A Slice of Murder

by Chris Cavender

  “I’m kind of busy here,” I said as I finished scrubbing the glass in my hand. We did our dishes in the sink, though Joe had promised to buy me a dishwasher as soon as we got on our feet. Six years later and I was still doing them by hand, but I didn’t mind. It gave my thoughts a chance to wander as I scrubbed, rinsed, and dried. I’d read once that Agatha Christie said she came up with some of her best ideas while washing dishes, and I believed it.

  “Dry your hands and come on out. Tom Frances is back from his meeting with Sheila, and I want you to hear what he has to say.”

  “You’re his contact,” I said. “You talk to him and let me know what’s going on.”

  “Be that way,” she said. “Maybe I won’t tell you what he says.”

  I laughed. “I know you better than that. You won’t be able to help yourself.” As I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, I added, “Besides, I’m sure he’ll talk freer if I’m not standing there looking over your shoulder.”

  Maddy shook her head. “Suit yourself. I just thought I’d offer.”

  The second she was gone, I had to fight the impulse to dry my hands and see what the Realtor had to say, but I still thought my instincts were dead-on. The only way I knew him was from the photograph on his FOR SALE signs all over town. Evidently he and Maddy were much closer. Besides, I had dishes to wash. Who else would do them? Maddy? I didn’t think so. Greg wasn’t working tonight, though he’d be in tomorrow. With Josh gone, we were severely shorthanded. Maybe I’d have to go by the high school and put up another HELP WANTED notice, but I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. If it did, I wouldn’t fire my new hire when and if Josh came back. It wasn’t his fault that his dad had forbidden him to come to work for me, but I didn’t have much choice about hiring someone else, either. I had a business to run, and if our level of customers ever approached where we’d been before Richard Olsen’s murder, Maddy and I would never be able to do it with just Greg’s part-time help. Rita’s absence was leaving a real hole in our work schedule, but I wouldn’t welcome her back. I rewarded loyalty, a quality she clearly didn’t possess.

  Maddy came back just as I finished the last pizza pan in my sink. I’d have to do the dishes again at least twice more before the night was over, but I’d gotten a jump on things, so at least we weren’t falling behind.

  As I wiped my hands on a dish towel, I asked, “What did he have to say?”

  Maddy pretended to concentrate on something else. After a few seconds, she looked at me. “Sorry. Did you say something?”

  “You know I did. What did your Realtor friend tell you about his meeting with Sheila?”

  Maddy scrunched up her nose, then smiled. “I promised myself I was going to make you beg before I told you anything.”

  “You’re in for a long wait, then,” I said as I reached for a spare order pad. “While you’re waiting, you can cook and I’ll wait on customers.” I added with a smile, “Hey, that way we’re both waiting.”

  She grabbed my apron before I could get past her. “That’s not fair.”

  “Do you really want to get into an argument with me about what’s fair? Come on, Maddy, I don’t think either one of us wants to stroll down that road, now do we?”

  “Fine, give me the pad, and I’ll tell you.”

  Since I’d had no intention of working the front, it was an easy point to concede. “Now tell me.”

  There was no more jousting for position now. Maddy said, “Tom told me that when he arrived Sheila started off by telling him that she wanted at least fifty percent above what the neighborhood comps were.”

  “Comps?”

  “You know, comparable prices. Or is it compatible prices? How should I know? It means what other houses in the area are selling for.”

  “Comps. Got it,” I said. “What was his response to that?”

  “He told her she’d be sitting on the property for years if she meant what she said. Sheila told him that she didn’t care, that she wasn’t in any hurry to sell the house.”

  “That’s the attitude I got from her earlier,” I said. “How about you?”

  “Absolutely. That’s not the best part, though.”

  Maddy was smiling, and I knew I was going to have to drag it out of her, despite her initial acquiescence. Finally, I broke down and asked, “Go on and tell me. I know it’s killing you. What’s the best part?”

  “She got a telephone call in the middle of their conversation and excused herself for not more than four minutes, from the way Tom told it. When she walked back into the room, she said she’d made a mistake earlier. She said she wanted fifty percent of the comps, not a hundred and fifty.”

  “That’s odd. She must really want a quick sale.”

  “Tom said it was just as ridiculous to ask for too little as it had been trying to get too much. He said she’s throwing money away, and he tried to tell her just that, but she wouldn’t budge. Since Tom’s commission would be slashed as well, he refused the contract. It’s all pretty strange, isn’t it?”

  “But what does it mean?” I asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Just another fact for the list,” I said.

  We were still discussing it when the kitchen door opened, and our First Couple of Timber Ridge walked in. I wasn’t all that crazy about chatting with Faith and Steve Baron together, but from the set expressions on their faces, it didn’t appear that I was going to have much choice.

  At least Maddy was there with me. Two against two would have to do.

  “You have some impatient customers out front,” Steve said. “If they don’t get some service soon, I doubt they’ll stay.”

