No Parm No Foul, page 26
“Holly, you made a mistake and you learned from it,” Carly soothed. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Are you going to keep the sub shop?”
“I am, but I’ve decided to give it a total makeover. My dad’s life insurance money will help.” She laughed slightly, and her eyes lit up. “By the time I’m through, it’ll be a whole new sandwich place. I might even change the name. Portia wants to partner with me, but since she’s big on franchising, I think I’m going to decline. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a super person. I just don’t think we’d be good business partners.”
“I have faith in whatever choice you make,” Carly said.
“After I left the lawyer’s office today, I visited my grandmother. Oh Carly, she was sooo happy to see me. Instead of doing a quickie visit, I stayed and chatted with her for quite a while. Sometimes her mind floats into the past, but that’s okay. I know her days are numbered, so I want to spend as much time with her as I can.”
“Gosh, that makes my day,” Carly said sincerely.
Holly’s voice softened. “Um, I also wanna thank you for what you did yesterday. It makes me sick to know that all this time, that Stanley Henderson guy was Dad’s killer.” She shuddered. “And to think I served him grilled cheese like he was a normal person.”
Most killers seem normal, Carly thought. Until they don’t.
“Thank you, but I’m just grateful it’s over. I do have a question, though. That Sunday morning, when you found your dad, why did you go into the sub shop so early?”
Holly sighed. “I wanted to surprise him by getting most of the prep work done early. But I’d also planned to confront him when he came in about the way he treated me. I was going to tell him how wrong it was for him to use me and Tyler the way he did. I mean, yeah, we went along with it like idiots, but Dad shouldn’t have put us in that position. Just because I was his daughter didn’t mean I should have to prove my loyalty by doing his dirty work. I was essentially going to declare my independence.” She lifted her chin slightly.
In that moment, Carly knew Holly was going to be okay. She was moving in the right direction and taking charge of her future.
“Thanks for explaining that,” Carly said. “And before we both freeze out here, I’m going to let you go. Going forward, I wish you every good thing, Holly. I mean that.”
Holly hugged her. “And that means a lot to me. Tootles for now. Let’s keep in touch!”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Five days later, Carly and Gina were gathered with Lydia around Evelyn’s bed at the rehab facility. Havarti was nestled in Evelyn’s lap, his eyes closed in sheer ecstasy as his new friend stroked his fur.
Evelyn had regained most of her memory from that traumatic day, but parts were still a bit fuzzy. She’d also gained most of her color back, and the purplish bruise on her forehead was fading.
According to Lydia she was eating well. She was also anxious to return home, but her doctor at the facility wanted her to remain there a few more days as a precaution.
“That awful day in your restaurant,” Evelyn told Carly shakily, “when I found out about the footprint on Ferris Menard’s chest, I just knew…I knew it was Stanley. But how could I convince the police of that? They never believed me in the past.” She gave her visitors a wry smile, then reached over and clasped her daughter’s hand.
Lydia squeezed her mom’s thin fingers. “Don’t fret over it anymore, Mom. We can’t change the past.”
“When I think of that poor little Stanley as a child,” Evelyn went on sadly, “it just squeezes my heart. He was so bright, and yet so determined to prove he was stronger, tougher than other boys. Even though I was only a summer volunteer, I filed an incident report the day he beat up that other child. In my mind I can still see him—standing on that boy’s chest like he’d just conquered the world.” She held out her thin arms as if to demonstrate.
Gina pressed a hand to her own chest and winced. “Even picturing that in my head hurts.”
“The school district replied with a letter,” Evelyn continued, “thanking me for my involvement. They’d planned to set up a meeting with Stanley’s parents, but that was the last I ever heard from the school.” She shook her head. “Truth be told, I don’t think the parents were cooperative.”
Carly mulled over Evelyn’s story, trying to piece it together. “Is that what you were looking for the night you fell? The letter from the school?”
“Exactly,” Evelyn said, “along with a copy of my incident report. I knew it was in that plastic storage box. I foolishly tried to use the second stair from the bottom as a step stool, and…well, the rest, as they say, is history.”
