The good thing about being the boss was that she couldn’t get fired for being late. If she could, she reflected, she would have long since been let go. At least her employees knew their way around the pizzeria and could handle pretty much anything the day threw at them without her input.
Papa Pacelli’s was unusually busy when she walked in. Both Rose and Clara were in the kitchen, which wasn’t normal; only one employee was usually needed in the kitchen at a time. They both seemed relieved to see her, which she also found odd. She didn’t think that any of her employees particularly disliked her, but she never got the feeling that they particularly enjoyed having her there either.
“We’ve got a big party eating in,” Rose explained as she hurried past with a plastic bin full of shredded cheese. “I think it’s one of their birthdays.”
Curious, Ellie put her purse and jacket away and stepped through the kitchen doors to the dining area. Sure enough, a large group of college-age young men were sitting in the corner. They had pulled a couple of tables up to a booth, making enough room for all of them. She was surprised to find that she recognized one of them; Terry, the old man’s assistant from the memorial service. He met her gaze, and she was certain that he recognized her, too. She gave him a small wave, feeling a bit bad for ever having suspected him as Danny’s murderer. He looked younger than ever now; he couldn’t have been much more than a year or two out of high school.
As they served the party pizza after pizza, Ellie had to admit that she was glad it wasn’t this busy every day. They would need more ovens if it was. It seemed like ages before the party finally got up to leave. The pizzeria manager breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the register as she watched them begin to walk out the door in ones and twos. She was surprised when Terry walked over to the register.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” he said in a low voice with a nervous glance over his shoulder, as if worried that his friends were going to leave without him.
“Thanks, Terry,” she said, giving him a small smile. “You have a nice day.”
He hesitated. “You, too,” he said after a moment before turning around and hurrying to join his group.
It’s too bad he already has a job, Ellie thought as she watched them leave. I really could use a nice kid like him here at the pizzeria.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A soft whine sounded next to Ellie’s ear. She turned her head to the side, struggling to hold on to sleep. Only when something cold and wet touched her face did she open her eyes.
“What is it, Bunny?” she muttered. “Do you have to go out?”
The dog whined again, a soft whimpering sound that Ellie hadn’t heard her make before. She sat up, reaching for the bedside lamp as she glanced at the clock. It was slightly past midnight.
“Are you okay?”
She turned to look at her dog in the light, wondering if she had somehow missed an injury during her cursory examination after she found the papillon in the woods. Seeing that she was finally awake, the dog jumped off the bed and began scratching at the bedroom door. Maybe she ate something that didn’t agree with her while she was outside, the pizzeria manager thought. Not wanting Bunny to have an accident, she hurriedly pulled her slippers on and ushered the dog through the door.
Instead of running to the back door, the papillon surprised her by heading instead to the living room. Ellie paused just beyond the door. A soft glow was coming from within. Was someone in there? Not sure what to expect, she braced herself and rounded the corner. Her grandmother was sitting on the couch, and Bunny was perched on the cushion next to her, head on her leg.
“Oh, Ellie, I’m sorry if I woke you,” Nonna said. She wiped a hand across her face, and Ellie realized that she must have been crying. She looked down and saw a photo album in her grandmother’s lap.
“It’s all right, Nonna. What’s wrong?” She sat down on the couch on the other side of Bunny, concerned for the elderly lady.
“I just miss him,” she said, gazing down at the photo album. Ellie recognized her grandfather in some of the pictures. “I know we were lucky to get as many years together as we did, but I was hoping for so many more. I know we were both getting up there in age, but still… his death was so sudden.”
Ellie froze. She had never really heard much about her grandfather’s death before, and had never asked about it, not wanting to make things harder for her grandmother. She wondered, for the second time, if the person who had written her grandfather that note had somehow also been responsible for his death.
“He didn’t… have any heart problems or anything?” she asked tentatively.
“He had high cholesterol, but he took medicine for it,” Nonna said. She heaved a tremulous sigh and shut the photo album. “It must have been his time to go, that’s all.” She gave a faint smile. “Did I ever tell you about the night that he passed away?”
Her granddaughter shook her head.
“I woke up in the middle of the night, certain that I had heard a man’s voice,” Nonna said. “Art wasn’t next to me, which wasn’t too unusual. He wasn’t a very deep sleeper, and suffered from insomnia for the last few years. Anyway, as I lay awake, waiting for him to come back to bed, I could swear I heard that voice again. I wondered if Art was on the phone, and decided to go and see who it was.” She took a deep breath. “But when I got to his study, I found him already gone. I‘m convinced that the voice I heard was his spirit, telling me goodbye for the last time.”
Tears filled her grandmother’s eyes again, and Bunny snuggled closer to her, doing her best to comfort the old woman. Instead of sorrow at her grandmother’s story, Ellie felt as if her veins had suddenly filled with ice.
That voice hadn’t been her grandfather’s ghost saying one last goodbye to his wife. No, someone else must have been in the study with him. And that meant her grandfather must have been murdered.
