Murder with Macaroni and Cheese

by A. L. Herbert

  “Wow” just falls from my lips as I try to make sense of him flirting with me at the reunion and my date with him on Monday night. Why is he showing a romantic interest in me if he had a relationship with Raynell?

  “Yes. I loved Raynell, but, like all of us, she was imperfect and didn’t always make the best choices. Apparently they started working together and . . . you know . . . one thing led to another.”

  “Did Terrence know?”

  “No. At least I don’t think so. Raynell’s work involved all sorts of odd hours, so I doubt Terrence would have gotten suspicious if she wasn’t home some evenings. And she and Gregory had the perfect excuse to spend time together. I think she worked it out so Christy handled many of the business outings with Gregory—that way Raynell’s time with him could be more . . . shall we say social.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. It was mostly Christy who showed Gregory commercial properties and multimillion-dollar homes. She scheduled the appointments and did the research . . . and answered his calls.”

  “Multimillion-dollar homes? Gregory’s restaurant chain must really be doing well.”

  “It would appear that it is. And what you said earlier about Raynell standing to make a lot of money is very true. Commissions on commercial leasing are steep, and whoever sells him a home now will probably net tens of thousands of dollars from that commission alone, and—”

  Alvetta’s interrupted by a buzzing sound. She looks at the screen on the phone. “That’s the choir director. I really do need to meet with her.”

  “Sure, sure.”

  “Thanks again for stopping by.”

  “Of course. I hope you and Michael will come by the restaurant some time soon.”

  I get up from the chair and try to give Alvetta a hug, but the desk is too wide. Instead, I take her hand in mine. “Please call me if I can do anything for you. I’m sure this a rough time.”

  I exit Alvetta’s office with my mind aflutter. She has given me so much to think about. Despite her apparent grief, I still wonder if she knows about Raynell’s affair with Michael. Your supposed best friend sleeping with your husband is certainly motive for murder. I also wonder if Terrence knew about Raynell’s affairs with Michael . . . and/or Gregory. (Sister got around. That’s for sure.) Another motive for murder. Then I consider whether or not an old high school wound is enough motive for Gregory—or Kimberly—to kill Raynell. And, as I make my way to my van, I can’t help but think about what Alvetta said . . . how, with Raynell out of the picture, whoever helps Gregory close some real estate deals stands to make out like a bandit. If Christy has been Gregory’s go-to girl all along, wouldn’t she be his logical choice to assist him now that Raynell is dead? Is being positioned as the next in line to a hefty real estate commission enough reason for Christy to kill Raynell?

  Alvetta, Terrence, Gregory, Kimberly, Christy—they all had reasons to do away with Raynell. I guess it’s now up to me to figure out if any of them actually acted upon those reasons.

  CHAPTER 30

  When the elevator opens on the main level of the church I quickly scurry down the hall toward the exit. I’m in a rush to get back to Sweet Tea so, as I hasten toward the door, I almost miss her. But, as I pass the reception counter, my eyes take note of a familiar petite figure talking to the security guard. She’s holding a large cardboard box with both hands.

  “Christy?”

  “Halia. What are you doing here?” Christy asks and steps toward me.

  “I just came to check on Alvetta. What brings you this way?”

  “Alvetta asked me to pick up some photo albums from Raynell’s house and bring them over. She’s working on a tribute for Raynell’s service. I e-mailed her a bunch of electronic ones, but she wanted some of the older prints as well.”

  “Why didn’t she ask Terrence?”

  “Because Terrence probably wouldn’t have known where to find them.”

  “But you did?”

  “Please. I know where everything is in that house. When you work . . . worked for Raynell, you have a very loosely defined job description. I did much more than just assist her with her real estate business. When you pick up and put away someone’s dry cleaning, organize her closets, and oversee the installation of her new hardwood floors, you learn where things are.”

