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Authors: Chris Cavender

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BOOK: A Slice of Murder
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“Maybe by then we’ll know who we’re going to tackle first,” Maddy said.

 

Maddy followed me upstairs, and as I finished my hair and put on my make-up, she sat on the edge of my bed.

My sister looked at me, and after a few seconds, she said, “I think we should tackle the Barons first.”

I put down my eyelash curler, something Joe had said looked like a medieval torture device, and stared at her. “Both of them? Don’t you think that might get a little dicey? What if Steve doesn’t know his wife was having an affair? You know the man’s temper. It might not be the best thing giving him a reason to explode.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I’ve got another idea. You talk to Steve, and I’ll handle Faith.”

“No,” I said with enough force to get her attention.

“Okay, settle down. There’s no need to get your shorts in a knot. You can have Faith, and I’ll take Steve.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “We’re not splitting up, do you understand? This is serious business. If we’re right, we’re going to be talking to a killer in the next few days, and I don’t think it’s something we should be doing by ourselves.”

“Do you honestly think it will make much difference if there are two of us? It’s not like we walk around town armed or anything.”

I reached into my purse and pulled out my pepper spray. “I’ve got this.”

Maddy laughed as she reached into her own bag and pulled out a sleek black handheld device. “I’m not unarmed, either.”

“What’s that?”

She said, “It’s a stun gun. I got it at Molly Madison’s party.”

“As a favor?” I asked as I studied it in her hand.

“It wasn’t that kind of party. It’s like Tupperware or lingerie. Home-safety parties are popping up all over the place. I’m surprised you weren’t invited.”

“I probably was,” I admitted. “I tend to throw away any mail I get from Molly. That woman could sell Christmas trees to Santa.”

“Well, I thought it might be a good investment. Here, take a look at it.”

I shied away from the offered device. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on, don’t be such a baby. The safety’s on.” She stared at it a second, then said, “At least I think it is. Blast it, I need to get that manual out again.”

“What’s to keep you from stunning yourself every time you reach into your purse to get your car keys?”

“I haven’t done it yet,” Maddy said with a distinct air of superiority.

“I’m guessing it will just take one time,” I said. “Would you put that thing away? You’re making me nervous.”

She studied it a second, flipped a small switch, then said, “I was right the first time. The safety’s on now.”

I felt immeasurably better once she put it back in her purse. I glanced in the mirror, saw that I was probably looking as good as I was going to get, and said, “Let’s go tackle Faith.”

“What do we do, walk up to her front door and ring the bell? How do we know her husband won’t answer the door instead? Who knows, she might even still be asleep.”

I glanced at my watch. “I doubt that. The woman runs by my house every morning about when I get my Charlotte paper. We wait for her outside, and I’m willing to bet she’ll come to us.”

“It beats chasing her all over town,” Maddy agreed. “But I’m not exactly outfitted for a jog.”

“We don’t have to. I’m planning to do something to get her attention.”

“What are you going to say?” Maddy asked.

“Not a word. I’m just going to hold this up.” I picked up the lavender envelope Maddy had found in Richard’s pocket and waved it in the air. I could still smell Obsession on it, or perhaps it was just my imagination.

“That should do the trick,” my sister agreed. “When she stops, are we going to accuse her of killing Richard, or do you have some other plan?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I admitted. “A lot of what I say will depend on her reaction.”

“In other words, we’re playing it by ear.”

I grinned. “That’s what I do best.”

“Then we’d better go down and stake out our places,” she said.

Once we were outside, I began regretting wearing just a light jacket. It was somewhere around twenty degrees, and the sun was just starting to crest the hill in front of us. Maddy was wearing a toasty, thick coat and had donned gloves and a hat.

“I’m going back in and changing,” I said.

“You can’t,” Maddy answered.

“Why not?”

“Because here comes Faith.”

I rubbed my hands together, then got the letter out and prepared to wave it. Faith was on time, as usual. She had to be freezing, wearing a sleek black nylon running suit and a simple ear warmer. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and it bobbed as she ran. I had to admit, she certainly looked fit in the outfit, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever really noticed what a good physique she had, since it was normally hidden under layers of clothing.

“Hi, ladies,” she said as she approached.

I put the envelope up in the air as I said, “Look what we found.”

I swear, she nearly tripped when she saw the letter.

As Faith pulled up short, she asked, “Where did you get that?”

