A Slice of Murder (8 page)

“I took your side!” Josh yelled. “I stood up for you, and now you’re turning your back on me?”

“Josh, listen to me. This is for the best.”

“Mom said you’d do this, but I didn’t believe her.” He threw the apron at my feet, then stormed out.

Maddy came rushing back. “What was that all about?”

“Josh and I had a difference of opinion.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” she asked. “I half expected to find you crumpled up on the floor back here.”

“Maddy, go take care of our customers. I’m fine.”

“Okay,” she said, though it was pretty clear she didn’t believe me. “Here’s what I’ve got so far.”

She put the orders on magnetic clips and stuck them on the wall where we had a metal strip. I studied the orders so far and got to work on the pizzas. We offered fresh ingredients on our pies, and I made the sauce myself. After I spread it out evenly onto the four crusts I had waiting, I dealt the toppings out like they were playing cards, then drowned each pizza with the whole-milk mozzarella and white cheddar blend of cheese my customers preferred.

After I slid them onto the conveyor, one after the other, I started on the sandwiches, making two Turkey Clubs, a Garlic Chicken Sub, and a Raging Panini with every hot pepper I had in stock included. It kept me busy enough for a time that I nearly forgot about Richard Olsen, at least for the moment. The phone rang a few times, but I let the machine pick it up. Not only was I too busy to take orders over the phone, but I was in no mood to tell folks we weren’t delivering. It was a fair part of our business income, but for tonight, we were going to have to do without it.

Maddy came back to pick up a pizza and said, “Someone wants to see you.”

“I’m not in the mood to be on public display,” I said.

“I think you’ll want to make an exception.”

“Why would I want to do that?” And why was she suddenly smiling? “Maddy, what are you up to?”

“Me? Nothing. I can’t believe you’d accuse me of being up to something without any proof.”

“I’m sorry,” I said contritely. “It’s just been one of those days.”

“I accept your apology. Hang on a second.”

Maddy vanished for a second, then came back with David Quinton.

“Hi, Eleanor. Sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

David and I had gone to high school together, and we had even dated a few times before I’d gotten involved with Kevin Hurley. There still was animosity between the two men all these years later, at least from what I’d seen, though I doubted it could possibly still be over me.

David had aged well, his boyish good looks transforming him into a handsome man, with a strong chin, a very fit body, and a pair of baby-blue eyes that had melted more hearts around town than just mine fifteen years ago. David had never married—devoting himself to his business instead—and eleven months after I’d lost Joe, he’d come calling on me, stating his wish to get reacquainted. I’d rebuffed him, the pain of losing my husband still fresh in my heart, but he’d been persistent, asking me out once a month every month since then. Why he didn’t give up and move on was beyond me, but my refusals had done nothing to decrease his ardor. Maddy thought I was crazy for turning him down, but then again, she hadn’t had Joe.

“Hi, David. It’s sweet of you to check on me, but I’m fine, honestly, I am.”

“Do you need help hiring a good lawyer? I’m happy to do anything I can; all you have to do is ask.”

“Thanks, but Bob Lemon is representing me,” I said.

“He’s a good man,” David said as he nodded. “Isn’t there anything I can do?” He looked around the kitchen and saw that I was alone. “I’m handy with a knife and a cutting board, so I can help you back here.”

“I’ve got it covered,” I said, trying to keep the smile off my face. He was like a puppy in his earnestness, and I felt my heart finally start to soften toward him some. It was a slow thaw, but a thaw nonetheless.

He still wasn’t going to give up. “Deliveries, then. I can surely do that for you.”

I looked him steadily in the eye. “David, I appreciate the offer, honestly, I do, but I’m fine. Everything’s under control.”

His features softened for a moment. “Eleanor, you don’t always have to be so strong and independent. There’s something to be said for letting someone else see that you can be vulnerable, too.”

“I know,” I said. He was right, but I could no more change the way I’d become than I could transform myself into a tall blonde, like my sister had. I just wasn’t built for it.

“Don’t wait too long,” he said.

“Why? If I do, are you finally going to take my advice and start asking other women out?”

“This isn’t about me. It’s about you. I’d hate to see you close yourself off to life after Joe. He wouldn’t have wanted you to do that, and you know it.”

“That’s enough of that,” I said, suddenly cold. He had no right to bring Joe into our conversation. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

He looked so sad at my response that I almost apologized, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Instead, he left the kitchen looking as though he’d just lost his last friend.

