Murder in the Pearl District (Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Series Book 5)

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Murder in the Pearl District (Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Series Book 5) Page 4

by Dianne Harman


  “All right. I can live with that, but I want you to call me every night, and if for any reason, you start to feel threatened or unsafe, promise me you’ll leave and come home. By the way, did you take your gun with you?”

  “I promise,” she fibbed, looking up towards heaven and hoping to make a deal with whatever powers reigned there if and when she ever got there. “And yes, I do have the gun with me, so I’ll be fine.”

  “Good, I’m glad to hear that. That makes me feel a little better. Kelly, I love you. Be safe.” She ended the call and told Rebel to come with her. It was time to begin working at Mangia! Mangia!

  *****

  Kelly opened the door of Mangia! Mangia! and was immediately greeted by Carlotta, the hostess she’d met when she and Sophie had eaten there in what seemed a lifetime ago, but in reality, was only the day before yesterday.

  “Welcome Mrs. Reynolds. I understand you’re the new chef of Mangia! Mangia! Congratulations, and please let me know if there’s anything I can do to make this new job easier for you.”

  “Thank you, Carlotta. First of all, I’d like to make this change as seamless as possible. I’m sure people will be asking you what’s going to happen to the restaurant. Simply tell them a visiting chef will be filling in until a new permanent chef is selected, but that nothing will be changed in the interim. That should make them feel better. Secondly, if there’s anything you can tell me that you think I should know, please don’t hesitate. This is all pretty new to me. Also, do you know if Mrs. DeLuca had any enemies?”

  “Ever since I heard that Mrs. De Luca had been murdered, I’ve been trying to think why someone would do it. Although almost everyone loved her, there are a few people I’d want to talk to if I were in charge of solving her murder.”

  “With your work station right here next to the front door, you’ve probably had a better opportunity than anyone to observe what’s going on here at the restaurant.”

  “Mrs. Reynolds, what I’m going to tell you is just stuff I’ve heard. I don’t have any real facts to back it up, and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t say that anything I’m about to tell you came from me.”

  “I can certainly promise you that. Rest assured I won’t tell anyone I learned anything from you.”

  Carlotta looked around to see if anyone could overhear what she was about to say. Satisfied, she began, “A couple of people came to my mind. That snooty food critic for the Portland Gazette, Bill Hossam, has eaten here several times in the last month. A friend of mine who knows him told me that Hossam didn’t think our food was all that good. He’s the only food critic in Portland who hasn’t written a review of our restaurant.”

  “Did Mrs. DeLuca know Mr. Hossam had visited the restaurant?”

  Carlotta nervously looked down at her hands and then abashedly looked up at Kelly. “I told her. I thought she should know.”

  “I think that was the right thing to do. When did you tell her?”

  “It was the afternoon of the night you came to dinner. I remember, because she was quite upset. She told me he better not publish a bad review, because it could really hurt her business.”

  “Do you know if she did anything about it?”

  “I’m pretty sure she called him. I needed to tell her to get more salt for the salt shakers on the tables, and I went back to her office. The door to her office was closed, but I could hear her screaming on the telephone, and I realized she was talking to Mr. Hossam. I overheard her tell him that if he wrote a bad review for Mangia! Mangia! she’d personally make sure it was the last review he ever wrote for the Gazette. I don’t know what happened after that.”

  “You know, Carlotta, you look the way my daughter used to look when she wanted to tell me something, but wasn’t exactly sure what I would think about it after she told me. Is there something else I should know?”

  “Mrs. Reynolds, you didn’t hear this from me, but there is a very wealthy woman who lives here in the Pearl District, not far from the restaurant. She brings a lot of people to the restaurant, and a few weeks ago she asked Mrs. DeLuca to cater a dinner party in her home. Mrs. DeLuca didn’t like to do catering, because she felt she needed to be at the restaurant, but Elena Wright insisted, and because she is such a good customer, Mrs. DeLuca agreed to it. Miss Wright wanted scallops served to her guests, and I remember Mrs. DeLuca telling me that she really didn’t like to fix seafood when she catered, because she worried something might be wrong with the shellfish and the dinner guests might become ill.

