Murder at MarketFresh E-Book

Doris Hay

• Herausgeber: Rainbow Crush
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

What does it take to solve a murder in a supermarket parking lot? A mischievous husky dog, an entrepreneurial high school student, and a little lasagna lady with a whole lotta heart! When Luella Genova witnesses a hit-and-run in the parking lot of the MarketFresh superstore, it isn’t her first brush with murder. It is, however, the first time she’s witnessed the death of a teen. Grace Tangoco was a determined young woman working three jobs to pay for university. Her classmates and coworkers loved her, and yet nobody knew her all that well. Nobody but her secret boyfriend, who mysteriously disappeared after the hit-and-run. Who could have killed such a kind and hard-working young girl? The police are investigating, sure, but this case can only be cracked by Luella the Lasagna Lady and her business partner Chandelle “Garlic Bread Girl” Jervais. After all, they’re the only two people who know about the teenager’s haunting last words. Book Two in the Lasagna Lady Mysteries series.

Leseprobe

Murder at Marketfresh (Lasagna Lady Mysteries, Book 2)

© 2018 by Doris Hay

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

Cover design © 2018

First Edition 2018

Table of Contents

Copyright Page

Murder at Marketfresh

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

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Murder at Marketfresh

Lasagna Lady Mysteries

Book Two

Doris Hay

Chapter 1

AN EXCEPTIONALLY PREGNANT Nabila sat at Luella’s kitchen table with a curry goat roti in one hand, a mobile phone in the other.  With a lilting British accent, she said, “Mark my words, Luella: this child will be born with fire in her belly.  She’s got me craving all sorts. Pickled asparagus, hot peppers straight from the jar, Moroccan—”

Nabila’s phone rang, and Luella watched her neighbour’s expression change.

When Luella’s husband was alive, he also used to call at a set time every day.  Luella had always known better than to think he wanted to hear about her day.  Gianni only phoned to check up on her, make sure she wasn’t playing host to other men while he was on shift. 

In fact, she’d always found Gianni’s phone calls unsettling.  Even after she’d hung up, she could feel his eyes on her.  The idea of being watched made her feel like a criminal, though she’d done nothing wrong.

“Hallo, husband!” Nabila said cheerily.  A glow overtook her lovely face as she chattered away.

What Luella saw of Nabila’s marriage warmed her heart, encouraged her, but also produced a twinge of petty jealousy.  Forty-two years with Gianni, and she couldn’t recall ever smiling as widely as Nabila.  Two kids in, another on the way, and her neighbours were like newlyweds. 

They didn’t seem to realize how lucky they were.

After Nabila said goodbye, she set her phone on the table and stared at it, her eyes glinting with a mysterious twinkle.  She wore a schoolgirl grin as she sighed, then asked Luella, “What were we talking about?”

“Food cravings.”

“Ah yes.  Moroccan olives. That’s another. But only when paired salted caramel popcorn.”

Luella grimaced.

“You’d be surprised how well they pair.”

“I’d be more than surprised,” Luella said.  “I’d be downright shocked!”

Nabila went on listing pregnancy cravings while Luella built up ricotta layers on her assembly line of lasagnas.  She’d prepared her signature meat lasagna yesterday.  Today the vegetarian took its turn. 

With layers of eggplant, zucchini and roasted red pepper, as well as ricotta, homemade sauce and, of course, the pasta itself, this variety was quickly overtaking the original in popularity, at least for home orders. 

At Meadowlark Retirement Residence, which provided their sole standing catering order, meat lasagna remained the more popular variety.

“Perhaps we could invent some sort of pregnancy cravings lasagna,” Luella said, more to herself than to Nabila.  “Chandelle keeps hounding me to come up with new products.  Two lasagnas do not a business make, she says.”

“That’s young people for you,” Nabila said with a laugh.  “Always chasing after the next big thing.”

Luella chuckled to herself as she built up lasagna layers.  She would easily have classed Nabila as a young person.  True enough, Luella’s business partner Chandelle “Garlic Bread Girl” Jervais was considerably younger—merely a high school student—but she’d been innovative enough to dream up The Lasagna Lady Catering Company and Food Delivery Service out of nothing.

And, after Luella’s nest egg was stolen last autumn, she’d really started to rely on the lasagna business.  Her late husband’s pension didn’t stretch as far as one would imagine.

“It would have to be a custom order,” Nabila said.

“Hmm?”

“A pregnancy cravings lasagna,” the neighbour went on.  “Because, of course, every pregnancy has its own whims.  Did you not find that so with yours?”

