Chapter 6
“Did you find him?” Cindy asked me as I walked into the bookstore. The expression she gave me for just a moment was really strange. For a second, I wasn’t sure if she was hoping that I’d tracked the chef down or wishing that he was gone for good.
“He’s at the Slice even as we speak. That reminds me,” I said as I grabbed my cell phone. “I’ve got to call Maddy and tell her that she can come back.”
“You don’t need to. She’s already here,” Cindy said, pointing to the mystery section, where my sister had her nose in what I saw was the latest brand-new Death on Demand book from Carolyn Hart. I knew that Mrs. Hart was one of her favorites, and every time she published a new book, Maddy was there.
I walked up behind my sister and said, “Okay, there is no way that you knew I found Benet, and yet here you are ahead of me.”
Nothing. No reaction at all from her.
I touched her shoulder lightly. “Maddy, did you hear me?” What?” she asked, looking up from the book and putting her finger on a line to hold her place. At least she was making eye contact now. While I had her attention, I asked, “What happened to you?”
It was clear that my sister barely registered my presence, and I had a feeling that nothing I said could break through Mrs. Hart’s spell. Maddy waved me away as though I were a gnat. “Hey, I tried, but I couldn’t find him, so I came back here to see if he’d turned up on his own,” she said, barely acknowledging my presence. “Why are you here?” She glanced around the room, and then added, “I don’t see Benet around. You should keep looking.” And then she went back to her book, forgetting that I was even in the room, let alone that we’d just been talking.
I knew she wasn’t listening to me. “He was on the cannon, trying to do a jig. The poor man fell off three times before he managed to stay up on it for more than ten seconds.”
“That’s nice,” she said as she continued to read.
“He wants to buy me out and run the pizzeria himself, so we have to be out of the Slice by five.”
“Sure, yes, I get it.” Three seconds later, she nearly dropped the book in her hands. “What did you just say?”
“I was just trying to get your attention,” I said with a smile.
Maddy frowned at me. “That’s not very nice, Eleanor.” She took the book up to Cindy, and I decided to follow her.
“I’d like to buy this, please,” Maddy said.
“We’re not ready for sales yet,” Cindy said, and then turned to her mother. “Mom? Can we go ahead and make a sale?”
Janet, Cindy’s mom, was working on the register with a tech of some sort. “Not yet. We need a few minutes before we’ll be able to do that.”
“I don’t mind waiting,” Maddy said, clutching the novel as though it contained the secrets of the universe.
“Probably all week,” I added. “I have a feeling that my sister isn’t leaving this bookstore until she owns that book.”
“It’s not just that. I want the privilege of being the first customer,” Maddy said.
“How sweet of you,” Cindy said.
“We’ve got it,” her mother said as the technician stood. “We’re ready now.”
Maddy smiled, pushed the book across the wooden counter, and said, “I’d like this, please.”
My sister put two twenties down alongside the novel, and as Cindy’s mom made change, she took a single from the register and handed it her daughter.
“What’s this for?”
“This is a big moment in any small business person’s life. It’s the first dollar you earned here,” her mother said. “You should frame it and put it in your office.”
“I just hope this isn’t all I make,” Cindy said, though she pocketed the bill nonetheless.
Her mother smiled softly at her. “You’ll be fine, Cynthia. This town has needed a good bookstore for years. You’re filling a real need around here.”
Cindy just shrugged. “Let’s hope you’re right.” After Maddy got her book, her change, a receipt, and a bag with the Bookmark’s logo on it, she was happy as could be.
“Hey, Sis, don’t forget. We’re here to work, too, remember?”
“Of course I do,” Maddy said. “Let me just tuck this under my jacket and put it somewhere, and I’ll be ready to help.” She did as she promised, and then looked around the store. “Where is Prince Charming, anyway? You did find him, didn’t you?”
“The last time I saw him, he was at the Slice grumbling about the world,” I said. I glanced at my watch and saw that we were fifteen minutes away from the presentation. As I did, Cindy said loudly to the folks there working, “If I could have your attention, please. First, I want to thank you all for your help this past week. I couldn’t have done it without you, so give yourselves a round of applause.”
Everyone did as they were asked, though I thought Maddy’s applause were a little too boisterous. Once everyone settled down, Cindy said, “In one minute, I’m going to let them in. We need to finish putting the chairs out, and get rid of the last box. Thanks again.”
She looked as though she might be starting to cry, and I could sympathize with her. It was an emotional time, and if she couldn’t let a tear out now, her heart would have had to be made of stone.
