The Breakfast Burger Murder

by Rosie A. Point

  “Did you call the cops?” I asked.

  I wasn’t so much numb to what had happened, as I was forcing myself to remain calm. After all, if there was a killer on the loose in the house, I had to be alert. But, my guess was that they had escaped out the window.

  I had to stay back, though, no matter how much I wanted to check for marks on the window sill or some means of climbing down from the second floor. If I contaminated this crime scene, Liam’s lax attitude about my interferences would officially disappear.

  “Griz? Did you call the cops?”

  My friend was as white as Nelly had been. She nodded, at last, staring blankly at the corpse.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get downstairs and wait in the living room. There’s no use standing here and staring. We should tell Nelly what happened, as well. Prepare her.” But how on earth was I supposed to prepare the already terrified Nelly for this? Her long-lost brother dead.

  The brother who had fought with her over their inheritance. As I guided my friend down the stairs and toward the waiting florist, I tried working it all out in my head. But my suspicions were muddled, and the case was no clearer than it had been only moments ago.

  Another two murders in Sleepy Creek, and in the same family. Who was next?

  16

  A golden hoop earring.

  That was my focus as I waited tables, delivering burgers and fries, and thick malt shakes. The image of Grayson clutching that earring had stayed with me all through the night, from when Liam and Cotton had interviewed Griz, Nelly and me, to this morning when I’d woken to Curly Fries chewing on my hair.

  This was a new thing she did. She got her teeth and claws tangled in my long curls and chewed and purred and massaged to her heart’s content. I wasn’t sure what it was about—maybe it was her way of telling me I needed a haircut—but it had only led to me washing my hair and pondering the earring, anyway.

  “Hey, Watson.” The call came from the corner table.

  Missi and Vee sat at it, sipping on their shakes.

  I trundled over. “What’s up?”

  “First off,” Missi said, “the sky is up. Don’t you ask me ‘what’s up’ in that tone.”

  “Oh, do ease up, sister. I think she’s got enough on her plate as it is. A full burger meal’s worth of trouble.”

  Missi hummed under her breath and flicked her newspaper. She tried folding it, but it wouldn’t bend and tuck in quite the way she desired, so she wound up squishing it into a square shape with much crinkling and muttering.

  “Is she all right?”

  “She doesn’t like the coffee I got for the Antique Store.”

  “No,” Missi said, lifting a finger. “You got the wrong coffee beans for the machine. There’s a difference.”

  “I just thought we’d try something new.”

  “I’m eighty-years-old, Virginia. Do I look like I want to try something new?” Missi asked, pointing at the frown wrinkles on her forehead.

  “You’re never too old to kick a habit or pick up a new one.”

  “I swear, it’s like living with an overly enthusiastic Labrador,” Missi growled.

  “For heaven’s sake, Vee, get her the coffee she likes. You’re threatening the happiness of everyone in Sleepy Creek by doing this,” I said, the corners of my lips twitching. The twins and their idiosyncratic behavior always distracted me from my frustrations.

  “Oh, you,” Vee said, and grinned at me.

  She’d lived with Missi’s temper tantrums long enough to know that her bark was worse than her bite. Or that was my experience so far. I hadn’t yet witnessed the bite and didn’t plan on it for the foreseeable future.

  “Sit.” Missi tapped a manicured nail on the polished tabletop. “We’re going to talk.”

  “About what?” I asked. “I’ve got tables to wait.”

  “Oh please, Watson. We both know the morning rush ended over a half hour ago.”

  I scanned my two remaining tables, apart from theirs, but they were occupied with reading a paper and sipping on coffee or munching on a burger.

  I sat down next to Virginia, the cushy red booth chair hissing beneath me. Shoot, maybe I did need to go on a diet or start running. Apparently, worrying about the murders and mysteries in Sleepy Creek hadn’t helped my waistline.

  “How are you feeling?” Virginia asked.

  “Like I’m missing something.”

