He brushed past her, pausing to add, “Besides, you’ve got it wrong, sweetheart. I’m not the one that owed Ben money. That’d be Duncan.”
With that, he was gone, leaving her alone in the corner with Russell’s friend. He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes cold, before turning away.
Ellie stood frozen where she was as she watched him disappear into the crowd. She had been wrong. Oh, she had been so, so wrong. There was one thing that she had been right about, though. Ben had been killed because of the money, but it wasn’t Jeffrey that killed him… it was Duncan.
When she was able to force herself to move again, she headed straight for the pizzeria’s landline in the kitchen. Confronting Jeffrey in the heat of the moment in a crowd was one thing, but she was terrified of Duncan. She had to report what she knew to someone who would know what to do.
The number to the Kittiport sheriff’s office was posted next to the phone, along with the fire department and coast guard numbers. Ellie began punching in the digits, but paused partway through when something occurred to her. She was about to accuse a fellow law enforcement officer of murder with no proof. Who would believe her? Best case scenario, they would laugh her off the line. Worst case scenario, Duncan would hear about it and come after her to shut her up.
“So what do I do?” she whispered, feeling miles away from the happy customers on the other side of the door. “Who can I trust?”
Russell immediately came to mind. She didn’t know if he would believe her, but she had the feeling he would at least consider what she had to say. All she had to do was call the sheriff’s office and ask to speak to him directly. She punched in the rest of the numbers and waited for the other line to ring.
“I’m sorry, he’s not in the office right now. Can I take a message?” asked a chipper-voiced secretary when she finally got through.
“No,” Ellie said dully. “Thanks.”
She set the phone back in the cradle and wracked her brain. The answer, when she found it, was so obvious that she was surprised that she hadn’t thought of it sooner. She had his business card, with his cell number on the back. The only problem was; it was out in her car along with her cellphone.
“I’ll be right back,” Ellie told Clara, who was busy shuffling pizzas between ovens. Her employee gave her a distracted nod.
She slipped out the back door and hurried across the parking lot—which was unusually crowded, thanks to the nearly overwhelming number of customers they were getting—and found her car. Fumbling with her keys, she unlocked it and sat in the driver’s seat with the door open, trying to find the sheriff’s business card in her messy purse.
“Dang it, I really need to clean this thing out,” she muttered.
“I’d say.”
Ellie jumped, knocking the purse off the seat. She turned to see none other than Duncan standing just outside her open driver’s door, leaning casually against the neighboring car.
“I thought you might try something like this,” he said with a sigh. “Nosy people never know when to stop.”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “I’m just looking for my lipstick.”
“Don’t try to pull that with me.” He leaned forward, putting a hand on the open car door. Ellie shrank back inside the vehicle.
“Scared?” He chuckled. “Finally. Your instincts are kicking in at last. It would have been better for both of us if they hadn’t kicked in at all. You really shouldn’t go sticking your nose into official police business.”
He was toying with her, Ellie realized. The thought gave her a burst of much needed anger that cut through the fear and let her think again.
“I’ll stick my nose wherever I want, especially when my friends are involved,” she said, forcing herself to sit up straighter and hating the tremor in her voice. She met his eyes. “Tell me… just how much did you owe him?”
Duncan looked annoyed, but to her surprise answered. “Ten grand. I have a gambling problem, I know. But I don’t have that sort of money, not even close.”
“Wasn’t Ben your friend?” she asked. “Wouldn’t he have let you off the hook if you told him you couldn’t pay up?”
“Ben was no angel,” the ranger growled. He glared at her for a long moment, then crouched down, pulled a long knife from his boot, and tossed it onto her lap. She gaped at him.
“Ben was a rat,” he continued, as if nothing had happened. “I was already on a short leash at the ranger station thanks to my love for the ponies. If I didn’t pay him, he would have been more than happy to tell the sheriff that I’d been up to my old habits, and I couldn’t afford that. Russ is a good friend, but he’s an even better cop. He would have told my boss, and I would have lost my job. I wasn’t planning on killing Ben, not exactly, but when I saw him slinking around the pizzeria late at night while I was heading out to the park, I knew I had the perfect chance. Thankfully I had my personal firearm in the glove compartment. After that, it was just a matter of filing off the serial number. If it wasn’t for your grandmother, I would have had no trouble planting it at your house.”
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Ellie asked, nudging the knife in her lap gingerly. The crazy thought entered her mind that he expected her to duel him.
“I can’t shoot an unarmed woman,” he said simply. “It would look better if you had a gun, but the knife will have to do.”
He reached for the firearm holstered on his hip, undoing the snap almost casually. The gun was a sinister-looking matte black. Ellie paled.
“Please, don’t do this,” she begged. “I won’t tell anyone; I promise…”
“Oh, shut up,” he said. “I hate begging.”
