TABLE OF CONTENTS
FOUR CHEESE MURDER
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Four Cheese
Murder
Book Seven
in
Papa Pacelli’s
Pizzeria Series
By
Patti Benning
Copyright 2017 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.
**This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.
Author’s Note: On the next page, you’ll find out how to access all of my books easily, as well as locate books by best-selling author, Summer Prescott. I’d love to hear your thoughts on my books, the storylines, and anything else that you’d like to comment on – reader feedback is very important to me. Please see the following page for my publisher’s contact information. If you’d like to be on her list of “folks to contact” with updates, release and sales notifications, etc…just shoot her an email and let her know. Thanks for reading!
Also…
…if you’re looking for more great reads, from me and Summer, check out the Summer Prescott Publishing Book Catalog:
http://summerprescottbooks.com/book-catalog/ for some truly delicious stories.
Contact Info for Summer Prescott Publishing:
Twitter: @summerprescott1
Blog and Book Catalog: http://summerprescottbooks.com
Email: [email protected]
And…look up The Summer Prescott Fan Page on Facebook – let’s be friends!
If you’re an author and are interested in publishing with Summer Prescott Books – please send Summer an email and she’ll send you submission guidelines.
FOUR CHEESE
MURDER
Book Seven in Papa Pacelli’s Pizzeria Series
CHAPTER ONE
* * *
“Thanks for choosing Papa Pacelli’s. Have a nice day!”
Eleanora Pacelli waved at the customer as she drove away, then pulled the drive-up window shut. It was cold outside, the sort of cold that made her skin hurt and the breath catch in her lungs. She was surprised that the pizzeria was as busy as they had been today. She supposed a lot of that had to do with the fact that her customers no longer had to get out of the car to pick up a pizza, now that the drive-up window was installed. It certainly did make handing off orders easier and quicker, though she could have done without the blast of cold air through the kitchen whenever the window was opened.
She was ready for winter to be over and done with. With the holidays already past, there seemed to be nothing to look forward to but months of cold, dreary weather. She wanted to be able to go outside without wearing what felt like a hundred layers. She wanted to be able to lay in the sun on her family’s boat again, and go on long walks with her dog without slipping on ice and stumbling through snow drifts.
I love Kittiport, she thought. I just hate Kittiport in winter. Overall, she was still tremendously glad that she had made the decision to move to Maine after her old life in Chicago imploded. She was getting to know her grandmother, a woman that she had barely seen since she was a teenager; and had somehow ended up first managing, and now owning the family restaurant. Not only that, but she had begun a relationship with an amazing man.
Russell Ward was the sheriff of Kittiport. His job kept him busy, but she didn’t mind. She knew how much he cared about the citizens that he protected, and she admired that about him greatly. Of course, dating the sheriff in a small town meant that more than a few people knew about their relationship, and she wasn’t sure whether she was better known as the lady who owned the pizza place, or the lady who was dating Sheriff Ward.
Papa Pacelli’s was famous enough in its own right. The business was over twenty years old, and was a favorite place to eat for people of all ages. The pizza they served was the best she had ever had, and she wasn’t just saying that because she made them. They offered everything from proper deep dish to the weird thin crust so inexplicably beloved by easterners, and had even started serving calzones a few months back. The pizzeria kept a stock of all of the normal toppings, but also had a special pizza of the week that often had more exotic toppings or unusual combinations.
Ellie was proud to be part of the business that her grandfather had started. He was no longer here to see it, but she was sure he would approve of what she had done with the place. Her grandmother sure seemed to. Ann Pacelli, now almost fully recovered from the broken arm she had received a few months before, had begun coming in to help out around the pizzeria once or twice a week. She spent most of her time out front, ringing people up or just chatting with the customers, and had become something of a mascot around the place. Ellie worried about her constantly—the older woman seemed convinced that she could do anything someone half her age could do, and acted accordingly—but she was also glad that her grandmother was still so active. Besides, everyone loved her.
“Hey Ms. Pacelli,” Jacob, her delivery driver, said as he came in through the employee entrance. He was wearing a parka zipped up to his throat and a warm hat. Ellie felt for him, having to go out in the cold to make deliveries, but he promised that he didn’t mind it. People tended to give better tips when the weather was bad, so she believed him.
“Hi Jacob,” she said. “The next order isn’t quite ready yet. You should warm up and get something to eat. Do you want a calzone?”
“Sure,” he said. “Thanks.”
Her employees always ate free. It was a policy that her grandfather had implemented since his first day of business, and Ellie planned to keep it in place for as long as she was in charge. Papa Pacelli’s depended on its employees to be hardworking and reliable. Offering them free meals was the least she could do to show her gratitude.
