Ravioli Soup Murder (The Darling Deli Series Book 27)

by Patti Benning

  “It looks good,” the other woman murmured. “Hold on, what’s that?”

  Moira pointed her phone’s light over towards where Thelma was pointing. She saw a pool of some sort of dark liquid on the floor. Frowning, she walked closer, wishing that the basement’s lights worked better. It was hard to see what it was.

  “Oh, my goodness,” she gasped. “Get back.”

  Thelma made a small noise of shock and her hands flew to her mouth. “Is that… is that a body?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  * * *

  Moira waited out front with the others for the police to arrive. The small crowd of people that had been at the open house were muttering around her. It was hard to ignore their pointed looks in her direction. How many of them had seen her argument with Jonathan not long ago? She knew how it looked. She had been the one to find him in the basement, and the one to make the call. Thankfully, Thelma didn’t seem to notice. She was still in shock at having seen the dead man’s body.

  “Are you sure we couldn’t have helped him?” she asked. “That poor man… to think we saw him only twenty minutes before.”

  Moira had been the one to take his pulse. As much as she disliked him, she would have done everything she could have to save him if he was still alive when they had found him.

  “He was dead,” she said grimly. “I’m sorry. I know it’s shocking, and horrible. I wish we had been able to help too.”

  She heard the crunch of tires on gravel and turned to see a police car driving up the driveway, the lights on top flashing. She hoped it was Detective Jefferson. He knew her, at least, and would take her words at face value.

  Behind the police car came an ambulance, and behind that, she was surprised to see David’s vehicle.

  “Hold on,” she said to Thelma. She walked forward to meet David as he parked. “What are you doing here?”

  “Jefferson called me as soon as he got off the phone with you,” he said. “When I heard who had died, I thought I might be needed. He is our neighbor, after all. And you’re my wife. I’m not going to leave you to be questioned by the police on your own.”

  “Thank you,” she said, giving him a hug. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m not going to lie, this is going to look bad, but…”

  “Ms. Darling?” It was Detective Jefferson, who was making a beeline for them. “I need you to stay here until I can get your statement.”

  “I know,” she said. “I was just talking to David.”

  “Will you go and wait with the others until I’m ready? I need to take a look at the crime scene first.”

  Reluctantly, she left David and went to stand on the porch with the other people who had been at the open house. Eventually, Jefferson returned, leaving two of the uniformed officers who had accompanied him inside. She could hear the paramedics talking indoors as they prepared to bring the body to the coroner’s office.

  Detective Jefferson began calling people over and asking them questions. Moira waited beside Thelma, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. She hated feeling like this, feeling guilty even though she hadn’t done anything. She just hoped that he would believe her.

  At last, he called her name. Thelma gave her a faint smile and squeezed her arm reassuringly as she walked over.

  “Can I have your version of the events today?” he asked. “Start when you arrived at the open house, unless you think something pertinent to the case happened before then.”

  She told him everything that had happened from the time that she and Thelma had pulled into the open house up until she had called the police. She didn’t leave out her argument with Jonathan, or his false accusations against her.

  “Why would he think that you’re the one who slashed his tires?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “He has always had it out for me. He threatened to shoot my dogs if they got onto his property again. Though, they’ve never gotten out to my knowledge. I don’t understand why he thinks it’s them. I’ve told him more than once that I don’t let my dogs roam around the neighborhood freely.”

  “Ms. Darling… Moira.” He sighed. “Multiple people saw you engage in the argument with him. That, plus the fact that you are the one that found him, raises some questions I can’t ignore, especially given your history with him. Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything that might prove that you’re innocent in all of this?”

  “Thelma,” she said. She gestured toward where the other woman was standing. “She was with me. She can tell you that I never went into the basement without her, and I never saw him again after our argument. She’s my employee’s aunt, and we just met for the first time today, so she wouldn’t have any reason to lie to cover up something I did.”

  “If she can verify your story, that would help a lot. I’ll question her next. As long as she backs up what you are saying, you’re free to go. I am, however, going to ask you to stay in town and keep in contact with me in case I need anything else from you.”

  “I understand. I know how this looks, but I promise, I had nothing to do with his death.”

  It was with relief that she walked through her front door half an hour later. David was right behind her, and she could tell by his stony expression that he was deeply worried.

  “That was close,” he said. “I know you’ve had people point the finger at you before, but it has never looked this bad. I’m glad that Thelma was there to vouch for you. I can’t stand to think what might have happened if she hadn’t been there with you the entire time.”

  “Oh, David, it was so frightening,” she said. “I know I’m innocent, but even I was starting to feel guilty. I hate to think that Detective Jefferson believes I might have had something to do with this. He’s known me for years. How could he think I would kill someone?”