He unholstered the gun. “This will look better for me if you pick up the knife, you know,” he said. “I can say you ambushed me, attacked me out of the blue and I had no choice but to defend myself. Go on, pick it up.” He waited a moment, and when she did nothing, he sighed and aimed the gun at her. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter that much.”
He placed his finger on the trigger, and Ellie squeezed her eyes shut.
“Drop the gun, Duncan!”
Her eyes snapped open. She knew that voice. It was Russell. He was approaching them slowly, his own gun drawn and pointed at his friend.
“Drop it now. I will shoot.”
Ellie saw the muzzle of Duncan’s gun waver in indecision, and she decided to take the chance while she had it. Grabbing the knife in her lap, she lunged forward and slashed it toward his leg. He let out a howl of pain and dropped the gun, staggering away from her and falling backwards over the car behind him. She watched, frozen in shock, as Russell rushed forward to handcuff his friend.
As he heaved Duncan to his feet, she noticed a spreading red stain on the sleeve of the man’s jacket. It took her a moment to realize what it must be. Her grandmother had shot at the intruder, and ever since, whenever she had seen Duncan, he had been wearing long sleeves. She felt a rush of admiration for the old woman, who had managed to drive off a killer on her own even though she was in her eighties.
“I guess my grandmother didn’t miss after all, did she?” she said quietly as the sheriff hauled his best friend away.
EPILOGUE
Eleanora straightened the stack of papers on her grandfather’s—no, on her desk, and looked over at Marlowe, who was sitting contentedly on a wooden stand by the window. Over the past few weeks, she and the bird had developed a wary sort of mutual trust, but she knew there was still a long way to go before the macaw would view her as a friend.
“Are you ready to go back to your cage now?” she asked. Marlowe tilted her head, staring at Ellie for a long moment before slowly raising one clawed foot into the air; an imperious gesture that the woman had quickly learned meant carry me.
She stood up and walked slowly over to the stand. The bird stepped onto her extended arm without hesitation, then clamped down tightly as Ellie walked out of the study. Bunny rushed out in front of them, h
er flag-like tail raised proudly as she led the way to the cage near the stairs. Both animals were starting to get used to the new routine.
Ellie transferred the parrot to the cage, then hurried to the kitchen to wash up, smiling as she heard the bird yell goodbye as she walked away. The more comfortable Marlowe got with her, the more the bird seemed to say, and the macaw was turning out to have quite the vocabulary.
“This looks great, as always, Nonna,” she said when she joined her grandmother at the table. “Remember, tomorrow it’s my turn to cook.”
“I’m elderly, I’m not a kindergartner,” the old woman said. “I know how to take turns. Now dig in before it gets cold.”
They chatted about small things until their plates were nearly empty, then the talk turned to business.
“How are things at the restaurant this week?”
“About the same as last week after the grand re-opening,” Ellie said. “We’ve got about twice the number of customers we had before, and that number is holding steady. I haven’t had any more complaints about pizzas getting delivered cold either, so it seems like Jacob is really turning over a new leaf.”
“See? You’re a natural at this,” her grandmother said. She hesitated, her eyes examining her granddaughter’s face. “And how are you feeling about what happened?”
“Having a gun shoved in my face, you mean?” Ellie looked down at her plate. She had woken up in a panic a couple of times after dreaming that she was back at the car with Duncan. “I think it will take a while to get over it completely, but for the most part I’m fine.”
“You’re stronger than you know, dear,” the elderly woman said. “How about that sheriff? Have you spoken to him yet?”
“No,” Ellie said. “I’ve been pretty busy.”
The truth was, she had seen Russell twice since he had arrested Duncan and saved her, and both times he had given her only the most cursory of greetings. At least he had been willing to explain to her how he found her in time… and it was chilling to think that it had been nothing but chance. He had just been arriving to attend the pizzeria’s grand re-opening when he had seen his best friend threatening her with a gun. She was amazed that he had been able to put his personal feelings aside and figure out what was going on in time. She supposed that what Duncan had said was true; Russell had been a good friend, but an even better cop.
The fact remained that she had been key in uncovering the fact that his friend was a murderer. She didn’t blame him for resenting her, but couldn’t help being disappointed. He seemed like a genuinely good guy, and she had hoped at the very least to continue a friendly relationship with him.
“Things will straighten themselves out.” Her grandmother squeezed her hand reassuringly before getting up. “I’m glad you came home, Ellie. This old house sure is brighter with you around.”
Ellie smiled, watching the old woman as she bustled around the kitchen. She’s right, she thought. This is home. Maybe it’s not exactly what I wanted my middle-aged life to be like, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make something wonderful out of it anyway. I didn’t just turn a page in my life, I opened up a whole new book. And it’s up to me what sort of story it ends up being.
Pall Bearers and Pepperoni: Book 1 in The Papa Pacelli's Pizzeria Series Page 7