Italian Wedding Murder: Book 4 in Papa Pacelli's Pizzeria Series Read online

  “Chances are, this Karen lady is perfectly nice,” she said. “But if she does know something about Laura Martin’s murder, then she might be dangerous, and we might have to run.”

  “And I’d just slow you down,” the older woman said with a sigh. “I know you’re right. I want to hear all about it when you get back. My granddaughter, solving murders. Who would have thought?”

  Ellie, Shannon, and Grace got to the building that housed Karen Becker’s office a good half an hour before five. The receptionist beckoned them over to the desk when they came in.

  “Who are ya’ here to see?” she drawled, her southern accent marking her as a non-local.

  “Dr. Karen Becker,” Ellie said.

  The receptionist clicked a few times, then peered at them more closely. “She doesn’t have any more appointments this evening. Are you sure y’all have the right day? What name is the appointment under?”

  “We’re actually here to see her about a personal matter.”

  “Well, she doesn’t usually take walk-ins.” The receptionist chewed on the end of her pen. “I’ll have to send her a note. If she doesn’t want to see you, you got to leave.”

  “Okay. Just… just tell her we’re here to talk about Mayor Martin and his wife.”

  They waited anxiously as the woman behind the computer typed a message to her boss. After a few minutes, she looked over at them and sighed. “She says she’ll see you, but it can’t take long. She’ll be with you in about ten minutes. Feel free to help yourself to coffee or tea and cookies while you wait.”

  The three women sat down, relieved that they had successfully crossed the first hurdle. All they really needed to know was if Karen had been having an affair with the mayor; Shannon thought that might be enough to get Russell to take them more seriously and question her. Ellie wasn’t holding her breath that the woman would come out and admit to an affair, but with Grace along, she might just feel guilty enough to let something slip.

  A door leading from the reception area opened up, and a man in a tweed suit walked out, followed by a brunette. “I’ll see you next week. Don’t forget to work on those breathing exercises we practiced.” The woman was easily recognizable as the lady from the photos. She was smiling, but the expression faded when her gaze landed on Ellie, Shannon, and Grace.

  “You three, come on back,” she said.

  They followed her to a comfortable office, with a plush love seat and a couple of armchairs. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and the warm scent of a vanilla candle pervaded the air. It didn’t exactly seem like the den of a dangerous woman. Ellie felt herself relax.

  “What can I do for the three of you?” the woman asked as she sat down at her desk. Her voice was cold.

  “We’re here to ask some questions about Mayor Martin,” Shannon said calmly. “Specifically, what is your relationship with him? How well do you know him?”

  Karen was opening her mouth to respond when Grace cut in.

  “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?” she said in a voice high pitched with emotion. “I knew it. I knew he was cheating on Laura, but it took me this long to figure out with who.”

  “What in the world are you talking about?” the psychologist said, taken aback.

  “I have pictures of you coming to his house, alone, every single week.”

  “I know this is hard for you, Grace,” Ellie said. “But remember, we aren’t here to accuse her of anything. We just need the truth, whatever it is.”

  “I am not, nor have I ever, been romantically involved with a married man,” Karen said, her words taut with disapproval. “And I would appreciate it if all three of you would leave. I don’t enjoy having accusations thrown at me in my own place of work. I shouldn’t have agreed to see you at all.”

  “We aren’t trying to throw accusations at you,” Shannon said, casting an annoyed glance at Grace. “I’m a journalist. I have a column in the Kittiport newspaper. As I’m sure you know, Laura Martin’s death has been big news in our little town. Some people think that her husband is the one that killed her. The pictures of you coming to his house on a regular basis will only feed rumors of an affair, which strengthens the position of those who think he’s a killer. Being caught in an affair is as good a motive for murder as any, and a better motive than anyone else would have had. So if you’re his friend, just tell me the truth about how you know him. It could save a lot of grief and trouble on his part.”

  Karen licked her lips, looking between them. “Does this stay off the record?”

  “If you want,” Shannon said.

  “He wasn’t having an affair. With anyone. We’ve been friends for years, and more recently, I’ve been acting as a therapist for couple’s counseling sessions for him and his wife, may she rest in peace. I shouldn’t even be telling you that much, but he does not deserve to have his name dragged through the mud. Please don’t insinuate anything in your article that isn’t true.” She stood up to see them to the door, then paused mid-stride. Her eyes rested on Grace.

