Gazpacho Murder Read online

  “The last thing I need right now is another dog,” her friend replied with a laugh. “Maybe one day in the future, when I work less.”

  Moira followed Martha into the kitchen, where a cheerful looking Denise was already setting up the food. Moira was surprised – in light of everything that happened with Martha recently, she had expected Denise to be just as worried as the two of them were.

  “I brought a few different dishes, I wasn’t sure what everyone wanted. There’s Chicken Cordon Bleu, one of our best steaks, and cedar grilled salmon. I figured we could all share a little bit of each dish. I also brought a couple of sides.”

  “I have a nice red wine and a variety pack of cookies from the grocery store,” Moira said. “I would’ve made them myself, but I didn’t have time.”

  “To be fair, I didn’t make any of this myself either,” Denise said. “Julian did.”

  The deli owner raised her eyebrows at the casual mention of her friend’s nemesis chef, but didn’t say anything. If Denise’s relationship with Julian was getting better, that could only be good. Moira couldn’t imagine how stressful it would be to work with someone that she didn’t like.

  The three of them sat down for the meal, the conversation petering out as they started on the food. Moira savored each bite. There was no denying that Julian was a gifted chef. She could whip up a good soup at the drop of a hat, but when it came to entrées like this, her skill was no match.

  After the meal, the three of them retreated to the living room. Here, the companionable silence took on a different tone. There was a light spot on the carpet where the professional cleaners had bleached it to remove the stains. The room still smelled strongly of cleaner. Moira shivered. She had no desire to spend more time than necessary in this room. Her friends seemed to share her feeling.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” Martha said. “I’ve been meaning to go through my things anyway. I want to see if anything important is missing.”

  “Would they have had time to take anything on Sunday?” Denise asked. “By the sound of it, they weren’t in here for very long.”

  “I don’t know about Sunday, but this has been going on for a few weeks. I just thought that I was misplacing things, but there’s every chance that they were stolen instead.”

  They spent the next hour drinking wine, eating cookies, and helping Martha sort through her jewelry. She had been left quite a few valuable items by her sister when she had passed away; pretty necklaces and bracelets that she hardly ever wore, but kept for their sentimental value.

  It took her quite a while to sort through everything thoroughly enough to figure out what was missing, but at last a frown appeared on her face. “There is a bracelet missing,” she said. “As well as a couple of rings. They didn’t fit me, so I never wore them, but I’m sure I left them in this drawer right here.”

  “You should make a police report,” Moira suggested. “That way they’ll know what to look for, and they may even be able to contact local pawn shops to see if anything has been sold to them.”

  “I’ll call them first thing in the morning,” her friend said. “I’m sadder about the bracelet than the rings. It was my sister’s favorite. Look, she’s wearing in this picture.”

  She got up and pulled a framed photograph off of her dresser. It was of her and her older sister, Emilia. There was a beautiful gold chain around her sister’s wrist, decorated with a few delicate charms. Moira could tell that it had a lot of emotional value for her friend.

  “If whoever took it tries to sell it, you might be able to get it back,” she said.

  “Maybe,” her friend said doubtfully. “I’d have to be pretty lucky if that was the case.” She gazed mournfully at the photo for a long moment, then set it back on top of the dresser. “Enough about all of this sad stuff. I want to do something happy. Would you and David want to go on a double date with me and Dominic? We could go to the grill, maybe Saturday night.”

  “I’d have to talk to David about it, but I don’t see why we wouldn’t be able to,” Moira said. “Do you want to come too, Denise?”

  “I’ll see you there, but I’ll be working,” the Denise said. “Besides, it would be awkward to be the fifth wheel.”

  “You need to find yourself a boyfriend,” Martha said in a forced cheery tone. “Maybe that will be my next project; finding someone for you to date.”

  “Don’t be silly, I don’t have time to date,” Denise said. “Besides, it’s already hard enough to run a restaurant and try to figure out how to get my nephew out of prison. Men are a complication that I just don’t need right now.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  * * *

  Moira was back at the deli the next day, once again surprised at how quickly life returned to normal even after a disaster. After having missed so much work that week so that she could help her friend, it felt very good to be back in the familiar little restaurant.

  She got to work early, wanting an extra couple of hours to prepare the lunch special while her employees finished up the breakfast rush. She had spent plenty of time the last couple of days surfing the Internet looking at recipes, and was chock full of ideas that she wanted to try.

  It was a warm day, so she decided to go with a cold soup, which would need to chill for a couple of hours before being ready to serve. She had never made gazpacho before, and was looking forward to trying something new, even if it did mean she would have to clean the food processor later — something that she hated doing.

  Claiming a small section of the counter for herself while Darrin bustled about making crepes, she began the routine process of chopping the vegetables. Tomatoes, cucumbers, garlic, onions, sweet peppers, and fresh herbs; it seemed as if this soup called for just about everything but the kitchen sink.

