Creamy Casserole Murder: Book 15 in The Darling Deli Series (2 page)

Deciding that it might be smartest to think like a cat, she got down on her hands and knees and began looking under the furniture in her bedroom. Under her nightstand, she found a lipstick that had disappeared around the same time as her earring—Felix had been busy—and knew she must be getting close. Sure enough, she found the piece of jewelry under her bed, way back against the wall. Her fingers closed on it just as a knock sounded below at the front door.

She managed to get the earring on without fumbling and gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror before hurrying downstairs. For their dinner date at the Redwood Grill, she played up her cruise-acquired tan by wearing a silver and pale green dress—not too dressy, but not too casual either. It would be the first time that she’d seen David since he had picked her up at the airport the other day, and she was feeling giddy at the prospect. She had missed him the most while she was gone, and no amount of video calls could beat actually seeing him in person.

“Come on in,” she said when she opened the door, after greeting him with a kiss. “I’ve got to run to the ladies’ room really quickly, then I’ll be ready to go.”

After freshening up, she stepped out of the bathroom and stroked Keeva’s head—the dog had been waiting outside the bathroom door for her, having been reluctant to leave her side since she had returned—and walked into the living room expecting to find David and Maverick. Surprisingly, the room was empty.

“David?” she called, walking back out into the hallway toward the kitchen. He wasn’t there, either. She was just about to check the backyard, thinking he might have gone outside with Maverick while he was waiting, when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

The private investigator reached the bottom of the stairs just as she did, and Maverick was close behind him. She thought she saw a flash of something like guilt across his face, but when she raised her eyebrows he just grinned at her and shrugged.

“Maverick must have heard a mouse or something,” he said. “He raced up there after you went to the bathroom.”

“I heard something skittering around in the attic the other day,” she said with a sigh, adding yet another thing to her mental to-do list. “I’ll have to take a peek up there sometime—but not right now. I’m ready to go if you are.”

They said goodbye to the dogs and took their leave, Moira pausing to lock the front door behind them. She caught up with David slowly, still thinking about his mysterious behavior on the stairs. For some reason, she felt like he hadn’t quite been honest with her.

The Redwood Grill was just as welcoming as ever, and despite having enjoyed all of the cruise ship’s fancy restaurants, Moira was glad to be back on more familiar ground. The hostess recognized them and offered them their usual secluded booth in the back. The deli owner ordered a glass of chardonnay to begin with, and browsed through the menu, taking her time to look at the new options. Every few weeks, Denise, who owned the Grill, switched out some of their less popular options with brand new ones or old favorites, which kept their customers coming back to try new things. Moira loved the variety offered by the Redwood Grill: the choices ranged from Tex-Mex, to seafood, to sizzling cuts of expensive steaks. David usually opted for something with red meat, but she liked trying some of the different options, and whenever something new popped up on the menu she usually ordered it.

“I’ll have the soybean casserole, please,” she told the waiter when he showed up to take their order.

“And I’d like the surf and turf platter,” David said. “Extra steak sauce, if you can.”

“I’m glad we were both able to do this,” Moira said once the waiter had left. “I’ve missed you. Video calling you from my tablet just wasn’t quite good enough.”

“I missed you, too,” he admitted. “So did the dogs, of course. I think they were disappointed whenever I got back without you with me.”

“I’m sure they weren’t too sad,” she replied, chuckling. “After all, they
did
get to go to work with you a couple times. That must have made up for it at least a bit. Thanks again for watching them, by the way.”

“Oh, it was fun. They’re good dogs, and hanging out together gave us all something to do while you were gone.”

She smiled at him, thinking once again just how lucky she was to have met him. He seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he slid his hand across the table, wrapped his fingers around hers, and squeezed, smiling back at her.

“So, what are your plans for this week?” he asked.

“Rest, finish unpacking, and catch up with everything that’s been going on around here since I left,” she told him. “Then I’m going to start focusing on the deli more. We’ve been getting more catering requests than ever, so I’ve been thinking of expanding again, maybe hiring one or two new people to focus on the catering side of things. Being open seven days a week and nearly twelve hours a day is already a stretch for the team I have now, and adding catering to the mix just puts extra pressure on everyone.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” he said. “I have to say, I am extremely impressed with how much the deli has grown just since I’ve known you. You’ve really got a gift for this, Moira.”

“It’s something I enjoy,” she said simply. “I don’t know if I’m especially good at it, but I enjoy it enough to want to keep on going even when it gets tough. I just wish I hadn’t waited so long to open up the deli. I feel like all of those other years were just a waste—other than raising Candice, of course.”

“Who knows,” he said. “Maybe if you had tried to start a business twenty years ago, it wouldn’t have succeeded as well as the deli has. Besides, if you
had
started a business back then, you’d probably be so successful that you would have moved out of Maple Creek, and then I never would have met you.”

“I love this town, so I don’t think I’d leave even if I was a millionaire,” she told him, grinning. “You might have been better off with someone else anyway, though. Most women don’t have a near-death experience every time they step outdoors.”

“Sometimes you have near-death experiences even when you’re indoors,” he pointed out.

“You’re not helping,” she said with a laugh.

“Your life might be slightly crazy at times,” he admitted more seriously after chuckling with her for a moment. “But you’re worth it. I don’t want you to ever think otherwise.”

She felt her face heat as he took her hand and kissed her fingers. It looked like romance wasn’t dead, not even for someone of her age.

When David dropped her off at home later that evening she was still giddy with happiness. Everything about her life seemed perfect right then. She was dating an amazing man, her business was doing well, her daughter was happy and successful, and even her dogs were healthy and well-behaved. Things couldn’t be better.

