Thai Coconut Murder: Book 6 in The Darling Deli Series Page 2

  “That sounds nice,” the deli owner said. “I would probably be doing something similar, if David hadn’t asked me out. I thought about bringing Maverick to the beach, but it’s probably best to leave him at home. He doesn’t seem to like loud noises much, and I wouldn’t want him to be scared.”

  “That’s probably a good idea. This way you won’t have to worry about him; you can just enjoy your evening with David.” Her friend sighed. “You’re so lucky. I’m pretty sure you’re dating the only eligible guy for miles around.”

  “We’ve only gone out on a couple of dates, and something always seems to go wrong.” Moira grimaced. “I’m surprised that he asked me out again. He must think I’m a magnet for bad luck.”

  “At least you aren’t boring,” Martha said with a laugh.

  “I’m boring most of the time.” Moira couldn’t help but chuckle; her friend did have a point. David lived for mystery, and there had definitely been enough weird occurrences popping up around her to make things interesting. “I should be going; I need to change before heading to Lake Marion, and David will be expecting me soon. He wants to get a good spot on the beach.”

  “Have a good time, and don’t forget to say hi to your private investigator for me,” Martha said, grinning.

  She met David at his office, and they drove over to the lake together. He had a wicker picnic basket in the back, along with a blanket and what looked like a couple of folding chairs. It had been a while since she had done more than just watch the fireworks from her backyard; once Candice hit her teen years, she had been more interested in doing things with her friends than with her mom, and that included watching the local firework shows.

  The beach was already crowded when they got there. Couples walked hand in hand along the paths, children laughed and screamed as they ran around in the fading light, and the smell of sizzling hot dogs filled the air. Tourist season was in full swing, and even such a small town as Lake Marion got its fair share of out-of-towners on holidays like this.

  Doing her best not to be tempted by the deep-fried foods sold from the food carts lined up in the parking lot, Moira helped David unpack the car. She took the chairs while he hoisted the basket and the blanket. They made their way down the path and onto the sand. It was clean and white, and she found herself wishing that she had worn sandals so she could curl her toes in it.

  The spot they found was only a few yards above the waterline, close enough that no one would be able to sit in front of them and block their view, but far enough back that they wouldn’t have to worry about stray waves soaking them. They spread out the blanket, set up the chairs, then took their seats with the picnic basket between them. She smiled over at David, feeling warm and happy. This was turning out to be the perfect summer evening.

  While they waited for it to get dark enough for the fireworks, and the beach filled up behind them, they snacked on the sandwiches and string cheese that David had brought. She didn’t see anyone she knew, but a few people came up to greet David and see how he was doing. He introduced Moira, being sure to tell everyone about her deli. When a few people promised to stop by and check it out the next time that they drove to Maple Creek, she gave David a quick smile of gratitude. She just might end this evening with a few new customers.

  Gradually, night fell. A few boats floated just off the shore, visible only by the lights on their prows. Moira knew that one of them would be from the fire department, ready to pump water directly from the lake if there was a fire.

  People began to fall silent in expectation as lights appeared on the opposite shore where the fireworks would be set off. She looked up, and saw out of the corner of her eye that David, too, had his face tilted up towards the sky.

  The first firework was lit, and the entire beach hushed as it rushed up into the sky. When it exploded in a shower of red and gold sparks, people whooped and clapped. Grinning, she leaned back, her arm brushing against David’s, and settled in to enjoy the show. After a few moments, his hand found hers and clasped it gently as the fireworks exploded above them.

  After the grand finale burst above them, people gave one last round of applause and began to pack up their things. The people who had watched from boats rowed their way towards shore and, when they could go no further, hopped out and sloshed the rest of the way up onto the beach. Moira rose and stretched, glad that David had brought chairs so they hadn’t been forced to sit on the ground. She had reached the age where sitting cross-legged in the sand just wasn’t comfortable any more.

  She was just reaching for one of the canvas bags to pack the chair when an earsplitting scream pierced the air. Whipping her head around, she saw a commotion near one of the little rowboats that had come to shore near a submerged tree. When more people began screaming, she traded a glance with David. What could be going on?

  “I’ll go check it out,” he told her. “You wait here.”

  “But what if someone needs help?” she asked, concerned.

  “There’s already too many people crowding that area; if someone is hurt, they’ll need their space,” he pointed out. “Plus, I need you to watch our stuff.”

  “Okay,” Moira said, knowing that he was right. She wouldn’t be much help in an emergency, and would probably just get in the way of anyone who might actually know how to help. The last thing she wanted to do was contribute to the chaos that was already starting to spread over by the boat. “I’ll start packing up.”

  She watched as David walked over to the crowd of people that had gathered around the boat and the submerged tree, a frown pulling her lips down. What on earth could be going on? She heard the sound of someone retching, and then a woman started sobbing. She felt chilled. Something was definitely wrong.