  Missi pursed her lips. “A sense of accountability? A sense of service? Of…”

  “Mississippi. I’m going to have to ask you to leave the table if you continue acting this way. It’s one thing to poke fun, but to be downright mean is just—”

  “Fine, fine,” Missi sighed. “I take it back.”

  “Like I said, Christie, you’ll have to excuse her.”

  “What I’m missing,” I said, “is evidence. And the ability to investigate the case without jeopardizing it.” And my next date with Balle. Not that that matters or anything. It’s not like I can stay in Sleepy Creek.

  “We heard about Grayson,” Missi said, lowering her voice, sharp, crystal blue eyes sliding off to the left and then back again. “What a way to go. Stabbed in the back?”

  “Letter opener.” I fiddled with the edge of my tray, rolling it over my lap. “Window open. Second floor. Didn’t get to check the garden before I left.” Which would’ve been my first instinct. Go back and find out who had been there. Perhaps, I could find a shoe print, call in a favor with someone back in homicide to… No, you can’t do that.

  It frustrated me, having to work on these things without the proper resources. Then again, that was my fault. So, I frustrated me, in short.

  “But who would have done that?” Vee asked. “And why?”

  “Heard he was a horrible little man,” Missi whispered, rat-tatting her nails on the tabletop next to her milkshake. “Word on the street says he spat on Maura’s pizza when she came back with it to complain they hadn’t put any anchovies on. He called her an ‘old hag’ and spat all over it. They fired him afterward.”

  “I had no idea,” I said, tapping my chin. “Wait a second, Maura eats anchovies on her pizza?” I pulled a face.

  “Yes and no, dear.” Virginia chewed on the temple tip of her reading glasses. “She doesn’t eat them herself, but she peels them off and puts them out for the neighborhood cats, and she feeds some to her dog, Cujo.”

  “Her dog is named Cujo.”

  “After the one in Stephen King’s book,” Missi said, as if I needed further explanation.

  “Did she actually read the book?”

  “No, dear. She didn’t watch the movie either. Just thought it sounded like an interesting name,” Virginia said.

  Missi put up a hand. “Don’t even get me started on that.”

  None of this had anything to do with Grayson. “Any idea who his enemies might’ve been?” I asked.

  The hoop earring thing was stuck in my brain. I wracked it for a memory of who I’d seen wearing them. There had been Mona Jonah, for sure, and someone else. But who? Who was it?

  “Not really,” Missi said. “But he did have a massive fight with Janine in the pizzeria before he left. Apparently, she had just started working there, recently, and they didn’t get on.”

  “Janine was working at the pizzeria?” Vee frowned. “That can’t be right.”

  “They’ve fallen on hard times. Lost all their money. Richard’s been roaming the streets looking for a job. Mona’s at her wit’s end having them in the house, you heard her the other day.” Missi flashed a grin—any time Mona the Gossip was at wit’s end was a good time for her. They were mortal enemies.

  “So they fought.” A piece clicked into place in my mind. Hadn’t Janine been wearing hoop earrings the other day? When I’d spoken to her?

  But was that a clue? How could I be sure that it had been her that had murdered Grayson based solely off an earring? I couldn’t. And was Janine the type to clamber down the side of a building to escape a murder sc
ene? From my experience, stiletto heels and short skirts weren’t the best choice for speedy getaways.

  Perhaps, if I spoke to Janine about what had happened? But she had been positively self-involved the last time we’d spoken. Only forthcoming with regards to her popularity and general ‘awesomeness.’

  “—heard the whole thing.”

  “What was that?”

  “Oh, I was talking about the fight,” Missi said. “Apparently, Bella heard the whole thing and was shocked by the animosity between the two. She’s giving Janine a second chance, but well, guess it’s too late for Grayson now. Bad business. These murders. The summer months are coming, and Sleepy Creek is starting to look like a very dangerous place.”

  Bella had overheard a conversation between Janine and Grayson. I had my next lead.

  “Are you all right, Christie, dear?” Virginia asked, tapping me on the arm. “You’ve gone blank.”

