Beef Brisket Murder: Book 11 in The Darling Deli Series

by Patti Benning

  “Well, she was the only one whose picture I remember seeing,” she told him. “Though I didn’t actually go through a lot of those papers. Other than that… well, I guess it’s just a feeling.”

  “You very well could be right,” he told her. “I’m going to do some calling around. Moira?”

  “Yes?”

  “Once you figure out who the dead girl was, you’re going to leave this case be, right?”

  “Of course,” she said. “Knowing who she was will give me closure, and I’ll leave the rest of it to the experts.”

  While waiting for David to call her back she took the dogs outside one last time before she locked up for the night. With the sun down, the air was almost chilly. The sky above the trees was clear, and she could see a few stars through the leaves. As she often did, she marveled at the beauty of her land, then sadly realized that it was likely a young woman had been murdered in this beauty. A young woman, who, if she had lived, would be about Moira’s age; they might even have attended the high school at the same time. It almost felt like she had been meant to find the body. After all those years missing, all those years resting in the stony dirt of the crawlspace, it was time that that poor girl had some justice.

  Her phone rang again just as she was getting back inside. She locked the door behind the dogs and answered the call.

  “They aren’t going to confirm anything,” David told her, sounding annoyed. “I called and spoke with Detective Jefferson. After telling him what you discovered, I asked him if they had had any luck identifying the body, and if so, if it was Meredith’s. He told me that he isn’t able to talk about the details of the case, thanked me, and hung up.”

  “I know that they have procedures to follow, but this is driving me crazy,” Moira said. “Thanks for calling, anyway. I guess I’ll just have to wait until they either solve the case or stop investigating to find out. And that could be months.” She groaned.

  “I can keep doing some digging around,” he told her. “Meredith’s family moved to the other side of the country years ago, according to a quick search, so that’s pretty much a dead end, but I’ll keep my eyes and ears open for anything that the police might let slip.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “You’re amazing. Sometimes I wish I had your skill set.”

  “No, you don’t.” He chuckled. “Trust me, being able to cook a delicious meal out of any set of ingredients is a far more useful skill to have. How did that fruity brisket soup go over at the deli, anyway?”

  Happy for the chance to chat with the private investigator, Moira made her way into the living room and settled into a comfy armchair. Keeva arranged herself on the rug in the middle of the room, while Maverick sat in front of the open window, his nose pressed against the screen.

  “People actually really liked it,” she told him. “I like cooking more exotic dishes like that occasionally. There aren’t a ton of ethnic food options in the area, and I think it’s a good thing to expand people’s horizons.”

  “You’re right about that,” he said. “We really need a Mediterranean place to open up nearby… or even some sort of Asian food place that serves something other than Chinese takeout.”

  “Oh, you love your Chinese takeout,” she told him, smiling to herself as she pulled a blanket over her legs. “It’s all you ever want to get when we order in.”

  “True.”

  She heard the grin in his voice, and her own smile widened. She enjoyed talking to him like this, and needed to remember to make time for it more often. He must have been thinking along the same lines as she was.

  “We haven’t really seen much of each other lately,” he said. “I miss you. Let’s get dinner together sometime soon.”

  “All right,” she said. “When?”

  “Tomorrow night?” he suggested. “I know it’s short notice, but I don’t have anything scheduled, and we can go to the Redwood Grill after the deli closes for the evening…”

  “Tomorrow sounds perfect,” she told him. “It’s a date.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Maybe it was because she hadn’t had much quality time with David lately, or maybe she was just in the mood to dress up a bit, but Moira went home early from the deli, leaving Meg and Dante to close without her, and used the extra time to dig her nicest clothes out of the back of her closet, pull her makeup bag out, and try on shoes until she found a pair of heels that she thought she could balance in well enough to not risk twisting an ankle. That’s all this date needs, she thought. A trip to the hospital.

  Her hair brushed, styled, and sprayed, her makeup just a bit more dramatic than normal, and her maroon dress fur-free, she felt ready for anything. Unlocking the door to greet David, she let the dogs rush out ahead of her, doing her best to avoid letting them touch her. Maverick’s fur especially showed up like nothing else on her dress, and she had just spent a painstaking twenty minutes brushing a lint roller all over it, then avoiding touching anything in her house that might transfer the dreaded fur back to the soft fabric of the dress.

  “You look amazing tonight,” David said once he got a chance to focus on her instead of the German shepherd and Irish wolfhound who had greeted him so enthusiastically. “I mean, you always look amazing, but something about tonight is special.”

  “I had a little extra time to prepare,” she told him, hoping that he couldn’t see the blush rising on her cheeks in the dim porch light.

  “You make me feel like I should have worn something nicer.” He smiled and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Are you ready to go? I called and asked the hostess to save our table for us.”

  “Just let me put the dogs inside and grab my purse. I’ll be right back out.”