“From Richard Olsen,” I said. Well, Maddy had plucked it out of his jacket, but Faith didn’t have to know that.

She stood in front of us, and I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself, but she actually tried to grab it out of my hands. I was so surprised, she might have made it if Maddy hadn’t stepped in between us at the last second and blocked her.

“Behave, Faith. You wouldn’t want us to show this to anyone else, would you?” I said.

She looked like a balloon suddenly deflating as she nearly crumpled onto the sidewalk. “I don’t know what to do,” she said as she started to cry.

It was Maddy’s turn to look shocked, as I put an arm around Faith’s shoulder and said, “Come on inside. I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

“That would be nice,” Faith said.

As I led her back to the house, Maddy kept looking at me as if I’d suddenly sprouted horns, but I chose to ignore her.

Once I had Faith situated in the parlor, I told Maddy quietly, “Would you go make some tea? I might be able to get something out of her if I stay by her side. Unless you’d like to try it yourself.”

“No thanks. I’ll make the tea,” she said.

I came back in and sat beside Faith. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to blindside you like that.” Though I honestly had meant to do exactly that, I wasn’t about to admit that to her.

“I knew it would come out. I’ve been waiting for the police chief to knock on our front door ever since I heard about what happened to Richard.” She stared at me for a second through reddened eyes. “I was so mad at you at first. I thought you did it, Eleanor.”

“What changed your mind?”

“No offense, but I just don’t think you have it in you.”

“Why would I be offended by that?” I asked. “I appreciate the compliment.”

“But you know what it’s like to be accused of murder, don’t you? You’re going to give that letter to me, aren’t you? It’s the only right thing to do.”

“You know I can’t do that,” I said. “It’s evidence.”

“Of what? That the jerk dumped me? I wrote some things I shouldn’t have. You would have done the same thing yourself, and you know it. When I said I’d see him dead before he broke another woman’s heart, I didn’t actually mean it.”

What was Faith talking about? There had to be another letter, one that we hadn’t found on our impromptu search. I wasn’t about to admit that to her, though. But that meant I had to warn Maddy.

“I’ll be right back,” I said as I started to stand.

She shot out a hand and grabbed my arm with more strength than I’d ever imagined she possessed. “Give me that letter, Eleanor.”

I pulled my arm away, not without a significant effort on my part, and stood. “I said no.”

“Then we’re finished here,” she said, just as Maddy came out with a pot of tea, three cups and saucers, and all the extras.

Faith nearly knocked the tray out of Maddy’s hands as she left.

My sister looked harshly at me. “What did you say to her?”

“It’s not so much what I told her, but what she divulged to me.”

Maddy locked the door, put the tray down on the coffee table, then poured two cups. “So, don’t hold back on me. I want to hear all of the details.”

“It appears that Faith saw that letter and jumped to the wrong conclusion. Evidently she wrote another note to Richard, one not as cordial as the one you found.”

“What did she say? Did she break up with him?”

“No, but you’re not far off,” I said as I took a sip of tea. “Apparently Richard broke up with her, and Faith wasn’t very happy about it. She told me she wrote that she’d see him dead before he broke another woman’s heart. You know what? I believe her. I’m starting to see a side of Faith I never knew existed.” Then I added, “Both Barons are suspects.”

“Should we go talk to our dear mayor and see if he denies knowing what was going on between his wife and the murder victim?”

“No, let’s give Faith a little more time to stew. I’ve got a feeling she’s not going to give up that easily.” I picked up the envelope, then added, “In the meantime, what do we do with this?”

“I’ve got an idea,” Maddy said as she plucked the letter out of my hand. There was a painting in the living room of a huge orchid by a Florida woman named Ruby Hall, which I’d taken a fancy to, and Maddy pulled it off the wall and slipped the letter into the back of the frame. “She’ll never look for it there.”

“Do you honestly think she’d break into my house to retrieve it?”

Maddy stared at me. “Wouldn’t you? It sounds like it’s pretty incriminating.”

“If we actually had it,” I said.

“She doesn’t know that, though, does she?”

I grabbed my jacket. “Maybe we should go talk to Sheila. If there are more letters, Faith’s going to start looking for them, and Sheila might get hurt in the process.”

“Do you think it’s that serious?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, but do you really want to take that chance with someone else’s life? She deserves to know.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Maddy said. “Who knows, maybe we can talk her into letting us help out again.”

“I doubt it.”

