She nodded. She did understand. The mayor’s wife had collapsed in her restaurant, promised never to eat there again, and later that evening had given a statement to a reporter that Papa Pacelli’s had given her food poisoning. It was front page news. If anyone had motive to kill Laura Martin, it was Ellie. I must be at the very top of his list, she thought.
“And… non-officially? Do you think I did it?”
“I’d like to say no, that I know you well enough to know that you’d never do something like that. But your answer didn’t exactly inspire confidence in me.” His eyebrow arched higher. “Care to explain exactly how you aren’t sure whether or not you killed someone?”
“Well, the food poisoning,” Ellie said, looking down at the table in shame. “I’m not saying she got it from Papa Pacelli’s, but if she did, then it’s my fault that she died, isn’t it?”
He looked puzzled for a moment, then relieved. She thought she even saw the hint of a smile cross his face. “Ellie, she didn’t die from food poisoning. She was strangled.”
“Really?” She felt a rush of relief, then guilt at her own reaction. A woman was still dead, after all. “When? Where was she found? Who do you think did it?”
Russell shook his head. “I really can’t say any more. It’s an ongoing investigation. Well, I suppose I can tell you one thing — she was found at the marina. That, along with the manner of her death, sums up everything the press knows, and I’d like to keep it that way. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask you.”
“Of course, go ahead.”
“When was the last time you saw Ms. Martin?”
“When she was leaving the pizzeria,” she said.
“Did you have any contact with her after that? A phone call or email?”
“No, why? Why would she want to talk to me?”
“I’m afraid I can’t say anything else for now. But it’s very important that you’re honest with me. Are you certain that she didn’t get into contact with you? Did anyone give you a message on her behalf?”
“No,” Ellie said, shaking her head. “I watched her get loaded into the ambulance, and that was the last I heard of her until I looked at the paper this morning.”
“All right, that’s good.” He made a note. “Where were you between when you left the pizzeria last night and seven o’clock this morning?”
“Home,” Ellie said. “I had a late dinner with Nonna, read for a bit, then went to bed. I got up at eight.”
“Is there anything else you can think of that might be pertinent to this case?” he asked. “I’m sure you hear a lot, working at the pizzeria.”
“Not that I can think of,” she told him. “I didn’t even know who she was until I saw her husband.”
“That’s good.” He made another note, then leaned back in his seat. “I think that’s all for now. Wait, there’s actually one more thing.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the desk and giving her a serious look. “I know you have a habit of getting involved in things you shouldn’t. This time, I think it’s best for you to stay out of it. Go to work, take care of your grandmother, but stay far away from anything to do with Ms. Martin or her husband. I’m going to tell Shannon the same thing, though I doubt she’ll listen to me. Understood?”
“Of course. If she didn’t die of food poisoning, then this doesn’t have anything to do with me,” Ellie said. “Why would I get involved?”
She returned home just in time to take a quick shower before getting ready for work. The house was unusually quiet. Marlowe was hanging on the bars of her cage, watching Ellie closely. The pizzeria manager opened the cage and let the bird step out onto her arm before she made her way towards the kitchen.
“Nonna?” she called. “Are you here?”
No answer. Frowning, she hurried into the kitchen and checked the counter by the phone, where they left each other notes. Sure enough, her grandmother had left her one.
Ellie dear,
I’m going out. Don’t worry, I didn’t drive myself; Gertie gave me a ride. I’ll see you later today!
Love,
Nonna
The note didn’t exactly give her very much information, but at least she knew her grandmother was all right. She always dreaded coming home to find that Nonna had fallen and hurt herself.
“I wonder what she’s doing?” Ellie said, talking to the bird on her arm. “She doesn’t have anything written on the calendar for today.” The macaw remained silent, and she shrugged. “Oh, well. I’ll ask her about it later. Right now, I’ve got to get ready to go. The earlier I get to the pizzeria, the better. I want things to be ship-shape for opening. Our reputation can use all of the boost it can get.”
CHAPTER SIX
* * *
She parked in her usual spot in the back of the pizzeria. No one else was there yet, which wasn’t surprising since she had gotten there half an hour before the other employees were scheduled to arrive. There would be plenty of time for her to go through the kitchen without interruption; she was determined to see if she could find any hint of food that had gone bad. Before she went on record saying that the pizzeria had nothing to do with Ms. Martin’s food poisoning, she wanted to make sure she had all of the facts.
Ellie pushed open the employee entrance, then froze, realizing her mistake. It hadn’t been locked. It should have been locked. She was certain that she had locked up last night; she always locked up. Had one of her employees stopped by for some reason and forgotten to lock the door when they left? No, that wasn’t it. The lights were all on, and someone was humming in the dining area. There was somebody there.