  “I’ve got to go,” I said, rising from the table. I’d ask Hedy to help me with my customers. “I’ve got to—just go.”

  “Suit yourself,” Missi said, lifting her crumpled newspaper. “Mind getting us some proper coffee beans on your way back? I’ll pay you for them.”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake.” Virginia took a furious sip of her vanilla milkshake.

  17

  The pizzeria was open for early lunch customers—melting cheese and crisp pepperoni was the flavor palette for my arrival. I stood in the small space in front of the counters, scanning the specials that had been attached to the walls above. They bore faded pictures of each pizza type, with prices that had been scratched out with permanent marker and written in again on the plastic front of each box.

  This was how Sal’s had always been, but I had to say, the pizzeria had a better vibe than it had had a few months ago when the original owner had still been alive. It was cleaner, and the young man standing behind the counter smiled at me happily.

  “Welcome to Sal’s Pizzeria, ma’am. May I help you?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Is Bella around? I’d like to speak to her.”

  “She’s in the office, ma’am. I can fetch her for you?”

  “Please.”

  The kid skedaddled around the counter and toward the door that had to lead through to the office. Or the staff area. He knocked once then entered. The muffled sounds of talking were barely audible over the music jiving through the speakers overhead—Elvis Presley crooning away.

  A man shouted an order number in back, and a pizza was slipped onto the silver rack behind the counter—it separated front of house from back.

  Finally, the kid reappeared, Bella following closely on his heels.

  I kept my expression impassive, but her appearance was somewhat of a shock.

  The last time I’d seen her, she’d been mourning the death of her friend, Francesca, in a black dress, her long glossy hair swaying down her back, and her eye make-up dramatic. Not to mention she’d been crying and had been threatened by a murderer—the very same Spider who had killed her friend.

  Now, Bella wore her hair up in a neat bun and was fresh-faced and smiling in her Sal’s Pizzeria uniform shirt—a new one with a revamped logo.

  “Christie!” She gave me a hug. “It’s great to see you again. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I was hoping to speak to you about something. In private?”

  “Of course. Follow me.”

  We entered her office, and I took a seat on the cushy chair in front of her desk. The place was plainly decorated, with images of Sal and Fran on the walls, and a few of Bella with Fran as well. I was kind of happy for Bella.

  Her involvement in the attempted murder of Dolores Baker had been called into question, but nothing had come of it yet, and no charges had been pressed against her. I’d witnessed first-hand how she’d been manipulated.

  “So,” Bella said, brushing her hands over her shirt, proudly. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, it’s come to my attention that you witnessed a … disagreement between Janine, your employee, and the late Grayson Boggs.”

  “Oh. I see.” Bella flashed a sharp smile. “You’re checking it out?”

  “Not officially. I’m gossiping. That’s all.”

  “Look, Christie, I’m not going to tell anyone if you want to poke around in this type of thing. If you hadn’t poked around in what had happened to Franny, I might have taken the fall for it. Partly because of my own fear and stupidity.”

  “Right,” I said.

  “So, you don’t have to worry about using euphemisms for ‘investigation’ around me. I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

  Well, that was easy. Strangely so. Was Bella wearing hoop earrings? No, thankfully not. But she might’ve had a pair. Did the hoop earring narrow down the suspects to half the people in Sleepy Creek? I couldn’t be so sure.

  “What did you hear them arguing about, Bella? That’s what I’d like to know.”

  Bella chewed on her bottom lip. “Let me think. They were in the front, and I heard them shouting. So I went to my door and opened it. I only caught the tail-end of their conversation, but it was somewhere along the lines of not doing something.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes,” Bella said. “Janine was angrier than Grayson. She was like ‘why are you being so dumb about this?’ And Grayson told her he didn’t want to be involved. He said, ‘I never agreed to this, and it’s not my problem anymore, so get lost.’ I’m paraphrasing.”

  Now, that was interesting. They had been arguing over an agreement. But what could it have been? “Was there anything else?”

