Thanksgiving Deli Murder (The Darling Deli Series Book 28) Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  THANKSGIVING DELI MURDER

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  Thanksgiving

  Deli

  Murder

  Book Twenty-Eight

  in

  The Darling Deli Series

  By

  Patti Benning

  Copyright 2017 Summer Prescott Books

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.

  **This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.

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  THANKSGIVING DELI

  MURDER

  Book Twenty-Eight in The Darling Deli Series

  CHAPTER ONE

  * * *

  Moira Darling stood on her front porch with her hands on her hips, considering the carpet of dead and dry leaves that littered her front yard. I could get the rake out of the garage, she thought. If her yard was smaller, she might have done it despite the chilly breeze, but the grass extended around the house, and it would have taken hours to complete it on her own, especially if the wind began to gust.

  Lawnmower it is, she thought, turning to go back inside as the wind raised goosebumps on her arms. She would have to call the young man who mowed their yard and ask him to come back out one last time that season to turn the leaves into mulch before it started to snow. She loved living in the little stone house in the woods, but maintaining the yard wasn’t as easy as it had been when she lived in town. There, she and her daughter, Candice, had been able to simply take turns with the push mower once a week during the summer to keep the grass looking nice, and it had been simple to shovel their short driveway in the winter. Now, with a much bigger yard and longer driveway, she found herself relying on others more than she would like to at times.

  “We’ll buy a riding lawn mower next year,” she said to herself as she slipped off her shoes just inside the door. Talking to herself was a habit that she had gotten into, and it seemed difficult to break. With David working two jobs, he was rarely home during the day. That left her with her two dogs as conversation partners, and they rarely answered back.

  Her life seemed to alternate between being unbelievably busy, and dull. With her daughter living in another town, and her two best friends busy with their own families and relationships, her main focus was work, and the deli had been running smoothly lately. So smoothly that it hardly seemed to need her attention.

  Helping David run his private investigating business helped give her something to do on the slower days, but they hadn't had a new client in over a week. It was at times like these that she wanted to do something more with her life. David had his career as a private investigator and his growing microbrewery, and it made her itch to begin to work on growing the deli.

  However, when things picked up and she was busy with hiring, helping her friends, or working mornings at her husband’s office, she was glad that she had these slow times to fall back on.

  Moira went into the kitchen and wrote a note to remind herself about the lawn. She stuck it on the fridge, then started scrubbing the coffee pot, pouring the dregs of that morning’s coffee out in the sink. Her two dogs, Maverick the German Shepherd, and Keeva the Irish wolfhound, lay on the kitchen floor, watching her through half closed eyes.

  It was a peaceful morning, quiet and warm in the house despite the wind blowing outside. Moira found herself fighting back a yawn as she finished the dishes.

  “Okay, guys, I need to start getting ready to go,” she said. “I'm going to fall asleep if I don't do something.”

  She dried her hands, then left the kitchen, the dogs following behind her as she went upstairs. She took a few seconds to choose an outfit out of her closet, finally settling on a soft maroon sweater and a pair of comfortable dark jeans. One of the benefits of owning her own business meant that she never had to dress up if she didn't want to. Her customers didn't care if she served them soup and sandwiches in jeans, and she saw no reason to be any less comfortable than she had to be.

  She said goodbye to the dogs, giving them each a treat from the bowl on the kitchen counter, then headed out to the car. Her shift at the deli didn't start for another couple of hours, and she wanted to make a few of stops first.

  David’s microbrewery was located on a farm a few miles out of town. The property was owned by her daughter, Candice, but most of it had been leased out to neighboring farmers. The house itself had been rented to a woman named Thelma, who was related to one of Moira’s employees.

  Not long ago, they had discovered that Allison, the young woman who had worked for Moira for the past two years, was Candice’s half-sister. They were all still reeling from the revelation, and Moira was concerned about her young employee, which was the reason for today’s visit with her aunt.

  She pulled up the long gravel driveway, parking in front of the farmhouse across the way from the brewery’s parking lot. David's car was there; she would have to stop and say hi to him before she left.

