It Cannoli Be Murder

by Catherine Bruns

  My sleuthing would be limited after the restaurant opened. Then again, if we didn’t find the person responsible, I might not have to worry about customers. There were only two days to go, and despite everyone’s reassurances, I was still terrified no one would show up.

  “Earth to Tess,” Gabby sang.

  I jerked myself out of my thoughts. “Oh, sorry. What did you say?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I want to know what happened to Lorenzo.”

  I placed menus at each table. Gabby took a pile and did the same. “I called Carlita after Paddy took him away, and she started crying on the phone. I’m guessing she went to bail him out, because I heard nothing back after that.”

  “You’re convinced he didn’t kill her?” Gabby’s voice was full of doubt.

  “No, I don’t think so. It’s hard to fake grief like that, Gabs. But he’s got such a temper. It concerns me what Lorenzo might do if—”

  “If someone pushed him too far,” Gabby finished the sentence for me. “Yeah, I know what that feels like. There were plenty of times in high school that I wanted to haul off and smack Daphne when she bullied me, but I was afraid of the consequences. I know that’s terrible to say, especially now that she’s dead.”

  “It’s understandable.”

  She groaned in frustration. “Personally, I think Paddy and the police are looking in the wrong direction. I’m not convinced Lorenzo is the killer either. By the time they figure it all out, my store may be done for. I never thought my dream would get extinguished so soon.”

  “What if I lent you some money to tide—”

  “I already told you, no. I appreciate it, Tess, but feel bad enough about involving you in this. Look what happened to your car, for goodness’ sake. That’s a lot of money to have to shell out, and I know you’re watching your pennies, too. I can give it another week or two but then I’ll have to close down if things don’t improve.” She glanced at me hopefully. “If you still need another waitress by then, I’d be grateful if you considered me for the job.”

  “Of course, you can have the job, but don’t give up yet,” I pleaded. “We’re close, I can feel it.”

  Gabby draped an arm around my shoulders. “Forget about my problem. What can I do to help with opening night?”

  I managed a smile. “Everything is ready to go. I’ve been working on this for weeks, remember. Like you, all I need is customers. So far, I only have one reservation for Saturday and it’s Matt.”

  “Ew.” Gabby sounded like a little kid who’d been served a plate of vegetables. “Thanks for the warning. By the way, I’m never waiting on him, unless he wants to wear his dinner. The reservations will come, or you’ll have lots of walk-ins at the last minute. You’re a fantastic chef, Tess. The entire town knows it. If they don’t show, that’s my fault, too.”

  “Stop saying that. It’s not true.” I went back into the kitchen and Gabby followed. I was restless and needed to keep moving. Besides the murder, I was missing Dylan terribly today and distractions helped.

  My phone pinged from the counter with a text from Justin. Just got off work. Will you be around tomorrow morning? There’s something I need to tell you.

  My chest tightened as I read the message. He must have decided to take Natalie back. The decision made me sad for him. Didn’t he know it was a mistake? Once a cheater, always a cheater was what I believed, but again, this was his life. I would always be supportive because our friendship meant a great deal to me, and I didn’t want to lose it.

  With clumsy fingers, I texted back. I’ll be leaving for the restaurant at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. See you around eight thirty?

  Gabby looked at me quizzically. “Bad news?”

  “It’s fine,” I said hastily, not wanting to get into it, even with her. “Justin’s going to stop and see me tomorrow, that’s all. Getting back to Daphne’s murder, I wonder if there’s any way we can find out if Sylvia and Preston had a prenup.”

  “I thought I told you that they didn’t. Sylvia bragged about it on her show one day.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  She grinned. “Nope. Her guest was some famous divorce lawyer turned chef. She rambled on and on about how their marriage was trustworthy and loving and they never felt the need for one.” Gabby stuck a finger down her throat for the full effect. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well, we know their marriage had problems. Wouldn’t she have divorced him already if there was no prenup in place?”

