CHAPTER ELEVEN
After they had each downed a couple of servings of warm apple crumble and low-fat ice cream, David left to drive Reggie back to Misty Pines. Moira started on the dishes, and was about halfway through when the private investigator returned.
“Dinner was nice,” he said, coming up behind her and kissing her on the cheek before reaching into the sink to help her wash the remaining dishes. “I think it meant a lot to Reggie.”
“Thanks for driving him,” she said. “I still feel bad that you had to go out of your way. You don’t even know him that well.”
“I know him about as well as you do,” he pointed out. “He seems like a good guy. He has interesting stories to tell—he’s lived quite the life.”
She had spent so much time doing everything alone that it felt odd, but nice, having a partner to hand bowls to for drying. I want this all the time, she thought as their arms brushed.
After the dining room table was cleared and the kitchen was cleaned up, they went out back with the dogs. The only seating Moira had on the back porch was a single rocking chair, so they leaned against the railing together instead of sitting as they watched the dogs play in the yard
“Do you think they’ll arrest Danny before he flees?” she asked him.
“Honestly? I don’t know.” He paused, then added, “I’m less concerned with him being caught than him not hurting anyone else. I’d rather him escape with all of his aunt’s money and live out the rest of his life on some beach in Argentina than have him get caught after attacking someone else.”
She knew he was concerned about Reggie. The old man had been so vocal about the murders that he was the obvious next target if Danny was hanging around.
“If Danny knows that the police are investigating his mother’s and aunt’s deaths, then he might not take the chance of killing someone else,” she said. “It would just give the police more to work with.”
“I hope you’re right.” He ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. “I wish he hadn’t called you.”
“Why?” she asked, surprised. “If it wasn’t for him, then Delilah’s death might never have been exposed as a murder.”
“That’s true,” he said. “But I hate that you’re involved. I wanted to keep you safe after you came back… but it looks like I failed miserably.”
“I’m perfectly safe,” she said. “No one has made any threats against me. I’ve hardly even talked to anyone from the nursing home. I don’t think I even said anything to Danny that would make him think I suspect him to be the killer.”
“Still, you’re connected to Reggie.” David shook his head. “I’m sorry, I just worry about you. I swear, I have twice the number of grey hairs now than before I met you.”
“You don’t need to worry so much,” she said, reaching over and taking his hand. “I know a lot of crazy stuff has happened, but I’m fine.”
“Moira, last month you almost died in a barn fire. You had a broken arm and passed out from smoke inhalation. Before that, you got a concussion and were almost shot. I honestly don’t know whether you are the luckiest person that I’ve ever met, or the unluckiest.”
“I think I’m the luckiest,” she said. “If I was so unlucky, then I wouldn’t have met you, would I ?”
He chuckled. “Well, it is hard to argue with that.”
She smiled up at him, thinking back to all the times he had saved her. She really was lucky to have met him. Without him, chances were she wouldn’t be standing there right then.
“I’m sorry we’ve both been so busy lately,” he added. “We still haven’t had a chance to go out for our nice dinner.”
“How about Friday?” she said. “I work in the morning, and even though it’s one of the busier nights, it’s almost a week away. I’m sure Denise will be able to get us a table if I call her tomorrow.”
“That sounds perfect.” He squeezed her hand. “I can’t wait.”
They went inside a few minutes later, when the hungry mosquitoes became too much to bear. Moira checked the calendar and saw it was almost time for the dogs’ next dose of heartworm medication; since her mind was on it, she popped open the package and gave them both their chewable beef-flavored pills.
“Oh, I saw the collar you got for Hazel,” she told David. “I love it. It’s so perfect for her.”
“She’s a sweet dog,” he said. “Karissa loves her. It was nice of you to let her have Hazel.”
“It was a weight off my back,” she admitted. “Everyone wants a puppy. Not too many people want an adult dog with an unknown history.”
“Really?” He looked down at Keeva and Maverick, who were both laying on the cool kitchen floor, tired from their play outside. “You took a chance on two of them.”
“Well, they both kind of chose me,” she said. “I couldn’t very well abandon them after that, now could I?”
The dogs, somehow sensing that they were the topic of the conversation, looked up at her and David and started wagging their tales. The private investigator crouched down to scratch their ears.
“Oh, I haven’t heard any more mice,” she said, remembering the last time David had been at her house.
“Huh?” he said distractedly. Keeva had rolled over, and he was rubbing her belly.
“Remember, last time you were here you said that Maverick heard mice in the attic?”
“I don’t—oh, right, I remember.” He stood up, brushing his hands off. “Funny, huh? They must have left. Or maybe it was just the wind.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I guess.” David really was acting strange lately.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next day at the deli was unusually slow, which for once was a good thing. Moira took the time to update the deli’s website while Darrin organized the fridge. They had a catering event early next week, and they had to make sure that they had enough space to store the extra food that would be coming in the next delivery.
Martha stopped in after she got off work, a little bit after five. Seeing her friend was a nice change of pace for the deli owner, who had spent the last few hours coming up with the daily specials for the next two weeks.
