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Authors: Chris Cavender

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths

A Slice of Murder (11 page)

BOOK: A Slice of Murder
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“I’m holding you to that,” she said as I walked out front to join Greg.

By the time our late-afternoon crowd began to trickle in, I was comfortable working the front again. Even though I knew how much Maddy preferred dealing with customers, I decided to give her a full shift in the kitchen so she could appreciate what I did at A Slice of Delight. That didn’t mean I thought her job was easy, but it wasn’t as tough as keeping up with half a dozen orders, and that didn’t even include the pick-up and delivery services we usually ran.

In an hour, I realized that her job was no walk in the park, either. Along with Greg, I had made small talk with at least a dozen people, all the while keeping their orders straight, making sure their soda and sweet iced tea glasses were full, seating new customers, and busing a table or two thrown into the mix. Maybe we both needed a night of shared roles.

I was about ready to throw in the towel, promising myself I’d seat one more customer, when David Quinton came in. I was prepared to fend him off again when I noticed that he wasn’t alone. There was a nice-looking redhead just behind him, and from the way she kept looking at him, it was clear they were there on a date. Well, good for him.

“Good evening,” I said as I led them to one of our better tables.

“Thanks,” David said. It was pretty clear he’d been expecting Maddy up front and had been surprised by my presence. That was too bad. You can’t just walk into my pizza place and not expect to see me.

“Greg will be right with you to take your orders,” I said as I started back toward the kitchen.

Greg intercepted me at the door. “I can’t believe that.”

“What, that one of our customers is here on a date? Take care of him, would you? I’ve got to talk to Maddy.”

I found my sister in the kitchen, happily humming a tune. I expected to see her iPod in but saw it on the counter.

“Are you back here humming?”

She smiled. “I forgot how much fun this was,” she said.

If she was bluffing, she was doing an excellent job.

“Sorry to steal your joy, but I need you to work the front.”

“It’s harder than it looks, isn’t it?” There was a gleam in her eyes as she asked the question, just waiting for me to lie.

“You know what? You’re right. I think you and Greg both deserve a raise.”

“What’s going on, Eleanor?” she asked.

“What do you mean? I’m paying you a compliment.”

Maddy took off her apron and threw it on the prep table. “That’s what I mean. Something had to have happened. Otherwise you never would have let me get away with that crack about a raise.”

I had decided to let her find out for herself, but I found the words tumbling out instead. “David Quinton’s here, and he’s not alone. He’s on a date.”

“No,” Maddy said in obvious disbelief. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“He’s right out front,” I said. “I really can’t blame him. I’ve turned him down enough times. Why shouldn’t he find someone else to ask out? Didn’t I tell him to do exactly that right here last night? He’s just following my advice.”

Maddy said, “Even so, did he have to do it in your restaurant? I’ve got to see this for myself.”

“Don’t,” I said, making a grab for her.

But she was too elusive. Maddy ducked out for nine seconds, then came back in.

“That wasn’t too suspicious,” I said.

“Who cares? What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not out there.”

I peeked through the window in the door, but David and his date were gone. “Maybe Greg moved them.”

As he came back to give me an order, I asked, “What happened to David and his date?”

“I have no idea,” Greg said. “One second they were sitting there, and when I turned my back on them, they were gone.”

“I can’t imagine why,” I said.

“Then why are your cheeks getting red?” Maddy asked.

“It’s the heat back here,” I said, dabbing at my dry forehead. Okay, seeing my would-be suitor out with someone else had stung a little more than I’d expected it to. It wasn’t that I was being disloyal to my husband. Joe was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. No one knew that better than I did.

So why?

I honestly had no idea.

“That frees up a table,” I said. “Have you got any orders for me, Greg? I’m taking back my kitchen.”

Greg looked at Maddy for a split second, and she nodded her approval, as if I needed that.

“Let me remind you two,” I said, “I’m the one who writes the paychecks around here. That means I’m in charge. Now, both of you need to get back to work.”

They left me alone in the kitchen, and as I filled the order Greg had just given me, I had to wonder if there was more to my feelings for David than I’d admitted.

