“I’ll make sure she has the day off,” the deli owner promised. “And don’t worry about trying to schedule the grand opening around me—I’ll be there no matter what day you choose. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Their conversation paused when the waitress, a tired, middle-aged woman, came up to the table. She placed a pair of glasses filled with water in front of the two women, then whipped out her notepad.
“What can I get you, hon?” she asked, looking at Candice.
“I’ll have the grilled chicken sandwich and fries, please.”
The waitress turned her gaze to Moira.
“Um…” caught off guard, she scanned the menu quickly, seeking anything that caught her interest. “The fish and chips. Thanks.”
The waitress, whose nametag read May scribbled quickly on her pad, shot them a tired smile, and walked away.
They didn’t have to wait long before May brought out their food. The crispy fish steamed when she cut into it. She squeezed a lemon over it and dug in, Candice already tasting her sandwich.
Moira was between bites when something out the window caught her eye. She froze, a fork full of fish halfway to her mouth. It was David, and he was walking down the street with a petite brunette woman. She’s very beautiful, Moira noted in some distant part of her brain. As she watched, the woman linked her arm with David’s, and he laughed at something that she said. His face was relaxed and happy, and the woman gazed up at him in amusement.
The fish fell off of Moira’s fork and landed on her lap, causing her to tear her gaze away from the window. Candice looked up, concerned. Moira gestured wordlessly to the window, where David and the woman were passing by. She saw Candice’s lips thin, and knew that her daughter had reached the same conclusion she had. David was seeing another woman.
“Martha told me about this,” she said, half to herself. “I should have listened.”
“What?” Candice asked, still gazing at the receding forms of David and the mysterious woman.
“Martha told me that she saw David on a date with this woman,” Moira explained with a sigh, trying to ignore the way her heart ached. “I tried to convince myself that she must have been wrong, or that there was a reasonable explanation, but…” she let her words trail off, her eyes following the pair as they walked out of sight.
“Maybe there still is,” Candice said hopefully. “You never know.”
“They seemed so… close,” she said. She shook her head. “Maybe I was wrong about how serious our relationship is. He may not think he’s doing anything wrong. He may even think I’m seeing other men.”
“I think David takes your relationship very seriously,” Candice told her. “He’s always there when you need him, isn’t he? I know he cares about you. I can see it in the way he looks at you.”
“Then why—” She closed her lips, pursing them. She didn’t want to go around in circles discussing David and the other woman with her daughter. Nothing would be solved until she confronted the man himself… or he came clean to her.
CHAPTER NINE
She was still shaken the next day when she got to the deli. She trusted David—she kept telling herself that. It was hard, however, when she had seen him with another woman with her own eyes. She might just be an old friend, she thought, trying to reassure herself. But in that case, why wouldn’t he have mentioned her before?
She hadn’t spoken to Candice much about it at the time, not wanting to mar their otherwise pleasant day with the sense of betrayal she had felt. Now, however, she found herself wishing she had someone to share her thoughts with.
Why not just ask David? she thought. But it wasn’t as simple as that, not really. She and David had never talked about dating each other exclusively. Did she have any right to be angry, or even jealous, if he chose to spend time with another woman? It wasn’t like they were married; he was free to do what he wanted, as was she. It doesn’t seem to matter whether I have a right to be upset, she thought ruefully. I still feel that way.
With a groan, she rose from the stool behind the counter at the deli and began reorganizing the cases of meat, anything to keep her busy. It was a slow time of day, and she would be grateful when the evening rush started. Anything would be better than being left alone with her own thoughts right now.
As if in answer to her wishes, the deli’s front door jingled as someone walked through it, and Moira hurried back to the register to greet the customer. Something about him was familiar, and with everything that had been going on in the last few days, it took her a moment to place him.
“Eli, wasn’t it?” she asked at last when it came back to him. “You own the ice cream parlor in Lake Marion.” She was nearly certain he was the same young man who had stopped in to Candice’s Candies to say hi the week before, but she was still relieved when he smiled and nodded.
“That’s me,” he said. “And you’re Candice’s mom, right?”
“Yep. Moira Darling.” She shook his hand, glad for the distraction that he had provided her. “Can I help you with anything in particular today, or are you just going to look around?”
“Oh, um, I’m supposed to pick up some cheese slices and sparkling cider,” he said. “I can probably find it myself though.”
“The cider will be in the case on the end,” she said. “And the cheese is in front of the meat right there.”
She watched while he picked out the items. When he walked up with the items, plus a few extras, she began ringing him up. Since he was a fellow local business owner, and had been kind enough to stop by the candy stop just to introduce himself, she gave him a small discount. It never hurt to be nice to people, especially when they were people you were bound to run into again.
She was just packing the items into a bag for him when his cell phone rang. He gave her an apologetic smile and took the call, assuring whoever was on the other line that he had found everything all right and that no, the other person didn’t need to pay him back.
“No problem,” he said. “See you soon, Candice.”
Moira stared at him as he hung up, not wanting to admit that she had been listening, but dying to know if he had been talking to her daughter. Surely there was another Candice in town.
