Beef Brisket Murder: Book 11 in The Darling Deli Series

by Patti Benning

  “Delusions?” echoed the deli owner. Did that mean that Reggie had just imagined everything he had told her? Maybe he didn’t actually have any information on the murder.

  “I’m less interested in what pill he took, than how he got it,” said Eli. “Everyone here is on a bunch of meds. If someone manages to get the wrong pill again, it could kill him.”

  “I’m very aware of that, and you can trust me when I say I will be launching a full investigation,” said the director. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’m very sorry this happened to Reggie, Eli.”

  “Thanks.” The young man gave a tired sigh and rubbed his eyes, then turned to Candice. “I’m going to head over to the hospital and see how he’s doing. Do you want me to drop you off at home first?”

  Candice shook her head.

  “No,” she said. “I’ll come with you.”

  The two of them bade goodbye and goodnight to Moira and left, leaving her and the director alone in the sitting room together.

  “This may not be the best time,” said the director after a moment, with a dry chuckle, “but I was hoping to get your card. We have a big event coming up next week, and I’ve been looking for a caterer that can work with specialized diets. You come highly recommended.”

  “Sure,” said the deli owner. “Here’s the deli’s card—you can call any time during the hours that we’re open. Either Darrin, my manager, or I will be able to walk you through our order forms. I would stay and chat with you about it tonight, but after everything that happened, I really just want to get home right now.”

  “I understand,” the director said. “I’ll give your store a call tomorrow. Have a good night, Ms. Darling.”

  Even though she was exhausted, Moira paused on the way out to check the guest book. She wasn’t prepared to believe that Reggie had imagined everything he had told her, and if there had been even a kernel of truth in his story, then she was determined to find it.

  Her efforts were rewarded, but despite the fact that she had found something linking the events of the evening to the skeleton in her basement, the names at the bottom of the sheet made her blood turn to ice. Jimmy and Daisha Hamel. The couple that had sold her her house had been visiting someone at Misty Pines just a few hours ago.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  She was already feeling testy and on edge when she got to work the next day. Reggie had survived the night, but according to Candice’s latest update, he was weak and struggling just to sit up.

  Late last evening after she got home she had called David to let him know everything that had happened. She had wanted to call the police then and there, but he had patiently pointed out that the normal line to the police station wouldn’t be open that late, and that this wasn’t exactly the sort of thing she was supposed to use 911 for.

  “But they could be the killers,” she had said, referring to Jimmy and his wife, Daisha, from whom she had bought the house. “And they might have poisoned Reggie!”

  “The only evidence you have is that they visited Misty Pines at some point during the day,” he had told her. “Yes, knowing everything you and I know, it’s suspicious. But it’s still not an emergency. Wait until tomorrow morning and call Detective Jefferson.”

  So that’s what she had done. However, the detective had merely listened to her story, given her a grunt of thanks, and hung up. She had fumed for a few moments before glancing at the clock and realizing that she had to go if she wanted to make it on time. A late boss would be nothing but a bad example to her employees.

  Now she was standing in the kitchen nearly in tears because she had knocked a bowl of freshly peeled carrots off the counter. It was just too much. People she knew were getting hurt, someone who had gotten away with murder for decades was still walking free, and of course whether the killer was ever caught, Meredith would still be dead.

  “Ms. D?” Darrin said tentatively, poking his head through the door that led to the front of the deli. Moira shook herself and straightened up. She must look a wreck, and she didn’t want her employees to start wondering what was wrong.

  “Yes, Darrin?” she asked after clearing her throat.

  “Someone’s on the phone for you. A Mrs. Radisson?”

  The director of Misty Pines, probably calling about the catering job she wanted Moira to take. She had almost forgotten about that. I suppose that’s the only silver lining right now, she thought. The deli’s reputation is doing nothing but growing.

  She took the call, leaving Darrin to re-peel another batch of carrots and start the soup.

  “Moira, I’m glad I caught you,” said the woman on the other end of the phone. “I know you said I could arrange things with the manager, but I really prefer talking to you. It’s your deli, after all. I’m sure you know your food best.”

  “Darrin’s very knowledgeable too,” Moira assured the other woman. “But I’m more than happy to talk with you. What sort of event is this going to be?”

  “It’s the anniversary of the founder of Misty Pines’ birthday,” the director replied. “She passed away quite a few years ago, but we still celebrate it every single year. It’s our big blowout—we always either pick up food from somewhere or cater, we have a mocktail bar, and a live band and dancing… well, you get the gist.”

  “It sounds like fun,” said Moira.

  “Oh, it is. For the residents.” Mrs. Radisson laughed. “It’s my job to make sure everyone gets to participate—and that no one eats or drinks something that’s going to put them in the hospital and/or get me sued. That’s where you come in. I’d like to email you a list of the foods that are ‘safe.’ Foods that almost all of our residents can eat with no problem. Then it will be your job to come up with easy-to-eat soups and finger sandwiches using only those ingredients. I know it’s asking you to design pretty much a whole new menu, and I’m prepared to pay extra for it.”

