette Calabrese been screaming at?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

"You've hit a home run with this recipe," the tall blonde hollered across Jordan's cubicle, flashing Loretta Moseley a thumbs up.

Jordan's head shot up from the stack of personal ads she'd been working on since she'd walked into the building several hours before. She figured there must have been another sale on them because there was double the usual number waiting for her when she walked in the door. She'd had to put everything else on hold in order to get the ads ready for the weekend edition and hadn't even stopped to heed nature's call. That in itself was a miracle considering the huge amount of caffeine she'd already consumed since she'd arrived.

She'd been so busy she'd totally forgotten about planting the bait recipe in her locked drawer before she'd left the night before. Glancing to her right, she made eye contact with Loretta, who was smiling at her-and not in a friendly way. It was more like an I-bested-you-once-again smirk.

Jordan studied her face for a few moments before grabbing the key from her purse and opening the drawer, fully expecting to find the recipe missing like the last time. But it was there-right where she'd left it. Relief washed over her when she realized Victor's prediction of Loretta breaking into her drawer again had been wrong. She was just beginning to upgrade her faith in the honesty of mankind when she heard Loretta snort.

"You don't think I'd be dumb enough to give you the evidence to run to Egan and report the recipe missing, do you?"

Jordan squinted with a fake-surprised look. "What are you talking about, Loretta?"

"You know good and well what I'm talking about, Red. You just got another step closer out the door." She chuckled. "Go ahead. Check out today's culinary column. Yours is all about how the Italian Festival started back in San Francisco over a decade ago, and mine is a recipe for an awesome braided spaghetti bread." She chuckled again, this time louder. "Which one do you think the readers will like the best?"

Jordan exited the personals page and pulled up the home screen showing today's edition. Even before she clicked over to the culinary column, she already knew what would be there. And she wasn't disappointed. BRAIDED SPAGHETTI BREAD stared out at her in bold letters across the top of the page. Ginny's Braided Spaghetti Bread recipe minus a cup of spaghetti sauce, proving that the woman definitely had lifted it from the drawer.

Ah ha! You've just made your first big mistake, missy.

Biting her lower lip to keep from smiling, she turned to her nemesis. "I hate to tell you this, but the reason I haven't published the recipe myself is because it's missing a key ingredient."

Loretta's face fell. "What key ingredient?"

Jordan shrugged. "I have no idea. All I know is that Ginny left a message on my voicemail that she'd messed up when she wrote it out and that she'd be calling to fix it." She crossed her fingers behind her back as if that would neutralize the lie. "I'm still waiting on that information."

Loretta grabbed the phone and quickly punched in a number. After waiting a few seconds and tapping her nails nervously on the desk, she shouted into the receiver. "Hank, have all the copies of today's edition gone out yet?"

Jordan didn't need to hear the man in the print room on the other end. Everyone knew the day's newspapers had already been delivered in the middle of the night, and she was pretty sure the frown on Loretta's face was caused by hearing Hank confirm that.

She slammed the phone down before turning her fury on Jordan. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Jordan feigned innocence. "I had no idea you would be stupid enough to steal from my drawer a second time, Loretta." She raised one eyebrow. "Maybe you'll get lucky and no one will notice."

"You're a bee-otch."

"Takes one to know one." Jordan turned her attention back to the computer and pulled up the personals again. She had to call on every ounce of willpower she had not to sneak a peek at Loretta's face right then. When she heard Loretta's audible sigh of frustration, she couldn't help herself and smiled once again.

Chalk one up for the new girl.

The rest of the day was uneventful, although every time Loretta's phone rang, Jordan's ears would perk up and she'd lean to her right to listen to the conversation. But there were no angry calls from readers or a summons to Egan's office, which made sense since there hadn't been time for anyone to try the recipe yet.

At exactly five o'clock, she gathered up her stuff and headed out, unable to resist a grin as she pa.s.sed Loretta's empty desk. Shortly after lunch, the woman had pleaded a headache and gone home-probably to work on a damage control strategy.

Driving down Main Street, Jordan glanced up at the overhead banners announcing the festival and felt a surge of excitement. It was a big deal for the area and the vendors who needed a big turnout. She hoped everything went well.

She pulled into a parking s.p.a.ce halfway between Lola's Spiritual Readings and Yesterday's Treasures. She, Lola, and Victor planned to meet Ray and Rosie at the festival. Michael and his radio crew had already been there since four that afternoon to broadcast from the fairway.

