“Sure,” Moira said. “I don’t know anything about this process, but knowing how many to expect is a good start.”
She and Hazel followed the vet to another room, where two vet techs took over. They lifted Hazel up onto a table and lay her gently on her side. While one of them stayed at her head to keep her calm, the other arranged the x-ray equipment above her. At last the picture was taken, Hazel was free to get up, and the three humans were able to gather around a computer to look at the results.
“I see six,” one of the vet techs said. The other one agreed, and the two of them pointed out the tiny skeletons to Moira. “You’ll have your hands full.”
The deli owner looked down at Hazel, bemused by how the day had turned out. Unless she could find someone else to take the dog, it looked like she most certainly was going to have her hands—well, hand—full for the next few weeks.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I am not looking forward to this,” Moira muttered. It was her first catering event since the fire, and she had no idea how she was going to get through it. Would it be better to send Darrin or Dante to go in my stead? It was tempting, but she knew that the Browns were expecting her to be there. Mrs. Brown had even specifically told her how much it meant that she was able to be there.
“Edward used to stop in at your deli nearly every day for lunch. It’s fitting that his favorite restaurant serves the food for his retirement party. And he always speaks so highly of you, dear,” the older woman had said.
There was no way she could switch places with one of her employees at the last moment like this, not after having Darrin reassure the poor woman that everything was still on schedule the other day. However, she had not only her own comfort to worry about, but Hazel’s. The pregnant dog had been with her for a few days already, and was settling in nicely despite obviously being near the end of her pregnancy. Moira, on the vet’s advice, had purchased supplies in preparation for the birth: a baby gate, a small kiddie pool, a bunch of clean new sheets, and a heating pad, and Hazel had been gated inside the mud room to make sure she didn’t try to have her puppies somewhere inconvenient like under Moira’s bed. Candice was there watching her now, but the deli owner would feel much better once she was able to be with the dog herself. What if Hazel went into labor while she was away catering? Would Candice be able to handle it?
“Ready, Ms. D?” Meg asked cheerily as she pushed her way through the deli’s front door. “The guys just finished loading everything up, and I double-checked the list as they went so we should be good to go.”
“Thank you, Meg,” the deli owner said. “I feel bad not being able to help more.”
“Don’t worry, Ms. D,” her employee said. “Everyone’s happy to pick up the slack for you when you need us too. After all, you’ve done it for all of us.”
“I suppose I should be grateful that it’s only for a few weeks. If that beam had hit me on the head, I might have ended up as a vegetable… and not the kind you put in soup.”
Over the last few days she had see-sawed between self-pity and feeling amazingly lucky. She figured it was probably normal to be a little bit emotionally unstable after having such a traumatic event happen, though she wished her feelings would stabilize. She was tired of thinking about the fire, tired of having the flickering flames and cloying smoke appear every time she closed her eyes.
***
Mr. Brown had a small hobby farm just outside of town. He had a few alpacas, a couple of beehives, and the best pears that Moira had ever tasted. He had also worked as an editor for the Maple Creek newspaper, which was the job that he was retiring from today.
His wife greeted them when they pulled into the driveway and waved them back behind the house where a tent, a smaller version of the one used at Mr. Samwell’s corn maze, was giving shade to a long table and a few picnic tables. A wooden podium stood at one end of the tent, presumably for makers of toasts and speeches.
“You can just set up however you’d like, Ms. Darling,” said Mrs. Brown. “My husband will be joining us with his work friends soon. Even the mayor will be here, did I tell you?”
Mayor Willis was an old acquaintance of Moira’s. Earlier that year he had accused her of poisoning his son. Then she had saved his life, and he had apologized for his mistake, but their encounters had been awkward ever since.
Great, she thought. This is the last thing I need. I just need to remember to keep a smile on my face, and do my best to ignore this infernal cast. There was already an unreachable itch that was driving her crazy. This was going to be a long day.
By the time she and Meg had got the table set up and all of the food out, people had begun arriving. To the deli owner’s surprise, a lot of them seemed to recognize her. For some reason everyone seemed to be whispering about her, giving an occasional nod toward her as if she was the sole subject of their conversations.
“What’s going on?” she asked her employee quietly. “Do I have something on my face or something?”
“No, Ms. D, it’s probably just that they recognize you from that video,” the young woman replied.
“What video?” Moira asked, confused.
“The one of you running into the barn to try to save those people.” At her boss’s blank look, Meg pulled out her phone and opened a website. Fingers moving quickly, she typed something, then handed the phone to Moira. “There you go.”
The deli owner watched the video play on the tiny screen, then frowned and replayed it. Sure enough, it was a video of her, grainy from the camera’s zoom, running into the burning barn. According to the comments beneath the video, people thought she was heroic, though she thought the video just made her look stupid. What sort of person ran toward a burning building?
“How did this get online?” she asked her employee.
“I don’t know, but there’s a few of them. A couple of people must have been recording when you ran toward the building like that.”
Moira’s mind was racing. If there was a video of her running into the building, then just maybe there was a video of the other person running out of the building? She mentioned it to Meg, but unfortunately the young woman shook her head.