Maddy came back thirty seconds later, a scowl plastered on her face. “What did you do to that man? He looked like he was getting ready to go look for the tallest building he could find so he could throw himself off it.”

I waved a hand in the air. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Maddy wasn’t having any of that, though. “I don’t care what you want, Eleanor. He’s a good man, and he deserves better than the way you treat him.”

“Do you like him? If you want him, he’s all yours.”

“Don’t be thick,” Maddy said, her voice rising with every word. “He wants you. What did you say to him to make him slink out of here like he did?”

“He brought up Joe,” I said, trying to choke back my tears. I wasn’t going to cry, I promised myself. I wasn’t.

Maddy’s voice softened. “Kiddo, nobody in the world loved your husband as much as you did, but I had to be next in line. He was a great guy, but he wasn’t a saint.”

“I know that,” I said, fighting to keep the quiver out of my voice. “But he was mine.”

Maddy took my hands in hers. “He’s gone, Eleanor. You know as well as I do that he wouldn’t want to see you like this. He wanted you to be happy.”

“I’m happy,” I said as I pulled a hand from hers and wiped a few tears from my cheeks. I hadn’t even realized that I’d started crying.

“Yeah, you look overjoyed,” she said.

I pulled my other hand away. “Listen, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.” As I sniffled a little, I asked, “Don’t you have customers to wait on?”

“You’re as stubborn as Dad was, you know that, don’t you?” Maddy asked.

“Well, you’re as nosy as Mom,” I said.

Maddy shook a finger at me. “There’s no need to be mean. I’m going back to work.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said.

After she was gone, there was a lull in the orders, giving me too much time on my hands, and too many thoughts swirling around in my head. How did everyone feel they had the right to tell me what Joe would have wanted? He was my husband, my best friend, and my one shot at happiness. Was that true, though? Could I love another man? Was there room in what was left of my shattered heart to let someone else in? I didn’t honestly know the answer, and I wasn’t certain I ever would.

It was all too hard, too much to deal with at the moment, and as I longed for enough new orders to distract me, Maddy came back. There was no sign of our previous conversation in her gaze, though I was sure mine was still displaying it like a billboard by the side of the road.

“I hope you’ve got more dough,” she said.

I’d recounted the rounds we had left. “We’ve got enough for fourteen more crusts,” I said. “Surely that’s enough to see us through the rest of the night.”

“Twelve will do just fine,” she said. “Carrie Wilkes just came in and ordered twelve specials to go. I told her we could do it.”

“Let me get started on it,” I said as I began pulling out balls of dough. “Is she having a party or something?”

“Or something,” Maddy said. “She’s taking them to Rick’s dorm room over at the college. I’ll go tell her you’ll get started on them right now.”

Carrie would never learn, but I wasn’t about to say anything to her. She had been divorced for sixteen years, leaving her with a son to raise alone, and a stack of bills that continually grew. She’d started an office-cleaning business so she could work at night while her sister watched Rick, and she’d built up the company until she had branches spread out over Virginia, North Carolina, and Tennessee. Carrie had insisted that her son go to North Carolina Mountain University, a forty-minute drive from Timber Ridge. He’d agreed but had set some ground rules that Carrie continually broke. I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about getting the pizzas, but I wasn’t about to challenge her on it. Carrie had developed a hair trigger when it came to conversations about her son. Still, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I couldn’t do it to Rick. He’d worked for me during high school—over his mother’s protests that he didn’t need a job—and I had a great deal of affection for him. He’d given me his number at college, as many of my alums had given me theirs.

I called him up and heard party music in the background.

“Hey, Rick. It’s Eleanor Swift.”

“Eleanor, how’s life?” There was a pause, and then he laughed. “You’re calling about my mom, aren’t you?”

“Did you know she just ordered a dozen pizzas?”

“Yeah, it was at my request. I’m inviting the whole floor to my room for pizza, and yours is the best anywhere.”

“You’re just a little prejudiced,” I said. “I’ll start on them now.”

“Thanks,” he said, “and thanks for checking with me. She’s getting better, honestly. I’ve got her weaned down to one visit a week.”

“That still sounds like a lot,” I said. I remembered the sense of freedom I’d felt during my freshman year of college, and how much I’d cherished my privacy from my parents and from Maddy.

“Are you kidding? She wanted to go to class with me the first week I was here. I’d say we’re making great progress.”

If he knew about what had happened to Richard Olsen, he didn’t mention it, which was fine with me. For once, it was nice talking to someone without having that shadow looming over me.

“Okay, they’ll be on their way soon. You should have them in about an hour.”

