Tomato Basil Murder: Book 7 in The Darling Deli Series

by Patti Benning

  The wait seemed to take hours, but in reality the vet returned in less than twenty minutes. Grimly, he told her the prognosis.

  “It appears that your dog ate some sort of poison,” he said. “We’ll have to start treatment immediately, and even then we won’t be able to guarantee that he’ll make it.”

  “Please, do whatever you can to save him,” she begged. “Whatever it takes.” The vet nodded.

  “We may need to use this room for someone else, but you’re free to make yourself comfortable in the waiting room,” he told her. “I’ll send someone out as soon as there’s a change in his condition.”

  She settled down in one of the padded chairs in the corner of the waiting room, thankful that it appeared to be a slow night at the clinic. Only one other woman was there. She kept glancing nervously from the clock to the door that led to the back of the clinic. Moira could understand how she felt. Waiting for news about Maverick was hard.

  “What kind of animal do you have?” the woman asked after a few minutes.

  “I have a dog. A German shepherd,” she told her, glad for the break in the silence. “How about you?”

  “I’ve got an Irish Wolfhound. She’s in surgery.” The woman wrung her hands nervously. “This isn’t exactly how I planned to spend my Thursday night.”

  “Me either.” Moira sighed. “I keep racking my brain, wondering how this could have happened. Somehow Maverick got a hold of poison, but I’ve never used the stuff in my life.”

  “I saw a story on the Internet the other day about people putting thing like rat poison and ground glass in pieces of meat or cheese and leaving them in dog parks,” the other woman said. “Just terrible people who want to hurt animals.”

  Moira froze, her thoughts snapping back to the hot dog. Was it possible it had been poisoned?

  “Do you know if they’ll be able to do anything to help him?” she asked the woman.

  “It depends on how much he ate, and how long ago he ate it,” the woman said gently. “I know the vet who’s on call tonight, and I’m sure he’ll do everything he can to help your dog.”

  “You must come here a lot, then,” Moira said, trying to distract herself from thoughts of Maverick. Worrying wouldn’t do any good. She had to calm down and think straight if she wanted to be of any help to her dog.

  “Sadly, yes. I rescue dogs, and sometimes they’re in pretty bad condition,” the woman said. “My name is Tamara, by the way. Tamara Hodges.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Moira said, reaching over to shake the other woman’s hand. “I’m Moira Darling.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Moira.” Tamara sighed, her eyes darting towards the clock again. “Sorry, I just can’t help wondering what’s taking so long.”

  “What sort of surgery is your dog having?” the deli owner asked.

  “She swallowed a big piece of one of her toys, and instead of passing through, it formed a blockage. The poor girl was miserable, and couldn’t eat or drink. I had to bring her in,” the other woman said. “I know she’s in good hands, but I can’t stop worrying about her.”

  “I hope she pulls through okay,” Moira said. “It would be wonderful if both of us left here with happy, healthy dogs.”

  They fell silent after a few more minutes, both of them lost in their own thoughts. It was late, and her busy day was catching up with her. Moira yawned and felt herself slipping farther and farther into sleep. When the door on the far side of the room finally opened, she snapped awake with a start. The vet tech walked through leading the tallest dog that Moira had ever seen.

  The wolfhound had wiry grey hair and soft brown eyes, and her belly was shaved. She stumbled next to the vet, but her eyes lit up when she saw her owner. Moira smiled as she watched the reunion. It was obvious that Tamara loved her dog, and the feeling was returned.

  After she settled the bill, Tamara turned back to Moira. “Here,” she said, wiping happy tears out of her eyes. “This is my number. If you ever want to get together for coffee to talk about dogs—or anything—feel free to give me a call. Not every pet owner would rush out in the middle of the night to take their animal to an emergency vet, and we responsible owners have to stick together.”

  “Thanks,” Moira said with a smile as she took the other woman’s business card and offered her own in return. “I’m glad your girl is okay.”

  “I hope everything turns out well for you and your pooch too.” Tamara waved a quick goodbye, then guided her still woozy dog out the door, leaving Moira alone in the waiting room.

  It wasn’t much longer before the vet came back and beckoned her over. He looked tired, but his face wasn’t as grim as before. He gave her a reassuring smile as she approached.

  “Well, we’re out of the woods. Maverick is still a little bit out of it, and may have some lasting effects from the poison for a few days, but he should be all right.”

  “Oh my goodness, thank you so much.” She felt as if a huge weight had been taken off her chest. She might not have had the dog long, but he had quickly become a huge part of her life. She couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to come home and not hear his nails clicking on the floor as he rushed to greet her.

  “Come on in the back, and you can sit with him until he’s feeling good enough to walk. Then I’ll help you load him back into your car, and hopefully all of us can get some sleep before sunrise,” the vet said.

  Less than two hours later she was pulling into the apartment complex, exhausted but glad that the emergency had been averted. The vet bill had been hefty, but every penny was worth it. She glanced into the rearview mirror and was glad to see Maverick resting, but focusing on her and wagging his tail.

  “Come on, boy, let’s get inside,” she said, shutting off her engine. She helped the wobbly dog out of the car and led him inside, plumping his dog bed and stroking his head before going back outside armed with a flashlight.

