Murder Made to Order

by Lena Gregory

  Gia tacked her orders above the grill, washed her hands, pulled on a pair of gloves, and tried to shake off the annoyance trying to creep in. Captain Hayes wasn’t worth ruining her day over, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit her interest had been piqued by the stranger who’d given him pause.

  She sprinkled a handful of diced ham, green peppers, and onions onto the grill to heat, then cracked three eggs into a large bowl, scrambled them, and poured them over the mixture. While the western omelet cooked, she cut a bagel and dropped it into the toaster, then threw a few pieces of sausage and bacon onto the grill. She cut open two rolls, left them open on plates on the counter, cracked four eggs onto the grill, broke the yolks, then flipped the western omelet over and checked the order slips.

  Home fries. She spooned two large helpings onto the plates with the rolls, then flipped the eggs over, added cheese to the omelet, and folded it over.

  The bagel popped up, so she spread butter on both sides, then slid the omelet onto the plate with the bagel, shoved the plate onto the counter in the cutout between the kitchen and dining room, and took a quick peek.

  The man in the back corner still sat nursing his coffee, but Hayes was gone.

  Willow rushed in and tacked a small stack of orders above the grill. “Congratulations.”

  Gia turned. “Huh?”

  “You did it.”

  “Did what?” She put a couple of slices of cheese onto the eggs, then piled them on the rolls with sausage and bacon, added salt and pepper, and put the plates on the counter.

  “Gained acceptance. Once you become a gossip hot spot, you’re in.” Willow gave her a thumbs-up before she grabbed a couple of plates and turned to go.

  Gia laughed as warmth rushed through her. She hadn’t realized how important acceptance had been to her. Especially when she wasn’t even sure she wanted to stay in Boggy Creek. Not for the first time, she wished she could get out from behind the grill and interact, get to know people better, maybe make some friends. It was long past time to hire a cook. “Willow, wait.”

  She turned back. “What’s up?”

  “The older gentleman in the back corner… Do you know who he is?”

  “No, sorry. Why?”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just curious. Thanks.”

  “Yup.” She hurried out the door.

  Gia returned to filling orders. Several people ordered breakfast pies, which were easy enough, since they were premade and kept beneath warmers. All Gia had to do was cut a piece, add some home fries or grits, and make the toast. She dropped two slices of bread into each of the five toasters lining the countertop, plated two slices of meat lover’s pie, two of vegetable pie, and one western. While she waited for the toast to pop up, she ladled pancake batter onto the grill.

  The sound of raised voices disrupted her flow.

  “She’s busy right now.” Willow’s voice came from right outside the kitchen door. Odd. Gia had never heard her raise her voice before, didn’t think she had it in her to be nasty to anyone. Obviously, she’d been wrong. “You can’t go back there, Maybelle.”

  “Oh, really. And who’s going to stop me? You?”

  Gia spread butter over all ten pieces of toast, cut them, then shifted the plates to the cutout and checked the remaining orders. Too many to stop and deal with Maybelle at the moment, that was for sure.

  She flipped the pancakes and scrambled more eggs for omelets, then poured the eggs onto the grill.

  Maybelle shoved through the door, then stormed across the kitchen and stopped only two inches away from Gia.

  Willow shot Gia an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Gia, she—”

  “Thanks, Willow. Don’t worry about it. Everything is fine.”

  “What did you tell them?” Maybelle demanded.

  “Tell whom?” Gia squeezed between Maybelle and the counter and dropped two slices of rye bread into one of the toasters, then plated the pancakes and shifted them to the cutout.

  “Don’t play games with me, you little twit,” she huffed, pointing her finger at Gia. Her cheeks flamed bright red, and a vein throbbed at her temple.

  Gia stopped short, for the first time realizing how angry Maybelle was. As much as she disliked the woman, seeing her that distressed tugged at something in her. She resisted the urge to tell her off and call the police to have her forcibly removed. “I’m sorry, Maybelle. I’m completely swamped right now. I don’t know what you’re so angry with me about, but maybe—”

  “Maybe nothing. You know exactly what you did.”

  Gia nudged past Maybelle to get to the grill before her eggs could burn. The last thing she needed was to burn anything and have to start over. She flipped the omelet over and spooned some of the vegetable mixture onto half of the omelet.

  Maybelle’s hot breath bathed the back of her neck. “I want to know what you told the police.”

  “The police?” Had Maybelle heard she’d been the one to find the body? Gia tried to think as she folded the omelet over the vegetables and slid it onto a plate, then buttered the toast and put the plate up for Willow. She turned and started back toward the grill to begin the next order.

  Maybelle stood between her and the grill, arms folded across her chest.

  “What are you talking about, Maybelle? I don’t have time for this.” Gia started past her.

  Maybelle put a hand against her shoulder, bringing her to an abrupt halt.

  Gia eyed her hand, then lifted her gaze to Maybelle and raised a brow.

  Although she removed her hand, she made no move to get out of the way. “The police showed up at my house asking questions about Hank and the dead woman, accusing him of having an affair with her.”

  “Oh…uh…” Uh-oh. Hunt must have turned in the pictures she and Savannah had found. Surely he wouldn’t have told anyone they’d been the ones to find them.

