Pretzel Pizza Murder Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PRETZEL PIZZA 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

  EPILOGUE

  Pretzel

  Pizza

  Murder

  Papa Pacelli’s Pizzeria Series

  Book Fifteen

  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.

  Author’s Note: On the next page, you’ll find out how to access all of my books easily, as well as locate books by best-selling author, Summer Prescott. I’d love to hear your thoughts on my books, the storylines, and anything else that you’d like to comment on – reader feedback is very important to me. Please see the following page for my publisher’s contact information. If you’d like to be on her list of “folks to contact” with updates, release and sales notifications, etc…just shoot her an email and let her know. Thanks for reading!

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  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I would like to personally thank Lynne DeBoer Moody for the character idea submission that became Marietta Pacelli, Ellie’s long-lost great aunt. I couldn’t imagine a more fun character to write.

  I would also like to thank Melissa Smith for submitting the pretzel pizza idea. I’m not sure if there is a more mouthwatering pizza recipe out there. I got hungry just writing about it!

  PRETZEL PIZZA

  MURDER

  Papa Pacelli’s Pizzeria Series: Book Fifteen

  CHAPTER ONE

  * * *

  “Three large pepperoni and sausage pizzas, extra cheese, with a two-liter of soda.”

  Eleanora Pacelli handed the order over to her delivery driver, who was standing just inside the employee entrance to the kitchen. It had been a busy afternoon, and the orders were coming in just as quickly as they were getting them out. Jacob hadn’t had a chance to take a breather since he had started his shift, but it was even worse for those working in the kitchen. Ellie and Clara, the other employee on shift that night, had been taking turns in the kitchen and at the register. An unusual late-summer heatwave had been holding the town hostage for the past few days, turning the kitchen, with its two ovens and busy stove top, into a furnace.

  As soon as Jacob was out the door with the order, Ellie turned her attention back to the timer on the oven. Only a few minutes left until the next pizza came out. It would be just enough time to drink a glass of ice-cold lemonade, if she hurried. She found herself counting down the hours until she could leave, which was unusual because she loved being at the pizzeria. It was that darn heat. It was making all of them cranky.

  Soon enough there will be snow on the ground, she thought. Then I’ll miss these hot days. Her own words sounded flat in her mind. She would love to see some snow right now. She had thought summer was on its way out, but apparently it had decided to dig its claws in just a little while longer before letting autumn make its mark.

  She was almost relieved when her cell phone rang and she saw Linda’s name on the caller ID. Even though it likely meant that yet another issue had arisen with the pizzeria she was opening in Florida it would give her an excuse to step outside for a few minutes, where there would at least be a breeze.

  “Hey, Clara, I’ve got to take a call,” she said, poking her head through the swinging door that led to the dining area and the register. “Can you keep an eye on things back here? I’ll try not to be too long.”

  Trusting that the young woman would be able to manage things for a little while, Ellie grabbed her phone and stepped through the same door that Jacob had gone through not long before. She let it close behind her and leaned against the wall of the building in the scant shade that the awning over the drive-up window provided, then redialed her friend’s number. When Linda answered, Ellie could hear the stress in her voice.

  “Thank goodness you called back,” she said. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “What’s going on?” Ellie asked.

  “The people who were supposed to install the tiles on the floor never came. They were scheduled for today, weren’t they?”

  “Yes,” the pizzeria owner confirmed. She had made the appointment herself, and had gone over their to-do list enough times that she knew it by heart.

  “Well, they aren’t here. I’ve been waiting around all day. I can’t move the furniture in and install the new counter until the floor is redone, and we’re supposed to open in just over a month. I don’t see how everything is going to be finished in time.”

  “Linda, calm down. Breathe. I’ll call them and see what’s going on. I want you to take a break. Go out to eat, grab a drink, and I’ll let you know when I find out what’s going on.”

  “Okay.” Ellie heard the other woman take a shuddering breath. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m such a mess. It’s just that I’ve put so much into this, and if it doesn’t work out…”

  “I know,” she said. “It will all be okay, you’ll see.”

  After hanging up, Ellie scrolled through her emails until she found the confirmation that the flooring company had sent her. She called their number and asked to be transferred to a manager straight off. Once she got in touch with someone in charge, it only took her a few minutes to figure out what was going on. She called Linda back with the news.

