Part 14 (1/2)
”Have you heard from your sister?”
Carlita lowered her eyes and shook her head. ”I'm trying not to be worried, but I can't help it. I keep telling myself that it's just Ginny being Ginny. She's been known to go off on her own for a few days to sort things out whenever her life becomes messy, and I'm hoping that's what she's doing now.”
”And is her life messy now?”
”I didn't think so. We were both looking forward to a profitable festival, and then we were going to take our time driving back to New Jersey. Even talked about spending a few days in Branson.” She motioned for Jordan to sit down at the small desk. ”Do you want something to drink? We have a cooler with sodas.”
Jordan shook her head. ”I'm fine. I stopped to find out about Ginny, of course, but also to tell you that her recipe for chicken cacciatore was printed in yesterday's newspaper. Another woman at the paper stole the copy from my locked desk drawer and published it without my knowledge. Since I promised not to print her recipes until after the festival ended, I wanted her to know I didn't renege on our deal.”
The news didn't seem to bother Carlita, and she shrugged. ”In the big scheme of things, that seems unimportant right now. Unless I hear from Ginny soon, neither one of us will be partic.i.p.ating in the festivities this year, anyway. I had them take down both of our signs until we know something one way or another.”
A mental picture of all those Italian Cream Cake b.a.l.l.s going to waste popped into Jordan's mind before she mentally slapped the thought away. ”Did Ginny find someone she was interested in?” she asked as delicately as she could.
Carlita picked nervously at the cuff of her blouse before a half smile covered her face. ”Only your friend, but after he insulted her, she swore off men altogether.”
”My friend didn't mean to hurt her feelings,” Jordan said, quickly defending Victor. ”He actually thought he was complimenting her.”
Carlita tsked. ”Isn't that just like a man? I once had a guy who was courting me say that for a fat girl, I didn't sweat much. Like I was supposed to be happy about that.” She tsked again before grabbing a Diet Pepsi from the ice chest. After pouring it into one of the clean gla.s.ses from the dresser, she looked up at Jordan. ”I've been on Ginny's case for years about her mustache, but she didn't see anything wrong with it since our mom had one, too. I tried to convince her that back in Mom's day, all the women had them, but the new generation of Italian females now go for bare upper lips.”
She paused to take a sip. ”Two hours after your friend told her he liked her mustache, she made an appointment at the beauty salon down the street and had it waxed off. Looks a hundred percent better now.”
”Really? So Victor's ignorance didn't totally ruin her day?”
”On the contrary. When she returned from the salon and checked out the finished product in the mirror, she even commented that maybe now, he'd like what he saw.”
It was Jordan's turn to laugh. ”I'm here to tell you that'll never happen. My friend isn't interested in women.”
Suddenly getting it, Carlita's eyes twinkled with merriment. ”Obviously, neither one of us is very observant.”
Jordan chuckled with her. ”I still tease Victor about it. At any rate, he wanted me to tell her that he was sorry if he upset her.”
Carlita's eyes again clouded over with worry. ”I pray that she's okay.”
”I'm sure she is, Carlita. Let's hope she's off somewhere working out the problems in her life.” Even as she said it, Jordan couldn't help thinking it may already have been too late for hope or prayer.
”I appreciate you stopping by to tell me all this. I saw the article you wrote about me and Ginny, and I want to thank you for that, too.” She stood up. ”Can you stay and have breakfast with me?”
Jordan sighed. ”I wish I could, but I'm already going to get a lecture from my boss for being late.” She got up and walked to the door before digging into her purse for one of the business cards Egan had made when she'd taken over the job as the culinary reporter permanently. After she scribbled her cell phone number on the back, she handed it to Carlita. ”Will you call me when you hear from Ginny?”
”I will. I appreciate you coming out here to check on her. Can I at least send you to work with a few cake b.a.l.l.s?”
”As much as I love your cake b.a.l.l.s, the next time I eat them, it will be Friday night at the Italian Festival, along with Ginny's cacciatore.”
”G.o.d bless you for saying that.”
Jordan opened the door, waving one last time before she walked out. At the elevator, she slapped her head. What was the matter with her? She had just turned down a dessert that had to be ranked right up there in her top ten favorites of all time.