Gulping, she eased the employee door shut behind her silently and reached for her phone in her purse. Should she call Russell? What if it was just one of her employees, here early for some reason? Both Iris and Rose lived within walking distance of the pizzeria. Iris didn’t have a key yet, though, and Rose wasn’t scheduled to work today. Ellie’s fingers brushed her phone, but she decided not to make the call yet. The last thing she wanted to do was lead the sheriff on yet another wild goose chase. Besides, what sort of burglar hummed?
Grabbing a spatula as backup, she tiptoed across the floor and pushed the door that lead from the kitchens to the dining are open just an inch. What she saw nearly made her drop the spatula in surprise. Nonna was standing at the register, wiping the counter down with a rag and humming to herself.
“Nonna? What are you doing here?” she asked, coming the rest of the way out of the kitchen.
“I had the most wonderful idea, and I thought I’d surprise you with it,” the older woman said, letting the rag fall to the counter and turning to her granddaughter.
“What was your idea?”
“I remembered how you were talking about needing to hire more employees, and since I don’t have anything to do most days, I thought why not work here? I helped your grandfather out, you know, when he first opened this place.”
“But Nonna, I already hired someone else…” The pizzeria manager fell silent, her eyes on her grandmother’s face. She realized that Nonna wasn’t doing this to help her out. She was doing this for herself. Ellie thought about just how lonely and quiet the older woman’s life must be, without her husband around. If she wanted to spend more time at the restaurant, then her granddaughter wasn’t going to stand in her way. “You know what? I think that’s a great idea. You know more about this place than any of us. We would love your help here.”
Ann Pacelli smiled, her expression grateful. “I don’t want to step on your toes, dear. Just think of me the same as any other employee.”
“I’ll do my best,” Ellie said with a chuckle. “I can’t promise anything though. You are my grandmother, after all.”
Clara and Jacob took Nonna’s sudden appearance at the restaurant in good stride. It had been years since she had worked there last, so there was a bit of a learning curve as the older woman was taught how to use the modern cash register, but she was a surprisingly qu
ick study. Not that it mattered; she could have taken all day to pick up the new skills and it wouldn’t have slowed them down at all. Business at Papa Pacelli’s that day was slower than it had ever been before.
“Where is everyone?” Clara asked, a little bit after three. She was sitting in an empty booth, looking around the just as empty dining area. Nonna was perched on the stool behind the register, practicing transactions. Ellie was leaning against the counter, staring out the window, and wishing desperately that just one person would walk through the doors.
“Are you sure the sign’s on?” she asked the young woman.
“I triple checked,” her employee promised. “It’s on.”
“At least Jacob has had some deliveries. Maybe people just don’t want to show their faces here yet.”
At that moment, the kitchen door swung open and Jacob came into the room. He was still wearing his jacket, and his face was flushed.
“I can’t believe that,” he said, throwing himself into the booth across from Clara. “Three deliveries, and only one of them tipped. The last one didn’t even answer the door. I don’t know if it was a prank call, or what, but there’s a double pepperoni pizza in the kitchen if anyone wants it.”
Ellie winced. They didn’t get many prank calls; it just wasn’t that sort of town. “Add the number to our list, and don’t take orders from them anymore. The person who didn’t give you a tip… did they say why?”
“No. She just seemed nervous, couldn’t get the door shut quickly enough after she took the pizza.”
“This is terrible,” Ellie groaned, burying her face in her hands. “They think I killed Laura Martin. I just know it.”
She looked up when she heard Clara clear her throat. She followed her employee’s gaze over to the door, where someone was coming in. Quickly, she straightened up and arranged her expression into a smile. It faded when she saw that it was just Shannon. Her friend would see right through anything false.
“Do you want a pizza?” Ellie asked. “Because if you do, you’d be one of three people in town that do.”
“Oh, Ellie, is it really that bad?” Shannon asked, coming over to take her hands. “I had hoped, probably for the first time that I got my job, that no one would read the newspaper.”
“I don’t know whether people are avoiding this place because of what was printed in the newspaper about Ms. Martin’s food poisoning, or because she was found strangled to death just a few hours later,” the pizzeria manager said grimly.
“Right now I think it’s just the food poisoning,” her friend said. “Russell’s doing what he can to keep her death quiet for now, though I’m sure a few people will have heard about it through word of mouth. It won’t be until the paper comes out tomorrow morning that people will begin avoiding you because they think you killed her.”
“Great, so people will be double avoiding me,” Ellie sighed.
“I’m going to try to do what I can to help you, but the paper only — oh, hi, Ann.” Shannon had just seen Ellie’s grandmother, and seemed to be trying to figure out what in the world she was doing standing behind the register with a Papa Pacelli’s cap on her head.
“I work here now,” Nonna said. She tilted her cap down. “See?”
Shannon nodded. “I sure do. Well, that’s nice, isn’t it? The two Pacelli women working together.”
She turned back to Ellie and raised her eyebrows. The pizzeria manager smiled and shrugged. Her grandmother was healthy and, seemingly, happy; she wasn’t one to complain. “What were you saying about the paper?”