  Gabby shrugged. “Who knows? She could have been lying. Sylvia clearly loves the good life, so it would be difficult for her to walk away from it. Plus, Preston got her the job on the show, remember. He may have had the power to take it away if she divorced him. From Sylvia’s point of view, it might have been easier to eliminate the problem—Daphne herself—and stay married to the louse.”

  A sharp rapping on the back door sounded, and Gabby let out a low squeak. We were both on edge these days. “Who is it?” I called loudly.

  “Your favorite cousin,” a male voice yelled back.

  Gabby went over to open the door. “To set the record straight, I’m the favorite around here.”

  Gino pointed a finger at me in accusation. “Paddy told me all about Lorenzo’s arrest. Assaulting a police detective? Real nice. Why were you with that guy? He may be a killer. I told you to ask the Garcias a few questions—not become Lorenzo’s best friend. Why do you refuse to listen to anything that I tell you?”

  Gabby’s mouth twitched. “She’s like my twin, isn’t she, bro?”

  “Not funny,” he growled at her. “Assaulting a member of the police force is a big deal. Poor Carlita had to come down to bail out her son. He’s going to have to stand trial for this. And Paddy’s convinced now that he killed Daphne.”

  “He was upset,” I said in Lorenzo’s defense, “and Paddy was goading him. I don’t think he killed her.”

  “That guy is like a loose cannon, ready to go off at any second,” Gino remarked. “Just because he’s Carlita’s son doesn’t make him innocent.”

  “I’m aware of this. But the woman he loved was murdered. His baby died. How do you think he’d react?”

  Gino shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve learned to expect this attitude from my sister, but not you, Tess,” he said reproachfully.

  Gabby placed her hands on her hips. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “How about a cappuccino, your favorite?” I gestured at my new espresso machine with a smile, hoping to ward off another sibling argument.

  He gave me a look that told me I wasn’t fooling him. “To go, please. I have to get back to work.”

  As the drink brewed, I asked the million-dollar question. “Is Sylvia being brought in for questioning?”

  “Unreal. You never stop.” Gino looked both exasperated and worn out, and I couldn’t help thinking he’d be keeling over with exhaustion in about six months. “If you must know, Paddy’s going to bring her in tomorrow morning. I can’t be there of course, but he’ll get her to crack.”

  “Like an egg, I’m sure,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Jeez, that almost makes me sorry for her and I can’t stand Sylvia,” Gabby remarked. “But I do think she did it. Her husband was carrying on with a younger woman, and Sylvia wanted her gone. Daphne’s father told us that Sylvia hated her. And she wanted me and Tess to stop interfering so she threw a rock through my window and defaced Tessa’s car.”

  I’d been thinking about the rock incident all day. It wasn’t sitting well with me. “We can’t be certain that Sylvia tossed the rock through your window, Gabs.”

  She stared at me, perplexed. “What are you talking about? The note was written on her stationery.”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t make sense. Why would she use her own stationery? Clearly anyone who was in the Rigotta household had access t
o it because Daphne wrote her doctor’s appointment on one. Sure, Sylvia had a motive, but she isn’t stupid. Someone might be trying to frame her for the murder.”

  “Maybe Tess should be the one questioning Sylvia,” Gabby slyly told her brother.

  He snorted back a laugh. “Well, we know that can’t happen. If Paddy catches either one of you near the police station tomorrow, we’re all going to catch heat.”

  “Can’t Lou sit in on it?” Gabby asked. “Maybe he could let Tessa come too, on the pretense that—”

  He glared at her. “No. After the recent stunt you pulled at the Rigottas’, Lou can’t be present either. And Tessa is not a police officer. End of discussion.”

  “You let me in the room when you questioned Matt about Dylan’s death,” I pointed out.

  “That was different,” he said calmly. “Matt asked for you that time. Don’t worry, Paddy can handle her. I know you’re hooked on the theory she did it because of the chocolate that the housekeeper bought but—”

  I didn’t let him finish. “That’s only part of it. She must have been worried that we had something on her. Plus she hated Daphne so much that she couldn’t even say her name; she kept calling her ‘that woman.’” I almost mentioned that someone from the Rigotta household had called Daphne’s doctor to try to obtain information on her condition but stopped myself in time. If Gino knew about the phone bill, it wouldn’t go over well. “If Preston had another child, Sylvia might worry she’d get less of his fortune.”

