by Linda Reilly
Lucas dropped his peeler and covered his ears. A half-peeled potato rolled to the floor and landed next to Martha’s black shoe. “Okay,” he said. “Too much information. La la la la la. I can’t hear you!”
Talia laughed at his antics. “Lucas is right, Martha. Some things are best left to the imagination. But you do seem to have a fascinating past.”
Martha’s fleeting smile exchanged places with a thoughtful frown. “Yeah. Fascinating,” she said softly. She picked up the potato and flipped it into the sink.
Talia tossed the slaw with two large forks. Her mind couldn’t stop hopping back to her interview with Detective Prescott. The whole thing still irked her. “Raspberry sauce,” she muttered to herself. “How circumstantial can you get?”
“You know you’re talking to yourself, right?” Martha said.
Talia shook her head. “Sorry. I was thinking about something that detective said to me.”
Martha shot her a look. “Well, what was it?”
Talia sighed. “She said forensics found a spot of raspberry sauce on the scarf Ria was strangled with. Like that proves anything, right? How does that point to me as the killer? Anyone could have spilled it!”
Martha turned away. “Huh,” was all she said.
“The whole thing was ridiculous,” Talia said. She covered the bowl with plastic wrap and then squeezed past Martha to get to the commercial fridge.
“I’m getting a little tired of doing the bump with you,” Martha griped. “This kitchen is just too small for three people and all these appliances.”
Talia tucked the slaw in the fridge and pushed the door shut, a tad more forcefully than she’d intended. “Martha, I realize we’re a bit cramped in here, but there’s nothing we can do.” She pasted on a cheery smile. “Let’s just make the best of it, okay?”
Martha mumbled something Talia couldn’t make out. Ignoring her, she went over to the brown shopping bag someone had left near the restroom the day before. So far, no one had called about it. For safekeeping, Talia had stored it under the table in the kitchen.
Talia pulled out the bag and peeked inside. Several mounds of white tissue rested atop one another. With all that tissue, she thought, the contents had to be fragile. She carefully removed one of the mounds from the bag. With a gentle touch, she peeled aside the sheets of tissue. When she saw what nested within, she gasped. A tiny angel crafted from layers of embossed foil lay inside the tissue. The angel’s dress was gold, and her wings a lustrous blue. Her halo was crafted from shreds of gold tinsel, and her delicate face had been formed from minuscule scraps of cloth.
Martha peered over Talia’s shoulder and gave a low whistle. “That looks pretty old,” she said. “In that condition, I bet it’s worth a few bills.”
“It’s absolutely gorgeous,” Talia breathed. “I wonder who—” She stopped herself before she said any more. She had a sinking feeling she knew where they came from. She rewrapped the angel in the layers of tissue and gently returned it to the bag.
“Aren’t you going to look at the others?” Martha nudged her arm.
“No. These are very special. I don’t want to handle them. Someone must be missing them.”
She didn’t want to leave them under the kitchen table. Lucas was a sweetheart, but he was also a wee bit clumsy, to put it mildly. One crunch from his large sneaker and the ornaments would truly be history.
Talia removed the bag to the farthest corner of the kitchen. She’d have to decide what to do with the ornaments. For now she planned to bring them home and store them in a safe place.
The lunch hour grew extremely busy, which kept kitchen chatter to a minimum. Only one more potato bit the tiles—a new record low for Lucas. A little after one, he took a fast lunch break and fired up his iPad.
“Hey, Ms. Marby, look at this. We got a whole bunch of new Likes on our Facebook page. We’re up to thirty-four. Listen to this. ‘If you want to taste the best food in the Berkshires, don’t miss out on the old fish and chips place in the Wrensdale Arcade. It’s not just fish anymore. Their deep-fried meatballs and mini-dogs are awesome, and be sure to order a side of their deep-fried pickles.’ “
Talia went over and peeked at his iPad. “Lucas, that’s terrific. Do you know who posted it?”
“Yup. One of the guys at the Wrensdale fire station. But he posted it on his personal page, not on ours. The good thing is, a bunch of his friends already shared it.” He held up his right hand and Talia high-fived him.
