Garden Vegetable Murder: Book 12 of The Darling Deli Series

by Patti Benning

  She was about to tell Kent a firm, final “no,” when thoughts of everything she would gain by selling the deli slipped into her head. I would be able to spend so much more time with Keeva and Maverick, she thought. I could fence my entire property for them, so they could run around without any danger of getting lost. I might even be able to volunteer to help other animals in need—the animal shelter is always asking for people to foster homeless pets for them.

  The dilemma that she had been mulling over all week had gotten no simpler. She felt torn completely in half by the two options, and being put on the spot like this certainly made it no easier. Where was David when she needed him? She wanted more than anything to be able to talk to him about this. Such a life-changing decision surely shouldn’t be made on her own.

  You already talked to him about this, she told herself. You just didn’t like his answer. His nonchalant response still miffed her. This was a huge life change that she was pondering, after all.

  The deli door swung open behind them, startling them all out of the tense silence that had fallen while she thought. She turned, surprised to see Silas standing just inside the closed door of the deli.

  “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, glancing between the six of them.

  Moira realized how strange they must look to him, facing off in the middle of the deli like two cowboys in a western.

  “No, it’s fine,” she said. “Don’t leave, I just need a moment. Kent, may I have a few minutes to talk to my daughter? Then I promise you’ll have your answer.”

  He nodded reluctantly and leaned against the counter, glancing at his watch. Moira told her employees to get both him and Silas something if they wanted it, then led her daughter into the kitchen and out the side door, where they could have at least a semblance of privacy in the alley outside the deli.

  “What’s this all about, Mom?” her daughter asked.

  “Candice— that man wants to buy the deli. And he’s offering a lot of money for it.”

  She told her daughter the figure and gave the young woman a moment to get over her amazement. Candice shook her head, then frowned.

  “But you’re not going to sell it, right?”

  “You don’t think I should?” she asked the young woman. “I have my doubts, of course, but it seems like the offer of a lifetime.”

  “It’s your deli though, Mom,” her daughter said. “I can’t really imagine it being owned by someone else, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “And besides, didn’t you always tell me that happiness is more important than when I was growing up? The deli makes you happy, doesn’t it?”

  “Definitely,” Moira said firmly. “Even though it keeps me way too busy sometimes, I love it.”

  “There you go: don’t sell something you love.”

  “Thank you, Candice. You’re my voice of reason.” She embraced her daughter suddenly, then let go. “I should have told you about all of this when he first approached me, instead of agonizing over it all week.”

  Feeling much more confident now that her decision was made, she marched back inside. Kent seemed to be able to read her answer on his face, because his own expression turned grim before she even spoke.

  “Sorry, but I’ve decided not to sell the deli,” she told him. “Thank you for your offer, it was very generous, but this place really is priceless to me.”

  His lips tight, he nodded once and left without saying a word. The instant the deli’s door swung shut behind him, she felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Smiling, she turned to Silas, only to be interrupted by Darrin.

  “Sorry, Ms. D, but your cell phone’s ringing. It’s David.”

  Wow, she thought as she hurried over to the register to grab it. Maybe Candice really is my good luck charm. Things are so much better already, and she’s barely been back an hour.

  “It’s great to hear from you,” she said when she answered the phone, stepping outside for privacy.

  “Sorry I’ve been hard to reach lately,” he said sincerely. “There’s a lot that I need to tell you. Do you want to meet after work tonight?”

  “Definitely,” she said. “Want to meet at my house? We can always go out later if we want.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She was relieved to hear real warmth in his voice again.

  “Get there at, say… nine o’clock?” That would give her a chance to change into fresh clothes after work before he got there. Bean and noodle soup smelled great when it was for lunch, but less good when the scent clung to her clothing.

  “Nine o’clock it is.”

  “Drive safely, all right?” he said. “I always worry about you.”

  “Of course,” she said. She paused, considering whether or not it was a good idea to push him for more information, then added, “did you find out who murdered Fred yet?”

  “No,” he told her. “But we’re getting close, I can feel it. That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about. I still think whoever killed Fred was trying to get to me, and with all of the things that have been happening to you lately… well, I’m worried that they might target you next. Keep an extra eye out, okay, Moira?”

  The deli owner swallowed, but agreed. “I will, David, I promise.”

  “Good. See you tonight, all right? I miss you.”

  Smiling despite his warning, she hung up and went back inside. As far as she was concerned, the rest of the day wouldn’t be able to pass quickly enough.

  “Good news?” Silas asked when she joined him at his table.

  “Yes. Well, sort of. This has been a crazy week.”

  “I bet,” he said. “Look, I don’t want to take more of your time if you don’t want me to, but tonight’s my last night in town, and I was wondering, would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

  She looked at his handsome outdoorsman’s face, and though she felt bad for his sake, there was no pang of regret. David truly made her happy, and she would trade a thousand dates with Silas for just one with him.

  “Sorry,” she said. “But I already have plans. Maybe if you come back to town again sometime we can grab a coffee and catch up.”

