A Side of Murder: Book 18 in The Darling Deli Series

Home > Mystery > A Side of Murder: Book 18 in The Darling Deli Series > Page 5
A Side of Murder: Book 18 in The Darling Deli Series Page 5

by Patti Benning


  “No, Denise, you need to fight this. None of this was your fault.”

  “This is such a mess.” She sighed. “Thanks for always lending an ear when I need to talk. You’re a good friend.”

  “So are you.” The deli owner smiled at the other woman. “That’s why I don’t want to see you wrecked in a lawsuit. Talk to your lawyer, okay? Don’t just give in.”

  “I will.” With a grimace, Denise shoved the papers back into the envelope and stood up. “I’d better go make sure the two chefs are getting along. I decided to hire the new guy, Bret, on the spot. He’s great, and with Hector on an extended vacation we really need the back-up.”

  Moira made the connection immediately. She remembered the man from the deli that morning, who had mentioned a job interview. “Is his last name Kingsly by any chance?”

  “Bret Kingsly,” her friend said, nodding. “He was here on Valentine’s Day. He helped keep that crazy woman from attacking me. That’s how we met, actually.”

  “I remember. He stopped in the deli this morning to pick up lunch. He seemed nice, and was definitely excited about the interview.”

  “He is nice,” her friend said, then blushed. “I mean… well, I’m divorced, I’m allowed to want to go on dates again, aren’t I?”

  “Of course,” Moira said, grinning. “I’m glad you hired him. I can’t wait to see what his specialty dishes are. I remember when you hired Hector and you added all of those great Mexican dishes to your menu. I think that was the first time David ordered something other than a steak.”

  “Right, instead he ordered cheesy steak nachos,” her friend said, laughing. The deli owner was relieved to see the smile on the other woman’s face. Things will be all right, she thought. I’m sure of it.

  After Denise went back to the kitchen, she turned her attention back to her chicken salad wrap, pondering what she could do to help her friend get through this. She didn’t have any experience with being sued, but she had the feeling that the process would be a long and unpleasant one. In a way, if Brody’s death had been ruled a homicide instead of an accident, that might be better for her friend. She couldn’t get sued if someone else had killed the guy, could she?

  Chapter Eleven

  * * *

  Pulling up the long driveway that led to the brewery gave Moira a twinge of nostalgia. The original owner had been a good man, and she would never be able to enter the building without thinking sadly of his death. Part of her hoped that if the business took off, David would purchase a different building that didn’t hold all of the memories that this one had. The lease would be up for renegotiation in a year, and she was going to do her part to encourage them to move the operation elsewhere. She didn’t want to think of her dead friend every time she went to visit her husband at his new hobby.

  Karissa’s car was parked next to David’s. Moira smiled at the sight. She was glad that the two of them were running the business together. She thought it was wonderful that David’s sister had decided to move back to Lake Marion. The private investigator didn’t seem to have a lot of people that he was very close to. Moira knew that a few of his good friends had passed away over the years. She still got teary-eyed when she remembered the time one of his oldest friends had been murdered and found months later in the lake. She couldn’t imagine losing one of her close friends like that. It had been horrible enough when she found Zander’s body, but Martha or Denise? She shuddered at the thought.

  Glancing over at the farm house across the street where the property owner lived, Moira tried to remember how it had looked the last time she had been there. It had been summer then, and the differences were too many to count. Poor Zander, she thought. I really hope David will move the brewery one day. I don’t like coming here.

  Karissa met her at the door, all smiles. Moira greeted her, then peered around her, hoping to see one of the other woman’s two dogs.

  “No pooches today?” she asked. Zander used to bring his dog, Sunflower, to the brewery all the time. Of course, he had lived on the farm, so the dog had found it easy to tag along.

  “Not today,” Karissa answered. “David and I have been in and out a lot, and I didn’t want to worry about one of them getting out and chasing the cows or something. They usually listen pretty well, but I don’t know how they would do with so much excitement and so many distractions.”

  “I completely understand,” Moira said. “I need to work on Maverick’s training myself. He’s been getting worse about coming in from outside when we go on walks off leash. He just has so much energy, and I think being inside is boring for him. It’s too cold for me to stay outside for as long as he wants, though.”

  “I think all of the dogs will be a lot happier when the weather warms up. We haven’t gone to the park all winter. Most of the time it’s been too cold, then on the warm days, everything is muddy and miserable.”

  “I just have to keep reminding myself that winter will end one day,” the deli owner said. “I can’t wait for summer. Everything seems so much easier when it’s sunny and warm.”

  “You and me both. Anyway, come on in. I’m actually waiting for a friend of mine to get here. David’s in the back.”