As if he'd been watching for her, Victor emerged from the antiques shop and locked the door before sliding into the backseat of her Camry. Immediately, he began to babble on about seeing Loretta's recipe in the newspaper.

"You should've seen the look on her face when I told her the key ingredient was missing," Jordan said, waving h.e.l.lo from the front.

"What? Why'd you go and tell her that? Now she can just reprint it tomorrow," he said, looking up when Lola opened the door and slipped into the front seat. "Hey, girl friend, is that a new mu mu?"

She gave him a disgusted look. "For a fashionista like you claim to be, you should know they don't call them that anymore. I'll have you know I'm wearing a below-the-knee caftan." She smoothed the front of her dress over her generous figure and winked at Jordan.

"Whatever," he said, leaning closer to Jordan. "Back to you. Did you tell Loretta you left out the key ingredient on purpose, or did it slip out accidentally?"

"Of course I meant to tell her. She would've run to Uncle Earl so fast, it would've made my head spin. And I suspect after all the complaints they get tomorrow, Egan and his boss won't think our little plan is as funny as we do. I'll be back to writing only the personals before you can say spaghetti bread."

"Who wants to say it? I want to eat it. But you might have a point. I still say you would've gotten more satisfaction out of her not knowing she'd been had until the boss lowered the boom," he said.

"My satisfaction will be keeping my job." Jordan picked up speed and entered the freeway. "Enough about that. How was your day, Lola?"

"Busy. Seems like everyone wanted their tarot cards read today. Even did a reading for the guy we met the other night when the Italian dude took a dive off the balcony."

"What guy?" Both Jordan and Victor asked in unison.

"You know-that well-dressed man who couldn't keep his eyes off Alex's mother. The one whose daughter was supposed to marry the dead guy."

Jordan nearly swerved off the road. "Emilio Calabrese came by your shop today?"

Lola nodded. "Yes. Said he was checking out downtown Ranchero and remembered that I had mentioned owning the psychic shop. And I gotta say, he seemed wound up tighter than..." She paused. "Suffice it so say he was so wired he couldn't stop his hands from shaking and nearly fell twice getting to the table."

"Do you know why?" Jordan asked.

"He never said, although it was obvious he wanted rea.s.surance that his daughter wouldn't end up in a bad way."

"Those were his words? In a bad way?"

Lola nodded again.

"Wonder what he meant by that?" Victor asked.

"No clue," Jordan said. "Although I do know that Tina was questioned by the Plainville police the other day after Ginny Bruno said she'd seen her go up to the bedroom suite with another man that night, even though Marco was already up there."

"Sheesh!" Lola exclaimed. "Wish I had known that when the guy was in the shop. I could've gotten more specific with my questions to him and maybe discovered if his daughter was the one who offed her fiance."

"Do you think Calabrese thinks Tina pushed Marco off the balcony?" Victor asked from the back.

"I don't know, but he did say he'd do anything for her. He loves her very much."

"Yeah, so much so that he was forcing her to marry a man she didn't love when she was actually in a relationship with his brother."

"What?" Victor rubbed his hands together. "This is getting good-like our own little soap opera. How'd you find out that little tidbit, anyway? Surely, Tina didn't admit it."

"I talked to Bernardo Petrone a few nights ago when I was at the fairgrounds looking for stories. He didn't actually say he and Tina were having a thing, but I got the distinct impression that number one, he didn't really like his brother, and two, he was in love with Tina Calabrese."

"Jeez. This keeps getting better and better." Victor leaned so far forward Jordan could feel his hot breath on the back of her head.

"Is your seatbelt on, Victor?" she asked, shivering involuntarily as the hair on her neck stood at attention. "'Cause you always say I drive like a maniac."

"You do," he replied. "But I'll take my chances. I don't want to miss any of this. Do you have any other juicy gossip you haven't told us?"

"Yes, but I want to hold off until Alex gets here so I only have to tell it once." She giggled. "Wait till you find out what I heard last night."

He groaned. "You're such a tease, Jordan. At least give me a hint."

"Oh, can it, Victor. You're like a little kid who expects everything the second he wants it. She'll tell us in due time," Lola said, before turning to Jordan. "Okay, now that I've gotten back at him for calling my dress a mu mu, you can give us one little hint, can't you?"

Jordan laughed. "Let's just say someone may have confessed to killing Marco last night." She turned and made a big deal of zipping her lips. "That's all you'll get until I feast my eyes on Alex."

