Grilled Rye Murder: Book 16 in The Darling Deli Series (10 page)

“Can I talk to you?” the young woman asked quietly. “Alone?” Her eyes darted anxiously between the others.

“She’s not done yet,” Freya told her with a frown. “You’ll have to wait.”

“Please, Ms. D. It’s important.”

Moira met her employee’s eyes and read the urgency there. Whatever was going on, she knew it couldn’t wait, or Jenny wouldn’t have interrupted.

“All right,” she said. “Sorry, Freya. I’m going to have to step into the hallway really quickly.”

Ignoring her hairdresser’s annoyed sigh, she shrugged out of the sheet and got up. A quick glance in the mirror tempted her to stay and take a longer look—could that beautiful woman really be her? But Jenny was fidgeting at her side, and she knew there was no time to spare.

“What is it?” she asked the young woman when they reached the privacy of the hall. “Did something happen?”

“It’s about Cam,” Jenny whispered.

So she found out about his money
, Moira thought with a sigh. She could understand the other woman’s need to talk to someone, but found herself wishing that Jenny had waited until the reception at least.
I need to be ready in time for the ceremony.

“He didn’t want—”

“I think he killed Zander.”

The deli owner choked on her words, completely floored by what the other woman had said. “What? Why on earth would you think
that
?”

“The police…” Jenny took a deep breath. “They brought me in and asked me a lot of questions about him.”

“What sort of questions?”

“Stuff like how well he knew Zander, and if he knew that we were dating, and if I knew where he was the morning of the murder.”

“I’m sure they were just covering all of their bases,” the deli owner said. “They
arrested
me, remember? And I know I didn’t do it.”

“But that’s not all.” Jenny bit her lip. “This morning, I had the news on while I was getting ready. It was that same station as before, Beyond News or whatever, and they said that according to Zander’s calendar, he had met with Cam the night before he died.”

Neither woman said anything after that for a long moment. Moira’s mind was racing.
Why
would Cameron kill Zander? What motive could he have? Her gaze fell on Jenny’s face, and she realized that his motive was standing right in front of her.

Cameron was in love with Jenny, by his own admission. He had spent the last six months trying to get her to notice him, trying to get her to like him for who he was, not just his money. After Jenny and Zander broke up for the first time, he must have been relieved and thought he had a chance with her. But if he somehow found out that they had begun seeing each other again…

“Jenny, where is Cameron now?”

“He’s over at the reception hall. I—I was scared to be there alone with him, or I would have waited to tell you. I don’t want to wreck your wedding.”

“Don’t worry about that. If you’re right, then you just solved Zander’s murder and cleared my name. I could hug you—but I won’t, because Freya will murder
me
if I smudge this makeup.”

Moira slipped back into the dressing room, then hesitated. She had been about to grab her phone and call David… but was that really the best thing to do? He would be just as busy preparing for the wedding as she was supposed to be. If she could somehow get Cameron safely in police custody without disturbing the ceremony, that would be ideal.

She glanced at the clock. In forty-five minutes, she was supposed to get married. The reception hall—really just the event center at City Hall—was only a five-minute drive away. She could go there and… and what? And get Cameron to confess. If she could somehow convince Detective Jefferson to go along with her, he could arrest the young man on the spot, all in time for her to get back to the church before the ceremony began.

“I’ll be right back,” she told a startled Martha as she pushed past her to grab her purse. “Don’t let them start without me.”

“Wait!” Jenny called as Moira rushed down the church’s hallway. “I want to come with you.”

The deli owner hesitated for a moment before biting her lip and agreeing. “I have a plan; I’ll explain it to you on the way. But I’ve got to make a call first. Can you drive?”

They ran through the parking lot, Moira slowing down just enough to hoist up her skirts as she hurried across the asphalt. She leapt into the passenger seat and tossed Jenny her keys. “Head to the reception hall,” she said before pulling out her cell phone and scrolling down to Detective Jefferson’s number.

They pulled into the City Hall parking lot a few minutes later, both women frightened but determined. An unmarked black car pulled in after them a moment later. It cruised by in front of them close enough for her to recognize Detective Jefferson, and she felt a rush of relief. He hadn’t liked her plan, but at least he had believed her enough to meet them there.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked Jenny.

“I’m sure,” the young woman said. “I think you’re right—if he’s going to confess to anyone, it’ll be to me.”

“Let’s go, then. David will never forgive me if I’m late to our wedding.”

They edged their way into the eerily empty City Hall building and began making their way towards the stairway that led down to the event center. It had been over a year since Moira had been there. In fact, the last time she had been there had been a retirement party for a detective… a detective that had been killed later that night.

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to host the reception here
, she thought with a shiver.
The last time I went to an event held here, it didn’t exactly end well.

“Are you ready?” she asked Jenny at the top of the stairs. They could hear the sounds of conversation from the basement. Moira had forgotten that Allison would be there too.

“Ready,” the other woman said. “Are you sure that detective will be nearby?”

“He’ll be close,” Moira promised. “And the second he hears Cameron confess, he’ll step in and arrest him.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Here we go.”

The two of them walked down the stairs to find a beautifully decorated reception hall waiting for them. Allison and Cameron were on the far side of the room, pulling a table cloth over the long table that the cake would be presented on. Strings of beautiful white lights hung all around, giving the room an almost magical look.

“Ahem,” Jenny said. Cameron and Allison looked around, both of their faces taking on the same shocked expression when they saw Moira standing there in her wedding dress.

“What’s going on, Ms. D? Did something happen to the wedding?” Allison asked.

