Bacon Cheddar Murder: Book 2 in Papa Pacelli's Pizzeria Series Page 5

  Jacob and Rose, who tried a slice of the pizza when she arrived a few minutes later, were fans of it. Ellie grinned when Rose told her that it would be even better with thin crust. Ellie was glad. Both employees had been here longer than she had, and despite their young age, she valued their opinions. They knew the customers better than she did, so she was prepared to take them at their word when they said the pizza would be a hit. But she’d stick with the thick crust for a while.

  Ellie volunteered to stay in the kitchen for the first part of the day, letting Rose take what was generally regarded as the best job—watching the register—while Jacob handled deliveries. It was an unusually busy day for a Monday, and Ellie was on a roll. She had finally gotten to the point where she knew how to make most of the pizzas without checking the recipe binder, which she was quite proud of.

  Despite the fact that she enjoyed cooking, the heat from the ovens was decidedly unpleasant. She understood why her employees complained about it so much, and why working the register was so popular, so she was surprised when Rose came into the kitchen an hour before they were due to switch spots.

  “There’s a lady out front that wants to see you, Ms. Pacelli. I think she’s a reporter or something,” the young woman said, flicking her long hair back over her shoulder and eyeing the hairnets hanging on the wall with resignation. “She’s got a notebook and stuff, so it’ll probably take a while. I’ll start working back here, I guess.”

  “Thanks, Rose,” Ellie said, removing her own hairnet and heading over to the sink to wash her hands. “You can have an extra hour up front later this evening if you want.”

  After she cleaned herself up a bit, she pushed through the swinging kitchen door to the dining area. She was expecting to see Shannon, so she was completely shocked to see another woman, especially one that she didn’t recognize.

  “Hi, I’m Chloe McCullough, reporter for the Kittiport Times,” she said, extending her hand. “You must be Ellie Pacelli?”

  “I really prefer Eleanora, though most people call me Ellie,” Ellie said, shaking the other woman’s hand. “How can I help you?”

  “I’m investigating the murder of Anthony Reeves and trying to figure out how it ties in with an incident involving bad fish from a few months ago,” the reporter said. “Shannon is a colleague of mine, and I know you two are close. I was wondering if you might have some insight into what happened?”

  “I… I don’t, sorry. I don’t know anything more than anyone else,” Ellie said. She bit her lip, knowing that she wasn’t telling the full truth. She had spoken to Shannon privately a few times, of course, and there was also the news about the body being found… but surely if the sheriff wanted that to be public knowledge, he would have put it in the paper.

  “Well,” the reported said, sounding disappointed. “I’m sorry to hear that. The people of Kittiport deserve to read the truth, Ms. Pacelli. But the truth seems elusive in this case.”

  She has a point, Ellie thought as she watched Chloe leave. No one seems to know what happened, or why. Did I do the right thing by turning her away? Or would talking to her have helped shed light on some answers at last?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Ellie was about to go back into the kitchen to give Rose her last hour up front at the register when the bell above the door jingled and someone she recognized came in. It took her a moment to realize why the man was so familiar.

  “You,” she said before she could help herself when she realized who it was. “You’re the guy who spilled fish on my grandmother and me at the marina the other day.”

  “Technically, that was my assistant,” the man said with a sheepish grin. “But still, I suppose I owe you an introduction. Shawn Franks, at your service.”

  “Eleanora Pacelli,” Ellie said. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

  “Same,” he said. “So, do you own this joint?”

  “My grandfather did, and I suppose now my grandmother does,” she told him. “I just run it. Anyway… what can I get you? We’ve got a lunch combo going on until two. Two slices and a drink from the fridge for six dollars.”

  “Yeah, I’ll take that if you’ve got Hawaiian,” he said.

  “Sure do. It’ll be just a minute.”

  She rang him up and ducked into the kitchen to tell Rose his order. While she was back there she heard the bell above the door jingle again, marking yet another customer. We’re really busy today, she thought, smiling to herself. She returned to the register to find Clara standing in line behind Shawn with Clayton, the delivery guy, at her side.