  It only took her a few minutes to find what she was looking for: the other half of the hot dog. She picked it up and tore it in half, not surprised to see a dull green powder inside. Feeling sick to her stomach, she spent a few more minutes looking around for any other hot dog pieces, then brought what she had inside and put it in a plastic baggie. After washing her hands thoroughly, she sat on the couch and stared at the evidence. Someone had poisoned Maverick. The only question left was why.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Early morning sunlight streamed through the windows in Moira’s kitchen, and her coffee maker gurgled away. The horror of the night before was almost surreal, and she would have imagined it was a dream if the poisoned hot dog hadn’t still been waiting for her in its little baggie. Today would be busy, but the first thing she needed to do was arrange for someone to keep Maverick company while she was gone during the day.

  ***

  “Poor boy,” Candice said, scratching behind the dog’s ears. Maverick pressed his head against her, his mouth open in a doggy grin and his tongue lolling out as he enjoyed the attention.

  “You’re sure it won’t be any trouble for you to watch him today?” Moira asked her daughter. “I don’t want to leave him alone yet, but I need to go talk to David, then work at the deli. Darrin and Dante are both out of town this evening, and I don’t want Meg to have to work alone.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Mom. I’ll just hang out and watch movies here. It won’t be any trouble at all. I’m just glad he’s okay. Sorry I didn’t get your message until this morning.”

  “That’s fine, sweetie. I’m glad you didn’t see it right away; the only thing you could have done last night was to worry. We managed just fine on our own.” She bent over one last time to hug her dog, then straightened up. “All right, I should get going. The number to the local vet is on the fridge; don’t hesitate to call if he seems to be acting weird. I’ll keep my phone on all day too, so you can get in touch with me if something happens.”

  With one last glance back at her daughter and Maverick, Moira left. She double-check
ed to make sure that the baggie with the poisoned hot dog was in her purse, then started her car. Her first destination of the day was Lake Marion, to see if David might be able to help her track down the person that had poisoned her dog.

  She pulled into the parking lot adjacent to the private investigator’s office and went inside. David greeted her with a hug.

  “I’m glad he’s okay,” he said. “What can I do to help?”

  “I want to find out who left the poison for him,” she said, taking the baggie with the deadly hot dog in it out of her purse and setting it on the table. “Do you have any ideas?”

  “Do you think the poison was meant for him specifically, or just for any dog who happened to find it?” he asked. “Could it have been meant for another dog in your apartment complex, maybe one with a barking problem?”

  “It was right outside my door,” she said. “The only other dog in my building is a little white fluff-ball that only barks if someone knocks on her owner’s door.”

  “So you do think it was personal?”

  “It seems that way.” She sighed. “I don’t know why anyone would want to hurt him though. He’s quiet, and he’s very friendly. Everyone in the building knows who he is and will come over to pet him when they see us outside.”

  “Maybe whoever left the poison wasn’t targeting Maverick to hurt him, but because they wanted to hurt you through him,” David suggested.

  Moira fell silent, letting his words sink in. Was it possible that her dog had really been hurt thanks to something that she had done to make someone else angry? She immediately thought of her investigation into Mike’s death. Had she gotten too close to the truth for comfort? She tried to think about who all knew that she and David were investigating. Candice did, of course, and her employees… including Allison. She felt the blood drain from her face. Had her newest employee tried to kill her dog?

  “What is it?” David asked.

  “I think I might have an idea about who did it,” she said. “I need to make a call.” He nodded and stepped away to give her privacy. Moira grabbed her cell phone, thankful that she had already added Allison’s phone number to her contact list.

  “Hello?” came the young woman’s voice after a few rings.

  “Hi Allison, this is Moira Darling, from the deli,” she said. “Can you meet me there in about an hour? I thought we might get started on some training early.” She felt bad about lying, but if the girl was guilty, Moira didn’t want to tip her off that she suspected something.

  “Oh, sorry Ms. Darling, but I can’t. I’m at Cedar Point in Ohio with some friends. But don’t worry, I’ll be back by Monday.”

  “Oh.” Moira paused, not sure what to think. Was it possible the girl was lying? Or if she was telling the truth, could she have set the poison out before leaving on her trip? She decided that another lie on her part might be the only way to find out. “How far away is it from Maple Creek? Candice has been talking about taking a trip there before the weather gets bad.”

  “It’s just under a seven-hour drive. My friends and I left early Thursday morning, and we got there in time to hit a few rides before setting up in the hotel room. It’s definitely worth it if you like roller coasters. Hang on, and I’ll send you a picture once we hang up. Sorry again that I couldn’t make it today.”

  Moments after she hung up, her phone buzzed and a picture of Allison and a few other girls screaming on a roller coaster came up on the screen, along with a text message.

  Tell your daughter that my friends and I are planning on going again around Halloween, and she’s welcome to come with us!

  It seemed like the young woman was telling the truth about her trip. Moira sighed with disappointment, then chuckled at her own reaction. She should be glad that her new employee wasn’t a murderer, not disappointed because it meant the real one was still out there somewhere.