  “He’s just doing his job,” her husband said. “You’re free, that’s what matters. The important thing now is figuring out who actually killed him. He lived across the street from us. The killer could still be around.”

  “It must be someone he knows. It had to have been someone at the open house,” she said. “I spoke to him only fifteen or twenty minutes before I found his body. Whoever killed him was there while Thelma and I were there. We would’ve seen them.”

  “Moira, I don’t think that you should be involved in this case at all.” She began to protest, and he raised an eyebrow. “You are already a suspect, and considering the history that you have with Jonathan, the more Detective Jefferson digs into this, the guiltier you’re going to look. I know that Thelma is your alibi, but she’s one person. We both know you’re innocent, but if the police have any reason to suspect that she was lying, they could make things very difficult for you.”

  “She did lie. She told Jefferson she didn’t take her eyes off me once, but she went to the bathroom right after Jonathan and I started talking.”

  “I think she was just trying to help you,” he said. “I don’t necessarily agree with her lying to the police, but I think bringing it up now would make things worse. Now, do you promise not to get involved?”

  She sighed. “I don’t see how you expect me to completely forget about all of this. Like you said, he is our neighbor. And yeah, I didn’t like him very much, but when a murder happens in a community, it affects all of us.” Something occurred to her. “Didn’t you say that he was involved in one of your cases a couple of weeks back?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was that case about? Is it possible that it had something to do with his murder?”

  David hesitated. “I was tailing him as part of an adultery case. However, I found absolutely no evidence that he was involved with my client’s wife. Finding out that he was selling the house was one of the reasons my client dropped the case. He thought if Jonathan was moving away, he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore, and I suppose he just got tired of paying me for my time when I wasn’t turning anything up.”

  “Just because you didn’t find anything doesn’t mean that he wasn’t hav
ing an affair with your client’s wife,” she pointed out. “You have to tell the police. Your client might be a murder suspect.”

  “I will,” he promised. “I’ll get the files from the office tomorrow and drop them off at the police station. I promise you, the police will find whoever killed him. I just need you to stay away from this one, okay?”

  He pulled her closer and kissed her. She let herself relax, knowing that he was right. She was already waist deep in Jonathan’s murder case. If the police had anything more tying her to his death, she might spend more than a few nights in jail.

  CHAPTER SIX

  * * *

  With Jonathan’s death weighing down on her, it was difficult for Moira to go into work the next day and act as if everything was okay. She kept expecting to see a police car pull up behind her with lights flashing. She was innocent, but she knew that the evidence didn’t make her look that way.

  “Oh, my goodness, Ms. D.,” Allison said when she came through the door. “I didn’t expect to see you today. My aunt told me everything that happened.”

  “I would rather be here than sitting at home thinking about it all,” Moira said. “How is she doing? Finding the body was quite a shock for both of us.”

  “She’s spending the day in her hotel room,” Allison said. “She’s pretty upset. I would be too, if I had stumbled onto a dead body. She told me he was your neighbor. I’m sorry. You must’ve known him.”

  “I didn’t know him very well,” she replied, truthfully. “He wasn’t the friendliest man in the world. Still, it’s horrible what happened to him.”

  After reassuring her employee that she really was doing okay, she went to the kitchen to get started on the soup of the day. She had found the recipe for Tuscan ravioli soup online a couple of weeks ago, and had just recently found it again, saved to her computer. It would be the perfect hearty soup for a cold day like this.

  She began by cooking the ground sausage in a shallow pan on top of the stove. The scent of the spiced meat quickly filled the room, overwhelming the sweeter smell of the breakfast cookies and the quiches that they served in the morning. In a large pot, she measured out a couple of quarts of chicken stock and let that begin to simmer while she turned her attention back to the cooking meat.

  Once the sausage had been browned, she drained the grease out of the pan and added chopped onions, butter, and garlic. Once the onions were caramelized, she transferred the sausage, garlic, and onions to the pot with the chicken broth. While she stirred the soup base, she gradually added crushed tomatoes and fresh baby spinach.

  By now, it was beginning to look and smell like soup. She took a clean spoon and tasted some of the broth, adding a couple of spices to enhance the flavor. Once the mixture got up to a healthy boil, she dumped in a package of four cheese ravioli. While the pasta cooked, she shredded a wedge of Parmesan cheese. She turned the temperature on the soup down until it was just simmering, and stirred the cheese in until it was fully melted. She added just a dollop of heavy cream and turned the temperature down even more.