  “I’m surprised to see you here on your day off,” she told her employee. “Nice to see you again, by the way, Clayton.”

  “This is the best pizza place in town,” Clara pointed out. “Do you expect us to eat at Cheesaroni Calzones?”

  “You’ve got a point,” Ellie said with a smile.

  “How’d you like that bacon cheddar cheese, Ms. P?” Clayton asked.

  “It was great, actually,” she told him. “I used it in some buffalo dip, and I tried it out on a pizza this morning. I’ll be adding it to our next order.”

  “Awesome,” he said with a grin.

  The kitchen door opened and Rose handed a small box over to Ellie. “Two slices of Hawaiian,” she said.

  “Here you go, Mr. Franks,” Ellie said, handing the box off to the fisherman. “Go ahead and grab your drink out of the fridge. Have a nice lunch.”

  Rose waited until the customer had left, then turned to Clara with her eyebrows raised. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Why does everyone keep asking that?” the bushy-haired young woman asked, exasperated. “I’m not allowed to visit when I’m not scheduled for a shift? I happen to be a paying customer at the moment. I ordered a barbecue chicken pizza about half an hour ago.”

  “That was you? I thought the last name was familiar. It’s ready—it’s in the warming rack. Hold on, I’ll go get it.”

  The blonde woman vanished back into the kitchen, still shaking her head as if unable to believe the fact that someone would actually choose to come into work on a day that they didn’t have to. Ellie chuckled. She and her three employees had gotten off to a bumpy start, but now that she had gotten a chance to know them, she found that she honestly liked each of them.

  “Do you have a bathroom?” Clayton asked her suddenly.

  “Oh, yeah. It’s that door next to the drinks fridge. We just haven’t gotten the new sign for it yet,” she told him.

  “Thanks.”

  He had just shut the door when Rose returned, carrying the pizza. She glanced around the dining area and, seeing that Clayton wasn’t in the room, leaned across the counter conspiratorially.

  “Are you two… dating?” the young woman asked her friend in a low voice. Ellie couldn’t help but listen in, and had to admit that she was curious about the answer herself.

  “Sort of,” Clara said back, keeping her own voice low. “He just asked me out last night. We’re hanging out today, and we’re having dinner at the White Pine Kitchen on Thursday at eight.”

  “Nice,” Rose said, drawing out the word and giving a low whistle. “He’s cute. Who does he work for again? Is it his uncle or his brother?”

  “His uncle,” Clara said. “He owns East Coast Delivery and Cold Storage. It’s a mouthful, but I guess they’ve got branches all over Maine. It seems like a pretty successful business. Clayton makes good money, and all he has to do is drive that truck around and deliver stuff.”

  “That sounds pretty easy. Maybe I should think about switching jobs.” Rose seemed to suddenly realize that her boss was standing just feet away, and quickly backpedaled. “Just kidding, Ms. Pacelli. I mean, I love working here.”

  Ellie gave the girl a mock frown, then grinned. “I know you do, Rose, don’t worry,” she said, struggling not to laugh. To Clara, she added, “Good luck on your date. I hope everything goes well for the two of you. He seems like a nice guy.”

  “Thanks, Ms. Pa
celli,” Clara said, blushing.

  The bathroom door opened and Clayton rejoined them, casting a suspicious look over the two young women when they both burst into fits of laughter.

  “What did I miss?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Clara said, grinning. “Come on, let’s get going. I’m starved.”

  Rose shook her head as the young couple walked out the door together. “Can you believe that?” she asked. “I’m a little bit jealous. Clayton is cute.”

  “I think he and Clara go very well together,” Ellie said. “Don’t worry, you’ll find someone, too.”

  “You think?” the young woman chewed on her lip, still gazing at the door. “I dunno. All of the guys I’ve dated lately have been jerks.”

  “It just takes time to find the right person,” she told her employee. “But I think there’s someone out there for everyone.”

  “You really believe that?”

