Sweet Chili Murder

by Patti Benning

  Chapter Five

  Ellie woke up early the next morning, her good mood from the day before gone. She wasn’t looking forward to talking to the director, but she had already committed to it.

  She got out of bed, stretched, and then tugged open her curtains. Expecting to see the sun greeting her, she was disappointed to find a grey, foggy morning instead. Trying not to see it as an omen of what was to come from her meeting with the director, she began getting ready for the day, grabbing a cold slice of leftover pizza to eat before finishing her makeup and her hair. The Stilton cheese had been a good choice, she reflected. It paired well with the mango.

  Half an hour later, she was nearly ready to go. The only thing holding her back was the fact that she couldn’t find her favorite lipstick, which she always kept in her purse. She had gone so far as to dump the contents of the purse out on her bed and sort through everything, but had no luck. With a sigh, she grabbed her backup lipstick from her toiletry bag. This was just not her day.

  The weather was still dreary when she and her grandmother left the house. They chatted with each other on and off during the drive, but whether it was thanks to the weather or the coming conversation, neither of them were in very cheerful a mood. Ellie was dreading speaking with the director more and more, mostly because she hated having to admit that she had been wrong. And she knew she had been. She still stood by what she had said, and she would make that clear, but she had handled it horribly and she knew it.

  By the time they got to the complex where the film studio was, it had started to rain. The gate was already open, which Ellie was grateful for. She didn’t notice the flashing red and blue lights until they were already in the parking lot. When she did, and saw the police vehicles parked in front of the studio, she felt her stomach lurch.

  “What’s going on?” her grandmother asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  She considered just turning around and driving away, but her curiosity got the better of her. She parked a few spaces down and she and her grandmother joined the small crowd that had gathered to watch the proceedings. The people were gathered as close to the scene as the police would let them get. She heard one off the officers bark at someone to keep back, and made sure she and her grandmother didn’t press too close.

  There were three police vehicles and an ambulance. They had arrived just as the paramedics began to wheel a shrouded form to the ambulance’s bay doors. Ellie bit her lip, knowing well what the covered shape meant. Someone had died.

  “It’s that new director that moved in. Mike Jacobson, I think,” a man next to her said. He shifted so she and Nonna were partially under his umbrella. “My employee is the one who found the body. He saw the car parked here when he arrived this morning, but didn’t think anything of it. When he came out for his smoke break and saw that someone was still sitting in the driver’s seat, he got worried and came over to see if the man was all right. What he found…” He shook his head. “Well, it was obvious that the man was dead. Stabbed, if I had to guess from what he described.”

  “Mr. Jacobson?” Ellie asked, her eyes widening. The man nodded.

  “That sounds about right. I only met the guy once, when he first leased the building. It’s a shame that something like this happened him. This isn’t the best area, but it’s usually pretty safe. People are going to be scared now. I already sent my employee home, poor boy. The crowd had already gathered, though. I tried to keep people back, but they wouldn’t listen.”

  “Are there security cameras?” she asked. It hadn’t occurred to her to look for them the other day.

  “None that work.” The man eyed her. “You a cop or something?”

  “My husband’s a sheriff.”

  “Ah. That explains it. You’ve got that matter of fact way of dealing with stuff like this that the cops I know have. Did you know him? The director?”

  “I met him yesterday. We were clients of his.”

  “I see. I’m guessing the studio’s going to be closed for a while, if they ever reopen. I don’t think they were doing very well.”

  Ellie nodded. She turned her attention back to the crime scene. The police were going through the car now, and she couldn’t help but to press a bit closer to see some of what they were bringing out in evidence bags. One of the bags held a single tube of lipstick that looked oddly familiar. She felt the breath whoosh out of her and turned back to her grandmother.

  “This is bad,” she began. Before she could say anything else, she noticed one of the police officers approaching. Everyone who was gathered at the crime scene tape turned their attention to him. Ellie tensed, even though she knew that even if the lipstick was hers, there was no way they would have been able to make that connection so quickly.

  “If any of you knew the victim personally, or believe you may have witnessed something pertaining to his death, please give me your names and contact information before leaving. Everyone else, please move on and let the police do their work.”

  A few people grumbled, but the crowd began to disperse as other officers approached them to make the same request. Ellie hesitated, then joined the handful of people who were approaching the officer to give him their information.

  “My name is Eleanora Ward,” she said when it was her turn. “My grandmother and I are clients of the studio and we met Mr. Jacobson yesterday.” She gave him her phone number.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Ward. If we believe you may be of help to the case, we’ll be in contact.”

  By then, almost all of the onlookers had left. She and her grandmother retreated to the car. Ellie started the engine, then stared at the dashboard for a long moment, her mind racing. How had this happened? Was that really her lipstick in the evidence bag? If so, then how on earth had it gotten there?

  “Ellie?”

