“I’ll be right there,” she said.
After Greg was gone, Maddy said, “You need to be careful, too. You know that, don’t you?”
“Absolutely. Why the sudden concern?”
“It occurs to me that you’re not the only one who’s nearly out of family,” she said. With a grin, she added, “If you’re not including ex-husbands, of course. If they count, I’m in fine shape.”
After Maddy was gone, I rearranged things at the prep stations back to the way I liked them. After all, it was my kitchen, and while I didn’t mind Maddy changing things to make her work more efficiently, that certainly didn’t mean I wasn’t going to change them back at the first opportunity.
After Maddy and I locked up for the night, we walked through the passageway where I’d seen Doc Parsons and Missy arguing hours before. The pain in her voice had been palpable, and even though she’d been wrong having an affair with a married man, I still couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. That was until I remembered that the description of the bank robber could have fit her as easily as it could have one of the men on my list.
“They really did a fine job decorating here, didn’t they?” Maddy said, pulling me back into the present.
“It’s one of the nicest features of the promenade,” I said. “I just hope what I overheard doesn’t ruin it for me forever.”
“You’re tough. I’m sure you’ll be able to deal with it. After all, you’ve handled a lot worse over the years.”
As we walked toward the back of the buildings, I could see a patrol car parked next to our vehicles. The decal on the side identified it as Chief Hurley’s cruiser.
“I wonder what could possibly be wrong now?” I asked Maddy.
“It’s too much to hope that he’s there to make sure we get home safely, isn’t it?”
“If he is, it will be the first time.”
Kevin Hurley saw us approaching and got out of the car. There was an odd look on his face, one I couldn’t figure out.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said.
“Hi, Kevin,” I said. “What brings you out here at this time of night?”
“I need to talk to you,” he said solemnly, and I felt my legs start to buckle.
“Steve’s dead, isn’t he?” I knew it in my heart, without any real reason to believe it. Maddy was right there supporting me, or I probably would have fallen on the pavement.
“No, that’s not it at all.” He looked at me closely, then he asked me, “Eleanor, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said, getting the strength to stand on my own again. I had never been Steve’s biggest fan, but he was one of my last links with Joe, and that made him worth more than gold to me. I just wish that I’d realized it while he was still around for me to show it.
“I shouldn’t be telling either one of you this, and if you breathe a word of it to anyone, and I mean anyone, it will be the last time I ever say a word to you. Am I making myself clear?”
“We understand,” I said.
He looked at Maddy. “You can’t tell Bob, either.”
“Sorry, but I can’t promise that,” she said.
“Then we’re finished here,” Kevin answered.
He started to get back into his car when I grabbed Maddy’s arm. “Come on. You’ve got to promise.”
“I won’t do it, Eleanor. I’m not keeping secrets from Bob,” she said.
“Then why don’t you go on home? I need to know what Kevin’s got to say.”
My sister nodded. “Okay, then.”
I called out, “Kevin, hang on a second. Maddy’s leaving.”
“No way,” he said. “I know the two of you better than that. The second I finish telling you, you’ll be on the phone with her.” He smiled wryly, then added, “I’m not blaming you—sometimes I envy you both having someone you’re that close to—but this could end my career if anyone finds out.”
“Fine. I give in. I won’t say a word to anyone,” Maddy said abruptly. “I give you my word.”
He stared long and hard at her, then nodded. “I appreciate that.”
“We’ve promised,” I said. “What is it?”
“The FBI is wrapping things up. They’re satisfied they know who robbed the bank, and who shot Hank Webber.”
“Steve did it, didn’t he?” I didn’t want to believe it, but something in my gut told me I was right.
If Kevin was surprised by my guess, he didn’t show it. “No, it’s pretty clear that it was Trent. They found a couple of stacks of money from the robbery in the debris of the explosion, and there was a gun by the body that matched the one used in the murder. Trent’s signet ring was on the victim’s hand, and his shoes were on his feet. That’s as close as they’re going to be able to make on a positive ID.”
“What about the dental records?” I asked. “Can’t they use those?”
“Trent’s dentist lost them in a flooded basement six months ago,” Kevin said. “They’re hunting down Steve’s records in California, but it’s going to be nearly impossible tracking them down. You shouldn’t worry about it, though. The FBI is satisfied that Trent did it.”
“And do you agree with that?” I asked. “You knew him better than we have.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Longer, at least.”
Kevin shrugged. “They pulled something Trent was working on off his computer, and it sealed the deal for them. It was a confession to the robbery and the murder, and it sounded pretty authentic. He was going to run it in his newspaper tomorrow, but he must have decided he couldn’t live with the guilt until then.”
“But why did he do it in the first place?” Maddy asked.
“He wanted one good headline before he died. It was the only way he could scoop anyone else, and everyone in town knows how bad he wanted that. It’s all pretty pointless, isn’t it?”
“It’s unbelievable,” I said.
“I don’t know. I’ve heard of firemen who set fires, just so they’ll have something to put out. People are capable of doing the most boneheaded things you could imagine.”