Just as the calzone was about to come out of the oven, another one of her employees came in. She shut the door quickly behind her and pulled down her hood to reveal a head of bushy brown hair.
“Sorry I’m late,” Clara said, shaking the snow off of her gloves before pulling them off. “I stopped by the community center on my way over, and got lost in conversation with one of the women volunteering there.”
“You’re fine,” Ellie said. “According to this clock, you’re on time, and it’s the one that counts.” The kitchen clock was slow, something that she had been meaning to fix for a while but had never gotten around to. “What’s going on at the community center?”
“A group of volunteers is hosting a drive to collect blankets, food, hats, gloves, and scarves for people who need help,” the young woman said. “I had a bunch of old winter stuff that I decided to donate.”
“Do they need more? The pizzeria could donate some pizzas, and I know my grandmother has boxes and boxes of old clothing and blankets that no one ever uses.”
“Definitely. A lot of
people lost power during the storm the other night. I think they can use all the help they can get.”
“I’ll stop there on my way home and talk to someone. Who should I ask for when I get there?”
“Oh, any of the volunteers could help you,” Clara said. “I think some guy named Ronald is in charge of the programs there, but if he isn’t in you can just talk to whoever’s around.”
It will feel good to give back to the community, Ellie thought as she pulled her coat on an hour later and prepared to leave for the day. She had already double-checked the hours that the community center was open, and she had plenty of time. Kittiport was an amazing town, and she was happy to find a way to say thank you.
CHAPTER TWO
* * *
Ellie left the community center that evening with a sense of purpose. The man she had spoken to had been a little bit odd and distant at first, but when he heard she wanted to donate not just old blankets, but food, he had warmed right up. She had gone on a tour of the building, which was currently acting as a sort of impromptu soup kitchen and shelter for those who had nowhere warm to stay during the cold weather. She hadn’t realized just how many people had been affected by the extreme cold, and felt bad for not doing anything sooner.
She and her grandmother must have gotten luckier than they knew during the storm that had blown through town a few days ago. Their power had hardly even flickered, though even if it had gone out, they would have been able to use the fireplace to keep warm. The large house was a few miles outside of town, sandwiched between the coast and the forest of a large state park. Ellie, who had grown up in Chicago, wasn’t used to having so much wilderness literally in her back yard. She had felt isolated at first, but was beginning to enjoy the peace and quiet that the big house offered.
“Nonna, I’m home,” she called as she let herself in the front door.
The sound of tiny claws clacking on the hard floor announced the presence of Bunny, her little black and white Papillon. Ellie crouched down just as the dog rounded the corner and caught the bundle of fur in her arms.
“Hey, now, I missed you too,” she said, trying to get the dog to calm down. “I’ll never understand why you act like this every time I come home. I know for a fact Nonna sneaks you food while I’m not here; you should be happy to see me leave for work in the mornings.”
“Oh, she is,” Nonna said, following the dog much more slowly into the foyer. “After she does her little bit with you and watches you leave, she comes trotting right into the kitchen and plants herself by the pantry. She knows she gets a morning treat while I drink my coffee. If I forget, she gives me the same pitiful look she gives you when you’re putting on your boots. She knows we’re putty in her little paws if she can make us feel bad enough for her.”
“I never knew that,” Ellie said, laughing. “She sure is spoiled. I’m glad she’s such a happy little dog.”
“She’s quite the character,” Nonna said with a smile. “How is everything going at the pizzeria? Have you started serving that grain-free pizza yet?”
“It’s gluten free, Nonna, and no, I’m waiting on the new menus to come in.”
“I still don’t quite understand the point of it, but I’m glad you’re keeping up with the times. Everyone at physical therapy was thrilled to learn that my granddaughter was the owner of Papa Pacelli’s. You should come sometime.”
After getting her cast off, Nonna had been assigned to a month of physical therapy to help retrain the muscles in her arm. Ellie was still shaken by the entire experience—a broken bone was no small thing at her grandmother’s age. The older woman seemed to be taking everything in good humor, though. She enjoyed any excuse to get out of the house, even if that meant spending a grueling forty minutes doing stretches and lifting weights under the practiced eye of a physical therapist.
“You make it sound like I’m some sort of celebrity,” Ellie said with a smile. “There are a lot of small business owners around here. Besides, Papa’s the one that deserves all of the credit.”
“Oh, you know you’ve done a lot for the pizzeria, Ellie. People can see the difference, and they like it. Such a popular restaurant is good for the entire town.”
The pizzeria owner decided to change the subject. She didn’t feel that she deserved the credit her grandmother was trying to give her. “Speaking of being good for the entire town, there’s a winter clothes and food drive going on at the community center that I thought the pizzeria could get involved in. We could donate some of the old clothes and blankets in the basement, and I can donate a few pizzas. What do you think?”