“Was that my daughter?” she asked after a moment of internal struggle, unable to help herself.
“Yeah.” He grinned at her in a friendly way. “She wanted to make sure I found this place all right. Oh, she said to say hi.”
Moira nodded and forced a smile, printing out his receipt and handing it to him. She liked Eli, but she was startled to find out that he and Candice were on such close terms. Just when had they become friends?
Being vague about why exactly she needed to call her daughter, Moira asked Meg to watch the register while she stepped outside. Careful to leave a brick between the door and the frame so the back delivery door couldn’t shut all the way, she speed dialed Candice’s number. Her daughter answered after just a few rings.
“I thought you might call,” her daughter said, her voice amused.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” Moira asked. Candice had almost always told her mother about her relationships, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt that her daughter hadn’t thought to tell her anything this time. Then again, she reminded herself, she doesn’t live with me anymore. I have to let her grow up some time. She’ll always be my little girl, but I have to remember that doesn’t mean that she’s a child. It was surprisingly hard to treat her adult daughter like, well, like an adult.
“We’re just friends,” the young woman said with a laugh. “He stopped by to see how I was doing, after he heard about the murder. He’s pretty nice; we’re going to hang out and watch movies for a bit. Allison is coming over too.”
“That’s good.” She smiled to herself, shaking her head in exasperation—whether at herself or at her daughter, she wasn’t sure. Would she ever stop feeling like a mother hen? “Does Adrian know about him?”
“My social li
fe is none of Adrian’s business,” Candice said flatly. “We broke up, and I plan to keep it that way this time. Everything was drama with him. At least Eli is easygoing, and doesn’t try to tell me how to run the candy shop.”
“I’m glad for that,” Moira said. “Though it might be a good idea to ask him for some advice, if you ever need help with anything. I’m sure he’s gone through a lot of the same issues with the ice cream shop that you will with the candy shop. Maybe even more so, since no one buys ice cream in the winter.”
“Yeah, he said winters are hard,” Candice admitted. “But the fact that the ice cream shop has managed to stay in business all these years gives me hope. If a business whose season is only really six or seven months out of the year can do that well, then the candy shop should do all right.”
I’m sure the candy store will do well, Moira thought. If it ever opens, that is.
“You’ll do fine, sweetie,” she said instead, trying to sound reassuring. It wasn’t that she doubted her daughter’s ability, but it seemed like outside forces were conspiring against her. Part of Moira wanted to tell Candice to give up, to just come home and stay out of Lake Marion. After all, her daughter had never had so many bad things happen to her when she was living in Maple Creek.
But we’re Darlings, she thought firmly to herself. And Darlings don’t give up.
CHAPTER TEN
“This is the life,” she said, reclining against the lawn chair’s pillowed headrest. She wouldn’t get a tan lying out in her yard like this—there were too many trees around—but the shade and soft breeze were pleasant all the same. Maverick was sniffing around at a pile of leaves a few feet away, and she could just hear the gentle burbling of the creek in the woods behind her house. Somehow her worries seemed less important and further away while she was out here, glass of wine in hand, with nothing on that day’s must-do list.
The relaxing moment ended abruptly when her phone rang. She answered it reluctantly; lately it seemed to just be one bad thing after another.
“Mom, I need your help,” came her daughter’s panicked voice. Moira sat bolt upright.
“What happened?” she asked, her mind flicking between scenarios that only seemed to get worse.
“The pipes in the kitchen are leaking. The whole place is flooded. I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll come right over. Have you called a plumber?” Moira closed her eyes in relief for a moment then stood up. At least Candice wasn’t hurt. No one was hurt; burst pipes were a piece of cake compared to a dead body.
“No, everywhere is closed.” Her daughter took a shuddery breath. “Just hurry, please?”
Moira did hurry, rushing to put the dog inside and grab her purse and keys. A burst pipe wasn’t life threatening, but it could cause serious—and expensive—damage to the candy shop. Burst pipe? she thought to herself. How would a pipe burst in the middle of summer? I’ve only ever heard of that happening if the pipes freeze in winter. She shook her head; the details didn’t matter now; something was obviously going on, and Candice needed her help.
On her way to Lake Marion, she found herself reaching for her phone to call David. Biting her lip, she forced herself to put the phone down. She had been asking too much of him lately; she and Candice could handle this on their own. The private investigator was still her friend, but she wouldn’t consider him to be anything more until she cleared the air with him.
When she pulled into the parking lot behind Candice’s building, she saw that the back door was propped open. She had only taken a few steps inside when she realized that the carpet was sopping wet. Dreading what she was going to see when she walked into the candy shop’s kitchen, Moira braced herself and pushed through the door.
The kitchen was completely flooded, with a half-inch thick layer of cold water that made Moira wish that she had worn something other than sandals. One of the copper pipes near the ceiling seemed to have split at the joint, and was spraying water all over the far wall. Candice was standing on a stepladder, futilely trying to hold the water back with her hands.