After walking her grandmother back to her bedroom, Ellie took Bunny upstairs and sat down on her bed. After a moment’s thought, she stood up, locked her bedroom door, and sat back down again. What was she going to do? This wasn’t just about Danny anymore. Someone had killed her grandfather, too. And if her hunch was right, that someone was snoring not too far away from her at this very instant. How could she be expected to spend the night in the same house as Uncle Toby, let alone the next two days? Surely this counted as proof, didn’t it? Would the sheriff be able to do anything?
She glanced at the clock, her fear battling with her desire not to be rude. It was past midnight. She should probably wait until morning to call Sheriff Ward. On the other hand, he might be upset if she knew where a killer was, but waited hours to report it. She bit her lip, torn with indecision. At last, fear won out. She wouldn’t be able to stand staying in the house with Uncle Toby all night; her nerves were already frayed as it was. The sooner he got arrested, the better, as far as she was concerned.
Picking up her cell phone, Ellie scrolled through her contacts until she found his personal number. She hit the call button and put the phone to her ear, hoping against hope that he was still awake.
“Hello?” a sleepy voice answered. She winced. He definitely hadn’t been awake.
“Hi, Sheriff Ward,” she said, keeping her voice quiet. “It’s Eleanora Pacelli.”
“Pacelli?” There was a rustling sound, and she imagined him sitting up in bed. He sounded more awake when he spoke again. “What is it?”
“My grandfather was murdered,” she said. “My uncle did it. I have proof.”
At his request, she relayed the conversation that she had had with her grandmother only minutes before to him. He didn’t seem quite as impressed with the information as she had imagined.
“What’s your proof?” he asked when she had finished.
“I just told you,” she hissed. “My grandmother heard voices the night that he died. He can’t have been alone. Someone must have been in the study with him. Someone killed him!”
“Ms. Pacelli, when I ask for proof,
I’m looking for something solid. Fingerprints. A bloodstain. Maybe some nice photographic evidence. A voice heard in the middle of the night by a woman well into her eighties is hardly incriminating. Did she hear what the voice said? Was the person speaking having a conversation?”
“I don’t think she could make out what they were saying, no,” Ellie said. “And she only ever said that there was one voice. A man.”
She could hear him take a deep breath over the phone. “And did it occur to you that this mysterious voice could simply have been a dying man trying to call out for help?”
Ellie fell silent, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. He was right, and she knew it. She had jumped the gun on this one. There was still nothing to tie Toby to either crime, and she had just woken Kittiport’s sheriff in the middle of the night for nothing.
“I’m sorry,” she said, defeated. “I shouldn’t have called. But Uncle Toby is guilty, I just know it. Everything fits—he would have been able to put the letter in the mailbox without anyone noticing, and he would have had ample time to go through my study, even with the other women in the house. No one would have noticed; I’m usually the only one that goes in there.” Something else occurred to her, and she sat up straighter. “And Marlowe—the parrot—she hates him. She won’t stop screaming while he’s around. My grandfather kept her in his study; if someone had killed him, she would have witnessed it.”
“You’re telling me that your bird witnessed a murder, understood what had happened, and still hates the person responsible months later?”
“Macaws are very smart and have terrific memories,” she said. “I think she would have realized what was going on.”
He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a chuckle. “You are very determined, aren’t you?”
“I don’t want to see a murderer walk free,” she said. “Do you?”
“I can’t do anything without some sort of evidence,” he told her again. “I can’t arrest a man with no connection to the murder scene and no motive beyond the contents a mysterious note that he might or might not have written. Everything you’ve told me is speculation. I’m not saying I don’t believe you—I’m not necessarily saying that I do, either—but I definitely can’t act on it.”
“Can’t you bring him in for questioning?”
“I could question him about Danny’s death. That would be reasonable, considering that the victim had dinner with your family the night before he died. I don’t know if that would do much good, though. I wouldn’t legally be able to hold him, and if he is guilty, it might put him on his guard.”
“What if,” Ellie began, her mind racing, “you could question him while he was off guard, relaxed, and slightly drunk?”
“What are you talking about?”
“We’re having a dinner tomorrow night—it’s supposed to be the big goodbye dinner before they leave. Nonna’s making lobster, and there will be wine and beer. He almost always has something to drink with dinner, and he tends to get kind of loud. You could ask him questions, try to get him to confess something incriminating, and if he does, arrest him on the spot.”
“That could be considered entrapment,” he said. “I like the way you’re thinking, but we’ve got to keep this by the books. And he wouldn’t be at all suspicious that the sheriff just happens to be having dinner with you?” Russell asked, sounding amused. Ellie guessed that he was thinking that she was getting ahead of herself again, but this time she had a plan. She grinned.
“Not if you’re my date. Is it entrapment if you come over for dinner and just happen to hear something that incriminates him?”
“No,” he said after a pause. “I guess not.” She couldn’t tell from his voice what he was thinking. Had she convinced him?
“Sheriff Ward, will you be my date to dinner tomorrow night?” she asked, reflecting that this was the first time that she had asked out a man since before she had started dating Kenneth. It was almost a pity that it was for a fake date.