“At the very least,” Maddy said as we walked out onto the covered porch and I locked the front door, “I can try to get that twenty she offered.”

“Don’t you dare,” I said.

Maddy laughed. “Why would I do that? Then I wouldn’t be able to hold it over your head anymore.”

“There’s always that,” I said.

As we got into Maddy’s car, I missed my Subaru. If I knew Bob, it would already be at his garage, waiting for a new window. If only repairing my reputation was as easy. It was going to take a lot of hard work and a little luck to get the stigma of the murder off me, but I was willing to do whatever it took, including turning the mayor’s wife over to the police, if I ever got enough hard evidence that Kevin Hurley would believe.

Chapter 7

“C
an we come in?” I asked Sheila as she answered the door to her brother’s house.

“I’ve got a crew working here already,” she said. “They’re bonded, you know.”

“Congratulations,” Maddy said, obviously implying she’d dodged a bullet throwing out a couple of petty thieves like us. We’d seen three pristine white vans parked in front upon arriving, all sporting the Clean Team logo on their sides. Inside—at least from what we could see around Sheila—was a team of people outfitted in white jumpsuits methodically wiping out the last trace of Richard Olsen from his former home.

“Thank you,” Sheila said, apparently missing the jab entirely. “I understand they’re very good.”

“And why wouldn’t they be?” I asked. “Has a will turned up yet?”

Sheila frowned. “Not yet, but if it doesn’t, I’ve been told that as Richard’s closest living relative, I’ll inherit everything he has—
had.

Was there a hint of avarice in her eyes as she said that?

“Oh,” I said, “so you’ve already spoken with an attorney.”

“It seemed the prudent thing to do, given the circumstances,” she said.

“It’s not Bob Lemon, is it?” Maddy asked.

“No, the woman’s name is Armitage. She’s from Charlotte, and from what I’ve heard, she’s very good at this sort of thing.”

I was about to say something when Maddy piped up, “Who exactly have you been talking to?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Maddy said, measuring her words out carefully, “you heard the cleaning crew you’re using is good, and then you heard this Armitage woman is the one to call. I’m just wondering who’s doing all the talking.”

“A kind woman came by the house just after you two left,” Sheila said. “She had a great deal of good advice for me, and from what I understand, her standing in the community is beyond reproach.”

I had a sinking feeling that I knew exactly who she was talking about. “Faith Baron dropped in on you, didn’t she?”

Sheila’s eyes widened. “How on earth did you know that?”

“I don’t know anything; I’m just guessing,” I said.

Sheila took that in for a second, then shrugged as she replied, “I’d love to stand around and chat, but I’m so busy, I’m afraid I don’t have the time. If you’ll both excuse me, I’ve got a crew to oversee.”

She didn’t quite slam the door in our faces, but it was the next best thing.

As we walked back to Maddy’s car, my sister said, “It didn’t take Faith long to figure out that we know something. I wonder if she’s got the cleaning crew and this attorney in her pocket.”

“She wouldn’t need the attorney, but I’m definitely skeptical about who the cleaners are really working for.”

“What can we do about it?” Maddy asked.

“For now? Nothing. Faith’s already outmaneuvered us.”

Maddy looked back toward the house, then smiled. “Don’t be so sure of that. Come on,” she said as she started back toward the house.

“Where are we going? She’s pretty much told us she’s done talking to us.”

“This time we’re going to the back door.”

“Have you completely lost your mind?”

“How could anyone tell,” she said with a smile.

Maddy peeked inside one of the side windows, then tapped on the glass. A middle-aged woman with her hair tied up in a bandana noticed her, started to smile, then looked puzzled as my sister motioned her toward the back of the house.

“Do you mind telling me what’s going on?” I asked as we walked back to meet her.

“It’s just a thought I had,” she said.

The woman came out to the back steps and said, “Maddy Spencer, you’re going to get me fired. What do you want?”

“Hi, Celeste. It’s good to see you, too.”

She smiled slightly. “I’m supposed to be working here.”

“That’s what I want to talk to you about. What are you all doing with everything you find?”

Celeste looked behind her, then said, “We’re searching for a will, or any paper that looks like it might be a legal document.”

Maddy nodded. “And what about the personal stuff?”

Celeste frowned. “We’re tossing it all. The clothes go to Goodwill, anything of value goes into the yard sale pile, and everything else gets bagged and dumped. By tonight, you won’t know the poor man even lived here.” It was pretty clear what Celeste thought of the speedy exorcism of Richard Olsen’s presence.

