Grilled Cheese Murder: Book 4 in The Darling Deli Series Page 2

  A moment later the tall man left without buying anything and Moira got up to find Dante. He was busily scrubbing dishes at the wide sink in the kitchen. When she approached, he looked up and greeted her casually as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  “Did you want me to start thawing more zucchini bread, or do you think we have enough?” he asked her. She frowned for a second, not sure whether she should ask him about his odd reaction. With a mental shrug, she decided not to talk about it if he didn’t want to. He had always been the most private of her employees, and it wasn’t her place to push him for an explanation that he didn’t want to give.

  “I think we’ve got enough, but if you’re concerned about it, feel free to take out one more loaf. You can always bring it home for dinner if we don’t end up using it,” she told him. “We have plenty of the stuff; I bought about twenty pounds of zucchini last year, and what I didn’t make into soup, I made into bread and froze.”

  As she walked out of the kitchen, she did her best to push the incident out of her mind. It was a nice day, the sun was shining, and she had a date to look forward to tomorrow night.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “I can’t believe that you didn’t tell me.” Candice bounced on the balls of her feet, her excitement overcoming any annoyance she might have felt for being out of the loop. Moira grinned at her, and then half turned, trying to look at herself in the mirror. She was wearing black slacks that somehow miraculously still fit her, even though they had been sitting in her closet for who knew how long, and a loose red blouse. Her hair was pulled up in a fancy sort of bun that Candice had managed to create in only a few minutes.

  “I did tell you,” she pointed out to her daughter. “I just waited a little bit. It’s not like you tell me every time you go out on a date.”

  “True,” the young woman replied. “But I go out on dates all the time. You go out so rarely that it should be considered a national holiday.”

  “Oh, hush,” she told Candice fondly. “Just tell me if my outfit looks okay.”

  “You look great, Mom.” They embraced, Moira feeling younger than her years and more excited than she had thought she would be. It wasn’t like she hadn’t gone out to eat with David before, but that had always been last minute and out of necessity when they were both hungry, or when he had stopped by for lunch at the deli. Going out together for a dinner that they both acknowledged was a date would be different. She only hoped that things weren’t awkward between them. She cherished the easy friendship that they had built over the past few months.

  “I think he’s here,” her daughter said a moment later, peering out the window. “You’ve got to tell me everything when you get back. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

  She met David at the door, taking the arm that he offered her as she navigated the icy walkway. The temperature was dropping rapidly, and everything that had melted during the last few days was refreezing. She was glad that David would be driving instead of her, and doubly glad that they didn’t have far to go. They pulled up at the Redwood Grill, the new restaurant that had opened in town not long ago. It was a gorgeous steakhouse that had amazing—if a bit pricey—food. Moira knew the owner personally. In fact, Denise stopped in at the deli a couple of times a week to chat with her. They were the only two female restaurant owners in town, and had formed a sort of automatic friendship. She was also sure that the lack of direct competition between their businesses helped them maintain that friendship.

  “You look gorgeous,” David told her as he opened the passenger side door for her. They had both been unusually quiet on the car ride over, and Moira was beginning to envy her daughter’s easy-going attitude when it came to dating. She really was pretty out of practice.

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling up at him. “You look pretty nice yourself.” It was true, he had obviously put effort into his wardrobe. He usually dressed stylishly, openly favoring a clichéd private investigator look. Tonight, however, he was wearing a dress shirt and neatly pressed black pants. He smelled nice too, like soap and cologne.

  “I hope it’s all right that we came here,” he added as they walked towards the restaurant’s entranceway. “I know that you and Candice frequent this place, but it’s the nicest place around and I didn’t think it would be a good idea to drive too far with the roads like this.”

  “I love this place,” she assured him. “I could eat here every night and not get tired of it.”

  The hostess seated them quickly, taking them back to the same booth that Moira and her daughter had sat in on the grill’s opening night. It had become their regular table, and the hostess gave her a quick grin of recognition, raising a discreet eyebrow as she glanced at David. The deli owner felt a faint blush rise on her cheeks. She hadn’t thought of the fact that since everyone who worked at the grill knew her, her date with the private investigator would soon be the talk of the town.

  A few minutes later, the two of them were sipping wine and beginning to talk comfortably again. Moira was relieved that the awkwardness had faded quickly. She was still concerned about the date affecting their friendship, but at least they were having fun.

  “Do you know if that guy from the toy store ever contacted Candice?” she asked him once they had both put their menus down.

  “No, as far as I know, he’s still out of town.” A frown flitted across David’s face. “It’s odd. I’ve known him for years, and he’s always told me if he’s planning on going on a trip. He does have a cabin up north, but I don’t know why he wouldn’t be returning my calls.”

  “Are you worried about him?”

  “I am a little concerned,” he admitted. “But his granddaughter keeps telling me that he’s fine, so I guess there’s nothing I can do.”

  “I hope everything is all right, both for them and for my daughter. She really likes the place.”

