Page 51 of Macaron Massacre
“Wow, that’s brave of him. What’s he doing here? Publicly contesting the win?”
“Are you kidding? Mayor Trash won by a landslide.”
“You’re going to call him Mayor Trash for the foreseeable future, aren’t you?”
“Nope. Just as long as he’s laying his greasy mitts on our mother.”
“Newsflash. I think she rather likes his greasy mitts.”
Meg grunts their way, “I hate that you’re right.”
“Anyway, that was really nice of you to team up with Scott Dushane. He really didn’t have a strong support group like you know who.”
“Are you kidding? He’s got the girls down in Leeds eating out of the palm of his hand. He’s hot, and he knows it.”
“That’s the worst kind of man,” I muse. “Hey, he should run for the mayor of Leeds. I bet he’d win that race in a G-string-riddled landslide.”
“I don’t think so. Everyone down there knows he hangs out with the Canellis.”
“Really?” I’m taken aback by this, partially because I assumed due to his mayoral run he was squeaky clean.
“Yup. He’s lifelong friends with Jimmy Canelli, Louie the Lion’s brother.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t front him a ton of money to kick his campaign over the edge.”
“Word at the club is Louie doesn’t like him.”
My heart begins to pulsate. “Doesn’t like him? Then I bet he would easily deny him just about any request.” I glance back to see the city council members dispersing toward the buffet while Scott finishes up a conversation with an older man. “I’d better make sure the cookies are doing well in this heat.”
I take off, but I don’t head in the direction of my macaron towers. Instead, my feet land me right before Scott Dushane just as the elderly man he was speaking with takes off for the buffet line.
“Hey, Scott.” I keep my voice upbeat and light, even though my heart is suddenly drumming in my chest. “Sorry you didn’t win.”
He belts out a short-lived laugh as he raises his jewel-toned drink my way, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath from here.
“We’re all winners today, Lottie. The best man won.” The smile glides right off his face, and he downs the rest of his liquor.
“So, what are you doing here? I mean, that’s very kind of you. In fact, I commend your bravery. If it were me, I’d be home snuggled up with my cats, licking my wounds.”
He sets the glass down on the table next to him and leans in. “Can I tell you a secret?”
I nod frenetically, convinced he’s about to confess. Although, I have to admit, I’m having a hard time connecting the dots to this one. But I can feel something, a hunch, a knowing. I just have to be heading in the right direction.
He expires a lungful of whiskey my way. “I am licking my wounds.” He breaks out into a spontaneous chuckle. “And —I’m technically here to concede. Mayor Nash thought it would be a good move for me—read, a good move for him. Nonetheless, I agreed. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a bad sport.”
“Can I ask if you’ve ever gambled with Rich Dallas?” I just have to know who helped give Rich that big win.
His mouth opens and closes. He takes a few steps back as if I’ve caught him off guard. “I’m sorry, Lottie. Mayor Nash gave us strict instructions not to utter that man’s name at his victory party. You know how the press has been. Look, I’ve left my speech back in my car, and I’ve still got to hit the buffet. But it was nice seeing you again. And trust me, I’m going to eat a fistful of those cookies.”
“No, wait. I just have to know. It could help me solve this case. I know for a fact he was a part of the Canelli underground poker ring.”
His eyes enlarge for a moment. “You don’t want to mess with them. And, believe me, that’s another name you don’t want to utter around here. I should know.”
“You gambled with Rich, didn’t you?” I suck in a quick breath as I struggle to keep up with him. “Scott, were you with Rich the night he got his big win? It’s pertinent I get this information.”
His body moves farther away from me progressively. His breathing grows erratic as he looks around the vicinity. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he were guilty.
“Oh my God,” I pant as a thought occurs to me. “Meg said she looked at your contributors’ records, and it should have been a lot more than your budget suggests. You gambled the money away, didn’t you?”