Ravioli Soup Murder (The Darling Deli Series Book 27) Page 4

  “Well, thank you. I’ll be back as soon as I can be.” He gave her a quick kiss, then grabbed his jacket. “I’ll pick up food on my way back, and we can have lunch together here. Call me to let me know what you want.”

  Then he left. Alone in his office, she leaned back in the comfortable leather seat at the desk and looked around. He had had this business for years. The furniture was worn and comfortable, and there was a bed for Maverick in the corner. She smiled. Even though she would support him if he decided to end this part of his career, she hoped that he found a way to balance both of his passions. To that end, she would help him as much as she could. Maybe one day, she could even get her own private investigator’s license. She would have to look up the requirements again. It had been a while since she had toyed with the idea.

  Thinking of all the cases he had taken over the years made her think once again of Jonathan’s death. It couldn’t be a coincidence that David had been investigating him just a few weeks before he had been killed. What had the case been about again? Adultery? She knew that the police already had the files, but an extra set of eyes couldn’t hurt. They would probably cross-reference the names in his case with the names of the people who had been at the open house, but what if the killer had left before the police arrived? There was a guestbook at the open house, but someone arriving there planning to commit a crime probably wouldn’t have signed it.

  Feeling just a little bit guilty, she crossed the room to the file cabinet and unlocked it with the key David had given her back when she had first started helping him in the office. She always tried to respect his clients’ privacy. While she would never use any information she found in one of the files against someone, it still didn’t feel right to read about it without their consent. A lot of the people he took as his clients, also stopped in at the deli regularly. If their positions were switched, she knew that she would be upset if someone had read her personal information without her knowledge. As David’s assistant, it wouldn’t technically be wrong for her to access these files. She had to, as part of her job. Still, it felt unethical to her to use her position to spy on her fellow townspeople.

  However, in Jonathan’s case it was different. He was dead, and the people involved in the case he had been in might have had something to do with his death. If she ended up finding something that could help the police solve his murder, that couldn’t be wrong, could it?

  She pulled open the file cabinet. Knowing David, he had made copies of all of the files he had given to the police. There was no telling when he might get the originals back.

  She frowned at the myriad of colorful tabs in front of her. Jonathan had been part of a case, but from what David had said, he hadn’t been the client. That meant that his name wouldn’t be on the folder, and she had no idea who the actual client had been. Which also meant she had to go back to the computer to do some digging.

  With a glance at the clock — she wanted to make sure she was ready for the new client that she was supposed to be meeting soon — she settled back into the comfortable chair and woke up the desktop. David also had a laptop that he carried with him, but usually backed everything up to the ancient computer for good measure.

  She waited while the desktop’s fan hummed to life, then logged in. Opening up the folder labeled Cases, Closed she typed Jonathan into the search bar. A couple of files popped up that included the name somewhere in the reports. She scanned through each of them, but none of them involved the right man. Jonathan was too common a name.

  She noticed something about how David tended to record names, and this time typed J. Goodman into the search bar. One file came up, labeled D. Rodgers. The name was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. She double clicked on the file and waited while it loaded.

  The file didn’t hold much information, besides a vague description of the case and a number for the paper file. She memorized it, then went back over to the file cabinet and found it. Taking it out, she read through David’s notes. What she saw made her prickle with apprehension. She knew now why the name had sounded so familiar. The client that had hired David to tail Jonathan to verify a suspected affair with his wife, was their next-door neighbor. She spread the pages out and saw a single photo, which showed a blonde woman walking into Jonathan’s house. It was impossible to tell who it was. The photo was blurry, and had been taken through trees. She thought it likely that even the woman’s husband wouldn’t have been able to tell for sure who she was.

  ***

  “Are you mad at me for looking at the file?” she asked. It was late afternoon, and it was beginning to get dark out. David was driving them home.

  “No, of course not,” he said, shooting her a look. “I just thought you had promised that you would stay out of all this.”

  “I know, and I’m not going to get any more involved. I just thought that I might have recognized the name of your client, and maybe I would’ve remembered seeing them at the open house.”

  “Did you?”

  She frowned, trying to think back. “No, I don’t think so. I know I didn’t see Derek there. I don’t know his wife, Tillie, very well. I may not have recognized her if I did see her.”

  “We’ll just have to let the police do their jobs,” he said. “I know how horrible it must have been to find Jonathan like that.”

  “And to think that one of our other neighbors may be a murderer,” she said. “I was so relieved when I learned that he was moving away. Now, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe at home again.”

  “You will, because Detective Jefferson will catch whoever did this.”

