A Slice of Murder

by Chris Cavender

  Bob nodded his approval as he saw what I’d created for him, then leaned against the counter and watched as the pizza slowly disappeared into the oven. “That’s a nice-looking rig you’ve got there. I could speed it up for you if you’d like.”

  I knew Bob was handy in a great many more areas than fixing cars, but just because he could do it didn’t mean he should. “If you do that, the pizzas won’t finish baking when they make it through the oven.”

  “I could crank that up for you, too. You could have pizzas in half the time.”

  “Thanks, Bob, but why don’t we just leave things the way they are now. It won’t be long. Can I get you something to drink while you’re waiting?”

  “Sure, that would be great.”

  I grabbed a cup from the cupboard, then asked, “What would you like?”

  “A Coke would be great,” he said as he reached for his wallet.

  “It’s on the house,” I said.

  “Eleanor, how do you expect to make a profit if you give your stuff away?”

  “We could always barter,” I said with a grin.

  “No, thanks, I doubt I could eat that much pizza.”

  I went to the front and filled the cup with soda, put a lid on it, then carried it back into the kitchen. The pizza was done, but it looked too cheesy even for me. “Sorry, I think I overdid it,” I said. “Do you have time to wait while I make you another one?”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked as he looked over my shoulder. “That’s perfect.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure,” I said as I cut it and slid it into a box.

  He took the pizza, grabbed his drink, and I followed him out front and held the door open for him. “Thanks for getting to my window so fast, Bob,” I said.

  “You’re welcome. I’ll put the bill in the mail tomorrow.”

  “I’m counting on it,” I said. I would gladly pay to have the use of my own car back. It was amazing how helpless I felt without my transportation. Now I wouldn’t have to depend on Maddy to ferry me around town. While I was sure she didn’t mind, I did. Since my widowhood, I’d become fiercely independent, almost too proud or stubborn to take help from anyone else.

  Maybe David was right. There were walls I didn’t need standing in my way, but I was afraid that by the time I made any progress in tearing them down, it would be too late.

  It was twenty minutes till ten, and I had started cleaning up in back earlier so we could get out at a decent time. I had as many of the dishes finished as I could, so I decided to see what a mess the answering machine was. Since the murder, I hadn’t kept up with checking the messages, so I knew I was going to have a bunch of them.

  The number fifty flashed on my machine, which was the limit of messages it could hold. Who would have ever believed it would get that high? Grabbing a pen and some paper, I sat down at my cramped desk and hit REPLAY.

  There were the expected comments of support, a few frustrated attempts to order pizza, and a couple of comments that were too rude to keep. Oddly enough, the last twenty calls were all hang-ups. How could that be? Wouldn’t people get the message after a while and stop calling?

  I had just hit the erase button when the phone rang. Though I had turned the ringer off the day before, I could still see the light flashing. Without even realizing I was doing it, I answered the phone, “A Slice of Delight.”

  There was a moment’s hesitation, and then a low voice said, “I need a pizza delivered.”

  “I’m sorry, but we’re getting ready to close, and our delivery service will be unavailable for the foreseeable future.”

  After another pause, the voice said, “I’ll give you one hundred dollars for a pizza tonight.”

  “I’m sorry, but no.” We got our share of nuts, but this one was quickly climbing to the top of the charts.

  “Two hundred,” the voice rasped out.

  I suddenly realized that there was something going on here more than a pizza. I decided to play along. “Okay, I could probably make an exception for two hundred dollars. Who’s calling, please?”

  Another pause, then the voice said, “Shook.”

  That was an easy alias to come up with, since you couldn’t swing a big stick in our part of the world without hitting someone named Shook.

  “And where would you like this delivered?” I asked.

  No hesitation this time. “Eighty-two West End Avenue.”

  “Very good,” I said as Maddy walked back into my office.

  “Good-bye,” the caller said. I shouted out, “Hang on a second! You didn’t say what kind of pizza you wanted!”

  After another hesitation, the voice said, “Plain,” and then they hung up.

  Maddy said, “I thought we weren’t going to answer the telephone for a while, especially to take delivery orders.”

  I cradled the telephone back as I explained, “Something was very wrong with that call. They offered me two hundred dollars to deliver a pizza, but then they had to think about what kind they wanted. Does that sound like a pizza lover to you?”

  “You’re not going, are you?”

  I thumbed the paper I’d written the address down on. “What choice do I have? This could lead me straight to the killer.”

  “Or get both of us killed,” Maddy said. I was proud of my sister for including herself, as if it was just assumed that she’d be with me.

  “We won’t learn anything if we don’t take a risk,” I said.

  “The same thing can be said if we’re dead.”

  She reached for the phone, and I asked her, “Who are you calling?”

  “Kevin Hurley,” she said as she looked up Josh’s home number on our employee list, posted by the telephone. “I’m not a big fan of the chief’s, but this is actually something he needs to know.”

  I wanted to argue with her, but Maddy was right. It was one thing putting my own life in jeopardy, but I didn’t have the right to risk hers, and I knew there was no way I was going to go without her. If there was one person in the world more stubborn than me, it had to be my sister.