  The Redwood Grill was their favorite destination for dinner dates. Owned by Moira’s friend Denise Donovan, it was a classy steakhouse that served a wide variety of food. If it could be broiled, grilled, or baked on a cedar plank, then the Grill probably had it on its rotating menu at some point. With two chefs and a double handful of employees, it was definitely a larger-scale restaurant than the deli, but the quality of the food was just as good. Like Moira, Denise tried hard to order what supplies she could from the local farmers, though there was no getting around shipping some things, like lobsters.

  Moira had gone to the steakhouse nearly every week since the night it opened, though sometimes she went just to see her friend. If she let herself, she would have eaten there all the time; however, the food was expensive, and the calorie count wasn’t low either. Tonight, however, she wasn’t going to worry about price or how many calories she was eating; she was determined to let nothing get in the way of her enjoying a date with her boyfriend.

  The hostess seated them at their normal booth and promised that their waiter would be right with them. Moira perused the menu, but she was already pretty certain she knew what she wanted. She liked to try something new each time she visited, but occasionally she preferred to sick with her old favorites.

  “How is work going?” she asked David when he put down his own menu. “Any interesting cases?”

  “Not really,” he admitted. “Nothing as interesting as what you managed to get yourself involved in, anyway.”

  “Speaking of that,” she said, breaking her promise to herself not to think about the dead girl during their date. “Have you heard anything new about the case?”

  “Sadly, no,” he said. “I was at the station the other day to help a client file a restraining order against someone, and when I asked my usual guys, even they wouldn’t tell me. I guess this is a pretty big case. Jefferson seems to think they might be able to use the new evidence surrounding the girl’s death to unearth a serial killer.”

  “I hope the investigation is fruitful,” she said. “Anyone who would knowingly take the life of one girl her age, let alone all of the others he may also have been killed, deserves to be brought to justice. I just can’t stop thinking about the future she may have had.”

  She was about to say more, but was
distracted by the sound of her cell phone buzzing in her purse. Shooting an apologetic glance at David, she pulled it out and rejected the call. Candice’s name disappeared off the screen, and Moira felt an instant of guilt. She’s an adult, she reminded herself. I can go out on a date without feeling guilty. And if it’s really important she’ll call again or text me. Sure enough, she had just started talking again when the phone buzzed a second time.

  “Sorry,” she said to David. “It’s Candice. I should check it.”

  “I don’t mind,” he said with a smile. “It’s not like I’ve never had to take a call while we’re out.”

  Glad that he understood, Moira pulled up the text message and read through it quickly.

  Call me! We need your help.

  Simple and to the point, the message didn’t really say what the problem was. It could be as simple as Candice wanting a recipe for something, or as urgent as a broken bone. Either way, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to relax until she called her daughter back. She excused herself from the table, told David what she wanted to eat in case the waiter came while she was away, and stepped outside.

  “What’s going on?” she asked her daughter, trying not to sound annoyed. One nice date with David. Was that too much to ask?

  “Eli’s grandfather is freaking out, and he says he won’t rest until he can talk to you. His room is already completely ransacked, and he doesn’t want the nurses anywhere near him. I know it’s not your responsibility, but he’s adamant that he needs to talk to you, and Eli says it’s really bad for him to be so agitated.”

  It looked like it was.

  “All right, let me just tell David what’s going on and I’ll be right over,” she said.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” the private investigator asked when she relayed the story back to him.

  “No,” she said. “I feel bad enough ducking out like this. You should stay here and enjoy the food. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Okay…” he said reluctantly. “I hope everything is all right.”

  “Me too.” She bent over to kiss his cheek, then grabbed her purse off the table and took a couple of steps away before pausing mid-stride and turning back to look at him. “I’m really sorry, David. I’ll make it up to you sometime, I promise.”

  “It’s not a problem, Moira, honestly. We’ll just reschedule for some other night.” He gave her a reassuring smile and, feeling slightly better now that she was certain the private investigator wasn’t upset, she turned back around and walked the rest of the way out of the restaurant and to her car. Having no idea what to expect at Misty Pines, she put her car into gear and drove into the night.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A nurse let her in the second set of doors and waved a hand to cut her off when she began to introduce herself.

  “Eli told me you’d be coming,” she said. “Come on, they’re in Reggie’s room.”

  She followed the nurse through the halls, past a courtyard and a small sitting area, to an open door through which she could see Eli and her daughter. Candice was sitting on the bed looking worried, and Eli was crouching next to the chair in which Reginald was sitting, talking to him quietly. When the elderly man saw Moira watching him through the door, he perked up. Candice followed his gaze and rose when she saw her mother.

  “Thanks for coming,” she said quietly as the nurse walked away. “We can’t make head or tails of what’s going on. He just keeps asking for you. The nurses are concerned about his behavior, so as soon as he calms down they’re going to come in and sedate him before he hurts himself.”

  “I don’t have any idea what to say,” the deli owner whispered back, “but I’ll do what I can to help.”

  She walked into the room, and was surprised by how messy it was. The closet doors were flung open and clothes were strewn everywhere. The garbage can had been upended, and the sheets were torn off the bed. It looked like someone had come in and purposely wrecked the place. Feeling nervous, she approached the old man in a chair, giving Eli a nod as she knelt down.