  “Not really no. Oh wait. Yes. Janine said that Grayson owed them.”

  “Owed who?” I asked.

  “I have no idea. Those were her direct words. ‘You owe us.’ And at that point, I walked out and told them to quiet down as they had already scared off two customers. I let Grayson go. I kept Janine because it was her first offense. Grayson had been causing trouble all week. Now, I was the first one to offer him time off after what happened to Martha, but … he wouldn’t take it. He didn’t seem upset about his mother’s death.”

  That made for two children who hadn’t cared about their mom passing on. Terrible. “Is there anything else you can tell me, Bella? Anything at all?”

  “Nothing I can think of. Just that Grayson was the worst employee imaginable. Lazy. Never wanted to carry the extra load or help out the other staff members when they needed a break. He was selfish. Sounds mean of me to say it now that he’s gone, but that’s the truth.”

  “Thanks,” I said, rising from the chair. “I appreciate you talking to me.”

  Bella winked. “Anything I can do to help. You were the one who helped put away Mario.” She came around the desk and gave me a peck on either cheek. “If you need anything else, let me know.”

  “I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to a fully-loaded pizza,” I replied, chuckling, but the humor wasn’t really there for me.

  The talk with Bella had given me more questions than answers.

  18

  I tucked into one of the pizzeria’s most delicious pies back at home that night, dipping the stringy cheese into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully and enjoying the saltiness of the olives and pepperoni.

  Griz and Arthur had gone out on a date, and I was left with hungry beast Curly Fries, trying to work out what had happened last night. And on the night of Martha’s murder. I’d made a list of my suspects, then drawn links between them according to the evidence I had, but nothing was particularly clear.

  A piece was missing, as was often the case in a mystery. A link that would connect it all and drop the penny in my mind.

  “Ut –ot izzit?” I asked myself, around a mouthful of pizza.

  Curly Fries meowed at me and flicked her tail. She didn’t like messy eating unless it was her doing it.

  I tapped the end of my pen on the yellow legal pad I’d used to write up my list.

  Martha had a will. She had been rich. She
had left her money to Nelly and Grayson. Nelly definitely hadn’t killed Grayson, not directly, at least, because she’d been downstairs with us and pale as a sheet at the moment of the murder.

  And if Nelly had, say, been working with a hired killer to get rid of her brother and take all the riches for herself, why would she have called us over there? To give her an alibi. That was the obvious answer. But then, I wasn’t sure she had killed him in the first place.

  “More evidence,” I said, after I’d swallowed my bite. “I need more evidence. And more pizza.” I patted the top of another slice with a napkin, then picked it up from the grease-stained cardboard box.

  So Nelly wasn’t ruled out.

  But what about Janine. She had had a direct confrontation with Grayson just before his murder. And she had wanted him to be a part of something and said that ‘he owed them.’ Whoever the ‘them’ was. Spiders again? No, surely not everything could be linked to my mother’s case.

  Then who? Her and an accomplice. Her father? But her father hadn’t liked Grayson. He’d told the young man to stay away from his daughter according to Donovan. The same Donovan who had bought the initial murder weapon used in Martha’s case.

  I groaned around another bite of pizza. So many clues and strings, leading in different directions.

  At this point, I couldn’t even be certain that Grayson hadn’t killed Martha either. Just because he was dead, didn’t mean that he hadn’t done the initial deadly deed.

  Someone knocked on the front door, and I set down my pizza slice, flipped a page over the one I’d been writing on, and dabbed a napkin to my lips and fingers.

  I answered the door.

  “Evening.” Liam stood on the doorstep, out of uniform this time, and smiling. That was a good sign. He hadn’t come to accuse me of interfering again.

  “Hi,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Sheesh.”

  “Sorry, it’s just you mentioned that we shouldn’t see each other until you’ve solved the case. Does this mean…?”

  “No,” Liam said. “But I felt like seeing you in a non-professional and non-dating capacity. Call it a friendly visit. Unless you’re busy?”