Daisy McDare And The Deadly Restaurant Affair (Cozy Mystery) (Daisy McDare Cozy Creek Mystery Book 6)

by K. M. Morgan

  “So you’re saying all the suspects are smokers?”

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  “This is getting more interesting by the minute. One more question. Do you know anyone by the name of Crystal Pellington?”

  Trevor thought it over, then shook his head. “Sorry. That name doesn’t ring a bell. Why?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I won’t. I have plenty of other things to worry about.”

  “Thanks for your help. Now go relax and have a cupcake,” Daisy suggested.

  Trevor shook his head. “You and Samantha with your cupcakes.”

  “What do you have against cupcakes?”

  “Nothing. I’m just a sucker for Samantha’s double chocolate cake. Then again, Samantha can really do no wrong,” Trevor said.

  What a sweet thing to say. “Have you told her that?”

  “I will. Anyway, good luck on the case.”

  Daisy exhaled. “Thanks. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Even though Daisy had Detective Crumple on her side with this investigation, that didn’t mean she was about to abandon the most reliable—not to mention handsome—private investigator in town. She’d been meaning to call her boyfriend Gavin to thank him for the wonderful date last night anyway. Only now, the conversation was sure to take on a different slant.

  “Another decorating job gone bad, eh?” Gavin asked, over the phone.

  “How did you know that?” Daisy replied, into the phone.

  “I’m a private investigator. It’s my job to find things out.”

  “Of course.”

  “Not to mention Cozy Creek is a small town. You have a better chance of winning the lottery than you do of keeping a secret amongst the locals.”

  Daisy laughed, knowing all too well how many busybodies there were in town.

  “That reminds me. I didn’t get a lotto ticket last night. It could have been my lucky night.”

  “Here I thought you did have a good night,” Gavin said.

  “I did honey. You know I always have a great time with you. I meant I could have won the lotto jackpot.”

  Gavin laughed. “You’re never going to give up on that, are you?”

  Gavin had a different view on playing the lottery, a more practical one. He always turned to the obvious argument—that getting all six numbers wasn’t just a million to one proposition. Rather the odds were actually seventeen million to one.

  Daisy never tried to dispute that she had a better chance of getting struck by lightning than she did of winning the jackpot. To her, that was beside the point. It was easy to naysay and play the devil’s advocate.

  In the end, what mattered most to Daisy was that there was a chance to win, however slight. It was improbably sure, but not impossible. That was an important distinction to her. As long as there was a chance, anything could happen. Because sometimes, it did.

  “Hey, you can’t win if you don’t play,” Daisy said.

  “Do you have any idea how long the odds are of winning?”

  “You keep reminding me of that. Now it’s my turn to remind you of something. Despite the odds, people still win every once in a while.”

  “Blind luck,” Gavin answered.

  “That, and perseverance. You’d be amazed what you can do when you don’t give up. When you keep trying. Like finding the love of your life,” Daisy explained.

  “In a way, I’ve already won a different kind of lottery. When I met you, I hit the jackpot.”

  “That’s sweet. I’m going to keep buying lottery tickets though.”

  “I just can’t change your mind, can I?” Gavin wondered.

  “I have a better idea of what you can do with your time,” Daisy suggested.

  “Such as?” Gavin asked.

  “I need your help with this case.”

  “I had a feeling that was coming.”

  “You’re not too busy, are you?”

  “I’m never too busy to help you out.”

  “Do you ever run out of sweet talk?”

  “I haven’t yet.”

  “Let’s keep it that way,” Daisy suggested.

  “My pleasure,” Gavin replied.

  Daisy smiled.

  “So, do you have any names for me?” Gavin added.

  Daisy went through the list of suspects with him.

  First, there was Adam’s wife Sasha Dunning. She had plenty of reason to hate Adam, and a lot to gain with him dead. Her motive was clear—his cheating. Not to mention murder was often a crime of passion.

