Thin Crust Killers

by Chris Cavender

  “We can have one blown up and put a poster in the window here, too.”

  “That sounds good,” I said. “As a matter of fact, we’ll check with everyone on the promenade on our break today to see if they’ll advertise it, too.”

  “Don’t stop there,” Maddy said with a smile. “We can solicit donations from them, too. It would be good PR to have their names announced at the auction.”

  “What are we going to do for it?”

  She asked, “Do you mean besides running the whole thing?”

  “Come on, since this is our baby, we need to get behind it with everything we’ve got.” A moment later, I said, “We could offer a dinner for four here at the Slice.”

  “That’s good for a start, but we need to jazz it up some so we’ll get a few bidders. How about if we offer a romantic dinner for two, with our best table, and dessert catered from Paul’s?”

  “That sounds great,” I said. “You know what? This could be fun, but we can’t forget the real reason we’re doing this.”

  “Why can’t there be two reasons?” Maddy asked.

  “I can’t think of any reason there can’t be.”

  After the dough was resting and the toppings were prepped, Maddy looked expectantly at me. “Can we open that box now? It’s killing me, knowing that something in there might help us figure out who killed Hank.”

  “You’re as impatient as you used to be at Christmas,” I said.

  “That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” she said as she slit open the top with a kitchen knife.

  Inside, we found an orderly array of files and folders, all clearly labeled. “It appears that Hank was a neat freak.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “I was dreading sorting through shoeboxes and reading blurred ink on napkins.”

  As we sorted the contents of the box out on the table, it was clear that Hank had three cases that were still current. Maddy and I separated those, and then we put the rest back in the box for the moment, figuring anything marked closed was old news, and no reason to kill for.

  I picked up the first folder and saw Bailey Bradshaw’s name across the top. Bailey was an independent insurance agent in town. As a matter of fact, I’d known him for years. Not only was he my agent, he was also a good customer at the pizzeria.

  “Do we really want to do this?” I asked before I opened the file. “This could change the way we look at these people, whether they’re guilty of murder or not.”

  “We don’t have much choice,” Maddy said. “If we turn these over to Kevin Hurley, you know he’s going to discount the files as a motive.”

  “Maybe he’ll take them seriously if we ask him to,” I said.

  “I’ll look at them if they make you uncomfortable,” Maddy said, reaching for the folder. “I don’t mind knowing the dirt.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’m in this all of the way. Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

  I opened Bailey’s file and found neatly written notes detailing Hank’s investigation into Bailey’s life. It appeared that Bailey had a penchant for gambling that I’d never suspected, and from what I read, he owed Art Young quite a bit of money. How he was going to pay his debt was beyond me. It occurred to me that if Bailey had robbed the bank and shot Hank in the process, he could take care of both his major problems at once. Sure, it was a pair of desperate acts, but he was running out of options, according to the notes I was reading. Hank was set to deliver his report to Bailey’s boss in three days, a deadline he would never have the opportunity to make. Bailey’s physical appearance didn’t rule him out as a possible suspect in the robbery, either. As sad as it made me, it was clear that we were going to have to talk to Bailey about some uncomfortable things.

  I put the folder back into the pile and asked my sister, “What’s in that one?”

  She handed it to me, shaking her head. “No real surprise, it’s about marital infidelity. You’ll never guess who, though.”

  “Don’t make me guess,” I said. “I’m not in the mood.”

  “It seems someone suspected that there was a tryst between young Doctor Parsons and Missy Plum.”

  I couldn’t believe that. “Are you telling me our doctor is fooling around with the dance teacher? She teaches kids, for goodness’ sake.”

  “Apparently that’s not all she does,” Maddy said.

  “Please tell me there aren’t any photos in there.”

  Maddy said, “No, we dodged a bullet on that one, but it seems Angie Parsons suspects her husband is having an affair. She’s eight months pregnant, by the way.”

  “How do you know Angie hired him?”

  “It says so right here.”

  As I put the folder back down, I said, “Wow, this just keeps getting worse and worse.”

  “What did yours say, exactly?”

  “Bailey Bradshaw has a gambling problem, and he’s in debt to Art Young for a substantial amount of money.”

  “So he had two reasons to rob the bank,” Maddy said. “One to make enough to pay off your buddy, Art, and the other to eliminate the man investigating him. Wow, who would have ever believed that Bailey was capable of that kind of behavior.”

  “Don’t remind me. I’ve always liked the man. Who does the third file belong to? Do we really want to know?”

  “It can’t be helped,” Maddy said as she reached for it. I was quicker, though.

  I almost wished I’d let her win.

  Trent Caldwell owned the Timber Talk, our small-town newspaper that was cherished for its ads more than its content. Trent had long had delusions of grandeur, and would often boast that someday he would break a story big enough to get his weekly paper on the map. Our families had been holding an ongoing grudge for so long that no one still alive remembered why, but Trent was never on any of our guest lists, and he bought his pizzas in Hickory, even though it meant that he had to drive to get them.

  “What does his file say?”

