Tomato Basil Murder: Book 7 in The Darling Deli Series (9 page)

She was the last to arrive that morning, and rushed to order her coffee before going over to the other women. Beverly was already chatting with Denise, and seemed completely at home in the social situation.

“Sorry I’m late,” Moira said.

“Not a problem.” Martha gestured to the empty seat next to Denise. “Go ahead and sit down. We were just talking about the Redwood Grill. Beverly wants to eat there sometime before she heads back home. Are you free any evening this week?”

“Maybe Thursday,” she replied. Turning to Beverly, Moira added, “I’m glad you could come.”

“Me too. It’s wonderful to meet so many nice people. I’m going to have the best stories to tell when I get home.” Beverly beamed.

“Be sure to tell all of your friends to come to Maple Creek next time they take a vacation,” Denise said. In a quieter voice, she added, “The Grill could use the extra business.”

“I thought you guys were doing well,” Moira said, concerned. “You’re pretty busy whenever I stop by.”

“We’d be doing fine if we got this sort of business year round, but when winter hits… I just don’t see how we’re going to stay afloat. I guess I didn’t realize just how dead this town was once snow starts falling,” her friend said. “When the weather gets bad, I’m going to have to cut back on hours significantly, and maybe even let some of my employees go until spring. Last winter, we were new and benefited from curious diners, but I don’t think we can count on the same crowds this winter.”

“Wow, I didn’t know.” Moira was glad that the deli was relatively inexpensive to run, and that she and Candice could survive on the business she got from the locals during the winter. She wished there was something she could do to help her friend, but her mind was blank. The truth was, winter was hard on all of them.

“I’m so glad we never get snow where I live.” Beverly shivered delicately. “Winter in Michigan sounds just terrible.”

“Sometimes it’s not so bad,” Martha said. “Some years we hardly get any snow.”

“And some years we get bucketloads,” Moira added with a chuckle. “But it’s not always bad. There’s nothing more gorgeous than a snowy forest, and the kids love snowmobiling and sledding.”

“I think I’ll stick with my beaches,” the blonde woman said with a laugh.

“My ex-husband lived in California,” Moira said. “He always liked the warmer weather too.”

“Oh, really? What’s his name? I doubt I’ve heard of him—Cali is a big state—but you never know.” She set her coffee down and cocked her head, suddenly and almost eerily focused on Moira.

“Mike Thomson,” she reluctantly replied. “He passed away a little while ago.” Denise patted her hand sympathetically, and Martha gave her a supportive smile. Beverly coughed and set her coffee cup down.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “It went down the wrong pipe.”

“Did you know him?” Moira asked, curious.

“I don’t think so. Like I said, it’s a big state. You must miss him something terrible though.”

“Our relationship was… complicated,” she explained. “We’d hardly spoken for ten years, then I find out he named me as the beneficiary for his life insurance a couple of weeks before he died. I have no idea why he would do that—we were hardly friends, and he was already paying alimony for the divorce. I doubt he felt like he owed me money.”

“You’re sure about the life insurance?” Beverly asked, her eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t believe it at first, but the police showed me proof,” she explained.

“I bet that makes you look pretty suspicious in their eyes.”

“It does.” Moira grimaced. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Of course,” Martha said quickly, shooting her drama-obsessed houseguest a quelling look. “How’s Maverick doing? I haven’t seen him for a while.”

The conversation turned away from murder, and Moira began telling her friends about her hopes for the new house, and listened as they each shared their own anecdotes. She was glad to have a break from thinking about her ex-husband, and found herself reluctant to leave the table when it was time to go back to the rest of her life, which was quite messy at the moment.

She got to the deli just in time to say goodbye to Dante, who had worked the morning shift. Meg, who’d come in an hour ago and would leave shortly before close, gave him a quick kiss goodbye as he left. Moira smiled, glad to see that the couple was still doing well. Meg’s outgoing attitude was far different than Dante’s shy one, but somehow their differences didn’t clash, but complemented each other.

“My friend should be here in a few minutes,” Meg said once Dante had left. “I know I can’t guarantee her anything, but I do really think she’d be a great addition to the deli. She loves people, and is happy to work as much as you need her to.” Moira stared at her employee blankly for a moment.

“The interview,” she said when she remembered her hurried phone conversation with the young woman the other day. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot. I’m going to go get started on the soup; you just tell me when she gets here, all right?”

A few minutes later, Meg poked her head into the kitchen and beckoned to Moira.

“She’s here,” she said. “Do you want me to have her wait at one of the tables?”

“Sure. I’ll be out in a second.”

Once the soup was simmering and she had washed up, Moira walked out of the kitchen and glanced across the deli at her potential new employee. She was floored to see Allison Byrd, the young housekeeper who had shown her and David the room where Mike had been killed. Shocked, she glanced over at Meg to see if her employee had any idea about the connection between the two of them. The young woman just smiled and motioned with her head, oblivious to Moira’s shock.

Moira approached the bistro table warily, not quite sure what to make of this coincidence. When Allison and her eyes met, they had similar looks of shock.

“Um, hi,” she began. “Are you the boss?”

“I’m the owner,” Moira replied. “I take it you’re Meg’s friend?”

“Yeah. She just told me she’d see if she could get me a job where she worked. I didn’t realize you were in charge. Not that that’s a problem,” she added quickly, flashing Moira nervous smiled. “It’s just kind of unexpected.”

“I’ll say.” Moira sat down across the table from her and returned her smile in an effort to calm the young woman down. “It really is a small world, isn’t it?” Allison nodded.

