Read A Slice of Murder Online

Authors: Chris Cavender

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

A Slice of Murder (7 page)

BOOK: A Slice of Murder
10.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“That’s so honest of you,” Sheila said. “You could have kept it and I never would have known.”

“My integrity’s worth a lot more than that to me,” I said. “It’s not my money. It belongs to you now.”

“Maybe,” Sheila said. “If they ever get the safety-deposit box open, we might find out. You’d think they’d have more than one key for the thing, wouldn’t you?”

“What can I say? Small towns have small-town ways sometimes. Consider it some of our local flavor.”

“It’s certainly not how we do things in Charlotte,” she said. “Thanks for your honesty, Eleanor.”

“It’s my pleasure,” I said.

“Hang on a second,” Sheila said. “The teller’s saying something.”

I didn’t have a chance to warn her about the large balance there might be in the checking account. I couldn’t hear what the teller said, but I did hear a scream as Maddy’s phone suddenly went dead.

Two minutes later my cell phone was ringing. I didn’t recognize the number in the display, but I had a pretty good idea who was on the other end of the line.

“What happened, Maddy?”

“What, are you psychic now?”

“No, but who else would be calling me. Is Sheila all right?”

Maddy’s voice lowered as she explained, “She’s fine. I caught her in time, so she didn’t crack her head open on the marble floor. I can’t say the same for my cell phone. It’s in so many pieces, I doubt we’ll ever find them all.”

“She fainted when she heard about the money, right?” I asked.

“Your thousand bucks? Not even close.”

“Maddy, I’m talking about the bank balance. Did you hear how much it was?”

“No, the teller wrote it down on a piece of paper, but Sheila told me as soon as she came to again. It’s close to a hundred grand, and Sheila’s not going to have to pay a penny of taxes on it.”

“What do you mean?”

“She and her brother co-owned the account, so legally, it’s not part of the estate. She gets it all without going through the hassle of a will.”

“You know, I usually don’t understand fainting spells, but I’ve got to give her that one. I’d probably pass out myself with that kind of news.”

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving you all my money, too. It’s in a shoe box under my bed, in case something happens to me.”

“Wouldn’t it be safer in a bank?” I asked, touched that my sister had thought of me.

“No, I tried to open an account with it, but they said I needed more than nine dollars, so I’ll have to wait till next payday.”

“You’re a riot,” I said.

“Hang on a second. I’m going to have to call you back. The assistant manager just came back from lunch, so we should be able to get into the box now. I’ll call you back later.”

She hung up before I could say a word. If Richard Olsen had close to a hundred grand in his checking account, how much must be in his safety-deposit box? I tried to imagine how it must feel to have that much money, but I had a hard time wrapping my mind around it. As I waited to hear back from Maddy, I tried to keep working, but in all honesty, I was more than a little distracted by the news, even though I’d seen some of the deposit slips myself. As I looked around the house, I had to wonder, if he had that much money, why didn’t he live any better than he did? Sure, I knew Richard liked flashy clothes and had driven a nice new car, but the man had nothing to reflect the amount of money he had.

Why would he do that? Was he modest, or was it that he couldn’t afford to let people know how much he had? And if he was hiding it, that begged the question, why? He was in sales for an industrial shredding service in Raleigh, based in Timber Ridge. I couldn’t imagine him making anywhere near that kind of money, even given people’s heightened levels of paranoia these days.

My cell phone rang again, and I saw that it was the same number Maddy had called me from earlier.

“What was it full of? Hundred-dollar bills?” I asked.

“No, there were two rolls of pennies there, and one roll of nickels.”

“You’re kidding,” I said as I slumped down on the couch. “Are they supervaluable or something?”

“Not that we could tell. One of the tellers is a coin buff, so she offered to look at the rolls. The most valuable coins were a few wheat pennies, but he barely had enough value to cover the cost of the box for a month.”

“And that’s it? There was nothing else?”

“Just some scribbles on an old, torn envelope,” Maddy said. “That’s all there was inside.”

“Could that be of value?” I was trying to come up with some reason Richard had so carefully guarded the safety-deposit box, given that its contents were so meager.