  “What did you say your name was?”

  “This is Grace Camper,” Ellie said when the other woman made no move to introduce herself.

  “Laura’s sister?” Karen’s eyes went wide. “I think you need to leave right now.”

  “But—”

  “Leave, or I’m calling the police.” She reached for the phone on her desk, but Grace stepped forward and yanked the cable out of the receiver.

  “I was wondering if they’d said anything about me,” she said. “I guess I got my answer.”

  “What are you talking about, Grace?” Shannon said.

  “Laura’s sister,” Karen said, sitting back down in her seat heavily. “She served five years in prison for assault when she discovered that the man she had been seeing had a wife. She nearly killed the poor woman. I knew you were staying with them, but I didn’t make the connection until now.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ellie asked, dumbfounded by the turn of events.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say this is the woman that killed Laura Martin. Grace killed her own sister.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  * * *

  Ellie and Shannon both took a step back, trading a horrified glance. It didn’t make sense. Grace had seemed so earnest in her search for her sister’s killer.

  “What did they say about me?” the sister asked, casually walking over to the outlet and unplugging the computer.

  “They told me about your past. A history of unstable relationships. How you would obsess over each guy you went out with, then have a breakdown the moment he didn’t meet your expectations.” Karen wasn’t looking at Grace as she spoke. Her eyes were on Ellie. The pizzeria manager stared back at her, still confused but beginning to realize that they had walked in to a bad situation.

  “What else?” the woman asked, walking slowly around the desk to stand behind the psychologist. She leaned over her and delicately picked up a letter opener shaped like a dagger from Karen’s desk. “Did Ambrose talk about me?”

  “They told me you had gotten out of prison and were staying with them for a while, until you got your feet back under you.” Karen paused. “I’m sorry, Grace, but could you please put that letter opener down? It’s making me uncomfortable.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you, not unless those two make a break for the door, anyway. I need some sort of collateral. You see, I really don’t want to go to prison again.” She poked the psychologist in the shoulder with the blunted blade. “Continue. I want to know what they said.”

  “There isn’t much else. Why don’t you take a turn at talking, Grace? You could tell us a little bit about your life with them.”

  “What is there to say? I fell in love the day I moved in.” Laura’s sister sighed and leaned back against the wall. “Ambrose was so nice to me. I knew we could be together, just as soon as I found out a way to make Laura leave. I can’t believe I thought he was having an affair with someone else — I guess that
’s what I get for eavesdropping. I kept hearing them mention some other woman, but that was just you, their therapist.”

  “So you fell in love with him, and wanted to get his wife out of the way?” Karen asked. She was still looking at Ellie, darting her eyes to something behind her right shoulder. The pizzeria manager began slowly turning her head, scared that if she made a sudden move, Grace would snap.

  “I was prepared to wait,” Grace said. “I knew that he loved me too, and he would leave her eventually.”

  “Then why did you kill her?” the psychologist asked. “She was your sister. I don’t think you wanted to hurt her.”

  Ellie continued to turn her head, finally catching a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. There was a fire alarm on the wall beside the door behind her. She glanced back at Karen, who gave the slightest of nods.

  “I didn’t want to hurt her,” Grace was saying. “You’re right about that. Like I said, I was willing to wait. But then their relationship started getting better, and they began spending more time together.” Her brows furrowed. “That must have been your doing. I decided to take matters into my own hands. I began doing little things to sabotage them. I switched the fake flowers for live ones. Laura’s been allergic to pollen her whole life. She gets all stuffed up and blotchy, and it isn’t very attractive. I thought that would drive Ambrose away, but it didn’t work. He didn’t seem to care. I had to up the ante. I began undercooking her meat during our meals together, I never washed any of the vegetables for her plate, I let the milk that she used for her coffee every morning sit out. Anything I could think of to make her sick. I grew up with her; I know just how horrible she gets when she doesn’t feel well.”

  “You’re the one that gave her food poisoning that day at the pizzeria!” Shannon exclaimed, speaking for the first time since Grace had shown her true colors.