“That’s a wonderful idea. Art used to donate to some of the charity drives,” Nonna said. She narrowed her eyes. “In fact, I think a couple of the boxes in the basement might have items he planned to donate and never got around to actually bringing in. I’m glad you brought it up, or I never would have remembered. I’m sure he’d be happy to see the donations go to charity at last.”
“I’ll dig through the boxes and bring up any of the ones that look promising,” Ellie said. “But first I want to say hi to Marlowe and grab a snack.”
Marlowe was a green-winged macaw that her grandfather had bought when he retired. The parrot was one of the most complicated pets Ellie had ever known. Not only was she temperamental at times, but she could talk, and didn’t hesitate to make her desires known. Caring for the bird was much different than caring for Bunny. The little dog might find her way into trouble sometimes, but at least she didn’t have a beak that was strong enough to break bones and tear through a wall.
The big red parrot greeted her with an exuberant “Hi!” when she saw her. Ellie reached into the basket that they kept stored under the cage and grabbed an almond, still in its in shell. She opened the cage and Marlowe climbed out on top, keeping an eager eye on the almond.
“This is for you,” Ellie said. “Can you say please?”
The bird looked at her.
“Come on, say please.”
“Thank you!” Marlowe squawked.
Ellie laughed. “Close enough.” She handed the almond over and watched as the bird effortlessly cracked the shell to get to the nut inside. She was still a little bit afraid of that beak, but overall, she was pleased at how well her relationship with Marlowe was doing. When she had first moved back, the bird hadn’t wanted anything to do with her.
After watching the parrot eat her treat, she whistled to Bunny to follow her and headed down the basement stairs. Going through the boxes down there would be a time-consuming task, but at least it would be an interesting one. Her grandparents had lived in this house for decades, and some of the stuff down there was probably almost as old as she was.
CHAPTER THREE
* * *
The next day, Ellie left for work early, having stuffed two big boxes of winter clothes and blankets into the back of her car. There were even more boxes full of items for donation waiting in the foyer at home—she just hadn’t been able to fit everything in her car at once. Between these first two boxes and the pizzas she was planning to make and bring over before the pizzeria opened, the community center should be set for a few days at least.
It was another icy cold day with grey clouds hanging low over the marina. She looked out to sea as she drove into town and wondered if another storm was brewing. It had been an odd winter, with the temperature changing drastically over the span of just a few days. In the last two weeks alone they had had rain, sleet, and snow. She hoped there would be another thaw soon, but if the weather changed again shortly after, that might just serve to make the roads and sidewalks even more icy and dangerous. She didn’t know how much more winter this poor little town could take.
After parking her car in the lot behind the pizzeria, she locked the vehicle and let herself in the employee entrance. The pizzeria always felt so peaceful when she was the only one there, and today was no exception. There was something that Ellie loved about the restaurant when it was dark and quiet and empty, something she
couldn’t put into words. It was like watching a favorite pet sleep.
“Time to wake up,” she said aloud as she reached for the light switch. The overhead lights flickered to life. It would be a few hours until Papa Pacelli’s opened for business so she didn’t bother turning on any of the lights in the front room. She just wanted to whip up a few pizzas to donate before the real work day started.
She turned on the ovens and opened the dough fridge. She peered at the neatly arranged balls of dough for a moment, trying to decide what to make. Thin crust or deep dish? What toppings? She didn’t want to do anything too boring, but she also didn’t want to risk putting any unpopular toppings on. She decided to make a few different types, and people could choose what they wanted. Four cheese, deep dish, veggies with white sauce, and classic pepperoni… with a variety like that, everyone was sure to find something they liked.
Making pizzas was something Ellie simply enjoyed. Even if the pizzeria burned down tomorrow and they never rebuilt, she thought she would still probably make pizza for herself and Nonna a couple of times a week. Her grandfather’s original dough recipe was what really made the pizzas from Papa Pacelli’s stand out, though she was sure their practice of using only high-quality, natural and—when possible—local ingredients made a difference too. She liked to think that even if there were more competition in the area, Papa Pacelli’s would be able to hold its own with no problem.
She didn’t skimp out on the pizzas she was making to donate. They wouldn’t be making any money off of them, but that was no reason to bake substandard pies. Besides, anyone who was taking advantage of the food drive could probably use a good quality meal. By the time Clara and Rose arrived to start their shift, Ellie had a stack of ten large pizzas ready and waiting on the counter.
Four Cheese Murder: Book Seven in Papa Pacelli's Pizzeria Series Page 1