“Then you won’t be breaking any rules if you keep your eyes open for lavender envelopes, or anything else we might be able to use. We’ll even feed you.”

Celeste bit her lip, then looked hard at me. “That depends. Did you kill this man?”

It was a blunt question I hadn’t expected. “No, ma’am, I did not.”

Celeste pondered that a moment, then said, “Good enough.”

“You believe me?” I asked, just a little incredulous.

“I can tell when people lie to me,” she said with a shrug. “It’s a knack I’ve had ever since I was a child.”

“Then how can you stand being friends with my sister?” I asked.

“Hey, I’m right here,” Maddy said.

Celeste laughed. “Your sister doesn’t lie. She just likes to shade the truth to make her stories a little more interesting.”

“What’s the difference?” I asked, mainly in jest.

She didn’t take it that way. “There’s fibs, and then there’s deceit—two entirely different things, in my mind.”

“Celeste,” a voice called out from inside. “Where’d you go?”

“Right here,” she called out. Then she said to us, “You two scoot. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“We’ll be at A Slice of Delight,” Maddy said.

I saw Sheila coming back toward the kitchen, and I practically had to pull Maddy off the back porch and into the bushes before she came out and caught us. I didn’t want Celeste to get fired because of us, and more importantly, I wasn’t all that keen about having Sheila discover that we were trying to recruit one of her new employees to our side.

After Sheila was gone, Maddy said, “Come on. Let’s go.”

“I never wanted to come back here in the first place.”

“Eleanor, you’ve got to admit that it could help, having someone on the inside looking out for us.”

“I’m not denying it,” I said. As we neared her car, I asked, “How did you meet Celeste, and why didn’t I hear about it?”

“You don’t know everything about me,” Maddy said.

“No? Gosh, and here I thought I did.”

She shook her head, and I could see her suppressing a smile. “Celeste and I became friends a few years ago. We took a class together at the community center, and we still do things every now and then.”

“What kind of class?”

Maddy started the car, then turned the radio up to a deafening level. “I’m sorry,” she shouted over the music, “I didn’t hear the question!”

I reached over and turned the radio down to a more acceptable level, then repeated my question. “What was the class?”

“It was traffic school, okay?”

With my sister’s lead foot, it didn’t surprise me that she’d gotten a speeding ticket. But how had she kept the class from me? It had probably been a real effort, no matter how much it had been worth to keep me from teasing her about it.

Maddy frowned at me, then asked, “Any comments you’d care to make?”

“Not me,” I said.

“Good,” she replied as she took off toward the Slice. I saw her glance at the dashboard clock as she added, “Are you ready to make some pizza?”

“We still need to talk to Penny.”

“She’s not open for hours,” Maddy said. “In the meantime, we’d better try to make some money.”

“If we get any customers today, I’m ready to feed them,” I said.

“Oh, they’ll come, you can count on that.”

“Why do you say that?”

Maddy grinned. “Because nobody in town has pizza anywhere near as good as yours. The national chains are consistent to the point of being bland. With you, no two pizzas are ever the same.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“It was a compliment, Eleanor.”

“That’s how I’m going to take it.”

 

Thankfully, no one had attacked my pizza parlor in the middle of the night, which was something I’d been dreading most of the night. Somehow the assault on the Subaru was less invasive than doing something to A Slice of Delight. Maybe it was because so much of Joe was in the pizzeria.

As we walked in, I started flipping lights on, as was my custom each morning when we arrived. It let any passersby know that we were going to indeed be serving today, something that until the day before had never really been in doubt. It felt good to be back there, among all things cozy and familiar.

Maddy and I had a routine, and we went to work. The pizza dough was my area of expertise, and though my sister had been thoughtful enough to make it the day before, I’d tried a slice last night and it hadn’t been up to my standards. I gathered the yeast, water, salt, and bread flour together, then added a few of the things that set my dough apart from the rest. I had a shaker filled with my own blend of herbs, and I also used a touch of olive oil in my dough mix. As the yeast soaked in warm water, I set about measuring the other ingredients, almost working on autopilot, I’d done it so many times before. I knew pizzerias that used frozen or even partially baked crusts, but I liked the feel of dough in my hands and was happy to give my customers something a touch different. The same thing went for my pizza sauce, which was another specialty of mine. I made it myself, with tomatoes, onions, garlic, and a few spices I thought gave it a distinctive taste.