  “All right, I guess.” She could tell he was disappointed. “It was nice meeting you anyway, Moira. I’ll see you later.”

  He got up and left, leaving the happy deli owner free to go find her daughter and fill her in on everything else that had happened over the past week and a half.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Feeling much better now that she had made a firm decision to keep the deli, Moira couldn’t help but smile to herself as she locked up that evening. Even though she was concerned about her conversation with David tonight, she was relieved that she would finally get a chance to talk with him seriously about what had been bothering him. She hoped they weren’t about to break up, but she knew that if they did, she would still have a lot of people who cared about her in her life.

  She got in her car and started it, pausing for a moment to smile at her beloved deli. The dim night lighting gave the interior a warm glow, making it seem more like home than ever. She really did love the place. Every time she looked at it, it reminded her of all that she had accomplished. She had beat the odds so many times, and had come so far - especially for a single mother. If running the deli has taught me anything, it’s that I’m not limited by my age or the fact that I’m a woman, she thought. All those years I spent dreaming of running my own business, the only thing that was holding me back was myself.

  The streetlights in town seemed to be shining extra brightly that night, or maybe it was just the mood that she was in. Everything seemed beautiful and full of potential. Even the soft patter of rain that began falling as she left town proper and ventured onto the much darker state roads didn’t dampen her spirits. In fact, she cracked a window and let the smells of fresh ozone and wet pavement into her car.

  Her phone rang, the screen lighting up with David’s name as it buzzed in the cup holder. She hesitated
for only a moment—she wasn’t a fan of driving while distracted by a conversation on the phone, but she was supposed to meet him shortly, and the matter might be important.

  “Hi,” she said, wondering if he could hear the smile in her voice. She steered with one hand, the other pressing the phone to her ear.

  “Hi,” he replied. She thought he sounded happier than he had in a while. “I just wanted to let you know that I got done sooner than I expected. Is it all right if I head over to your place now?”

  “Sure,” she said. “I’m on my way back from the deli right now myself.”

  She frowned as bright headlights appeared behind her. Checking her speedometer and seeing that she was gong a few miles per hour under the speed limit, she urged her car faster. There was no sense in holding someone else up, after all.

  Speeding up didn’t seem to help; the person in the other vehicle was still approaching from behind, and fast, drawing ever nearer. They were coming up to a big curve in the road, and Moira found herself hoping that the other person didn’t try passing her then. She didn’t want them to risk getting into a crash.

  “Moira?” David asked over the phone.

  “Sorry, I’m still here,” she said. “Someone’s just coming up behind my car too fast and—”

  The other vehicle collided with her car with sudden, brutal impact. Her cell phone went flying out of her hand, and her forehead struck the driver’s side window with a sharp crack. Her car spun out of control, the tires screeching over the pavement, until it hit the railing on the side of the road. She became weightless for a moment as her car flipped over the guardrail and settled upside down with a crunch. Dazed, Moira heard the engine sputter and die. She felt something wet dripping from her head, and it took her a second to realize that it must be blood. Her seatbelt was the only thing keeping her in her seat; her head was hanging a few inches above the roof of her car, which was now the ground. The driver’s side window was shattered, along with the windshield.

  Pain shooting through her body from various bumps and contusions, Moira groggily felt her forehead with a hand. The cut there was by far the worst one, and she felt sick when her hand came away wet with her own blood.

  The sound of footsteps on pavement jerked her out of her daze. An engine was idling somewhere nearby. Had the police already come to cut her out? No… it was too soon for that. Someone… someone had driven her off the road, she remembered now. And whoever it was was only moments from finding her strapped helplessly inside her totaled car.

  She struggled, trying to figure out a way to escape without further injuring herself. Her mind seemed unable to focus, and kept jumping from the situation at hand to trying to remember if she had ever figured out who had slit her tires and shot up her house. No… she hadn’t. It suddenly seemed vitally important that she know who was about to drag her out of her vehicle. She closed her eyes, thinking frantically. Who wanted to hurt her? Who had she gotten on the wrong side of recently?

  The answer came to her in a sudden flash. Kent! she thought. The businessman who wanted to buy her deli so badly. He must have been behind everything: the slashed tires, the attack on her house, the mysterious notes—all tactics to throw her off balance and pressure her into selling the deli. Now that she had denied him once and for all, he must have decided to finish the job. Maybe he hoped to buy the deli from Candice after he killed her.

  Resigned to the fact that she wasn’t going to get out of the car without help from somebody, friend or foe, she quit struggling and decided to conserve her energy. The man’s shoes were in her range of vision now, and any second she would see Kent’s face with that saccharine smile peering at her through the broken car window. She had an acerbic remark all ready to go, determined to let him know that she wouldn’t go down easily.

  When the man paused in front of the car and bent over to look at her, she was shocked into silence to see not Kent, but Silas peering in at her. He smiled, and for a bizarre moment she thought that this was all a mistake and he was here to rescue her. Then she saw the long, cruel-looking hunting knife on his belt, and registered the calm look in his eyes that had seemed so warm only hours before.