“I guess I don’t have to introduce myself since you already know who I am,” she said. “But here’s my résumé. I do have experience in customer service, and I’ve got a few really good references.” She slid a folder over to Moira, who took it but didn’t open it.

“What about your job at the hotel? Would your hours there interfere with the hours you might be asked to work here?” she asked.

“I, uh… I got fired from the hotel,” Allison admitted, looking down and blushing. “Just a few hours after you and that private detective left, actually.”

“Oh.” Moira had a sneaking suspicion that the young woman sitting across from her had lost her job thanks to the help that she had offered them. “Was it because of what happened with Mike and Candice?”

“Yeah,” she replied with a sigh. “It’s not your fault though; the body being found there was bad publicity for the hotel, and the manager needed to fire
someone.
He wasn’t even mean about it, just very matter of fact.”

“I still feel responsible. You did us a huge favor and talked to us when you didn’t have to,” the deli owner said.
What if David and I questioning her got her in trouble?
she thought.
I might have cost this young woman her job. Besides, she’s Meg’s friend—I can’t just leave her jobless.
“I’ll take a look at your résumé, and of course I’ll need your driver’s license and social security card or birth certificate, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re hired.”

“Wow, thanks so much!” the young woman exclaimed. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

Moira left Allison with instructions to come back the following Monday for her first day of training, and then said goodbye. Meg stood at her shoulder, beaming as her friend waved to them both, then got in her car and pulled out of the parking lot. It wasn’t until the car was turning onto Main Street that Moira remembered what David had said.
He thought that whoever killed Mike was either someone he knew… or was someone that worked at the hotel and had a key to the room.
And she had just hired the very housekeeper that had discovered her ex-husband’s body. What had she done?

She second-guessed herself plenty, but by the next day she had mostly convinced herself that Allison was innocent. Surely the police had investigated her thoroughly, and besides, she seemed more than sincere in her desire to help Moira and David with any other information that she could remember.

Moira spent her time at the deli doing finances. They weren’t fun, but they had to be done, and it was reassuring to see how well the deli was doing.
Even better than last year,
she thought. She felt bad that Denise’s restaurant wasn’t doing so well. The other woman had just hired a second chef, and had a team of employees nearly four times the size of Moira’s crew.
Her costs must be through the roof
, she thought. Even though she knew it wouldn’t help much, she resolved to start stopping by more often, even if it was just to buy a drink or an appetizer. She was meeting David later to show him the stone house that she was so in love with—maybe they could go to dinner at the Redwood Grill first. Glad that she was only working until early afternoon today, she texted the private investigator to tell him her idea, then returned her attention to the columns of numbers in front of her. The deli might have been doing well, but she was still a long way from being able to afford that house.

David picked her up at her apartment a few hours later. He patted Maverick on the head and tossed him a treat, then offered Moira his arm. She took it, feeling glad that she had decided to dress up for their date that evening. David looked handsome in his dark green shirt and black pants, and his blue eyes seemed to sparkle as he gazed at her.

“You look nice,” he said as he held the car door open for her.

“Thanks,” she said, ignoring the blush that rose to her cheeks. “So do you.”

The Grill was only a short drive from her apartment, and they arrived there earlier than they usually did, before the dinner rush. Since they were meeting the real estate agent in just over an hour, Moira was glad that they wouldn’t have to wait long to be seated. Then she remembered her friend’s predicament and immediately felt guilty.
So what if I have to wait for a little bit before they seat me if it means this place can stay in business?

“What’s wrong?” David asked as the hostess lead them to their table. Moira waited until she was out of earshot before answering; she didn’t know yet if Denise’s employees knew about the trouble the Redwood Grill might be facing that winter.

“Denise said the Grill might not do so well this winter,” she said in a hushed voice. “She might have to cut back on hours and let some of her employees go.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” David said with a grimace. “I’ve come to love this place. I hope your friend figures something out. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“I will, but short of finding a way to stop winter from coming, I think this one is out of our hands.” They paused their conversation to order drinks, then spent a few minutes looking at the menu. Moira ordered a pasta Alfredo dish with broccoli and chicken, always eager to taste food that she hadn’t made herself. She realized that the Redwood Grill was one of the few places she ever ate out, unless she counted the occasional pizza with Candice.

“Something interesting happened yesterday,” she began when the waitress walked away. David looked up, his expression curious, and she went on to tell him about hiring Allison Byrd at the deli.

“That was nice of you,” he said. “I feel bad that she lost her job at the hotel.”

“Me too. I really hope it wasn’t because of anything we did,” she said. “She seems really nice.” She didn’t mention her concerns about Allison potentially being involved with Mike’s murder—they seemed too far-fetched now. She didn’t need to worry him over nothing.

“How is Candice doing?” he asked.

“She’s better. I think she and Adrian have been working on the toy store more. I need to stop by one of these days and see how it’s coming along.” She sighed. “I have to admit, I’m not too happy with the thought of that boy helping her so much. I just don’t have a good feeling about him.”

“Anything in particular, or just a bad vibe?” David asked her.

“Just a bad vibe. And it’s just recently; when Candice was drawing up her business plan, he was amazingly helpful. But I don’t like their on-again, off-again status. Lately, he’s said things to upset her.” She shrugged. “I’m probably just being overprotective. I know Candice can take care of herself; I just don’t want to see her get hurt.”

“I know.” He covered her hand with his and gave her a gentle smile. “You’re a good mom. I think you should trust your instincts. It won’t hurt to tell her how you feel, at least.”

Moira nodded; he was right. She might not be able to control everything about her daughter’s life anymore, but she could still do her best to help when she could. Candice already knew she didn’t like Adrian much, but there was always a chance that a calm, reasonable conversation might change her daughter’s mind about her boyfriend.