Shamrocks and Murder

by Patti Benning

  “It’s no problem,” Moira said. “I always like seeing the farmhouse. You’re taking such good care of it. The new paint has really done wonders for the building.”

  “It’s a lovely house,” Thelma said. “If I didn’t know that your daughter wanted to move back in here, I would even consider offering to buy it. Don’t worry, though. I’ll begin my search for my own place soon, and I’ll be out of here by the time Candice is ready to move back.”

  “I know that she couldn’t have been happier to rent this place to you,” Moira said with a smile.

  “It was the perfect solution for both of us,” Thelma said. “Anyway, we should probably get down to business. I know you’re busy. Miriam’s waiting in the kitchen. Her husband couldn’t make it. We’ve got a few ideas for the menu, but I know this is short notice. Whatever you can come up with will be fine.”

  “I should be able to cater anything that is on the deli’s usual menu,” she said. “You aren’t planning on having that many people, so it shouldn’t make too big of a dent in our pantry.”

  “Don’t put yourself out for this. We will enjoy whatever you bring. I do have one request, though.”

  “Oh? What?”

  “Well, the party is on St. Patrick’s Day… so, how would you feel about dying some of the food green?”

  Moira smiled. “That is definitely doable.”

  She followed Thelma into the kitchen where Miriam greeted her cheerfully. “Thanks so much for coming out here today. I’m excited for this. I’ve never put on a party before, so this should be fun.”

  “That’s the goal,” Moira said. “Now, let’s talk about the menu. As you know, I mostly make soups and sandwiches, but we also do things like quiches and breakfast cookies for our breakfast hours. Since it’s St. Patrick’s Day themed, and you want festive food, it’s going to be a lot easier to dye quiches, breakfast cookies, and crêpes than it will be to dye sandwiches or soups green. How would you feel about a breakfast food party?”

  “Did you say you make crepes? I love crepes. I’m all for it,” Miriam said.

  “We do,” Moira said. “And we can make them with pretty much any toppings you want. The sweet ones are our most popular, but some people prefer the savory ones.”

  “That sounds like it’ll be perfect,” Miriam said.

  “And you’ve got to try the quiches, too,” Thelma said. “Moira’s mini quiches are the best. She gets the crust just perfect, every time.”

  “I can’t take all the credit,” Moira said with a chuckle. “My manager, Darrin, is a big part of it. He usually works mornings, and he’s great at making breakfast foods. Now, where were you thinking of setting up?”

  “In here?” Miriam asked, looking around the kitchen. “No, it probably won’t be big enough. We could move some of the furniture in the living room and have the food in there. Do you think that would work?”

  “It should,” Moira said. “If the weather is unexpectedly nice, we could even set up outside. I’ll probably use the kitchen as a base of operations, so I’ll need some space in the fridge, and the stove and oven will have to be clear. I’ll supply serving dishes, but you will have to handle the plates. Do you have folding tables we can set up?”

  “I can buy some,” Thelma said. “I’ve been meaning to get some anyway.”

  “Don’t bother, I have some at home,” Miriam said. “Alan and I will drive the van. They should fit in there all right.”

  “Do you live nearby?” Moira asked.

  “I’m about half an hour away from here,” Miriam said. “My house is small, though, and it wouldn’t work well for a gathering like this, which is why we’re having it here. Plus, the farm is just beautiful.”

  “That it is,” Thelma said.

  “Okay,” Moira said. “This was easy. I’ll email you a suggested menu, and you guys can point out any changes you want to make, okay? I’ll get that to you this evening.”

  “It should be perfect,” Thelma said. “Do you want to stay for a little while? You’re welcome to have breakfast with us. Miriam drove all the way here this morning for the meeting, so we planned a whole day to go shopping and see the sights here in Maple Creek.”

  “No, sorry,” Moira said. “I’ve got to get back to the deli. We’re interviewing for a new employee today, and we’ve got three people lined up. Darrin, my manager, is going to be doing most of the work, but I would still like to sit in on the interviews.”

  “Oh, you’re hiring someone new? That’s exciting. Who do you have in mind?”

  “You know, I actually haven’t looked at the final three people. I had my employee pick the best of the applicants, then I narrowed down the list and told him to call his favorites.” She chuckled. “I should probably know their names before I walk into an interview with them.”

  She pulled up the email that Darrin had sent her the night before on her phone and checked the applicant’s files again. She hadn’t paid much attention to their names the first time around; she had been more focused on their work experience and why they said they wanted the job. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw one name in particular. Zach Evans. The waiter who had served her and David the night of Hector’s murder had been named Zach. Was it the same person? She checked his work experience. The Redwood Grill was listed as his most recent employer. There was no doubt about it; it was him.