“Slow day?” she asked, looking around at the empty dining area.
“I blame the weather,” Moira said. It was an unusually warm, clear day, and most of her customers were probably at the beach for a last swim before the water got too cold. She was sure that Candice would find her way over to Lake Michigan after the candy shop closed—she would have been tempted to go herself if she hadn’t already scheduled herself to work until close.
“Ugh, I didn’t even notice,” Martha said, glancing out the window. “I’ve been absolutely slammed at work. Speaking of, do you think you could watch Diamond for me this weekend? I can drop her off before your date with David.”
Diamond was Martha’s little black-and-white mixed-breed dog. The little pup had a wonderfully happy personality, and loved to play with Moira’s two bigger dogs. She was small, but she was agile enough to run circles around them.
“Sure… wait, how do you know about our date?”
“Denise told me,” her friend said.
“Oh…” Moira frowned, wondering if she was losing her mind. She hadn’t called to make the reservation yet, had she? David must have done it, she realized. That was nice of him.
“You know what, I can find someone else to watch her this weekend,” her friend said.
“No, no, it’s really no trouble.”
“You might be too busy…”
“I don’t have any plans that weekend, other than work,” the deli owner said. “I love having Diamond over, and so do my dogs. It’ll be fun.”
“If you’re sure,” her friend said anxiously.
“I am,” Moira said firmly. She had no idea why her friend was being so weird about it. She usually watched Diamond a couple of times a month, when Martha traveled for her job. It was easier than putting Diamond in a kennel every time her owner had to go away, an
d the little dog enjoyed staying with Moira and two giant companions much more than sleeping alone in a kennel.
“Well, thank you. I really appreciate it.” The other woman smiled at her and changed the subject. “I’m starved. What’s the special today?”
“Asiago beef soup and a cheese and beef rye sandwich.”
“That sounds perfect. Can I have a cup of soup and a sandwich, and one of these carbonated waters?”
“Sure thing. Coming right up.”
She poked her head into the kitchen to tell Darrin the order and ask him to bring out a second serving for her, then joined her friend at a table. They chatted about their jobs while they waited for the food, then fell silent as they both dug in. Moira was about halfway through her soup when she heard her phone, still in her purse behind the register, go off. Excusing herself, she got up and hurried over to catch it on the final ring.
“I’ve got news,” David said.
“Is it about Danny?” she asked. “Did the police arrest him.”
“Yes, and no. I got in touch with Beatrice and Delilah’s lawyer—it turns out that they used the same one—and told him I was investigating their deaths. I told him my theory about Danny being the killer, and that I thought he might have killed his mother when he found out that she took his name off of her will. He told me who she put in his place… it was Delilah.”
“She left everything to her sister?” Moira asked, talking quietly so Martha wouldn’t be able to hear what she was saying.
“Everything,” David confirmed. “Not a single cent to Danny.”
“Well, that might have been what made him angry enough to kill her,” she said. “And he probably would have been upset with Beatrice as well. Wait… who did Beatrice put in her will?”
“That’s the interesting part,” he said. “The lawyer told me that Delilah made a change to her own will around the same time that Beatrice did.”
“Well, who did she put down?”
“I don’t know,” the private investigator said. She could hear his frustration through the phone, and could almost see the muscles in his jaw flexing as he fought not to grind his teeth—an old habit that he had been trying to break since a recent trip to the dentist. “The lawyer started getting suspicious, wondering exactly how much he had to tell me. He wasn’t too happy to learn that he didn’t technically have to tell me anything. A private investigator’s badge doesn’t mean people have to talk to you. Once he realized that, he clammed up.”
“Well, at least you managed to get something out of him,” she said. “I just wish we knew whether or not Danny stands to inherit anything from his aunt. If he was the person she named in her will, then he’s going to be getting a lot of money. He’ll get everything from both his aunt and his mother.”
“No wonder he bought a one-way ticket out of the country,” David said. “The second he boards that plane Thursday evening, he’ll be free to do whatever he wants with his inheritance.”
“That just means we have to stop him before his flight,” the deli owner replied with determination.
“I don’t want you getting involved with this again, Moira,” he said. “He’s already killed two people. Will you please leave this to the professionals?”
She mumbled something that might have sounded like agreement, told him she loved him, and hung up. It wasn’t that she wanted to find herself hip deep in trouble again, but if the opportunity arose to put a stop to Danny’s killing spree, she had no doubt that she would take it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Sorry, Maverick,” she said to her dog the next evening as she pulled on her boots. “I can’t bring you this time. I promised Candice I’d help her with a big order of chocolates, which means we’re going to be spending a lot of time in the kitchen, and I doubt any of her customers want to find a dog hair in their candy.”
The big black and tan dog continued looking at her hopefully, his eager eyes not doing anything to make her feel better about leaving him behind. Keeva, on the other hand, seemed to have gotten the message. She lay on the hallway floor with her head between her paws, looking up at Moira with a mournful expression that wasn’t much better than Maverick’s eager whining.
