Watchin' The Detective: A Mystery Dinner Romance (15 page)

Isabella stops dead in her tracks and buys
the paper. She stands in front of the courthouse scanning the
article.
I knew it from the first. It was that Hamid.
She’s
glad to see that Karen isn’t a suspect. In the back of her mind,
she had been wondering if maybe Karen paid Hamid to do it. She
can’t wait to show the article to Nicole. She wishes she could
discuss it with the detective, but that train has left the
station—never to return.

When Isabella walks into the library and
over to the reference desk, she sees Nicole reading the paper. Her
friend says, “Did you see this?”

“I haven’t read the whole article yet, but
it looks like Hamid was the killer.”

Nicole tells her, “He was a Mafia hit-man.
Just like something out of the ‘Sopranos’.”

Isabella reads the rest of the article and
says, “So, Dean Black had gambling debts he wasn’t paying
back.”

“Yes. And even after he died, Hamid was
still trying to get money out of Karen.”

“That must have been why she was crying that
day at Sarducci’s. I’m glad Karen had nothing to do with her
husband’s death.”

“Are you going to ever see her again?”

“And tell her that I changed my appearance
so that I could stalk her?”

“I guess that wouldn’t go over very
well.”

“I feel sad because I like Karen and, under
ordinary circumstances, would have liked to spend more time with
her. She has a gorgeous house and is such a good cook.”

“Well, you’ll just have to settle for
me.”

“You’re my number-one person and always will
be.”

“What about the detective? Are you going to
call and congratulate him?”

“No. My days of calling him are over.”

“Maybe he’ll call you.”

“Fat chance.”

“Maybe he’s been waiting for the
investigation to be over before he asks you on a date.”

“What planet are you on?”

“I’m just saying…”

“Oh, well. At least I don’t have to think
about who the killer was anymore. That was taking up too much space
in my brain.”

Nicole says, “You know, you were a big
reason that the murder was solved. Your picture of the gun and
Hamid’s cufflink must have been the turning point in the
investigation. That’s a big success for you.”

“Well, thanks for the Nancy Drew award. Time
to get back to my real job.”

Chapter
Twenty-Six

Isabella sits in her kitchen contemplating
what to have for dinner. She hasn’t been to the store lately and
her refrigerator looks like a science experiment. She rifles
through the freezer and finds a frozen dinner that looks edible.
Well, it beats going to the store,
she thinks. She turns
over the package and sees it’s sell by date has long since gone by.
Dejectedly, she drops the frozen dinner into the trash and plops
herself down at the kitchen table. From where she sits she can see
the birds are devouring what’s left of the sunflowers she planted
earlier that year. They seem so happy and oblivious to anything but
eating. She wishes it could all be that easy. Just then her phone
rings, which makes her jump.

“Hello?”

“Isabella? It’s Joshua. What’s up?”

“Oh, not much. Just hanging out, you
know.”

“Well, Nicole and I were going out for some
Thai and thought, well maybe you’d like to come along. Do you like
Thai food?”

“Oh, you guys are so nice. I’m pretty tired,
though. I think I’m going to stay in tonight. Maybe another
time.”

“You sure?” Isabella can hear Nicole’s voice
in the background begging her to come.

“Nah. I’m staying in, guys. You two go out
and have a good time. Let’s do something tomorrow.”

“Well, OK. Uh, we could bring you some
take-out Thai if you like? They do some killer ginger chicken.”

“Next time, Joshua. Thanks anyways.” She’s
beginning to get a bit annoyed with him. He won’t take no for an
answer. She wants to just stay home tonight and maybe soak in the
tub, away from everyone. She hears the call waiting beep in her
phone, which angers her some more.
Why don’t people just leave
me alone
?

“Joshua? I’m sorry, but I’ve got another
call coming in. You guys enjoy yourself and I’ll talk to you later,
OK?”

“Okay. Have a good one.” She hangs up on
Joshua and then presses the call waiting button, ready to give the
caller a piece of her mind.
Probably someone trying to sell me
something I don’t need!

“Hello,” she says firmly and angrily.