  “Evidently the dinner party was being held in honor of a friend of Miss Wright’s who lived in the Midwest. This particular person had never eaten scallops and had a severe allergic reaction to them during the dinner party. Fortunately there was a doctor at the dinner party, and he treated her immediately. Miss Wright refused to believe her guest had become ill because she’d insisted on serving scallops without inquiring as to whether or not her special guest or anyone else had any food allergies.”

  “Good grief. That really is dangerous. That poor woman could have gone into anaphylactic shock and died. What happened to her?”

  “Miss Wright’s guest recovered, but she blamed Mrs. DeLuca for serving bad scallops. It didn’t help that all the papers got wind of it and made Miss Wright out to be a bad hostess for not finding out whether or not any of her guests had food allergies. Miss Wright’s claim to fame, besides being the only child of a rich lumber baron, is her entertaining. She has a reputation in Portland as being the ‘hostess with the mostest,’ if you know what I mean. Evidently a number of people have declined her invitations to dinner parties since then, and she blamed Mrs. DeLuca.”

  “Well, that’s interesting. I suppose she might have had a motive for killing Mrs. DeLuca, and Mr. Hossam might have felt she’d threatened him. If I was going to make a list of possible suspects, I think I’d be well advised to include the two of them in the list based on what you’ve told me. Thanks, Carlotta, I really appreciate your confiding in me, and don’t worry. I never heard any of this from you.”

  Kelly took a deep breath and walked through the restaurant dining area to the kitchen which was located towards the rear of the building.

  CHAPTER 9

  It was 11:00, only a few hours after the gruesome discovery of Donatella’s body, and the restaurant was scheduled to open for lunch at 11:30. Kelly walked into the kitchen and stood for a moment, staring in amazement at what looked like orchestrated chaos taking place before her very eyes. People were cooking, chopping, going in and out of the large walk-in refrigerator, taking things out of the ovens, and putting things in the ovens. Over in a corner Sophie was in a deep conversation with a handsome looking young man. Kelly walked over to them.

  Sophie looked up and said, “Kelly, I’d like you to meet Chef Nico Bassi. He was Dede’s sous chef. I told him I want him to act as chef, but for the time being, I want all of the dishes to remain as they were when Dede was chef. He agrees with me. We’re just going over the menu. He’s giving me an overview of how the kitchen works and who is responsible for what. I think we’re very lucky to have such a fine staff. I really believe we can pull this off.”

  A tall muscular blond man with a tattoo of a chef’s knife prominent on his right forearm stood up and held out his hand to Kelly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Mrs. Marchant has told me what a good chef you are and about your restaurant in Cedar Bay. I consider it an honor to have the opportunity to work with you.”

  “Thank you, but please call me Kelly, and call Mrs. Marchant, Sophie. We’ll be working too close together for formalities. The restaurant opens in a half an hour. What can I do to help other than get out of your way?”

  “Kelly, if you could handle anything that happens in the front of the house, I would appreciate it,” Nico said. “Some of the staff is a little nervous about everything that’s happened today. I’d like to be able to stay here in the kitchen with the kitchen staff until they feel comfortable. They’re worried that the restaurant is going t
o close and they won’t have jobs.”

  “I thought Sophie told you that was not going to happen.”

  “Actually when she first walked into the kitchen she told me that, but nevertheless, some of the staff think we’re going to close after today or when the food runs out.”

  “Nico,” Sophie said, “Let me repeat what I told you earlier. I have money to order the food and take care of the employee expenses, so please tell the staff I will take care of any costs that the restaurant incurs until a final decision is made concerning its continued operation. We don’t even know what’s in Dede’s Will or if she made arrangements in it for the continued operation of the restaurant.”