I didn’t have much time for worrying about that, though. Maddy came back ten minutes later and said, “Celeste is here, and she’s got something for us.”

Chapter 8

“W
hat did you find out, Celeste?” Maddy asked as she led her back into my kitchen.

“I thought you two promised me something to eat,” she said as she looked around. “I’m so hungry, I could eat an entire pizza by myself right now.”

“If you make it worth our while, I can make that happen,” I said.

“But no food until we find out what you uncovered,” Maddy said.

Celeste seemed to think about that, then said, “Why don’t you make me one of your specialty pizzas, and while it’s in the oven, I’ll tell you what I found.”

“It’s a deal,” I said. I prepared a medium crust, added the sauce, and started laying on the toppings and cheese.

After I was through, I put it on the conveyor and said, “All we do now is wait.”

“Where’s the big wood-fired oven?” she asked as she looked around.

“Not here,” I said. “We use a conveyor oven. Now, did you really come here to learn about pizza making, or do you have something for us?”

“I was just asking,” she said.

After a second, she dug into her purse and pulled out a notice to appear in court. “How’s this for a meal ticket?”

“Is it about the property line dispute?” I asked.

Maddy’s eyebrows flew upward, since I’d neglected to tell her what Nancy Taylor had told me earlier.

“You know about that, do you?” Celeste asked.

She started to put the summons back into her purse, when Maddy said, “Since you brought it, I’ll take a look at it.” Maddy took the paper, then said, “Hey, this is just a copy. Where’s the original?”

“Back at the house,” Celeste said. “You didn’t actually think I was going to steal anything, did you? I’m bonded, Maddy, and I can’t afford a blemish on my record.”

“This doesn’t violate anything?” my sister asked as she waved the copy in the air.

“It’s borderline, but I’ll be all right as long as no one knows. That man had a copier in his office. Can you believe it?”

“I saw it,” I said. “Did you find anything else?”

“Okay, how about this?” Celeste asked as she pulled out another sheet of paper.

“Another copy?” Maddy asked.

“A copy of a copy, I’m guessing.” Celeste replied.

I took the paper and saw that it was an e-mail addressed to Richard Olsen. It appeared that there was going to be an internal audit of the sales reps’ books for his company, and Richard was to report in two days.

He wasn’t going to make it.

Within the e-mail, there was also a notification that because a grievance had been filed, security cameras had been installed in the master shredding facility and the tapes would be monitored every night to ensure customer privacy.

Below the body of the general e-mail, Carl Wilson, the company owner, had added that Richard needed to bring in everything that he had that was company property.

From the look of it, Richard had been about to get fired, and perhaps worse. Was he stealing from the company? I couldn’t imagine them not noticing that a hundred thousand dollars was missing. And what about the grievance the owner had mentioned. Was it possible that my suspicions were right, that Richard had sorted through the papers to be shredded and had found something worth blackmailing for? The e-mail asked more questions than it answered, but it was certainly something that was worth looking into.

Celeste had been watching me, and as I handed the e-mail over to Maddy, I said, “You might have something there.”

“Did you find any lavender envelopes?” I asked as Maddy scanned the document.

“There were a couple,” Celeste admitted, “but before I could copy the letters inside, Ms. Olsen grabbed them out of my hand. I didn’t even know she’d been watching me.”

“So, Sheila knew what her brother was up to.”

“She reacted pretty strongly when she saw those,” Celeste replied.

“Is that it?” Maddy asked.

“There’s one more thing. I found a bundle of empty envelopes, all with a P.O. box listed as the address. I brought one with me, in case it’s important.”

She handed me the envelope, and I saw it was the same box 10. So, it had been Richard’s after all. That didn’t make sense, though. I’d found plenty of envelopes in his files with his street address on them. Why have a post office box if you’re already getting mail at home? I knew someone who would know, but there was no way Nancy Taylor, the postmistress, would tell me.

I hadn’t found a key to the post office box among Richard’s things, and I had to wonder if there was something in the box now, waiting for him to retrieve it. Should I ask Sheila if she had it? No, first I’d go to the post office in the morning and see if anything was inside it. The post office boxes had small see-through windows, making it easy enough to check.