  When David pushed his way through the crowd and she lost sight of him, she turned her attention to packing up the blanket and chairs. She had just finished fitting the canvas bag around the second chair when red and blue flashing lights lit up the beach and police began to split the crowd up. She watched as people began to walk away, some of them hanging back at a distance to watch what was happening, and others heading straight for their cars. After a few seconds, only a few people remained by the rowboat and the submerged tree; a pair of uniformed police officers, the couple that had been in the boat, and David. She also saw an oblong shape on the ground, half in the water, that looked like it might be a person… but why would they just be lying there like that? Why wouldn’t someone have helped them out of the water?

  Feeling helpless, Moira dragged the picnic basket, blanket, and chairs over to a tree and leaned against it while she waited for the private investigator to return. A few minutes later, David walked away from the officers and headed towards her, his face grim.

  “What happened?” she asked, dreading his answer, but needing to know.

  “They found a body,” he said. “The body of someone who looks like he’s been in the lake for months.”

  Moira shuddered at the thought, and was immensely glad that she and David hadn’t been sitting over there. The private investigator opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but sighed instead.

  “Come on,” he said, “I should get you back to the car.” She followed him, a chair tucked under one arm, and the blanket under the other.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Even through the next day, Moira was still shaken by the thought of the body that had been found. It wasn’t until Wednesday morning that she finally had something else to think about: her coffee get-together with Denise and Martha. She enjoyed the casual weekly meetings with her friends a great deal; it seemed like most of her friends from childhood had moved away as their children grew up and went off to college. She was gradually rebuilding her social circle, and it was a nice feeling.

  She would have to go straight from coffee to the deli, so she took a few extra minutes to make sure that she had everything she would need for the day. After a quick goodbye pat for Maverick, she grabbed her keys off the car and locked up. Tomorrow she wasn’t scheduled to go into the deli at all, but today would be busy.

  “Moira, we ordered you your usual,” Denise said, waving at her from a table in the back corner of the little coffee shop. The owner of the Redwood Grill had pulled back her dark red hair into a tight bun and was wearing a sharp pantsuit that couldn’t have differed more from Moira’s relaxed khakis and blouse. Martha was sitting next to her, twirling a strand of her mousy brown hair around her finger as she read something on her phone.

  “Thanks.” The deli owner slipped into the empty chair and picked up the caramel cappuccino, taking a sip of the sweet, foamy drink. “Just what I needed.”

  “So,” Martha said, setting her phone down and leaning forward eagerly. “How was your date?”

  “Well…” Moira sighed. “It started off just wonderfully. But when the fireworks ended, something horrible happened.”

  “What happened?” Denise asked, looking concerned. “Did you find out that he’s married or something?”

  “What? No.” Moira gave her friend an odd look. “No, nothing like that. No, two people in a canoe found a body.” Both women gasped.

  “Did someone drown during the fireworks?” Martha asked.

  “I don’t think so,” she replied. “David said that it looked like the body had been there a while.” She grimaced, not wanting to think about the condition it must have been in when the young couple had found it.

  “That’s horrible,” Denise said. “Do you know who it was?”

  “No, but I’m sure it will be in the papers soon. I just feel bad that David had to see it in person. He went over and helped keep people away from the body while someone else called the cops.”

  “At least you didn’t have to see anything.” Both of her friends shuddered. “You lead quite the life, Moira.”

  “You don’t have to remind me,” she said with a groan. “Another date, ruined. I’m never going to have any sort of romantic life if this keeps up. Men will be running for the hills after just a few dates.”

  “Well, David hasn’t run for the hills yet, has he?” Martha asked.

  “As far as I know he hasn’t, but I haven’t actually heard from him since Monday night. He seemed pretty shaken by the body,” she admitted.

  “I’m sure he’s just busy.” The two women traded a glance, and seemed to reach a mutual decision to change the subject.

  They talked about Denise next, though the subject of her husband was always touchy.

  “I know he cheats on me,” she said simply. “But what can I do about it? He knows I know, and he doesn’t care.”

  “Have you tried marriage counseling?” Martha asked. “I’ve heard a lot of people say it helps.”

  “When would we have time to go?” the other woman said. “We both run restaurants. Right now we aren’t even living together. Having our own places near the restaurants is easier than driving back and forth whenever there’s a problem.” She gave a rueful throaty chuckle. “It’s true that we’re both married to our jobs.”

  “How is the Grill doing, by the way?” Moira asked. She thought that the steakhouse had superb food and was always impressed by how polite and helpful the wait staff was; she couldn’t imagine that it was doing poorly.

  “Oh, we’re thriving,” Denise said. “I have no regrets about moving here; business is great and, for the most part, people are nice.”

  “Going to the Grill makes me want to open a real restaurant,” Moira admitted. “Not that I don’t love the deli, but it would be fun to come up with a whole menu instead of just daily specials.”

  “Parts of it are definitely fun,” Denise agreed. “But dealing with stressed out cooks, late deliveries, and the drama that comes with having over twenty staff members… well, you should be glad that you can skip all of that. I envy you your little deli. You have amazing food, nice customers, and a good group of employees.”

  “They are,” she agreed. “Or, at least Dante and Darrin are. I don’t know Meg that well yet, but she seems like she’ll fit in well. And of course it’s nice to work with Candice, but she’ll be leaving as soon as she finds the right place for her candy shop.”