“Oh, all right,” he said. “I’ll be there. But you’d better start calling me Russell.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ellie spent most of the next day avoiding her uncle as much as she could. She took Nonna shopping with her, unwilling to leave the defenseless old woman at home with a killer, and when they returned laden with groceries, she volunteered to put them away on her own. The question of how to broach the subject of her bringing a date to dinner was nagging at her. Darlene had made it clear through a series of text messages that she would not be joining them for dinner, though she had promised to pick her parents up early the next morning for their trip back down to Virginia. No one was in a particularly good mood—by then it was obvious that something had happened between Ellie and her cousin, though it seemed that no one knew for sure what, and she was more than happy to keep it that way.
Finally, she caught Nonna alone and broached the subject of Sheriff Ward coming to dinner—or Russell, as she had to remember to call him.
“I think that’s wonderful, dear,” her grandmother said with a genuine smile. “I’m so happy that you’re starting to be comfortable with dating again.”
That left Ellie feeling worse than ever. She hadn’t told an outright lie, but she had definitely misled her grandmother into thinking that she was romantically involved with someone. After all of this is over, I’ll tell her everything, she promised herself. No more sneaking around.
She was relieved when it was time to start making dinner. Uncle Toby, who had no interest in cooking, was in the living room watching television, leaving the three women in the kitchen together. Aunt Kathy and Nonna tried to keep things fun and lighthearted, but Darlene’s absence was conspicuous and brought them all down. For her part, Ellie was just counting down the minutes until Sheriff Ward arrived. She was positive that nothing bad would happen with him around. And if it did, well, he would be able to take care of it. It was doubly comforting to know that regardless of what happened tonight, by this time tomorrow, she would no longer be sleeping with a murderer in her home.
When the doorbell rang at last, Ellie rushed to answer it. She smiled at the sheriff, noting that he had dressed up for the occasion. She had only ever seen him in his uniform, or in his fishing gear, and he cleaned up nicely. She realized for the first time that pretending that he was her date had the potential to be more than a bit awkward. We’re just doing this to catch a killer, she reminded herself. At the very least, I highly doubt that Uncle Toby will try anything with him here.
“Come on in,” she said, giving him a smile. “Dinner is nearly ready.”
“It smells great,” he said. “Did you cook?”
“I helped. My grandmother was the mastermind. She has a way with lobster. I was on pasta duty.”
“Sounds like a family effort,” he said. He followed her indoors, then crouched down to greet Bunny, who seemed to have taken a liking to him. Probably, Ellie figured, because he had had a hand in saving her not once, but twice.
There were an awkward few minutes while they sat in the living room with her aunt and uncle, until at last Nonna announced that they could sit down. They were eating in the formal dining room, not the cozy breakfast nook in the kitchen where Ellie was used to taking her meals. The table was large enough to seat twice their number comfortably, and once again she was struck by the absence of Darlene. She was surprised that her cousin was missing this. Her theories must have really upset her cousin when they’d argued.
Despite the thousand worries that were weighing her down, Ellie couldn’t help but notice that the meal was absolutely delicious. The lobster was cooked to perfection, and even the pasta she’d made had turned out better than she expected. She had been afraid that the alfredo sauce would be her stumbling point, but it was actually some of the best that she had ever tasted: smooth, creamy, and the perfect accompaniment to the lobster tail. The salad was her aunt’s invention. Kale, arugula, and a variety of other dark greens dressed with a champagne vinaigrette made a refreshin
g side to the heavier flavors of the main course. A bottle of her grandmother’s favorite chardonnay sat on the table, and Ellie watched eagerly as her uncle poured his first glass.
“Wonderful meal, ladies,” he said, raising his glass in a toast.
“I just wish Darlene was here to enjoy it,” Kathy replied with a sigh.
Uncle Toby’s brow furrowed, and he shot Ellie a look. She still didn’t know for sure if he knew what had gone on between the two women, but if he did then he was the world’s best actor, because he had been acting just as confused and curious as everyone else.
“So how long have to two of you been seeing each other?” her aunt asked, clearing her throat and turning her attention to Russell.
“Not very long,” he replied with a glance at Ellie. “We first met a couple of months ago.”
“Well, I hope you have many more happy months together,” Kathy replied with a smile. “We all know her history. She could do with a good, sensible man in her life.”
Ellie coughed, frantically searching around for a new subject to bring up. “Aunt Kathy, how do you like Florida? What’s it like this time of year? I’ve never been there.”
“Oh, it’s very humid, and the summer is relentlessly hot. I have to say, I don’t miss the snow, though, and the Everglades are just beautiful.”
“I don’t like it much myself,” her uncle said. “It’s too touristy. I keep trying to convince Dad to leave his house and move somewhere else, but he refuses. That in-home care of his is costing him a pretty penny, that’s for sure.”
“Oh, you don’t live around here?” Russell asked, raising an eyebrow. “How long have you been out of state?”
Very Veggie Murder: Book 3 in Papa Pacelli's Pizzeria Series Page 6