“That’s a lot of information. You did great,” I said as her pizza came out of the other side of the conveyor. “Would you like this for here, or to go?”

“I’d like it in a box, if you don’t mind,” she said.

I cut it, then slid the pizza into one of our boxes. “Thanks, Celeste. Are you all finished cleaning the house?”

“It took a crew of eight, but we did it. There’s not a trace of that man left there. I understand it’s going on the market by the end of the week.”

“How can that be?” I asked, the news surprising me.

“Didn’t I tell you? We found the will, nearly straight away after you two left. The sister gets everything. No one else was even mentioned in the will. She didn’t need it, though. It turns out her name was already on the deed, and she didn’t even know it. Funny, the man left her all of his accounts, including the house, but she claims she never knew it.”

“You’re right; that is funny,” I said.

After Celeste left, Maddy asked, “What are you thinking?”

“I can’t stop playing with the idea that Sheila knew all along she was going to inherit,” I said.

“I honestly didn’t get that impression, but if you’re right, what do we do about it?”

I thought about it, then said, “The only thing we can do is give her more rope, and see if she can fashion herself a noose.”

“Don’t forget, we have a handful of other suspects, too,” Maddy said. “Faith Baron gets my vote at the moment. I can’t believe her nerve.”

“What about her husband? His temper’s known pretty well all around town, and mayor or not, I’m sorry to say that I can see him stabbing the man who’d been cheating with his wife.”

“Then again, there’s still whoever Richard was blackmailing.”

I nodded. “And we can’t forget Travis or Richard’s boss.”

Maddy scratched her head. “I’m beginning to think we’d be better off figuring out who didn’t have a motive to see the man dead.”

We were still discussing the possibilities when Greg poked his head in through the kitchen door. “How about a hand out here, Maddy?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stay in the kitchen so long.”

My sister grabbed her order pad as I asked, “Do you want me to take another shift out front? I don’t mind, really.”

She shook her head. “Thanks anyway, but if I do that, how am I going to earn any tips?”

“You actually get tips?” I asked.

“Don’t worry; you’ll get them too, someday. You’re just out of practice waiting on customers. It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea if we kept trading off, though. What if you’re out sick? If I’m lousy at making pizzas, I’ll drive off your customers. Greg can handle the front, and I can take the back. That way you can take your time and get better.”

I didn’t care to be so easily replaced, even in a hypothetical situation. “What if you’re the one who’s out?”

“How would you be able to tell?” she said with a smile. “I’m just here for decoration most days, anyway.”

“I never said that, and if I even thought it, I was wrong. You work hard, too; I know that.”

“So we’re both wonderful. I’ll go help Greg, and you keep the food coming.”

I worked in silence, creating the orders as they were placed, but I was still left with enough downtime to ponder all we’d learned. Apparently Richard Olsen had been a busy man. Besides the pass he’d made at me, he’d been sleeping with—and breaking up with—the mayor’s wife, been embroiled in a property line dispute with his hot-tempered neighbor, and possibly been stealing clients’ secrets for blackmail and stealing cash from his boss. That didn’t even touch the relationship he might have had with his ex-wife, who was still noticeably absent from town.

How did he find time to do anything else?

During the next lull, the kitchen door opened and Bob Pickering came through. “Maddy sent me back. Hope it’s okay.”

“That depends,” I said as I wiped my hands on a towel. “Did you finish my car?”

“Come on, Eleanor, that’s a big job, and you know it.”

“So it’s not ready?” I’d really been counting on getting my transportation back.

“I didn’t say that,” he said with a smile as he jangled my keys in front of me. “I just finished it up, even if I had to skip lunch to do it.”

“Then I’ll make up for it with your pizza,” I said as I got more dough out of the refrigerator. It appeared that I was giving away entirely too many pizzas in the last few hours, but at least I was getting value for them. It was amazing how free food could entice people to do what I wanted. It didn’t hurt that just about everybody loves pizza.

“What would you like on it?” I asked as I finished knuckling the dough around the pan and forming a ridge around it.