  She walked up to the farmhouse’s front door and knocked. A moment later, it opened, and she found herself face to face with a middle-aged woman wearing a full-length apron and covered in flour.

  “Hey, Thelma,” she said. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “Oh, no. Actually, I completely forgot that you were coming over, but that's my fault. Come on in, I was just in the middle of doing some baking.”

  Moira followed the other woman into the house, shutting the door behind her. It was toasty inside, with a fire crackling in the old fireplace in the living room. Thelma had bought her own furniture for the house, and already had paint samples taped to the walls.

  “It looks like you got moved in all right,” she said as they walked through the house toward the kitchen.

  “It's pretty much all I've been doing,” Thelma admitted. “Making the pies today is my version of taking a break, believe it or not. I'm so thrilled that your daughter is fine with me painting the walls. It really helps to make a house feel lik
e home.”

  “I think she's just glad that all of that old wallpaper will be gone,” Moira said with a smile. “I like the colors you're looking at. This place is going to feel like new with a fresh coat of paint.”

  “I can't thank you enough for helping me find this place,” Thelma said. “It's perfect, at least until I decide to buy a house.”

  “I'm glad it worked out. I think Candice was thrilled to rent to you. You're family — well, sort of.”

  The other woman’s face fell slightly. “How is Allison doing? I keep trying to schedule lunch with her, but she always says she is busy.”

  “I don't know,” Moira admitted with a sigh. “She comes to work, but she's not herself. She's quiet, she hardly talks to customers, and she barely says a word to me. Usually, she's the cheeriest and most talkative of us all.”

  “I just wish that the circumstances were different,” Thelma said. “If only she hadn't been the one to find Mike… I can't even imagine how it must have affected her to find out that she discovered her own father’s body.”

  “It hasn't been easy for her. She seemed to be doing better while Candice was here, but she just couldn't put off going home any longer.”

  “I'll try again to see her. I think she wants to avoid talking about it, but she can't keep whatever she's going through bottled up forever. I hope she will at least talk to her mother.”

  “When will she be back?”

  “The cruise ends a few days after Thanksgiving. I know my sister feels terrible, but there's no way she can get back early.”

  Moira nodded, wondering what she would do in that situation. It would be terrible to know that her daughter was going through an emotional crisis and that she had no way to reach her.

  “I'll try to talk to her, too,” Moira said. “I know I'm not really family, but she's related to my daughter. That has to mean something.”

  “I'm sure one of us will be able to reach her, eventually.” Thelma sighed and began to roll out a pie crust. Moira looked around the kitchen.

  “How many pies are you making?”

  “Too many,” Thelma said. “I went a little bit overboard, but I figure I can give them to people. I've got a couple of apple pies with your name on them.”

  “I bet they're delicious,” Moira said. “I know David will appreciate them, too. Thank you.”

  “Of course. With everything you've done to help me out, you deserve more than just a few pies, but it will have to do for now. Let me know if Allison talks to you, okay? I really am worried about her.

  “I will.” She was worried about the young woman too. Only time would tell how she handled the news about her father. Moira knew that processing and healing from the shock would take some time; she just hoped Allison didn't do anything she might regret in the meantime.

  CHAPTER TWO

  * * *

  After saying a quick hello to David at the microbrewery, Moira drove straight to the deli. It was almost noon, and their lunch hours had started. Lunch was always a busier time of day than breakfast, and she didn't want to leave her employees shorthanded, especially with Allison still struggling with her own issues.

  She took her usual spot right in front of the building — another perk of being the owner — and went inside. Nearly half of the tables were taken, and there was a healthy hum of conversation in the dining area. Cold weather seemed to make people crave warm comfort foods, and almost everyone had a steaming bowl of soup in front of them.

  “Hey, Ms. D.,” one of her employees said, looking up from the register.

  “Hi, Darrin,” she said. “How are things going?”

  “It was a slow morning, but it's started to pick up. I'm just about to clock out, unless there's something you want me to do first.”

  “Nope, you're free to go. Is Allison here?”

  “She's in the back. She didn't want to work the register today. We got the black bean soup going, and I did most of the breakfast dishes, other than the last pan of quiches.”