  ***

  “Hey, Ms. D. Candice told me what happened to your dog. I’m glad he’s okay,” Meg said when Moira walked into the deli a few hours later.

  “Thanks,” she responded. “I hope I can find out who’s responsible. Watching him be so sick was just horrible.”

  “Did you tell the police yet? They might be able to help. Or maybe offer a reward if someone turns the guilty person in,” the young woman suggested. “When I was a kid, someone shot my mom’s cat. She offered a three-hundred-dollar reward for evidence leading to the person who shot him, and the next day the guy’s cousin turned him in.”

  “That’s a great idea, Meg,” Moira said, impressed. “I’ll have to see what I can afford, but it would definitely be worth it to find the person responsible.”

  For the first few hours, an endless line of customers kept both women on their toes. Moira chatted with her customers as she rang them up, giving directions to the best beaches and recommending the ice cream parlor down the street to families that had children. She also did her best to suggest the Redwood Grill whenever she could. It felt good to know she was helping out her fellow local business owners, and it was nice to relax and enjoy the day, knowing that Maverick and Candice were safe together at her apartment.

  Around three in the afternoon the lunch rush petered out, and Moira knew from experience that the lull would last until around five. She did a quick sweep around the deli to make sure the floor was clean and everything was straightened, then pulled out her tablet and began once again to study the video of the young man who was wearing the gold watch. With Allison cleared as a suspect, this boy and the watch were the only clue that she had about what might have happened to Mike.

  “What’s that?” Meg asked, curious, as she passed behind Moira on her way to clean the bathroom.

  “It’s footage I have of a guy that came into the deli last week wearing a watch that’s identical to one that Mike had,” she told her employee. “It’s the only lead I have, but he doesn’t look at the camera once and he paid with cash, so I can’t think of a way to track him.”

  “Let me see.” Meg leaned closer to the screen. Her eyes widened when she saw herself in the video. “I remember him,” she said. “He flirted with me a little bit while you were in the back.”

  “What’s his name?” Moira asked eagerly. Could it really be this easy? She mentally kicked herself for not asking Meg about him before.

  “I don’t remember… Ben, or Benny, or something like that, I think. But I’ve seen him around town. He did the lawn care last summer at the retirement center where my grandfather lives.” Meg blushed. “He always said hi to me, even then.”

  The deli owner stared at her, amazed that she hadn’t made the connection on her own. She had seen the young man before – he had been the one trimming the bushes at the stone house when she had gone to look at it with Madeline Frau. Even more importantly, she remembered seeing his truck outside the hotel as well. If he does the landscaping for them, too, then that puts him in the right place to have murdered Mike.

  Her hand shaking, Moira picked up her cell phone. She had two calls to make. With any luck at all, within just a few minutes, she would be well on the way to finding the man who had killed her ex-husband.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  She let her car idle outside of the duplex, double-checking the address against what the real estate agent had given her. This is it, she thought. This is where he lives.

  A few hours ago, she had called the hotel to ask them what landscaping service they used, in the guise of wanting to hire the same people herself. The young man at the desk had confirmed her suspicion by naming the Maple Creek Landscaping and Yard Care company. He had told her that there were a few different guys that worked for the company, and he would have to ask his boss which one was in charge of the hotel’s landscaping. Thanking him, she hung up and dialed a different number.

  Her next call had been to Madeline Frau, who had been more than happy to supply her with Benjamin Hall’s full name, his personal number, and even his address when Moira had mentioned how pleased she had been with the lands
caping at the stone house.

  “I’d love to ask him if he would continue with the work after I buy the house,” she’d said, trying to sound more confident than she had felt. Luckily, Madeline was too excited by the prospect of a sale to question why Moira needed his personal number.

  The only problem was, Moira wanted to be completely sure it was the right house before calling the police, and she also wanted to get another glance at that watch if she could get it. If the police responded to her call and it was the wrong person, or a different model of watch than the one Mike had, then they would laugh in her face—or, even worse, view her actions as further proof that she must be guilty. Even if I manage to get another look at this kid’s watch, it may not be enough evidence for the police to be able to do anything, she thought. Plenty of people wore watches, and while the thought of someone who looked to be barely out of high school owning an expensive gold watch like Mike’s in this neighborhood seemed absurd, it probably wouldn’t be enough to convince the police he was guilty.

  “I need something else,” she said to herself. “Just one more piece of evidence before I make the call.” With any luck, she would get that evidence sooner rather than later; she didn’t want David or Candice to find out what she was doing, though she had sent David a text explaining her theory. She knew neither of them would think it was a good idea for her to stake out the duplex on her own.

  It was well past dark by the time someone came out of the duplex. Moira tensed, squinting as she tried to recognize the person under the porch light. It wasn’t him. She sighed. Was it possible that Madeline had given her the wrong address? Or had she punched it into her GPS wrong? There was no white truck in the driveway, but it was very possible that it was parked in the garage. Just a little bit longer, she thought with a sigh.

  Rapping at the driver’s side window made her jump. She turned and saw David standing there, his eyebrows raised. Blushing, Moira rolled down the window.