  “When is this party again?” asked the deli owner, starting to wonder what she had gotten herself into. Design a whole lunch menu for senior citizens? Doable—if she had enough time.

  “Next Friday,” came the reply. “So you’ll have about a week.”

  Moira closed her eyes. Why don’t people ever try to find caterers in advance? She wondered. She wasn’t eager to add more to her plate right now, but she felt like she had already pretty much agreed to do it. Besides, where else would Misty Pines find a caterer on such short notice?

  “All right,” she said to the other woman. “I’m happy to help. Just email me the list, and I’ll put something together.”

  They said their goodbyes and she put the store phone back in its cradle. When she went back into the kitchen to see how Darrin was coming along with the soup, she was surprised to see him leaning against the fridge, talking on his cell phone.

  When he saw her he quickly excused himself and hung up, then turned and opened the fridge as if that was what he had been doing all along. Normally Moira was okay with her employees using their phones if it was important or the day was slow, but with everything that had been going on lately along with the fact that he was being sneaky about it, she snapped.

  “What were you doing on your phone in the middle of a work day?” she asked him, stalking over to the stove and looking into the soup pot. “You didn’t even finish with the carrots! They take the longest to cook, and we can’t start serving the soup until they’ve softened. This isn’t acceptable, Darrin. Did I make a mistake when I made you manager?”

  He looked shocked at her outburst. She had never completely lost it with any of her employees before, and almost never had to give them anything more than gentle reminders.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. D, really. I didn’t mean to put off making the soup, but I had to take the call—”

  “Not while you’re at work you don’t,” she snapped. “I know I’ve been a very lenient employer, and I’m starting to regret it.”

  Darrin looked hurt, and at his expression she instantly regretted her words. What had gotten into her? She s
houldn’t be treating anyone this way, let alone one of her oldest and hardest working employees.

  “I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” she said quietly after a moment of stunned silence from both of them. “So much has been going on lately and I guess… I guess this was just the last thing I could take.”

  “It’s okay… I…I guess I really shouldn’t have been on my phone at work.” He hung his head. “I seriously didn’t mean to put off making the soup, I was just trying to deal with something for—well, it was time sensitive.”

  “It wasn’t even the phone call,” she admitted, embarrassed. “I mean, I take my phone out and text and call people all the time when I’m here, and I can’t really ask you guys to do any different. I was just taking my stress out on you, and it wasn’t fair.”

  Even though Darrin forgave her for her outburst, she couldn’t help but feel terrible about it for the rest of the day. What had gotten into her?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Over the next few days she forced herself to keep calm even when she was beginning to feel agitated. With Reggie still in the hospital, Candice worried and upset, and the police reporting absolutely no progress on the case of the dead girl, she had a lot on her mind. She saw Jimmy and Daisha walking down the sidewalk on Main Street once, and had to force herself not to pull over and ask them some probing questions about what exactly had brought them back to the town.

  The one positive point that week was her date with David. After having to reschedule it when she had had to rush over to Misty Pines and talk to Reggie, they had managed to find another night that worked for both of them. Moira just hoped that they had better luck this time. She stopped just short of turning off her cell phone. It was tempting, but she knew that if there really was some sort of emergency, she would never forgive herself if she missed the chance to help because her phone was off.

  Back at the Redwood Grill, their hostess the same girl from the other night, she had the strangest sense of déjà vu. She kept expecting her phone to go off while she was looking at the menu, but it remained silent as she placed her order with the water and turned to David.

  “I think we must break some sort of record for most interrupted dates,” she said jokingly. “I think we’ve had more dates that we’ve had to break off in the middle than dates that we’ve actually seen through to the end.”

  David nodded with a grimace. “I hate to admit it, but I think you’re right. Between our jobs, Candice, and the dogs, it’s a wonder we manage to have any time to ourselves at all.”

  The waiter brought their food as they chatted. David’s usual steak looked good as always, but Moira was even more impressed by her own meal; a thick slice of maple-glazed salmon on a bed of wild rice and portobello mushrooms. The first bite flooded her mouth with flavor, and she had to force herself to eat it slowly.

  “How are the dogs?” David asked her.

  “Good,” she said between bites. “I’m glad I have both of them, so that they can keep each other company while I’m busy. I always felt so bad leaving Maverick home all by himself.”

  “It’s good that they get along,” he said. “With dogs that big if they got into a fight you wouldn’t be able to stop them on your own. Do you still have that kid go and let them out on your busiest days?”

  “Logan? Yeah—he’s great.” She chuckled. “Actually, I might have made a mistake. I suggested to Candice that she hire him to work at her candy shop part time, and she texted me just before you picked me up saying that she had made her final decision and had decided to hire him for sure. My problem is that he won’t be available to work for me as often.”

  “It looks like your good deed backfired,” he said with a chuckle. “At least you know Candice’s first employee is someone trustworthy.”

  “True. And it will be nice for him to have a steadier job. I think he needs the money. It’s not like I can’t run home from work in the middle of the day and let the dogs out if I have to.”