Talking about her children wasn’t easy for Luella, and so she remained quiet.

“I never craved hot peppers with the boys,” Nabila said.  “And the other thing about pregnancy cravings is that half the time, it takes too long to find what you want. By the time it’s in front of you, you don’t have a taste for it anymore.”

“True.”

“If you ask me, pregnancy cravings lasagna would be a logistical nightmare.”  Pressing one hand heavily against the kitchen table, Nabila heaved herself up.  “Once more unto the loo, if you’ll excuse me.”

As Nabila waddled toward the stairs, the kitchen phone rang.  

Luella wiped her hands on her apron.  “Hello?”

“Is this the Lasagna Lady?” a young man asked.

“Why, yes it is.”  Scanning the kitchen for a pencil, Luella said, “Hold on just a minute. Let me grab an order form.”

“I’m not calling to place an order,” the man said, rather gruffly for someone who sounded so young.  “This is Jeffrey Faraday, manager of MarketFresh on Weston Road.”

“Oh, how nice!  I know your store well.  I shop there all the time.”  It was all true, but in the back of Luella’s mind she thought it might help to butter him up.  “Are you thinking of stocking our products in your store?”

“Umm... no.”  The question seemed to knock him off-base, but he quickly regained his footing.  In fact, he sounded as though he were reading his lines off a sheet of paper when he said, “I’m calling to ask you to cease and desist from attaching signage to the fencing along the exterior of our parking lot.”

Luella laughed.  “There must be some mistake.  We’re a very small operation, you see.”

“You are the Lasagna Lady?” he confirmed.

“Well, yes, but...”

“I got your number off the signage.”

“What signage?”

“The signs attached to our fence with zip ties,” he said.  “There must be thirty of them—corrugated plastic, professionally done.  Is this ringing any bells?”

“No,” Luella said, feeling exasperated beyond words.  “I can’t imagine who would have...”  Of course she could imagine.  Who else would it be?  “Chandelle.”

“Excuse me?”

“My business partner must have put them up,” Luella explained.  “I’m terribly sorry.”

The young man returned to his script.  “I will ask you to remove the marketing materials attached to our fence within 24 hours or I will be forced to contact the authorities.”

Luella’s heart clenched at the mention of police involvement.  “That really won’t be necessary.  I’ll see that they’re removed.  It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t,” the young man insisted.

As Nabila crept into the kitchen, Luella apologized to the manager of MarketFresh and set the phone into its cradle.

“What was that all about?” Nabila asked.

Luella let out a subdued growl.  “Chandelle!  What else?”

Nabila smirked.  “What’s the girl gone and done?”

“Apparently she’s put up signs advertising the Lasagna Lady all around the MarketFresh parking lot.”

Nabila laughed.  “Brilliant!  Steal away a bit of business from the big guys.  She’s a clever one, that Chandelle.”

“Yes, well, if she were really so clever she’d be saving her money for university instead of spending her share of the profits.”

“In business, you’ve got to spend money to make money.”

“That’s what she says,” Luella grumbled.  “Anyway, I hate to kick you out while you’re still—”  Luella glanced at the balled up paper that had formerly contained curry goat roti.  “Good Glory, Nabila, how did you finish eating that wrap so quickly?  It was huge!”

“I’m telling you, Luella, this child is a bottomless pit.”  She grabbed her hijab, which she’d slung neatly across the back of a kitchen chair, and took it to the hall mirror.  “And don’t worry about kicking me out.  It’s just about time to pick up the boys from school.”

Wistfully, Luella said, “I bet you’ll be glad to have a girl this time around.”

“Not if her appetite keeps up.  This child is likely to eat us out of house and home!”

That’s what she said, but those were just words.  Even as she held pins between her lips, inserting them one by one to hold the teal-coloured fabric in place, Nabila wore a smile that said more than words ever could.

Luella sent her home with lasagna, only after they’d completed their ritual discussion on the topic:

“Please let me pay you this time.”

“No, no.  Your help in the kitchen is worth a thousand lasagnas.”

“Oh, so I grated some cheese.  A monkey could do it.”

After that, Luella shot Nabila a look and Nabila relented, kissing Luella on the cheek by way of thanks. 

Once she’d gone, Luella put the other lasagnas in the fridge, then went down to the basement to grab a pair of wire cutters. They ought to do the trick in detaching zip ties from fencing.  She couldn’t help wondering, though, where Chandelle had gotten the signs printed.  On corrugated plastic?  Must have cost a pretty penny.