  Moria walked through the small office room that took up the front of the building, trying not to look over at the desk in the corner where she had found Zander’s body all those months ago. She pushed her way through the door that led to the brewery itself. The room was big, with high ceilings and a bunch of strange looking machines of which she had only the vaguest idea of what they did.

  She paused at the entrance, feeling lost until she heard a clang come from the back corner of the room. She began walking towards the noise, and found David laying half under one of the vats.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, curious. He jolted and she heard a bang. Wincing, and hoping that the sound wasn’t his head, she crouched down next to him as he pushed his way out from under the vat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “I didn’t hear you come in. I’m surprised you stopped by. I thought you were going home?”

  “I did. Then Denise called, and I just had to swing by the grill.”

  She filled him in on what had happened in the last few hours, describing her elation at hearing that her friend had been cleared of all crimes, then the sudden worry of the lawsuit being sprung on her. David listened intently, his eyes concerned.

  “She’s getting sued. That’s not good,” he said. “Even if she can afford it financially, it’s going to look bad for the grill.”

  “I know. She’s going to meet with her lawyer and hopefully they’ll be able to figure it out. But David, I was thinking… what if Brody was murdered by one of the women he wronged? While I was there, I spoke to the head chef, and guess what? He’s Paula Beaker’s cousin.”

  Her husband frowned. “That’s definitely an important connection. I’m sure the police know about it.”

  “They do; that’s why he was a major suspect. I don’t know why they decided to rule Brody’s death an accident, but what if they were wrong? What if the chef killed him?”

  “That might stop your friend from getting sued, but it’s still going to look bad for the restaurant,” he said. “I agree, though, it’s a possibility. The man would have had both motive and means.”

  “Will you look into it?” Moira asked. “You’re a private investigator, I’m sure you could dig up something that would make the police reopen the case.”

  He hesitated. “I’m busy with the brewery right now, you know that. Karissa and I are meeting with someone soon who is going to walk us through the process of getting this all set up. I can’t take an extra case right now. I’m sorry, Moira. I’ll tell Jefferson about the file and Brody’s history of being an unfaithful husband. That might be enough to get them to look more closely at his death.”

  “You’re not going to help?” the deli owner asked, hurt. “Denise could lose everything i
f she gets sued. Not to mention if they rule his death an accident and it’s not, a killer is getting away.”

  “I don’t know what else I could do. When it comes down to it, you want this to be a murder so your friend can avoid a lawsuit. I don’t blame you for wanting to protect her, but unless there’s new evidence that the police don’t have yet, they aren’t going to be able to do anything more than they have already done.”

  Moira gritted her teeth in frustration. She had expected David to offer his help immediately, but instead he seemed to think that she was grasping at straws. If he’s not going to help, I’ll do it myself, she thought. Trying not to get angry, she brushed a quick kiss across his cheek and promised to see him that evening. Then she left, her thoughts focused on one thing. She had work to do.

  Chapter Twelve

  * * *

  Still seething with frustration at how unhelpful her husband was being, Moira decided to take matters into her own hands right away. With Denise facing a civil law suit, and the potential loss of a lot of money, she couldn’t very well just sit back and do nothing. As far as she was concerned, both that girlfriend and the wife were potential suspects, along with the head chef, of course. The chef had seemed nice when Moira spoke to him, but being nice didn’t mean he couldn’t also be a suspect. She knew firsthand just how crazy people could be when they were trying to protect family. If Brody’s wife had asked him to slip the man the peanuts, it would have been easy for him to do it. Or he may have decided to take matters into his own hands, frustrated that his cousin was being treated so unfairly.

  Denise said he prepared Brody’s meal himself, she remembered suddenly. He does that for everyone with serious allergies, so maybe the police didn’t think it was suspicious. Even though the chef was an obvious suspect, she found herself hoping it wasn’t him. The last thing the Redwood Grill needed just then was more bad publicity, and if the head chef got arrested for murder, bad publicity was all the grill would get for a very long time.

  So, think about the girlfriend, she told herself. What is it the police look for in a crime? Motive and means. She definitely had the means to do it — she was sitting across from him and could have slipped the peanuts into his bowl at any time. But what about motive?

  She supposed jealousy could have been a factor; the man had had a wife also, after all. She couldn’t imagine what would drive a woman to have an affair with a married man, but she didn’t think it would be a very pleasant experience to be the “other woman.” Still, it seemed more likely for the wife to act violently out of jealousy in that situation. She was the one that had been wronged steadily for years. Moira sighed. She really wished that she had read the file on Brody herself. Just how many affairs had this man had?

  Slowly, Moira’s eyes traveled down to the ring of keys currently hanging from her car’s ignition. She could go and read Brody’s file herself, right now, before David passed it on to Detective Jefferson. She had the key to David’s office, and he had said that she was welcome in there at any time. She was his wife, after all. And it wasn’t as if she was going to do anything bad with the information. She was just curious.