  “Sophie,” Kelly said, “why don’t you stay here with Nico and learn everything you can about what’s taking place here in the kitchen? I’m going to talk to the bartenders and the wait staff and assure them that nothing will change for the foreseeable future.”

  She left the kitchen and walked over to the two bartenders who were standing behind the bar engaged in a deep conversation. She overheard one of them saying, “Well, now that she’s dead, her lover’s ex-wife probably won’t be coming in here anymore. Thank heavens. She’s got that redhead temper and drinks way too much. I’ve had to cut her off several times. Didn’t want to be the one sued for letting her drive when she was drunk.”

  The other one replied, “Yeah, me too. I never understood why Mrs. DeLuca didn’t just refuse to serve her.”

  “You know what a soft touch she was. She felt sorry for Mr. Ramos’ ex-wife because he’d left her for Mrs. DeLuca. Guess it was quite the scandal when he divorced her, but she had a lot of moxie to come in here and make the scenes she did. I’ll give her credit for one thing though, she was careful to never do it at mealtimes, just in the afternoons. I remember one time she got in Mrs. DeLuca’s face and accused her of stealing her husband. That was the only time I saw Mrs. DeLuca completely lose it and really get mad. She told her to leave and never come back. Actually, I think you were off that day. It was only a few days ago.”

  Kelly cleared her throat, and they both turned to her. “Hi, I’m Kelly Reynolds, I just wanted to introduce myself and assure you that the restaurant is going to remain open. A friend of Mrs. DeLuca’s, Sophie Marchant, and I will be running it for the time being. Actually, Sophie was one of Mrs. DeLuca’s closest friends and was in here a lot. You probably know her.”

  “Of course. That makes me feel good. She’s good people,” the taller of the two men said. “How can we help?”

  “I don’t know much about serving alcohol. I own a restaurant, well, actually it’s a coffee shop, in Cedar Bay, but we don’t serve alcohol. Can you give me a quick course in how it works here?”

  For the next fifteen minutes the two bartenders instructed her in what they did to keep the bar up and running. They showed her how they gauged the amount of liquor that went into a mixed drink, reviewed the wine list, how to operate the cash register, where they put used glasses, and anything else that came to their minds about the bar business.

  “You must take in a lot of money here at the bar. Who picks it up, and where does it go?”

  “Mrs. DeLuca picked it up every couple of hours. She did the same with the reception desk, because the servers took their credit card payments or cash to the register there. She has a floor safe in her office, and she put the money in there. Rango Security Company comes every morning to collect the receipts from the day before and then deposits the money in her bank account.”

  “Thanks, based on that procedure, I’ll continue to do the same.”

  She walked into Donatella’s office and pulled back several throw rugs until she found the floor safe. Swell, I’ve found the safe, but I have no idea how to open it. I’ll have to make some other arrangement for the money until I can find out the combination.

  While she was contemplating what to do next, the phone on Donatella’s desk rang. She crossed the small room in several steps and answered it. “This is Kelly Reynolds.”

  “Mrs. Reynolds, it’s Carlotta. I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s a man here at the reception desk who says he’s Mrs. DeLuca’s lawyer, and he needs to talk to you. I told him you and Mrs. Marchant were going to run Mangia! Mangia! for the time being, and he said he’d like to talk to her as well. I’ve called the kitchen, and she’s on her way.”

  “Please send him back here to the office. Thanks, Carlotta.”

  A moment later there was a knock on the door. Kelly opened the door, and a large man dressed in a very expensive-looking grey pinstripe suit walked into the room. His thinning white hair was swept back from his forehead and his sharp blue eyes openly assessed her. He put out his hand, “Hello. I’m George Mitchell, Donatella’s attorney, or rather I was.”

  Sophie walked into the room and greeted the man. She turned to Kelly, “I’ve been to several dinner parties at Donatella’s where George was also a guest. It’s good to see you again, George, although I would prefer if it was under different circumstances.”