“I doubt it, but we’ll bring it with us along with the coins. We’re just getting ready to leave. I’ve got to say, Sheila wasn’t all that upset about finding the coins. I think she’s still in shock over the hundred grand. I know I would be.”

“Forget it, I’m not worth anything near that amount, especially in cash.”

“Yeah, but I have hope for you,” she said.

“Hang on a second,” I said. “I just had a thought. See when Richard was in his safety-deposit box last. It should be listed on the signature card.”

My sister was many things, but stupid was nowhere near the list, though headstrong was somewhere near the top. “That makes sense. You want to see if he cleaned it out recently. I’ll go check.”

And then she hung up on me again. We were going to have to replace her cell phone, and quickly. It was driving me crazy that the number was being blocked and I wasn’t able to contact her whenever I wanted. What had the age of technology done to me, making me so dependent on instant access to nearly everyone I knew?

Maddy called back, and without even saying hello, she said, “He came by three days ago, and one of the tellers said he was acting odd.”

“How so?”

“Normally he was a friendly, open guy—you know that as well as anybody. Well, when he came in the last time, she said he looked rattled by something. From the way she tells it, he barely made eye contact with her. Anyway, he had a briefcase with him that looked like it had gained some real weight by the time he left. I looked at the signature on the card, but it was hard to tell he’d written it, his hand had been shaking so badly.”

“But it was him and not someone else, right?” Could someone else have come in and cleaned out the contents, whatever they were?

“Oh, yes, she’s certain, because he usually hit on her when she let him into his box, but this time, nothing. What do you think it means?”

“I’m not sure yet, but it’s clearly another piece of the puzzle,” I said. “Are you two coming straight back here?”

“No, we’ve got one more stop to make. Sheila’s buying me a phone to replace the one she dropped.” Maddy lowered her voice, then added, “Come on, it’s not like she can’t afford it. The woman’s loaded now. She withdrew every dime in the account and opened a new one in only her name. The man’s been dead less than a day and she’s making sure nobody touches a cent of his money.”

“Don’t take advantage of her,” I said, but I was talking to dead air.

As I waited for them to return, I decided that there was time for a little more digging. Who knew what else I might find while I had the house all to myself.

 

I was about to give up hope of finding anything else by the time they got back when a balled-up piece of paper caught my eye in the trash can by the desk. When I flattened the sheet, I saw that it was clearly a handwritten note, but done in block letters. Who writes in block letters anymore after the third grade? The words written there weren’t done by a schoolkid, though. The note said, “PAY, OR RISK BEING EXPOSED,” only “exposed” was spelled “expoced.” That explained why Richard had started over, but why was he writing the note? It was pretty clear he was blackmailing someone, but whom? And where was the proof? Was that why he’d cleaned out his safety-deposit box? Or was the evidence still hidden somewhere in the house? If it was, I needed to redouble my efforts. It could quite possibly lead us to the real killer and get me off the hook. I folded the sheet into quarters, then stuffed it into my purse. I didn’t want to be the one to tell Sheila that her late brother had also been a blackmailer, at least until I had more proof than the note. I kept digging through the trash, and buried in the bottom was an envelope that had been torn up by hand. I nearly missed it at first, but then I saw a corner had “P.O. BOX 10” on it, with a Timber Ridge zip code. Was that significant? Could it be how Richard had contacted his victim, or was it his mail drop? Either way, it bore looking into, so I slid it into my purse as well, just as I heard the front door open.

Maddy called out, “We’re back.”

I buried the latest evidence deeper into my purse, then left the room to greet them.

As I walked out into the living room, Sheila held out her hand.

“Let me have it,” she demanded, and I wondered how she knew I’d found another clue.

Chapter 5

“I
’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” I said, trying to meet Sheila’s gaze with a steady look of my own. If she’d seen me tuck something into my purse, I was dead. But how had she managed it, without Maddy warning me sooner?

“The money you mentioned. Surely you haven’t forgotten it already,” Sheila said.

I nearly let out a sigh of relief as I said, “It’s on the desk. Let me get it for you.”

“That’s fine, you can stay right here. I’ll get it myself,” Sheila said as she brushed past me and moved into the office.

