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The Missing Dough(27)

By:Chris Cavender


That was also when we opened, and I saw by my clock that I had four minutes until it was time to unlock the front door. “You’d better hurry up, then. You’re going to miss class.”

“Sorry, Mom. I’m leaving right now,” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice.

I didn’t even get the chance to answer before he hung up on me.

“What did he say?” Maddy asked.

“They were married, but they’re separated now. I wonder if Grant had anything to do with that.”

“Let me just say that it wouldn’t surprise me if he had,” she said. “What should we do next?”

I pointed to the clock. “Sorry, but our investigating time is over. We have to open the Slice now.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m kind of looking forward to serving a little pizza and soda. It might help take my mind off what a nightmare my life has become lately.”

“Don’t worry, Sis,” I said as I hugged her. “We’ll figure this out.”

“I hope so,” she said.

“In the meantime, let’s sell some pizza. What do you say?”

“Open the doors, Eleanor. I’m ready for whatever comes our way today.”

Only she wasn’t.

To be fair, neither was I, but I had no idea what I was letting myself in for when I unlocked the front door of my pizzeria.

But it didn’t take long for me to find out.





Chapter 7

“I figured I’d find you hiding in here,” a woman who looked vaguely familiar to me said to Maddy as soon as we opened the door for business. She was pretty enough in an angular kind of way, and it was clear from the first moment she walked through the door that she thought she was better than anyone who dared look in her direction. The brunette brushed past me as though I were nothing but a doorman and headed straight for my sister. “Why did you have to kill him? You already got what you wanted. You somehow managed to brainwash my mother and my brother, but you never fooled me, not once.”

“Hello, Rebecca. I’m sorry for your losses,” Maddy told the woman, who was clearly none other than Grant’s sister. There was no doubt in my mind that she was also the one who’d nearly caught us snooping around at Sharon Whitmore’s home earlier that day, but I wasn’t about to bring that up.

“Save your phony condolences for someone who doesn’t know you, Maddy,” Rebecca snapped.

“Listen, maybe it would be a good idea for you to leave,” I said as I started trying to shepherd her out of the restaurant. Even though no one was there yet, I still didn’t want her attacking Maddy at the Slice.

“You can’t make me go anywhere,” she said angrily.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I said as I pointed to a sign behind the cash register. I’d had it installed after a particularly ugly visit a few months before, and it was plain and simple, declaring that I reserved the right to refuse service to anyone I chose to, whenever I pleased, without having any particular reason at all. I hadn’t had to use it yet, but I had a hunch that it was about to come in handy. “In case you were wondering who that’s referring to, at the moment it means you.”

“Eleanor Swift, this doesn’t concern you, so I’d appreciate it if you’d mind your own business.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. When it comes to my sister, everything is my business.”

Maddy spoke up. “Eleanor, I can handle her.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” I said. I took a few steps back, but there was no way that I was going to leave the dining room. It was hard to tell what might happen if I did that.

“I’m positive,” Maddy said.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself,” Rebecca said. “I asked you a question, and I expect an answer. Why did you kill Grant? He was out of your life. There was no need to stab him with that skewer.”

“I didn’t stab him, and neither did Bob Lemon,” Maddy said. She was trying to keep her cool, but I could see the red coming into her cheeks.

“If your supposed fiancé did it, it was still because of you. You might not have plunged that steel through his heart, but that doesn’t mean that you weren’t a part of it.” She fumbled into her oversized purse and pulled out a piece of paper. “For the first time in your life, do the decent thing and sign this.”

I glanced over Maddy’s shoulder and saw that it was another quitclaim deed, just like the one Grant had forged the day before.

“What is it with you two?” Maddy demanded, losing the last bit of her restraint. “So what if Sharon left me some slides, a few teacups, and some other knickknacks? I know she was your mother, but she was my friend, too, and if she wanted me to have some worthless dishware and a few slides that you and Grant hated, I can’t see why you feel the need to keep me from getting them.”