“Oh, right,” her friend said with a shake. “I was just saying, I’ll try to help you and the pizzeria out as much as I can in my column, but the paper only gives me so much freedom. I was thinking of starting a blog or something, but I’d have no idea how to get people to read it. Anyway, I think this will all blow over once Russell finds out who really killed the mayor’s wife. It will be much bigger news than her getting sick at the party, and people will forget that soon enough.”
“So your advice is to just wait and see?” Ellie asked.
Shannon nodded. “Wait and see, and keep your fingers crossed that another suspect is found as quickly as possible.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
* * *
Shannon’s wait and see strategy only got Ellie so far. Sure enough, the day that Laura Martin’s death came out in the newspaper, Papa Pacelli’s got even less business than before. She didn’t know whether their customers were more scared to be seen in the pizzeria, or more frightened that she was going to leap over the counter and attack them. She began spending most of her hours in the kitchen, happier not to show her face.
Things hardly improved over the next few days. Ellie was glad that she had Thursday scheduled off for Bunny’s vet appointment. For all she knew, the restaurant would do better without her there.
Somehow, the papillon seemed to know that they weren’t going to one of their usual haunts. She walked slowly behind Ellie on their way to the car, and refused to jump into the seat. Her owner had to pick her up and put her in by force. Ignoring the dog’s pitiful look, she walked around to the driver’s side door and got in herself.
“You only go to the vet once a year. I don’t understand how you can remember the word ‘vet’ for a whole year, but somehow forget ‘sit’ after five minutes.”
The dog gave one pitiful thump of her tail at the sound of Ellie’s voice, then put her head down between her front paws and let out a long sigh. The woman chuckled.
“You sound almost as sad as I’ve been feeling. I’ve been kind of self-pitying this week, haven’t I?”
The veterinary clinic was down in Benton Harbor, a good twenty minutes’ drive from the Pacelli house at the northern edge of town. By the time they reached the highway between the two towns, Bunny had perked up and was looking out the passenger window, her front paws on the car door. Ellie wished that she could find time to enjoy the simple things in life as easily as her dog could, though of course she didn’t envy her papillon the poking and prodding she would soon be suffering through at the vet.
“Well, everything looks good,” the vet said, giving the little dog a quick scratch behind the ears. “She’s set on shots for the next year. Just remember what I said about cutting down on treats. She’s only about a pound heavier than I would like, but that’s a lot of weight for such a little dog.”
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t get as much between meals,” Ellie promised. “She’s home a lot during the day with my grandmother, and I’ve got a suspicion that she gets quite a few extra cookies when I’m not there.”
“Increasing her exercise would help, too,” the vet said. “But other than her weight, she’s perfectly healthy. She seems very well taken care of. Do you have any other pets? We’ve got a special going right now — fifty percent off an exam for the second pet in your household for new clients.”
“Do you see birds?” Ellie asked, thinking of Marlowe. She had no idea when the macaw had last been to see a vet.
“No, sorry. We don’t see exotic pets.”
“Oh, that’s all right. Thanks anyway.”
She followed the vet out of the exam room, paid Bunny’s bill, and walked outside. Now that the exam was over, the papillon was brimming with energy and jumped right up into the passenger seat when her owner opened the door. Ellie felt better too, surprisingly. The pizzeria was still doing terribly, but it was a nice sunny day, if a bit chilly, and the drive along the coast had done wonders to lift her spirits. It was easy to forget that she lived right by the ocean, and she really spent hardly any time on the water even though her family owned a boat.
Maybe I need to start taking more time to enjoy life, she thought as she guided her car back towards Kittiport. If she had more to her life than work, then maybe she wouldn’t get as down when things weren’t going so well at Papa Pacelli’s. She decided to take advantage of her good mood and stop off at the marina with Bunny before going home. The vet had said that the l
ittle dog could use more exercise, and Ellie wasn’t exactly in top shape herself.
“Maybe we’ll start jogging,” she said to her dog. “How would you like that? We’ll start slow, but we could both use the exercise.”
The marina was busy for the middle of a weekday. Soon enough the weather would be freezing and snowy, so it made sense that people would want to take advantage of this wonderful, clear fall day. Boats were coming and going with such frequency that she was surprised there weren’t any crashes. Ellie still wasn’t comfortable enough with her grandfather’s boat, the Eleanora to take it out herself, but she had a book in her purse, and could just as easily kick back on the deck in the marina as she could on the open ocean.
She was halfway down the dock — Bunny in her arms to prevent a repeat of the dog’s near-suicidal plunge into the sea — when she remembered that Russell had said that Laura Martin’s body had been found here. She didn’t know if the woman had been found on a boat, in the water, or on the dock itself. How horrible that must have been for whoever it was that had found her.
Italian Wedding Murder: Book 4 in Papa Pacelli's Pizzeria Series Page 3