  “Chief, this is Maddy Spencer. We need you at the pizzeria.”

  She paused, then rolled her eyes as she said, “No, no one else is dead. But somebody’s trying to lure us into a trap, and if you don’t want our blood on your hands, you’ll come over before we do something stupid.”

  She hung up, then smiled at me. “That should get him over here.”

  “Have you completely lost your mind?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I shook my head. “It’s one thing to antagonize him accidentally, but you jabbed him when you didn’t have to.”

  “I didn’t feel like explaining over the telephone,” she said. “We can tell him what’s going on when he gets here.”

  I pulled out the last of the day’s dough and started forming it into the pan.

  “What are you doing?” Maddy asked me.

  “I’m making a pizza.”

  “Eleanor, they don’t actually want a pizza; you know that, don’t you?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not going empty-handed. And if this all turns out to be a misunderstanding, I’m not missing the chance to make two hundred bucks.” I added the sauce and cheese, then slid it onto the conveyor.

  Kevin arrived in record time. One minute before ten, the police chief came bursting into the Slice, and I was more than a little relieved to see that his gun was still in its holster. No one else was in the restaurant, and I’d sent Greg home right after Maddy had made the call to the chief. There was no reason in the world to drag him into my mess any more than I already had.

  “What’s going on?” Kevin asked. “And let me warn you, it had better be good.”

  “Tell him about the call, Eleanor,” Maddy said.

  “I got a delivery call about ten minutes ago,” I said.

  “What a shock. Who would think someone would call in for a pizza and expect someone to bring it to them.”

  He had a right to ma
ke that crack, so I let it slide. “I was getting to that,” I said. “The caller kept their voice low enough so that I couldn’t say for sure if it was a man or a woman. When I told them I wasn’t delivering, they offered me a hundred dollars.”

  That raised one of his eyebrows, so I continued before he could interject again. “When I turned them down, they made it two hundred dollars. I accepted, just to see what was going on. If that wasn’t odd enough, after they gave me the address, they forgot to actually order a pizza. When I pressed them on it, they hesitated, then ordered a plain one, not a cheese pizza, but one that was plain. Would you pay two hundred dollars for that?”

  “Where’s the address?” he asked as he reached for his radio.

  I looked at the slip. “Eighty-two West End Avenue.”

  He called up his dispatcher and asked for information on the address. Two minutes later, his radio beeped, and we all heard, “That’s an empty lot, Chief. It’s between two older buildings near the railroad tracks. What’s going on?”

  “I’m just heading over there,” he said.

  “Do you need backup?”

  He paused, then said, “No, I can handle it. Chief out.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’m the first to admit that I’m glad you’re going with us.”

  “You’re not going,” he said flatly. Before Maddy could say anything, he added, “Neither one of you are.”

  “You can’t do that,” I said.

  “Why can’t I?”

  I smiled. “The second they see your squad car, they’ll know what’s going on. We have to go in my Subaru, and we have to take a pizza with us.” I pointed to the oven as the pizza came off the conveyor.

  “Do you honestly think this is legitimate? If you do, you never should have called me in the first place.”

  “I couldn’t be sure, could I? Now, are you coming with me, or not?”

  He mulled it over, then said, “Fine, but I have some conditions.”

  “I’m listening,” I said.

  “The first one is a deal breaker. Maddy stays here,” he said forcefully.

  “I don’t think so,” she said.

  “Then I’m leaving, and you two can do what you want. I won’t jeopardize two civilians doing this. It’s not negotiable.”

  “Please?” I asked Maddy. “This could be important.”

  “Fine,” she said in a huff. “Since you two don’t need me, I’ll finish cleaning up the front. Come back here when you’re done. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  After she was gone, Kevin said, “I never thought she’d agree to that.”

  “Don’t expect me to be so pliable,” I said. “What are your other conditions?”

  “We take your Subaru, but I drive.”

  “Done,” I said.

  “That was almost too easy.”

  “I’m not a huge fan of driving at night anyway, so I don’t have a problem with you chauffeuring me around. What would the taxpayers think, though?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m on my own time here.”

  “But you’re in uniform,” I said.

  “I hadn’t gotten around to changing yet.”

  “Fair enough. Any other conditions?”

  “If nobody shows up, I get the pizza,” he said as he pointed to the pie.

  “I can live with that,” I said as I cut it and boxed it up.

  “Are you ready?” he asked me.

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  As we walked through the front, Maddy scowled at Kevin and without saying a word nodded her encouragement to me.

  I handed Kevin my keys, then slid into the passenger seat. As he started the car, he asked, “How’d you get that window replaced so quickly?”

  “I have connections,” I said.

  “Like Bob Pickering,” he replied. “I bet you bribed him with pizza, didn’t you?”

  “It’s been known to happen in the past,” I said. “He would have done it anyway. He’s a friend, but it was my way of saying thank you.”

  “Hey, I think it’s nice.” As he drove to the edge of Timber Ridge, he said, “Listen, it’s important that you do as I say when we get there. We’ll wait in the car a few minutes; then if no one shows, I’ll get out and look around.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want anybody else backing you up?”