  “Sorry, Nonna. Just thinking.” She put the car into gear and backed out of the parking space. “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter Six

  The drive home was just as silent as the one the day before had been, but for different reasons. Ellie was mentally wrestling with herself about the lipstick. She wasn’t even sure it was hers, but it certainly looked like it. Why would it have been in the director’s car? Had someone stolen it out of her purse? She tried to remember the day before. She didn’t think she had used it at all after they had left the studio, but she couldn’t be certain. It was very possible she had just misplaced it somewhere after they got back to the condo, and the lipstick in his car had been his wife’s or girlfriend’s.

  Still, it nagged her the entire drive home. The second they got back, she hurried to her room and began searching through the drawers, her suitcase, and even the bed linens, frantically looking for the missing lipstick. Once she was certain it couldn’t possibly be anywhere in the bedroom, she moved her search to the bathroom, then to the rest of the condo. Her grandmother watched silently for a while, but when Ellie came in from looking in the car and began to tear apart the kitchen, she said, “Ellie, what on earth are you looking for?”

  The pizzeria owner sighed and collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table. “I’m missing my favorite lipstick.” At her grandmother’s raised eyebrows, she explained further. “I know, it wouldn’t usually be this important, but I saw a lipstick that looks exactly like mine in one of the evidence bags the police were using to remove items from Mr. Jacobson’s car. The last time I remember having the lipstick was right before we got to the studio yesterday. It was in my purse, and I left my purse unattended in the studio while we were doing the shoot for the ad. I can’t figure out why someone would steal it — I had cash in my wallet that wasn’t touched — but the more I look for the lipstick and can’t find it, the more I’m certain that it somehow ended up in the director’s car.”

  Her grandmother blew out a slow breath. “That’s not good. I’ll help you look.”

  They spent another half an hour searching with no luck. Ellie was certain she had torn apart every inch of the condo, even looking in r
ooms where she was almost certain it couldn’t be, like her grandmother’s bedroom, and they had double checked the car as well. Unless she had dropped it somewhere, like at the grocery store, then the lipstick in the evidence bag had to be hers.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted morosely as they sat down in the living room together. Amie got up from her cushion and pressed her small body against Ellie’s arm, as if to give comfort.

  “I think you should tell the police about it,” Nonna said. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, and you don’t want them waste their time investigating a dead end.”

  Ellie bit her lip. “It’s just… I had that argument with him yesterday. No one on the police force here knows me, not like they do back home. What if they think I did it? And I could be wrong about the lipstick. It’s possible I dropped it in the car, and it fell out when I stopped in a parking lot. I did go to the store yesterday. I may have refreshed my lipstick before going in without thinking, and I could have dropped it then.”

  “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to wait and see what happens. I don’t think you should worry, dear. You and I both know you’re innocent.”

  “I know. It’s just another thing to be worried about, I suppose.” She closed her eyes, feeling very tired. “I’m going to go call Russell, and I might take a short nap afterward. Then we can plan lunch, if you’d like.”

  “That works out well for me. I’ve got a novel I’ve been working on. A dreary day like this is perfect for reading.”

  In her bedroom, Ellie pulled her phone out and dialed her husband’s number, sliding her shoes off with her toes and collapsing across the bed. She felt terrible for Mr. Jacobson. Even though he hadn’t seemed like a very kind person, he hadn’t deserved this. She felt a surge of guilt for being so worried about the missing lipstick when a man was dead. I should call Linda, she thought. I’m sure she’s heard about what happened by now, but if she hasn’t, I should be the one to tell her.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Russell,” she said, sitting up slightly and moving so a pillow was under her neck, giving her support. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

  She told him what had happened that morning, including her worries about the missing lipstick. She could imagine him shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair as he listened, and the thought brought a small smile to her face. Even though she had only been gone for a couple of days, she missed him.

  “I’m sorry I’m not there,” he said when she was done. “What are your plans now?”

  “I’m going to stay the rest of the week, then just come home. We’ll probably be able to get the deposit back from the studio, but I’m not going to bother them about it for a while. It’s a small business, and they all know each other. The assistant director was Mr. Jacobson’s brother, and his cousin also worked for him. I’m sure they’re going to be in mourning, and it doesn’t feel right to bug them about money right away.”

  “I agree. I’m sure they’ll appreciate that down the line. I meant what your plan was about the lipstick, though. Are you going to contact the police?”

  “Do you think I should?”

  He hesitated. “Do you have any sort of alibi for yesterday evening? Are you certain that the lipstick you saw in the evidence bag was yours?”

  “Well, I was with Nonna most of the evening, other than when I went grocery shopping. She went to bed earlier than I did, though. I spent the rest of the evening watching a movie on my laptop and then reading for a bit. And no, I’m not sure it was my lipstick. The case certainly looked the same, but it’s not an expensive brand or anything. You can buy it at any chain drugstore.”