“You got it, I’ll take it,” he said.

“Are you sure? I’m not sure how everything we carry would do in one pie.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. After a moment’s thought, he said, “I’ll take one with cheese, then.”

“Come on, I can do better than that,” I said.

“No, cheese is what I want,” Bob said.

I shrugged, then added as much cheese as I could fit on the pizza without having it spill out in the oven. If he wanted cheese, that was exactly what he was going to get.

Bob nodded his approval as he saw what I’d created for him, then leaned against the counter and watched as the pizza slowly disappeared into the oven. “That’s a nice-looking rig you’ve got there. I could speed it up for you if you’d like.”

I knew Bob was handy in a great many more areas than fixing cars, but just because he could do it didn’t mean he should. “If you do that, the pizzas won’t finish baking when they make it through the oven.”

“I could crank that up for you, too. You could have pizzas in half the time.”

“Thanks, Bob, but why don’t we just leave things the way they are now. It won’t be long. Can I get you something to drink while you’re waiting?”

“Sure, that would be great.”

I grabbed a cup from the cupboard, then asked, “What would you like?”

“A Coke would be great,” he said as he reached for his wallet.

“It’s on the house,” I said.

“Eleanor, how do you expect to make a profit if you give your stuff away?”

“We could always barter,” I said with a grin.

“No, thanks, I doubt I could eat that much pizza.”

I went to the front and filled the cup with soda, put a lid on it, then carried it back into the kitchen. The pizza was done, but it looked too cheesy even for me. “Sorry, I think I overdid it,” I said. “Do you have time to wait while I make you another one?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked as he looked over my shoulder. “That’s perfect.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” I said as I cut it and slid it into a box.

He took the pizza, grabbed his drink, and I followed him out front and held the door open for him. “Thanks for getting to my window so fast, Bob,” I said.

“You’re welcome. I’ll put the bill in the mail tomorrow.”

“I’m counting on it,” I said. I would gladly pay to have the use of my own car back. It was amazing how helpless I felt without my transportation. Now I wouldn’t have to depend on Maddy to ferry me around town. While I was sure she didn’t mind, I did. Since my widowhood, I’d become fiercely independent, almost too proud or stubborn to take help from anyone else.

Maybe David was right. There were walls I didn’t need standing in my way, but I was afraid that by the time I made any progress in tearing them down, it would be too late.

It was twenty minutes till ten, and I had started cleaning up in back earlier so we could get out at a decent time. I had as many of the dishes finished as I could, so I decided to see what a mess the answering machine was. Since the murder, I hadn’t kept up with checking the messages, so I knew I was going to have a bunch of them.

The number fifty flashed on my machine, which was the limit of messages it could hold. Who would have ever believed it would get that high? Grabbing a pen and some paper, I sat down at my cramped desk and hit
REPLAY.

There were the expected comments of support, a few frustrated attempts to order pizza, and a couple of comments that were too rude to keep. Oddly enough, the last twenty calls were all hang-ups. How could that be? Wouldn’t people get the message after a while and stop calling?

I had just hit the erase button when the phone rang. Though I had turned the ringer off the day before, I could still see the light flashing. Without even realizing I was doing it, I answered the phone, “A Slice of Delight.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, and then a low voice said, “I need a pizza delivered.”

“I’m sorry, but we’re getting ready to close, and our delivery service will be unavailable for the foreseeable future.”

After another pause, the voice said, “I’ll give you one hundred dollars for a pizza tonight.”

“I’m sorry, but no.” We got our share of nuts, but this one was quickly climbing to the top of the charts.

“Two hundred,” the voice rasped out.

I suddenly realized that there was something going on here more than a pizza. I decided to play along. “Okay, I could probably make an exception for two hundred dollars. Who’s calling, please?”

Another pause, then the voice said, “Shook.”

That was an easy alias to come up with, since you couldn’t swing a big stick in our part of the world without hitting someone named Shook.

“And where would you like this delivered?” I asked.

No hesitation this time. “Eighty-two West End Avenue.”

BOOK: A Slice of Murder
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