“What’s going on?” I whispered to Maddy the second Sheila was out of range. “What happened on the way home?”

“I don’t know,” Maddy admitted. “We bought a replacement telephone, and then she clammed up on me.”

“Did you spend too much of her money?”

“Give me some credit. We got the exact same phone I had, okay? They were even able to reprogram my old numbers into it. The outer casing was totally smashed, but they didn’t have any trouble salvaging the data inside.”

“So why her change of heart?”

Maddy didn’t have time to answer as Sheila came back out, counting the bills in her hand.

“It’s all there,” I said, maybe just a little too defensively.

“Just checking,” Sheila said as she stared at the money, then at me. “I appreciate your help, but I’ve decided this is too big a job for us to tackle. I’m hiring someone in the morning to do the work and boil the papers down to a manageable size.”

“We don’t mind helping,” Maddy said.

“Honestly, we’re glad to do it,” I added.

“Thanks, but I’ve made up my mind.” She grabbed two twenties from her wallet, then handed one to me and another to my sister. “That’s for your help.”

I wanted to tell her that if I’d been looking to make a little money, I could have just held on to the grand I’d found, but I doubted that would get me what I wanted, either. “You don’t need to pay us. We were glad to do it.”

“Okay, if that’s the way you feel,” Sheila said as she quickly withdrew the offer of even that paltry payment. “Now, if you two will excuse me, it’s been a long day.”

Actually, we hadn’t been working very long, but the hint was obvious.

Sheila walked us outside, and I saw those stacks of newspapers on the porch. “What are you going to do with those?” I asked.

“Throw them in the garbage,” she said.

“Let me at least recycle them for you,” I said.

“If you feel you must,” Sheila said. She stepped back inside, then clicked the dead bolt in place, clearly done with us.

Maddy grinned at me as she said, “Thanks, you just cost me twenty bucks.”

“I’ll pay you back when we leave,” I said. “In the meantime, grab a few bundles of newspapers and put them in the back of my car.”

“You and your green consciousness,” she grumbled as she did what I’d asked. When we had the porch cleared, the back of my Subaru was noticeably weighed down.

“Where to now?” I asked as we got in.

“I’d like to go home and take a quick nap, but I know that’s not happening. Sorry the safety-deposit box was a bust. I had high hopes for that trip. I should have let you go after all.” She paused, then said, “There’s something I need to show you, though.”

“Me first,” I said. “If you’d let me go to the bank, I wouldn’t have found this.” I pulled out the blackmail demand and handed it to her as I drove away from the curb.

She looked at the letter, then looked up. “Hey, my car’s back at the pizzeria, remember?”

“I know, but why don’t you come home with me while I shower? We can talk about what we found, then go back to the Slice and figure out what to do.”

“Fine,” she said as she put the note back in my purse. “I didn’t get dirty at all.” As I drove, she said, “So, it appears that Richard was digging himself into all kinds of trouble.”

“That’s what it looks like,” I admitted.

“Hang on a second. Do you think that’s what he was doing at the bank when he cleaned out his safety-deposit box? Was he getting ready to expose someone for not meeting his demands?”

“It might be,” I said. Then I remembered the return address. “I found something else in the trash can. Look for an address in my purse.”

She glanced inside my bag, then said, “You’re kidding, right? I’m not going to risk whatever might be lurking in there.”

“Don’t be such a sissy. Okay, I’ll tell you. There’s an address, P.O. Box 10 in Timber Ridge, and I’ve got a feeling it’s got something to do with this mess.”

“Fine, we’ll just ask the employee behind the post office counter to tell us who owns the box.”

I shook my head. “That’s a violation of federal law, Maddy. I doubt even you could bat your eyebrows enough to get that particular bit of information.”

“Then how do we find out?”

“I’ve got an idea,” I said. “Why don’t we send the box number a bright orange envelope, then watch the post office to see who picks it up?”

Maddy asked, “What are we supposed to do, stand in the lobby waiting to see who goes to the box? We don’t have that kind of manpower, Eleanor.”

“Do you have any ideas yourself?”