  “Your grandmother may not be a good enough alibi if you end up being looked at as a possible suspect, and the time you spent away from the condo without her and the time you spent awake after she went the bed will be considered unaccounted for.” He made a small hum that she knew meant he was thinking. “I’d suggest just keeping your head down. Continue looking for the lipstick. Maybe check in the parking lot of the grocery store, since you mentioned a possibility that it may have fallen out there. If you find it, you’ll know not to worry. If the police speak to you about the case, I’d be open with them about it, but I don’t think there’s a need to go down to the station and volunteer the information yourself, not unless you think it might be pertinent to finding the killer. From what you said, there isn’t any reason to believe the lipstick is yours other than the fact that you happen to be missing one that looks similar to it.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “All right. Thanks for the advice.”

  “I really do think that the lipstick isn’t yours. But Ellie, don’t hesitate to go to them if you really feel like you should. Everything will be okay. Just because you had a disagreement with the man doesn’t mean they’re going to look at you as the only suspect. From what you said, he wasn’t a very pleasant man in general and there was likely some resentment between him and his business partners. They’re going to look there before they look anywhere else.”

  “Okay. You’ve made me feel a lot better about all of this.”

  They said their I love yous and their goodbyes, and Ellie ended the call. She felt a lot more positive, but there was still a niggling reminder of the worry she had felt before. She glanced outside, looking at the dreary weather, then pulled the curtains shut and began changing into something more comfortable. That nap she had mentioned earlier sounded pretty good right about now.

  Chapter Seven

  The next day, the sky was still overcast, and though it wasn’t raining, the humidity was murder. She decided to spend the day at the Florida pizzeria. It would be good to catch up with her employees, and she wanted to see how Linda was doing. The man she was seeing was Mr. Jacobson’s cousin, and she was bound to have her own opinions on who might be behind his death.

  The interior of the Florida pizzeria was almost identical to the Papa Pacelli’s in Maine, and she felt a rush of comfort as she stepped inside. It was busier than she was used to at the pizzeria back home, but Miami was a much busier and much larger city than Kittiport, so she wasn’t surprised. She nodded at the two employees, one of whom was working the register and the other who was busy waiting tables, then made her way into the kitchen where she found Linda chopping onions.

  “Hey, Ellie,” the other woman said with a casual wave of the knife. “Give me a second, I’ve got to finish this before my eyes start tearing, then I’ll have Jessica step in and we can chat.”

  Ellie nodded, and spent the next few minutes looking around the kitchen. She wasn’t really expecting to find anything out of place — Linda had proven herself to be a great manager — but she felt like she should probably take a cursory look around. She was glad to see that everything looked to be up to the standards she had decided on when she wrote the policy for the second pizzeria. Linda’s weekly updates had let her know that they were doing well, but it felt good to see it with her own eyes.

  Pretty soon, Linda washed her hands and joined Ellie, who was looking at the month’s schedule. The pizzeria owner shook her head.

  “You’ve got almost twice the number of employees I do. I always forget that.”

  “A lot of them are delivery drivers,” Linda explained. “We deliver pretty far, and we often have two or three drivers out at once.”

  Ellie nodded. The original pizzeria delivered to all of Kittiport and some of Benton Harbor, but that still only amounted to fewer than ten thousand people. There were tens of thousands more people in the Florida pizzeria’s delivery range.

  “So everything’s going pretty well here, then?”

  “It’s great,” her friend said with a grin. “Ellie… I don’t know if I’ve said this enough. Thank you. So much. Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this.”

  “I know it’s not quite the same as having your own restaurant, but I hope it helps. You’ve been great, Linda. I couldn’t have done this witho
ut you, either.”

  “In a way it’s better than having my own restaurant,” the other woman said. “It’s less stressful, for one. I’m okay at the day to day stuff, and I’m good at the cooking, but I’ve always been terrible at making big decisions. This way my income is more stable, and I can just relax and enjoy my job.”

  “I’m glad.” Ellie smiled warmly at her friend. She owed Linda a lot, and was glad that the other woman seemed happy. “So, how’s Johnathan doing with everything that happened?”

  “He’s crushed,” Linda said, her smile fading to a frown. “He and Mike and Trevor have always been really close. He stayed with them every summer, and doesn’t have any siblings, so they’re pretty much his brothers. I guess Mike has gone through a lot of stuff the past few years, which was why he seemed so cranky and rude. His wife died, then he lost his contract with the big studio he used to work for because he couldn’t keep up with the high stress industry while grieving for his wife, then his son ran off to Europe and stopped speaking to him —” She broke off, seeming to realize that she had been babbling. “Sorry, Johnathan came over last night and told me all about him. He’s so sweet, Ellie. He wants to be a cook; did I tell you? I feel terrible for him. And his cousin, of course. No one deserved to be murdered. No one.”