“Isabella? Is that you?”

Isabella doesn’t recognize the voice and
asks forcefully, “Who’s this?”

“It’s Don. Did I catch you at a bad
time?”

“Uh, well, No! Of course not!”

She sits up straight and neatens her
clothes, as if he’s sitting right there in the room with her. She’s
not sure whether to be mad at him for not calling her or beg for
his attention.

“Don, why are you calling? I mean, did
something happen? Am I in more trouble? I saw the newspapers today
and--”

“Isabella, slow down. Take a breath and
relax. I just wondered if you had dinner plans. I thought I could
introduce you to one of my favorite places; but if you’re busy,
then we can do it another time.”

“No! No, I mean Yes! I mean no. I don’t have
any dinner plans. I would love to go to dinner.”

“Good, then it’s settled. How about if I
pick you up at say 7:00? Will that work?”

“Yes! That’s perfect. What should I wear? Is
it casual or should I dress up?”

“Will you dress up for me?”

Now she really is caught speechless. She
could say so many things right now but all she can muster is, “Yes,
I will.”

“See you then, Isabella. Goodbye.”

“Hey…wait a minute. Don’t you need to know
where I live?”

“I already know your address. We detectives
have our ways.”

She laughs and says, “Okay. See you soon.”
When she hangs up the phone, she notices her hands are shaking. She
feels a sense of relief and wonderful anticipation about where Don
is going to take her. Everything is different now. The depression
has lifted and she’s excited again
. Oh my God, I’ve got to get
ready! He’ll be here in an hour.
Off she goes, spinning like a
banshee, moving from her bedroom and the bathroom, putting on her
best for him.

*******

At just before seven, her doorbell rings and
she peeks outside to see her detective standing in the doorway with
a small wrapped box in his hand. She opens the door and says, “It’s
so great to see you again. Come in.”

“You look beautiful tonight, Isabella.
You’re wearing that dress I like.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome.”

He comes in and offers her the box, while
giving her a small peck on the cheek. She acts surprised and asks,
“What’s this?”

“It’s my way of saying I’m sorry. I hope you
can forgive me for how I was the last time we were together.”

“Oh, don’t think anything of it. I
understand,” she answers, trying to act like it meant nothing to
her.

“Have a seat on the sofa while I unwrap this
wonderful present,” she says. “Whatever could it be?”

He tells her, “I really love your house.
When was it built?”

“In 1942.” When she opens the present, she’s
speechless. He has given her two train tickets on a vintage Pullman
sleeper car to San Simeon, where they will be taken to Hearst
castle for a behind the scenes’ tour, culminating in a catered
gourmet dinner by the castle’s famous Greek pool.

Her face is frozen and she can’t open her
mouth.

He asks, “Are you going to say
anything?”

“This is so perfect.”

“I know how much you like trains.”

“Will you be coming with me?”

“Of course, silly.”

“This is the best present I’ve ever been
given. I absolutely love it!”

“Maybe someday I’ll be able to give you a
trip on the Orient Express.”

Isabella lets out a gasp and says, “Just
like my bathtub fantasy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to come in my bathtub and find
out?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

###

The End

Thank you for reading our romance novel,
Watchin’ the Detective: A Mystery Dinner
Romance.
If you liked what you read, would you kindly rate
our book at your retailer? Thank you.

The sequel to this novel is called
Honeymoon in New Orleans.
It is available
now as an eBook at your favorite on-line bookstores. For an excerpt
of the first chapters, please read below:

A handsome man who looks like Don Draper from
“Mad Men” and a full-figured redhead are on their way to New
Orleans to get married. The lovers, Don and Isabella, are taking
the red-eye. Their plane touches down in New Orleans at 4:00 in the
morning. There is a light rain falling as the taxi drives to the
French Quarter. When they reach “The Quarter”, they love all of the
buildings and the way the lights are reflected in the rainy street.
There isn’t a tourist to be found, and all of the streets are
deserted except for a teenage African-American boy dressed like
Gainsborough’s “Blue Boy” who is playing a trumpet in the shelter
of a doorway on Royal Street.

