Honey BBQ Murder: Book 10 in the Darling Deli Series

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Honey BBQ Murder: Book 10 in the Darling Deli Series Page 6

by Patti Benning


  She tried to think whether there was anyone that she had angered recently, but drew a blank. Things had been going so well since she had taken a step back from the day-to-day management of the deli. She didn’t think that she had made any enemies in that time. She had done so well at staying out of trouble recently. Had it been too good to last?

  “I honestly don’t know,” she said at last. “I hope not. I don’t like to think that anyone I know would do something like that.”

  With a sigh she hoisted her bag of groceries and made her way into the kitchen, which smelled deliciously like the spicy quiches that Dante had made fresh for the deli’s breakfast hours. She tried to push thoughts of the break-in from her mind. The soup she’d planned for the day’s special was a new recipe, and she knew that she would have to play around with it to get it just right.

  She started by laying thick slices of bacon in a hot pan. The sizzling meat quickly filled the room with a hearty smoked scent, making her stomach growl. She lit another burner and started to melt butter in a second pan. While the bacon cooked, she diced up onions and carrots and cooked them in the butter until they were soft. By then the bacon was perfect, so she pulled the strips out of the pan and laid them on a cooling grate covered in paper towel to soak up the grease. Then she turned her attention back to the vegetables, which would make up most of the hearty soup.

  After pulling a big Dutch oven out of the cupboard, she dumped the sautéed carrots and onions into it and drizzled a couple of tablespoons of olive oil over them. After stirring in a few minced garlic cloves, she poured a mixture of chicken and veggie broth into the Dutch oven and turned the heat to simmer it while she tackled the leafy vegetables.

  Collard greens, mustard greens, baby spinach leaves, and kale all went into the soup next, followed by pieces of the bacon that she had cooked earlier. By now the soup smelled mouthwatering, but it would be another half an hour or so until the vegetables would become tender enough to serve. This gave her just enough time to cut thick slices of the hearty Amish bread and set the cheese, onions, and ham slices on the middle shelf in the fridge so all of the ingredients for the sandwich of the day would be easily accessible to her employees. Once that was done, she went back out front and wrote the special on the blackboard; Pot Likker Soup and a Honey-Baked Ham Sandwich on Amish bulgur wheat bread.

  The day’s special ready, she turned her attention to the next task—assessing Darrin’s progress with the catering preparations for the church event. They were supposed to bring not only food, but also all of the necessary serving dishes, ice to keep the perishables cold, condiments, and paper plates, napkins, and silverware. It was a big job, and she didn’t want to be stuck trying to get everything prepared last minute. The church event was less than a week away, and she hadn’t heard anything else about it from Darrin since Mrs. Young had filled out the forms.

  “I know I signed the order forms, but did you get them turned in?” she asked him. “I want our suppliers to have enough time to get everything together—it’s a pretty big order.”

  “Yep,” he told her. They were sitting at one of the bistro tables to go over the plans, and he pulled a copy of the receipt out from inside a folder. “The meats and cheeses will be delivered Thursday afternoon along with the regular order. The produce is coming Friday, and Anna Miller said she would have the bread driven over Friday morning.”

  “Great,” she said. “I’m glad all of that is settled. How about the truck?”

  “The truck?” he asked, looking at her blankly. She felt a spike of alarm.

  “The refrigerated truck,” she said. “We rent it from Edna at EZ Wheels every time we cater.”

  “Oh no, I completely forgot about it,” he said, wincing. “I’ll call her as soon as we’re done talking. I hope it’s not too late.”

  “Okay. I’m sure it will be fine,” she said. “I’ve never had it be unavailable before. The paper plates and napkins we can pick up from any store… all that we’re missing is a platter for the cheese. I had it at my old house, and lost it in the fire. We haven’t needed one since. I’ll handle that—you just take care of reserving the truck. The number for EZ Wheels is by the phone in the back.”

  “All right,” he told her. “I’ll go do that now.”

  A few minutes later he came out of the kitchen with a worried look on his face.

  “I’ve got bad news,” he said. “Edna told me that the refrigerated truck is rented out to a florist all weekend.”

  “Oh.” Moira frowned. This wasn’t good. There would be way too much meat, cheese, and salad ingredients for her to be able to transport everything to the church event in coolers, but she didn’t know of any other place around that had a refrigerated truck to lease out.

  “I’m really sorry, Ms. D,” Darrin said. “It’s completely my fault for forgetting.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” she told him. “This is your first time organizing a catering event by yourself. I should have reminded you sooner. We’ll figure something out.”

  Despite her positive words, she didn’t have the slightest idea what to do. She wasn’t really upset with Darrin; he had always been responsible and trustworthy, and everyone slipped up once in a while, but it did put her in a tough spot. She would have to get online and look around. Maybe there was a company in one of the bigger towns that would have what she needed, though it would be a pain to have to drive hours to pick up a truck that she would only need for one day.