“Were you going to show it to the police?” Gina asked her.
“I was, although I knew they’d probably dismiss it as coincidence. Circumstantial, is that what they call it?”
Carly nodded. “Sadly, that’s probably what they’d have said. Especially since it happened so long ago.”
“Almost twenty-five years,” Evelyn confirmed, her eyes sparkling. “But that’s why I wrote that poem to you, Carly. I had faith you’d figure it out, even if the police didn’t believe me. You have a clever way of fitting the clues together. I was going to give it to you the next day at your restaurant, but I never made it there.”
“Those papers we found on your kitchen table,” Gina asked, “were those your practice notes?”
“Exactly,” Evelyn said, “I always write out my thoughts before I complete a poem. I meant to throw them away, but I never got the chance.”
“So, Evelyn,” Carly said, “Stanley was telling me the truth when he said he never touched you?”
“That’s right.” Evelyn pulled her lavender cardigan more tightly around her. “But he did scare me half to death with that…that awful throat-slashing motion. I’ll never forget his face in the window that night. It was…manic is the only word I can think of.”
Gina looked at Carly with pain in her eyes, then reached over and gave her an impulsive hug. “He almost killed you.”
“I know, but it’s over and I’m safe.” She didn’t want her friend to know how terrified she’d been that day.
“Isn’t it strange,” Evelyn said to Carly. “All those days Stanley Henderson sat in your restaurant in the booth next to mine, he never acknowledged he remembered me.”
“But you knew him, right, Mom?” Lydia asked her.
She let out a sigh and nodded. “And I didn’t acknowledge him either. I think now that was a mistake. Maybe if I’d shown him some kindness, he might have gone to the police and confessed to the hit-and-run when it happened. Then he wouldn’t have felt compelled to kill Ferris Menard to keep his secret safe.”
“I doubt that, Mom, but let’s not dwell on it,” Lydia said. Her face brightened, and she smiled at Carly and Gina. “We haven’t told you our good news. Mom’s going to sell the house and move in with me.”
Carly and Gina both squealed, “Yay!” at the same time.
Evelyn clasped her hands with delight. Havarti joined in the celebration by licking her fingers. “Lydia is going to transform her den into a cozy room for me. My writing desk will go right under the window, where I can gaze out over the fields and the forest beyond.”
“I’m so happy for you, Evelyn.” Carly beamed at her.
“I should have done it long ago,” Evelyn admitted. “I was clinging to my last shred of independence, but I know now that was my foolish ego talking. Now I’ll have my own private space, and I won’t be alone at night. With the money I get from selling my house, I can do some serious decorating.” She winked at the women, and they all laughed.
“I can’t wait till you come back to my restaurant, Evelyn. I’m going to make you the best grilled cheese you ever had.”
“Oh, I’ll look forward to that,” Evelyn gushed.
“Hey, Carly, aren’t you forgetting?” Gina tapped her friend’s arm and pointed to her tote.
“Oh! I brought you a gift.” Carly removed a wrapped package with a card attached and gave it to Evelyn. “Gina special ordered it for me and put a rush on it.”
Evelyn’s face glowed. She read the card, then opened the wrapping. Inside was a set of gorgeous pink stationery, complete with a fancy pen.
“Oh, the poems and letters I can write on this! Thank you so much, Carly. What a dear friend you are—both of you.” She reached over and squeezed each of their hands.
Evelyn was also never going to pay for a grilled cheese again, but Carly would let her know that little secret when the time came.
Over the past week, Carly had made some other decisions.
The eatery was thriving enough now that she needed extra help—someone who could step in and manage things in her absence. It would also allow her to spend more time with Ari, something they’d both been wanting to do.
Carly had already offered Grant the assistant manager position, but he’d graciously declined, as she knew he would. Suzanne had also turned her down. Although she loved her job, being Carly’s part-time server suited Suzanne nicely. It allowed her to spend quality time with her husband and son and still contribute to her household.