  “I guess so. Sounds like Raynell kept you very busy. Alvetta was just telling me that you were the one who did most of the work to help Gregory scout locations for his restaurant and find a home in the area.”

  “I guess that’s true, but he’s a nice person . . . easy to work with.”

  “So will you continue to work with him now that Raynell has passed?” I’m hoping it doesn’t sound too obvious that I’m fishing for information. “Sounds like you deserved whatever commissions were to come from the deal anyway.”

  “Maybe so, but unfortunately I’m not a licensed agent, so I’m not eligible for commissions. Technically, I shouldn’t have even been showing Gregory properties without a license, but Raynell wasn’t exactly one for always following rules.”

  Well, that blows my theory that Christy offed Raynell to get her hands on some real estate commissions. “I guess Gregory will have to find a new agent.” I almost add “and another mistress,” but keep those words to myself as I have no idea if Christy is aware of Raynell’s proclivity for extramarital affairs. No wonder she needed Christy to do all of her work. She was too busy swinging from the chandeliers with Gregory and her best friend’s husband, and God knows who else, to sell real estate.

  “Terrence has asked me to stay on for a few weeks to help field Raynell’s phone calls and settle some affairs, so I’m a little swamped, but I’ll give Gregory a call this week and set him up with another agent in Raynell’s office.”

  “That’s nice that you’re helping Terrence. I’m sure it’s a difficult time for him . . . and for you. How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay. Raynell was a hard ass and not the most respectful person in the world, but . . . I don’t know . . . I sort of miss her. She was like one of those yippy little dogs that growls and tries to nip everyone, but you sort of get used to having them around . . . and they leave a void when they’re no longer there.”

  “So you miss her like you might miss a mean Chihuahua? I hope you’re not writing the eulogy,” I say with a smile.

  Christy laughs. “No. I’m not sure who is . . . probably Alvetta or Terrence.”

  “How is Terrence?”

  “He’s hanging in there. I haven’t seen him in a few days.”

  “He wasn’t at the house when you went to pick up the albums?”

  “No. I think he had some errands to run.”

  I want to ask her how she got in the house if Terrence wasn’t there, but I think I’ve asked enough nosy questions for the time being. And, besides, it’s probably safe to assume she has a key to the Rollinses’ house given all the personal work she did for Raynell.

  “Well, give him my best next time you see him.”

  “Sure. I’ll probably be helping him out for another week or two, and then I need to start searching for a new job.”

  “I’m sure you won’t have any trouble on that front. What’s it they say about New York? ‘If you can make it there you can make it anywhere.’ I think the same thing goes for working with Raynell. If you can work for her, you can work for anyone.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Christy says. “I guess I had better get these albums to Alvetta.”

  “Okay. It was nice to run into you. Best of luck on your job search.”

  Christy and I part company, and, on my way to the parking lot, I visualize my suspect list in my head. I’m about to draw a line through Christy’s name—if she’s not eligible to receive any real estate commissions, that strips her of a key motive for killing Raynell. In fact, if she didn’t stand to make any financial gain from Raynell’s death, it’s unlikely she’d kill the person who signs her paychecks and makes it possible for her to earn a livin
g. I picture a line going through her name, but I’m not quite ready to cross her off the list entirely. Maybe she didn’t get rich off Raynell’s demise and is facing unemployment as a result of her death. But, much like everyone else Raynell came into contact with, she treated Christy pretty badly. From what I saw she mostly just barked orders at her all day. And that’s how Raynell treated her in public—who knows how bad it was in private. Maybe Christy had enough, was going to quit anyway, but, before she did, figured she’d kill Raynell for no other reason than Raynell being an insufferable witch.

  RECIPE FROM HALIA’S KITCHEN

  Halia’s All-Natural Margaritas

  Ingredients

  ¾ cup tequila

  ¼ cup triple sec

  ⅓ cup honey

  1 large orange, peeled and de-seeded

  1 lime, peeled and de-seeded

  1 lemon, peeled and de-seeded

  6 cups ice

  Combine all ingredients in blender. Blend on high until smooth. Salt rims of glasses if desired.