Smiling to herself, she went upstairs to her bedroom to take off her dress and change into something more comfortable for the evening. Reaching for the door to her jewelry cabinet to stash her earrings, she paused. Sitting in plain sight on top of the vanity was the ring she had been looking for earlier.
How on earth did I miss that?
she wondered, annoyed. She had spent so long looking for it, and it had been right in front of her the whole time.
I must be going crazy
, she thought.
Either that or those mice in the attic have been raiding my jewelry while I was gone.
That brought back thoughts of the probable rodent infestation that she would have to deal with, and she sighed. Tomorrow she would stop at the hardware store and get some live traps so she could relocate the little freeloaders. Tonight she was determined to relax, spend time with the dogs, and enjoy the peace and quiet for as long as she could.

The peace and quiet only lasted until she sank into sleep a few hours later. Her dreams were filled with giant mice, an endless ocean made of soup, and something nameless and terrifying chasing her through the maze-like halls of an old ship. She woke up gasping, certain for a moment that she was still on the cruise ship, and only gradually realizing that she was actually at home in her own bedroom, with her two dogs sleeping loyally on the floor next to her bed.

“Keeva, Maverick, come on up, you guys,” she said, patting the bed and sitting up to turn on the reading light on her nightstand. She didn’t normally let the dogs sleep with her—they were so big that their panting shook the whole bed—but after a bad dream nothing helped more than some cuddle time with the pups.

The two dogs jumped eagerly on the bed, Maverick throwing himself down by her feet and the wolfhound laying down more delicately on the bed beside her. Moira tugged the blankets up and rested back against the pillow, still shaken by the dream and glad that she had the dogs to keep her company. She didn’t know if she would be able to live out here so far from town all alone without them.
If you count the dogs, I haven’t lived alone for over twenty years
, she thought as she reached over to turn off the light.
The house would feel so empty if I was the only one here.

She settled back down in the darkness and closed her eyes, trying to fall back to sleep with the comforting warmth of the dogs pressed against her. She was just beginning to drift off when her phone went off, making her jump. Wincing at the loud noise, she sat up and grabbed the phone, her eyes resting on the glowing digits of the alarm clock just long enough to register the time. Three o’clock in the morning. Who could be calling her this early? Whoever it was, she was prepared to bet that they weren’t calling with good news.

“Hello?” she said, wide awake now.

“Moira?” a familiar voice asked. It took her a moment to place it.

“Reggie?”

“I’m so glad you answered.” The old man was speaking in a low voice—almost a whisper—and she had to turn the volume up on her phone to hear him. “You need to get over here right away.”

“Why, Reggie? What happened? Why aren’t you calling Eli?” She hoped that the young man was all right. Candice had started dating him a few months back, and they were inseparable now.

“Eli wouldn’t know what to do,” the grandfather whispered. “You will. I need your help. Someone’s been murdered.”

All of the air seemed to rush out of Moira.

“Murdered?” she managed. “At Misty Pines?”

The assisted-living home seemed like a peaceful place for the most part, and the staff seemed to truly care about the residents. She knew that if someone really had been killed, instead of passing quietly in their sleep as most residents did eventually, it would be the talk of the home for months.

“I heard it all happen in the room next to mine,” he said. “I woke up and heard Beatrice shouting for help, then something muffled her yells… then she got quiet. Too quiet. A little bit later the paramedics showed up.”

“You need to call the police, Reggie,” she said. “They’ll know how to handle this.”

“The police were here,” he said, his voice growing louder with his frustration. “I went out to tell them what I heard, but they didn’t take me seriously. Alberta sent me back to my room with some more sleeping pills. I didn’t take them.” He said the last part smugly, as if he had pulled one over on the director of the assisted-living home. Moira smiled—she loved the old man’s spirit.

“Did you take sleeping pills earlier in the evening, too?” she asked, her brain making a connection.

“I take sleeping pills every night. You try falling asleep without help at my age. There are far too many memories stuffed inside this old head to make sleep easy without the help of medication.”

The deli owner frowned, thinking about everything the elderly man had told her. He had woken from a drug-induced sleep to hear another elderly resident making noises in her room, and she had later passed away. Though she wanted to give the man the benefit of the doubt, it didn’t exactly sound like a clear-cut murder case to her. She liked Reggie a lot, but he did get confused sometimes. It would have been easy for him, still half-asleep with his brain muddled from the sleeping pills, to confuse his dreams with reality.

“Did you hear anyone in the room next door? Did they say anything?” she asked. “Anyone besides your friend Beatrice, that is?”

“No, not that I can remember, but I’m sure someone else was with her. The door to her room slammed shut a few minutes after she stopped shouting.” He fell silent for long enough that Moira wondered if he had fallen asleep. Just as she was about to speak, he cleared his throat and added, “I know what you think, that I’m just some crazy old man, but I know what I heard. Beatrice was killed, and whoever did it is going to get away scot-free unless we do something about it.”

She heaved a sigh, covering the phone with her hand so Reggie couldn’t hear her frustration. It was true: her gut instinct was to dismiss his concerns, but that wasn’t fair to him.
How horrible must it be,
she thought,
to be so powerless when you’re so sure that something was wrong?
Because whether someone really had been killed or not, the old man obviously
believed
that it had happened. It was real to him, and that was what mattered.

“How about I come out tomorrow? I can’t really do anything tonight anyway. Tomorrow I can take a look around, see if anyone is acting suspicious, and we can have lunch together. I’ll even bring David, if he’s free.”