It Cannoli Be Murder (Bread and Batter Cozy Mysteries Book 3)

by Karoline Barrett

  What I found odd was the lack of noise. It was rather eerie. I didn’t hear any clocks, no refrigerator humming, no air conditioning working, no TV or radio playing in the background, which explained the dead air in the cottage. I wondered what he’d been doing when we called?

  “What do you want?” Edward asked. He motioned for us to sit.

  “I’m investigating the deaths of Rachael and Melanie. We’re talking to as many people as we can,” said Alex.

  His face froze, then his mouth turned down in sadness. “The Rydells are beside themselves.”

  “How long have you worked for them?” Alex asked.

  “Since I was in my twenties.” He smiled briefly.

  “Did they treat you and your wife well?” Alex continued.

  “Of course. They’re generous people. They always treated us with respect. If I’d had an issue with them, my wife and I would’ve moved on.”

  “Where is your wife?” I hoped I wasn’t being too forward, and I extra-hoped Alex wouldn’t mind my interrupting his rhythm. “Dena, isn’t it?”

  A shadow flitted across his face, so quickly that if not for the accompanying stiffening of his shoulders, I’d have thought I’d imagined it. But I didn’t.

  “She’s upstairs. She’s not feeling well. I’d rather not disturb her about this.”

  “I’m sorry,” I replied, hoping I sounded sincere. I didn’t really believe his wife was sick, to tell the truth, but I was at a loss to explain why.

  His odd-colored eyes closed for a few seconds, but he didn’t acknowledge my comment. I fidgeted on the couch. I didn’t feel comfortable here, but I was at a loss to explain that, either.

  “We’ve spoken to the Rydells,” Alex resumed. “You’ve been with them a long time. Is there anyone who you can think of that had a problem with Rachael or Melanie? Anyone who would have killed them?”

  He fiddled with the crease in his pants. “The women haven’t lived here in a long time. I can’t imagine who would want to hurt them. Their murders were a complete surprise to us. We’re sick about it, naturally.” He spoke softly, like he was afraid to disturb the air in the house.

  “When was the last time they were home, do you remember?” Alex asked.

  “No. I don’t,” he answered quickly. “Wait a minute. I believe Christmas. They were here then.”

  “What were they like, the Rydells? As a family, I mean. Happy family? Close family?”

  Edward got up and started toward the stairs, quickly glanced up at them before stopping and turning back toward us. “I never saw anything out of order, if that’s what you want to know. They were like any other family, I suppose, except they had money. Lots of it. We didn’t see, or hear, any fighting, or hear any deep dark secrets, if that’s what you want to know. Dena and I are loyal to them.”

  “Do you have any children?” I put in, hoping Alex was okay with it. I looked around the room quickly. The side tables were bare, except for the lamps. The built-in bookcases across from the couch held books, but no pictures, mementos, anything like that. All the chintz was making me feel a little dizzy.

  He sat back down, and crossed his legs. “One. A daughter. She’s younger than Rachael and Melanie.”

  “What’s her name?” Alex took over.

  “Margaret. Meg. We always called her Meg.”

  “Was she close to Rachael and Melanie? Did they play together? Hang out together?” I asked.

  He rubbed his chin and appeared to be deep in thought. “They played together a little when they were younger, but not much. The Rydell girls went to a private school. Meg went to public schools. Then there’s the age difference. Not a lot, I’ll grant you, but enough so they didn’t have a lot in common.

  “Look, I’m sorry you came all the way out here for nothing. I’m afraid I have no idea who killed Rachael and Melanie. I’m sorry about their deaths. If I could bring them back myself, I would. This has to be awful for Zoe.”

  “And Mr. Rydell, too.” I thought it odd he’d left her husband out. Even odder to me was him referring to Mrs. Rydell as Zoe.

  His eyes were flat when he looked at me. “Yes. Of course.”

  “We’d like to talk to Meg,” Alex said. He shot me a look that I think was supposed to say I can handle it from here.

  He blinked several times and his eyes flitted between Alex and me. “Why would you need to talk to her?”

  “The wider net we cast, the more fish we catch. One of those fish could be the killer,” Alex explained. “Does she live near here?”

  “Yes, and I suppose you could find her without my help.” He emitted a sigh that I didn’t think was going to end. “Shall I give you her address?”

  “We could,” admitted Alex. He pulled out his phone. “Ready when you are.”

  This is where the ticking of the clock would have echoed in the silence, but as you know there was no clock, so the silence just became more uncomfortable. I got the impression the Hallidays didn’t socialize much. Edward didn’t seem at ease with us in his house. “She lives in South Crosley in a condominium complex. 3256 Horseshoe Lane. I believe the name of the complex is Mulberry Cove.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Halliday. And thank you for seeing us.” Alex pulled out his wallet and opened it. “Here’s my card. Please let your wife know we were here, and if she has anything she wants to talk about, she can call me.”