  She smiled over at him. She would just have to have the same faith that he did; that the bad guys would get what was coming to them. Maybe it was easier to believe that. And so far, wasn’t that what had happened? With all of the things that she had gotten dragged into, she always came out okay in the end.

  David turned to pull in to their driveway. As he shut off the engine, she got out and stretched her legs. She was surprised to hear the dogs barking inside. It didn’t sound like the excited barks that they sometimes let escape when she and David had gotten home after being gone for hours. It sounded like they were barking at something.

  “Hold on,” David said, grabbing her arm as she began to walk toward the door. “Do you hear that?”

  She paused and cocked her head to the side. She did hear something. Shouting, coming through the trees. Their neighbors were arguing about something. She couldn’t make out the words, but whatever it was, it sounded serious.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  * * *

  The Redwood Grill was the nicest restaurant in town. It was owned by one of Moira’s best friends; Denise Donovan. As the deli owner walked through the front doors, she was greeted by name by the hostess.

  “Ms. Donovan told me that you were coming in today,” the young woman said. “Your booth is ready.”

  “I’m meeting someone here.”

  “Would you like to wait up front or wait at the booth? I would be happy to send her back to you when she arrives.”

  “I’ll wait at the booth,” Moira said. “Could you let Denise know I’m here? I’d love to talk to her if she has some time.”

  “Of course. Follow me. I’ll send the waitress right out to get your drink order.”

  The hostess led Moira to her usual booth near the back of the restaurant. She began looking over the menu as soon as she sat down. The Grill added new items weekly. Moira had never been disappointed in anything that she had ordered. Denise had two wonderful chefs working for her full-time.

  In fact, last she had heard, her friend had started seeing one of them. Julian was the newest addition to the team in Denise’s kitchen. At first, he and the restaurant owner hadn’t seemed to mesh very well, but over time, they had grown much closer. Moira was eager to hear more about how her friend’s relationship was going. Denise had gotten divorced a while back, and was just now starting to date again.

  “There you are,” her
friend said, approaching the table with a smile.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Moira said, rising to give Denise a hug. “I was so happy to hear about Logan.”

  “It’s wonderful to have him home again,” the other woman said. “And thank you for everything you did to help me out. I’m sorry for sticking you with the fundraiser on such short notice.”

  “It’s the least I could do,” she replied.

  “So, how are things with you?”

  “Why don’t you take a seat? This might take a while.”

  She told Denise about the troubles that she had been having with Jonathan, and his subsequent death. It felt good to have someone to talk to about all of this who wasn’t David. She loved him, but sometimes he was just too close to really give an unbiased opinion on her problems.

  “Do you know if they’ve made any progress in the case?”

  “I don’t have any idea,” she said. “Every time I hear a car drive slowly past my driveway, part of me is afraid that it’s Detective Jefferson, coming to arrest me.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Denise said. “Obviously you didn’t do it, and there will be no evidence that you did. He can’t arrest you just based on the fact that you didn’t like Jonathan. To me, it sounds like your other neighbor did it.”

  “I hope they didn’t,” Moira said. “This whole thing is a mess. This time last week, I was thinking about how slow things were. I wish I could go back to that now.”

  “Don’t let it worry you too much,” Denise said. “Oh, it looks like your friend is here.”

  She rose, making room for Thelma. Moira introduced them.

  “It was nice to meet you,” Denise said. “I should be getting back to the kitchen now. Someone will be out soon to take your orders.”

  After Denise left, Moira turned to the other woman. “I’m glad you wanted to get together. I felt terrible about how things ended up at the open house.”

  “It was horrible, but it wasn’t your fault,” Thelma said. “I just wanted to thank you for all the time you took to help me. Allison says such great things about you, and I just ran off after everything that happened with the police. I wanted to leave things on a good note.”

  “Are you leaving, then?”

  “In a couple of days,” the other woman said.

  “I hope the murder didn’t scare you away.”

  “Maybe it should have,” she replied with a smile. “No, I’m still planning on moving to Maple Creek. I’m just not sure how soon. I really liked that house, in fact, it was my favorite out of all of the ones I looked at this week, but I’m just not sure I would be comfortable buying it after finding that poor man dead in the basement. Besides, it may not be for sale anymore. Even if it is, it will take a while for the lawyers to go through his will and work out what’s going to whom. It seems like I’ll have to keep looking.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find the right place eventually,” Moira said. “I know Allison is glad that you’re moving here.”

  “She’s such a good girl,” Thelma said. “I helped to raise her, you know. Her father wasn’t exactly in the picture.”

  “Neither was Candice’s. He left when she was about nine. She had visitation with him, but he was never very involved.”