“My goodness, you two act like I’m abandoning you. I’ll only be gone for a few hours, and I’ll see if Candice has any of those peanut butter biscuits that you like so much left.”
The young woman had begun making homemade dog treats after finding an easy recipe online. She kept a bowl of free samples next to the register for her dog-loving customers to take. The biscuits were a big hit with both Maverick and Keeva, and were probably a lot healthier for them than the store-bought kind that they usually ate.
“Be good,” she said, waggling a stern finger at them before she left. “If neither of you get into the bathroom trash while I’m gone, then we’ll go on a nice long walk after I get back, all right?”
When her daughter had called her that morning, frantic because Logan, her only employee, was down with the flu, Moira had been only too happy to offer her help. She didn’t know the first thing about chocolate making, but she figured it couldn’t be too hard to pour melted chocolate into the silicon molds and stick them in the freezer. It would give her a chance to spend some time with her daughter, and, even better, it would serve as a nice distraction from worrying about Danny.
The clock to his departure was ticking ever closer. Neither she nor David had heard anything about the police department’s investigation, and the silence was driving her crazy. In just two days, Danny would get on that plane and would be beyond the reach of their local police department. The worst part was the fact that there was nothing Moira could do about it, short of physically holding Danny back. David had already told the police everything that they knew. The station had even sent Officer Catto, one of their junior detectives, out to Misty Pines to talk with several residents, including Reggie and the staff; but according to Reggie they had barely mentioned Danny.
All in all, it was a stressful situation, and Moira was glad for an excuse to force herself to stop worrying about it. An evening spent in the kitchen with her daughter making chocolates sounded like just what she needed.
Candice’s Candies was closed for the evening, the neon sign off, and a curtain drawn across the big front window. The deli owner drove by slowly, admiring the building from the front before continuing around the block to park in the back. She started toward the small door that led to the two apartments above the candy shop, then stopped herself. Candice had lived above the shop up until a few weeks ago, but now she lived across town in the big, old house of Reggie’s that Eli lived in. The house was almost half again the size of her own stone house in Maple Creek, and had a private fenced-in yard, a sizeable deck in the back, and more bedrooms than they would ever need. Moira had been there a couple of times for dinner, and had to admit to herself that she was just the slightest bit jealous of her daughter’s home, though she loved her little house in the woods.
She changed course and knocked instead on the back entrance of the candy shop, which was opened a split second later by an exhausted Candice.
“Thanks so much for coming, Mom,” she said. “I know it’s not Logan’s fault—he was willing to come in despite being sick, but I couldn’t chance it and told him to stay home—but it’s been so hard trying to fulfill this order without him. Maybe I should begin thinking about hiring someone else… we’ve been getting a lot of online orders for our custom candies.”
“We should hold some sort of job fair,” Moira said, only half joking. “I’ve been thinking of hiring some new people just for the deli’s catering service. It’s hard splitting up the team I have now between catering and watching the deli.”
Candice laughed and stood aside so her mother could go in. “You know, we really shouldn’t be complaining. We have it pretty good when business is going too well.”
“That’s true. But one botched catering event—or delivery—would be terrible for our reputations.
It’s too easy to make a mistake when you’ve been working twelve-hour shifts all week.”
“Ugh.” The young woman scrunched her face up. “Don’t remind me. I’m looking forward to some long days until Logan gets better. It will be nice when Eli closes shop for the season and can spend more time here. I think he’s better at running this place than me and Logan are combined.”
“He’s had years more experience at running a business than you have,” Moira pointed out. “Don’t worry, you’ll get there. The deli was a mess when I first opened it, but look at it now… things run pretty smoothly for the most part.”
Making the chocolates turned out to be a simpler process than the deli owner had imagined. Candice obviously knew what she was doing, and smoothly moved from one double boiler to the next, giving the contents a stir and occasionally adding an extra dash or drop of this or that flavoring. Moira did her best to keep the counters clean, and hurried to help her daughter whenever she requested something.
“Can you take the molds out of the fridge and begin putting the chocolates in that box over there?” her daughter asked. “Put parchment paper between the layers, and when it’s full, close the box and call me over so I can label it. Then the molds get washed and used again for the next batch.”
The deli owner got to work, careful not to break any of the chocolates as she popped them out of the mold. They were in the shape of a paw print, with the letters CAHS stamped into them.
“What are these for?” she asked as she worked.
“Oh, it’s the Capital Area Humane Society,” the young woman replied. “They’re having a fundraising event for the animals. The person I got Felix from gave them my name.”
Felix was Candice’s one-in-a-million male calico cat. Moira watched him once in a while when her daughter was away, and held a special spot of fondness for him in her heart.
“How is Felix doing? It’s been a while since I’ve seen him. I bet he missed you while you were gone.”
“Eli said he slept on my pillow every night,” her daughter said, smiling as she sifted some confectioners’ sugar into one of the double boilers. “He was definitely happy to see me again—he tried to climb up my leg when I walked in the door. I still have some scratches.”
Creamy Casserole Murder: Book 15 in The Darling Deli Series Page 6
