Murder on Aisle Three

by Patti Benning

  “What's going on?” Jed asked, looking not at her, but at all of the commotion around them.

  “You mean you don't know? No one called you?”

  He frowned. “I was just coming in to work. What is all of this? Was there a break-in?”

  “I thought one of the police officers must have called you in,” Autumn said, feeling her stomach clench. She didn't want to be the one to tell him about Grace, but she couldn't leave him waiting. “When I got here this morning, the front door was already unlocked. Then when I was walking through the store, I found… I found Grace in one of the aisles. She's dead, Jed.”

  He finally looked at her, his face now as pale as the snow around them. “How?”

  “I don't know. I think her neck might have been broken, but it all seems like a blur now. There were cans all over the floor, so there must have been some sort of struggle.”

  He shook his head, as if he didn't want to believe it. “Who would do this? She was just a kid.”

  “I don't know. Why was she even there? How did she get in? We’re the only ones with keys.”

  “I don't -” Somehow, he paled even further. “Oh, no. This is my fault. I asked her to stop by a little bit after closing to pick up her paycheck, but with everything that was going on with the sale, I forgot.”

  Autumn touched his shoulder, feeling bad for him. “It's not your fault. You had no way of knowing this would happen. Whoever attacked her is the only one who deserves the blame.”

  “I'm sure I locked the doors when I left,” he said. “I remember it clearly. Mr. Goodall - he's the buyer - was there with me. I remember it because while I was turning the lock, he asked me if I had ever had any problems with crime, which led into a discussion about crime rates in Asheville in general, and we continued talking about it over drinks.”

  “Well, I know I didn't unlock the door for her last night. We are the only ones with keys, right?”

  He nodded. “I only ever made three keys. One for you, one for me, and one that stays in a locked drawer at my house.”

  Autumn bit her lip. Jed seemed so certain that he had locked the door, but the only thing that made sense was that he had somehow forgotten it. Either that, or he was lying, but she couldn't see why he would lie about something like that. There was only one person who knew for sure what had happened last night, and she was dead.

  She turned her gaze back to the grocery store. Nothing about Grace’s death made sense. Her presence at the grocery store could be explained, but not how she had gotten in or who had killed her… or why.

  The crackle of a radio startled her. She couldn't make out what the voice was saying, but the officer that was standing next to her and Jed muttered something in the affirmative.

  "We are ready to start taking statements now," he said. "He wants you first, ma'am. Follow me, please."

  He led her to an area just inside the door. There, he introduced her to the detective.

  "Can you confirm your name for me, please?" the man said.

  "Autumn Roth," she said.

  "And your connection to the victim?"

  "I was her coworker," she said. "And I'm the one that called the police."

  "Please walk me through what happened this morning. Leave nothing out."

  She did so, starting with when she got to the store shortly before eight. It wasn't as difficult as she had thought it would be to describe finding Grace's body. Everything was still so fresh in her mind, and she hardly had to think it all. It was almost like she was reliving it.

  "When is the last time you saw your employee, Miss Roth?" he asked.

  "Yesterday afternoon," she said. "She just stopped at the store pick up a paycheck. I was on my way out."

  "Did you exchange any words with her?"

  "Yes. We didn't really say much, though. We just greeted each other, and she told me she was here to pick up the paycheck, and that's it."

  "Did she say anything that might lead you to believe that she was feeling threatened?"

  "No," she said. "Not at all. She seemed cheerful and happy, just like usual."

  "Do you know if she was scheduled to work yesterday evening?"

  "No," she said. "I know for a fact that she wasn't."

  "Do you have any idea why she might have been here late into the evening, if she wasn't supposed to be working?"

  Reluctantly, she told them what Jed had told her – that he had asked Grace to meet him after hours to pick up a paycheck, and had then forgotten about it. She saw the flash of suspicion in the officer's eyes, and she didn't like it. Jed was the last person in the world they should be suspecting. She hoped that they didn't waste their efforts focusing on him. Grace’s real killer was out there somewhere, and she just hoped that he wouldn't hurt anyone else before he was caught.

  CHAPTER SIX

  * * *

  After speaking to the police and giving her side of the story, Autumn returned home. The grocery store would be closed indefinitely, which meant that she wouldn’t be needed until Jed called her in. She had a feeling that the store might not reopen at all. With only couple of weeks until the end of the month, it probably wouldn’t be worth it to him to reopen the store and be forced to come face to face with the community’s rumors and questions.