“Sounds great. Bye.”

After he hung up, I got started on the pizzas. Then after I slid them onto the conveyor I began to clean up. It was close to ten, our regular closing time, and I was tired, though I’d put in quite a bit less than a full day. It was probably from the strain of trying to find a killer and run a business at the same time. Maddy and I were going to have to figure out a way to balance the two, or I’d be worn thin in no time at all. Still, it was good having customers back in A Slice of Delight. It had felt less than whole without the sounds of people enjoying themselves there. By the time we’d ushered the last customer out the door, I was ready to go home.

But we still had work to do. Maddy grabbed a dishrag and started wiping the tables down as I ran our register reports and balanced our cash in the drawer. We’d had a good night, but it had meant a great deal more to me than the money we’d made. I’d been back in my element, making pizzas and sandwiches and, for the most part, not worrying about anything else.

The totals matched, and Maddy and I managed to finish cleaning the place up in record time.

I was feeling pretty good about the world when we got to our cars in back. Hers was pristine, but my driver’s-side window had been shattered by a cinder block that now lay on the front seat.

Someone had painted “KILLER” in red on the block, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Some folks had been willing to give me the benefit of the doubt, but it appeared that some were still under the impression that I had something to do with Richard Olsen’s death.

And there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

I
was reaching for my keys when Maddy grabbed my hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to get the cinder block out and drive home.”

“We’ve got to call the police,” she said.

“Why? I’m pretty sure you can’t get fingerprints off a concrete block. What good will it do?”

“The chief needs to know that someone’s threatening you.” I’d never seen Maddy so eager to call Kevin Hurley in my life.

“He’s just going to say it was a prank,” I said. “It’s an exercise in futility.”

“Call him,” Maddy said.

“Fine, if it will make you happy.”

I dialed the police station and was told by Helen Murphy that the chief was off duty. Didn’t they ever let the poor woman go home? “Okay, then I’ll tell you. This is Eleanor Swift. Someone threw a concrete block through my car window, and they spray painted ‘killer’ on it before they chucked it. Do you need to send someone out, or should I just forget about it?”

“Are you still at the Slice?” Helen asked.

“For the next two minutes. Then I’m going home.”

“Don’t do anything until we get someone over there.”

She hung up on me, and I turned to Maddy. “I still don’t think it’s that big a deal. I’m guessing someone did it as a prank.”

“It’s not a good idea leaving,” Maddy said. “We have to give them more than two minutes.”

“We’ll give them all the time they need,” I said as I pounded my hands together. “Can we at least wait in your car? It’s cold out here.”

“I don’t see what that could hurt,” Maddy said. We got in her car, and she turned on the heater. After a few minutes, it began to blow out warm air, and I finally began to warm up.

“Who would do something like that?” Maddy asked as she stared at my shattered window.

“Somebody with too much time on their hands, and not enough sense,” I said. “If I had to guess, I’d say alcohol was involved, too.”

“You seem to be taking this pretty calmly,” my sister said.

“What do you want me to do, go hide in a corner until it’s safe to come out again? To be honest with you, I half expected something like this to happen.”

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” Maddy said.

“Right back at you,” I replied amicably.

We were still chatting when a police car flashed its lights as it drove silently toward us. Maddy and I got out of the car, and I was surprised to see the chief of police himself get out of his cruiser.

“I thought you were off duty,” I said.

“I am,” he admitted. “Josh stormed off after he chewed me out for talking to you, and I was kind of hoping I’d find him so we could talk about it.”

“He’s a good kid, Kevin. He’ll be all right once he calms down.”

Kevin gave me a burst of his lopsided grin. “Like father, like son, I know. Don’t think my old man doesn’t laugh about it all the time.” He dropped the conversation, then shined an industrial-sized black flashlight into my front seat. “Unbelievable.”

“I know. I really feel the love.”

Maddy stared at us both. “Have you two lost your minds? This is clearly a threat, and you both need to take it seriously.”

“It’s not a threat,” Kevin and I said in almost perfect unison.

She shrugged, then said, “If you need me, I’ll be in my car.”

After she got back in, Kevin said, “I’ll get the cinder block. Then we can patch your window with some cardboard until you can get it fixed. Sorry this had to happen, Eleanor.”

“It didn’t have to happen; someone did it on purpose,” I said. “But thanks for the thought, anyway.”

Kevin just shrugged, and after he put on gloves, he gingerly reached down and picked up the block, carried it to the trunk of his car, then returned with a piece of cardboard and some duct tape. As he taped it in place, he said, “Can Maddy take you home, or would you like a ride?”