  “See? Things have a way of working out.” He smiled at her. “You should take a breather after this last catering job on Friday. Let Darrin handle them for a while, and you just focus on de-stressing. Ever since you found that poor girl in your basement, you just haven’t had a break.”

  “I know.” She heaved a sigh. “Speaking of that… have you heard anything new?” She looked up at him hopefully, knowing that he would know that she was talking about the case.

  “Not from the police,” he said, picking at his food.

  “Oh.” She frowned at his word choice. “Have you heard something from someone else?”

  He sighed. “I’m not sure if we should talk about this during our date—”

  “Please, David, I have to know,” she said. “You don’t understand; it’s been eating away at me. She was found in my house. I know it’s ridiculous, but feel somehow responsible for her. If she hadn’t been killed, she would be almost my age by now.” She paused.

  “It could have been me,” she added in a small voice.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I can’t help thinking that if circumstances had been a little bit different, I could have been the one murdered, and she might have had a full life to live. We both came from Maple Creek, after all. I probably passed her in the halls back in high school.”

  She felt better having admitted what had been eating away at her at last. She didn’t expect David to understand that she felt guilty for living her life while this girl had had hers stolen away, but at least she had gotten it off her chest.

  “You can’t think like that, Moira,” he said quietly, covering her hand with his. “That’s just survivor’s guilt. It’s not your fault that she’s dead. In fact, remember: you’re the one who found her and brought her death to light. She wouldn’t have been discovered for years if not for you.”

  “Maverick was really the one who found her,” she said. “He knew there was something in the crawlspace, and wouldn’t leave it alone until I looked at it.”

  “He’s a smart dog,” the private investigator said with a smile.

  She returned his smile, then asked, “Will you tell me what you know?”

  “I suppose,” he said grudgingly. “It isn’t anything huge. I was doing some more digging the other night, on the previous owners of your house specifically. The couple that you bought it from, well… they bought the house back in 1989.”

  She blinked as it sank in.

  “So they did own the house during the time that Meredith went missing,” she exclaimed. “That means they have to be the killers.”

  “Hold on,” he said. “You never actually got confirmation that the dead girl was Meredith Franklin.”

  “Well, Reggie said it was,” she pointed out.

  “Yes, but he was suffering from a severe reaction to medication at the time,” he reminded her. “I wouldn’t exactly call him a reliable source of information.”

  She huffed, but knew he was right.

  “I looked through those old newspaper articles that Eli sent you, and Meredith was the last girl to disappear. All the others vanished before the Hamels bought the house, and if the skeleton belonged to one of them, then that would mean that Jimmy and Daisha certainly weren’t the killers.”

  “Who owned the house before them?” she asked.

  “The owner before them passed away three years ago,” he told her. “So if he was the killer, then this whole case is a dead end.”

  After they finished their dinner, David walked her out to the car. The rest of their conversation had been much lighter than their discussion about the dead girl, whom Moira was still thinking of as Meredith.

  “I had a nice time,” he told her.

  “Me too,” she said, smiling up at him.

  He gazed at her for a moment, then tilted her face up with a finger under her chin and pressed his lips against hers in a surprisingly slow, lingering kiss. The kiss made Moira’s entire body tingle, and she was sad when it was over.

  “See you this wee
kend?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” She grinned, still recovering from the kiss. “This weekend, definitely.”

  “Good night, Moira. Get home safely, and give Maverick and Keeva head skritches from me.”

  The private investigator stood patiently until she got in her car and started it, then waved at her and made his way across the parking lot to his own vehicle. Despite the dark conversation they had had earlier, Moira drove with a smile on her face all the way home.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The dinner date with David had brightened her mood significantly, and when she got out of bed the next morning not even the thought of spending the day double- and triple-checking for the catering job at Misty Pines could get her down.

  “I’m going to be pretty busy today and tomorrow, you two,” she told the dogs as she prepared their breakfast. “But after that, I promise that we’ll do some fun things. Maybe we’ll go to the park on Saturday; how would you like that?”

  Both dogs wagged their tails, but she figured that was probably more in response to the food that she was pouring in their bowls than to her actual words. She felt especially bad as she left them that morning—it was Logan’s first day of training at Candice’s Candies, and he wouldn’t have time to come over and play with them as he usually did. She had already scheduled a time to come back and let them out after lunch, but it still made for a pretty boring day for her two furriest family members.

  She got to the deli bright and early, and found herself enjoying the peace and quiet of being there alone. It felt like the old days, before she had begun expanding the hours and the menu, when only she, Candice, and Darrin worked there. Except now, of course, she had to prepare ingredients for a fresh batch of quiches, set out the makings for the daily soup and sandwich combo, and figure out why the coffee maker made an odd sound, but no coffee. Serving breakfast had been a great way to expand the deli’s number of regular customers, but it had definitely come with its own set of complications.

  Moira knew that she didn’t have Dante’s touch when it came to quiches, so she followed a simple recipe, made sure they had enough of the homemade hot sauce that many people liked with the little egg pastries, then got to work on the soup.