  She felt numb when she returned to her house later that morning. Her mind kept flashing back to Grace’s still form lying on the floor. She was only eighteen, she thought as she let herself into the house and fielded Frankie’s exuberant greeting. She had so much to look forward to. Who did this? How could something like this have happened?

  Beginning to feel sick to her stomach, she sat down on the couch, absently petting the terrier, who seemed to have picked up on her owner’s shock and sadness and had calmed down. The police had accepted her alibi from the night before; she knew that the entire facility would be able to verify that she had been there during the evening. From the little she had gathered during the questioning, they thought that she had been killed shortly after the grocery store had closed for the evening. It made sense given the reason Jed had offered for her presence at the store, but still didn’t explain how she had gotten in or who had killed her.

  “Poor Jed,” she said aloud to her dog. “He must feel terrible. I hope they aren’t too hard on him.”

  She had been cleared to go before the police had finished questioning her boss, and by then all she had wanted was to get somewhere private in case she had the breakdown that she felt coming. Finding Grace’s body felt different than seeing the chef die. She had known Grace for almost a year, and had worked side by side with her almost every day. It had even been her idea to hire the young woman. If it wasn’t for her, would Grace still be alive right now?

  She knew that path was one that she didn’t want to go down. There was no end to the “what ifs.” She had to listen to the advice that she had given Jed; the only person she should put the blame on was the one who had killed an innocent young woman with their own two hands.

  "This is the second time I've seen a dead body in less than a month," she said out loud. "I hope this never happens again. I don't know how much more I can take."

  She didn't have much experience with death. Losing someone close to her was completely new, and she had no idea how to even begin processing it. Her brain, it seemed, wouldn't stop feeding her memories of Grace. She had been there on the day that she was hired, and had handled most of the young woman's training herself. She remembered all the times that they had laughed together, or had commiserated together about the long hours. She remembered decorating the shop for Christmas with the young woman just a couple of weeks ago, and how proud she had been when she had managed to string the lights along the tops of the shelves on her own.

  She was a mess, and she knew it. Still, however, she didn't seem able to cry. She was just sitting there, motionless, on the couch. It was as if her body was paralyzed by the flood of thoughts that was flowing through her.

  It was Frankie who broke the odd tranc
e she was in. She had grown impatient and, eager to go outside, let out a sharp yip. She jumped in place, then stood up. After letting Frankie outside, she began to walk around the house. Pacing somehow felt better than just sitting still. She wanted to do something productive, but for now, all she could do was wait. The police would have to do their jobs before she got any answers about why or how Grace had died.

  At first, she had considered calling Nick to ask for the evening off, but by the time evening came, she was glad that she had to go to the nursing home to make dinner. She needed to talk to someone about what had happened, and her aunt and uncle were the perfect people to share her worries with.

  She had kept her phone close all day long in case the police or Jed had needed to get in touch with her, but the only call she had received had been from Emily, asking if her coworker and friend was really dead. It had been a heartbreaking call, and it was after that that the tears had come.

  She got to Asheville Meadows early, and made a beeline for one of the staff members to ask where her aunt and uncle were.

  “I think they're in their room,” the young woman said, checking her watch. “They usually come out to the common area right before you get here.”

  “Perfect,” Autumn said. “Thank you. I'll go tell them I'm here early.”

  Nick intercepted her before she could get far. “Thank goodness,” he said. “I was worried you might not come in today.”

  “Why?”

  “I heard about what happened to your coworker. One of our employees here — Shila — was friends with her. She called in this morning, and I gave her the day off. I would have given you a personal day too, of course, but I’m glad you’re here. It’s never easy to get everything done when we’re a staff member down.”

  “I’ll stick around late if you need me to,” she promised.

  “Don’t feel like you have to,” he said. “I really am sorry about what happened.”

  She nodded. She understood that he was worried about the residents getting the care they needed; he was responsible for them, after all. She had no doubt that if she had asked for the day off, he would have given it to her without hesitation, but now she was happier than ever that she had decided to come in anyway.

  “I’ll start dinner soon,” she said. “I’ve just got to say hi to Uncle Al and Aunt Lucy first.”

  She made her way down the familiar halls until she reached the right room. It took only a moment for her uncle to respond with “Come in!” to her knock. She opened the door and slipped inside. While she liked her coworkers at the nursing home, she didn't want to get drawn into a conversation with anyone else just then.

  “It must be later than I thought if you're here already,” her uncle said.

  “Don't get up,” she said as he began to rise out of his chair to greet her. She walked over and gave first him, and then her aunt a hug. “I just came over early because there's something I wanted to talk about. Is now a good time?”