  While she waited for the soup to finish cooking, she pulled out a loaf of white bread and began to slice it, slathering the slices with a homemade butter and garlic sauce before placing them in the oven. The soup would be served with homemade garlic bread. She couldn’t think of better comfort food.

  “Ms. D.?” Allison asked, poking her head into the kitchen. “There’s someone out here that wants to talk to you about a catering event.”

  “I’ll be right out,” she said. “You come on back here. You can try some of the soup if you want. Let me know what you think.”

  “It smells great,” her employee said. “Let me just finish up with this customer, and I’ll be back.”

  Moira smiled, glad that she had Allison with her at the deli today. Her employee’s cheery countenance was just what she needed right now. Well, what she really needed was to find out who had killed Jonathan Goodman, but she had promised David that she wouldn’t get involved. If she started poking around, it would only complicate things. She didn’t want Detective Jefferson to waste valuable time looking at her as a suspect, not when the real killer was out there somewhere.

  Forcing thoughts of the murder out of her mind, she went out front to meet with the catering client. In a pleasant surprise, the woman had simply come to thank her for a job well done. Jenny and Cameron, two of her newer employees, had done an impressive job at taking over that side of things. Moira enjoyed going on the catering events occasionally, but they often took all day, and when the deli was at its busiest, she just couldn’t afford to be gone for that long.

  Promising to pass on the message to the two of them, she thanked the woman for coming in. Returning to the kitchen, she found Allison finishing up a small bowl of soup.

  “How was it?” she asked.

  “It was delicious,” her employee said. “Do you want me to go change the sign on the blackboard? It’s about lunch time, and people will be wanting soup instead of mini quiches.”

  “Go ahead,” she said, smiling. She had just turned back to the stove to try the soup herself when her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. She checked the caller ID and saw that it was Candice. She took the call.

  “Hi, sweetie. How are things going down there?”

  “Busy,” her daughter said. “I love working at this chocolate shop, although it makes me miss having my own store. My boss is nice though, and it feels good to be managing a business again, even if it isn’t my own.”

  “How is Eli doing?”

  “He’s doing wonderfully,” Candice said. “That’s actually why I’m calling. The rehabilitation center cleared him to move out and into our apartment, as long as he keeps going back twice a week for physical therapy. He’s walking on crutches now. They think that he’ll always have a slight limp, but he should be able to walk unassisted by Christmas time.”

  “Oh, I’m so happy to hear that,” Moira said. “Does Reggie know?”

  “Yes, he’s the first person that Eli called when he got the news. We are planning on visiting sometime this week. We want to see you, David, and everyone. How is everything there?”

  “It’s been… well, to be honest, not that great.” She told her daughter about Jonathan’s murder.

  “That’s horrible,” the young woman said. “Isn’t he the one that was always complaining about the dogs?”

  “Yes, that’s him,” she said. “To make matters worse, he and I got into an argument not long before he died, and a couple of people witnessed it.”

  “So… are you a suspect?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Moira said. “It’s hard not to take it personally. I know Detective Jefferson has to do his job, but I’ve known him for years. It stings to think that someone who knows me personally would think that I would kill somebody.”

  “Well, he probably doesn’t really think that you did,” her daughter said. “If he thought you were actually the murderer, he would probably have arrested you, don’t you think?”

  “That’s true,” she said. “I guess I should take the fact that I’m walking around free right now as a good sign.”

  “Definitely. Anyway, does this weekend work for you guys? I am planning on staying for a couple of days. We really want to get that house rented out.”

  “This weekend would be wonderful,” Moira said. “It will be great to see both of you again. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Mom. I’ll call you when I know what time we’ll be there. Can we stay with you? I almost forgot to ask.”

  “Of course. I’ll make sure the guest bedroom is ready. Are you bringing Felix too?”

  “Sure, he’d probably like to visit. Thanks, Mom. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  Moira said her goodbyes and hung up. She put the phone back into her pocket, smiling. She couldn’t wait to see her daughter and her son-in-law again. A visit from Candice made the whole week seem brighter.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  * * *

&nb
sp; “I need to run to the brewery for a few hours. Karissa was supposed to meet someone there to talk about our new distribution route, but she’s not feeling well. Will you be okay here? I have that one client in half an hour, but it should be an easy case. Just take down all of her information, and follow that sheet I printed out for you.”

  “I can handle it,” she promised. “You go do what you need to do. I have managed to run the deli myself. I think I can handle one client here.”

  “I know you can,” he said. “I just feel bad leaving you with all of this. You have your own business to run. You shouldn’t need to do mine too.”

  “I volunteered,” she said. “I enjoyed helping out here before. I’m glad to help again, and for as long as you need it.”