“Wait a minute,” Talia said. “He called it the old fish and chips place. He didn’t mention the restaurant’s name.”
“Don’t worry, Ms. Marby. People will figure it out.”
“But—”
“First off,” Martha interjected, “you gotta get that new sign up. Fry Me a Sliver is not the easiest name to remember. Plus, it’s clunky. It doesn’t flow off the tongue.”
Talia dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. Was the name clunky? She’d been so thrilled the day it came to her. She’d been celebrating her takeover of Lambert’s with Bea and Howie, her folks, and Ryan and his dad. When she asked if someone wanted the last slab of deep-fried apple-cinnamon bread, Ryan had come back with, “Sure, fry me a sliver.”
She loved the name.
“Ms. Marby,” Lucas said in a soft voice. “I gotta agree with Martha. The name Fry Me a Sliver is kind of a … you know, a tongue twister.”
In her head, Talia tried repeating it three times, fast. She sighed. It wasn’t the smoothest arrangement of words.
“But I’ve already ordered the sign,” she said with a groan. “And it wasn’t exactly cheap.”
“Why don’t you just call it Fry Me?” Martha suggested. “If they haven’t inscribed the name yet, it might be doable.”
Talia bit one side of her lip. “I need to give it some more thought.”
“You don’t have time for thought,” Martha pointed out. “You only have time for action.”
As annoying as Martha was, she was right. Talia was beginning to wonder if she’d jumped into the whole restaurateur thing a bit too soon. Maybe she hadn’t been ready. Maybe she’d needed more time to plan.
Maybe the whole enterprise was going to implode like a collapsed star.
10
Talia made it to the restaurant earlier than usual Thursday morning. She’d decided to clean the tables and chairs so that Martha wouldn’t be stuck with the job. It was one of the things she hadn’t really given much thought to—asking Martha to perform the same icky task as one of her regular duties. From this point on, Talia would share the work, both the fun stuff and the dreary chores.
Not that the tables and chairs were all that grimy. Keeping up with cleaning them every day helped, but for the most part, patrons weren’t all that sloppy. Wiping down the captain’s chairs in the dining room was probably the most labor-intensive job. All spindles and carved wood, they sucked up most of the cleaning time.
Talia was surprised to hear a tiny knock at the door just after nine o’clock. With Ria’s murderer still running loose, she was hesitant to unlock it. The delivery people always used the rear door, so it couldn’t be one of them. She dried her damp hands on a paper towel and trotted over to the door. “Who’s there?” she called out.
A tiny voice responded, but Talia couldn’t hear the name. Moving to the left, she peeked through one of the diamond-shaped window panes that looked out onto the plaza.
It was Kelsey Dakoulas.
“Hey there,” Talia greeted her, opening the door.
“Hey yourself,” Kelsey said. She wore a blue mohair sweater with sleeves that went over her thumbs, but her hands were bare. On her shoulder was a beige tote that looked like vintage macramé. She gave Talia a weak smile, but her puffy eyes belied any good cheer she might have felt. “Do you, um, have a few minutes to talk?”
“Of course. Come on in. I’ll get us some coffee, okay?”
Kelsey rubbed the palms of her bare hands together. “I’d love that. It�
��s freezing out there.”
Talia pulled out one of the chairs she’d just scrubbed and asked Kelsey to make herself comfortable. Kelsey draped her tote over an empty chair, while Talia delivered a small tray to the table. She set a steaming mug of coffee in front of Kelsey.
Kelsey added three sugars to her coffee and stirred it with her spoon. Her large brown eyes brimmed with tears.
Talia sat down across from her. “Kelsey, what’s wrong?” she said softly.
Kelsey grabbed a napkin from the tray and blotted her eyes. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a couple days now, but with everything that’s been happening …” She broke off with a choked sob.
“Take your time,” Talia said.
Kelsey sniffled loudly and swiped a strand of long brunette hair away from her face. “The police interviewed me twice,” she said. “My mom is so upset. All this worry and anxiety isn’t good for her condition.”
Talia’s heart wrenched. “I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do …” It came out like an empty sentiment, but she really did want to help.