  “Allison never met hers,” the other woman said. “Her mother didn’t want him in their lives, and for good reason. Then she met Louis, and they got married when Allison was only three years old. He’s her dad in every way but genetics.” She sighed and shook her head. “That’s my family’s history, I guess. I really was looking forward to moving to town. With my husband gone, I want to be closer to what’s left of my family.”

  “I have an idea,” Moira said, not sure why she hadn’t seen it before. “My daughter owns a farmhouse here in Maple Creek that she wants to rent out. It’s a long story, but she had to move away with her new husband very unexpectedly. It’s a nice house, but it’s a little bit older. It’s on a working farm. She leases out most of the land to neighboring farmers. There are cattle and cornfields, and my husband has a microbrewery on the property as well, so sometimes there’s a lot going on. Most of the time, though, it is very quiet and peaceful. If you want, I can give her a call and then the two of us can go and look at it. I have keys.”

  “I was hoping to avoid renting, but at the same time I don’t want to rush into buying a house. It’s worth a look. Would she mind if I got a pet? I was thinking of adopting a dog or cat to keep me company.”

  “I don’t think she would mind at all,” Moira said. “She has a cat, and she’s always happy to let me bring the dogs over.”

  “I would love to see it,” her new friend said. “When do you want to drive out there?”

  “How about now?”

  After getting the okay from Candice, Moira drove out to the farmhouse with Thelma following behind in her own vehicle. She was still mentally kicking herself for not making the connection earlier. It seems so obvious now. Her daughter wanted to rent the farmhouse out to someone who would take good care of it, preferably someone they knew, and Thelma was looking for a place to live. The house certainly had all of the land the other woman could want, and it was still pretty close to town.

  They parked in front of the house. Moira automatically glanced towards the brewery, but David wasn’t there. Karissa’s vehicle wasn’t there either. They were all alone out here, other than the cows.

  “It’s beautiful,” Thelma said. “Your daughter bought this place?”

  “Yes. She’s had it for, well, by now probably about half the year. She’s been doing some renovations inside. Repainting, tearing down old wallpaper, and replacing some of the furniture.”

  “How can she afford it? Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but she’s pretty young, isn’t she? Just about Allison’s age.”

  Moira hesitated. If Thelma was really interested in renting this house, it was only fair for her to know the truth. “She got it at a very low price due to the house’s history,” she said. “The last few owners here met with rather unfortunate fates. There is no way that she would have been able to afford it if it was at its full price.”

  “I see,” the other woman said, frowning for an instant. “Well, I suppose she got lucky. It really is a beautiful home, and look at all of this land. I can understand why she wants to keep it, instead of reselling it. I would much rather live here than in the tiny apartment I’m renting right now.”

  “Shall we go inside?” Moira suggested. “I’ll show you around, and then if you like it, I’ll tell my daughter. She will be able to answer any questions you have about the house later.”

  She unlocked the door and stepped across the threshold. Since David and Karissa used the house sometimes when they wanted to take a break from working, it didn’t have that abandoned feel that many empty houses had. She stopped in every week or so to dust and clean, and the house felt as if its owner had just stepped out.

  “Well, feel free to take a look around,” she said. “I’ll just follow you and try to answer any questions you might have.”

  “I love the wood floors,” the other woman said, moving into the living room. “And the fireplace. The mantle is gorgeous. Is all of this wood work original?”

  “I have no idea,” Moira said, chuckling. “If had to guess, I would say yes. It’s an old house, and hasn’t had much work done on it.”

  Thelma peered at the fireplace’s mantelpiece, running her hand across the wood. “It really is a beautiful home. How long has she…”

  She broke off, her brow increasing as she leaned forward to look at one of the framed photos Candice had put on the mantle.

  “That’s odd. I could have sworn Allison doesn’t even know who her biological father is. My sister told me they never met. But for some reason, your daughter has a photo of Allison and her father at the beach on her mantle.”

  “What are you talking about?” Moira said. “That’s Candice and her father, Mike. My ex-husband. That must have b
een just after we got divorced. She would’ve been nine or ten.”

  “This is your ex-husband?” Thelma said, blinking. “No, that’s impossible.”

  The deli owner gave a hesitant smile. “I think I know the man I was married to for nine and a half years.”

  “My husband and I – well, fiancé at the time – went on a week-long vacation with Allison’s mother and biological father back when the two of them were seeing each other. I would know his face anywhere. I spent a long time helping my sister get over him after she found out he was already married…”

  “It must be a coincidence,” Moira said. “They probably just look similar.”

  “Did he have a thin scar along his hairline, right here?” Thelma asked, drawing her finger across her temple.

  Mutely, the deli owner nodded. The two of them stared each other, stunned into silence. Was it possible that Allison and Candice had the same father?