  “I know.” His face relaxed into a smile. “I don’t think he’ll keep her waiting too much longer. How are all of the plans for the candy shop coming?”

  “From what I’ve seen, she and Adrian have been making a ton of progress.” She chuckled. “I have to admit; I don’t understand half of what they’re saying. I hired people to help me get the deli running, but those two are doing most of it by themselves.”

  “You must be proud of her,” he said.

  “Oh, I am. Proud and worried. I know she’s smart and capable of running a store, but there’s just so much that can go wrong, and she’s going to be putting a lot of money into it.” She took another sip of wine, and was casting around for something else to talk about when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. Shooting David an apologetic glance, she pulled it out and glanced at the screen. When she saw the caller ID, she felt her blood turn to ice.

  “Hello?” she said, pressing the phone to her ear.

  “Ms. Darling, this is Trish at the Maple Creek Police Department. We need you to come down to the station for us as soon as possible.”

  “Why?” Moira said, her voice sounding hollow. David was gazing at her with concern in his blue eyes.

  “There’s been a death, and we need you to identify the body.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As David drove her to the police station, an uncomfortable silence once again fell over them. All Moira could do was keep repeating to herself, It’s not Candice, it’s not Candice. That had been the first thing out of her mouth to the woman from the police station. Her daughter was fine, which was the important thing, but the name that they had given her instead was nearly as bad. When they got there, she saw that the small building was busy for so late at night. Detective Jefferson met her and David at the door.

  “Right this way,” he said, leading them both back down familiar hallways to one of the more comfortable interview rooms. “Normally we wouldn’t do this, but he had you as his emergency contact in his phone. We couldn’t find any family to contact.” The detective sighed and put a blue folder down on the coffee table in the center of the room. “
I’m really sorry to ask this of you.” He looked between the two of them. “Whenever you’re ready.” Moira took a deep breath, traded a glance with David, and then opened the folder.

  “It’s not him,” she gasped, feeling relief course through her. “It’s not Dante.” Horror was close on the heels of her relief though, as the grisly scene in the photos registered in her brain. The body was someone that she recognized, but thankfully not someone that she knew. Instead of Dante’s familiar face, she saw the empty gaze of the young man that had come into the store a few days ago, the one who had seemed so familiar at the time. The similarities between him and Dante were now obvious, and she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t made the connection before. Trying to ignore the bloodstained carpet under the boy in the photo, she handed it over to David so he could get a closer look.

  “What happened?” she asked, turning back to Jefferson. “Where’s Dante?”

  “If that’s not him, then we don’t know. But it doesn’t look good,” he said grimly. “We got a call from Dante’s neighbor earlier today, a complaint about a gunshot. When we got there, we found him.” He nodded at the blue folder in David’s hands. “He matched the description of the resident, so we thought it must be Dante. But if you’re sure that it isn’t, well, that means we have more questions than before, and fewer answers.”

  “This is so terrible. Do you think that there’s any chance that Dante’s okay?” she asked.

  “I honestly don’t know what to tell you, Ms. Darling. We don’t know what’s going on here, and we don’t know yet whether we should be considering Dante to be a possible victim, or a suspect.” He rubbed his hand across his face, looking weary. “Anything you can tell us about him will be helpful. We don’t have much to go on right now. How long has he worked for you?”

  “Just a couple of months,” Moira said. He had worked for her since shortly after she’d lost another employee . “I’m sorry to say I don’t really know him that well. He’s a very private person, but I never got the feeling that he was dangerous. He’s been nothing but helpful at the deli, and I’ve been able to rely on him to show up on time and put a hundred and one percent into his work.”

  “Do you know where he moved here from?” the detective asked.

  “No, I don’t,” she admitted. “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” he told her. “We’re just trying to get a feel for him right now. Do you know of any family or friends that he might have been in contact with?”

  “Other than my other employees, whom he was friendly with, no,” she said. “Like I said, he was a private guy.”

  “All right. If you do think of anything else, don’t hesitate to give me a call.” He stood up and gave her a sympathetic grimace. “It’s getting late, so I’ll let you two get going. If you hear from Dante, or see him, please let me know immediately.”

  “I will,” she promised.

  Still feeling shaky, she got up and followed the detective back down the hallway. David trailed behind them, handing the blue folder back to the detective before gently guiding Moira out of the police station and into the chilly car.

  “I’ll take you home,” he said as he started the engine. “I’m sorry about Dante. I hope he’s all right.”

  “Me too. I’m really worried about him.” She hesitated. “What do you think happened?”

  “Well, if I didn’t know him—and you—I’d say that it looks like he killed that boy and then took off.”

  “But you do know him,” she pointed out. “You don’t really think that he would do that… do you?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” he said. “You can see what things look like, Moira. What do you think happened? That the other guy showed up at Dante’s apartment and then shot himself in the chest?” Remembering the gruesome image in the blue folder, the deli owner shuddered.

  “Well, no,” she said. “I know that isn’t very likely. But even if Dante did shoot him, couldn’t it have been in self-defense? What if the guy attacked him?”