  Once the vegetables were diced to her satisfaction, she dumped the lot into the food processor and began measuring out the liquid ingredients. Tomato juice, sugar, and a dash of lemon juice – everything in this soup was something that any good kitchen would have in stock. It was surprisingly easy to make, and she was glad that she had stumbled across the recipe online. It would be a good meal to make at home on one of those days when she needed to make something without going to the store. She almost always had most of these ingredients in her own kitchen. It would be perfect for a light lunch during the summer, if only she could convince David to enjoy a meal without any meat.

  She ran the food processor until she judged that the soup was at the right consistency, then poured it into a large bowl to chill in the fridge. The difficult part done, it was time to turn her attention to the sandwiches. Each sandwich would be freshly made, but she would pre-slice the bread, deli meats, and cheese to make it easier for her employees to fill orders quickly.

  She decided that she wanted the sandwich of the day to be something simple, yet tasty. Black forest ham on hearty whole-wheat bread made by a local bakery with muenster cheese and brown mustard — about as easy as it could get, but sure to be delicious, especially if dipped in the cold soup.

  By the time she had sliced the loaf of bread and had a platter of the deli meat and cheese laid out, it was nearly lunch time and she felt the first stirrings of hunger. Knowing that she wouldn’t have much time once her shift officially started, she decided to take an early lunch and sample the food that she had made.

  She was very pleased with the results. The different ingredients in the soup mixed well together, yet each ingredient also managed to stand out on its own. The simple flavors of the sandwich were the perfect counterpoint to the complexity of the soup, and she was left feeling satisfied, but not overly full – a very good thing considering that she had to have the energy to work for the next seven hours.

  She was just finishing her meal when Allison arrived to begin her shift. They almost always had two people working the afternoon shifts because it was the busier time of day. One person could usually handle the morning hours on their own, since most of their breakfast guests were people stopping in for a
quick cup of coffee and a breakfast cookie before heading to work or school. It was later in the day that the deli began to fill up with patrons looking to sit down for a pleasant lunch together, and sit-down customers always meant tables to clean and more orders to fill as they came back for seconds.

  “Hi, Ms. D.,” Allison said as she hung her purse on the hook. “How is everything going? I haven’t heard from Candice much recently.”

  Candice and Allison were good friends, and looked almost as if they could be sisters. Allison had been a bridesmaid at Candice’s wedding, and had been there for Candice after the loss of the candy shop. Moira knew the young woman must be missing her friend quite a bit, and felt a pang at the reminder of her daughter’s absence.

  “She’s doing as well as can be expected,” Moira said. “She hasn’t told me yet when she plans to come back.”

  “Me either. All I know is that the insurance company agreed to give her the money for the candy shop, but I don’t know if she’s planning on rebuilding it or not.” The young woman sighed. “Everything was going so well. I wish we could go back in time and stop the shop from being burned down and keep Eli from getting hurt.”

  “Me too,” the deli owner said. “It’s difficult, but I suppose we just have to have faith that things will turn out okay in the end. I hope Eli continues to recover well. I miss them both.”

  “I hate driving past the place where Candice’s Candies used to be,” Allison admitted. “It’s so creepy, to see the building all blackened and empty. Do you think they’ll tear it down soon?”

  “I have no idea. It probably depends on what Candice decides to do with it. I’m sure she’s more concerned with Eli right now than the store.”

  “Of course. I’m going to try to go and visit them next time I have a day off. Anyway, I’d better get to work and let Darrin head home.”

  Moira spent most of her shift working in the kitchen — her favorite place to be in the deli. She enjoyed interacting with her customers as well, of course, but cooking was her true passion. She didn’t even mind the cleaning that came along with kitchen duty. She washed the dishes as Allison brought them in, and lined them up in the drying rack over the sink, feeling the satisfaction of a job well done with each of them.

  She had just begun tidying up for the evening when Allison slipped through the door that led to the dining area and caught her eye. “Sorry, but there’s a lady out here who’s wondering if we’re hiring. What should I tell her?”

  The deli owner considered the question. “If she can wait for a few minutes, I’ll come out and talk to her myself. We aren’t officially hiring at the moment, but it never hurts to have some help lined up in case we get busier around the holidays.”

  She finished scrubbing the food processor, carefully reassembling the blades before grabbing her purse and going out front to meet the prospective employee — the last thing that she had to do before going home that evening. When she saw the young woman sitting with a young man who could be her twin at the table near the window, she recognized her as a semi-regular customer, someone who came in every once in a while, but not often enough for Moira to know her name.

  “Moira Darling,” she said, shaking the young woman’s hand. “I’m the owner. Allison tells me that you’re interested in working here?”

