Thanksgiving Deli Murder

by Patti Benning

  “Sure, what is it?” Allison asked.

  “It’s not about what happened today,” Moira assured her. “It’s about Thanksgiving. I was thinking of inviting you and your aunt over to my house for dinner with David, Reggie – that’s Eli’s grandfather – and me. I thought would be nice to do something together.”

  “Okay, that sounds nice, I guess,” Allison said

  “Okay, I’ll clear that with your aunt. Go on and get some rest at home,” she said. “Hopefully tomorrow will be better for all of us.”

  Alone in the deli, Moira realized that David had no idea what had happened. She called him, but he didn’t answer. With a sigh, she left a message on his voicemail. She felt as if she was running out of people to turn to. Not only that, but everything she got involved in seemed doomed to suffer some sort of disaster. True, it hadn’t been her fault that Candice’s candy shop had burned down, but she had been married to Mike back when he had had the affair with Allison’s mother. She should have known that something was going on. She should have had the sense to see what was wrong with their relationship back then, but she had been too blinded by love. And of course, yesterday it had been her idea to take that walk in the woods. If they had just stayed home, then David would never have had to watch a man die right in front of him.

  And now, this. She should have told Detective Jefferson right away when that strange man had come into the deli. She hadn’t, and now someone had almost broken in in broad daylight, and had terrified her employees. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. How was it that she couldn’t seem to be able to do anything right anymore?

  Frustrated, Moira sat down at the counter with her tablet, playing the security footage again. It didn’t show anything new the second time around, or the third. She exited out of the program, wishing that she could do something to help fix at least one of the problems. Allison would have to come to terms with things in her own time, as would David. Maybe, however, she could do something about that poor man who had died. Candice was right; she should look up his name and see what he had been involved in. Maybe it was an accident after all, or maybe it was murder.

  She typed the dead man’s name into the search engine and waited as her Internet loaded the results. She was surprised when a couple of articles popped up. The man, it turned out, owned a small diner in Lake Marion. She herself had gone there a few times, along with her friends. She clicked on the top article. It was a news piece from the local paper about him selling the building. The photo featured him shaking hands with another man… a man whose face she knew very well.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  * * *

  Moira called Detective Jefferson with her discovery, assuring him that she definitely remembered the man’s face. It was him. The same man. She had finally found the man who had been bothering her employees at the deli the week before. The article didn’t give much information other than the man’s name; Lance Vespers. The detective promised to look into it.

  After getting off the phone with him, she shut off the tablet, but didn’t get up. She didn’t know what to do now. She didn’t want to just sit at home alone with the dogs all day. She wanted to be active, to do something to help.

  She decided to see if either of her two best friends were free. Both have been busy lately, Denise with her nephew, Logan, who had just gotten out of prison, and Martha with her boyfriend and her work. She decided to give her friends a call anyway. It was a Sunday afternoon; if there was a chance that either of them were free, it would likely be today.

  She was rewarded when Denise told her that she was welcome to come over. “Bring Martha too,” her friend said. “It's been a while since we've all been together.”

  It took some cajoling but after a while, Martha agreed to join them. Glad that she wasn't just going to go home and sit alone until David got back that evening, she slipped into the kitchen and packed up the remaining soup that would have just gone to waste otherwise. The three of them could have a nice lunch at Denise’s house while she told them about everything that had happened.

  While Moira and Denise had been friends for almost two years, Moira rarely went over to her friend’s house. Denise, who spent much of her time managing the Redwood Grill, the busy upscale restaurant that she owned, seemed to appreciate her privacy. Moira could understand that; Denise was much busier than she was, and had to deal with ornery people all day at work. Compared to the Redwood Grill, Darling’s Delicious Delights was a quiet, relaxing workplace.

  Moira pulled up her friend’s driveway and parked in front of the house. She lifted the bag of warm soup she had packed into multiple to-go containers and slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder. She realized with a jolt that Logan would be there. She hadn’t seen her ex-employee since he had been arrested. Suddenly spending the afternoon with her friends was beginning to look a lot less relaxing.

  Stalling, she checked her phone one last time. David still hadn’t called her back. She knew he was probably just busy doing things at the brewery, but she couldn’t help but worry about him. Maybe Denise would have a good solution. She had had her own fair share of experiences with relationship troubles.

  Lifting her two bags, she got out of the car and pushed the door shut with her hip. Not bothering to lock it, she walked up to the porch. She managed to knock on the door with her hands full, and a moment later, Denise answered.

  “Come on in,” her friend said. “Do you need me to take something?”

  “I’ve got it,” Moira said.

  She followed her friend through the house to the kitchen, where she put down the heavy bag full of soup containers.

