Grilled Rye Murder: Book 16 in The Darling Deli Series (6 page)

“Great. I’ll get Colleen to bring out the samples. Why don’t you join me at the table in the back? It will be nice and quiet, and you can take your time going over each flavor.”

Picking out the flavor of her wedding cake was something that Moira had been looking forward to for weeks. David wasn’t too picky when it came to sweets, so he had given her free rein. With him working extra now to make up for the time he would be gone from his cases during their honeymoon, she had agreed to do the tasting with her friends instead of trying to figure out when he could come along.

“Oh my goodness, I love this strawberry cake,” Martha said, taking another bite of the small sample piece on her plate. “I’ve never had anything like it.”

“You loved the vanilla and the lemon cakes, too,” Karissa said, chuckling.

“They’re
all
good. I’ve never been to a wedding that actually had good cake, but Moira won’t be able to keep me away from this.”

The deli owner chuckled, taking a small bite of her own. The strawberry cake, with white chocolate buttercream frosting
was
good. The cake itself wasn’t too sweet, and she knew Fanni had used real strawberries in it. It tasted fresh; perfect for a summer wedding.

Then again,
all
of the flavors she had tasted so far had been good, and she still had three more flavors to try: chocolate, coconut, and mocha. When combined with all of the options for frosting and fillings, plus the fact that she could have a different combination of flavors on each tier, the deli owner knew she was going to be faced with some very difficult choices indeed.

“Here’s the double chocolate with cocoa mousse,” Fanni said, reappearing with another set of plates with small sample pieces on them. The deli owner tried a bite, and was floored by the decadent flavor. At this rate, how was she ever going to choose? Each bite was better than the last.

“So, what do you think it will be?” the bakery owner asked when they had finally finished tasting the last sample; a light and fluffy coconut-flavored cake. “Or do you want some time to talk it over with the lucky man first?”

“I think I’m going to have to ask him,” Moira said. “We can do different flavors for each tier, right?”

“Sure thing. I can do pretty much whatever you want—different-flavored tiers, any size or shape of cake you’d like, fondant, buttercream, or even whipped frosting…”

“Let’s stick with the buttercream,” the deli owner told her. “Fondant looks nice, but it doesn’t taste good, and whipped frosting won’t last for long before it starts to wilt. I think buttercream is a nice compromise between them.”

“It’s nice to talk with someone who knows what she wants,” Fanni said with a chuckle. “Go ahead and take a few days to talk it over. Do you think you could let me know by Monday at the latest?”

“Definitely. I should be able to give you a call tomorrow, in fact. Thanks so much, Fanni.”

With their bellies full of sugar, the four woman left the bakery in search of some real food. Feeling nostalgic, Moira suggested Arlo’s Diner. The diner had been around for as long as she could remember, and she and Candice had gone there every week when Candice was younger. Run by the same irascible elderly gentleman, the food hadn’t changed much at all for over twenty years. It was a blast from the past for Moira and Martha, who had both grown up in Maple Creek.

“I can’t believe old Arlo is still running this place. Didn’t it come close to closing down a while ago?” Martha asked, idly swirling the last of her fries in ketchup.

“A couple of times,” Moira told her. “But he pulls through. I doubt he makes much money off of this place, but he sure loves it. Give me another twenty years at the deli, and I’m sure I’ll be just like him.”

“David will keep you on your toes,” Denise assured her. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll hand the deli off to Darrin when the time is right, and enjoy some well-earned retirement.”

“Maybe.” Moira wrinkled her nose. “I’m not ready to think about all of that yet, though. First I’ve got to get through the next few weeks without having a breakdown or getting hauled off to jail again. Come on, we should get going. Talking about the deli reminded me—I need to stop there and drop off next week’s schedule before going to pick up Flower from animal control.”

After saying goodbye to her friends, and thanking them sincerely for spending the day shopping with her—they really were the best group of bridesmaids she could ask for—she drove over to the deli and popped inside just as Darrin was finishing up a transaction with a customer. Not wanting to interrupt, she dropped the schedule off next to the register and started to head back towards the door.

“Ms. D, wait,” Darrin said quickly. “I’ve got a message for you from someone. Hold on…”

He finished ringing up the customer, then pulled open the drawer beneath the register and pulled out the yellow notepad kept there for just that purpose.

“A kid stopped in a few hours ago and wanted to know when you’d be in again. I told him tomorrow morning, and he said he would stop by. He wanted to know how Hazel was doing.”

Moira blinked, stunned. She had long since given up finding out who Hazel’s first owner had been. Nearly a year ago, someone had abandoned the pregnant dog behind the deli with nothing but a note begging the deli owner to take care of her. Why was her original owner choosing now to come looking for her?

“A kid?” she asked.

“Yeah, maybe twelve or thirteen. He rode his bike over, and I didn’t see any parents.”

“Thanks for telling me, Darrin. I’ll have Karissa send me some new pictures of Hazel tonight so he can see that she’s happy. I hope he doesn’t want her back… Karissa loves that dog, and Hazel is utterly spoiled.”

She left the deli with her good mood slightly dampened. It would be wonderful to be able to give the kid good news about his dog, but she couldn’t help wondering why he was choosing
now
, nearly a year after leaving her tied up behind the deli, to find out what had happened to her.
Maybe he saw that news story about my arrest and Zander’s murder
, she thought, feeling a new rush of anger towards the reporter and whoever had been leaking information about her at the police station.
And now the poor kid thinks he gave his dog to a killer.
Well, come tomorrow, she would set his mind at ease. Hazel was very happy with David’s sister, and that would just have to be good enough for the kid.

“I’m glad Jefferson talked Animal Control into letting you bring her home.” David reached down to scratch the little yellow dog’s ears. Flower wriggled with joy. She had been ecstatic ever since Moira had picked her up, and her energy showed no sign of fading.