She shrugged, then said, “Let me think about it.”

By the time we got to my place, Maddy said, “I’ve got an idea, but it might be a little risky.”

“What did you have in mind?”

She looked at me, then said, “We could always send a note asking the holder to contact us.”

“Have you lost your mind? If we’re right, whoever has that box could very well be a killer. Do you want to invite them into our lives? That’s just nuts.”

“We wouldn’t be as open about it as that,” Maddy said. “Let me think about how we could do it without giving ourselves away while we’re at it.”

“You do that,” I said as I parked the car. “In the meantime, I’m going to unload these newspapers, then take a shower.”

“Would you like me to help? I’ll get dirty if you insist.”

I laughed. “They’re not that dirty. With both of us working, we’ll be done in no time at all.”

“And then what?”

“We keep digging,” I said. “I don’t know what choice we really have.”

 

Twenty minutes later I was clean from my shower and wearing fresh clothes, but I’d come no closer to figuring out who had killed Richard Olsen. Maddy was waiting impatiently for me in the living room.

“That took forever.”

I looked at my watch. “I’m ten minutes short of half an hour.”

She smiled softly, and I knew she’d been holding out on me. “What else did you find out when we were investigating?” I asked.

“Me? What makes you think I found something?”

“Come on, Maddy, I know that look. Now come clean.”

She nodded. “I found this in Richard’s suit jacket pocket when I was going through his clothes.”

I took the lavender envelope and immediately caught a whiff of perfume. I knew the fragrance but couldn’t place it.

Maddy said, “It’s Obsession. Remember when I went through that phase?”

“It’s pretty hard to forget,” I said. I opened the envelope and took out a sheet of matching lavender stationery. The handwriting was so florid it was hard to read at first, until I managed to decipher the wide loops and exaggerated swirls. It said,

My love,

I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again. Steve will be out of town next Monday, and I hope desperately that you’ll find your way into my bed.

With much anticipation,
Faith

Maddy was staring at me, and as I looked up at her again, she said, “The names are pretty unmistakable, aren’t they? That’s quite a bombshell.”

“It’s TNT,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“I just opened it ten minutes ago,” she said. “Honestly, I nearly forgot about finding it until then.”

I tapped the letter with one finger. “Why was Richard hitting on me when he was already seeing the mayor’s wife on the side? Faith is always so prim and proper, I never would have believed she had it in her to step out on Steve Baron.”

“The man owns a gun shop,” Maddy said. “How dumb was Richard, anyway?”

“He was stabbed, remember?”

Maddy said, “Steve’s not stupid. He probably knew if he shot Richard, he’d be arrested before morning.”

“I’m not sure that’s true,” I said. “People acting in the heat of the moment don’t always act rationally. I had no idea Richard and Faith were fooling around. Did you?”

“No,” Maddy admitted. “But that letter’s pretty hard to deny, isn’t it?”

“Truthfully, I’m not quite sure how to handle this,” I said as I slipped the letter back into its envelope. “We can’t exactly walk up to the mayor’s wife and ask her if she or her husband killed Richard Olsen, can we?”

“No, but we can’t let it go, either. Do you think this is what the blackmail was about?”

I bit my lower lip, then said, “Do you think Richard seduced her, and then when he got tired of her, he started blackmailing the woman? That’s dangerous business.”

“Look what happened to him,” Maddy said. “It fits.”

“So do half a dozen other explanations,” I said. “But that doesn’t make any of them right.”

“Then we keep digging,” Maddy said.

We got into my car and headed back to the pizzeria.

Maddy said, “What should we do now?”

“I thought we might make a pizza and spend some time figuring this out.”

“Sounds good,” Maddy said. “You know me—I’m always interested in food.”

I parked in back, more out of habit than anything else. There were probably a dozen spots in front of the pizzeria, but I could barely ever bring myself to park in one, even when we were open for business, just in case a customer needed one. I wondered if I’d ever have another customer, or if I’d served my last slice. I started to unlock the back door when I realized that I hadn’t removed the barricaded bar.

“We’ve got to go around to the front,” I said.

Maddy nodded, and as we walked through the shortcut, I saw that the parking area was jammed. At least someone was making money.