Don says, “Listen to him. I think he’s
playing ‘Stardust’ by Louis Armstrong.”

“How wonderful!” his fiancée says.

They are staying on the outer edge of the
French Quarter on Esplanade Avenue at The Lamothe House. It was
built by a wealthy sugar cane planter in 1839. It has two
Corinthian columns at its entrance and the entire building stands
out in the neighborhood because it is painted pink. The taxi drops
them off and they ring the doorbell. A night clerk opens the door,
looking like he’s just been woken up. The couple immediately falls
in love with the hotel, once he lets them inside. The first thing
they notice is the wonderful scent of roses from a large vase in
the foyer. The clerk leads them to the suite upstairs. Isabella
says, “It smells heavenly in here.”

Yes, ma’am,” the clerk says.

Isabella asks, “Does this hotel have
ghosts?”

“Why yes, I believe it does,” the night clerk
answers. “Some of our guests have reported seeing a woman in red
walking the hallways looking for her baby that died.”

“Oh, you don’t believe that. Do you?” Don
asks.

“Who am I to say? This is New Orleans and
there are many things here that you may find hard to believe,” the
night clerk answers.

He shows them to their rooms and tells them,
“Watch out for the red woman’s ghost. We haven’t seen her for a
while. You never know when she’ll return.”

“So much for catching up on our sleep,”
Isabella says.

“You’ll be fine, honey,” the clerk says.
“Just be sure to lock your door.”

After he leaves and they are unpacking,
Isabella says, “That guy kind of gives me the creeps.”

Don looks out of their upstairs’ window and
sees the city starting to wake up. “Come look,” he tells her.

“How beautiful it is here,” she says.

They hear a calliope playing in the distance.
“That must be the riverboat. I can’t wait to take a ride on the
Creole Queen,” she tells him.

He puts his arm around her and says, “Let’s
go to bed.”

Later that morning, they dress and go to the
dining room for breakfast. There are other guests sitting around a
large antique table. The concierge introduces herself as Madeline,
and tells them the names of the other guests. She tells the other
diners, “Don and Isabella are getting married at St. Louis
Cathedral this week.”

“Do you have a date set?” the concierge asks
Isabella.

“The day after tomorrow.”

“How romantic!” a middle-aged woman with a
heavy Southern accent says. “So, how did you two meet?”

Don and Isabella look at each other,
wondering which one of them is going to speak first, and Don says,
“We met at a murder mystery dinner.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to one of those,”
Madeline answers.

Don says, “Well, you probably wouldn’t have
wanted to go to the one we were at because someone really did get
murdered.”

“You’re kidding?” Madeline says.

“No. I’m dead serious. A man was shot while
he was watching the show.”

“Wow!” one of the male diners says.

“How thrilling!” the middle-aged lady
says.

Isabella says, “Don was the investigating
detective. The first time he met me, I was one of the diners at the
mystery dinner. He interviewed me like I was a suspect.”

Don corrects her, “Now, Isabella. You know
that I never thought you had a hand in it. You were a witness.”

“Was it love at first sight?” the Southern
lady, who’s clearly attracted to Don, asks Isabella.

She replies, “Are you kidding? Just look at
this gorgeous man,” she says, possessively putting her arm around
him in his chair. “Would it be anything but ‘love at first
sight’?”

“I bet it was!” all of the ladies at the
table acknowledge.

Don replies, “And, look at this gorgeous, hot
redhead. Would it be anything other than ‘love at first sight’ for
me either?”

The men sitting around the table all nod
their heads. One of them says to Isabella, “You look a lot like
Joan on Mad Men.”

She answers, “I’ve heard that before. In
fact, that was the first thing Don ever said to me.”

Don answers, “She definitely stuck out in the
crowd. I made a beeline for her first thing, out of a whole room
full of people.”

Madeline gushes, “What a romantic story!”
She’s temporarily lost in a daydream and then comes back down to
earth by saying, “Good grief! Where are my manners? Would you two
like some chicory coffee? It’s a long-standing tradition in New
Orleans,” she says, clearly back in her concierge role.