  “I'll see if anyone wants them for half price, and if not, I'll put them in the fridge for you guys to snack on. Enjoy your afternoon off.”

  “I will,” he replied, giving her a smile before typing his code into the register to officially get off the clock.

  Moira took her place at the register and helped the next few customers. Once the line was clear, she slipped into the kitchen to greet Allison. She found the younger woman standing at the stove, slowly stirring the simmering pot of black bean soup.

  “I hope it wasn't too hard to make,” Moira said, setting her purse down on the table. Recently she had felt like she had to tiptoe around the other woman. She wanted to ask her directly how she was doing, but was worried about how Allison would react.

  “It was fine,” her employee said.

  “How has your day been?”

  Allison shrugged. “Is that guy gone yet?”

  “Darrin?” Moira asked, blinking. Allison had known Darrin for years. It didn't make sense that she would refer to him as “that guy,” but she couldn't think of who else her employee might be referring to.

  “No,” Allison said, turning to face Moira for the first time and giving her an odd look. “The guy who has been snooping around the deli all morning.”

  Moira raised her eyebrows. “Darrin didn't mention anything about someone snooping around. Why didn't one of you call me?”

  “He thought I was just being paranoid,” Allison said. “Well, he said it more nicely than that. Everyone has been acting so weird around me lately.”

  Moira felt a pinch of guilt. It was true. Everyone who knew what Allison was going through had been treating her as if she was made of glass. It probably hadn't made things any easier for the young woman.

  “I'm sorry —” she began.

  “It's okay, Allison said quickly, shaking her head. I just want to know if that guy is still out there.”

  “Let’s go see,” Moira said. “Just point him out to me if he's there.”

  Allison put the wooden spoon that she had been using to stir the soup down and followed Moira out of the kitchen and into the dining area.

  “That's him,” the young woman whispered, nudging her boss and inclining her head toward a man sitting at a small bistro table in the corner. He had a drink in front of him, but no food, and was scribbling quickly in a notebook.

  Moira nodded and returned to the kitchen, gesturing for Allison to follow her. “How long has he been here?” she asked once the door was shut behind them, keeping her voice low even though she knew no one else would be able to hear her.

  “Since this morning,” Allison said. “He was already here when I arrived for my shift. Darrin said he got here around nine. He's been ordering drinks and walking around. I saw him taking pictures, and he tried to get into the kitchen once. He said he thought it was the door to the bathroom.”

  Frowning, Moira said, “I'll go talk to him. I'm sure he has a perfectly good explanation, but if he doesn't, I'll ask him to leave.”

  “Do you think he's casing the place?” her employee asked, looking frightened. “What if he's planning to rob us?”

  “I'm sure he's not,” Moira said, trying to calm the younger woman down. “I'll be right back, okay? You keep working on the soup.”

  Despite her own words, she couldn't help but worry that her employee might be right. It certainly sounded like the mysterious man was trying to case their restaurant. Luckily for them, he wasn't very good at doing it without attracting attention.

  She went back out into the main area and walked directly over to the table where the man was sitting. He was wearing all black, including a black wool cap on his head. No wonder he had caught Allison’s attention. Between his outfit and his behavior, Moira thought she would have been suspicious herself.

  “Hello,” she said when she reached his table. “Is there anything else I can get you? We have mini quiches available for half price.”

  “No thanks,” he said, barely looking up at he
r.

  “You've been here for quite a while. Is there something we can help you with? If you need to make a call to find a ride somewhere, I'd be happy to let you use my phone.”

  Now he did look up at her, an expression of annoyance on his face. “I'm fine,” he said. “I didn't know you had a time limit on how long people could stay. I keep making purchases, so I didn't think it would be a problem.”

  “It's just that you're making my employees nervous,” she said. “I'm sure you can understand how they would be uncomfortable with someone taking photos of them. We've had some problems with crime over the past few years, which is why we have so many security cameras installed, as you can see.”

  She saw his eyes dart up to the ceiling and track into the corners, registering the camera above the register and the motion detector in the hallway that led to the bathroom. Clearing his throat, he rose from the table and tucked his notebook under his arm.