And why take the initiative without so much as informing Luella?  They saw each other practically every day.  It’s not like the signs could have slipped the girl’s mind.

“Guess what, Little Miss?” Luella called to her darling dog.  “Extra walkies today!”

Mistletoe rushed to the gate Luella kept across the front room during lasagna production.  Customers very rarely requested fur in their food. With a husky’s thick coat, it took a lot of cleaning to keep the place spic and span.

“You can’t wait to get out in the snow, can you?”  Luella grabbed the leash and hooked it into Mistletoe’s harness.  She’d found out the hard way that huskies can easily escape a mere collar.  “Wire cutters, poo bags... do I have everything?”

Mistletoe waited anxiously by the door.

“Keys,” Luella said.  “That’s right.  We don’t want another break-in, do we?  Not that we have anything worth stealing, do we, girl?  Do we?  No we don’t.”

It had started snowing again, which made for pleasant walking weather.  The air could feel quite frigid otherwise. 

Mistletoe led the way. 

Though they’d only been together a matter of months, the old dog had taken quickly to her new quarters.  Luella had worried, at first, that the pooch would feel depressed.  Coming into a new home later in life, when her former owner moved into Meadowlark Retirement Residence, could be very difficult for a dog.  But, as it turned out, the match was ideal.  Sure puppies were adorable, but who had the energy?  An older dog was more Luella’s speed. 

Mistletoe even looked apologetic every time she did her business, as though she felt sorry for causing Luella to bend over and pick it up.

Mind you, for the good dog she was, Mistletoe did sometimes get it into her head that she’d rather be somewhere else.  Not only that, but she could always find a way to escape.  On this occasion, Luella made it particularly easy for the pooch by dropping her lead while attempting to open one of those tricky plastic bags.

Luella didn’t even notice, at first, that her dog has slipped away.  It wasn’t until after she’d picked up Mistletoe’s leavings that she realized the pup had raced off toward a figure in the distance. 

Good thing they were on a residential street where Mistletoe was less likely to be struck by a vehicle, and where fewer people would see Luella chasing ludicrously after her dog.

“Get back here, Little Miss!  Get back!”

The young girl walking up ahead must have thought Luella was hollering at her, because she turned around just in time to catch sight of Mistletoe flying at her.

“Mistletoe, down!” Luella shouted, jogging to catch up—and wishing she’d kept in better shape over the years.  To the girl, she said, “I’m sorry!  She’s friendly.  She loves people.”

When Luella reached them, the young girl was laughing, thank goodness, and holding Mistletoe’s paws like they were dancing. 

“What a pretty puppy dog,” the girl said to Luella.  “I like how one eye’s blue and one is grey.  That’s so mysterious.”

Despite the cold weather, this young girl wasn’t wearing a hat over her shiny black hair.  What would her mother say to that?  Luella held back from asking whether the girl had one in her bag.  She knew how Chandelle reacted when she said such things, and the girls were probably around the same age.  It was possible they even went to the same school.

“Her name is Mistletoe,” Luella said, grabbing the lead before her dog could scamper away—though, she wasn’t likely to.  She seemed quite taken with the friendly Asian girl in the chic wool jacket.  “She also answers to Little Miss.”

“I love how fuzzy her fur is.”

“Keeps her warm in the winter,” Luella said.  “She loves playing in the snow.”

Looking up into the grey sky, the girl said, “We’re supposed to get ten centimetres overnight.  That should make your puppy dog very happy.”

“Yes, indeed.”

The girl’s politeness reminded Luella of Chandelle.  It warmed her heart.

As the girl released Mistletoe’s paws, Luella thought how encouraging it was that there were still young people around who respected their elders.  This girl didn’t even seem put out that Mistletoe’s white hairs now coated her black jacket.  She simply brushed her front with both hands and went on walking.

It became evident, soon enough, that they were heading in the same direction.  Luella hoped the girl didn’t fear she was being followed. 

Along the way, Luella disposed of her bag of doggie-doo in a public waste receptacle.  As they approached the fence at the far end of the MarketFresh parking lot, she felt somewhat embarrassed about the task at hand.  She hoped the girl would walk a little faster.  She didn’t want to get down to the business of cutting off Chandelle’s wretched signs until there were no witnesses in the vicinity.

Try Lasagna Lady’s

H O M E M A D E

Meat or Vegetarian Lasagna

Catering and Home Delivery

Call [phone]

How humiliating!  Luella’s home phone number splashed all over the parking lot! 