  “If he was justified in shooting him, then why would he run?” David asked.

  “Because he’s probably scared,” Moira said quietly. “He’s just a kid. He doesn’t have any family in town. I mean, he put me as his emergency contact. He obviously doesn’t have anyone he can go to for help.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” the private investigator said. “I’m not saying I’m convinced that he murdered that guy, but we have to be prepared for the possibility that he’s guilty.” He paused, keeping his eyes on the road. “There is another possibility, you know.”

  “What?” she asked, feeling ill. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to hear more.

  “What if there was a third person there? Maybe this third person and the dead guy were working together, maybe not, but I can’t imagine that it bodes well for Dante either way. This could be a kidnapping gone wrong, or maybe some sort of old family feud. I think you should prepare yourself for the possibility that he might not be alive,” he said.

  Moira was silent, at a loss for what to say. When she had gotten the phone call earlier at the restaurant, she had gone into the police station expecting to identify her employee’s body. The relief that she had felt when it wasn’t had been unparalleled. She didn’t want to think that the next time she went in, it might actually be him.

  “I don’t want to just give up on him,” she said at last. They were driving slowly through town, the orange streetlights reflecting off of the icy sidewalks. Something occurred to her. “Did Detective Jefferson say anything about whether Dante’s car was still in the parking lot?” she asked. “If it is, then that might mean that he has been kidnapped and maybe they could put out some sort of alert.”

  “I don’t think he said anything about it,” he told her. “But even if his car is there, he could have fled on foot. Or if he was working with someone, they might have given him a ride.”

  “Can we go check?” she asked, convinced that seeing the scene of the crime would help her put things together. “We could just drive through the parking lot. I know what his car looks like. The apartment complex is only a few minutes away.”

  “All right,” David agreed, giving her a quick, unreadable look. “We’ll just drive through and see if the car is there. But after that, I think we should just let the police do their jobs. And you should keep an eye out for him. You’re one of the few people that he knows in town; if he needs help, he’ll likely try to contact you, Candice, or Darrin. And just keep in mind, we don’t know yet whether he is guilty or innocent.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  They drove through the parking lot twice, and Moira kept her eyes peeled for her employee’s car. She saw it parked in the deli’s lot most days, and was certain that she wouldn’t have trouble spotting it if it was there. She didn’t know whether the fact that the car was gone was good or bad. She supposed that it meant it was more likely that Dante was alive, but it also made it seem more likely that he was guilty of killing the young man who had been shot in his apartment.

  “Thanks,” she said to David when they pulled into her driveway. It was late, but her mind was racing too quickly for her to feel very tired. “And I’m sorry that our date ended the way that it did.”

  “We can try it again sometime,” he said, giving her a quick smile to reassure her that he wasn’t upset. “After we find your missing employee.” A light in her house flickered on, and Moira knew that it meant that her daughter was still up, waiting to hear a report of the date. She wasn’t looking forward to the ensuing conversation; Candice would be worried about Dante, and would ask her mother many questions that she just didn’t have the answers to.

  “I really hope he’s okay.” She sighed. “I’d better go in and get this over with.”

  “Good luck. Do you want me to stop by the deli tomorrow? I’ll see if I can dig anything up on Dante, or at least get some leads as to who the dead guy is,” he offered.

  “Sure.” Despite herself, she found a small smile tugg
ing at the corners of her lips. Somehow David still wanted to be around her, even though trouble seemed to follow her like a hungry dog. “See you tomorrow.”

  She let herself out of the car and walked the short distance to her porch. As soon as her foot touched the first step to the porch, her front door opened and Candice stood silhouetted against the warm glow from inside. She rushed her mother inside, her eyes gleaming as she eagerly waited to hear Moira’s story of the date. Her expectant expression faded slowly as she got a better look at her mother’s face.

  “Oh, no,” she said. “What happened?”

  Moira told her daughter the story over a mug of hot chocolate. Her brightly painted kitchen seemed far too cheery for such a grim tale. She was purposely vague when she described the photograph, not wanting to have to go into grisly detail.

  “I don’t even know what to say,” Candice said when she was done. “I mean, I’m glad that Dante isn’t the one who got shot, but… it’s almost worse if he’s the one that killed the other guy, you know?”

  “Do you really think that Dante would murder someone?” she asked her daughter. She had been trying to assume the best of her missing employee, but both David and her daughter seemed ready to throw him under the bus, so to speak.

  “Not really, but neither of us has been too great at spotting killers recently,” the young woman said pointedly. Moira frowned, hurt. She’d met several killers in the past few months and hated remembering their crimes; she hadn’t ever felt so betrayed by anyone before, not even when she had found out that her husband was cheating on her. She didn’t want to let the experience damage her trust in people’s good nature, but maybe her daughter and David had a point. Most of the time, the simplest solution was the right one. When you start out with two young men, and one is found dead and the other is missing, there was only one probable answer.