“Trent just didn’t seem like the type to me.”
“You never know, Eleanor,” my sister said.
Kevin nodded, and then said, “I just thought you two should know so you could drop your little investigation. There’s no sense stirring things up any more now.”
“But that still leaves Steve, doesn’t it? Isn’t anyone going to look for him?”
“As far as the feds are concerned, things got a little too hot for him around here, so he left town. They’re marking this one closed. Don’t worry, Eleanor, I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon.”
After he was gone, Maddy said, “Can you imagine that? Trent committed murder just so he could have a headline.”
“I don’t believe it,” I said firmly.
“Which part?”
“Any of it,” I said. “Trent wasn’t that crazy. We both talked to him. Did he seem capable of doing something like that to you?”
“What are any of us capable of? You have to admit the man was obsessed with being treated with respect as a journalist. I’m sure in his mind he justified the robbery. Maybe he planned to give the money back after his story broke. And then Hank came back from his break and things went wrong fast. It could have happened that way.”
“I just can’t swallow it,” I said.
“Eleanor, you’re not just upset because we were wrong about everything, are you? It was a long shot from the beginning, we both knew that.”
“I don’t know. I guess you’ve got a point,” I said. “But it just doesn’t feel right.”
“Murder never does, does it? Can you believe Kevin Hurley told us all of that? He must really trust us.”
“We can’t tell anyone what he told us,” I said.
“You don’t have to tell me. I made a promise, and I’m not going to break it.” She hugged me, and then said, “At least it’s all long over.”
“If
it ever is,” I said.
She laughed. “Good night, Sis. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good night,” I said as I got into my car and drove home. I had a hard time letting it go, but Maddy was right. If the FBI was satisfied with the outcome, there was no reason I shouldn’t be too.
There was only one thing that gnawed at me.
If Steve had indeed survived that explosion, why hadn’t he let me know he was all right? Did he care that little about me that he didn’t even think I merited a telephone call to tell me that he was okay? It just proved to me more than anything else that he was a pale imitation of his brother indeed.
I went to sleep dreaming of Joe, and how much I missed him with each passing day.
Chapter 10
“You’ve got mail,” Maddy said several days later as she came back into the kitchen.
“If it’s a last-minute donation for the auction, we really don’t have time to get it into the lineup tonight. The programs were printed yesterday afternoon, so we’ll just have to send whatever it is back to its rightful owner.”
“It’s not about the auction. It’s personal,” she said.
I looked at my sister and saw an odd expression on her face, but I had my hands buried in a Chicago-style pizza at the moment. We’d just recently added them to the menu as a special offering on the weekends, and so far, they were finding their own niche in the pizzeria. It was hard to believe that what I was creating could still be called a pizza and be so different from what we usually offered. I built it from the crust up, and after I covered the bottom of the pan, I shaped the crust halfway up the side of the thicker pan we used especially for these. Then I added the cheese—right on top of the dough—before I filled the deep dish with loads of toppings, and then I finished the entire thing with sauce before I added a nice blend of basil and oregano with some grated Parmesan cheese on top. It had taken me some time to get my recipe just right for our conveyor-style oven, but Greg and Josh had been only too glad to be my guinea pigs as I tested different combinations and thicknesses. While I was probably sure that true Chicagoans would deny my pizza had anything but a cursory relationship to their beloved pizza, it was as close as I could get with the equipment I had on hand, and folks around town seemed to enjoy it.
“Just put it over there and I’ll look at it later,” I said. I was making the new-style pizza for Lincoln Mast—a rich patron who always overtipped—but this was the first time he’d ventured outside of his comfort zone of pepperoni on thin crust. What I was making for him at the moment was about as different as it could be from his usual, and I had no idea what his reaction was going to be.
“You’re going to want to see this. It’s from Steve,” she said as she waved a postcard in the air.
I put the finished pizza on the conveyor oven, and then washed my hands in the sink. After drying them quickly on a clean towel, I took the card from her.
On one side was the Luray Caverns, a tourist spot in the Virginia mountains. On the other, the typewritten note said,
Hey Eleanor.
Sorry I took off, but it was time to go.
Steve
I flipped it back over, then I shook my head.
Maddy was watching me as I read it, and when she saw me look up, she said, “It’s just like him to take off without saying good-bye, isn’t it? At least you know he’s okay.”
“How could I possibly know that from this?” I asked.
Maddy took the card, flipped it over, and looked at the postmark. “This was sent three days after the explosion. That’s pretty good proof, isn’t it?”
“Who types a postcard?” I asked. “He didn’t even take the time to sign it.”
“With that guy, who knows why he does the things he does. Isn’t it good to at least know that he’s okay?”
“I guess so,” I said. I thought about throwing it away, but on the spur of the moment, I tacked it up on the bulletin board where I kept my supply orders and other odds and ends that accumulated around the pizzeria. It was the first piece of mail I’d ever gotten from my brother-in-law. Who was to say how he usually did things? Maybe he typed all of his correspondence. He should have at least stopped in to see me before he left, but I guess that was asking too much.