At least there weren’t any vehicles parked on this side of the lot.  This section was quite far away from the store entrance, so it only got used on weekends when the place was particularly busy.  

Perhaps no one but the store manager had seen the signs.

Hooking the loop of Mistletoe’s lead around her wrist, Luella pulled the wire cutters from her coat pocket.  She felt like a criminal, silly as that seemed.  After all, she’d been asked to remove the signage. 

Still, Luella looked around to make sure nobody was watching.  The only other person in the vicinity was the girl who’d danced with Mistletoe.  A girl that age wouldn’t be shopping for groceries, would she?  No, she probably worked at the store.  MarketFresh did tend to hire a lot of teens.

Luella made her way around the fence and cut across the empty portion of the parking lot.  She held her breath as she sliced through the first zip-tie.  She had to put quite a lot of effort into it.  They didn’t come off easily.

She glanced around to make sure no one was watching. 

All the supermarket’s shoppers had had the good sense to park their vehicles in the covered parking on the far side of the store.  A smart move on a day when ten centimeters of snow could fall at any moment. 

Luella hunched down to cut through one of the zip-ties at the base of the sign, and then looked over her shoulder once more.  This time, the shuffle of a curtain drew her gaze to the first-floor window of a townhouse across the way. 

A long-haired man in a Metallica T-shirt was watching her. 

Well, so what?  A hippie like that was hardly likely to care if she was defacing supermarket property.

Suddenly, the long-haired man’s gaze shifted to something in the distance.  Luella wondered what was so interesting. 

She heard the vehicle before she saw it. 

The SUV came out of nowhere, speeding like lightning across the parking lot. 

Luella watched the wheels begin to spin out on the snow-covered asphalt, but they recovered just as fast.  Her first thought was that some hooligan was about to turn donuts around the empty parking lot, but spotted the girl in the black coat and thought better of it. 

Except the driver didn’t stop. 

The engine revved as much as the engine on a SUV possibly could.

Suddenly the vehicle went off like a rocket.

Luella bolted upright, dropping her wire cutters in the snow.

The girl turned to find an SUV coming right at her.  She stuck out her arms.  Both hands when up like a traffic cop gesturing STOP!

The vehicle only went faster.  It collided with the young girl at astonishing speed.  Her small body flew across the front end of the SUV like a scarecrow.  When she met the windshield, her groan dealt Luella’s ears a deafening blow. 

As the car screeched away, Luella stood by the fence, rendered senseless by the violence she’d witnessed.  She heard nothing but a high-pitched squeal, saw nothing but the girl’s bleeding body.  The world seemed so strange.  Body, blood and snow surrounded by tunnels of darkness.

Why was she just standing there doing nothing?  She had to help. 

When Mistletoe tugged at her side, Luella raced her husky to the spot where the young girl lay, legs bent completely the wrong way.  She looked like a doll some wicked child had spent hours torturing. 

Luella fell at her side, not knowing if the girl was dead or alive.

Her eyes flickered.  Luella took her hand.  When her lips moved, the ringing in Luella’s ears subsided long enough to hear the words:

“Don’t tell my dad.”

Tell him what, Luella wondered? 

She squeezed the girl’s hand and said, “I won’t, treasure.  I won’t say a word.”

The girl shook her head weakly, as if she knew Luella didn’t understand.  She smacked her lips, and then said:

“I never loved him back.”

Blood followed the girl’s last words.  Hot and red.  It gushed from her lips and soaked the compacted snow.  Luella wanted to turn away, because she sharp metallic smell made her feel quite ill, but she knew in her gut she was witnessing this poor child’s last moments on earth. She couldn’t abandon the girl now.

Mistletoe sniffed the dear child, licked her cheek. 

A faint smile flickered across the girl’s lips.

“Hold on,” Luella whispered, squeezing the girl’s hand.

The girl was no longer squeezing back.

Luella could see her own hot breath fogging the cold winter air, but none from the young woman’s mouth.  Her eyes remained open, windows to an empty house. 

The soul had fled.

In the distance, Luella heard a man’s voice:

“Charlene, your phone!  Where’s your phone?”

When Luella turned, she was surprised to find the man in the Metallica shirt standing directly behind her.  His voice sounded so far away.  He must have witnessed the accident and come running, because he wore nothing but a T-shirt, boxer shorts and winter boots with the laces undone.

“Call 911, Charlene!  Call now!”