  “You can see yourselves out.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, hoping, I’m sure that we’d be gone when he opened them. I didn’t understand though. If he held the Rydells in such high esteem, wouldn’t he want to help? He reminded me of a balloon that was slowly losing air.

  I followed Alex out of the living room. As we passed the stairs on the way to the front door, I could have sworn I saw a movement out of the corner of my left eye. When I looked up the staircase I saw nothing, but the feeling that someone had been listening to our conversation persisted. I’d bet Bread and Batter that Dena had been standing at the top of the stairs, listening. But why?

  Once Alex and I were back in the vehicle, I told him what I’d suspected. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

  “No. I believe you. But why would she be listening at the top of the stairs? Why not join the party downstairs?”

  “I can’t say. I got a creepy feeling in there. What about you?”

  “I second that. All that silence. I’m all for quiet time now and then, but what do the two of them do when they aren’t working? I say we need to talk to Meg.”

  I waited while he had someone at the police department get her number. Luck was with us. Two seconds later he was talking to her.

  As we backed out of the narrow drive and passed the Rydell mansion again, Alex suddenly stopped the vehicle before turning onto the road, and frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, jolted by his abrupt braking.

  He draped one arm over the steering wheel, and looked at me. “How come Rachael and Melanie didn’t stay in their childhood home when they came back for the reunion? It’s not that far away.”

  “That’s a good question. Maybe we need to ask the Rydells that.”

  He fiddled with the radio, finally tuning it to the Classic Vinyl satellite station. “Hope that’s not too loud. The music helps me think.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “It’s probably nothing. I think I’m looking for anything that will point us to the killer. Or killers. Probably killer. Maybe they just wanted their privacy. You know how it is sometimes, going back to your childhood home as an adult.”

  “Oh, I do. I adore my parents, but sometimes I think they’ve forgotten I’ve actually achieved adulthood. You think there’s some deep dark reason they didn’t stay at home with mommy and daddy?” I admit that I’m intrigued by the deep and dark behind a murder. I wondered what secrets the Rydell’s maybe had that would lead to the murder of their daughters. “Or, maybe the two women just didn’t get along, and didn’t want to be under the same roof?”

  He started driving again. �
��Maybe. I don’t think it’s that important now that I think about it. Let’s go talk to Meg.”

  My phone pinged and I pulled it out of my purse. I winced when I saw it was from Olivia. Got your text. I take it you’re not coming back to B&B today?

  Sorry!!! Alex and I are on our way to talk to Meg Halliday.

  No idea who she is, but maybe she’d like to be my partner at B&B?

  I felt tears gather at the back of my eyes. I’m not usually over-the-top emotional, but I felt bad treating Olivia and my business this way. My phone pinged again.

  I’m kidding you know!! K & I have it all under control. We aren’t going to break up with you or anything. Just checking in to make sure you and Alex weren’t in danger.

  Alex pulled up to a red light and glanced over at me. “Everything okay?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek hoping to stem the tears before they spilled out. It worked. “Yeah. It’s Olivia. I feel so bad deserting her as much as I do.”

  Alex’s smile disappeared as he started driving again. “That’s my fault. Anytime you want to stop helping I’ll totally understand.”

  “No, I told you I’d help. It was my choice. My problem is as much as I love Bread and Batter, Olivia and Kendra, and all our customers, I get involved in solving murders and I can’t walk away from that, either. I promised Liv this would be the last one.”

  “I hope it will be. That wouldn’t exactly be a horrible thing.”

  I looked back down at my phone, relieved she wasn’t angry. We’re fine. On the way to South Crosley. Liv, I PROMISE, this is the last murder. I told you that. I mean it!!

  Ha ha. Not holding you to that. Stay safe while you’re out with the law. She inserted two heart emojis.

  You’re the best. As usual. I sent back a heart emoji and a smiley face.

  “You’re smiling now, so everything must be okay between you two,” Alex commented.

  “It is. She’s the best partner I could ask for.” I took a deep cleansing breath, ready to get back to murder. “So. About Meg Halliday. What exactly are we going to ask her?”

  “I think you mean what am I going to ask her? I’ll take the lead. You were good with Edward, but I know what to ask and how to ask it. I don’t want it to appear that we’re ganging up on her I figure she may be more open than her father. Just instinct on my part. She may have been closer to Rachael and Melanie than her parents, or the Rydells, ever knew.”

  “Got it, detective.” I gave him a jaunty salute. “Are you thinking she’s a suspect?” I asked.

  “I hadn’t gone down that road, yet. Everyone’s a suspect until we find the real killer, or killers.”

  “What would her reason be for killing Rachael and Melanie?” Did we indeed have a new suspect?

