Very Veggie Murder: Book 3 in Papa Pacelli's Pizzeria Series

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Very Veggie Murder: Book 3 in Papa Pacelli's Pizzeria Series Page 4

by Patti Benning


  “What is it?” she asked, concerned.

  “Since they’re still investigating his death, Danny can’t have a funeral yet, but his mother is giving a memorial service this morning. I want to go… and I was wondering if you would go with me,” Darlene said.

  “Of course. When is it?”

  “It starts at nine-thirty,” her cousin said.

  That would give her just under an hour to get ready, but it should leave plenty of time for her to get to the pizzeria before opening. The last thing she wanted to do was spend the morning in a room filled with Danny’s grieving relatives—she already felt guilty enough for his death, and knew that she was likely to burst into tears at the memorial service—but felt that she owed it to him and to his family to go.

  “I’ll drive,” she offered. “Just let me go get dressed first.”

  It was a grey, dreary day with intermittent sprinkles, as if even the weather was grieving Danny Kork’s death. The two women drove through town in silence, Ellie lost in her thoughts, most of which involved wishing she could go back in time. She wished that she had never told Danny about the letter. Better yet, she wished that she had never found the letter in the first place. She didn’t want memories of her grandfather to be marred by the accusation of blackmail. Why, oh why hadn’t she just crumpled the paper up and tossed it in the garbage? Danny would still be alive, and she wouldn’t have the slightest inkling about Arthur Pacelli’s shady history.

  The memorial service was being held at a church in Benton Harbor. When Ellie and Darlene pulled in, the parking lot was already well over half full. Once they parked, they followed the flow of people inside, though they hardly needed the guidance; the correct room was clearly marked, and just outside the door was a picture of Danny standing in front of what Ellie assumed was his shoe shop. Next to his picture was a framed article that read, Local Shopkeeper Brutally Killed. They walked past it, through the door, and joined the people milling around the room.

  It didn’t take long before Ellie found herself at the table up front where, instead of a casket, a variety of memorabilia was laid out. More photos of Danny, from grainy photos of him as a baby to more recent, modern photos.

  “Look, that’s us,” Darlene said, pointing at an old photo of a boy and a girl about ten years old. Behind them was a sign that said Pine Cliffs Summer Camp.

  “Darlene?” a voice from behind them said. Ellie and her cousin both turned around. A woman who looked to be in her late sixties or early seventies was standing a few feet away. She was wearing an ankle-length black dress and her eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

  “Mrs. Kork?” Darlene said. “I’m so sorry about Danny.”

  The other woman nodded gratefully, though she was probably used to hearing condolences about her son by then. “I don’t imagine I’ll ever get used to it. No parent should have to bury their child. Part of me is glad my husband didn’t have to go through this.”

  There was an awkward moment of silence, with Ellie and Darlene both at a loss for words, and Danny’s mother gazing past them with a lost look in her eyes. The pizzeria manager watched her, wondering if Mrs. Kork knew that she, Ellie, had been the one to find Danny’s body. She definitely wasn’t eager to point out that fact if the older woman wasn’t aware of it.

  “Pardon me, are you Nancy Kork?” an elderly man asked, joining their small group. A younger man was at his elbow, looking uncomfortably around, obviously out of his element at such a formal occasion.

  “Yes, I am,” Danny’s mother said, turning to look at them. “How may I help you? Did you know my son?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did,” the elderly man said. Ellie judged that he was about the age her grandfather would have been—in his mid-eighties. He leaned on a cane for support, and the young man next to him held on to his elbow for good measure. “Danny used to work under me at the mill. He was a great addition to our workforce. Could really have gone far—in fact, we offered him a management job shortly before he left. I suppose it turned out that he made the right choice when he turned it down. The mill closed down just a few years later.”

  “I know he was always grateful for that job. It was his first real job, you know. It means so much to me that you remember him so clearly, Mr.…?”

  “Jack Evedale,” he said. “And this is my assistant, Terry.”