She exited the freeway and drove toward the Plainville Fairgrounds, glad to be so close. Knowing how persistent Victor could be, she knew she wouldn't last much longer before he would somehow wiggle the story out of her, and she wanted Alex to hear it first.

"Just so you know, there probably won't be any spaghetti bread tonight," she said, changing the subject.

"d.a.m.n! I was really looking forward to tasting that again. I guess that means Ginny hasn't shown her face at the hotel yet."

Jordan shook her head. "No, and I'm getting really worried, although her sister says it wouldn't be the first time Ginny has disappeared for a few days."

"Let's hope that's all there is to it," Lola said.

After pulling into the parking lot, she spotted Ray's Suburban at the other end. She drove down the row of cars and slid her Camry into the vacant spot beside his vehicle. The minute she was out of the car, Rosie ran up and hugged her.

"Girl, it seems like ages since I last saw you. I've missed you."

"Me too," Jordan said when Rosie finally released her. "But I've been really busy trying to get stories and recipes that will help me keep my job." She failed to mention how much snooping she'd been doing.

"Tell her about the spaghetti bread recipe," Victor said, visibly excited. "It was all my idea."

"I will, but let's get in line first. It's already snaking around the perimeter."

The five of them made their way to the end of the line while Jordan retold the recipe story.

"The old bat finally got a taste of her own medicine," Victor said, obviously proud of himself for thinking of it in the first place.

"It's a good thing Michael's not here," Ray said, thumping the top of his head. "The last time you called her that, he was all over you about it."

Victor ignored him and moved closer to Jordan. "She may know who killed Marco, but she's making us wait until Alex gets here." He stomped his foot. "Come on, kiddo. I'm dying here."

Ray nailed her with a stare. "Tell me you haven't been poking around the murder investigation, little girl. If I'm remembering correctly, every time you start playing detective, you end up in big trouble."

She shook her head. No way she'd fess up to her meddling. "I overheard something that should help Kate's lawyer get her off. That's all."

"Good." Ray turned to the group. "So, who besides me is going to gorge themselves on homemade Italian food?"

"Me, me," Victor said, raising his hand. "And Jordan may be able to get it for us free."

"Oh no, you don't," she said. "I like free food as much as the next guy, but now that I've met a few of the vendors, I know how much they're counting on making a profit." She punched him playfully. "And weren't you just bragging about how much money you made off that antique bedroom set you sold this week?"

"Shh," he whispered with a laugh. "I don't want to spring for everyone tonight."

"Like that would ever happen," Lola said, unable to keep the mischief out of her eyes. "You, my friend, are the biggest cheapskate I know."

"Have you met Michael? He h.o.a.rds every penny we make and socks it back into the apartment building. He even has me packing a lunch everyday because he said I was spending too much on fast food." Victor frowned. "At least that's what he says, but it doesn't take a brain surgeon to know what he's really up to. He thinks I need to lose a few pounds and makes sure I take the carrot sticks he bags for me every day." He chuckled. "Wouldn't he die if he knew I feed them to the two big rabbits behind Myrtle's Diner in exchange for a greasy cheeseburger?"

"What's up with this line? We've barely moved an inch in ten minutes," Rosie complained.

"It's a different world we live in, my friend," Ray said. "Security is much tighter everywhere you go."

"I know that, but I don't have to like it," she said as the line finally began to move. "Alright!"

Even so, it took them fifteen minutes to make it inside the gate and another fifteen to purchase food and ride tickets. Then they started down the fairway for a night of fun. Jordan had already decided the next few hours would be strictly all play and no work, and from the looks of it, everyone from Plainville and the neighboring cities had the same idea. There were lines at every food booth, and the Ferris wheel was going nonstop with a full load every time and a line that wrapped around two food booths.

At the end of the fairway, they turned around to walk down the other side to check everything else out. Several booths down, the area had been cleared, and there was a Bocce ball tournament in progress.

When they stopped to watch, Victor asked, "So what's the object of this game, Jordan? Two old guys at one end try to get their big b.a.l.l.s close to the smaller one at the other end where another two old guys are waiting their turns?"

She laughed. "It's more complicated than that. The smaller ball is called a pallino, and they score points by-"

"Hey, Jordan, do you want to be my partner and play?"

Everyone turned to the young boy who was now looking up at Jordan with adoring eyes.

"Can't tonight. Sorry."

Victor tsked. "A little young even for you, Jordan. Don't you think?"