“Me too. She looked so unhappy there. I hated seeing her locked in that cold metal kennel,” the deli owner said. She prodded her fork at the salad on her plate. The cherry bourbon dressing was one of her favorites, but she had no appetite. What had happened to her good mood from earlier in the day?

Seeing Flower in that kennel was like being back in jail myself
, she thought.
I’ve been doing my best not to think too much about my arrest, but that’s a mistake. If something goes wrong in the investigation, I could end up in prison.

“Is everything all right?” David asked her. As always, he seemed in tune with her moods. She smiled at him.

“Just thinking,” she said. “Sorry. I feel bad for inviting you over for dinner, then just sitting here in silence the whole time.”

“Don’t worry about it. This is what marriage is about, isn’t it? ‘For better or for worse,’ right? I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, what with both the wedding and Zander’s death. I just wish there was more I could do to help.”

“Oh, you’ve been wonderful, David. I’m just a worrier. Have you managed to find any leads on who might have killed Zander? Just knowing that you had
some
idea of who it could be would help a lot.”

“Well…” He hesitated, and she thought she knew why.
He thinks if he tells me, I’ll go off and try to investigate myself.

“Please? I promise not to do anything reckless.”

“I did find something that raised a red flag for me,” he relented. “Someone named Danehill approached Zander with an impressive offer on his land a few months ago. Yesterday, he approached Zander’s aunt—she’s his closest living relative, and his estate went to her since he died without a will—and made another offer.”

Moira gave a low whistle. “You think this guy wanted Zander’s property badly enough to kill him? How did you find all of this out?”

“I’ll tell you if you promise to keep in confidential.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“His aunt approached me right after the offer was made and hired me to look into it. She thought it seemed pretty suspicious too—suspicious enough to warrant putting a private investigator on Danehill’s tail.”

“Have you told any of this to the police yet?” she asked hopefully. Maybe Zander’s murder would be solved sooner than she had hoped. Then he could finally rest in peace… and she could rest without worrying about trying to run the deli from prison.

“I gave them the information about the offers on Zander’s property as soon as I found out,” he told her. “I want this solved by our wedding.”

“Me too,” she told him, picking up her fork again. Knowing that David and the police had at least one other suspect made her feel a lot better. In no time at all, her name would be cleared, her wedding would be over, and she would be looking forward to a happy life with the man sitting across the table from her.

The next morning was a hectic rush. With three dogs, it took her longer than usual to get everyone fed, put out, and settled in for the day. Even after they had been taken care of, they were underfoot the entire time that she was trying to get ready. Moira didn’t quite trust Flower—used to roaming outside on the farm—alone in the house, so she had to be gated in the mud room—which meant finding the baby gate and rushing to set out a dog bed and water dish for the energetic pup. Flower had decided that the entire morning routine was the most exciting thing that she had ever experienced.

A spilled mug of coffee and subsequent change of clothes later, Moira was finally ready to head out. At the last minute, thinking of the kid who was supposed to be stopping in at the deli sometime that morning, she snapped a picture of Flower. If their positions had been reversed, she knew that she would love to see pictures of the puppies.

“Hey, Dante. It smells wonderful in here.”

It was a phrase that she found herself saying every morning that the young man was responsible for opening the shop. A good cook all around, he had a real gift for quiches. The mini quiches had been his idea, in fact. A large part of the success of the deli’s breakfast hours was due to his cooking.

“Thanks, Ms. D. I tried a new recipe today—parsley and sun-dried tomatoes with shredded mozzarella on top. The first batch should be done in just a few minutes.”

“Will you set a couple aside on a plate for me?” she asked. “I’ve got to get started on the pot roast stew. It’s going to take hours to cook, and I don’t want to leave our lunch guests waiting.”

“Sure thing. I’ll grab a cup of coffee for you, too.”

“Dante, you are amazing.”

Moira washed her hands, pulled out the slow cooker and a frying pan, and got to work. With a loud sizzle she put the pot roast in the pan and began the process of browning it on all sides. Even before she seasoned it, the juicy cut of meat smelled amazing as it began to cook. Today’s soup was going to be a real treat, that was certain.

Once she finished browning the roast, she put it in the slow cooker and began the task of chopping up carrots, celery, onions, and fresh garlic. After dumping the pile of veggies into the cooker as well, she turned her attention to the all-important seasonings.

Salt and pepper were a necessity of course, but she also added a bit of Worcestershire sauce to give the roast even more flavor. For fresh herbs, she decided to go with rosemary, basil, and oregano. Last but not least, she added just enough beef broth to partially cover the roast. Once the meat was done cooking, she would pull it apart and add more broth to turn the pot roast into a delicious and hearty stew.

“I’m definitely not going to be losing any weight today,” she said as she put the glass top on the slow cooker. “Between quiches for breakfast, this pot roast stew for lunch, and whatever I end up grabbing for dinner, I might even gain a few pounds.”

“No worries, Ms. D. Our food isn’t that unhealthy,” Dante replied. “It’s all cooked here, so at least you know what’s in it. I can hardly eat anymore at big chain restaurants that start with frozen food.”

“There is something to be said for knowing where your food comes from and what’s in it,” Moira agreed. She thought of Zander, and how passionate he had been about farming and being involved with the community, and felt a rush of despair. Not only had she lost a friend, but he had also been one of her most trusted sources for fresh produce. What would happen to everything he had built now?

Once the deli had officially opened for the morning, Moira spent most of her time hovering around the cash register, waiting for the mysterious kid that had missed her yesterday to return. It wasn’t until nearly noon when he finally showed up. Her shift almost over, the deli owner had ducked back into the kitchen to look through her mail when Dante poked his head through the kitchen doors to tell her that there was someone there to see her.