  “Nice to meet you,” said the older woman reflexively. “And thank you. It’s touching to know that my son made such an impression on you that you remember him even after so many years.”

  “He was a special young man,” Jack Evedale agreed. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Kork. We can only wish that things had been different.”

  The pizzeria manager, who had been listening intently to the conversation, felt a tug at her sleeve. She turned to face Darlene.

  “People are beginning to sit down,” her cousin said in a low voice. “I think we should join them.”

  Ellie looked around and found that nearly half of the seats had been filled already. She followed Darlene to an empty row near the back and sat down, her mind all the while on the conversation that she had been listening to. Was it possible that Terry was the “T” from the letter? It seemed like a reach, considering that he was so young. What on earth would her grandfather have been able to blackmail a man barely out of his teens about?

  CHAPTER NINE

  After the memorial service, Ellie had just enough time to drop Darlene off at the house before hurrying to the pizzeria. Jacob and Clara had already begun the process of opening, but at least she had arrived in time to help. She always felt bad when she didn’t do an equal amount of work around the pizzeria, though she knew that her employees probably preferred it when she wasn’t there and breathing down their necks the whole time.

  “Here’s my idea for next week’s special, Ms. Pacelli,” Clara said once Papa Pacelli’s was ready to open. “It’s an autumn garden vegetable pizza, with squash and mushrooms and a few other seasonal vegetables.”

  Ellie took the recipe from her employee and smiled. The pizza looked promising. She would be able to get a lot of the ingredients at local farmer’s markets—she knew her customers cared about supporting local businesses—and she was positive that this seasonal pizza would be a hit.

  “Looks good, Clara. I’ll pick up some ingredients before the weekend. Can you make a sample pizza and take a picture of it for the menu?”

  “Yep! I’m glad you like it.” She wrinkled her nose. “Clayton kept saying that squash shouldn’t go on pizza. But I think it will be good.”

  Clayton was the young woman’s boyfriend; he worked for a cold storage delivery company, and delivered their weekly supply of cheese.

  “We’ll be sure to give him a slice next time he drops off his delivery,” Ellie said. “I’m sure he’ll change his mind once he tastes it. Men can be stubborn, but it’s usually pretty easy to win them over with food.”

  “I’ve noticed,” her employee said, laughing. “Oh, that reminds me. Can I have the weekend after next off? He invited me to some family cookout thing at his uncle’s cabin in Canada. I know I’m supposed to ask two weeks in advance, but I just found out yesterday.”

  “I’ll have to take a look at the schedule…” the pizzeria manager began. When Clara’s face fell, Ellie sighed. “You know what, go ahead. We’ll figure something out.” She gave the young woman a smile, but mentally winced. She knew that she had probably just committed herself to working extra that weekend.

  I really need to hire another couple of employees, she thought. There are only four of us working here right now. We’re managing it, but it doesn’t exactly leave any room for emergencies or vacations. She knew that they couldn’t keep this up forever. Short term, her employees might appreciate the longer hours, or rather, the paychecks that came with them. Long term, it would begin to wear thin. The problem was, she didn’t have the faintest idea where to start in a search for responsible new employees. Should she post an ad in the newspaper? Or maybe the
internet would be better. She shook her head. It was a problem for another day. She had enough on her plate right now without adding a new employee to the mix.

  “Ms. Pacelli, you’ve got people here to see you!”

  Ellie jolted, nearly knocking the bowl of pizza sauce next to her hand over. She kept telling Jacob to come and get her if one of the customers wanted to speak to her directly, not shout it through the door. It was unprofessional, and it always made her jump.

  Annoyed, she put down the spoon that she had been using to spread sauce over the crust and hurried over to the sink to wash her hands. Then she forced herself to take a deep breath and smile. It wasn’t the customer’s fault that Jacob had startled her, and most of the time when someone asked to see her personally it was to tell her how good the pizza was, or to ask her a question about bulk orders for events. Whatever it was this time, she didn’t want to scare them away with a scowl.