  “Jealousy? Maybe she sees the money, the cars, the house, the private school, and whatever other accoutrements come with the Rydell’s type of lifestyle. And here she’s the daughter of a chauffeur and maid. Not that there’s shame in that, but it may have gotten to her. Rachael and Melanie go on to fame and fortune, especially Rachael. At some point, that had to bother Meg, don’t you think?”

  “You have a point, I guess, or maybe it didn’t bother her at all. But say she is the killer. Why wait so long? It doesn’t seem realistic. What does she do for a living? We don’t even know. She could be successful and very happy.”

  He blew out a breath. “You’re right, but maybe she’s been harboring a grudge for years, and the benefit was her chance to get back at them, and the Rydells. Maybe the Rydells didn’t treat her parents well enough. Maybe Melanie and Rachael were jerks to her. I don’t know. Just things I’m kicking around.”

  He certainly had a lot of maybes, but at least he had some viable reasons for murder. “By killing their daughters? How would she have known about the benefit?”

  He turned the music up a notch. “Maybe the Rydells mentioned that their daughters would be coming for the benefit to Dena and Edward. Then they told Meg? At the very least, she might know family secrets that will lead us to the murderer. I can’t count anything out.”

  “Family secrets. I like the sound of that, but murder?”

  “Just keep an open mind,” counseled Alex.

  I intended to.

  CHAPTER 25

  * * *

  We arrived at Meg Halliday’s condominium about an hour later. It was just outside of Syracuse. We rang her bell and a few minutes later she was seating us in her living room. I looked around and admired her decorating tastes. Modern Danish (I know my furniture), and none of it looked inexpensive. She had lots of modern art on the walls as well as beautiful exotic rocks and wood carvings scattered about.

  “Thank you for seeing us,” Alex started. “I’m Detective Alex Britton, as I told you on the phone, this is Molly Tyler.”

  “I wish I could say it’s nice to meet you, but you’re here about Rachael and Melanie’s murders. Murder is never a pleasant subject, is it?” She spread a hand across her chest. “I thought I was going to have a heart attack when my father called to tell me about it. Then it was played over and over on all the news stations. I had to stop watching TV.

  “I just could not believe it. I slept with all the lights in my condo on for a few nights.” She gave a burst of nervous laughter. “Stupid, right? I mean, the murders happened a good hour from here. Why would the killer show up on my doorstep? Sorry, I’m rambling.”

  “It’s okay,” said Alex, looking around. “Nice condo. What do you do for a living?”

  If she was taken aback at his question, she didn’t let on. “I’m an archaeologist. Right now, I’m working with Friedrich Prime. I’ve been working with him for five years. It’s a dream come true. Sometimes I feel as if I am dreaming.”

  I didn’t have any idea who she was talking about, but Alex seemingly did. He gave a low whistle. “The Friedrich Prime?”

  She laughed and relaxed against the back of the white lounge chair she sat in. “Yes, he’s the one.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Impressive. He found the almost complete American Mastodon remains on the shores of Keuka Lake, right?”

  She grinned. “You’re up on your local archaeology. Yes, he did. We were in a remote location on the lake. Someone had found Grallator footprints and called Friedrich. He ended up finding Betty; that’s what we named the Mastodon. Did you know New York has an official state fossil?”

  “Eurypterus!” Alex shouted out as if he was on a game show.

  She jumped up. “Excellent!” She walked to a geometric-looking etagere and picked up something. She went over to Alex and held out her hand. She’d apparently forgotten I was in the room, and Alex had apparently forgotten we were supposed to talk about murders, not have a cozy banter on archaeology. Maybe that was his plan, get her to feel comfortable with him, so she’d open up.

  “Neat!” said Alex, taking what she was holding out to him. “Now, what exactly is it?”

  She bounced up and down a couple of times and folded her hands under her chin. “Fluffy dinosaur feathers preserved in amber, can you imagine? We found several of these on a dig we did in Canada.”

  He examined the amber and handed it back to her. “Incredible. You must love your job.”

  “I do. It’s very satisfying.”

  I decided it wasn’t a bad thing that they’d forgotten about me. I studied Meg, trying to decide if this was the woman who almost ran me down coming out of the side door of the Mellon School benefit when Olivia and I had arrived. I couldn’t tell since the woman had been shading her face with her hand and had worn large sunglasses, and a scarf over her head.

  She looked like the right height and build, but you could probably say the same thing about a million women, including me. She had one of those inverted bob haircuts, which worked well on her. Her almond-shaped green eyes and her slim build gave her a waifish look.

  When Meg had returned to her chair, Alex went back to detective mode, thank goodness. “Your parents work for the Rydells, correct?”<
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  She smiled coquettishly at him. I’m not exactly sure what that word meant, it sounded a little eighteenth century, but it seemed the perfect way to describe what her mouth and eyes were doing. “I’m sure you already know that, detective. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  “Just using it as a starting point. What was your impression of the Rydells growing up? Happy family? Close family? Lots of skeletons in the closet?”