  “We can live without them,” Maddy said.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “You go ahead, Maddy. I can handle this.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I just nodded, and Maddy left, but not before giving me a warning look to be careful. There was no need for it; I planned to keep a butcher knife close, just in case I had to defend myself. I also noticed that my sister kept the kitchen door propped open, so at least she’d be able to hear me if I had to call out for her.

  “Can I help you two with something?” I said as I started chopping vegetables we didn’t need. It gave me something to do with my hands and had the added bonus of allowing me to arm myself without raising their suspicions. “Maddy would be glad to wait on you, if you’ll find a table out front. It won’t be long.”

  “We’re not here to eat,” Faith said. “We need to talk to you.”

  “Let me do the talking, honey,” Steve said.

  “Then do it,” Faith snapped at him. Was there trouble in paradise? I certainly hoped so, since I had my suspicions that at least one of them was a murderer, and possibly both were.

  Steve said, “Eleanor, did you actually think that my wife and I didn’t talk to each other? Faith and I trust each other completely, and we share everything.”

  “Even Richard Olsen?” I asked, clutching the knife a little tighter than I had to.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Steve said. “I told you, there was nothing to that, just rumors and idle speculation.”

  I had a little more than that, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to show it to him. Before I could come back with something snappy, Faith said, “Steve, say what we came to say. I can’t stand being here.”

  “Okay,” the mayor said. He looked at me, his normally jovial countenance replaced with a hard stare. “Eleanor, stay out of our lives. If you meddle any further, it will be at your own peril.”

  A chill swept through me, and I was glad I had a knife in my hand. “What are you going to do if I don’t? Are you going to stab me, too?”

  “Don’t say anything you might regret,” he said.

  “Trust me, there’s no chance of that happening,” I said.

  The mayor shook his head. His voice was full of anger as he spoke. “I didn’t stab him, and I’m not going to stab you. But what I can do is bring down a rain of fire on your head that will make
the plagues of Egypt seem like child’s play. All it would take is a word from me, and I can have so many health, fire, and building code inspectors in here that you’ll be shut down before the ink is dry on the paperwork. Is that what you want to happen?”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” I said. The man surely knew how to fight back. He was right, and we all knew it. No one can comply with every regulation and ordinance in the book, because some of them seemed to contradict each other. I didn’t care how clean a restaurant was, if an inspector had a grudge against the owner, he could find a reason to shut the place down, whether it merited it or not.

  “Try me,” he said.

  He turned to his wife, then asked, “Is there anything you’d like to add to that, dearest?”

  “No, I think you covered everything beautifully,” she said as she kissed his cheek. “Now let’s go home so I can fix you a proper meal.”

  “Remember what I said,” the mayor called out as he walked through the kitchen door back out into the dining room.

  “There are a great many things I’ll remember from this,” I said softly to myself. If he was going to take the gloves off, then so was I. I still had that letter from Faith to Richard, and if I had to take a full page out in the paper and publish it there, I would. He’d made one major mistake coming to the Slice tonight.

  He’d threatened the last real connection I had with my late husband.

  And that was one thing I would not tolerate.

  Maddy came back in, chatting without really looking at me. “What on earth was that all about? They trotted out of here like the kitchen was on fire. What did they say to you, anyway?” She looked at me then, and her voice hardened: “Eleanor, what happened? Did they threaten you?”

  “Not physically,” I said. “It was much worse than that.”

  “What could be worse than that?” she asked.

  “They threatened the Slice,” I explained.

  After I told her everything they’d said, Maddy’s face was as grim as I was sure mine was. “We’re not going to take that, are we?”

  “Do I look like I’m going to roll over and let them get away with it?” I asked.

  “Good,” she said after studying me. “We’re finally going to take some action.” There was a slight pause, and then she asked, “Do you happen to have any idea what that action might be?”

  “Not yet,” I said as my fist idly tapped my thigh. “When I come up with a plan, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “I’m all for that,” she said. “In the meantime, should I shoo our customers out, or do you want to finish the night?”

  I glanced at the clock and saw that it was eight-thirty. “We have less than two hours. We might as well make a little money.”

  As Maddy nodded, I added, “Besides, that will give me time to think about tomorrow. I want to be ready to hit the ground running.”

  “I’ll put my track shoes by the bed tonight,” she said. As she gave me three orders to make, she said, “If you need me, just give me a holler and I’ll be here.”

  “I know you will,” I said. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”

  “Good,” she said.

  As I made the pizzas and sandwiches for the orders as they came in, I kept thinking about the mayor’s threat. There was no doubt he could bring more scrutiny to my pizzeria than I wanted, but would he risk it? He was an elected official, accountable for his actions to the people of Timber Ridge. That meant he had to answer to them. Then again, before anyone realized what he was up to, I’d be out of business. If folks voted him out of office after I was shut down, it would be a hollow victory for me.

  But now I had more incentive to solve the murder than I’d had yet. Was the mayor threatening me to hide his wife’s secret affair, or was there something even darker he didn’t want exposed?

  Either way, I was more determined than ever to find out.

  Maddy came in a few minutes before ten and said, “There’s someone here to see you.”

  “Is it David Quinton?” I asked without really thinking the question through.

  “No,” Maddy said as she looked at me oddly. “Why, was he supposed to come by tonight?”