  Instead of a happy customer, she was surprised to hear her aunt, uncle, and cousin all standing at the counter. Nonna was conspicuously missing, and Ellie’s first thought was that something bad had happened to her grandmother. Then she noticed the smiles on all three faces.

  “Surprise!” said Aunt Kathy. “Ma is at water aerobics, so we thought we’d surprise you with a visit before we go pick her up. Do you have time to eat lunch with us?”

  Ellie hesitated, then gave them a genuine smile. She wasn’t usually a fan of surprises, but this was a nice one. All three of them lived out of state now; the older couple in Florida to take care of Uncle Toby’s ailing father, and Darlene in Virginia with her husband. There was no telling when she would see them again after they left.

  “Sure,” she said. “What sort of pizza would you like? I can go throw it in the oven, then join you. Sit wherever you want.”

  “How about barbecue chicken?” Uncle Toby asked. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good barbecue chicken pizza.” The two women shrugged.

  “Sounds fine to me,” Darlene said. She still seemed subdued, and Ellie felt a surge of guilt once again. Danny’s death was her fault, whatever way she looked at it. How could her cousin ever forgive her?

  “One barbecue pizza coming up,” Ellie said in her cheeriest voice. “I’ll go put it in now. It should be about a fifteen-minute wait. Feel free to grab whatever you want out of the drink fridge. Lunch is on me.”

  The pizza was a success, and Ellie couldn’t help but smile between bites as she watched her family members dig in. She had gone with thin crust, figuring that would go over best with Darlene and Aunt Kathy, both of whom had grown up eating her grandfather’s thin-crust pizza. With just the right amount of sweet barbecue sauce, a gooey layer of Gouda cheese, red onions, and generous amounts of shredded chicken, even she had to admit that the pizza was darn near perfect, though she usually preferred the more classical red sauce variety—on a deep-dish crust, of course.

  “I’m glad you don’t have any restaurants down in Virginia,” her cousin said after her third slice. Ellie raised an eyebrow, and Darlene grinned. “Paul loves pizza, and yours really is some of the best I’ve ever tasted. If there were a Papa Pacelli’s near us, I don’t think I’d ever be able to convince him to bring anything else home for dinner.”

  “I hope he can come with you next time you visit,” Ellie said. She hadn’t heard much about her cousin’s husband yet, but got the feeling that he was busy with work more often than Darlene would have liked.

  “I’ll see if we can schedule something early next year. Maybe he can take some time off around Easter. He’s only ever been to Maine once. I’d love—”

  “Watch it!” Uncle Toby shouted, cutting her off. Ellie jumped and turned to see a terrified-looking Clara standing at his elbow. Toby’s bottle of soda was on the floor, spilling its fizzy brown contents across the wood.

  “I’m sorry,” Clara said, clapping her hands to her mouth. “I was just coming to see if you needed anything.”

  “You smashed into my elbow on purpose,” Ellie’s uncle said, his voice loud. “Get me a new soda. And clean up that mess!”

  Ellie gazed at her uncle in shock. His face was beet red, and he was glaring daggers at her employee. She stood up, sliding out of the booth and putting a comforting hand on Clara’s shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” she told the young woman. “I know it wasn’t your fault. Go ahead and take a break if you’d like. I’ve got this.”

  Clara safely out of the way, Ellie hurried toward the cleaning cupboard, still shocked by her uncle’s reaction and fuming at how he had treated her employee. Should she say something to him? Or would it be better just to keep her mouth shut until the older man was out of her hair?

  “We’ll schedule an appointment with your therapist when we get back,” her aunt was saying quietly to her husband when the pizzeria manager returned, mop in hand. “You haven’t had an outburst like that in a while. Have you been doing your breathing exercises, dear?”

  “Yes, I have, Kathy. This is not my fault!” her uncle said grumpily. “That girl should have been watching where she was going, clumsy fool.”

