Chicken Pesto Murder: Book 5 in The Darling Deli Series
Read Chicken Pesto Murder: Book 5 in The Darling Deli Series Online
Authors: Patti Benning
Tags: #Fiction
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chicken Pesto Murder
Book Five in the Darling Deli Series
By
Patti Benning
Copyright 2016 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved
.
No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.
**This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.
CHICKEN PESTO
MURDER
Book Five of The Darling Deli Series
Spring had well and truly sprung in the town of Maple Creek. The small town, nestled on the west coast of Michigan, was beginning to show signs of life again, with tiny green buds on the trees, and birdsong filling the air. Moira Darling took a deep breath, looking up at the clear sky before turning back to the delivery man. There was work to be done.
“I can take it from here,” she told him, nodding to the boxes of fresh goods piled neatly just inside the deli’s side door. “Thanks for helping me bring the boxes in. I’ll see you next month.”
Her goodbyes said, the owner of Darling’s DELIcious Delights slipped back inside the building and shut the door firmly behind her, pausing to double-check that it had locked shut before facing the boxes. Her hands on her hips, she considered the best assignment of tasks.
“How can I help, Ms. D?” Darrin, the lanky young man that had been working for the deli for over a year, poked his head through the door that led to the main part of the deli.
“Do you think you could take care of the dry goods? I’ll handle the perishable items. I’ve been meaning to clean out the freezer again anyway.”
“Sure thing.” He disappeared for a second—probably to tell Dante that he was on his own with the register—then strode into the kitchen, washed his hands, and grabbed a box cutter. “Let’s get to work.”
It didn’t take them long to get everything put away. Moira kept the kitchen well organized; everything had a place, and she knew exactly where those places were. The deli was her pride and joy, and she spent nearly as much time there as she did at her house. The kitchen, with stainless steel appliances, a gas range, and the six-foot-deep walk-in pantry, was like a second home to her.
“There’s someone at the register that wants to talk to you,” Dante, her other male employee, said as he walked into the kitchen. “I came back here to see if I could help Darrin while you’re up front, but it looks like you two handled unpacking everything already.”
“We’re pros,” she told him with a grin. “But feel free to help him break down the boxes. Put them in my car when you’re done; I might as well reuse them when Candice moves later this summer.”
“Will do, Ms. Darling,” Dante said. Darrin gave her a thumbs up, and the two of them got to work on breaking down and folding the cardboard boxes that the food had come in.
She was surprised and a bit concerned when she saw Detective Jefferson waiting for her by the register. Had something bad happened? Her first concern was for her daughter, Candice, who had left a few hours ago to go shopping in the city.
“Is everything all right?” she asked him, unable to keep the worry out of her voice.
“Everything is fine,” he assured her. “I’m not here for police business. Well, I sort of am. I’m sure you remember Detective Fitzgerald?”
She nodded. There was no way that she would forget the older, taciturn detective who had been on the force for as long as she could remember. She might not have the friendliest relationship with him, but she definitely respected him and his devotion to his work.
“He’s retiring this month,” Jefferson told her. “We’re planning a party for him on his last day. It will be an open event, and I’m hoping that we’ll have a good turnout. He’s really helped a lot of people during his time as a detective. Would it be all right if I left this flyer in your window? It’s got all the information for the party on it.”
“Of course.” She smiled. “And you can count on me to be there. Do you need catering or anything?” she offered. “I’d be more than happy to supply a platter of sandwiches, or a cheese and meat platter.”
“That would be wonderful,” he said, smiling. “Thanks for your support. I’m going to miss him. He was my mentor when I first started as a beat cop. I’m just glad that he’s not planning on moving away. Our chief left for Florida when he retired.”
“I hope he enjoys his retirement,” she said. “I’m sure he deserves it.”
After the detective left, she rejoined Dante and Darrin in the back to see how they were coming along with breaking down the boxes. She wasn’t sure how many Candice would need when she moved. She wasn’t even sure when her daughter would be
able
to move; she had been having trouble finding a good place to open up her business in Lake Marion, the next town over. Well, she
had
found a place, the perfect place, but the man who owned it had left town and his granddaughter, who ran the shop, hadn’t been very helpful when they wanted to get in touch with him. For her daughter’s sake, she hoped that the mess got figured out soon, though she couldn’t help but be glad that Candice would be living with her for a little while longer.
Her daughter had only lived away from home for two out of her twenty years, and those had been two of the loneliest years of Moira’s life. She had opened the deli during that time as a hobby, something for her to do so that she wouldn’t have to sit alone in her empty house all day. What might she do when Candice moved out for good? Maybe
she
should move to Florida and open some sort of shop there. She grinned to herself at the thought of herself in some seaside restaurant, serving up gator tail and shrimp instead of delicatessen-style soups and sandwiches. Somehow that just didn’t seem like her. No, she would miss the sleepy little towns that dotted the coast of Lake Michigan. This was where she had grown up and raised her own daughter. She didn’t plan on leaving it any time soon.