“I haven’t seen anything,” she said. “Wouldn’t the police have already checked?”
The deli owner knew that she was right. She returned the young woman’s phone, and turned her attention back to the task at hand: greeting the gathering group of people who kept staring at her as if she were some sort of celebrity.
Once she got over the initial threshold of awkwardness, the retirement party went better than she had expected. The mayor gave her a hearty greeting and thanked her for once again showing her bravery, and a few other people took business cards from the little pile at the end of the table. The food was a great hit, as usual, and Mr. Brown was nothing but grateful to her.
“Hey, look,” Meg said, nudging her. When the deli owner looked up at her, she nodded to their right. “That guy’s been staring at us for a while. Oh, he must have seen me. He’s coming over.”
The man in question was tall, with a shaved head. Moira thought he was probably attempting to cover up early hair loss. He looked like he was in his thirties, and was vaguely familiar. Where had she seen him before?
“Zander Marsh,” he said by way of greeting when he got to the table. “I’ve been waiting until it looked like this table was in a bit of a lull before coming over, as I was hoping to talk business. Not that I’d turn down a sandwich.”
He gave them a crooked smile, and Moira noticed a gold earring in his left ear.
“Sure,” she said. “Help yourself. What was it that you wanted to talk about?”
“Well, with poor Mr. Samwell in an early grave, may he rest in peace, there are some new opportunities for some of the other farmers in the area. Most of us would prefer to sell our produce locally, since it saves on shipping costs, but of course the demand isn’t high enough to satisfy all of us. I don’t like looking like I’m jumping on this opportunity be
fore the poor man is even properly buried, but if I don’t, someone else will. Here’s my business card. If you’d like to give me a call sometime, we can set up a meeting to discuss a business partnership similar to the one you and Mr. Samwell had.”
He handed her a card, then extended his hand, which she shook.
“I look forward to doing business with you, Ms. Darling.”
He took one of the turkey and cheese sandwiches, flashed her another of his crooked smiles, and left. Bemused, Moira put the card into her pocket. She wasn’t sure if she would give him a call or not, but it definitely gave her something else to think about. Mr. Samwell’s death hadn’t just effected his immediate family, but the whole community. Could business have been a motive for his murder?
CHAPTER EIGHT
“All in all, it was a very pleasant little party,” Moira said. She was sitting at her kitchen table with a mug of tea, relieved to be able to relax at last. “The worst thing is this cast. I’m utterly sick of it.”
“How long do you have to have it on?” Martha asked. Her voice, coming from the speaker on Moira’s phone, was tinny, but having only one functioning arm, Moira was unable to drink tea and talk with her friend at the same time.
“The doctor said he’ll re-evaluate in four more weeks,” the deli owner said. “It’s going to be wonderful to get it off.”
“I’ll bet.” The other woman chuckled. “You must be going crazy, having to do everything with your left hand. I think taking it easy for a few weeks is going to be good for you. I still can’t believe that you went inside a burning building willingly.”
“No one else was doing anything,” Moira said with a sigh. “I had to at least try to get those men out. I didn’t really think about it.”
“Poor David must have had a heart attack when he couldn’t find you.”
“I’m sure he nearly did. The poor man must be sick of worrying about me. I’m surprised he’s still hanging around after everything he’s gone through with me.”
“Oh, Moira, the man’s smitten, it’s obvious for anyone to see.”
Moira blushed, putting her hand to her face even though she knew her friend couldn’t see it.
“I don’t know…”
“He is, trust me. You got lucky when you found him.”
“I know that,” she agreed. “Beyond lucky. He’s saved my life more times than I can count, and the thought of seeing him makes my heart beat faster. I don’t think it gets much better than that.”
She smiled to herself, enjoying the conversation. She had been reluctant to admit her feelings for David to anyone, even herself, at first, but knowing that he returned them made all the difference. Who would have guessed that she would have found such happiness at her age, after having been married and divorced once? She had been prepared to spend the rest of her life alone, but now she was beginning to see another path, thanks to David.
“I’ve got a date with him in a couple of days,” she added. “It will be the first time we’ve gone out since I got hurt—we’ve mostly been staying in. I’ve got to admit; I’m looking forward to it quite a bit.”
“I’m glad for you, sweetie,” her friend said. “Though I think Denise and I are both a bit jealous. Neither of us has had much luck in the man department lately. Now that she and her husband are officially separated, she can at least start dating again.”
“Oh, how nice for her,” Moira said. “I’m happy that she’s able to start on the next part of her life at last. I know what it’s like to be in a toxic relationship, and leaving it can only do her good.”
She paused, cocking her head toward the mudroom. Had she heard a noise? She set her tea down and got up to check, listening to her friend talk over the speaker phone as she went.
Sure enough, Hazel was lying on her side in the kiddie pool and next to her was a tiny black puppy.
“I’ve got to go,” Moira said quickly to Martha. “Hazel’s having her puppies.”
She hung the phone up without waiting for an answer, certain her friend would understand. Then she stepped over the baby gate and grabbed one of the soft hand towels that she had set aside for this purpose and set to drying the little puppy—a girl! —while Hazel began giving birth to the next one.