  “I… I don’t understand,” she managed to gasp. The seatbelt was cutting into her ribcage, making it hard to breathe. “You? Why?”

  “Don’t look so betrayed,” he chided, crouching down and yanking the driver’s door open. She winced as he drew his knife, but he only used it to saw at the seatbelt that was holding her securely inside the car. After only a few moments, the belt gave way and she fell painfully from her seat. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out, not giving her a chance to recover before he propped her up against a tree.

  “What did I do?” she asked, too dazed to do anything but let him position her how he wanted.

  “You didn’t do anything, Moira” he said as he squatted in front of her, just as if the two of them were having a normal conversation. “In fact, I enjoyed talking with you. If you had agreed to come to dinner with me tonight, I would have treated you to a nice date before finishing things like this. Wouldn’t that have been nice?”

  “You’re crazy,” she croaked.

  “No.” His expression darkened. “I’m getting my revenge, and enjoying every moment of it. Now hold still. I want to finish this before someone drives by and sees the wreck. I want David to be the one to find you.”

  David? she wondered. What did David have to do with this? Her curiosity was short lived. Without giving her a chance to say anything else, Silas grabbed her roughly by the hair and tilted her head back. She felt the sharp, cold blade of the knife’s edge on her throat, and closed her eyes. She knew she was out of options. She was too weak to fight, and too dazed to think of any sort of plan. All she could do was hope that it would be fast and painless as possible.

  The sound of tires screeching and a sudden flood of light made her snap her eyes open a second later. The blade dropped away from her throat, and Silas jumped up, cursing. A car had come from nowhere. Parked next to Silas’s vehicle, its headlights illuminated everything off the side of the road. Moira got the first look at the wreckage of her car and gulped. It was shocking that she had survived that; she should be dead already.

  “Put the knife down, Silas,” demanded a familiar voice from somewhere in the darkness behind the blazing headlights. Relief swept through Moira. David. David had come to the rescue. Everything would be all right now, wouldn’t it?

  “Ten years,” Silas said coldly. “Ten years of my life stolen from me, ten years spent rotting away in a prison cell thanks to you. I’m long past putting down the knife, David.”

  For a terrifying moment, Moira thought that Silas was going to charge towards David, knife raised like a sword. She began to shout out a warning when she saw Silas turn towards her instead. She was much closer to him than David was, and she thought she could read the decision in his eyes as he made it. He would kill her because he knew her death would hurt David, and he wanted to cause the private investigator as much pain as he could.

  Silas turned to give a twisted, angry sneer at the headlights, behind which David was still hidden. Then everything happened at once. The madman lunged at her, and two deafening shots rang out. Silas stumbled, his face shocked, then toppled. David rushed forward, his gun trained on the other man. Somehow he managed to get Silas’s hands cuffed behind his back before holstering the gun. The killer safely out of the way, he turned to Moira and tenderly checked her over. She felt sure that he was saying something to her, but her head was beginning to feel cold and all of the noises sounded like they were far away. She wasn’t sure if she was blacking out, fainting, or dying from loss of blood, but at least whatever was happening, it was happening in the safety of David’s arms.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Her teeth chattering, Moira pulled the wool blanket more tightly around herself. She sat alone in the front passenger seat of David’s car. The ambulance carrying Silas had already left, and only one police cruiser
remained at the scene. David was standing near it, his face illuminated in the flashing lights as he spoke to Detective Jefferson.

  She was beyond thankful for David’s speedy appearance. No matter what else was going on between them, it seemed like she could still count on him when it was important. She knew very well that if it hadn’t been for him sensing that something was wrong when she dropped the call, she would be dead right now. It was a chilling thought.

  I can’t believe it was Silas, she thought, still not over the shock of seeing his face twisted into a cruel leer as he’d peered through the car’s window. How can I ever trust someone again? He seemed like such a genuinely nice man. She had a lot of questions to ask David about him, that was for sure. This wasn’t the first time David’s work had coincided with her own world, but it was definitely the scariest. Did the private investigator have more enemies out there like Silas? If so, was it safe for her to be around him?

  She closed her eyes, not opening them until a sharp rap at the window jolted her out of the half doze that she had entered. Officer Catto, his youthful face wearing a concerned expression, was peering in at her. Fumbling, she pressed the button to roll the window down partway.

  “Are you okay, Ms. Darling?” he asked. “Detective Jefferson wanted me to offer you a second blanket—it was in the back of the police cruiser. Here, I can see you shivering.”

  He pushed the folded-up blanket through the window, then handed her a water bottle as well.

  “Drinking something might help you feel better,” he added. She was touched by his concern, and glad for the water—the pain pills the paramedic had given her were still sitting in a little paper cup on the dashboard, and a drink would help them go down. Her head was starting to throb.

  “Thanks,” she said. “And I’m sorry for causing so much trouble. I doubt this is how you wanted to spend your evening.”