Kelsey reached into the macramé tote and dug out an envelope. The blue card peeking out from inside had a familiar look. “I know you told the police that I went back to the gym that day after I’d already left.”
Talia winced. “I did,” she admitted. “But I wasn’t trying to throw you to the wolves. I was only relating what I saw.” She clasped the handle of her mug. “For what it’s worth, I don’t believe you had anything to do with Ria’s death.”
Kelsey smiled, but her brown eyes welled up again. “Thank you, I guess.” She pulled the blue card from the envelope. “This is why I went back that afternoon. By the time they announced the raffle winners, I had already left. But then Mr. Nash texted me to tell me I’d won a prize, so I went back for it.”
Talia’s attention was piqued. “Andy Nash texted you? Do you remember what time?”
Kelsey shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometime before three, I think. Anyway, I was in Queenie’s Variety picking up a few groceries for Mom when I got the text. I paid for my stuff and then went back to the gym to collect my prize.” She smiled, somewhat ruefully. “Turns out I won the free fish and chips dinner for two.”
“Hey, that’s great.” Talia grinned.
“Yeah. Problem is, I’m a vegetarian. I don’t eat meat or fish. No offense, but I wouldn’t even have gone back for the prize if I’d known what it was.”
“No offense taken. Even some meat lovers don’t eat fish.” Talia gave her what she hoped was a disarming smile. “Mr. Nash didn’t tell you what your prize was when he texted you?”
Kelsey shook her head. “No. Just that I’d won something and I could pick it up at the community center anytime before five. He told me to stop by his office. I managed to find a parking space in front of the building, so I didn’t even go into the parking lot. When I got to Mr. Nash’s office, though, his door was closed. The envelope was taped to his office door with my name on it.”
“So you never saw Mr. Nash?”
“No, but I heard him talking and assumed he was on the phone. I just snagged the envelope off the door and left.”
A piece of the puzzle was still missing. “Kelsey, run me through this, okay? You grabbed the envelope, but you didn’t leave right away, did you? I saw you leaving the gym through the front entrance.”
Kelsey flushed. “I was desperate to use the bathroom. I didn’t think I could wait till I got home.” She slid the envelope toward Talia. “Anyway, I can’t really use this. Maybe you can give it to someone else?”
“You keep it, Kelsey,” Talia insisted. “It doesn’t expire, and you can always give it to someone as a gift.”
Kelsey’s brown eyes widened. “Gosh, you’re right. I never even thought of that. My boyfriend loves fish and chips, and so does his dad.” She grinned. “Thank you.”
Talia’s mind went to all the culinary tasks awaiting her in the kitchen. Lucas would take care of the potatoes, but she still had the slaw to think about, and a fresh batch of meatballs to prepare.
But this was more important. Kelsey was at the gym only moments before Talia found Ria’s body. And while she was sure the police had already subjected Kelsey to a grueling “interview,” it was always possible Kelsey saw something crucial without realizing its significance.
Talia fetched the carafe from the kitchen and refilled each of their mugs. “I wish I could offer you a breakfast treat,” she told Kelsey, “but I don’t really have anything that would fit the bill.”
“That’s okay. I had a glazed doughnut from Queenie’s. It’s my once-a-day guilty pleasure.”
Talia returned the carafe to the kitchen and then sat down with Kelsey. “Kelsey,” she said, “I know you didn’t hurt Ria. But I did overhear you arguing with her that morning. Something about a cat?”
Kelsey reddened, and her face went taut. “I thought Ria was my friend,” she said, her tone laced with anger. She reached for another sugar packet and emptied it into her mug. “Turned out she was nothing but a traitor.” Kelsey spat the last word. “When I found out what she did, I knew then she’d never cared about anyone but herself. She was just like her mother.” She sniffled loudly, and then dropped her face into her hands. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not right to talk about her that way, especially after what someone, you know, did to her.”
Talia waited, and then said, “It’s okay to be angry at someone who hurt you, Kelsey. It wasn’t your fault that she died.” She reached over and squeezed Kelsey’s shoulder. “I went through something similar with an ex-boyfriend. I know how it feels.”
Kelsey dropped her hands and looked at Talia. “Was your boyfriend mean to you?”