  He shrugged. “You know what? It probably couldn’t hurt. I’ll see if Tanner’s on duty.” He got on his radio and called for one of his officers. “Lee, are you out there?”

  “Right here, boss. I thought you went home.”

  “Something came up,” he said as he glanced over at me. “What’s your twenty?”

  “I’m out on Viewmont Avenue,” he said. “Everything’s dead, though.”

  “Do me a favor. I’m going to West End, number eighty-two.”

  “You want me to meet you there?” It was clear that Lee Tanner was ready for some action, any action at all.

  “No, I’m keeping this quiet.” He explained the situation to his officer, then said, “I need you to come around to the alley behind West End. No lights or sirens, just keep an eye out in case someone comes through there.”

  “Got it. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

  “Then you’ll beat me. Hang back when you get close.”

  “Will do.”

  We drove the rest of the way in silence. The closer we got to the address, and the more run-down the neighborhood got, the happier I was that we’d called Kevin. I wasn’t sure I would have had the nerve to make the delivery all by myself, after what I’d found the other night.

  The street was empty as we approached the address.

  I couldn’t believe how black the night was. “It’s really dark, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, that might be because the streetlight’s out.”

  My headlights caught a shattered reflection, and Kevin said, “Somebody must have just knocked it out.”

  His hand went to his side where he kept his firearm, and mine tightened on the pizza box in my lap. That dislodged my purse, and I leaned forward to retrieve it as we pulled up to the address. As I bent over, without any warning, the driver’s side window shattered at the same instant I heard a boom.

  I hadn’t seen the flash from the gun, and before I could move, Kevin was out of the car. “Stay here,” he barked.

  I couldn’t believe it. He ran toward where the shot must have come from, instead of running away from it.

  I hated the idea that Kevin was out there in the dark chasing a madman, but I disliked the idea of sitting there waiting for the shooter to take another shot even more. At least I didn’t have to give them a target. I slid the pizza onto the backseat and crouched so low in the car that I doubted anyone would even know I was there.

  A torturous three minutes later, I heard footsteps approaching on the concrete, grinding a bit of the streetlight glass into the pavement as they neared.

  I was vulnerable and exposed, but that didn’t mean I was going down without a fight. I reached into my purse and grabbed my pepper spray, then opened the glove box and retrieved the window-breaking tool I kept there in case I had to get out in a hurry. Neither weapon would do me much good against a gun, but I still felt better having them.

  “Ellie?” Kevin’s voice called out. “Where are you?”

  “I’m right here,” I said as I straightened up in my seat. It was amazing how soft his voice had been when he’d called out my name. It was pretty clear that the chief, despite his protests to the contrary, still had a soft place in his heart for me. “Did you catch whoever took that shot at us?”

  “No, he got away.” Kevin got out his radio and said, “Lee, did you find anything?”

  “No, sir. I’m not sure which way the shooter went, but he didn’t come past me.”

  Just then, we heard a car pull out a block away, its tires screeching on the pavement. Slightly out of breath, Lee said, “I’m on it,” and I had to wonder if he was running back to his car as he spoke.

 
Kevin looked at the shattered window, then asked, “You don’t happen to have a broom or something like that, do you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” I said. “Is it safe for me to get out and go around to the back?”

  “I think so,” Kevin said. “I’m guessing our shooter’s long gone.”

  “I certainly hope so.” I got out of the car, feeling an itching between my shoulder blades the entire time as I moved to the back cargo space.

  I had a small whisk broom that I handed to Kevin. He shook his head, then took it anyway. “It should do.”

  He opened the driver’s side door, then grabbed a trash bag I had in front and swept the glass into it. “That should do until we get you home.”

  “What about the glass on the street?” I asked.

  “I’ll have Lee take care of it.”

  Just then, his radio squawked, and Officer Tanner got on. “Sorry, he got away. The guy must have been flying to lose me. Should I keep looking?”

  “No, why don’t you come back here. We need a crime scene checked.”

  “Be there in two,” he said, then signed off.

  “Is that what my car is now, a crime scene?” I asked.

  He pointed to the interior doorjamb near my head. “See that? It’s where the bullet ended up.” Kevin studied the trajectory, then said, “It’s a good thing you ducked down to get your purse. That bullet was heading straight for you.”

  “Why, though? It doesn’t make sense. I don’t know anything, so why would the killer want to get rid of me?”

  “It could have been random,” he said.

  “Or not,” I replied.

  After a moment, Kevin said, “I admit it’s possible that whoever killed Richard might have taken that shot.” There was a tacit implication that he finally believed I hadn’t had anything to do with the murder. At least I hoped there was.

  “I just don’t know why,” I said.

  “There’s something else. This could have been a robbery attempt that has nothing to do with Richard Olsen.”

  “Come on, do you honestly believe that?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” he said. “I read an article in the newspaper the other day that food delivery was one of the most dangerous jobs in the U.S. In big cities, they average a robbery a week.”