After stepping off the elevator on the first floor, she made it all the way to the exit, before suddenly turning back. Slipping past the desk clerk who was so engrossed in her computer game that she didn't even bother to glance up, she bypa.s.sed the elevator and walked to the stairwell door beside it. This was where the cameras had picked up Ginny Bruno leaving with an unknown person the last time she was seen.
She followed the steps down to the bas.e.m.e.nt where she heard what sounded like dryers going full blast and spotted the laundry room in the back corner of the huge room. Walking in the opposite direction toward a door that looked like it opened to the outside, she let out a squeal when an older man in a janitor's uniform touched her arm.
”Sorry I scared you, miss. Are you lost? The guest rooms are all upstairs.”
She put on her best girlie face and giggled. ”Guess I am. Since I'm here, I'll just go out this way.”
”That door takes you right out to the alley. The only things out there are garbage cans and a few stray cats.”
”I'll be fine,” she said, walking away before he could stop her. She turned around, deciding to play a hunch. ”Were you by chance on duty yesterday morning at the crack of dawn?”
”I live here, missy, and I work a split s.h.i.+ft every day. Four hours in the morning and four in the evening. So, yes, I would've been here then.”
Her hope mounted. ”And did you see a woman in her thirties with olive skin and dark hair leaving out this door?”
He rubbed his chin as if he had to think about it for a moment. ”Sure did. She was with a man in a hooded tee-s.h.i.+rt, I believe. There was something on the back, but I couldn't really see what it said.”
Her hopes skyrocketed. ”Did you see maybe a picture or something else on the s.h.i.+rt?”
He looked pensive before replying, ”I kind of remember the letters ON.”
”Did it appear she was being forced to leave?”
”Not really. Matter of fact I saw her smile up at him and say something as they went out the door, like she knew him.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
The day dragged on until it was finally time to leave for the picnic. Jordan was going straight from the office to the fairgrounds and planned on staying only about an hour-long enough to get a few more recipes and maybe a good story or two before sneaking away. Even after drinking a beer the night before, sleep had evaded her, and she hadn't been able to stop yawning since lunchtime.
”Late night, Red?”
She swiveled her chair around to face Loretta Moseley after another long yawn. ”Wouldn't you like to know?”
Staring at her nemesis, she remembered Victor's idea of leaving the spaghetti bread recipe that he'd rewritten in the locked drawer of her desk. He'd been so excited about beating Loretta at her own game, there was no doubt he'd lecture her for hours if she forgot to do it. Turning her back to the other woman, she made a big production out of digging the envelope from her purse.
After unfolding the paper, she pretended to read it over, trying hard not to glance Loretta's way to see if she was watching. As promised, Victor had left out the key ingredient-the spaghetti sauce. Without it, the entree would just be dry noodles and cheese in the middle of a loaf of bread.
Jordan counted on Loretta having never actually tasted the finished product and not realizing something was missing. Sneaking a glance over her shoulder, she could see the woman pretending to be working away on her computer, yet watching her every move.
She leaned over, opened the drawer, and slid the envelope in. Then she locked it and threw the key into her purse, just like the last time. She glanced furtively over her shoulder to verify that Loretta was indeed still watching her. In that instant she knew Victor had been right and that her coworker would take the bait. After shutting down her computer, she turned out the light over her desk before gathering up her purse and walking toward the exit door.
Twisting around halfway there, she made eye contact with Loretta who was outright staring now. ”Are you going to the picnic?”
Loretta shrugged. ”Maybe later. Right now I have to finish up tomorrow's column.”
Jordan waved goodbye and continued to make her way to the exit, biting her lower lip to keep from smiling. If tomorrow's column included the spaghetti bread recipe, Loretta was in for a rough weekend as her readers baked it using her directions.
By the time she slid behind the wheel of her car, she was already checking her watch to see how long she'd have to spend at the picnic before heading home and crawling into bed. With tomorrow being opening day of the festival, tonight was more or less a test run for the food vendors and arcade employees to work out any kinks before tomorrow night's opening. It was also the only time they'd be able to engage in a little festivities themselves.