“That’s all of them, Ms. D,” Darrin said as he came back to the counter from the kitchen.
“Thanks, you guys,” she said.
“No problem.” He and Dante traded a look, and Moira raised an eyebrow. They looked like they were planning something.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Well, we were talking while we worked,” Darrin began. “And I thought that since the deli has been doing so well lately, we might get even more customers if we extended the hours.”
“I’ve actually been thinking of that, but I really don’t want to be open much later than we are now. Things start to slow down the hour before close anyway, and I don’t think that enough people would come in for the extra hours we would all have to work to be worth it,” she told him.
“We don’t mean that we should stay open later in the evening,” Dante chimed in. “But open earlier in the morning. I think a lot of people would come in if we offered some breakfast items.”
“Now that’s an idea,” Moira said, her mind already racing. Right now, the deli opened for lunch and closed shortly after the dinner rush. Breakfast might bring a fair amount of new customers in. “We would have to figure out a breakfast menu,” she added, thinking out loud. “And we would need a new supplier for eggs. We could start offering freshly squeezed juices; I’ve been meaning to buy a juicer anyway. The hours would be the most difficult thing to figure out. Would either of you be willing to work more?”
“Yes,” they said together.
“Especially during the summer,” Darrin added. “Since I won’t have classes.”
“And I can work as much as you want me to, Ms. Darling. Any extra hours are welcome,” said Dante.
“I’ll think about it,” she promised them. “I definitely do want to expand, I’m just not quite sure how yet.”
She had sent the two employees home and begun the task of cleaning up after a busy day when a familiar black car pulled into the parking lot. Moira smiled to herself when she saw David Morris get out of it and begin walking towards the deli’s front door. The private investigator had helped her more times than she could count since she had met him a few months ago. Even though he lived in Lake Marion, which was a good half hour away, he still managed to find reasons to visit her at work a few days each week.
They had gone on a couple of dates since he had first asked her out just over a month ago; she was glad that none of them had turned out as disastrously as the first one. Moira enjoyed spending time with David, but she wished that she didn’t have so much else going on at the same time. Between running the deli, helping Candice start her own business, and taking care of the house, she just didn’t have time for much of a social life.
She unlocked the doors for him, and leaned her mop against the wall. The floor was already nearly sparkling, but there were a few stubborn scuff marks that didn’t want to come off. If only she could afford to put new floors in, the place would look so much better.
“Hey,” she greeted the private detective. “What brings you to town?”
“I was just driving through,” he said. “I had to go to Wellsville for a case, and I decided to take the scenic route back.”
“I’m glad you did,” she replied with a grin. “It’s always nice to see a friendly face. Do you want anything to eat? I let the guys take the rest of the soup home, but I could make you a salad or sandwich if you wanted.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got some leftovers in the fridge that I should eat tonight,” he told her. “I just wanted to say hi… and to ask if you’re free tomorrow night.”
“Sure, after the deli closes, of course. Did you have something in mind?” she asked. She was glad that the deli wasn’t open very late; most evenings she could be home by eight and have a few hours before bedtime to finish whatever she hadn’t been able to get done in the morning. If she did end up extending the deli’s morning hours to include breakfast, she would have to rely more than ever on her employees. There was no way that she would be able to regularly work twelve-hour days without driving herself into the ground.
“Would you be interested in getting dinner with me at the Redwood Grill? I just closed another case, and I’d love to celebrate it with you,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling as they met hers.
“I’d love to.” A smile spread over her face. It sounded like work was going well for him too. It would be nice to spend an evening discussing their jobs; he might even have some good advice as to whether she should start serving breakfast or not.
“Great.” He returned her smile with one of his own. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“I think you should do it,” Candice said. Moira put the finishing touches on her hair before replying, making sure that no adventuresome strands would be able to escape during dinner.
“It will mean a lot of changes for both of us,” she said at last. “And once you leave, I’ll have to hire another employee. Maybe even two, considering how much you help out.”
“But you want to expand eventually, don’t you?” her daughter asked. “If breakfast ends up being a hit, then it could bring in the extra money you would need to open another place somewhere else. And if it doesn’t work out, you can always just go back to the normal hours.”
“You’re right, as usual,” Moira said with a laugh. “I’ll run it by David tonight and see what he thinks.”
“I’m sure he’ll think it’s a great idea. Have a good time, Mom.” Candice gave her a quick hug as David’s car pulled into the driveway. “Say hi to Denise for me.”
Denise was the owner of the Redwood Grill, and she and Moira were now on friendly terms after a bumpy start to their relationship. She was glad; the two women had a lot in common. They were both business owners, they both worked with food, and they both had experience with lousy husbands. Her own ex had had an affair shortly before they divorced, and Denise was still trying to make a decision about whether or not she could trust her husband any longer. The two of them had begun getting together every Sunday evening to talk about the previous week over a glass or two of wine. Martha, another of Moira’s friends, had also started joining them occasionally.