Talia thought back to the four-plus years she’d spent with Chet. At one time she’d thought they were almost engaged. She shook her head at her own naïveté. “No, he wasn’t mean. He could actually be very sweet at times. But he was rigid and controlling, and wanted to make all the decisions, even down to how we decorated our bathroom. He strung me along for years, until I finally left.” Talia gave a tepid laugh. “Later I found out he’d been seeing someone else. I’m glad I left him when I did.”
“That’s awful,” Kelsey murmured.
“Tell me about the cat,” Talia urged.
“Okay, here goes.” She pulled in a breath. “So I’m a part-time volunteer at the animal shelter, right? Mostly I help with adoption counseling on Saturday afternoons.”
Talia smiled. “That must be so rewarding.”
“It is.” She sighed heavily. “For a long time I’ve been hoping someone might surrender a Siamese cat to the shelter. My mom adores Siamese, and last year we lost our sweet Angelica to kidney failure. The cat was super old—eighteen—but she meant everything to us.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Talia said. “I recently adopted a calico. I’m already so attached to her! I know I’d be devastated if I lost her.”
Kelsey blotted the corners of her eyes with her fingers. “Two Saturdays ago I was at the shelter. I found out someone had brought in a four-year-old Siamese female they couldn’t keep anymore. Oh my God, I was so excited. I’d have taken a male, but I wanted a female. It was going to stretch my budget to buy all new supplies for her, but I had a paycheck from Once or Twice I still hadn’t cashed. Plus, I had some birthday money saved, which would cover the adoption cost.”
“Sounds like a great surprise for your mom,” Talia said.
“Yeah, it would’ve been, if I hadn’t opened my big dopey mouth. I told Ria all about my plan to surprise Mom with the Siamese.” Kelsey twisted her lips in disgust. “Next thing I know, Ria goes to the shelter behind my back and puts an application in for the cat. Two days later—voila! The cat is living with Ria and her mom.”
“Oh, Kelsey, that really was low. I’m sorry she did that to you.”
“She did it purposely,” Kelsey said bleakly. “I was mad at her about something else she did to me. When I told her I deserved an ap
ology, she laughed in my face. She laughed! And then she stole my cat. She was a very spiteful woman.”
Talia was beginning to wonder if she’d leaped to a wrong conclusion. Could Kelsey’s simmering anger toward Ria have led her to commit murder? Was Kelsey even strong enough to strangle her with a knitted scarf?
She remembered what Sergeant O’Donnell had said to her. Did you know, Ms. Marby, that it only takes about three pounds of pressure to strangle someone?
Even so, Talia couldn’t picture Kelsey doing that to Ria.
Although … what had that gossipy Vivian said? That Kelsey had been arrested in another state for attacking someone with a chair? Talia wondered if there was any truth to the story. As much as she liked Kelsey, she needed to poke around in her head a little more.
“Kelsey,” she said, “I’m still confused about something. If you and Ria weren’t getting along, why did you agree to work for her?”
Kelsey groaned. “Because I needed the money, that’s why. I wanted to put it toward my future tuition, and Ria was paying me pretty decently. If I don’t get better at saving, I’ll never be able to get my vet tech degree!”
“What about a student loan?” Talia suggested.
“I started to apply for one, but then Mom got sick and I didn’t follow up on the paperwork. Which, by the way, is voluminous.” She rolled her eyes. “Plus, I’d rather save as much as I can first.”
“I get that,” Talia said. She’d had a small student loan herself, and did a happy dance the day she sent off the final payment.
Kelsey looked at her watch and sighed. “Look, I know I’m keeping you from stuff,” she said. “Plus, Mom has a doctor appointment at noon, so I’d better scoot home. Helping her get ready is kind of a chore.”
Talia’s heart went out to her. For such a young woman, Kelsey had a lot of responsibilities. Having a sick mom to care for couldn’t be easy. And she’d been juggling two jobs, along with doing volunteer work.
“Are you going to look for another job?” Talia asked her.
Kelsey shrugged. “Maybe after the holidays. For now I’m still waitressing at the Wiltshire Inn. It’s a really nice place, and the tips are good.” She stood and snatched up her macramé tote.