“I have no desire to ride around town in a squad car, no matter what time of day or night it is,” I said with a hint of laughter in my voice.

“Fine, I just thought I’d offer.”

I could see he was in some real pain about his son’s reaction to his banishment. “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”

“I just wish I could believe that,” Kevin said as he got into the squad car. Then he drove away.

I rejoined Maddy and said, “How about a ride home? I’ll call Bob Pickering in the morning.” Bob ran an auto repair service, but he was much more than that. His realm of problem solving went well beyond the normal service, diving into problems from where to hold a wedding to when to plant peas in the garden.

“Would you like to stay with me again this evening?” she asked. “We can make another night of it.”

“No, thanks for the offer, but I need to go home. It’s where I belong.”

Maddy nodded, and as she drove to my place, she said, “You know, I could always stay with you.”

“I’m fine, Maddy.”

“Okay,” she said. “But I’m going in with you when we get there to make sure everything’s all right.”

“What are we going to do if it’s not?”

She laughed. “Are you kidding? The Spencer women can handle anything.”

“Yeah, but I’m a Swift now,” I said.

“You were a Spencer first, though,” she said.

Fortunately, as Maddy and I went through the house, it was clear that the cinder-block thrower hadn’t ventured to my home.

Once Maddy was gone—with my reassurances that I would call her at the first sight of trouble—I took another long shower and went to bed. With everything that had happened, it was amazing that I dropped off so quickly, but that was another testament to how the turmoil of the day had affected me.

I managed to sleep through the night and didn’t wake up until my alarm clock shook me from a deep and dreamless sleep at seven the next morning. We didn’t have to be at the pizza parlor until nine, so that gave us a little time to do more digging around town. With the clues we’d found at Richard Olsen’s place, we certainly had enough places to start looking.

I’d just gotten out of the shower when I heard my doorbell. After donning my robe and wrapping my hair up in a towel, I peeked outside and saw Maddy standing there, holding two coffees and a bag of something.

“Hey, you’re actually up?” I asked. My sister was notorious for her ability to sleep in if given the least bit of notice.

“I got up before you, it looks like,” she said as she walked inside. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, I just need a few minutes to get ready and we can go.” I took the coffee from her, enjoyed that first sip, then gestured to the bag. “Is there something good in there for me, too?”

“Cinnamon buns, highly caloric and extremely decadent. If you want to pass, you won’t hurt my feelings.”

“If I’m ever near death, wave one of Paul’s cinnamon buns under my nose. If that doesn’t rouse me, you have my blessing to go ahead and bury me.”

I made a grab for the bag, but Maddy pulled it out of my reach. “I thought you were getting dressed first.”

“That was before I knew what we were having for breakfast.”

“Clothes first, and then we eat.”

I broke my previous record for getting ready and met her in the kitchen nook as she was halfway through with her treat.

“Your hair has to be dry, too,” she said with a mouthful of bun.

“You said get dressed, so I got dressed. Now, are you going to hand mine over, or are we going to start the day with trouble?”

She laughed as she tossed me the bag. “I know when I’m licked.”

I took my first bite right out of the bag, before I grabbed a plate or even bothered to sit down. It was just as good as I remembered, the still-warm bread with hints of cinnamon, and the icing sweet enough to smell from ten yards away.

“Do you eat standing up all the time when I’m not here?”

I nodded. “There are fewer calories consumed if you eat over the sink. Didn’t you know that?”

She smiled. “Not until just now. I’ll have to try that myself.”

My sister was notorious for putting out an entire formal place setting, even when she was dining alone. She got some great bargains buying discontinued patterns at china shops, since she rarely bought more than two of anything. It made her dinnerware an eclectic mix, but it suited Maddy’s personality, so it worked for her.

As we ate, I said, “I figure we’ve got about an hour and a half before we get to the Slice. Where should we start?”

“I don’t know about you, but I want to talk to Faith Baron,” Maddy said. “There’s nothing like a lover having the passion to kill to arouse my suspicions.”

“Or the wronged husband,” I said. “Steve could have done it, but I don’t think Faith has it in her.”

Maddy pointed the remnant of her cinnamon bun at me. “But then again, did you think there was the slightest chance she was having an affair with Richard Olsen before I found that letter?”

“No,” I admitted. “I didn’t see that coming. So, we talk to Faith and Steve Baron.”

“But not at the same time,” Maddy said.

“Of course not. Who else is on our list?”