  With Adam dead, Sasha would stand to inherit the business, the family mansion, and various other financial assets.

  That was followed by Adam’s daughter Emily Dunning. She had a dual motive. She was burned by the fact that her father didn’t believe in her enough to ever turn the business over to her. Even worse, Emily had put the rest of her life on hold. She’d pushed aside her urge to start a family and poured her attention into the restaurant only to have nothing to show for it. If that wasn’t bad enough, her father had snubbed her boyfriend Logan Walsh of the head chef position.

  Of course there was Cameron O’Doul, the former assistant manager at Tres chic, and current owner of Ooh La Lunch. Cameron had hated Adam Dunning for years. He felt slighted and wanted to get revenge ever since. Trying to put Tres Chic out of business was one thing. There was no better revenge than having Adam completely out of the picture.

  Benjamin Kotter had a score to settle with Adam Dunning too. Ben had years of built up resentment as Adam’s underappreciated sous chef. When Benjamin became the head chef at Ooh La Lunch, he though he wouldn’t have to deal with Adam Dunning anymore. Then Adam slapped him with a lawsuit. Being sued by a vengeful old boss was enough to throw anyone over the edge.

  Not to be outdone was Adam’s mistress Jessica Mitchell. She put both her heart and marriage on the line for Adam—only to come up empty-handed. It was one thing to cheat on her husband. It was another to leave her husband for Adam because she’d fallen in love with him. Only, Adam didn’t feel the same way about her. Adam cared more about the money he’d lose in divorce court than being with Jessica. A heartbroken woman was a dangerous one, especially one who’s given up everything.

  Next was Carl Blanton, the recently fired bartender. Carl had been caught stealing, but blamed Adam for his thievery. He was bitter about being underpaid—to the point where he was on the verge of being evicted. Now that he’d been fired, he was in more dire financial straits than ever. A man at the end of his hope was capable of some crazy things, but just how crazy?

  Finally there Logan Walsh, the longtime sous chef at Tres Chic. He’d been clamoring to be named head chef. He’d put in the time and stayed at Tres Chic when others left for Ooh La Lunch. Yet the loyalty didn’t pay off for him. Adam went and hired a cook from another restaurant to be the new head chef at Tres Chic. Even worse, Adam told him he’d never be more than a sous chef. If that wasn’t enough, his girlfriend Emily Dunning was stuck running in place professionally as well. That was a volatile combination.

  That wasn’t all. There was a new twist to this case. Her name was Crystal Pellington. Daisy didn’t know anything about her, but she was pretty sure the killer did.

  After Daisy told Gavin about the suspects, he only had one response.

  “I can see you’re making it easy for me this time, eh?” Gavin joked.

  Daisy got playful. “Yeah. This should be a breeze.”

  “I’ll get right on it,” Gavin insisted.

  “You’re the best,” Daisy replied.

  Chapter Twenty

  Just as Daisy approached Sudsy Scott’s, an interesting scene was developing between two highly unlikely people. Benjamin Kotter, the head chef at Ooh La Lunch, exited Sudsy Scott’s wearing his chef uniform. He was followed closely behind by Adam Dunning’s mistress Jessica Mitchell. Things looked heated between them. To the point that they lost track of their surroundings.


  Daisy stepped back and watched the drama unfold on the sidewalk.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself,” Jessica said.

  “Have you looked in the mirror lately? You were the one sleeping with him,” Benjamin replied.

  “At least I didn’t kill him.”

  Benjamin stopped dead in his tracks. He then turned around and gave Jessica a vicious glare. “You have a lot of nerve.”

  “And you have a lot of rage for someone who claims they are innocent,” Jessica countered.

  “I am innocent,” Benjamin declared.

  “I don’t believe that. I do believe you’re a little too tipsy for your own good right now though.”

  “I wanted to take the edge off. It’s been a stressful…you know what? I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

  “No, because I already know you did it,” Jessica said.