Cindy walked to the door, opened it, and then said to the crowd gathered outside, “Welcome to the Bookmark. The demonstration with world renowned Chef Benet will begin in ten minutes, so come in, find a seat, and get ready to have some fun.”
A crowd of over three dozen was waiting, three-quarters women and a quarter men. They came in one rush, taking the seats they thought would offer the best view of the chef’s demonstration. Say what you will about the man, but it was clear that he had a legion of his very own fans. Maddy and I stood in back, not to get a particularly good view, but to get as far away from Benet as we could and still be in the building.
To my great surprise, Chief Hurley walked into the bookshop and headed straight to me.
Oh, no. What had I done, or neglected to do, this time?
I decided a preemptive strike might be in order. “Hey, Chief, I didn’t know you were a fan of cooking shows.”
“Are you kidding me? They’re the best thing on television these days,” he said.
“Really? I never would have figured you for a foodie. Why’s that?”
“They put me to sleep every night,” he said with a slight smile.
What an odd thing to say if he truly were a fan. “If you really feel that way, then why are you here?” I asked.
“Truth be told, I’m looking for my son,” he said. As one of my employees, Josh Hurley had been a bone of contention between the two of us ever since he’d come to work for me at the Slice. Kevin had never been particularly happy about it, and when I found myself in trouble time and time again, the chief of police did everything he could to distance his boy from me.
I looked around the room, knowing that I’d seen Josh slip in with the crowd just a few minutes earlier. “He’s over there,” I said as I pointed to him where he was hanging out with Greg and talking to a pretty young woman who was working behind the coffee counter.
“Good,” he said, but before he could join Josh, I touched his sleeve lightly and asked, “You’re not going to embarrass him, are you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on, Kevin. He’s clearly enjoying talking to that girl. I thought you might want to give him a little space.”
The police chief shook his head. “Eleanor, you don’t need to protect my son from me. I won’t give him a hard time. I just need to ask him something.”
I just shook my head, but it was all I needed.
The chief’s good mood was quickly dissipating. “What is it? If you’ve got something to say, just spit it out.”
“Remember when your dad came to school to give you your lunch money when we were in high school?” Kevin and I had been dating then, and the whole school had spent two weeks waving five dollar bills at him and laughing.
Kevin frowned. “Okay, you’ve got a point. Listen, why don’t you do it for me, then? Ask him if he ever found his car keys. The last time I saw him, he was tearing up the house searching for them.”
“He must have found them, because I saw him driving today,” I said. “When did he lose them?”
“Last night,” the chief said.
“There you go. Case solved.” I looked over and saw that Josh spotted us talking. His face reddened slightly, and he quickly turned away from us. Kevin must have caught it, too.
“When did I become my old man?” he asked wistfully.
“You haven’t, and you won’t,” I said sympathetically. “We both know that you’re nothing like him.”
“Thanks for that,” Kevin said, clearly meaning it. His father hadn’t been the best dad in the world, but he hadn’t been the worst, either. I guess we all see things from our own perspective, and in Kevin’s mind, his dad had not been someone he wanted to emulate. George was still around town, and still giving his son a hard time every time he saw him, despite the fact that Kevin had a serious job with grave responsibilities. I would have loved to have my own father alive. We’d had a bond that had been unbreakable, and I missed him most days, but not as much as I missed Joe, though both men had been cut from the same cloth. While David Quinton wasn’t like either one of them physically, he had shared the two most important traits they’d had, the two that mattered the most to me: they had both possessed truly kind hearts, and they’d both had a funny, if skewed, sense of humor.
Kevin looked around the shop at the crowd of people waiting for the demonstration, and then said, “Cindy’s getting close to an occupancy violation here.”
Leave it to the cop to look for trouble where there wasn’t any. “You’re not going to shut her down, are you?”
“What?” he asked, clearly startled by my question. “No, of course not. I know what this means to her. I’ll say something to her if too many more people try to jam in here, but it’s going to take a whole lot more than this to make me do anything to stand between her and her dream.”
“Thanks,” I said, touching his arm lightly. “It’s nice to know that there’s still a heart beating under that uniform.”
He shook his head a little sadly. “Eleanor, it’s my job to uphold the law, but there’s a difference between arresting an armed robber and breaking up someone’s grand opening party. I’m not a complete ogre, you know.”
“I know,” I said. “Sometimes I forget, though.”
Kevin just shrugged. “It’s a tough job, I’m the first one to admit that. Sometimes I let it get to me, no matter how much I try not to let it.”