  Ellie thought for a moment. “Yeah, I suppose I do,” she said at last. “But in the meantime, we’ve got work to do. I’ll head back into the kitchen for another hour like I promised, but I want you to sweep the floors and wash the windows while you’re out front.”

  “Maybe I should become a delivery driver,” Rose grumbled as she headed towards the supply closet. “You don’t have to sweep trucks.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ellie woke to laughter early the next morning. Utterly confused, she sat up in bed and blinked. Bunny was still curled up on the pillow next to her, soundly asleep; although how she could be sleeping through that racket was anyone’s guess. The sounds of hysterical laughter increased to a pitch that she realized could only be produced by one member of the household: Marlowe.

  “What is going on with that bird?” she muttered. At Ellie’s words, the dog next to her perked up, and began wagging her tail. She sighed. She knew that even if Marlowe fell quiet, there would be no getting back to sleep now that Bunny was awake, too. It looked like it was just going to have to be an early morning for her.

  She got out of bed, put on her robe and slippers, and opened the bedroom door. The papillon darted down the stars ahead of her. Ellie followed more slowly, still feeling groggy with sleep. As she descended the stairway and came into view of the birdcage, the red macaw fell silent.

  “What was so funny?” Ellie asked, moving over to stand in front of the cage. “Since when do you laugh, anyway?”

  “Blame your grandfather,” a voice behind her said. Startled, Ellie spun around to see her grandmother sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall by the hallway to the study.

  “Nonna, what happened? Are you okay?” Ellie rushed over to the old woman and crouched down next to her.

  “I’m fine. I just stumbled and fell, and haven’t been able to find the energy to get myself up yet. Probably because I spent a good five minutes trying to hush that jungle chicken.”

  “She was laughing because you fell?” she asked, horrified. Her grandmother looked mildly ashamed.

  “No. I, er, may have let slip a curse word when I hit my hip on the way down. Back when she was younger, Marlowe picked up a few choice words from your grandfather and he thought it was the funniest thing, so he would laugh whenever she said them. Then she started laughing whenever he—or anyone else—cursed. The bird doesn’t swear any more, thank heavens, but she still laughs like a maniac when she hears someone else do it.”

  “I’ve got to admit, that sounds like it would be pretty amusing,” Ellie said with a chuckle. “Come on, let’s get you up. Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so. Maybe a bit sore.”

  With her granddaughter’s aid, the elderly woman made it to her feet. She put a hand on the wall for support and looked down at herself.

  “Well, nothing’s broken,” she said. “Thanks for that, my dear. Sorry we woke you.”

  “Don’t be sorry—you should have called out for me,” Ellie admonished. “I’m here to help, you know.”

  She let her grandmother lean on her as they walked to the kitchen, then started making a pot of coffee, continuing to shoot surreptitious looks at the elderly woman while she ran the grinder. It struck her just how old her nonna was getting. She was at the age where a simple fall like that could be very serious. What if I hadn’t been here to help her? Ellie wondered. What if she falls again sometime while I’m at work, and breaks something? The idea made her nervous, but she knew that her grandmother would brush off any attempts at a serious talk about her health. With a sigh, she set a mug of coffee down in front of her grandmother and grabbed the cream and sugar for her, as well as a silver spoon.

  “I need to take Bunny outside,” she said. “But when we get in I want to run some ideas by you, okay?”

  She shifted on her feet, watching the little dog nose her way through the dew-covered grass. It was a chilly morning, and she was wishing that she had worn something warmer than her sleeping clothes and bathrobe outside. The trees stood a few yards away, dark and looming, making her uncomfortable. Anyone could be in there right now, watching me, she thought with a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. I really hope that Sheriff Ward and his deputies catch Anthony’s killer soon. As she stared at the forest, which was part of a large state park, the thought came to her that Anthony Reeves’ murder couldn’t have been the first one that those trees had seen. A forest that old must have witnessed a whole host of crimes. She wondered how many people had gone missing in there, never to be found.