  Four Servings

  Note: If blender is not large enough to add 6 cups of ice at once, start with 4 cups, blend until smooth, then add remaining cups, and blend again.

  CHAPTER 31

  “Why don’t you run home and change clothes before you meet him?” Wavonne asks. It’s three o’clock. The last lunch customers have just left, and we’re starting our midday closure. Gregory called this morning and asked if I’d give him my opinion on a property he’s looking at, and I’m about to leave to meet him. “Khakis and a knit shirt ain’t exactly date clothes.”

  “Forgive me, Wavonne, but I can’t very well run a restaurant in stilettos and a miniskirt. Besides, there’s no point. I told you. I’m not sure what Gregory is up to—why he was flirting with me at the reunion and kissed me the other night when he’d been having an affair with Raynell up until the night she died. Maybe he’s just playing me for some free advice about the local restaurant scene. I don’t think he’s really interested in me.”

  “Halia, you say that like a brotha can’t be interested in two women at the same time. That ain’t true. If Raynell was doin’ the freaky deeky with him and Michael . . . and, God forbid, maybe her actual husband, too, then surely Gregory could be interested in you even if he had somethin’ brewin’ with Raynell. And let me assure you, you got the leg up over Raynell in this situation—considerin’ you still have a pulse.”

  “Whatever. I’m not really interested in getting involved with someone who was fooling around with a married woman anyway.”

  “Oh blah blah whatevah. Who says you have to get involved with him anyway. For once in your life just have some fun, Halia. Ride the wave.”

  “Did you just meet me? I’m not exactly a ‘ride the wave’ type of person. The only reason I’m meeting him at all is to ask him some questions and nose around a bit . . . see if he might have had a hand in Raynell ending up in a pool of blood on her bathroom floor.” I pull my keys from my purse and sling it over my shoulder. “I’ve got to get going. I should be back before we reopen at five.”

  “Fine. Go lookin’ like that. Oh well . . . who knows . . . maybe Gregory’s into the ‘high school gym teacher’ look. Stranger stuff has happened.”

  I ignore Wavonne’s final comments before heading for the door. Evening rush hour is already starting, so traffic is heavy as I drive over to the Boulevard at the Capital Centre, an expansive shopping complex in Largo. It was built on the site that once housed the Capital Centre, an arena that, before it was torn down about fifteen years ago, was home to the Washington Bullets (now the Wizards), the Washington Capitols, and hosted all the big name concerts that came to the D.C. metro area back in the day. I think half of my high school went to see Lionel Richie there back in the eighties.

  The Boulevard started off with a bang when it opened in 2003 and brought some much needed retail outlets and restaurants to the area. Unfortunately, it all quickly went downhill thanks to several of its major tenants going out of business (anyone remember Circuit City, Linens ’n Things, Borders?), rowdy teens causing mayhem . . . and . . . well . . . three men being gunned down at the Uno Chicago Grill back in 2008 didn’t exactly help an already damaged image.

  Gregory mentioned via text that he wanted my opinion on a location he was scouting by the Magic Johnson theater, so I find a space on the east end of the parking lot and head toward a vacant storefront a few doors down from the theater.

  “Hey there,” Gregory says when I find him standing outside the property. When he leans in and gives me a hug I feel the firm contours of his chest. Suddenly, I wish I had taken Wavonne’s advice and spruced myself up a bit before meeting him.

  “Hi.” Do I really look like a high school gym teacher? “Sorry, I’m a mess. It was a busy day. But I guess I don’t need to tell you about life running a restaurant. How many do you run now? Seven?”

  “Twelve. Six in Florida, three in Georgia, one in South Carolina, and two in North Carolina. And hopefully my first location in Maryland very soon.” The proud smile on his face and jovial demeanor seem out of place for a man who just lost his mistress. Come to think of it, he didn’t seem terribly bothered or distracted by Raynell’s death when we had our date earlier in the week, either.