  Gino considered this while he took a sip of his drink. “It’s possible, but you two need to leave it alone now and let Paddy handle this. Tessa, you have a new restaurant to worry about. By the way, make sure you reserve a table for me and Lucy and the boys for seven o’clock. Lucy may have an important announcement to make to our mothers. Thanks for the drink.” He gave Gabby’s hair a tug. “Behave.”

  After he’d shut the door behind him, Gabby picked up her car keys. “Well, I’d better get over to the store.”

  I glanced at my watch. “It’s seven o’clock. You’re not even open for business at this hour. What on earth do you have to do there now?”

  “Nothing.” She stared at me mournfully. “I want to sit in one of my comfy easy chairs and read a book. Get lost in another world for a while. Savor the precious time I have left there.”

  “I’m going home within the hour,” I said brightly. “Why don’t you stop over when you’re done? We’ll watch an old movie on the TV. Something in black-and-white.”

  A smile formed at the corners of her mouth. “I’ll bring my DVD of Gone with the Wind. Our favorite.”

  “It’s a date. And I happen to have some freshly made tiramisu, if you feel up to it.”

  “If I feel up to it? Is the Pope Catholic?” Gabby’s eyes sparkled with new hope. “You’re the best cousin ever, did you know that?”

  “Well, the feeling’s mutual. Hey, take my sweater off the hook. It’s getting chilly out there.”

  She frowned. “But what will you use?”

  “I’m fine. I have a spare jacket in the rental.”

  Gabby obediently put my sweater on and pulled the hood over her head. “See you in a little while, hon.”

  After she was gone, I started on a lasagna filling for the taste test tomorrow. I had wide noodles that I’d already frozen and would put the entire pan together in the morning.

  I kept thinking about Daphne’s killer while I worked. Funny how making a lasagna was similar to solving a mystery. You had to have all the right ingredients and layer them with care. It took precision and patience, but we were running out of time. We needed to figure this puzzle out before Gabby lost her dream. Before we both did.

  I set the covered bowl in the fridge and picked up my purse. The envelope from the doctor’s office caught my eye. If Gino had known I was stealing people’s mail, he would have gone nuts. If Paddy had known, I’d be behind bars. I hadn’t had time to look at it closely before and studied the contents with interest now.

  Name: Sylvia Annette Rigotta. Age: Forty-four. She’d been in for an annual checkup the same day that Daphne had her ultrasound. How ironic. I looked at her previous medical history and the surgeries listed at the bottom of the page. An appendectomy back in 1990. Then there was the note about her hysterectomy. May 1998. That would make it twenty-two years ago for the surgery next month.

  I placed the paper back in my purse and headed for the back door. Then the realization hit me like a brick wall. That date was impossible. Willow had just turned twenty-one, so how could Sylvia have had a hysterectomy before her birth? Medical records didn’t lie.

  I sucked in a deep breath, confident I had my answer as to who had killed Daphne. Yes, it all fit now.

  * * *

  My heart thumped away at a furious pace as I left Gino a message. “Hey, it’s me,” I said into the phone. “Call me back as soon as you can. Hopefully before Paddy questions Sylvia. I’ve got some new information to share.”

  As soon as I clicked off, my phone pinged with a text from Gabby. Can you come over to the store right away? I think I twisted my ankle and can’t drive home.

  Worried, I texted back. Are you okay?

  Her reply came within a minute. Yeah. I don’t think it’s broken but can’t put any pressure on it.

  On my way. I’d hoped to go to the police station, but my theory would have to wait for a while. Besides, I could bring Gabby to the station with me, or after she was seen in the emergency room. Knowing her, she’d most likely refuse treatment.

  As I drove to the bookstore, my thoughts wandered back to Daphne. True, she had been unlikeable, but she also had some redeeming qualities I’d never known about before. Because of her death, her father was now left heartbroken and alone. He needed justice for his daughter, and Gabby needed her business back.