  The other woman nodded. “It must have been the chicken from the night before. Hers was barely cooked, and I set it on the counter for two hours before beginning to prepare the meal. I can’t imagine how she didn’t notice it. Or maybe she did notice it, because later that night she asked me to take a walk with her, down by the marina. She told me that she wanted me to move out. I just… I snapped.”

  “I’m sure it feels good to get all of this off your chest, Grace. How do you feel about everything that you’ve done?”

  “Don’t try your shrinky stuff with me — wait, what is that in your hand?”

  Grace let the letter opener clatter to the floor as she grabbed Karen’s arm. Ellie decided that was her signal; she lunged for the fire alarm and gave it a sharp pull. Immediately an earsplitting alarm started blaring and bright lights began flashing. Grace and Shannon both let out shrieks of shock, but Karen, who had been expecting it, used that moment to yank her arm out of Grace’s grip and jump out of her chair. The two women scuffled, but now that Grace was unarmed, they were evenly matched.

  Ellie was surprised when Shannon let out a shout and ran forward into the fray. Her friend had been frozen with fear the entire time, but finally seemed to have overcome it. The two women managed to restrain Grace in no time. Shannon used the phone cord that the other woman had ripped from the wall minutes before to bind her hands behind her back, and they forced her into the chair behind the desk. With both the journalist and the psychologist standing guard over her, Grace wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Call the police,” Karen shouted over the noise of the alarm. “Tell them we have Laura Martin’s killer — and a taped confession.” She held up her hand and revealed what had caused Grace to panic the moment before the alarm went off; a palm sized voice recorder, with the red recording light still on.

  EPILOGUE

  * * *

  The street outside of the office building was chaotic. The fire department had responded to the alarm, and the truck was parked on the curb while volunteer firemen spoke to the local police. Grace had already been taken away, and Karen had turned in the voice recording at the same time. Each of the three women had been questioned, and though they were finally free to go, they were still standing in a huddle by the building.

  “I can’t believe all of that just happened,” Shannon said. “We spent hours with her, and she seemed so normal. She was in your house, Ellie.”

  “I know.” Ellie shuddered. “It doesn’t seem real, does it? I never would have thought that she was the one that did it. She just didn’t seem like a killer.”

  “I should have connected the dots sooner,” Karen said. “After everything they told me about her, I still didn’t guess that she was the one that killed Laura until I saw how she reacted in my office when she thought I had been having an affair with Ambrose.”

  “We should have listened to Russ and kept out noses out of it.” The journalist sighed. “Why is my brother-in-law always right?”

  “I don’t know if he’s always right,” Ellie said. “He must be wrong sometimes. It’s just that we’re wrong a lot more often.” She winced at the thought of what he would say when he heard of this latest fiasco. How did she always manage to end up in such deep water? Thinking back over the past few days, she tried to see the signs that she was dealing with a madwoman, but couldn’t.

  “Sorry, by the way,” Shannon said, turning to Karen. “It was completely our fault for dragging you into all of this. If we had known —”

  “Don’t worry about it. No one got hurt, after all, and we did manage to send a killer to prison.”

  “It was quick thinking, using that voice recorder.”

  “You’d be surprised how many times I’ve gotten death threats. I deal with a lot of people who have self-control issues, and if I ever had to defend myself, I’d need some sort of proof on my side. I’ve gotten pretty good at using that thing without anyone noticing.”

  “Well, still… sorry.” Shannon sighed and glanced up at the sky. “It looks like it might rain soon. We should probably get going, Ellie. I just know that Russell is going to be calling us as soon as he hears about this. I want to tell James what happened first. He never likes hearing things secondhand from the sheriff.”

  “All right. I need to get back to Nonna and tell her what happened as well. I did promise her I’d tell her all about it, though she probably isn’t expecting such an exciting story.”

  They said their goodbyes to Karen, waved to the somewhat befuddled police officers — the one that had interviewed them had seemed very impressed that three women had managed to subdue a killer on their own — and got into Ellie’s car. As she put it into gear, the pizzeria manager turned to look at her friend. Their gazes met, and they both grinned. Neither of them wanted to repeat the experience any time soon, but they weren’t exactly complaining, either. They hadn’t exactly solved the mystery, but still, they had caught a murderer, and there was something to be said for that.