She finished her bite, then said, “I’d love to know who he was blackmailing, and where all that money came from. You should have seen Sheila’s face when she saw how much money was in Richard’s checking account. I thought she was having a heart attack.”

I thought about that a moment, then asked, “How sure are you that what you saw was sincere?”

“Pretty sure, why?”

“I’m just thinking, if she knew she was on that checking account, and how much was really in there, it would make a pretty nice motive for murder, don’t you think?”

“She wasn’t faking it,” Maddy insisted. “I caught her when she passed out, remember? She was all dead weight.”

I took a bite, then had another sip of coffee. “Okay, what if the size of the account was a surprise, but not the fact that she was included? Could that be why she fainted on you?”

“I suppose it’s possible,” Maddy allowed.

“As likely as Faith having an affair with Richard Olsen?”

She thought about it, then nodded. “I’d say they’re about equal.”

“So we add Sheila Olsen to our list. Who else makes the cut?”

“You mean besides the person being blackmailed? There’s one thing we never considered.”

“What’s that?”

Maddy said, “What if Richard earned that money honestly? It’s possible, isn’t it?”

“Working for a company that shreds paper? I don’t see how.” Then another thought struck me. “Could he have been stealing from his employer?”

“I guess so,” Maddy said. “Though that might be hard to find out. I don’t even know who owns the business.”

“Neither do I, but it could be an important thing to find out.” I finished my bun, then a sudden thought struck home. “I wonder if Richard himself handled any of the documents that had to be shredded.”

It didn’t take Maddy two seconds to catch on. “Do you think he was fishing in the documents for reasons to blackmail someone?”

“Or even more than one person,” I said. “Who’s to say he did it just once?”

Maddy shook her head. “The poor man’s dead, and we’re doing everything in our power to ruin his reputation before he’s even in his grave.”

“Come on, he wasn’t exactly an angel. It appears that several people had their own reasons to wish him harm.”

“And according to the police, even you.”

“You don’t need to bring that up,” I said. “There’s one person we’ve left out so far. We need to put Penny Olsen on the list of suspects.”

Penny ran Penny’s Antiques, a boutique that offered only the best-quality furniture and other heirlooms.

“That’s it, blame it on the ex-wife,” Maddy said. “Take the low road, why don’t you.”

“What, is there some kind of club you all belong to? If there is, are you the president?”

“There’s no club,” she said. “And just because I’ve been divorced a few times doesn’t mean that I’d be in charge, even if there were one.”

“We need to talk to her, Maddy,” I repeated.

“Fine, have it your way. Penny’s on the list, too.” She frowned, then asked, “I wonder if you’ll hear another word from Kevin about that block thrown through your car window?”

“That reminds me, I need to call Bob Pickering and have him take care of the Subaru before I forget.” I reached for the phone and dialed the number on the list of emergency contacts on the side of my fridge.

Bob answered on the second ring. “Pickering Auto and Problem Solving,” he said before he knew who was calling.

“That’s good, because I’ve got a problem I need solved.”

He chuckled, then said, “Sorry, Eleanor, I don’t get involved in ongoing police investigations.” There was a pause, and then he added, “Not usually.”

“Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be bad. I need you to pick up my Subaru in back of the pizzeria and replace the driver’s side window. You’ve still got that spare key, don’t you?”

“I do. I can’t imagine who would throw a cinder block through your window. What’s gotten into people lately?”

“How did you hear about it?”

“I picked it up on my scanner last night. I leave it on when I go to bed. It’s like white noise usually, but when your name was mentioned, it woke me right up.”

“A block through my window didn’t do much for me, either,” I said. “Can you take care of it?”

“Consider it done,” he said. “I’ll have it ready for you in three days.”

“Three days?” How could I get along without my car for three days? “Can you do any better than that, Bob?”

He hesitated, then said, “I might be able to squeeze you in today sometime, but it’ll be late before I’m finished.”

“Tell you what, if you get it done tonight, bring it back to the Slice and I’ll make you your favorite pizza on the house as a bonus for prompt service. How does that sound?”

“Like I’m going to be eating dinner on you,” he said.

After he hung up, Maddy said, “I don’t even want to hear what that was about. I can’t believe you’re giving away food.”

“Joe would have approved,” I said. “He had a soft spot in his heart for Bob Pickering.”

“Let’s face it, your dear late husband liked an awful lot of unusual characters. He collected them like kids used to collect baseball cards.”

“I know. That was one of the things I loved most about him. Now that that’s taken care of, let me finish drying my hair and we can get started.”