  I was relieved to discover that the killer wasn’t Lorenzo. The raw emotion in his face when he’d learned about the baby had helped to convince me he was innocent. But up until now, there was a person I hadn’t really considered. Someone that I’d been aware of, but unlikely a possible killer. That phrase Gabby had coined last year rang true again: No one is exempt.

  I pulled my car up in front of the bookstore. Darkness had settled on Harvest Park, and the inside of the store was pitch black as well. I tried the doorknob. Locked. I rapped on the door with a series of sharp taps. “Gabs?” I called loudly. “Can you let me in?”

  My phone beeped with a text from her. I unlocked the back door for you. I can’t move around much, it hurts.

  She sounded like she was in a lot of pain. Concerned, I hurried around to the back of the building, and the knob turned easily in my hand. What a relief. As soon as I entered the room, I knew something was wrong. A strong sense of foreboding shot through me. I took a step back toward the door to retreat, but someone grabbed me and shoved me across the room.

  I let out a shriek as I stumbled against the small kitchen table. My head connected with a solid surface near the floor, most likely Gabby’s mini-fridge. I landed on my back, groaning with pain. Too stunned to move, I remained there, frightened by the person who lurked in the darkness. And where was my cousin?

  I brought a hand up to my forehead, which throbbed with pain, and touched a wet and sticky spot. Blood, no doubt. My other hand connected with something soft and warm next to me on the floor. It was a body. Cold, stark fear settled inside me as I moved my hand over the figure. My fingers connected with short, silky hair. “Gabs?” I let out a low sob.

  Her breathing was heavy and uneven, but there was no answer.

  My phone was still in my jeans pocket. The screen shimmered in the dark when I pulled it out. A flashlight shone directly in my eyes, and I winced from the glare. The phone was kicked out of my hand, and I cried out in pain. I turned to see Gabby lying in a fetal position next to me, a large, bloody gash on the back of her
head. The light blinked off as I gasped and gently touched her face. “Gabs, can you hear me?”

  I moved my back up against the wall. Nausea whirled through my stomach, and I was afraid I might be sick. A low laugh sounded nearby. Anger flickered inside me like a flame. “Coward,” I hissed into the darkness. “You don’t even have the guts to let me see your face.”

  The light shone directly in my eyes again, but this time I kept my gaze level at the person behind it. As I’d suspected earlier, the cold, calculating eyes of Marta Eldridge blazed back at me.

  Twenty-Two

  “Don’t play stupid,” Marta sneered. “You knew it was me. Do you think I’m an idiot? You lifted Sylvia’s doctor’s report and the phone bill at the house today. I figured you might put everything together. But I thought it was you leaving the restaurant until Gabby got out of the car.”

  “I had to get a rental car, thanks to your decorating skills. You’d better pray that she’s okay.” My head ached from where I’d struck it. The intense brightness of the flashlight added to the discomfort. I forced myself to look at Gabby’s unmoving figure.

  “Don’t try to change the subject,” Marta said angrily. “Willow told me she mentioned Sylvia’s hysterectomy to you. She tells me everything. It would have been on the report you stole. She had a physical recently.”

  Gabby’s face was warm to my touch. Her breathing seemed a little more even now. Her eyes were closed, and she looked so pale. She needed medical attention soon. “You hit her on the head with the flashlight when she opened the door, didn’t you?” Rage bubbled up inside me.

  Marta giggled like a schoolgirl. “Yes. But don’t worry. She never even knew what hit her.”

  I was aware of blood slowly trickling down the side of my head and swiped at it with my hand. “You lured Daphne here after the signing.” Everything had suddenly become clear. “You must have called and said that Willow needed to see her about Preston’s book, and you brought the cannoli. It was you in Sylvia’s car that night, following me around. But you wanted me to see you and think it was Sylvia. Then you used her stationery to write the note that you tossed through Gabby’s window. You did everything possible to frame Sylvia for Daphne’s murder. But why kill Daphne?”