Wow, that was the most emotionally revealing thing I’d ever heard Kevin say since he’d told me that he loved me. Of course, that was after I caught him cheating on me, but still. It was nice to know that there was still a part of that boy in this man today. Maddy drifted over to us, and Kevin took the opportunity to leave us, no doubt in search of Cindy to let her know that the crowd was getting a little too large.
“Was it something I said?” Maddy asked with a grin as she watched him retreat into the store.
“No, why do you ask?”
“If it was, I want to remember what it was the next time I need it,” she replied with a grin. “He took off like a shot, didn’t he?”
“It wasn’t you. He had to talk to Cindy.”
Maddy nodded, and then looked around the room. “This is some grand opening party, isn’t it?”
“Cindy could have done a lot worse.” I glanced at my watch, and saw that Benet was now four minutes late. “Where is the chef, anyway?”
“He’s probably waiting to make a grand entrance, no doubt,” Maddy said. “The man is a born diva if ever there was one.”
Cindy came over to us a few seconds later, a worried expression on her face. I had a pretty good idea what that was about.
“Don’t worry. He’s not going to shut you down,” I said, trying to offer her a little comfort. It was hard to imagine how Kevin had couched his warning to her, and clearly it had upset her.
It only served to confuse her, though. “What? Why would he do that? I don’t get it.”
“Neither one of you is making the slightest bit of sense,” Maddy said. She looked at Cindy and asked, “Who exactly are you talking about?”
“Who else? Chef Benet, of course,” Cindy said. “He should have been here by now. Why, what were you talking about, Eleanor?” she asked as she looked at me.
“The police chief was worried about your occupancy rate,” I admitted. “Didn’t he say something to you about that?”
Cindy nodded, still clearly distracted by the chef’s absence. “Yes, and we’re going to open the doors so folks can still hear him from in front of the shop. It’s not going to be a problem, though. There’s not going to be anything to hear unless we get him over here.”
“Send his assistant over to the pizzeria to fetch him,” I said, as I pointed to Oliver, who was in a deep conversation with Jessie Taylor.
“He’s tied up,” Cindy said as she looked toward them.
“Then send his wife,” I said as I looked around for Patrice. “I don’t see her, but she can’t be far off.”
“Would you do it?” Cindy asked me.
“I suppose I could,” I said reluctantly. I couldn’t wait until this was over, so in a way, finding Benet was in my favor. The quicker he gave his talk, the faster I could reopen my pizzeria and get life back to some semblance of being normal.
“Thank you,” Cindy gushed, and disappeared back into the crowd. I had to wonder if one of the reasons she’d left so abruptly was to steal my opportunity to change my mind.
I grabbed Maddy’s arm and started pulling her toward the door.
“Hey, I don’t have to go, too, do I?” she protested.
“Sorry, it’s your sisterly duty,” I answered.
“How did you come up with that? It’s not exactly playing fair, is it?”
“Hey, blame the sister’s handbook,” I said with a smile as we left the bookshop. “If I have to tackle that arrogant jerk by myself, I might not trust myself to behave.”
“In that case, I’m definitely coming,” Maddy said. “Could I hang back and watch the fireworks?”
“Come on,” I said. We got away from the crowd and started walking down the promenade to the Slice. The crowd thinned to nothing by the time we were in front of the pizzeria, and I wondered if I shouldn’t try some kind of promotional gimmick myself to drum up a little business sometime. We could certainly use the income, and the exposure, too.
I reached into my purse for my key, only to realize that I’d loaned mine to Chef Benet.
“I need your key, Maddy,” I said.
She was staring into the big window up front, and I had to repeat myself to get her attention. “Maddy? Did you hear me?”
“That’s kind of odd, isn’t it?” she asked as she kept looking inside.
“What?” I asked, trying to see around her.
“Is that Benet? He’s just sitting at a table with his back to us.”
“Maybe it’s part of his process,” I said.
“Do you think?”
“Who knows?” I asked. “Give me your key so we can get him and get this thing going.”
Maddy handed me her key ring, and I found the right key and opened the door. As I handed her keys back to her, I said loudly, “Come on, Chef, you’re late.”
He didn’t respond to my voice. In fact, he didn’t even move a muscle.
“Chef, it’s time,” I said, this time more forcefully than before.
I suddenly had had enough of his prima donna attitude. I put a hand on his shoulder and shook him a little. “Enough with the attitude. Let’s go, buster. You’re keeping everyone waiting.”
And then I looked over his shoulder and saw one of my kitchen knives sticking in his chest all the way to its hilt.
I felt his neck, but not only was there no pulse, his skin was eerily cold to the touch.
“Get the police chief, Maddy,” I said. “Someone murdered Chef Benet.”