  “Impressive. I can barely keep up with one restaurant.”

  “From what I hear, you are keeping up just fine.” Gregory opens the door to the vacant space and gestures for me to follow him.

  I look around me at the concrete floors and unpainted drywall. “It’s a good-sized space.”

  “Yes. I’ve already got the floor plan mapped out, found a local contractor, and I’ve been doing some research on the shopping center.”

  “Research on the shopping center? So you’re aware it has a precarious history?”

  Gregory smiles. “Yes, but the landlord has really started to turn things around and is eager to attract new tenants.”

  “That’s nice to hear. I noticed when I drove in that a lot of the empty retail spaces have been filled.”

  “They’ve lured several new shops and restaurants and really improved security. I think now is a good time to get in. The owners are offering a rent abatement while I do the build out and will even chip in on some of the construction costs.”

  “That’s great. I didn’t get any such concessions when I opened Sweet Tea so many years ago. But, at the time, I didn’t really know to ask for them. Live and learn.”

  “That’s for sure. I learn so many new things with every restaurant I open. For instance, I really appreciate the big lots here. I made the mistake of opening a location just outside Atlanta with only street parking. I think the lack of convenient parking is the reason sales at that location have been soft.”

  “Yes. Easily accessible parking was a must when I opened Sweet Tea . . . and lots of street lights for safety . . . that was important, too. There’s good lighting in the lot here—that’s definitely a plus.”

  “I also love that this space is right next to the movie theater. I can really take advantage of people going to and from the movies with an appetite.”

  I turn around and give the space another look. “If the price is right, and the square footage meets your needs, maybe you really did find a great site for the next South Beach Burgers. Shall I plan to be the first in line for a Miami Deluxe in a few months?”

  “How do you know about the Miami Deluxe?”

  “A third pound of Certified Angus Beef on a brioche bun with Muenster cheese, avocado, crispy onion rings, and Russian dressing,” I say. “I gave your Web site a quick look before I came. It’s very nicely done.”

  “Thanks. I have a great designer. If you have any advice about the Web site . . . or about anything really, I’d love to hear it.”

  “I’m sure you’ve got general restaurant management down to a science at this point, but I bet I can give you pointers on all the local regs you’ll need to deal with—the permits and licenses, the signage restrictions, the buildin
g codes . . . all that jazz. I would have loved for someone with my current experience to walk me through all those hoops when I got Sweet Tea up and running. So many ridiculous rules and fees—it almost made me wonder if the county wanted any new businesses to open at all.”

  “I hear you. I think it’s all designed to make lawyers money. I have to hire a local attorney for each area that I expand into.”

  “And their services are expensive. At least it sounds like you’re getting a good deal on this place.”

  “I think I am. Raynell . . . well, Christy mostly, showed me several properties and this one really seemed to be the best of the bunch.”

  “Speaking of Raynell . . .” I’m assuming this is the best opportunity I’ll have to move the conversation toward the topic of her demise. “Are you holding up okay following her passing?”

  Gregory looks at me as if I’ve just asked him an odd question. “Sure. I’m fine. It’s very sad for her family and friends, though.”

  “Sad for her family and friends? No one else?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s not sad for you?”

  “Of course it’s sad for me, but we were not exactly close. I guess we had been working together for several weeks scouting restaurant locations, but it was really just a business arrangement.”

  I narrow my eyebrows at Gregory. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days? A business arrangement?”

  “What are you getting at, Halia?” He’s trying not to show it, but I can sense that my questions have unearthed some anxiety.

  I don’t say anything for a moment or two, but when it’s clear that he is not going to come clean I speak. “Alvetta told me about your affair with Raynell.”

  Gregory’s jaw drops. “How did Alvetta know?”

  “Those two told each other everything. They’ve been a pair of cackling hens for almost thirty years.”