Then when we turned the corner, I realized that there was a cluster of people standing in front of the pizzeria.

“What’s going on?” I asked Maddy.

“I don’t have a clue,” she said, “but it appears that we’re going to have to put our investigation on hold.”

As I walked through the dozen folks standing in line, I said, “Sorry about that. We’re running late, but we’ll be open in a few minutes.”

There were some grumbles, but nobody left, which was a good thing.

As Maddy and I went inside to get ready to open the pizzeria, I wondered what had brought everyone there. Had they come for the food, or did they want to get a close-up look at a killer? Either way, I was going to do my best to feed them, and make a profit while I still could.

 

“Oh, no. We don’t have any pizza dough,” I said as I walked into the kitchen. I made fresh dough every morning, and we nearly always used it all by the end of the day. Once a week I discarded any dough I’d frozen during the week so I could start fresh again on Monday morning, but I knew for a fact that the freezer was empty at the moment.

Maddy grinned at me. “Remember, I made some this morning as soon as I got here. Check the fridge.”

“How did you have time to do it before I got here?” I asked as I opened the refrigerator door.

“I might have rushed it a little,” she said. “I used my recipe, not yours.”

Under normal circumstances I would not have been pleased. Maddy’s dough skipped a few steps, and I thought you could taste it in the finished product, though no one else seemed to be able to. But at the moment, I had two choices: use Maddy’s, or send everyone home.

I hugged her briefly, something she was clearly not expecting.

“What was that for?”

“For saving us tonight,” I said.

She was clearly uncomfortable with the show of affection.

“It was my turn,” she said. “I’ll get the ingredients, and you turn on the oven.”

We had a conveyor oven, though Joe and I had lusted after a wood-fired one when we’d first opened the pizzeria. The wood oven wasn’t as expensive, but neither my husband nor I had wanted to get into the firewood business. The conveyor oven would heat up in fifteen minutes—it was pretty much foolproof—and if we needed to, we could churn out a lot of pizzas in a hurry. The negatives were that it was expensive to repair, the fan was louder than I would have liked, and it had been a pretty substantial investment when we could ill afford it.

Still, normally it was a pretty good match to our business.

I preheated the oven, then started shaping crusts as Maddy worked on toppings. She’d prepared a nice mix earlier that morning, so we were in good shape.

“I’m going to go ahead and open up,” I said.

Maddy wiped her hands on a dishrag and took off her apron. “I’ll take care of it. You stay in the kitchen, and I’ll handle the front. We can do this, but you have to turn down deliveries tonight. I know you don’t want to, but we don’t have much choice.”

“To be honest with you, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to deliver another pizza in my life.” The memory of what had happened last night was still fresh in my mind, and I doubted it would ever go away.

“It’ll be all right,” Maddy said as she touched my shoulder lightly. “Now, let’s make some pizza and pay the rent.”

“Sounds great,” I said, and I meant it. Creating pizzas had pulled me out of tailspins before, and that was what I needed now. Thank goodness all of my customers hadn’t deserted me.

Maddy opened the doors, and I kept myself busy while I waited for the first order. I’d just gotten things ready when Josh Hurley—one of my few remaining employees—walked into the back.

“I’m ready to get to work,” Josh said as he grabbed an apron.

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Sorry. I can’t let you.”

“What do you mean? What did I do?” Then his face clouded up. “You talked to Dad, didn’t you?”

“He doesn’t want you working here, Josh.”

“He’s not in control of my life,” Josh snapped. I could see that he’d inherited his father’s temper, though he hadn’t yet learned to master it as well as his father had.

“Until you’re out on your own, he is,” I said. “I can’t afford to give him another reason to come after me.”

BOOK: A Slice of Murder
10.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Sky Song: Overture by Meg Merriet
Exposed by Susan Vaught
All or Nothing by Natalie Ann
Far Space by Jason Kent
The Seer by Jordan Reece
Apache Fire by Raine Cantrell
Grunt Traitor by Weston Ochse
Peeled by Joan Bauer
The Edge of Light by Joan Wolf
Wolf Point by Edward Falco