  “You need to stop thinking like that, Eleanora Pacelli,” she said out loud. The shadows between the trees were beginning to look even more unfriendly than they had before. She was freaking herself out, which wouldn’t lead to anything good. “Come on, Bunny. Let’s go inside.”

  She turned to see her grandmother standing at the sliding porch door with the landline in her hand, and her face pale.

  “It’s for you,” the elderly woman said when Ellie opened the door. “Come on, Bunny, let’s go get you some breakfast and let your mom talk on the phone.”

  Ellie put the phone to her ear as her grandmother and the dog left the room. “Hello?”

  “Ellie, it’s me,” Shannon’s familiar voice said. She sounded hoarse, as if she were sick or had been crying. “I know it’s really early, but I thought you should know… someone else has been killed. Another reporter. Someone I work with. Her name was Chloe. She was found just outside of town… on the side of the road. About two hours ago.”

  “Oh my goodness,” she breathed, sitting down as what her friend was saying hit her. “I saw her yesterday. She stopped in at the pizzeria, trying to get me to do an interview with her. I’m so sorry, Shannon.”

  “I just can’t believe that she’s gone.” Shannon took a deep breath. “I think my boss is going to try to set up a vigil for her tomorrow night. If she does, will you come? You might have been one of the last people to see her alive, and since you were also there when Anthony died… well, I think it would be fitting. Plus, I could use the support.”

  “Of course. Whatever you need. I’m here for you.” Ellie looked out the window towards the woods, then squeezed her eyes shut. How many more people would die before the killer was caught?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Getting ready for the vigil was a somber affair. Ellie, who didn’t have anything remotely appropriate in her own closet, put on a long black skirt of her grandmother’s, along with the black blouse that she had worn to dinner at Shannon’s just a couple of nights ago. Her hair was pulled up into a simple bun, and she kept her makeup to the bare minimum. When she walked downstairs, her grandmother gave her a once-over, wringing her hands.

  “I wore that skirt to your grandfather’s funeral,” she said softly, half to herself. She cleared her throat. “It’s a terrible thing, two deaths so close together. I can’t imagine anyone taking one human life, let alone two. You be safe, all right, dear?”

  “You, too,” Ellie said, giving her grandmother a hug. “Lock the doors, and keep your cellphone ha
ndy in case you fall again. I know—you’re fine. Just do it to humor me, okay? I don’t want a repeat of yesterday.”

  She bent down to scratch Bunny behind the ears, said a quick goodbye to Marlowe, and then let herself out the door. She wasn’t looking forward to the vigil, but putting it off wouldn’t make her feel any better.

  “Thanks for coming,” Shannon said. “More people showed up than I expected.”

  “It is pretty busy,” Ellie said, looking around the parking lot. Nearly every space was full, and the paths in the park were crowded.

  In the center of the small park was a gazebo, which had been filled with electric candles and photos of both Chloe and Anthony. The two women headed toward the display, passing quiet people dressed in mournful colors. It was oddly quiet. Ellie couldn't remember the last time she had seen a crowd so silent. She was both amazed and touched at the turnout. Kittiport truly was a small, tightly knit community. She realized that most of these people had either known one or both of the deceased, or were friends with someone who did. Nearly everyone would have read Chloe’s articles in the paper week after week. She didn’t know what Anthony’s job had been, but his family—his wife and two little girls—would be around here somewhere as well.

  Does it make them feel better, she wondered, seeing all of the people gathered here in support? Or does it make their grief come back in full force, seeing reminders of his death everywhere? Her throat felt thick and sore, as if she were about to start crying. These two murders had been so senseless. She could only hope that the killer was done now, and no one else’s picture would be put in the gazebo.

  “I don’t want to stay long,” her friend said, sticking close to her side. “I just felt like I should come, since I was the last person to see Anthony alive, and I knew Chloe from work. I feel like it’s somehow my fault. If only I hadn’t been trying to dig up more information on that fish story.”

  “It’s not your fault at all, Shannon,” Ellie told the other woman. “There’s only one person who’s responsible for all of this—and that’s the man that killed them. Blaming yourself won’t help anything. Blame him.”