“No, it’s still on,” the deli owner assured her grimly. “But we need to talk to Cameron… alone, if that’s all right.”

The other woman looked between them, confused, but agreed to give them some privacy. “I need to get the place cards from the truck anyway,” she said, excusing herself. Moira waited until she had disappeared up the stairs before turning back to Cameron.

The young man was looking at Jenny with a resigned look on his face. “Look, I think I know what this is about… I just don’t want it to change things between us, Jenny.”

“What do you mean, you don’t want it to ‘change things’?” the brunette asked in a high-pitched voice. “How can you be so calm about this? I know what you did! Ms. D knows what you did. You’re a terrible person, Cam.”

Moira put a hand on Jenny’s arm, trying to calm her down.
We just need a confession
, she thought.
Focus on getting that, Jenny… come on…

“What—what did I do wrong?” Cameron asked, stumbling back from her outburst in confusion. “Maybe I should have told you right off the bat, but like I told Ms. D, I wanted you to like me for me, not for my money.”

“What are you talking about?” Jenny said, staring at him with a blank look on her face. “Are you saying… did you get
paid
to kill him?”

“What?” the young man gaped at her. “I didn’t kill anyone!”

He really sounds surprised,
the deli owner thought.
Could we be wrong? Jenny’s theory had made so much sense, though.

“Yes, you did,” Jenny snapped. “Ms. D and I figured it all out. You saw Cameron the night before he died, and then those police officers asked me all of those questions, and they took your fingerprints—”

“Jenny, I didn’t kill him. How can you even think that? I thought this was about my money.”

“What money?”

He looked at Moira, who nodded encouragement. Cameron blew out a slow breath, then said, “Jenny… I’m rich. Like, really rich. I didn’t want to tell you… well, because I like you. A lot. Most of the women I’ve dated in the past haven’t really been into
me,
I don’t think most of them would have even looked at me if I had been some poor guy. With you, I wanted to give something real a chance to develop.” He gave dry chuckle. “I guess it turns out that I’m pretty terrible at flirting when I don’t have my money to back me up. I don’t think you ever looked at me as more than a coworker.”

“Cameron… is this true?”

“It’s true that he has money,” Moira said. “He’s the one that paid my bail. I know what he’s saying about his feelings for you is also true. He’s been working at the deli for the last six months just to be near you.”

“But… but what about Zander?” the young woman asked. “If you… if you really like me that much, then that would give you even more reason to want to kill him. You knew we were getting back together. I told you as much just a couple of days before he died.”

“I didn’t kill Zander,” Cameron said firmly. “Jenny, I would never hurt someone you care about.”

Jenny and Moira exchanged a glance. He
seemed
sincere enough. The deli owner thought back all the months she had known him, and couldn’t remember ever seeing him get violent or angry. She thought that he did honestly care for the young woman standing next to her, that wasn’t something he could fake.

“I… I think he’s telling the truth, Ms. D,” Jenny said.

“I think so, too.” She winced at the thought of the conversation she would probably be having with Detective Jefferson shortly. He was bound to be annoyed by the false alarm.

“You should get back to your wedding,” Jenny said. She glanced over at Cameron. “I’m going to stay here. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Moira nodded. “Cameron… I’m sorry.” She turned to face her employee, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry about it, Ms. D. I guess it’s good the cat’s out of the bag now. I shouldn’t keep secrets from someone I care about.”

She nodded, shot one more glance towards Jenny, who gave her a reassuring smile, then turned and headed towards the stairs.
At least David isn’t here
, she thought. She would have been even more embarrassed than she already was if her fiancé had witnessed her wrongly accusing one of her employees of murder. Detective Jefferson witnessing it was bad enough.

He joined her at the top of the stairs, looking amused. “That was a real brutal killer you uncovered.”

“Oh, hush,” she told him. “I’m getting married today—you have to be nice to me. Tomorrow you can give me the lecture about wasting valuable police resources if you want.”

“Nah,” he said. “I did this on my own time. I was
supposed
to be getting ready to attend a certain deli owner’s wedding, actually. I guess I don’t have time to change now… I’ll just have to wear jeans.”

“Shoot,” Moira said, pulling out her phone. “I’ve only got ten minutes until I’m supposed to be walking down the aisle!”

She hurried to her car, hoisted her skirts, and got in the driver’s seat. Solving Zander’s murder would just have to wait one more day—right now, she had vows to make.

Moira pulled into the church parking lot with only minutes to spare. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel tightly. This was it. In just a few minutes, she would be walking down the aisle towards David, and within an hour she would leave the church as a married woman.

“Breathe,” she told herself. She pulled down the visor and examined her face and hair in the little mirror. Freya hadn’t quite gotten a chance to finish her eyeshadow, but it wasn’t noticeable. Her hair was still in place, and her makeup remained unsmudged. She smiled at herself in the mirror, then flipped the visor back up. It was time to find Martha and her other bridesmaids… all of whom were probably a wee bit upset with her for running off as she had.

She got out of the car, hit the button on her keys to lock it, and started towards the church. Halfway across the parking lot, she paused. Barely visible around the corner of the church was the nose of a black van. A van just like the one that she had seen the morning of Zander’s murder.

She looked from the van to the church doors, then back again.
Just go inside
, she told herself.
I can tell Jefferson about the van after the wedding.
But what if the van was gone by then? It wouldn’t take her more than a few seconds to dash around the corner and take a photo of the van’s license plate. Then Detective Jefferson could track down its owner at his leisure.
Getting that plate number could clear my name.
That thought made her mind up. She pulled out her phone and hurried around the corner.