  “Meg’s the one I met last week, isn’t she?” Martha asked. “How is she doing?”

  “She’s a quick learner,” Moira said. “She’s a lot more outgoing than Dante is, which is nice, but she sometimes gets overenthusiastic and forgets to do something. I think once she’s more familiar with the routines at the deli she’ll be amazing; she just needs to slow down a little bit and make sure she isn’t missing a step.”

  “You’re lucky,” Denise said with a chuckle. “I just had to fire someone for stealing twenty pounds of hamburger meat. What does a nineteen-year-old girl need with twenty pounds of grass-fed organic hamburger meat?”

  “Yikes,” the deli owner replied. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with anything like that.” Belatedly, she remembered her employee who had been arrested for murder last winter. She would rather deal with thieves than murderers any day.

  She got to the deli just in time to catch the tail end of the breakfast rush. Candice and Meg were on duty, and she was pleased to see the two girls chatting like old friends as they tidied up the small dining area.

  “Hi, Mom,” Candice said as she walked in. “How was coffee?”

  “It was nice to catch up with Martha and Denise,” she said. “But I feel jittery now—I think I drank too much caffeine on an empty stomach.”

  “Oh, we saved you a quiche,” Meg chimed in. “It’s in the back. I’ll go get it.”

  She vanished into the kitchen, then reappeared a second later with a bite-sized quiche on a small plate. Moira took it gratefully, and bit into it. The rich flavor of garlic and onions burst in her mouth, along with the unmistakable taste of mushrooms, all lightly enhanced with the occasional melty bleu cheese crumble.

  “Wow,” she said, swallowing. “This is amazing. Did Dante stop in?” Dante was their resident quiche expert; he had spent a few days giving them each all a crash course in how to make them, but he was still the best at it.

  “No, but he left a recipe. It was Meg’s idea to add the bleu cheese, though. We saw that there was only a little bit left from when we made the sandwiches on the Fourth of July, so we decided to use it up,” Candice said.

  “Great call,” Moira said, turning to Meg. She gave the girl an appraising look. With any luck, she would turn out to be a natural chef. “Let me know if you have any more ideas. I’m always happy to hear suggestions.”

  She finished the quiche, which wasn’t quite big enough to be filling, but at least put something in her stomach other than caffeine-rich coffee. She didn’t need to eat big meals three times a day anyway. Since the extended hours had started, she had put on a few extra pounds. With less time to cook at home, she found herself often eating multiple meals at the deli every day, and she usually ate dinner one night a week at the Redwood Grill with either David or Candice, and would share a quick dessert with Denise if her friend had time. The extra food, combined with less time to go on walks, wasn’t doing her any favors. I’ll just have a salad for lunch, she promised herself.

  If only I had more free time, I would exercise more… maybe even join a gym, she told herself. But as things are now, I’m just to exhausted by the end of the day to think about eating right or going on a jog. Poor Maverick is lucky if he gets to do more than just go around the block with me when I get home. At least she had tomorrow off. She made a mental note to use the time to stock up on healthy food and take the German shepherd to the park for a game of fetch.

  Today, though, she had work to do. With only an hour until they were supposed to start serving lunch, she was already behind. She had a special dish planned for today, and was eager to see how her customers liked it—but first, she had to cook it.

  She heated a dutch oven and swirled a small amount of coconut oil around in it. Once the oil was melted, she added sliced mushrooms, red bell pepper, minced fresh ginger, fresh garlic cloves, and stalks of lemongrass. Soon exotic scents were swirling around the kitchen, and she thought that she might have to go back on the promise that she had made herself earlier. Maybe she would have a small bowl of this spicy Thai coconut soup alongside that salad.

  Once the vegetables began to cook, she poured in the chicken broth and coconut milk, and added a spoonful of chili paste for some kick. As that slowly heated up to a simmer, she dug around in the pantry for one of her more rarely used sauces. She found the fish sauce in the very back, against the wall. She wasn’t usually a fan of the odd-smelling liquid, but it would go perfectly with the Asian-themed soup. A quick dash of the sauce, a sprinkle of sugar, and the soup was finished.

  Not giving in to the temptation of sneaking a taste, Moira got to work on preparing ingredients for the sandwiches. The chicken breasts that she had cooked the night before came out of the refrigerator, and she took her time carefully carving thin slices from each one. Next, she made sure that the bean sprouts were washed, and in an easily accessible bowl in the front of the fridge. The sauce was easy—a simple mixture of fish sauce and chili paste, with just a dash of sugar. Hands on hips, the deli owner surveyed the kitchen, running through a mental checklist as she double-checked that everything was in easy reach for her employees. All she needed to do was slice the milk bread, and then her part of the food preparation would be done—from the busy sounds coming from the front of the deli, just in time, too.

  When she slipped through the swinging door from the kitchen to the main part of the deli, she was surprised to see David sitting at a table in the corner near the window. He was gazing outside, with dark circles under his eyes.

  “I was just coming back to tell you,” Meg said, following her gaze towards the private investigator. “He wanted to know if you would eat lunch with him.”