  “Is everything okay?” Miriam asked, sounding concerned.

  “Sorry. Yes, everything’s fine. I’ve got to get going, though. I hope the two of you have a nice day. I’ll email you tonight about the menu.”

  She left in a hurry, not sure what this coincidence meant, but knowing that she didn’t want to miss Zach’s interview – and it was the first one that Darrin had scheduled for the day.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  * * *

  Moira rushed from Thelma’s house to the deli. She should have been paying more attention to who the interviewees were. She had no idea why Zach was applying to the deli. Had he quit his job at the Grill? She had checked the date on the application, and he had turned it in just the week before. She desperately wanted to call Denise but knew that she couldn’t. Her friend was still being held at the Maple Creek Police Department, and she doubted Detective Jefferson would take a message.

  “Where’s Darrin?” Moira asked Allison as she walked through the deli’s front doors a few minutes later.

  “He’s in the back with the with one of the people you’re interviewing for the job,” Allison said.

  So, Zach was early. Normally she would have taken that as a good sign in a prospective employee, but right now she was more concerned with figuring out why the young man was there at all. She hurried into the back to find Zach and Darrin sitting across from each other at the small table that the employees used to store their items and eat lunch on. They both looked up when she burst through the door, wearing mirrored expressions of surprise.

  “Is everything okay, Ms. D.?” Darrin asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said, realizing how insane she must look. “I was just worried about being late.”

  “You’re not,” Darrin said. “Zach was a bit early, so I decided to bring him back and start asking some of the questions you gave me. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Well, I did tell you to take initiative,” Moira said, forcing herself to smile at him. “Of course that’s fine, Darrin. I’ll just sit down and join you two. Carry on.”

  Darrin cleared his throat and refocused his attention on Zach. “Well, it looks like you have plenty of experience. Between the Redwood Grill, and the diner you worked at before that, you have certainly spent a lot of time in the food service industry. What made you want to work with food in the first place?”

  “I’ve always loved cooking,” Zach said. “It’s hard to get a position in the kitchen unless you have a lot of experience or have been to a cooking school, and I can’t afford a good school, so I decided to do it the hard way. I was actually just about to move up to sous chef at the
Grill before I left.”

  “Why did you decide to leave your position there?” Moira said. “Not to be too blunt about it, but I know Denise pays better than I do. The restaurant is busier, and it would look a lot better on your resume if you worked as a sous chef there than taking a general job here will.”

  “Honestly, I just didn’t get along with a couple of the other people at the Grill. One of the chefs was very touchy about the kitchen and would get upset if the smallest thing went wrong, and I didn’t like working in such an intense environment. I know that’s the way that a lot of professional kitchens are, and it’s something I’ll have to get used to if I want to work in one someday, but I was always stressed about going into work and it was beginning to take its toll.”

  “Who were you having issues with?”

  “Hector, the chef who had been there the longest. He was very particular about his food and… well, I don’t really want to speak badly about him. Not after what happened to him.”

  Moira nodded. She didn’t blame the young man. She had never liked speaking poorly of the dead herself. Somehow it just didn’t feel right to bring up petty grievances when the other person was gone.

  “I recognize you,” he said after a moment. “I served you a couple of nights ago, didn’t I? It must’ve been my last night there.”

  “Yes, you did,” Moira said. “That’s one of the reasons I was so interested in being here for your interview. I was surprised to see your application.”

  She listened for the rest of the interview but didn’t add anything else herself. She was too busy thinking. Zach had admitted to having a problem with Hector. His last day there had been the day of Hector’s murder. Was it just a coincidence, or did this mean that Zach had something to do with his death? Did Denise know about it? Too much just didn’t add up. All she knew for certain was that her friend was in trouble, and she needed someone on the outside to help prove her innocence… if, of course, she really was innocent.

  Moira didn’t think that Denise had killed Hector, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t involved in the murder in some way. Her friend wasn’t a killer. She was, however, fiercely loyal to those who she cared about. If something had happened between Julian and Hector, or Logan and Hector, or maybe even Zach and Hector, then she might try to cover for one of them. Without being able to ask Denise about any of it, she had no way to get answers.

  After Zach left, they had another hour until the next interviewee was supposed to arrive. Moira went out to the front to talk to Allison while Darrin started working in the kitchen.

  “I saw your aunt today,” she said as she bent down to rearrange the bottles of soda in the refrigerator. “She’s doing well. She and her friend are excited for this little party they have planned.”

  “It sounds like it will be fun. Aunt Thelma invited me, but I don’t know any of the people that will be there, so I declined. Unless, of course, you need me to help cater.”