While I worked on the basics, Maddy prepared our toppings and got ready for our sandwich orders. I refused to make the buns myself, but I couldn’t see using store-bought either, so I had a deal with Paul, our baking neighbor, to supply the buns for the shop every day. He gave me a great price, and I took him some pizza every now and then. It was an arrangement that suited both of us.

After the yeast was ready, I began mixing the dough in the floor mixer until it was all thoroughly integrated. I kneaded the dough by hand, put it into a bowl, added a light layer of olive oil, then covered it and put it in under a proofing lamp. After I set the timer for sixty minutes to give the yeast a chance to work, I turned to Maddy.

“Do you need any help with your toppings?”

She ignored me. Then I noticed that her iPod earbuds were in.

“Maddy,” I asked again, this time more forcefully.

She looked up at me. “Did you say something?”

I mouthed words but didn’t utter a sound.

“I can’t hear you,” she said as she jerked the earpieces out. I could hear the music playing through the earpieces, though the sound was thankfully muted.

“That’s because I wasn’t saying it out loud. You’re going to go deaf listening to that thing cranked up so high, you know that, don’t you?”

“Sorry, ‘Mom,’ I’ll try to do better. What did you want?”

“Do you need any help?”

She waved a knife in the air. “No, I’ve got it.”

“I’m going to make up another batch of dough and freeze it. Then I’m going to go get our buns from Paul.”

“Tell him I said hi,” she said as she put the knife down long enough to re-place the earbuds.

I finished the backup batch of dough, locked up behind me, then walked down the brick promenade to Paul’s Pastries. It felt good being out in the brisk morning. My arms could feel the effort I’d put into the dough, and I cherished the first break of my day.

At the bakery, I glanced in through the large windows under the dark green awning that jutted off the ancient brick facade. His shop’s name was written in white letters on the awning front in a very friendly, welcoming font. Behind a huge array of display cases filled with the most delectable goodies, Paul was working at replenishing the shelves. Tall and thin, he was in his mid-twenties and sported a goatee as black as his hair. Paul had gone to law school after graduating college in two years, and after he passed the North Carolina state bar exam, he’d shelved his diploma and opened up his shop. He’d gotten his law degree for his father, but now he was doing something for himself. I couldn’t say whether his education made him a better baker or not, but it was good having him around. The world had enough lawyers, in my opinion, and not enough bakers.

“Good morning,” Paul greeted me as I walked in. “I was hoping I’d see you today.”

“Sorry about yesterday. I’ll pay for the bread I didn’t get.”

“Don’t be silly, Eleanor. I’m just glad you’re opening again.” He lowered his voice, though no one was in the bakery but the two of us. “If I can do anything—and I mean anything—to help you, I will. I’ll even give you legal advice. All you have to do is ask.”

I knew what a concession that was for him to make. “I appreciate it, Paul, but I’ve hired Bob Lemon to help.”

“He’s a good man,” Paul said. With a twinkle in his eyes, he added, “No doubt Maddy had something to do with that.”

“You can tell he’s sweet on her, too?”

Paul laughed. “Everyone in Timber Ridge can tell. Hang on a second; I’ve got your buns in back.”

Paul ducked through the swinging door and reappeared with a tray full of his wonderful hoagie rolls. “Here you go.”

“Thanks. Would you like us to bring you some lunch today?”

“That would be great,” Paul said. “After baking half the night, it’s nice to have someone make me a meal.”

His schedule was nearly opposite ours, since Paul started his day at one
A.M.
and finished up by two in the afternoon. It was a timetable that would have killed me. Then again, I was a good ten years older than he was.

“It must be tough finding someone to date with your hours,” I said.

“Why, Eleanor, I didn’t realize you felt that way about me.”

That flustered me. “Paul, I didn’t…I wasn’t…I didn’t mean me.”

His laughter put me at ease. “Relax, I was just teasing you.”

“I deserved it,” I said. “It’s none of my business.”

“You should hear my mother. She doesn’t care that I’m not practicing law, but she’s absolutely determined that she have grandchildren while she’s still young enough to enjoy them.”

“Mothers can be that way, can’t they?” I took the tray from him, butted the door open with my back, and waved to Paul by smiling and nodding my head as I walked back to the Slice.

BOOK: A Slice of Murder
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