  “So would I, Sophie, so would I.” He set the large briefcase he’d been carrying on the desk. “Ladies, would you please be seated? I need to talk to you.” He opened the briefcase and took out what looked like legal papers with a blue backer attached. “Normally when someone is deceased, I would do a reading of their Will with all of the heirs and family members present in my office a day or two after their death, but time is of the essence here because of the restaurant. Francesca is the primary heir of the estate, and as you know, she isn’t capable of understanding what’s contained in the Will.”

  “I’m confused, George, I don’t see how this affects either one of us.”

  “Sophie, it will all be clear in a few moments, you see, Donatella DeLuca willed the Mangia! Mangia! restaurant to you. She made some changes to her Will a month ago, and she told me at the time that you were a superb cook. She said you’d always wanted to cook for people, but you were afraid to, so she wanted you to have the chance.”

  “Mon Dieu, I can’t believe it. Mangia! Mangia! left to me? She believed in me enough that she left her restaurant to me? Non, this is too much. Shouldn’t this go to Francesca?”

  “I’m sure it would have if things had been different, but obviously Francesca is not capable of handling it. Donatella provided for Francesca in other ways. She left her house to her as well as the proceeds from the sale of her cookbooks along with a stock brokerage account containing investments she’d made in the stock market. That account alone is worth over five million dollars. There is easily enough money and assets available to continue indefinitely with the type of care she has been receiving.”

  Kelly looked over at Sophie who appeared to be in a state of shock. “I don’t know what to say. I never even thought of owning a restaurant.”

  “Well, if you choose to sell it at some point, that’s your decision. I need your signature on a number of forms that will authorize you to buy provisions for the restaurant from various food and alcohol purveyors as well as changing the bank account to reflect that you’re authorized to sign checks for the staff, etc.” He took a number of papers out of his briefcase and passed them over to Sophie. “Please sign where the red ‘x’ appears on each page. My secretary has been very busy since Detective Masters called us this morning with the sad news, but I believe all the necessary paperwork is here.

  “I’ll be filing Donatella’s Will with the probate court this afternoon, and at the same time I will ask the court for an emergency order allowing Sophie to continue operating Mangia! Mangia! until ownership of the restaurant is officially transferred at the close of the probate proceedings.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Mitchell,” Kelly said, “by any chance do you know the combination to the floor safe? I found the safe, but I have no idea how to open it,” Kelly said.

  “It’s probably in this packet of documents. Donatella gave me an envelope three days ago and told me I was to give it to Sophie if anything ever happened to her. I thought it was
a rather strange request at the time. Now I wonder if she had a premonition this was going to happen.” He handed the envelope to Sophie.

  “I would love to stay and talk to both of you. Actually I would love to stay and order something off of the fabulous lunch menu, but I have to be in court this afternoon, and the judge I’m appearing before is very unforgiving if lawyers show up late in his courtroom.” He picked up the papers Sophie had signed and said, “If you have any questions, please call me. Here’s my business card, and I wish you luck, Sophie. I’m sure Mangia! Mangia! is in very good hands.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Given the circumstances, Sophie and Kelly’s first attempt at serving lunch and running Mangia! Mangia! was a huge success. As Kelly had predicted, the customers wanted to know what was going to happen. Kelly had instructed Carlotta, the bartenders, and the wait staff as to how they should handle the questions, and fortunately for everyone, it went very smoothly. The customers seemed genuinely relieved that the popular restaurant was going to remain open.

  Just as the crowd was beginning to thin out, Carlotta motioned Kelly over to the reception desk. “What is it Carlotta?”

  “The man sitting at the table by himself two tables back from the windows is the restaurant critic, Bill Hossam. He’s the one I told you about. I thought you’d want to know.”

  “Oh great. Why is he here? Is he on a restaurant death watch? He probably wants to see if we can keep the restaurant open. I’ll let Sophie know and see what she says. I don’t know if it’s proper for me to introduce myself and welcome him or what.” She hurried back to the kitchen.

 

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