  “That’s it,” I said as I held the empty folder open for her to see. “Hank never even got started on the case.”

  Maddy frowned. “There’s another option.”

  It took me a second, but suddenly I knew exactly what she meant. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “That depends. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m wondering if Trent got to it first and cleaned it out. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who paid Karen a visit last night with an ulterior motive.”

  “If Trent came, his name will be in Valerie’s guest book. You said she wouldn’t let you in until you signed in.”

  “We need to see that book.”

  Maddy glanced at the clock. “Everyone will be at the funeral. We could go by the house and check it now, and no one would be the wiser.”

  “Have you lost your mind? What do you think Karen would say if we got caught sneaking into her house? Hang on a second. Forget Karen. How do you think Kevin Hurley would react?”

  “He’d probably lock both of us up without a moment’s hesitation,” Maddy admitted. “But he’s at the funeral with Karen, so we’re safe. We don’t have a lot of time. What if Trent remembers he signed in and decides to steal the book after the funeral? There will be dozens of people at the house, so he’ll have easy access to it.”

  “Okay,” I said as I grabbed my car keys. “You’ve convinced me.”

  “We’re actually going?”

  “You bet, but we’d better leave right now before I lose my nerve.”

  “What about the pizzeria?”

  “I’ve got a little time while the dough’s rising, but we can’t take too long, or it will be a mess.”

  “Agreed. We get in, take the book, and get back out. No one needs to know that we’ve even been there.”

  As we drove to Karen’s place, I asked, “I’ve got one question for you. How are we going to get in if everybody’s at the funeral?”

  Maddy frowned. “I’m sure they keep a key somewhere near the front door. All we have to do is find it.”<
br />
  “What are the chances no one is going to see us snooping around the house?”

  Maddy took her eyes off the road for a second to look at me. “I never said the plan was perfect, Eleanor. Don’t worry, if we can’t find a key, then we’ll improvise.”

  “I don’t want to get caught throwing a rock through her window, that’s all I’m saying.”

  “It’s not going to be a problem.”

  “Throwing rocks?”

  “Getting caught,” she said. “I’m kidding,” Maddy added with a laugh.

  “I just wish I knew if that were true or not.”

  When we got to Hank’s place, there were a few cars parked in the driveway. Maddy said, “Look at that, all that worrying for nothing. We don’t have to break in. Someone’s already here.”

  “Which leads to a whole other set of problems, wouldn’t you say? How are we going to steal the sign-in book if someone’s here?”

  “Carefully, I’d have to say,” Maddy answered.

  We knocked on the door and rang the bell twice, but nobody answered. I suddenly thought of another explanation for the presence of cars parked there at the house. “Maybe they caught rides with other people.”

  “Maybe so,” Maddy said. “That means it’s Plan A, after all.”

  “I’m not about to let you throw a rock through the window,” I said firmly.

  “That’s not Plan A. It’s Plan B. Plan A is to hunt for a spare key, remember? Come on, Eleanor, you’ve got to keep up.”

  I looked around the porch. “Where exactly are we supposed to find this hidden key?”

  “If I knew that, it wouldn’t be a very good hiding place, now would it?”

  I decided to check under the floor mat, no matter how clichéd it might be. As I did, I leaned against the house, and inadvertently hit the doorbell yet again.

  There was no key under there, much as I’d suspected, but I was surprised when the front door opened.

  It was Jenny, one of Hank’s lady friends, and from the look of her eyes, she’d been crying when we’d interrupted her.

  “We rang and rang the bell. You’re not at the funeral?” Maddy asked after we were inside.

  “I couldn’t bear it,” she said. “I got there, parked my car in the lot, but I couldn’t go inside. Karen understood, so I came back here to get ready for the visitation after the service. What brings you two here?”

  I didn’t even wait for Maddy to answer that one. “We figured someone would be here, and we had a few minutes before we had to open, so we thought we’d come by and offer a hand.”

  “That’s so sweet of you girls,” Jenny said as she squeezed both our hands. “I could really use some help setting up the card table.”

  “I’ll be glad to,” I said. I was still a little uncomfortable stealing the sign-in book. If Maddy wanted it, she was going to have to do it herself.

  “It’s right here in the closet,” Jenny said.

  Which happened to be in the same room as the book.

  “Okay, let’s get it out,” I said.

  I tried not to watch Maddy as we took the card table out quickly. A little too quickly, I thought. There was no way my sister had time to take it without me seeing her do it.

  We set the table up, and then I asked, “Is there anything else we can do for you?”

  “No, I’m waiting to put most of the things out when it gets closer to time for folks to start arriving. I appreciate the help though. Now I know you two must be busy getting the Slice ready to open, so off you go. Thanks for coming by.”

  She ushered us to the front door, and I kept beating myself up that I hadn’t found a better way to distract her so Maddy could snag the book.

  Once we were outside, I said, “Sorry about that. It was a great plan. I just didn’t give you the chance to execute it.”

  “Says who?” Maddy asked as she lifted up the front of her sweater enough for me to see the edge of the sign-in book.