So, the hunt was on for an assistant manager. Carly wasn’t sure where to begin, but she was keeping her fingers crossed that she’d find the ideal candidate.
As for Portia’s “sample pack” of salad dressings, she and Grant had tested them and found them wanting. But it had given Carly an idea. The eatery was now going to offer a side salad with fresh greens, blended with an herb dressing Grant was currently perfecting.
At Carly’s request, Chip Foster had stopped in the day before. After graciously accepting her apology, he’d celebrated his new job as an inventory clerk for a local chain store with a “plain grilled cheese,” courtesy of Carly. His days of hauling compost bins in and out of restaurants were over.
A young aide came by wheeling a cart. “Would anyone like juice?” she said sweetly. “We have cranberry, orange, grape—”
“Yes!” Evelyn cried. “Let’s all have grape juice and pretend it’s wine. We can drink to all the good things awaiting us in the future!”
The giggling aide poured them each a glass, and the women held them up in a toast.
“Here’s to the best friends I could ever imagine,” Evelyn said, her eyes growing moist. “May our futures be filled with sunshine, and may love blossom and grow.” She smiled, rubbed Havarti’s furry head, and with a sly wink at Carly and Gina took a sip of her “wine.”
Gina’s full cheeks flushed, while Carly slugged back a mouthful of grape juice.
A face flashed in Carly’s mind.
Dark-brown eyes, an adorable mustache, a whoppingly sexy smile…
Carly lifted her glass again in another toast, this time a silent one. As if reading her thoughts, Havarti perked his ears. He gazed into her face with his doggy version of a grin.
Carly knew exactly what he was thinking.
Right on, Mom! I heartily agree.
Read on for a look at Linda Reilly’s next cheesy mystery
Chapter One
The door to Carly’s Grilled Cheese Eatery opened on a whoosh of frigid air. Two women entered, and after shoving the door closed against the January cold, they stomped their boots on the mat.
Carly Hale, owner of the eatery, flipped over the Sweddar Weather she was preparing and peeked over the grill at the pair. The women, both around her own age, looked familiar. Had they graduated from high school with her? She thought they had, but after sixteen years, their names were eluding her.
“Oh gosh, it’s adorable in here!” the shorter woman chirped, sweeping her gaze over the pale, exposed brick walls and the cozy booths upholstered in aquamarine vinyl. Wearing fuzzy white earmuffs that matched her ski jacket, she turned to her companion with a pout. “Dawn,” she said in a girlish whine, “why didn’t we come in here sooner?”
Dawn, who topped her friend’s height by at least half a foot, shoved back the hood of her puffy, purple coat. “Because you’ve been on a diet for almost a year, remember?” she said, a touch of tartness in her tone. “You told me not to let you near this place until after your wedding. I was only following orders.”
Dawn. Yes! Now Carly remembered them—Dawn Chapin and Klarissa Taddeo. In high school they’d been an inseparable pair. Klarissa the bubbly one with sparkling blue eyes and loose, titian-colored curls. Dawn, the quieter and more serious of the two, with hazel eyes and sculpted cheekbones, her straight brunette hair barely brushing the tops of her thin shoulders.
Carly handed over her spatula to her new assistant manager, Valerie Wells. “I want to say hello to these gals. Take over for me?”
Valerie smiled. “You betcha!”
Carly had barely made it around to the other side of the counter when Klarissa let out a squeal. “Carly Hale, is that you?” She rushed toward her and threw her arms around her, mindless of the remnants of snow she was pressing into Carly’s green knit sweater.
Carly hugged her in return. “Klarissa, you look great. I haven’t seen you in so long!”
“I know. It’s been like, forever, hasn’t it?”
“Hey, Carly.” Dawn leaned in for a brief hug, then brushed wet flakes from her coat sleeves. “Sorry about the snow.”
“Oh heck, this is Vermont,” Carly said with a smile. “We expect snow to sneak in with our guests. Can I seat you in the booth at the back? It’s close to the heat register so it’s nice and cozy.”