  First Keeva needing surgery, then the break-in, and now this? she thought. It looks like my streak of good luck has finally come to an end.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Moira stared at the short white truck in front of her, envisioning her deli’s name printed on the side. She hadn’t had any luck finding another truck to rent, but when she had come across an ad for a refrigerated truck for sale for a good price, she had decided it was a sign. David, who knew significantly more about cars and trucks than she did, had agreed to come along and the two of them had driven down to Traverse City to see it the next day.

  “What do you think?” asked the man who was selling it.

  “It looks just perfect for what I need. Does everything work?” she asked.

  “Sure does. Feel free to take a look under the hood if you want.”

  She let David do that—she wouldn’t have a clue what to look for herself—and walked around to the back instead. The doors opened easily, and she was pleased to see that there were already shelves and cupboards installed inside. The thing would be a gas hog, but it would be perfect for catering events. We’ll just have to do a lot more to get it paid off, she thought. It was a good price for what it was, but that didn’t mean it was cheap. Luckily she would be able to write it off as a business expense come tax season if she ended up getting it.

  “Engine look good?” she asked David.

  “It looks fine,” he called back to her. “Want to start it up?”

  She grabbed the keys from the seller and slid herself into the driver’s seat, feeling almost giddy. If the deli had its own truck, it could completely change how they did business.

  The truck started up on the first try, and rumbled softly beneath her. David had the hood up so he could see the engine, so she turned her attention to the interior instead. The dashboard had a readout that told the temperature of the back and the status of the truck’s batteries, which, as long as she remembered to recharge them often, would keep the back cold even if the truck was off. The front smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and stale fast food, but it was nothing a good cleaning wouldn’t fix.

  David shut the hood firmly. “It seems to be running smoothly.”

  “That’s good,” she said, settling further into the seat and placing her hands on the steering wheel, trying to get a feel for what it would be like to drive it. She wasn’t used to being so high up in a vehicle, but she liked it.

  “What do you think?” he asked her, coming around to the driver’s side window and leaning in
to look at the interior.

  “I know I probably shouldn’t make a snap decision, but I like it. If we cater even just once a month, it should pay for itself in a year. I think it would be a good investment.”

  “Do you think you’ll really need it that often?” he asked.

  “I’ve got no idea,” she admitted. “But I hope so.”

  He smiled. “It’s good to be optimistic. If all else fails, you can probably resell it and get most of your money back. It’s in pretty good shape.”

  “That’s true.” She grinned, feeling like a little kid at Christmas at the thought of getting her very own refrigerated truck. “Now all that’s left is to talk to the seller and see if he’ll go down at all. Maybe you should do it—I’m sure he’ll be able to take one look at my face and tell just how much I want this thing.”

  Two hours later she was on the road in her new white truck, feeling like the luckiest woman alive. Not only had she just acquired a new vehicle, but the seller had also agreed to go down more than she expected. At first she had been worried that something was wrong with the truck that he wasn’t telling them, but he had explained that his own business—a seafood restaurant—had failed and he was in serious need of some fast cash to pay off his remaining debts.

  “Never take out a loan just to stay in business,” he had warned her. “If you do, you’ll regret it.”

  It was good advice, and she hoped she’d never have to resort to a loan. The deli was doing better than ever, and they would be able to cater so much more easily now—not to mention that after she got the truck paid off, she would be able to lower her rates, which would be likely to bring in many more customers. And once she got the deli’s logo printed on the side of the truck it would be a good form of free advertising whenever it was parked out in front of the deli.

  She had just pulled in to the deli parking lot when her phone rang. The number that came up on her screen she recognized as Rick’s. I bet he wants to know how Keeva’s doing, she thought.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “Moira…” Rick’s voice was a whisper. “I think I made a mistake. You’re in danger. I found out that Chelsea was cheating on me, and I think I know who with. I wasn’t thinking when I told him where you live. I think he’s the one tha— hold on.” He shouted something muffled to someone else on the other end of the phone.

  “I have to go,” he said a second later. “I’m sorry. Be careful, and don’t tell him that I called.”

  He hung up, leaving a befuddled Moira to stare at her phone. What on earth had that been all about? Tell who that he’d called? What did he mean, she was in danger? Should she call him back? No, she decided. He sounded like he was trying to keep his call to me a secret. Either the man had been driven insane by the loss of his wife, or there really was some sort of danger. Either way, it was unlikely that calling him back would make matters better.

  She turned her phone’s screen back on to make a call to David, then gave a sharp hiss of annoyance when she saw that her phone was nearly dead. Contacting the private investigator would have to wait until she got home.

  “Thanks again, Logan,” she said as the teenager gave Maverick and Keeva one last pet on the head each. “They seem so much happier since you started coming over.”

  “I love seeing them. It’s awesome of you to give me this job, Ms. D,” he said. “Getting paid to hang out with dogs is the best.”

  “I bet you’ll be able to get a job at a real kennel when you’re older,” she said. “Or maybe even start a kennel of your own.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “First I’ve got to graduate from high school, though.” He made a face and she laughed. The boy had opened up a lot since he started dog sitting for her, and she was more glad than ever that she had taken a chance on him.

  “Oh, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she said. “Have you seen any strange people on my property or cars hanging around my driveway? The police still don’t have any idea who broke in, and Detective Jefferson is worried that they may come back.”