  “They made an error on their end,” she told the other woman. “They have the right date in their computer, but the person in charge of scheduling gave the men the wrong day. They’ll be there tomorrow instead.”

  “Thanks, Ellie. That’s such a relief. I’m sorry, I know I’m not very good under pressure. I’m just thankful that you know what you’re doing.”

  Ellie hung up and rested the back of her head against the brick of the building. She liked Linda a lot, but this wasn’t the first time she had second guessed the woman’s ability to be in charge of a restaurant. Did I make a mistake? she wondered. Is the pizzeria in Florida doomed to fail? It was a question that had been plaguing her ever since she had committed to it.

  Papa Pacelli’s was one of the most successful restaurants in Kittiport, Maine. Everyone in the neighboring towns knew about it, and Ellie knew that their pizza was the best for miles around. Opening a second location had been on her mind for a while, and when she ha
d run into Linda during a trip to Florida, things seemed to fall right into place. However, opening a restaurant on the other side of the country was in many ways more difficult than she had bargained for. It was too late to back out now, but she wouldn’t be surprised if she developed permanent ulcers from all of the stress by the time it was over.

  She sighed and straightened up. It was time to get back to work. She reached for the door knob, and as she did, her eyes were caught by the glittering engagement ring on her finger. The sight of it made her feel a twinge of guilt. She had been so involved with doing everything for the other pizzeria, that she had hardly given her wedding much thought at all. She and her fiancé, Russell Ward, had discussed having their wedding sometime in the early spring of next year, but that was the extent of their planning. She hoped that he didn’t think that she was uninterested in it. She had been thrilled when he had popped the question, and was still giddy at the thought of marrying him — but other matters were just so much more pressing.

  With a sigh, she pushed the door open and returned to the sweltering kitchen. She had a job to do. There would be plenty of time to think about everything else later.

  After the pizzeria had finally closed down for the evening, Ellie sat in her car with the air conditioning blasting for a few minutes. The cool air blowing across her face felt heavenly. With any luck, the heat wave would be over soon, and the pizzeria’s kitchen would return to being only slightly too warm.

  She glanced over at the passenger seat, where her and her grandmother’s dinner sat. Pizza, for the third night in a row. She couldn’t complain. It was free, after all, other than the cost of the ingredients, and it meant that neither of them had to throw something together when she got home at night. She could get home, grab a slice, and just relax. In fact, that sounded like just what she needed. Some good rest and relaxation. Feeling tired but content, she put the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. It was time to go home.

  When she neared her home, she was puzzled to see another car in the driveway, one that she didn’t recognize. She knew that she wasn’t expecting any guests. Had her grandmother invited someone over for dinner? Nonna usually called her granddaughter to tell her if she was having a guest over, but Ellie hadn’t missed any calls from her.

  She parked next to the other vehicle and got out. Balancing the pizza box on one hand, she fumbled with her keys, only to find that the front door was already unlocked.

  “Nonna?” she called out as she went inside. “Is everything okay?”

  She heard movement, and a moment later her grandmother appeared in the front entrance way, followed closely by Ellie’s little black and white papillon, Bunny.

  “What’s going on?” she asked the older woman. “Who’s here?”

  “Shh,” Nonna said. “She’s in the bathroom. She doesn’t know you’re here yet.”

  “Who?” Ellie asked, confused.

  “Your Aunt Marietta. She thinks that the pizzeria belongs to her.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  * * *

  “Now, now, don’t give the poor woman a heart attack,” an unusually high-pitched voice said. Ellie looked up to see a woman who was older than her grandmother standing in the doorway that led to the hallway, leaning on a wooden cane, followed closely by a man.

  “Arthur only left me half of the business. I wouldn’t try to take what isn’t mine.”

  “My husband’s will didn’t mention you once,” Nonna said. “You have no business showing up here after all this time and —”

  “On the contrary, his will specifically states that half of Papa Pacelli’s is mine,” the other woman said. “I have a copy of it right here.”

  With a flourish, she pulled a folded piece of paper out of her handbag and passed it over to Nonna. Ellie leaned down to read it over her grandmother’s shoulder. It was a copy of a page from a will. She recognized her grandfather’s handwriting and signature, and sure enough, Marietta’s name was on the paper.