Once the little black puppy was dry and squirming, making soft noises as it wriggled around in her hand, she put it in a laundry basket with a heating pad and clean towels that she had prepared for this moment. The puppy would stay warm and safe in there while Moira and Hazel turned their attention to the next one.
Four hours later, six healthy puppies were happily nursing with their mom while Moira began a load of laundry. There were fresh clean blankets in the kiddie pool, and she had put the heating pad in the center of the pool between two blankets so the puppies could lie on it if they got cold. Hazel had been outside to relieve herself already, and had eaten a big bowl full of softened kibble mixed with a calcium supplement that the vet had said would help ensure she had enough milk. Exhausted, though probably nowhere near as tired as the mother dog was, Moira sat down next to the kiddie pool and looked at the puppies.
There were four girls and two boys. One of the boys was chocolate like Hazel, and the other was black with two white front paws. The four girls were all different colors; one was solid black, another chocolate with a white spot on her chest, a third solid chocolate, and the fourth, the runt of the litter, was yellow with four white paws and a white-tipped tail. Moira was in love with them all, and Hazel seemed to be also.
How could anyone threaten to kill such innocent beings? she wondered. Her heart ached for the poor child forced to abandon this beautiful dog. She hoped that the kid would find her one day so she could assure them that Hazel had been in a loving environment when she gave birth to her puppies, and that all of them were alive and well.
She knew that she was looking forward to a sleepless night—well, probably a few sleepless nights—spent watching the mother dog and her puppies. The vet had suggested that she sleep near them for the first couple of nights and wake up every two hours to be sure Hazel hadn’t inadvertently smothered one of her puppies, and that the little ones hadn’t wandered to the cold side of the pool. She was hoping that Hazel would be careful with the puppies, and knew that she would never forgive herself if she didn’t check and something bad happened.
It was going to be hard to find homes for all of the puppies and the mother, but Moira was determined not to keep any of them. There was no way that she would have the time to raise a puppy—the next eight weeks were going to be hard enough. She supposed that she would keep Hazel if it came down to that or sending her to the pound, but she was hoping to find a good home for her. A single woman who lived alone and worked full time really couldn’t give enough attention to three dogs, and it wouldn’t be fair to take Keeva and Maverick’s time away for Hazel. A thought struck her suddenly. Months ago, when she and Maverick had lived in that tiny apartment after her house burned down, she had rushed him in to the emergency vet’s office late at night because he had been poisoned. While she was waiting for him to stabilize, she had met another woman who was there with her own dog. The woman had told her that she ran a rescue, and had given Moira her card. What had the woman’s name been, and where on earth had she put her card?
The woman’s name came back to her first. She was nearly certain that it had been Beth. She had seemed like a nice lady who really cared about animals. Maybe she would be able to help find homes for the puppies and Hazel… if only she could find that darned card.
After nearly half an hour of searching, she found it in the upstairs closet in her old purse. She had been right about the name. She wondered if the woman would remember her. Doubtful, but hopefully she would still be willing to help. The deli owner glanced at the clock and realized that it was far too late to call her now. It would have to wait for the morning, before she went in to work.
Shoot, I’ll have to call Candice, too, she thought. She couldn’t very well leave the puppies hom
e alone all day. Hopefully her daughter would be able to come over at least for a few hours before she had to go open the candy shop. I almost wish Logan weren’t working for Candice, though I’m glad that he’s enjoying his job. It was nice to have someone able to come over and watch the dogs any time I needed it. She yawned, cutting her own thoughts off with the sudden realization of just how tired she was.
“Time to go to bed,” she muttered to herself. “I need to get what sleep I can. It’s going to be a long night.”
CHAPTER NINE
Moira smiled over at David, glad that they were able to go on their date at last. It had been a crazy few days, but Hazel and her puppies seemed to be settled in. After watching the mother dog with her pups for the last couple of days, Moira was finally convinced that Hazel wouldn’t accidentally roll over and squish the poor things, but she was still glad that Candice had agreed to come over and watch them. Hazel was astoundingly gentle with the little bundles of fur, but she was so much larger that it would only take a second for something to happen.
The Redwood Grill was unusually busy that night. It made the deli owner’s heart glad to see her friend’s business doing so well. Denise had a lot on her plate between running the restaurant and taking care of Logan, her teenage nephew. Earlier in the summer, his mother—Denise’s sister—had passed away, and with his father deployed with the military, the kid had had nowhere else to go. Moira thought that the chance to take care of someone else had been good for the fiercely independent woman, and the chance to grieve together was probably beneficial to them both.
They waited until after the waitress had taken their drink order to begin their conversation. Moira could tell that the private investigator had something that he wanted to tell her, but he began by asking her how she was doing.
“How are the puppies?” he asked once she had assured him that she was fine—tired, but fine.
“They’re doing wonderfully,” she told him. “I swear; they’ve doubled in size since you saw them.”
Spicy Lasagna Murder: Book 13 in The Darling Deli Series Page 4