  “What is today’s special?” Denise asked.

  “Broccoli cheddar soup,” she said.

  “Why do you have so much of it?” Denise asked, peering into the bag. “I don’t think we will be able to eat all of this.”

  “That is partially why I am here,” Moira said. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  “Did something happen? Is the deli all right?”

  “Let’s wait until Martha gets here,” Moira said. “I don’t want to have to repeat myself too much. Everyone is fine, though.” She frowned. Well, not everyone. The poor man they had found in the woods was dead.

  “How long did she say she would be?”

  “She should be here soon,” Moira said. “She said she said a couple of things to finish up at home before heading over. It’s good to see you again. It’s been a while since we’ve had lunch together.”

  “I know. This will be nice… depending on your news, I suppose. Everyone’s really okay?”

  “David and I are fine,” she said. “The deli is fine. Someone did —”

  She broke off as a young man walked into the kitchen. She hadn’t seen Logan for months, and he had changed quite a bit since then. He had a scruffy beard, and was even thinner than before. He froze when he saw her.

  “Sorry, I didn’t know…”

  He began to back out of the kitchen. Denise stepped forward and grabbed his arm. “Logan, get in here. You can’t avoid Moira forever.”

  “I doubt she wants to see me,” he muttered. “I’ll just go back into my room.”

  Denise let him go and put her hands on her hips. “You have done nothing but hide in your room since you got back. I’ve been trying to be understanding, but this is ridiculous. You can’t spend the rest of your life hiding from the world. If you won’t say hi to Moira, who is the nicest person in the world, then maybe I should kick you out and force you to start interacting with people. I fought for months to give you your life back. Don’t you dare waste it. What would your mother think?”

  Logan stared at his aunt with wide eyes. Moira didn’t blame him; she was glad that Denise’s outburst hadn’t been directed toward her.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Hi, Ms. D.”

  “Hi, Logan,” she replied. “How are you doing?”

  “Better, now that… well, it’s good to be home.”
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  She nodded, understanding that he didn’t want to mention his stay in prison. She was glad to avoid the subject as well. He had killed a troubled man in self-defense, but the case had been complicated and she still wasn’t sure how she felt about everything. Still, she was glad that Denise had managed to appeal his case and get him home. The Logan that she knew was a good kid, and didn’t deserve to spend years behind bars.

  “It’s good to see you again,” she said.

  “You too.” He looked at his aunt. “Um, well, I’m just going to grab a snack and then head back to my room, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Take a cup of soup if you’d like,” Moira said. “Or a couple. It’s broccoli cheddar. We’ve got plenty.”

  She saw the ghost of a smile on his face. “Thanks,” he said. “I will.”

  Martha arrived not long after Logan vanished back into his room. The three of them sat around Denise’s kitchen table. None of them reached for the soup; the two women stared at Moira eagerly, waiting for her to spill the beans.

  “Well, there are a few things,” she began. “This might take a while…”

  Once she was done telling them everything that had happened over the past few days, the kitchen fell silent. After a moment, Denise said, “Well, you certainly don’t have a quiet life. I’m glad you and David are okay. It’s scary to think someone got shot in the woods not far from where you were walking.”

  “I know,” Moira said. “I’m just so grateful that it wasn’t one of us that got hit.”

  “Do you think it was really an accident?” Martha asked.

  “I have no idea. All I know about the guy is that he was selling his restaurant, but I can’t see how that would be a motive for murder.”

  “Didn’t you say the guy he was selling it to is the same one who tried to break into the deli?”

  “To be fair, I’m not completely sure he’s the one who tried to break in.” She sighed. “But who else could it be?”

  “Do you think the hunter’s death and the break-in at the deli are related?” Denise asked.

  “I… I don’t know.” Moira frowned. Everything had happened so quickly. She had only gotten the news about the deli a couple of hours ago. “I don’t see how the crimes could be tied together. I didn’t know the man who got shot, and the deli has no connections to his diner. The only thing linking the crimes is that man, Lance. I still don’t know what his interest in the deli was.”

  “That’s not the only thing that ties them together,” her friend said. When Moira looked at her blankly, Denise continued, “You. You own the deli, and you’re also the one who found the hunter in the woods. I know it seems like a stretch, but maybe that has something to do with it.”

  The deli owner bit her lip. Denise was right. What if she had been looking at everything wrong? She had thought the two incidents were unrelated, but what if they weren’t? If whoever had killed the hunter knew that she had found the body, then maybe the attack on the deli had been a warning or, even worse, an attempt on her life.