  “This isn’t his will,” her grandmother huffed, pushing the paper away. “His will was read by a lawyer after he passed, and you weren’t on it.”

  “Really?” Marietta said. “And what lawyer was that? Because my lawyer notarized this paper and dated it himself.”

  Ellie saw her grandmother glance back down at the paper. Something flickered across the older woman’s face. Doubt, maybe.

  “I think we should all go and sit down,” she suggested, taking her grandmother by the elbow. “We can discuss this around the table. I’ll set plates out for everyone.”

  Ellie’s mind raced as she set the table. She hadn’t even known that she had an aunt named Marietta. Was it possible that she really owned half of the pizzeria? And if she did, what did that mean for Papa Pacelli’s?

  By the time the four of them were seated, Ellie had calmed down enough to see the logical next step. They should call a lawyer and get this all straightened out. Arguing amongst themselves wouldn’t do any good. Unfortunately, the two older women didn’t seem to share her opinion. Nonna and Marietta were glaring at each other. She was beginning to get the feeling that there was more history there than a contested will.

  The four of them stared at their pizza slices in silence, until at last Marietta said, “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself to you. I’m Marietta Brown. I believe I’m your aunt, if you are who I think you are.”

  “And I’m Orson Brown,” the man said. “I apologize, I told her this wasn’t the way we should go about this.”

  “I am Eleanora Pacelli,” Ellie said. “I go by Ellie. And yes, I’m Arthur Pacelli’s granddaughter.”

  “Oh, hush, Orson. This is family business, there’s nothing wrong with going straight to the people involved. It’s nice to meet you, Ellie. My friends call me Mary. Feel free to do the same. I apologize for all the… nastiness… surrounding our meeting. You don’t have anything to do with any of this. I’m usually much more pleasant to be around, but rudeness brings out the worst in me. Ann here has never liked me much.”

  “And I have good reason for that, you old –”

  “See what I mean? She’s always been the rude one.”

  Nonna glared at her, then focused on her pizza with a frown.

  “I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand what’s going on. If you had Papa’s will, why didn’t you come forward sooner? He’s been dead for just over a year. There was plenty of time to say something.”

  “I don’t live around here, dearie. I didn’t even know that he had passed until recently. Your grandmother and I, we aren’t exactly on speaking terms, as you can see.”

  Ellie looked over at her grandmother, who was still frowning down at her food. She was itching to ask what their issue with each other was, but refrained from it. Even if Nonna would tell her, she probably wouldn’t want to have this discussion in front of this woman whom she so obviously hated.

  “Now, I don’t want you to worry. This is between your grandmother and me. There is no reason for you to get involved.”

  “Actually, there is,” Ellie said. “You see, Nonna gave me the pizzeria. I’m the new owner, at least I was until this came up.”

  Marietta stared at her for a long moment, then she turned her gaze to Nonna. “You gave your husband’s pizzeria to her? Does she even know what she’s doing?”

  “Now, dear…” Orson began.

  “Ellie has been wonderful for the pizzeria,” Nonna said, cutting him off. “The restaurant is popular again, and she’s even opening a second location in Florida.”

  “Well, that’s something we’ll want to talk about. I’m not sure I want to open a restaurant in another state. It seems like there is a lot of potential for loss there.”

  “It’s not your decision,” Nonna snapped. “I don’t know who you think made that will, but it’s not Arthur’s.”

  The conversation was making Ellie more and more uncomfortable. Was it possible that the pizzeria really wasn’t hers? How could they have missed the will fo
r so long?

  “I thought that you said that Papa’s will was read,” she said, looking at her grandmother. “Maybe he made Aunt Marietta’s will a long time ago, but then he changed it without telling her?”

  To her surprise, her grandmother looked away. “You won’t get an answer from her,” Marietta said. “She knows that this will was made after whatever will she read. She saw the date.”

  “Nonna, is that true?”

  Her grandmother hesitated, then nodded. Ellie felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. Was she about to lose the pizzeria? All of her annoyance at having to work in the hot kitchen earlier that day seemed to vanish. She felt suddenly dizzy. This couldn’t be happening.

  “We will go to the lawyer tomorrow,” Marietta said. “He’ll get this all straightened out, I’m sure. I’m willing to work with you, Ellie. I’m sure we can figure out something.”