Клео Коул - French Pressed

Tommy rubbed his jutting chin and studied me for a long, silent moment. “Clare, do you by any chance remember the night you met me? It was at the Beekman Hotel, during that coffee-tasting party last month?”

“How could I forget?”

Tommy snorted. “You looked like you wanted to slap me—or strangle me with your bare hands.”

“What are you? Psychic? That was my exact thought.”

“I didn’t have to be psychic to know what you were thinking. I could see it in your face—and, to be completely honest, I was shocked at how young your face was.”

“What?”

“When Joy told me we’d be meeting her mother at the party, I expected a little old gray-haired lady, like my own mother back in Phoenix. When I saw how young you were, not to mention how attractive, I started to realize just how young Joy was. I know that probably sounds like a monumental cop-out on my part, but…” Tommy shrugged. “After that night I couldn’t quite see her the same way anymore. I actually got to thinking you were more my speed.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Take it easy. I’m not hitting on you…” He raised an eyebrow. “Not unless you want me to.”

“I want you to end your affair with Joy.”

“Is that so?” Tommy leaned back against a wooden shelf and crossed his arms. “Normally I wouldn’t take a directive like that seriously. I wouldn’t even take an order like that from my wife seriously.”

“Then I feel sorry for you—and your wife.”

“Well, you don’t know my wife, Clare. I’m just a paycheck to her. Not that it’s your business.”

“I know it’s not. But I am Joy’s mother, and even though she’s a grown woman now, I feel I have a right to protect her from—”

“Stop.” Tommy held up his hand. “Don’t lecture me. I’ve already made the decision to break it off. So you can save your sanctimonious speech for Joy’s next inappropriate suitor.”

“Really? You’re going to end the affair?”

“Really.”

I closed my eyes with extreme relief. “Thank you, Lord.”

“You’re welcome, but I already told you to call me Tommy.”

I opened my eyes. The man was smirking again. “You know, Keitel, you may have the biggest ego of any man I’ve ever met—including my ex-husband. And believe me, that’s not an easy feat.”

Tommy laughed. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“Well, it wasn’t meant that way.”

“How do you think I got here, Clare? By being consumed with self-doubt?”

I frowned. How could I argue with that?

“Stop fretting, okay?” he said. “I’m telling Joy today. I actually can’t stand it anymore. She just won’t stop hitting on me. It’s embarrassing.”

Despite my relief at hearing the end was near, I couldn’t help feeling offended by Keitel’s words. “Listen, mister, you’re talking about my daughter, and—”

“You’re taking offense. Don’t. She’s a lovely girl. But she’s just that: a girl. I’m not interested in romancing her. I’m way beyond that crap. Frankly, I forgot how needy young women at Joy’s age are. She wants continual reassurance. She wants constant attention. She wants things I can’t begin to give her…so I’m sending her to Anatomy.”

“What?” My head was spinning with the multiple bull’s-eyes the man was hitting. This guy was way more evolved than I gave him credit for. “Say that again? Where are you sending her?”

“To Anatomy,” he repeated. “You haven’t heard of Robbie Gray’s three-star downtown?”

“Yes…of course I’ve heard of the restaurant. It’s just that…Joy’s been so happy working here at Solange. Are you telling me that you’re firing her?”

“I’m relocating her, that’s all. Robbie’s a good guy and a brilliant chef—not as brilliant as me , you understand.” He gave me a little wink, presumably to take the edge off his unbridled arrogance. “He’ll take over her internship year. I talked to her school an hour ago, told her Vinny’s death was too much of a shock since they were friends. And it’s better for her to relocate. They agreed. I’m going to give her top grades for her work so far. There won’t be any problems.”

I knew this would be very hard for Joy to take. She wouldn’t get the breaks at Anatomy that she’d gotten under Keitel, but then it wouldn’t be the first time in history that the end of an affair on the job would end the job, as well. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world for Joy to learn that early in her working life.

“So.” Tommy smiled. “Are you going to slap me now?”

“No.”

“Too bad. It might have been a turn-on—for you .”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re sick, you know that?”

“I’m just an uninhibited package of self-actualized testosterone. You can’t condemn me for that.”

“Yes, I can. And, the truth is, I’m relieved that Joy’s leaving your restaurant. For a lot of reasons. You do know that Vincent Buccelli was killed with a knife from your kitchen?”

“What?” Tommy’s confident mask suddenly fell. He looked genuinely horrified. “I didn’t know that. The police never mentioned it.”

“They will. My guess is today’s interviews were only the first round. And since we’re being truthful here, I’ll be truthful, too. I only came here today because of Joy. I wanted to get in here to keep an eye on her—more precisely, the people around her. The way Vinny was killed suggests someone with knife skills did the deed. The knife’s handle and blade shape resemble the ones you’ve got here at the restaurant, and I believe someone here at the restaurant killed that boy.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“I don’t know. But I’d like to find out. Did you know Vinny was gay?”

“No.”

“Did he have any kind of special friendship or relationship with anyone at your restaurant?”

“The police asked me that, and, frankly, I don’t know…If he was, it wasn’t obvious. He certainly kept it under wraps.”

“And did you say anything to the police about you and Joy using Vinny’s apartment for sex?”

“Merde.” Tommy closed his eyes, took a breath. “How do you know about that? Did Joy tell you?”

I nodded. “But she didn’t tell the police.”

“I didn’t, either.” He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “I didn’t think it was smart to give them a reason to look harder at her—or me, frankly.”

“Should they have?”

“You think I killed that boy?” Tommy met my eyes and held them. “I’m an ambitious prick, Clare. And I can be cutthroat in my business decisions. But I’m not a murderer…with maybe one exception.” His fists clenched. “When I think of an innocent kid like Vincent Buccelli being stabbed to death, it makes me want to kill whoever did it.”

Either Tommy was very good at faking honesty, or he was actually being honest with me. In this close proximity, I leaned toward the latter.

“If you didn’t hurt Vinny, then who did?”

“I told you, Clare, I don’t know. He was a quiet kid. He didn’t have any close friends here, apart from Joy, or enemies—apart from Brigitte picking on him constantly, which is only one of the reasons I let her go.”

“There are other reasons?”

“Brigitte’s back on uppers again. I don’t know which kind, but she knew the conditions of my hiring her. No drugs. She’s using again, so she’s fired.”

I nodded, knowing Brigitte may or may not have been responsible for Vinny. Either way, I had to consider other possibilities—and fast. Tommy’s patience could run out on me any second in his chilly cave. And I was close to freezing. But now was my best shot at getting some answers.