His girlfriend, or whoever Charlene was, came running across the parking lot.  Her shoes had very high heels.  It was a wonder she could walk in them at the best of times, let alone in the dead of winter.  She slid with every step, and struggled to pull her mobile phone from the pocket of her puffy silver-coloured coat.

In no time, Charlene had connected to the emergency dispatcher.  “This girl, she was hit by a car.  Police.  Ambulance.  I don’t know.  I think she might be... well, she’s not moving.”

Luella started backing away on her knees. 

Mistletoe stood over the girl like a stone lion guarding the broken body.

“We’re in the MarketFresh parking lot.  My brother saw it happen.  He was watching out the window, saw the whole thing.”

Brother, not boyfriend.  Luella had been wrong about that.  Though, she did find it odd that a man would lounge around the house in his boxer shorts while his sister was about, but that was hardly a matter to worry over now.

“Are you okay?” the Metallica man asked.

Luella figured he was talking to the dead girl, until he held her elbow to help her to her feet.  That’s when she realized he was asking the question to her.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

Luella tugged gently on Mistletoe’s collar.  She couldn’t take her eyes off the dead girl, even as she walked backward across the parking lot.

Charlene was still talking to emergency dispatch when the young man said, “Ma’am?  The police will want a statement from you.  If you’re cold, you can wait in my house.  It’s right across the street.  Ma’am?”

In the distance, sirens screeched.  Or maybe that was Luella’s imagination.  At any rate, she wasn’t sticking around to find out.  She knew the young man was right.  She owed it to this girl to tell the police exactly what she’d seen.  But the idea of facing the force, the intimidating glare of unflinching men, even just the uniform itself... she couldn’t do it. 

And it would take far too long to tell this young man why.

Chapter 2

“I’M FREEZING MY BUTT off,” Chandelle called across the front yard.  “Where have you been?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Luella replied, her voice as cool as the mid-winter air. 

“If you’re going to be gallivanting all afternoon, you should at least give me a key.  Now our deliveries will all be late, and I’m the one who has to deal with customer complaints.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Luella grumbled.

Chandelle rose from the front porch stairs.  Mistletoe sniffed the long wool coat her parents had given her for Christmas.  Chandelle looked sharp, as always.  Her plaid scarf and faux-sheepskin hat accentuated the camel colour of her jacket, gloves and boots.  If you didn’t look her in the face, you’d take Chandelle for a businesswoman in her twenties or thirties.  Only her cute smile and the acne bumps marring her dark brown complexion gave her away as a girl of sixteen. 

Luella had never encountered another teenager quite like Chandelle, but that was her business partner in a nutshell: a little bit different in a whole lot of ways.

When Luella unlocked the door, Chandelle gasped, pointing at the smears of blood that had soaked into the cuff of her cream-coloured parka.  “Oh my gosh, Luella, what happened to your arm?”

Luella didn’t answer.  If she started talking about what had just happened, she’d surely break down in front of the girl.  No use showing weakness.  Plus, Chandelle was likely to call that friend she had in the police, Officer Tariq, the LGBT Liaison Officer who’d investigated death threats against the girl back when she had some kind of web show about growing up transgender.  And, sure, Officer Tariq seemed like a nice enough man, but police officers could alter their personalities to suit any occasion.  Just because he’d shown Luella kindness and consideration when they’d met at a funeral didn’t mean he would behave in a similar fashion while investigating a crime.

“Is that blood?” Chandelle asked as they entered the house.  “Oh my gosh, it’s on Mistletoe too!  What happened?”

A streak of anger burst through Luella’s body like lightning, and she went with it because anger felt better than tears.  “You want to know what happened?  I got a telephone call from the manager at MarketFresh, that’s what happened!  He told me to cease and desist from strapping signs to the fence around their parking lot.”

Chandelle’s eyes widened.  An impish smirk crossed her lips.  “Oops.”

“Oops is right, and wipe that grin off your face, young lady.  He told me he would call the police if I didn’t remove them within twenty-four hours.  How do you think I felt about that?”

“I’m sorry,” Chandelle said, her expression more serious now, because she knew how Luella felt about the police.  “I thought it would be a good place to advertise, that’s all.  People have food on the brain when they’re heading to the supermarket.”

Luella slipped off her boots and shuffled out of her soiled parka.  It wasn’t until she’d unclipped the lead from Mistletoe’s collar that she realized her hands were sticky with the dead girl’s blood.  “Good Glory!”

“Luella, you’re bleeding!”  Chandelle grabbed hold of Luella’s hand to investigate.  “Did you cut yourself taking down the signs?”