  Benjamin lost it. “You don’t know anything. You have no proof. Not to mention no right to talk to me that way.”

  “I know more than you think. Adam used to talk about you. How no one else would take a chance on you. How he was the one to give you a shot as a head chef, only to have you betray him by going to Ooh La Lunch. He never got over that. He couldn’t believe you’d stab him in the back like that. Then you went and literally stabbed him in the back.”

  “Stop right there.”

  “What’s the matter? Did I touch a nerve?”

  Benjamin tried to change the subject. “How do I know you didn’t do it?”

  “I loved him,” Jessica said.

  “Exactly. You were in love with a married man. That never ends well.”

  “Stop trying to deflect. The truth is going to come out sooner or later. Just admit you did it you scumbag.”

  Benjamin narrowed his eyes. “Lay off me. I’m warning you.”

  Jessica provoked him. “Warning me? Or what, you’ll kill me too?”

  Benjamin gave her a death stare, then whirled around. “I have to get to work.”

  Benjamin then stormed off.

  Jessica meanwhile stomped off to her car in the parking lot.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Benjamin Kotter was a little too worked up to be probed with the kind of questions Daisy needed to ask him. It was risky enough to poke a sleeping bear. No one would be foolish enough to prod a grumpy bear. Metaphors aside, Benjamin would have to wait until later.

  Daisy instead had her eyes on Jessica Mitchell. Jessica was worked up too, but she had also laid the perfect groundwork for Daisy without even realizing it. Daisy stopped Jessica in the parking lot before she had a chance to get to her car.

  “Jessica,” Daisy said.

  Jessica turned around and gave Daisy the once over.

  Jessica had a confused look on her face. “Yes.”

  “I just happen to overhear the conversation you had with Benjamin Kotter--” Daisy replied.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  Daisy wanted to see if she could get Jessica to play into her hand.

  “Maybe not, but I think you might be right about Benjamin,” Daisy said.

  Jessica looked both relieved and surprised to hear that. “You—you do?”

  Daisy had her almost right where she wanted her. “Oh yeah. He looks so guilty. First of all, Adam was killed with a kitchen knife, and Benjamin works in a kitchen. Second, Adam felt like Benjamin had stabbed him in the back by going over to Ooh La Lunch. Then Adam is killed by actually being stabbed in the back.”

  “Exactly. It all adds up. Benjamin is so obviously the killer.”

  “He’s obvious alright. Maybe a little too obvious even,” Daisy said.

  “Wait. What are you talking about? How can someone be too obvious?”

  “Killers don’t tend to make things that easy for the police. If Benjamin really is the killer, he’d have been wiser to use poison—or a gun. The fact that the murder weapon is a knife makes me think someone is trying to frame Benjamin.”

  Jessica did an about face. “Hey, I thought you were on my side.”

  “A smart killer tries to draw the attention away from them, and put the spotlight on someone else.”

  “Well, maybe the killer isn’t so smart.”

  “I doubt that. Now you’ve been pushing Benjamin pretty hard as the killer,” Daisy said.

  “That’s because he is,” Jessica insisted.

  “Do you have any proof of that?”

  Jessica stammered. “Sometimes you just know.”

  “And sometimes you just want to push the blame on someone else. In a case like this, the mistress is an obvious suspect.”

  That put Jessica on her heels. “Being an obvious suspect and being guilty are much different things.”

  “It’s funny you should say that, considering you were trying to nail Benjamin Kotter with that logic.”

  “That’s different,” Jessica insisted.

  “How?” Daisy asked.

  Jessica got tongue-tied.

  “The question is, where were you really last night?” Daisy continued.

  Jessica became angry. “No. The question is, who do you think you are?”

  Daisy pressed on. “I’m someone trying to figure out what a supposedly squeaky clean real estate agent would be doing at a dive bar like Sudsy Scott’s.”

  “I don’t have to talk to you.”