  “Um… I don’t think so,” he said. “I don’t remember anything like that. I gotta go. See ya later.” He grabbed his backpack off the floor and let himself out the front door, leaving Moira surprised at the suddenness of his departure. Had she said something to upset him? Weird, she thought. But he’s been through a lot. I’m sure he’s still working out his grief in his own way, and probably isn’t always equipped to deal with social niceties.

  Putting the incident out of her mind, she plugged in her cellphone and called David, wanting to get his opinion on the strange call from Rick as soon as possible.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Man, it’s so early,” Darrin groaned. Moira chuckled as she flicked on the kitchen lights.

  “This is nothing—you just wait until we have to cater an event that starts in the morning,” she said. “This one starts at one, and it will still take hours to prepare for.”

  “I’m glad you got the truck,” he said. “I’m sorry again about forgetting to reserve the one from EZ Wheels.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she told him. “I think buying our own truck for food was a good thing to do, and I might not have considered it for a while otherwise. It’s going to be amazing for advertising. A lot of people don’t even know we cater, but it’ll be hard to miss the truck parked right out front with our logo on it. Hmm, uniforms might be a good idea, too, for catering events like this. They would make us look much more professional.”

  “At least some good came out of my mistake. Uniforms would be cool, as long as they were comfortable. At least I wouldn’t have to spend any time picking out what I’m going to wear to work,” he said with a grin. “So, what do we need to do first?”

  “Well, I’m going to go double-check that the truck is the right temperature and pull it around to the side door. I need you to grab the inventory list and double-check that we have everything on it. We should put things in the opposite order that we’ll take them out, so you can start pulling the bread and larger packages of meat out, but leave the tablecloth, trays, and other things like that for now.”

  “Gotcha.”

  They started their work in companionable silence, Darrin bringing boxes full of food out of the deli while Moira arranged them in the truck. It took them a while, and by the time they finally finished, the day had heated up.

  She shut the truck doors firmly, and after making sure that the temperature in the cargo area was still in the safe range, went inside. By now Dante was here, handling the kitchen and customers singlehandedly.

  “Heading out?” he asked.

  “In about half an hour,” she said. “I’m planning on it taking us about an hour and a half to get set up, but we should probably have some leeway.”

  “Sounds good,” he said. “I hope it goes well. Are you going to be staying there for the entire time?”

  “Yeah, I told Mrs. Young that at least one of us would be there all day in case people had questions about any of the food—I know that there are some people in her church who have food sensitivities—and to make sure nothing goes wrong. Then of course we’ll have to pack up and bring everything back here. At least she’s going to be taking the extra food, so we won’t have to deal with the leftovers.”

  “It sounds like a long day,” he said.

  “It will be.”

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she excused herself from her two employees, stepping outside to answer it.

  “Hey, Denise,” she said. “What’s up?”

  “It’s about Logan,” her friend said. “I know he was supposed to watch your dogs today, but his father is coming to see him last minute today, and he won’t be able to make it to your place. He wanted to call you and tell you himself, but he hasn’t been able to find his phone and he needed to go, so I told him I’d handle it.”

  “Well, that isn’t good,” Moira said, sighing. “I was really counting on him to take care of the dogs today. I’ll see
if Candice can do it.”

  “He was worried you’d be mad,” Denise said. “It’s not his fault—his father is in the military, and is getting deployed on Monday, so this is going to be their last chance to see each other for a while.”

  “Oh, you can tell him I understand. It’s an inconvenience, but that’s all. Worse comes to worst, I can always just leave Darrin in charge and duck out to go let the dogs out.”

  “Thanks, Moira. He’ll be glad to know that you aren’t upset.”

  She got off the phone with Denise and considered her options. It wouldn’t be fair to leave the dogs home alone all day, though at least Keeva had gotten a clean bill of health from the vet yesterday and was able to be out and about with Maverick during the day. She could call Martha and see if she would be able to stop by and let the dogs out in a few hours—she lived closer to Moira than Candice did. But no, Martha didn’t have a key. Candice really was the best option; both dogs knew her quite well, and she would be able to let herself into the house. Better yet, she could hang out there for a few hours and maybe do a load of laundry or watch a couple of movies. Hopefully she was free.

  “Sure, I’ll head over in a little bit.” Candice giggled, and Moira heard a purr like a motorboat. “Felix will want his lunch before I go. I can’t believe how much he’s growing.”

  The deli owner smiled at the thought of the little kitten. He had nearly doubled in size since Candice had gotten him, and his eyes were now an even darker gold. He still retained his playful kitten personality, and her daughter had even mentioned harness training him so he could go to the park with her. Moira had her doubts about a cat learning to walk on a leash, but she figured it would be worth a try. Felix would undoubtedly enjoy the chance to go outside, even if he never warmed up to the harness much.

  “Thanks, sweetie,” she said to her daughter. “Stay as long as you like. The dogs will be happy for your company. There’s some chicken marinating in the fridge—feel free to grill it if you get hungry. There’s also some corn on the cob, but it hasn’t been shucked yet.”

 

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