  “My husband was not fooling around with that woman.”

  “Okay.”

  “Excuse me?” Maybelle frowned.

  “Look, I’m busy right now, and I really don’t understand what any of this has to do with me.”

  “Don’t play innocent with me. I have friends in the department, and I know you were the one to find the body. Now I have cops crawling all over my house because you’re trying to implicate me in her murder.”

  “What! Are you crazy?”

  “You told the police that ridiculous lie about my Hank and that woman.” She pulled herself straighter and puffed out her chest. “As if he’d ever stray from me.”

  Gia’s mind raced. How would Maybelle know Gia had given Hunt the pictures? Savannah wouldn’t have told anyone. And she couldn’t imagine Hunt would have. Leo? What reason would he have to say anything? But who else besides the four of them knew?

  “Maybelle, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about. I never spoke to the police about you at all.”

  “Oh, really?” She pursed her lips.

  “Really.” Gia had half a mind to slap the smug look right off her face. So much for the small bit of sympathy that had begun to surface. She tried to count to ten in her head. She only made it to four. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. And if you don’t leave, I will call the police, and I will have you removed from my café.”

  “This isn’t over, you know. I know you have it in for me. You know what I think?”

  She shouldn’t encourage her. Knowing that couldn’t curb her morbid curiosity. “No. What do you think?”

  “I think you’re jealous, and that’s why you’re pointing the finger at me. You couldn’t keep your own husband, so now you’re hankerin’ after mine.”

  The laugh blurted out an instant before she managed to slap her hand over her mouth to stop it.

  “Go ahead and laugh. We’re shutting your café down. That’s a promise.”

  Ah
jeez. She’d forgotten Maybelle was on the town council.

  “What are you going to do then? How are you going to live?” She took another step closer. “Well, let me tell you something, you hussy, you won’t be gettin’ my husband, no matter what you try to accuse me of.”

  “Gia?” Willow peeked in the doorway. “Why aren’t there any orders up?”

  “They’re coming now.” She sidestepped Maybelle, changed her gloves, and ran her finger over the next order slip in line, trying to bring her focus back to the task at hand. “And do me a favor, Willow. Call the police and have Maybelle removed, please.”

  Willow’s mouth fell open. “Uh…”

  “Don’t bother.” Maybelle waved a hand to dismiss her. “I was just leaving.”

  Gia’s hands shook as she lined bacon onto the grill to heat.

  “But don’t think this is over.”

  She only spared Maybelle a quick glance over her shoulder, but it was enough to send a shiver down her spine. For the first time, Gia gave serious consideration to the theory of Maybelle as Marcia Steers’s killer.

  The cold, calculating look in Maybelle’s eyes was all the confirmation she needed to know the woman was up to something. And whatever it was probably didn’t bode well for Gia.

  Chapter 8

  “So, what’d I miss?” Savannah strode through the kitchen doorway, snatched a piece of bacon off the dwindling pile, and popped it in her mouth.

  “Sounds like you already heard.” Who was she kidding? Savannah probably knew all about Maybelle’s visit before the woman had even walked out the door. “Who told you?”

  Savannah laughed. “Who didn’t?”

  “That’s about what I figured.”

  “So, what happened?”

  Gia glanced at the clock, stripped off her gloves, and removed her apron. She shoved back a few stray strands of hair that had escaped their knot with her wrist, then washed her hands. “You didn’t tell anyone we found those pictures, did you?”

  “Of course not. You think I want to earn Hunt’s wrath?”

  No. She wouldn’t. Especially after they’d gotten off so easy after going—breaking, whatever—into Marcia’s house. “Would Hunt or Leo have told anyone?”

  “I doubt it. Besides, if they had, we’d more than likely be having this conversation with Captain Hayes down at the station.”

  “True.” Hayes would be in his glory, gloating with the two of them at his mercy. “So how did Maybelle know?”

  “About the pictures?”

  “I don’t know. She didn’t actually mention the pictures. She said I accused Hank of having an affair with Marcia. Said I was jealous and wanted him for myself.”

  Savannah didn’t even try to stifle her laugher. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “Nope. I wish I was.” She started wrapping the trays of bacon and sausage she had cooked—once the all-day rush had finally slowed—in preparation for the next morning.

  “Well, don’t worry about her.” Savannah started washing the dishes Gia hadn’t gotten to earlier.

  “Yeah, well, she threatened again to shut the café down. Just what I need, an enemy on the council.” Gia sighed as she slid a tray into the refrigerator.

  “I told you, don’t worry about her. Everyone knows that one’s nuttier than a squirrel turd. No one’s gonna pay her any mind.”

  Gia tried to shrug the encounter off, but it wasn’t so easy now that she wasn’t hustling to get orders out. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were showing a house tonight.”

  “Client canceled.” She finished the last dish, turned off the water, and dried her hands, then hooked an arm through Gia’s. “So I figured we’d go out to dinner. We haven’t had a girls’ night since… Actually, I can’t remember the last time we had a girls’ night.”

  “I’m sorry, Savannah. I can’t. I have to pick Thor up from day care.”