  Daisy was far from done. “Does you being here have something to do with Crystal Pellington?”

  Sometimes a person’s body language said more than their mouth did. Even if the reaction was slight, Daisy could usually pick up on it. She watched Jessica’s face closely as she asked the question.

  Jessica got a brief look of panic in her eyes. She put on a stone face to cover it up, but by then Daisy had already caught her freaking out briefly internally.

  “I don’t know who that is,” Jessica said.

  Jessica’s pupils dilated as she answered, the first sign of a lie.

  “Are you sure?” Daisy asked.

  Jessica changed the subject. “Who are you?”

  “I’m a friend of Detective Crumple.”

  “I already answered his questions.”

  “I know, but you didn’t answer mine.”

  Jessica couldn’t wait to put an end to the conversation. “We’re done here.”

  Jessica then got in her car.

  Daisy wasn’t quite finished. “I know it burned you when you gave up your husband, only to have Adam tell you he wanted to take a break. I know it crushed you to lose everything that mattered to you. To know Adam was the cause of it all must have made you crazy.”

  Jessica narrowed her eyes. “I loved him.”

  Jessica then drove off.

  Daisy had seen what could happen when love went sour. She muttered to herself. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Daisy didn’t know if she’d find answers inside Sudsy Scott’s. What she did find was a place that was loaded with character, but light on charm. If those creaky, peeling walls could talk, Daisy was afraid of the things they’d say. The place was sure memorable—just for all the wrong reasons. Then again, the kind of people that went to a bar called Sudsy Scott’s didn’t care about things like décor. They wanted a stiff drink at a low price, and they got it.

  Daisy felt immediately out of place the moment she walked in. It was still pretty early in the day, so the place was nearly empty. That made Daisy stand out even more. She wasn’t sure what was a stranger sight--the fact that this bar had a jukebox that looked older than her, or that there was a bearded barfly playing billiards with himself, muttering under his breath the whole time.

  While Daisy was distracted looking at the barfly, the bartender zeroed in on her.

  “You lost?” Scott Walton asked.

  Daisy turned to Scott behind the bar.

  Scott was a burly man in his late thirties with a shaved head and tattoos aplenty. He was wearing a shirt that was a size too small for him which showe
d off his muscles.

  “No. I’m actually trying to find out some information,” Daisy said.

  “And I’m trying to run a business. Besides, nothing in life is free—the least of which is information,” Scott replied.

  Apparently subtlety was optional at Sudsy Scott’s. Ordering a drink was not. If Daisy wanted to get anything out of Scott, it was clear she’d have to order a drink. What a shame too, because there was no way she was going to take a sip of the thing at this hour, especially with so much sleuthing left to do.

  “So, what can I get for you?” Scott asked.

  Daisy decided to go bold. She slid a twenty dollar bill across the bar.

  “Surprise me,” she said.

  Scott’s eyes opened wide. “You must really need information bad if you’re willing to leave your sobriety in my hands like that.”

  “Let’s just say this information could mean the difference between catching a murderer or not.”

  There were two ways Scott could react to that statement. He could go into lock down mode and tell her nothing. Or, he could respect her feistiness and open up. She was banking on the latter.

  Bartenders were told wild stories all the time. They never got to take part in any of them though. They were always outside observers. Daisy was giving Scott a chance to become part of the story. One he could tell for the rest of his life. How he had a part in solving a crime. She had a hunch he’d jump at that.

  The expression on Scott’s face completely changed. Daisy had Scott’s undivided attention suddenly.

  “Murder?” Scott asked.

  Daisy knew she had him right where she wanted him.

  “I could really use your help here. What do you say? Can you answer some questions for me?”

  “Who was murdered?”

  “I’m the one with the questions here. So I’ll tell you what. Answer mine and I’ll answer yours,” Daisy said.

  Scott stared into her eyes.

  “Deal. Now, who was murdered?” Scott asked.

  “Adam Dunning,” Daisy revealed.