  “Not that I know of,” I said, trying to bury my question to her.

  Of course, she wasn’t about to let that go. “He really shook you up coming here with a date, didn’t he?”

  “No,” I said a little louder than I should have. “He’s free to see whoever he wants to. It’s not like it’s any of my business.”

  “If that’s true, then why are you so worked up over it?”

  “I’m not,” I snapped, then took a few deep breaths before speaking again. In a calmer voice, I repeated, “I’m not. I was just asking. Who wants to see me?”

  At that moment, the kitchen door opened and Bob Pickering came through, dangling a set of keys in front of him. “Did anyone here order a car with a brand new driver’s-side window?”

  “That’s me,” I said. “But you’d better keep your key. I might need you to bail me out again.”

  “No time soon, I hope. My supplier told me it would take him at least four days to get another window in stock. I won’t even tell you the snide comments he made about my workmanship.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” I said.

  “I told him, but he didn’t believe me.”

  “I’m sorry your reputation’s taking a hit on my account,” I said.

  “Are you kidding? I have more customers than I can handle now. Maybe a little bad-news spread will get me home before ten o’clock at night.”

  “I owe you a pizza,” I said as I dug into the refrigerator for the last of the dough I’d made that morning.

  “Can I take a rain check?” he asked.

  “Don’t tell me you’re tired of my pizzas after one night,” I said, halfway joking with him.

  “It’s not that.” He looked around, but Maddy had taken off the second we’d started talking, no doubt because she knew there wouldn’t be anything discussed about the murder we were trying to solve. “It’s just that I have a hard time eating cheese after nine o’clock. I must be getting old. I’ve got hair growing where it never did before, and I’m developing the digestive tract my grandmother had.”

  “My dad always used to say getting old wasn’t for sissies,” I said. “Not that I think you’re old.”

  “It is amazing, isn’t it? When I was your age, I used to think sixty was ancient. Now that I’m approaching it, though, I still feel like the pup I used to be.” He smiled, then added, “Not that I haven’t lost some of my bark.”

  “And bite as well, I’d wager,” I said. “The next time you’re in the mood for pizza, call me. If I haven’t heard from you in a week, I’ll make one and take it to your shop, so don’t try to get out of it.”

  “No worries there.” He frowned, then asked, “How are you, Eleanor?”

  I shrugged. “Being accused of murder and shot at in the same week has made this a pretty tough week to take, but I’ve had worse ones.”

  He patted my shoulder, and I saw a tender side of him he normally never showed the world. “I know you have. I’m here if you need me, you understand that, don’t you?”

  “I do,” I said, fighting the sudden urge to cry. It was amazing how being accused of murder could show me who my true friends really were, separating them from the ones who liked me only during the best of times.

  “Then I’m off,” he said. As he walked out the door, he waved good-bye. “As much as I enjoy these little chats, let’s try to put the next one off for a while. At least over a car window. What do you say?”

  “I’ll do my best, but I can’t make any promises.”

  He left laughing, and I suddenly felt better myself. Sometimes all it took was a kind word to pull me out of my funk, and at the moment, I could use every one of them I could get. It was late, and I was worn out, but at least I had my Subaru back, and that meant a modicum of independence. I loved my sister with all my heart, but being
with her around the clock was starting to wear on me, and I knew it was getting to her, too. We enjoyed our time together, but we needed some apart as well.

  After we finished cleaning up, Maddy and I locked up, then walked through the powdery snow to our cars. Less than an inch had fallen, and none of it had stuck to the roads. Still, it was pretty where it lay, and I enjoyed seeing the gray reflections of it on my drive home.

  As I walked up the steps, I felt my breath quicken a little.

  Someone was sitting on my front porch, and the person had either cut the power to my house or disabled the motion-detecting light.

  Either way, it was all I could do not to scream.

  “You should really get that light fixed,” a voice said.

  I felt my pulse start to slow when I realized that it was David Quinton.

  “It was working last night,” I said. “What are you doing here, David?”

  “I need to talk to you,” he said.

  It was dark enough so that I could make out his basic shape, but I still wasn’t able to see his face, or his expression. “Can’t it wait until morning?”

  “I doubt I’d get much sleep. Would you indulge me for one minute, if I promise to leave after I’ve had my say?”

  I rubbed my hands together. “Fine. But at least come inside. I can make us some coffee so we can have a civilized conversation.”

  “I’d rather we didn’t,” he said.

  “What, be civilized?”

  “No, go inside. What I have to say is best said in the shadows.”

  I peered into the gloom, but though my eyesight had adjusted a little, it still wasn’t as sharp as I hoped. “You’re being awfully mysterious.”

  “I don’t mean to be. What happened last night was a mistake. I never should have come to the Slice with a date.”

  “Is that what this is about? David, you’re free to do whatever you like. You certainly don’t owe me any explanations.”

  He stood and approached me, and I could smell his cologne. “I’d like to, though, don’t you see? Eleanor, if you just gave me one chance, I could convince you, but you won’t let me in.”

  “It’s too soon,” I said, taking a step back.