  “Already taken care of. Joey’s picking him up and taking him to my house. He’ll take care of him until we get home.” She smiled and nudged Gia with her shoulder. “Come on. It’ll be fun. You need to relax a little.”

  “You know what?” She’d fallen into the habit of going straight home after work every day. If she was going to live in Florida, it was time to start getting out and doing more. Maybe she’d find it more enjoyable if she got out and had a little fun now and then. What did she really have to rush home to, anyway? “That sounds great.”

  Savannah’s eyes lit up. “Awesome.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “Let’s just get done and get out of here.” She started putting the dishes away. “Our reservations are for eight.”

  Gia didn’t bother to ask where they were going. Past experience had taught her Savannah could be surprisingly tight-lipped when she wanted to be. As she had been about her mother’s death for a long time. Although Savannah had told Gia her mother passed away, it had been years after they’d met that Gia had found out any of the details relating to Sara Mills’s murder. “Did you recognize any of the other names on the list?”

  Savannah’s posture stiffened. “I’m not sure.”

  “What do you mean?’ Gia dropped another bag onto the pile by the back door. Taking the garbage out to the dumpster still brought a small jolt of apprehension. She shook it off and returned to cleaning up.

  “The bar that used to be here? It was called McNeil’s.”

  “You think the Sean McNeil on the list was the owner?”

  “I don’t know. I guess he could have been.” Savannah poured the last of the coffee from the pot down the sink.

  Wiping down the counter, Gia looked around and resigned herself to the fact that everything else was done. She was going to have to take the garbage out if she ever wanted to get out of there. “What ever happened to him?”

  Savannah washed out the pot. “No idea.”

  Gia had procrastinated as long as possible. She unlocked the back door, gathered the bags in her hands, and shoved the door open with her hip.

  The short walk across the parking lot seemed to take forever, her mind conjuring an image of Bradley’s arm hanging out of the dumpster before she could stop it. She used her arm to wipe the sweat from her brow, cursing Bradley for bringing so much pain to her life, then tamped down the guilt that immediately followed any negative thoughts about her ex.

  She tried to refocus her thoughts. What could Sara Mills have wanted with information about the café? Well, bar then. Maybe. And did it have anything to do with her death?

  She shifted the bags to free up a hand, pushed the dumpster lid open, dropped the bags in, turned, and hurried back across the lot.

  Savannah stood in the doorway, holding the door open. Sympathy shone in her eyes.

  “Thanks,” Gia said as she rushed through the door, pulled it shut, and turned the key in the lock. She hurried to the sink to wash her hands.

  Savannah held out a paper towel. “You okay?”

  “I will be.” She took the paper towel and dried her hands, then laid a hand on Savannah’s arm. “Thanks.”

  “Sure thing. It gets easier, you know.”

  “What does?”

  “Living with the pain of losing someone. And the guilt.” She patted Gia’s hand, where it still rested on her arm, then offered a small smile. “Come on. Time to eat.”

  Gia accepted the change of subject, though she couldn’t miss the hurt Savannah tried so hard to hide. She quickly locked up and followed Savannah to her car. While Savannah drove, Gia’s mind wandered back to the list. At least two of the five people on the list were dead. Both murdered. Captain Hayes was still alive, but he’d signed out the same folder only days after Sara Mills was killed. Now he was in charge of the investigation into Marcia’s death. But only after he’d thrown Hunt off the case.

  And what about the oth
er names on the list? Sean McNeil and Floyd Masters? Where were they? Was it possible one of them was the killer? Or maybe the next victim? Researching both of their names shot to the top of her to-do list. As soon as she got home and settled Thor, she’d type their names into Google and see what she could find out.

  “What do you think?” Savannah pulled into a small lakefront parking lot.

  Gia looked around, but nothing seemed familiar, and she’d been too lost in her own thoughts while Savannah drove to keep track of her surroundings. “Where are we?”

  “Lakeshore Pier. The best seafood place around.” She got out and waited for Gia, then started toward what looked like a houseboat. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Though it was already dark, there was enough light to make out the silhouette of the woods surrounding the large lake. Scattered lights dotted the woods where an occasional house sat amid the forest. Moonlight rippled across the lake’s surface. “Gorgeous.”

  Soft lighting ran along the base of the pier, lining both sides, the reflections shimmering against the lake’s dark water. A two-story structure with a wraparound porch sat at the end of the long pier. A few people sat on wicker chairs with drinks in their hands, trays of appetizers sitting on low tables in the center of each seating arrangement.

  Gia’s stomach growled. “Do you think the wait will be long?”

  “We won’t have to wait at all.” Savannah stepped up to a podium and gave the hostess her name.

  “Right this way, please.” The hostess walked across the restaurant and up a flight of stairs in the back corner. She emerged on a terrace that took up the whole roof.

  From where they stood Gia had an unobstructed view of the entire lake. The darkness did nothing to diminish its beauty. If anything, Gia thought it probably added to the allure.

  Palm trees swayed in the slight breeze as the hostess led them to a small wrought iron table beside the railing. She left them to peruse their menus with a promise the waitress would be with them shortly.