  Her decision made, Moira turned left instead of right at the state highway. She was heading to Lake Marion, to solve a mystery that her husband didn’t think existed.

  It felt odd to be in David’s office without him. She felt like a trespasser, a feeling that she didn’t like at all. This was her husband’s office, and she had every right to be there. So why did she feel like she was doing something bad?

  Brody’s file was right where they had left it on David’s desk next to his computer. She grabbed it and brought it over to the couch, where she made herself comfortable before opening it.

  The date on the first page was almost ten years ago. Moira frowned, trying to imagine staying with a man that had been cheating on her for ten years. She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t want to do it. Poor Paula must have been living a very unpleasant life for a long time.

  Moira flipped through the file and read about the first investigation David had done for the woman. It had started out like most cases; she had been worried that her husband was cheating on her, and had had the money to spare for a private investigator. David had done his job, tailing the man for a couple of days. He had gotten the evidence he needed, and returned to his client with photos of her husband meeting a strange woman outside of a hotel.

  It was after that that things started getting weird. Moira squinted, trying to make out the scribbles that were David’s notes. Just a few days after giving the evidence to his client, he had gotten another call. She told him that she had confronted her husband about the affair, and had even managed to track down the woman — who had been shocked to learn that her boyfriend was already married — but was concerned that her husband was still seeing someone.

  David had tailed the man again, and had seen him visit not one or even two other women, but three. Most of his cheating spouse cases were pretty open and shut, but this one was a bit more complex. Once the man was found out, he had never had a client come back to him again with the same complaint.

  Moira continued flipping through the file, only to see another record from four years ago. Paula had once again discovered that her husband had gone back to his sneaky ways, and David had once again tracked down multiple mistresses.

  “Crazy,” she muttered. She flipped to the back of the file and found a list of women’s names, a few of them followed by addresses or phone numbers. It seemed that

  David had kept a record of all the women Brody had been seeing. She wondered if he had given the list to Paula, or kept it confidential. With the feeling that it might come in handy later, Moira snapped a picture of the list with her phone.

  She hadn’t really found anything useful, but what she had read had just convinced her even more deeply that Paula had had something to do with her husband’s death. After years and years of being taken advantage of, Moira found it hard to blame her. Anyone might snap under that sort of stress.

  She was about to put the file back on the desk when she saw the red blinking message light on David’s answering machine. She hesitated only a moment before pushing the button to play it. She was acting as his assistant, after all. There was nothing wrong with taking a call. She just felt guilty for going through someone’s file like that.

  “Hi, my name is Brenda Ryan. A week ago my boyfriend died, and the police just decided it was an accidental death, but I think it was a murder. If you think you can help, please call me.” She recited her number, then hung up.

  Moira stared at the answering machine, surprised and suspicious. Brenda again, and she was still claiming Brody’s death was a murder. Maybe she knows something, the deli owner thought. Maybe she has evidence that the police can use to reopen the case. She replayed the message and copied the number down. She didn’t need David’s help. She could track down the killer perfectly well on her own.

  Chapter Thirteen

  * * *

  When Moira witnessed a man’s death on Valentine’s Day, her first and only thought was how horrible it was that he had died. Of course, she still knew that it was wrong if someone had killed him, but she could see why whoever had done it, had done it. The man had been a pig, there was no way around it. His current mistress was the latest in a long line of flings and poorly-planned affairs. No wonder David hadn’t seemed enthusiastic about helping. The file was just too big. Any one of those women might have had reason to kill him. It would take the police ages to get through the list after the private investigator gave it to them. Even after seeing how many people might have had a reason to want him dead, they still might not want to reopen the investigation into his death.

  Why do I think he was murdered? She wondered as she drove. Is David right? Am I really just grasping at straws because I want Denise to be off the hook? It was a good question, and one that she couldn’t answer right away. I guess the only reason I think he was murdered is because so many people would have
a motive to kill him. It started when I learned that Brenda was his mistress, but the more I learned, the more convinced I became. I don’t really have any actual proof. Just a long list of people he wronged.

  She knew that the police would have already looked into his relationship with his wife, especially since her cousin was the chef that had prepared what turned out to be Brody’s last meal. Thanks to television, she knew that the spouse was almost always treated as a suspect when a mysterious death happened. Surely the police had already questioned both his wife and Brenda, in addition to the head chef. David had seen the file, and he knew that the man had had multiple affairs. Yet he didn’t seem to entertain the idea that it was a murder. She seemed to be the only one who really suspected foul play, and between David and the police, she was by far the least qualified to be doing investigative work.

  Is it really just because of Denise? she wondered again. Am I letting my friendship with her lead me on a wild goose chase as I try to find a murderer that doesn’t exist?

 

‹ Prev