  “Hi Reggie,” she said. “What’s going on? Candice told me you wanted to see me.”

  Eli’s grandfather looked even older than he had the first time she met him. His eyes were confused, and he looked at her without recognition for a moment. She was surprised to see that his hands were shaking. That’s odd, she thought. He seemed to healthy before. Maybe his little walk into the woods took more out of him than I thought.

  “Moira?” he asked at last, relief coming into his watery eyes as he placed her face.

  “Yes,” she confirmed. “It’s me. You wanted to talk?”

  “I wanted to tell you about…” His eyes narrowed and darted around the room. “You two, leave. Can’t an old man have some privacy?” His voice was sharp, and a surprised Candice traded a glance with Eli before standing up and leaving the room.

  “We’ll be right outside the door,” Eli said over his shoulder. “Call out if you need me to come back in.”

  Alone with Reginald, the deli owner couldn’t help but feel nervous. He was obviously in some sort of distress, and she didn’t know how to act around him. Should she humor him, or just cut to the chase and ask him what was wrong? Her own parents had passed suddenly years ago, so she didn’t have any experience when it came to caring for the elderly.

  “What did you want to say, Reggie?” she asked him softly after a moment of silence had passed. “Did something happen?”

  “It’s about the girl,” he said. “I know who killed her.”

  “Meredith?” Moira asked, her eyes going wide. Even though the police had yet to confirm who the dead girl had been, she had convinced herself that the body was that of Meredith Franklin. When Reggie nodded, she knew that she had been right.

  “Who did it, Reggie?” she asked. “And how do you know?”

  “I remember…” he frowned and trailed off, mentally chasing after a memory, and a terrible thought occurred to Moira. What if he was the killer? How else would he know the identity of the dead girl? After all these years, what if he was ready to come clean?

  But then the old man sighed and shook his head. “Darn this old brain. It hasn’t been working right lately. He told me. He told me all about it, but now I can’t remember what he said.”

  “Who told you?” Moira asked.

  “A man… I know him.” Reggie frowned and looked at his hand, which was shaking even worse than it had been just a few minutes ago. “I know him, I swear I do, but his face keeps getting all muddled up. He came in here and told me about it. He messed up my room, then gave me a pill that wasn’t one of my normal ones. I remember that, but the details are all fuzzy.”

  “You didn’t do this?” she asked, looking around at the ransacked room.

  He shook his head. Moira thought fast. Was there a chance that whoever had done this was still around? If so, then the best course of action would be to call the police right away. With Reggie’s help, they might be able to find the killer tonight. Then she looked at the old man, who was gazing blankly off into the distance. He looked exhausted, he could barely remember what had happened earlier. He had barely even recognized her. She doubted that the police would be able to get anything out of him tonight, and even if they could, the interrogation would just wear him down even further.

  She was still mentally struggling with what the right decision might be when the choice was taken away from her. With a soft cry, Reginald slid from his seat and began seizing on the floor.

  Chaos ensued. Panicked, the deli owner shouted for Eli, who opened the door in a rush. He froze only for a second, his eyes quickly taking in the situation. As soon as he realized what happened, he turned and ran down the hallway, calling for a nurse. Candice stood horrified in the doorway, and Moira felt just as frozen. She knew that it was almost never a good idea to restrain seizure victims, but it was also important to keep them from injuring themselves. Snapping out of her paralysis, she shoved the armchair backwards so he wou
ldn’t flail into it, then backed up herself as a nurse came rushing into the room.

  “Call an ambulance,” she snapped to the room in general as she knelt beside Reginald. Eli pulled out his phone and began dialing the three digits that everyone knows by heart.

  As the ambulance pulled away, Moira put a comforting hand on Candice’s arm. Her daughter’s face was streaked with tears.

  “He’ll be okay,” she said.

  “I hope so.” The young woman sniffed.

  “How did this happen?” Eli asked the nurse who had helped the paramedics stabilize Reginald and load him into the ambulance. For the first time since she had known him, Moira saw a glint of anger in his eyes. “This is twice my grandfather has almost died due to a mistake on your part.”

  “I don’t know how he got the wrong medication,” the woman said. Her eyes were sad and sincere. “I didn’t pass the pills out today. I’m sure it was just an accident, or maybe he found one that someone else forgot and took it without thinking. We might know more when the doctors finish their tests. If we know what kind of medication it was, we might be able to figure out where it came from.”

  “From his reaction, and considering the other medication he’s on, my guess is it was some sort of dopamine agonist,” said the director, a middle-aged woman with short hair who had come rushing as soon as she heard the commotion in Reginald’s room. When they looked at her blankly, she added, “Parkinson’s medication.”

  “How do you know?” Moira asked, surprised. The director grimaced.

  “I worked in the ER for ten years, hon. You’d be surprised how many kids try to get high by taking a handful of their parents’ pills. Parkinson’s medication can affect memory and motor control, and side effects include hallucinations and delusions. Some of the medication that Reginald is on is known to react poorly with dopamine agonists, which is what probably caused the seizure and likely aggravated the side effects.”