  Ellie kept her mouth shut as she mopped up the mess, but her mind was racing a million miles an hour. Did Uncle Toby have an anger problem? She remembered Danny asking if the “T” from the letter to her grandfather could have been her uncle. At the time, she had dismissed the thought, but now she wasn’t so sure that had been smart. If her uncle had issues with anger, then maybe he had done something in a fit of rage… something bad enough that her grandfather could have used it for blackmail.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Even after her family left, Ellie wasn’t able to shake the anxious feeling that had started when her uncle went off on Clara. The rest of the meal had been eaten in a frigid silence. Their goodbyes had been short and clipped, and the pizzeria manager was still toying with the idea of saying something to him when she got back to the house this evening. She did not want anyone to treat her employees poorly, let alone her own family.

  Yet, despite her anger, she kept her mouth shut even after getting home. A long walk with Bunny helped, mainly because by the time she got back she was too cold to think of anything but taking a warm bath. Thankfully, the bathroom that she was currently sharing with Darlene was unoccupied, and she was able to take a relaxing soak for as long as she wanted. She heard the rise and fall of voices downstairs, but was glad that she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She didn’t need any more stress for the day, and found herself even more eager than before for her extended family to leave. Just a few more days, she thought. Then there will be peace and quiet around here again. Not to mention, the bathroom will stop looking like a hurricane went through it every morning.

  After her bath, she retired to bed early, still not sure what she was going to say to her uncle, and deciding to leave it until morning. She expected sleep to come quickly after the busy, emotionally upsetting day, but it remained elusive. She just couldn’t stop thinking of her uncle’s angry outburst today, and her mind kept flashing back to Danny asking if the letter could have been from Tony. It was possible, of that she had no doubt… but judging from what she had seen today, her uncle wouldn’t exactly be open to answering questions about his past. She would have to do some digging on her own.

  With a sigh, Ellie gave up on sleep and got out of bed, doing her best to be quiet. Bunny, who had been dozing on the pillow next to her head, woke up and gave her a confused look, obviously wondering what her person was doing up at such an odd hour.

  “Shh,” the pizzeria manager said, holding a finger to her lips. “I’m going to the basement. Want to come with me?”

  The dog stretched lazily, then hopped off the bed, gave herself a good shake, and looked eagerly at the door, ready for whatever adventure they were about to embark on. Ellie smiled, grateful as always for the papillon’s companionship. At least she wouldn’t be completely alone while she dug through her grandfather’s old things in the basement, though
she doubted that the dog would be much help when it came to defending her owner against spiders and other nasty things.

  “We have to be quiet,” she whispered as she opened her bedroom door. “We don’t want to wake anyone.”

  She made her way slowly down the stairs, wincing each time a step creaked. After a quick stop in the kitchen to grab a flashlight from one of the drawers, she opened the basement doorway and urged Bunny down the steps. The little dog hesitated, knowing that she wasn’t usually allowed down there, but with some more urging finally began making her cautious way down. Ellie followed, closing the door behind her and sealing them both in utter darkness. She flicked on the flashlight and followed the dog to the bottom of the stairs.

  “All right,” she said in a whisper. “Let’s get to work.”

  One of the first things that she had done after moving in and taking over the study was to move the bulk of her grandfather’s files into storage in the basement. She had gone through them first, reading through anything that was relevant to the pizzeria, but the old man had kept records of everything, and the bulk of it she had overlooked, since it had nothing to do with Papa Pacelli’s. Now she was hoping that he had something about his son-in-law buried somewhere in all of the papers. Or failing that, something incriminating about someone else who had a name that began with “T.” Whether or not finding the person that had written the letter solved Danny’s death, she was determined to find out just what had driven Arthur Pacelli to blackmail someone.

  It took her hours, sitting on the basement floor on top of an old, musty wool blanket with Bunny curled up next to her thigh and papers spread out across her legs, to find what she was looking for. It was in a file folder dated three years before she was born—so over forty years ago. The label on it said simply T.D. Toby Dirschell. Feeling wide awake, Ellie opened it and shone the flashlight on the papers inside. The first thing she noticed was a picture of a young man who looked to be in his twenties; presumably, the younger version of her Uncle Toby. The photo was paper clipped to an article with the headline; Road Rage Leads to Fatal Crash.

 

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