“Forget about him,” Maddy said. “Are you ready for the big auction?”
“I can’t believe it’s tonight,” I said. “This all started as a way to cover our tracks, and now we’re actually going through with it.”
“Come on. I think it’s going to be fun. We sure have enough contributions.”
“I just hope we have enough bidders to match them,” I said. “We never discussed what we were going to do with the things that don’t sell. Should we donate them to the Salvation Army, or should we try to return them to the folks who donated them?”
“Relax, Eleanor. Art Young is coming, and a few other folks with some real money. I think we’ll be fine.”
“I wonder if we could get Lincoln Mast to come,” I said.
“He might do it, but only if you ask him. He likes you.”
“I’m sure he likes you, too,” I said.
Maddy grinned. “No, I mean he likes you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “The man is twice my age.”
“That doesn’t stop him from dreaming, does it? Why don’t you deliver his pizza when it’s ready and ask him yourself?”
I thought about it, and then shrugged. “Why not? I still think you’re crazy, but if it will help the cause, I’ll do it. We created this monster, so the least we can do is see that it succeeds.”
Maddy winked at me. “Change aprons before you come out. There’s a clean one on your hook.” She studied me a moment, then said, “You know, a little makeup wouldn’t hurt, either. You want to look pretty for our customers, don’t you?”
I was about to retort when I saw that she was grinning at me. “Honestly, aren’t you ever going to grow up, Maddy?”
“Not if I can help it,” she said.
I had a few other things to take care of, and by the time Lincoln’s pizza was out of the oven, I’d managed to change aprons, and against my better judgment, freshen up my makeup. I cut and plated Lincoln’s pizza, then got out my ruler and carefully measured my cuts.
Maddy came back into the kitchen. “Aren’t you done yet?”
“I’m just putting the finishing touches on,” I said.
She looked me over. “On you, or the pizza?”
“A little bit of both,” I said as I stuck my tongue out at her.
“Oh, that’s mature,” she said. “Go on, your audience awaits you.”
I shook my head, took a deep breath, then put on my brightest smile.
Maddy spanked me lightly, and I almost dropped the pizza. “Go get him, tiger.”
Lincoln was reading the Charlotte Observer newspaper as I approached his table. Though his hair was silver, he still cut a nice figure. His suit probably cost more than my house was worth, and his shoes gleamed with a mirror-like finish. He was handsome—there was no doubt about that—and charming too, but even if I was over losing Joe, which I wasn’t and probably never would be, I wasn’t sure I’d ever go out with Lincoln. Not that my refusals had ever deterred him so far.
“Here’s your pizza,” I said as I slid it onto the table.
“What service,” he said as his blue eyes sparkled. “I never expected the owner herself to deliver my food.”
“Just part of the Slice of Delight service,” I said. Honestly, I almost curtseyed. I was really out of practice flirting.
If he noticed, he was too kind to comment.
I plated a slice for him and served him. “I hope you like it.”
“It looks delightful,” he said as his fork poised over it, looking as though he wasn’t quite sure how to attack it.
I couldn’t just stand there watching the man eat. “May I sit with you a moment?”
“Of course,” he said. Lincoln started to stand, but I said, “You’
re fine.”
He refused though, and wouldn’t sit back down until he held my chair for me. I had to admit, his courtly manner was refreshing.
After we were both seated, I asked, “Are you coming to the auction tonight?”
“What auction is that?”
I had a flyer ready for him, and I handed it to him. “Maddy and I have put together a charitable event to raise money for a commemorative plaque.”
“Will anything in particular go on it?” he asked, clearly amused with himself. I watched him take a bite and then frown slightly.
“You don’t like it, do you? I can make you one of your regulars. Just give me ten minutes.”
“Easy, Eleanor. I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it. It’s just so different from what I’m used to. But you know what? Maybe that’s a good thing. I’ve been in a rut so long I don’t remember being spontaneous.” He took another bite, then said, “Now, tell me about this plaque.”
“It’s to honor folks who have fallen in our town’s service over the years,” I said.
His playful smile vanished. “It certainly sounds like a worthy cause.”
Lincoln reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a checkbook. “To whom should I make this donation?”
I shook my head. “It would be great if you could come yourself,” I said. I knew Lincoln didn’t like to socialize among the townsfolk, but it wasn’t because he was wealthy. It was more that he was shy when it came to anyone but me, or so it seemed.
“You know how I feel about crowds,” he said.
I touched his hand lightly, which was playing dirty, but I didn’t mind in the least. “Honestly, it would be nice having you there.”
Lincoln thought about it and frowned, then he slid his checkbook back into his pocket. Oh, no. I’d lost a donation that we needed if we were going to be able to have that plaque made.
“You’re right. I’ll do it. But only if you save me a seat,” he said simply. “If you’re running the event, I’ll be there.”
“Thank you so much,” I said. “You won’t regret it.”
“I’m sure I won’t, if I’m sitting beside you,” he smiled.
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