  “Of course.” Uncle Al muted the TV. She glanced at it just in time to see the words Breaking News rush across the scene. When she saw the photo of Grace, she averted her eyes in a hurry. “Is something wrong?”

  She took a seat on the couch across from his armchair and took a deep breath.

  The room was silent for a moment when she finished with her story. It was hard for her to believe it herself. It sounded like something that would happen to someone else; not to her.

  “I'm sorry, Autumn. I know what it's like to lose a friend unexpectedly like that,” her uncle said.

  “I just wish I knew what happened. So much doesn't make sense.”

  “Maybe someone broke in, and the girl walked in on them in the middle of a crime?”

  “I suppose that's a possibility,” she said. “She was expecting Jed to be there, so she wouldn't be surprised to find the door unlocked. But why would anyone go through all the effort of picking the lock? The store is going out of business, and we never keep any sort of significant cash in the register anyway. It doesn't seem like a smart place to rob.”

  “Well, criminals aren't always smart,” he said. “I'm not saying that's what happened, but usually the simplest explanation is the right one.”

  Autumn nodded slowly. Her uncle’s idea made sense, and it certainly answered the nagging questions about Grace’s death, but somehow it just didn't feel right to her. There had been no sign that anything in the store had been touched, besides the spilled cans of course. If someone had been robbing the store, they probably would have been focused on either the liquor aisle or the cash register, not cans of beans and fruit.

  It may have been the simplest answer, but contrary to what her uncle had said, that didn't mean it was the right one.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  * * *

  Nick stopped in again while she was making dinner that evening, and this time she accepted his invitation to go out the next day. Lunch and a movie sounded like a welcome distraction from what had happened at the grocery store.

  Self Sandwich was Asheville’s most unique restaurant; the customer could order from a selection of breads, meats, vegetables, and cheeses, which were then brought out — already sliced — by the server. The tables included individual panini presses, in case a warm sandwich was desired.

  The restaurant also served a variety of soups and salads, but the sandwiches were the main attraction, and that was what Autumn and Nick ordered when they sat down to their lunch date.

  “Have you been here before?” he asked her after they placed their orders.

  “Not for a while,” she said. She didn't mention that it had been one of Brandon’s favorite restaurants. There was no reason to bring her ex into the conversation if she didn't have to. “This should be great. I'm hungry.”

  She had hardly eaten anything the day before. After finding Grace at the store, her appetite had vanished completely. She hadn’t managed to take more than a few bites of the dinner she had made at the nursing home, even though Uncle Al had urged her to eat.

  “I'm sorry again for what happened. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you out to eat, but I thought you might like someone to talk to.”

  “I'm just glad for the distraction,” she said. “When I'm at my house, all I do is go over it again and again in my head. I feel terrible for Grace, and of course Jed —”

  “Jed?” he asked.

  “My boss. He feels like it's his fault, because he asked her to meet him there, but forgot. He's trying to sell the building, and met with someone interested in buying it that evening. I guess they went out for drinks afterward, and meeting Grace to give her her paycheck slipped his mind.”

  “I'm sorry. This has got to be hard on both of you, and her family of course. If you want to talk about it, I'm here.”

  She realized that Nick must know what it was like to lose someone he knew unexpectedly, though not from foul play. Death was a constant specter at the nursing home. Even though most people who passed away there, not counting the chef, had lived long lives, it still wouldn't be easy.

  “Thanks,” she said. “That means a lot. For now, though, I think I'd rather talk about something else. How are things going with you?”

  “Not bad,” he said. “Having you there to cook has been a help. With the other cook out on her maternity leave, and with us still being a couple of staff members down after everything that happened last month, we've been stretched thin, but we're managing.”

  “Have you had any luck with hiring new people?”

  After the murder before Christmas and the streak of unfortunate incidents in the kitchen, a couple of long-time staff members had quit, preferring to keep a safe distance from what was happening. Rumor spread quickly in such a small town, and although not many people knew exactly what happened, almost everyone knew that something had happened, and few wanted anything to do with it.

  “We haven't found anyone promising yet, but it hasn't been long. I'm sure we’ll find someone soon. It's a rewarding job, if you're a peop
le person, and there aren't many places hiring around town right now.”

  “You just need someone responsible, who is good with people, right? No other qualifications?”

  “Well, we do require a high school diploma or a GED, but for the position we’re hiring for, nothing else. Experience working with the elderly would be nice, but we're willing to train the right person.”