“Did you try turning the valve off?” Moira asked urgently, rushing over to the broken pipe, her eyes following it to the joints where the copper pipes came out of the wall. The knob that usually controlled the water flow seemed to have vanished—all that was left was a hunk of ugly metal.
“It broke somehow,” Candice said. “I already tried. What do we do?”
“Do you have duct tape?” the deli owner asked, looking around wildly as if she expected to see a roll of it sitting on the counter.
“Yeah, it’s in the bathroom. Under the sink. Hurry!”
Moira rushed out of the candy shop’s flooded kitchen and hurried down the hall to the small bathroom. She grabbed the large silver roll of tape and hurried back, already tearing off a strip. She joined Candice on the stepladder and eyed the pipe. The edges of the break looked suspiciously smooth and pinched together, almost as if the pipe had been cut. Now wasn’t the time for any sort of investigation, though; water was still spraying out at a tremendous rate.
Candice held the two broken sections of pipe together whole Moira wrapped strip after strip of duct tape around them. The roll of tape was noticeably smaller by the time they managed to get the spray of water under control. Drips still oozed around the edges of the tape, and she knew their makeshift repair wouldn’t last for long, but at least the room wasn’t flooding any more.
The two women leaned against the counter, tired, cold, and wet from their struggle with the pipes. The puddle of water in the room was no longer growing, at least, but the damage had already been done.
“How do we get all of this water out of here?” Candice asked.
“Is there a drain anywhere?”
“Under the sink—but whoever laid the foundation didn’t do a great job. The water is just pooling in the middle of the floor, not flowing to the drain. Look.”
It was true. The drain under the sink remained conspicuously dry, and the large pool of water in the middle of the floor didn’t seem to be making any moves towards it.
“Do you have a mop?” Moira asked.
“Yeah, in the supply closet by the bathroom. I’ve only got one, though. It’s going to take ages.”
“Well, we’d better get started then.” She sighed, thoughts of her comfortable lawn chair under the trees behind her house flashing through her mind. If only this hadn’t happened, she could still be lying there and enjoying her glass of wine. Relaxing. “If you’ve got fans, set them up in here and turn them on high too. I’ll make sure both doors are propped open so we get a cross breeze. You start mopping, I’ll look up an emergency plumber.”
Moira stepped outside to make her call to a local twenty-four-hour plumber, closing her eyes and turning her face to the setting sun as the line rang. When he answered, she explained the situation to him, gave him the address, then thanked him and hung up. She had no idea how much the repair would cost; they would just have to find some way to make it work.
When she stepped back inside the first thing she heard was the sound of angry voices coming from the flooded kitchen.
“Adrian, just go,” came her daughter’s voice. “I wasn’t asking you for help, I was just letting you know what happened. You didn’t need to come over.”
“You might not have been asking for help, but you definitely need it,” came the reply. Moira recognized the speaker as Adrian. “This place has been nothing but one disaster after another since I stopped helping you.”
“It’s not my fault, I think someone is trying to keep me from opening the store.”
“Let me come back as your business partner, and they won’t dare to mess with you,” he said. Candice laughed, her voice pitched high with stress and anger.
“What are you going to do, chase them away? Go Adrian, just go. We’re over. I won’t make the mistake of texting you again.”
Moira stepped out of the way as Adrian, his face red with anger, brushed past her. He ignored her c
ompletely as he stalked out of the building and disappeared around the corner. Frowning after him, she hurried the rest of the way back to the kitchen to make sure her daughter was all right.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Moira hung out with Candice after Adrian left until the repairman got there. The duct tape held, sort of. A steady stream of water still dripped from the pipe joint, but it was nowhere near as bad as the spray had been. There was a certain satisfaction in having held off the flood themselves, without help from either Adrian or David.
“Yep, it was definitely cut,” the plumber said once he had managed to get the water shut off. “Looks like you’ll need a new valve, too. Any idea who did this?”
“No,” Candice replied despondently. “None. This is just one of many bad things that have been happening around here lately.”
As Candice told the plumber about finding Matt dead in the kitchen—just a few feet away from where they were standing in fact—and the incident with her brakes, Moira walked around the kitchen looking for damage. Everything looked fine, other than the fridge which was sitting in a puddle of water and was suspiciously quiet. She opened it and sighed when she saw the melting ice in the freezer. Looking behind it, she saw that the plug was out of the wall and resting in a pool of water. There was a dent in the side of the fridge as if someone had kicked it.
“I’ll take a look at it once we get the floor dry,” the plumber said, following her gaze. “Best not to have it plugged in with the floor flooded anyway. Wouldn’t want to get electrocuted.”
Moira and Candice continued working on the floor as the plumber began taking measurements for a new pipe. The puddle of water was slowly shrinking, but the going was slow. If they had more than one mop, it would have gone much faster. As it was, they took turns mopping and using towels from Candice’s apartment upstairs to soak up what water they could. Once the towels were sopping wet, they took them outside and wrung them out.
Salami Murder: Book 8 in The Darling Deli Series Page 5