  “Yes,” the woman said. “My name is Evelyn Bridges. It’s nice to meet you. This is my brother, Sky. He gave me a ride here, but he’ll wait at another table while we talk.”

  It took Moira a moment to figure out why the young woman’s name struck her so strongly. At last, she remembered that it was the name of Martha’s dog walker. So this was the girl who had a key to her friend’s house? With a jolt, she also realized that Evelyn had lost her boyfriend earlier that week. No wonder she looked a bit worn down.

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” she said after a moment, hoping that she had managed to disguise the surprise well enough not to frighten the young woman. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

  “Not at all, it’s your store.” Evelyn gave her a nervous smile. Moira took the seat across from her.

  “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?”

  “Well, I’m eighteen, and I’m still in high school, but I’ll be graduating in the spring. I’m free on weekends and in the afternoons. I don’t have much of a resume, but I’ve worked a few odd jobs for people, and I’d be happy to give you references.”

  “Why do you want to work here in particular?”

  “My boyfriend and I used to come here in the mornings before school sometimes for coffee. He passed away earlier this week, and I guess I thought working here would make me feel closer to him. I also think I would enjoy working with food, and I’m good with people.”

  “I’m sorry, that can’t have been easy,” Moira said. “We aren’t looking for any more help right this second, but if you want to bring back an application with a couple of your references and leave it here, I’ll keep you in mind in case we need holiday help. I’ll go grab you one, hold on.”

  “Thank you,” the young woman said when Moira returned with the paper. She gave her a small smile and stood up. “I’ll stop in later with a resume. Should I just leave it with whoever is at the counter?”

  The deli owner nodded. “Yes, that will be fine. Have a good afternoon, and thanks for stopping in.”

  She watched as Evelyn left the building, feeling her skin prickle with suspicion. Was it pure chance that the young woman had stopped in, or did she somehow know that Moira had been there during the burglary gone wrong? If so, was she hoping to get more information about what had happened to her boyfriend, or were her intentions darker?

  By sheer chance as Evelyn was unlocking her car, the sun peeked out from behind a cloud and glinted off of something shiny and gold on her wrist — a bracelet that the deli owner had been too distracted to notice earlier. She felt her stomach twist. Was that Martha’s missing bracelet?

  By the time she got outside, Evelyn was already pulling out of the parking lot. Moira stared after her car, feeling conflicted and confused. Just how was the young woman tied to the burglaries?

  CHAPTER NINE

  * * *

  After Evelyn left, Moira said goodbye to Allison, who was finishing up the last of the closing tasks, and walked out the front door towards her car. She was planning to stop at the brewery to spend a few minutes with David, who would be there until late that evening, before heading home to take care of the dogs.

  She unlocked her car and tossed her purse on the passenger seat, turning on the engine before reaching for her bag to check her phone for missed calls. At first, when she didn’t feel it in her purse, she thought that it was simply buried under some of the clutter in her bag. She pulled the purse onto her lap and began searching through it in earnest. It took her a few minutes to realize that the phone wasn’t in the bag at all.

  Where did I leave it? she wondered. She could have sworn that she had dropped it in her purse before leaving the kitchen, but maybe she had left it on the counter after all. With a sigh, she got out of the vehicle and hurried back into the restaurant, leaving her car running.

  A quick search of the kitchen convinced her that her phone wasn’t there either. “Hey, Allison?” she said.

  “Yes, Ms. D.?” Her employee paused in the doorway, a full garbage bag in her hand.

  “Can you do me a favor and call my cell phone really quick?”

  Allison put down the bag and pulled out her own phone. She pressed a few buttons, waited, then said, “It’s ringing on my end.”

  Moira listened, but didn’t hear her phone anywhere in the kitchen. It was on vibrate, but it still should have been loud enough to hear in the nearly silent restaurant. She stepped out into the dining area, but still didn’t hear a thing.

  “It went to your voicemail,” her employee said. “Do you want me to try again?”

  “Sure, I’m going to go out to my car and see if it’s there.”

  Growing m
ore concerned, she returned to the car and dumped her purse out on the passenger seat. No phone. Had she done something silly like tossed it in the garbage on accident? Where could it be?

  Evelyn, she thought suddenly. She had had her purse with her when she met with the young woman, and she had foolishly left it on the table when she had gotten up to fetch her an application from the back. That would have left plenty of time for her to snatch the phone out of her purse.

  But why would she want it? Moira wondered. What could Evelyn possibly want with her cell phone? She bit her lip, gazing at the pile of miscellaneous items from her purse. Her cell phone most definitely wasn’t there, and Evelyn was the obvious answer, even if the deli owner couldn’t guess her motive. There was nothing on the phone that the young woman would find useful or interesting, but still, Moira was worried. A lost phone was never a good thing, but it was especially frightening when the phone was in the hands of one of the main suspects for a burglary that had ended so violently.