“We’ll take it!” Klarissa pulled off her earmuffs and slid into the booth. Shiny auburn curls spilled around her face and onto her shoulder.
Dawn settled in opposite her friend, then shrugged off her coat and set her gloves down on the bench seat. Carly gave them menus. After taking their orders and delivering their hot chocolates, she went back behind the grill.
“Old friends of yours?” Valerie asked. Her brunette topknot bounced slightly when she worked, which always seemed to be at warp speed. She slid a grilled cheese onto a plate next to a cup of tomato soup and a pickle.
Carly tucked her friends’ orders on the strip above the grill. “Yup. I went to high school with them, although I haven’t laid eyes on them since graduation.” Carly delivered the sandwich plate to the elderly man seated at the counter. “Thank you kindly,” he said.
Carly had lucked out the day she interviewed Valerie for the assistant manager position. She’d been looking for a responsible helper, someone who could take over the reins for her when she was out of the restaurant, and also feel comfortable in the role. In less than five weeks on the job, the fortysomething Valerie had already proven herself. It was obvious to Carly that a gem had landed in her lap.
Suzanne Rivers, Carly’s part time server, came through the swinging door from the kitchen. In her hands was a covered, stainless-steel bowl. The mom of a boy in grade school, Suzanne had been with Carly from opening day, nearly a year ago. Another lucky find.
“More tuna,” Suzanne announced, shoving the bowl into the mini fridge under the counter. “Seems like everyone’s on a protein kick today.”
“Must be the cold,” Carly said, laughing. Her Farmhouse Cheddar Sleeps with the Fishes, the eatery’s version of a tuna melt, had gained a sudden popularity.
When Klarissa’s and Dawn’s lunches were ready, Carly delivered them to their table. Klarissa had removed her gloves, displaying the colossal marquis diamond glittering on her left ring finger. Her gold-toned cell phone sat in front of her.
Carly set down their plates—a Vermont Classic for Dawn and a Smoky Steals the Bacon for Klarissa. “Beautiful ring,” she commented to Klarissa. “Did I hear someone say you have a wedding in your future?”
Klarissa sat up straighter and wiggled her hand under the lights. A girlish flush colored her porcelain cheeks. “I do, in five weeks. I’m a very lucky woman, Carly.”
“Congratulations,” Carly said. “I wish you all the best.”
Klarissa’s glossy pink lips curved into a frown. “My shower is supposed to be a week from Saturday, if that idiot at the Balsam Dell Inn ever confirms it. You can’t imagine the problems we’ve had with that place, Carly.” She picked up a sandwich half and shoved a corner into her mouth. Her blue eyes lit up like tree bulbs. “This is what I’ve been missing,” she said, after she’d barely swallowed. “I can’t wait till I’m officially Mrs. Tony Manous so I can start eating normal food again!”
Dawn glanced over at her friend but said nothing. She took a dainty bite of her sandwich.
“I’ll let you gals enjoy your lunches,” Carly said, mulling over the name. Tony Manous. She’d heard it before, but where?
Carly went through the swinging door into the kitchen. The familiar aroma of tomatoes and basil and—something else?—swirled around her. Grant Robinson, her other grill cook and a budding chef, was preparing another batch of his hearty tomato soup.
He grinned at her, his dark brown eyes twinkling. He’d been growing out his short dreads, and, in Carly’s opinion, was getting handsomer every day. “You detected a new herb, didn’t you? I can see it on your face.” He gently stirred the large pot that was simmering on the stove.
Carly closed her eyes and inhaled. “It’s…darn, I can’t put my finger on it.” She pinned him with a look. “Come on, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“It’s thyme,” he said. “Just enough to tantalize the senses but not overpower the soup.”
“Mmm. I can’t wait to taste it.”
From the dining room, the musical ringtone from a cell phone filtered through the swinging door. It was the ‘Wedding March’.
“Someone’s getting married,” Grant commented.