  “How did you manage that?”

  She grinned. “It was closer than I would have liked. Jenny looked at me just as I finished jamming it under, and I had to pretend that there was a pulled thread in my sweater. The woman may be in her late fifties, but she’s got the eyes of a teenager. I don’t think Jenny misses much, do you know what I mean?”

  “I still can’t believe we took it,” I said.

  “We? I don’t remember you taking any risks back there.”

  “Hey, I was the diversion, remember? That makes me just as guilty as you are.”

  Maddy shrugged. “Agreed. We share the credit, and we take the blame, equally. There’s no other way I’d want it.”

  “Me, either.”

  The second we were back in Maddy’s car, she pulled the book out from under her sweater. “That was killing me. One edge kept digging into my ribs with every step I took.”

  “That’s the price you pay for espionage,” I said. “Check the entries.”

  Maddy opened the book, and she started scanning the last few pages. After a few seconds, she shook her head.

  I could see the disappointment clearly on her face. “What’s the matter? Didn’t any of our suspects come by?”

  “That’s the problem,” she said as she handed me the book. “All of them did.”

  “But only Trent Caldwell’s file was empty,” I reminded her.

  “That’s true, but it doesn’t mean the others weren’t there looking for their own files as well. It just means Trent was more successful at it than the others.” She paused a second, then said, “Or less successful.”

  “What do you mean? There wasn’t anything in Trent’s folders.”

  “What if someone else took his file and the folder it was in, too? Actually, Trent was pretty sloppy leaving his folder behind. It had his name on it, for goodness’ sakes.”

  “So any one of them could have killed Hank,” I said as we headed back to the pizzeria. “Even if we weren’t able to find folders on all of our suspects, that doesn’t mean they’re in the clear.”

  “That’s the way it looks to me.”

  “You know, there’s a chance that none of them killed him,” I added. “That’s another possibility we’re going to have to keep in mind.”

  Maddy dismissed the thought with a wave in the air. “Thinking that way isn’t going to get us anywhere. We need to assume one of the people on our suspect list is guilty. If it’s not true, we’re not out anything, but if it is, it will mean a murderer is punished for what he did. Should we start with Trent? We can ask for some free ad space in his paper for the auction, and while we’re there, we can pump him for information about his file.”

  “You’re forgetting a few things,” I said.

  “What? Don’t you think we should start with him?”

  “Absolutely, but not right now. First off, everyone’s probably at the funeral, and that’s a bad place to corner suspects without the whole town knowing what we’re up to, including Kevin Hurley. The other thing is we’ve got a pizza place to run, and if we don’t go straight back and get things ready right now, we’ll never be able to open in time. Investigating is our hobby, but pizza is our living, and it’s important that we don’t forget that.”

  “Fine, we’ll talk to him later,” Maddy agreed. “It’s probably for the best, anyway. It will give me a chance to hone my story.”

  “You mean that it will give us a chance to hone our stories, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do. I’d never go off and investigate something by myself.”

  My laughter echoed in the car as she added, “You didn’t let me finish.”

  “So finish.”

  “Ever again,” she said, and we both laughed out loud. My sister had the capacity to drive me crazy more than I liked, but there was no denying I loved having her around, both at the Slice, and in my life.

  “Why aren’t you in school?” I asked Josh before I let him into the pizzeria a little bit later that day. We weren’t due to open for another thirty minutes,
and his mother and father had given me pretty strict instructions about when their son could work at the Slice.

  “Take it easy, Eleanor. It’s a half-day today, so I figured you could use me early. I wouldn’t be surprised if a bunch of the kids from the high school come by for lunch, so you might be glad to have the help.”

  “Thanks for thinking of me,” I said as I let him inside.

  “Are you kidding? I could use the money. My old beater of a truck is broken down again, and my folks aren’t going to chip in this time.”

  “You could always sell it and drive the Cooper they bought you.” Josh’s folks had bought him a car, but his mother took it away and granted its use like a tyrant, acting on her own whims and her skewed sense of what was right and wrong. Josh had abandoned it to them and had bought an old car to fix up in order to gain some semblance of independence. I hadn’t told him how I thought, not wanting to butt in, but I admired him for taking a stand.

  “I’d rather walk than drive that car,” he said. “That’s why I need the money to fix up Spot.”

  “You named your truck?”

  “Of course I did.”

  “Why Spot?” He had me curious, though I hated to admit it.

  “If you saw the hood of my truck, you wouldn’t have to ask me that. If I ever get enough money to paint her, I’m going to have to come up with a brand new name. Not that there’s any danger of that any time soon.”

  “Even if your motives aren’t altruistic, I’m still glad you’re here. Come back into my office for a second, would you?”

  “Why? What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I need a favor from you, so I’m not about to chew you out about something. Why do you ask? Have you done something you shouldn’t have lately?”

  “Do you honestly want to know the answer to that?”

  I smiled at him. “No, I just need the favor.”

  “That works out great then, because I’m good at favors. What did you have in mind?”