  CHAPTER NINE

  * * *

  After their impromptu lunch together, Moira gave her friends a warm goodbye before getting back into her car. While it warmed up, she considered what she wanted to do next. She could go home, but with the house empty and so much on her mind, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to relax. The deli was closed for the day while the police looked into the break-in attempt, and David was at the brewery. She could go and spend some time there, but she wanted to respect his need for space.

  I just wish I knew if the hunter’s death and the issues at the deli are related, she thought. She didn’t know if she and the people she loved were in danger. A simple break-in attempt was bad enough, but what if the perpetrator hadn’t been after money? What if he or she had been trying to send her a message?

  If that was the case, then maybe she really should just go and sit at home. She didn't want to endanger the people she cared about by snooping around when someone wanted her to go away.

  Just as she put the car into gear, having decided that it might be best to play it safe, her phone rang. She was relieved to see David's name on her screen. Putting her car back into park, she took the call.

  “Hey,” she said. “Are you okay?”

  “I should be asking you that,” her husband said. “I got your message. Is everyone all right? Do they have a suspect in custody yet?”

  “Everyone is fine. They don't have anyone in custody yet, but they do have a suspect.”

  “Are you home? I'm on the way over.”

  “I'm at Denise’s,” she said, “I was just about to leave.”

  “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone to the brewery this morning and should have been there when you got the call about the deli.”

  “Neither of us could have known,” she said. “It's okay. Like I said, no one got hurt.”

  “I still feel bad. Do you want to get lunch somewhere?”

  She hesitated. “I'm sorry, I just ate with Denise and Martha. I still have some leftover soup if you're hungry. If you just want to get coffee, we could meet at that little coffee shop in Lake Marion.”

  “Sure,” he said. “I need to stop at the office anyway. I'll just lock up here and then head over. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” Moira said. She ended the call, feeling better than she had just a few minutes ago.

  At least David seemed to be doing all right. She knew that they still had a lot to talk about. Seeing someone die right in front of you, someone that you are struggling to save, couldn’t be easy.

  She drove toward Lake Marion, finding it hard to believe that Thanksgiving was in just a few days. She didn’t feel like she was in the holiday spirit at all. Usually, she loved Thanksgiving; it was a time to go all out with cooking, have family and friends over, and enjoy being together. Now, she had so much to worry about. Allison, David, the murder, the attack on the deli; nothing was going right. She had a feeling that things would continue to get worse until whoever was behind the attack was stopped.

  Now that it had been mentioned, she was unable to shake the suspicion that the attempted break-in at the deli and the attack on the hunter in the woods were somehow related. She just didn’t understand why. Lance was the one who she thought had most likely tried to break into the deli, but he didn’t make sense as a suspect for the hunter’s death. He had been buying the man’s diner, after all.

  She frowned. In fact, maybe his interest in buying a restaurant had something to do with why he had been snooping around the deli. She knew her deli was one of the most well-known restaurants in the area. If he was interested in being competitive, he very well might have just been curious to see how they did things. If he had asked her, she would have been happy to give him a tour and some advice, but she knew that most places probably wouldn’t have welcomed competition with open arms.

  She knew that the reality was probably that there was no connection between the two crimes. The man who died in the woods could have truly been the victim of a hunting accident, and the attempted break-in at the deli could have simply been some misguided low-level criminal’s attempts to rob them.

  All she had were suspicions, guesses, and the gut feeling that there was more going on than met the eye. None of those things would hold up in court, and none of them would be enough to give Detective Jefferson a good reason to think the crimes were linked.

  The coffee shop was on the corner of Lake Marion’s main street and the road that curved around the lake that the town was named after. The lake itself was a cold, steel blue color. Waves lapped at the shore, and the beaches were empty. It would be a good six months or more before anyone went swimming in the waters again.

  The diner that Lance was buying from Norman Maines was only a few buildings away from the coffee shop. Moira hadn’t chosen this intentionally when she had made plans with her husband, but as she pulled past the building, she still felt a little stab of guilt. She had just decided to stay out of things t
o keep herself and her employees and family safe, but here she was, just a few hundred feet away from the building that – if her wild guesses were right – was the reason for a murder. She still didn’t understand what possible motivation the killer could have had, but there had to be a connection. The two towns were small, but she still thought that it was quite a coincidence that she had seen Lance the week before the man had been killed in the woods. That, plus the break-in attempt, was just too much of a coincidence to ignore.

  Figuring that she was already there, and the damage had already been done, she parked her SUV along the road instead of in the coffee shop’s small parking lot so she could keep an eye on the diner. She wasn’t surprised to see that the doors were closed and the normally glowing open sign was off. The restaurant’s owner was dead, and it seemed that the sale hadn’t gone through yet. The employees were probably in mourning, and the future of the restaurant would be uncertain.