  “I think Darrin and I can handle it. There won’t be too many people, so it shouldn’t be too hard. Plus, we are doing the breakfast menu, and nothing will take very long to prepare.”

  “People are going to love the crepes,” Allison said. “And the quiches. Those are Darrin’s specialty.”

  “That’s what I told them,” Moira said. “I’m hoping for a nice, easy day.”

  Her phone rang, and she pulled it out to silence the call, embarrassed. She asked her employees to keep their phones on vibrate while they were at work, but she was terrible at remembering to do it herself.

  When she saw the police station’s number, she excused herself and stepped outside to take the call. It might be a bad example for her employees, but some things just couldn’t wait.

  “Hello?” she said, shielding the phone from the breeze outside.

  “Moira?” It was Denise’s voice. “I’m so glad you answered.”

  “I’m so happy to hear from you,” Moira said. She’d been expecting to hear Jefferson on the other line. Her friend’s voice was a welcomed surprise. “Are they releasing you?”

  “No,” Denise said. “Not yet, anyway. Jefferson is letting me make this call because I needed to make arrangements for my house. I have a couple of plants that need watering, and the mail needs to be brought in. I was wondering, would you be willing to do that for me? I don’t know how long I’ll be here, and I don’t want the house to be sitting empty the whole time. If you can, whenever you stop to get the mail, could you also switch some lights off, and switch other ones on, so it looks like someone is still living there?”

  “Of course,” Moira said. Her concern deepened. It sounded like Denise was making plans to be away for a long time. “Is there anything else you need?”

  “No,” Denise said. She hesitated, then said, “Actually, there is something… have you heard from either Julian or Logan recently?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Moira said. “The police are looking for them both.”

  “I know,” Denise said. “It’s so scary.”

  She didn’t sound scared, Moira thought. She sounded almost… relieved. Moira was bursting with questions, about Logan and Julian as well as Zach, but now wasn’t the time to ask them.

  “You’ll need the code for the locks. Do you have something to note it down on?” She waited while Moira went back into the deli to grab a pen and a piece of paper, then recited two codes. “I have to go now. Detective Jefferson is waiting to take me back to my cell.”

  “Okay. I hope you’re all right, Denise. If there’s anything else you need, please tell me. I want to help you.”

  “I know,” the other woman said. “Thank you. You have no idea what it means to me to have your support.”

  The line went dead. Moira slipped her phone into her pocket, feeling unsettled. Why had her friend sounded relieved to learn that her nephew was still missing? Was Denise expecting her to read between the lines and figure something out? It was frustrating, especially since there was no one that the deli owner could turn to. With luck, Hector’s background check would be back soon, and it might reveal something that she and David could use to locate the real killer. For now, she would simply do what her friend had asked her to do; she would bring in the mail, water the plants, and make sure the house was ready for whenever Denise was free to return to it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  * * *

  It was dark by the time Moira got out of work that evening. She had arrived early for the interviews, and she had been scheduled to work for the afternoon shift, so she ended up staying the entire day. She had been forced to send a text to David in the middle of the day to ask him to run home and let the dogs out. She felt bad about leaving them alone for so long, but they had an unusually busy day and they didn’t always have interviews first thing in the morning.

  By the time she got home, she was exhausted, and knew that she wouldn’t make it to Denise’s that night. David was intrigued to hear about the call but was even more interested in the fact that Zach was applying to work at the deli.

  “Did Denise know about this?” he asked. “Did he resign before or after Hector’s death?”

  “I don’t know,” Moira said. “I didn’t get a chance to ask her.”

  “I think you should mention it to Detective Jefferson,” he said. “He might be a person of interest in their case, since he was another one of Hector’s co-workers.”

  “You’re right. I don’t know why I didn’t think of calling him. I’ll do it tomorrow. It’s too late now, and I don’t want to disturb his evening again for something that isn’t an emergency.”

  “Do you mind if I come with you to Denise’s house when you stop by to get the mail in the morning? With everything that’s been going on, I wouldn’t feel right letting you go on your own.”

  “Of course not,” she said. “Even if it wasn’t for the murder, I would be happy to have your company. I married you for a reason, you know.”

  He grinned. “It’s good to know that you married me so you could h
ave a dedicated bodyguard whenever trouble comes sniffing for you.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m talking about companionship.”

  “I know,” he said. “I’m just joking.”

  “How was your day? I feel like we’ve been focusing so much on what’s going on in my life that I’ve been neglecting to ask about yours.”

  “It was pretty good,” he said. “Karissa and I are going to be expanding the brewery soon. We will be adding another wing to the building, and we’ll be buying some better equipment. At least my midlife crisis is productive,” he laughed.

  “Is that what you think the brewery is?” she asked. “A midlife crisis?”