Read Online A Slice of Murder by Chris Cavender - Free Book Online
Authors: Chris Cavender
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“I need to talk to you.”
Joanna was a thin, older woman who darted around people like a hummingbird looking for nectar, and I tried to avoid her whenever I could. In her seventies, she could still manage to stir up more trouble than a marauding gang of monkeys armed with paintball guns.
“Sorry, we’re running behind,” I said as I secured the gas cap. Now all I had to do was print out the receipt, and we’d be gone. I hit the print button, only nothing came out. The blasted thing was out of paper, which meant that I had to go inside to retrieve a receipt. I thought about abandoning it, but the bookkeeper inside me wouldn’t allow it. I had to have receipts for everything, from donuts to automobiles, a personality quirk that I would have given anything to abandon at the moment.
“I’ll walk in with you,” Joanna said. “So, you’re closing the pizzeria. It’s probably for the best. What are you going to do now?”
How in the world did she know we’d shut the doors? Had she followed us here after reading the sign? “Madeline and I are running a few errands,” I said as I cursed the employee whose job it was to keep the receipt paper filled.
She waved a quick hand in the air. “I mean in the long term. I understand you’ve hired Bob Lemon. He’s very good. Who knows? You might even get out while you’re still a young woman.” She studied me for a moment, then said, “Well, relatively young.”
The impact of her words spun me around to face her. “Joanna, I didn’t kill Richard Olsen. I’m not going to jail, and I’m not closing the pizzeria. I’m simply taking a few hours off to run a few errands.”
She looked taken aback by my blast, then managed to say, “Of course you are. How brave of you. If you need a confidante, don’t be afraid to call me, at any hour. I rarely sleep, you know.”
Too busy prying into other people’s lives, I thought, though didn’t dare say. Joanna had no compunctions about embellishing every story she told, and no doubt she’d be telling all of Timber Ridge by dark that I’d made a full confession of the murder to her while standing in front of the Ezee Fill gas station.
I grabbed the receipt from the clerk, who must have seen me glaring at him through the window, turned back, and left Joanna in my wake.
“Call me!” she yelled out as I ducked back into the Subaru.
As I drove away, Maddy was nearly doubled over in her seat from laughter.
“What’s so funny?” I asked. “You could have helped me deal with her, you know. Two against one and all that.”
“Are you kidding? It was too much fun watching you go after her yourself.”
“I wish I could share the joke with you, but this is serious. That woman is a character assassin, and it’s pretty clear I’m the one in her sights right now.”
“Don’t let her get to you,” Maddy said. “She’s mean, but she’s harmless.”
“Don’t kid yourself. I won’t be able to get an unbiased jury in twelve counties once she’s done with me.”
Maddy said, “This will never go to trial. You have to believe that.”
“Sorry I don’t have your faith in our local law enforcement, and it’s important to remember that if we don’t find out what really happened to Richard Olsen, a trial is exactly where I’m heading. But even if it doesn’t make it that far, the longer this hangs over my head, the more easily folks in town are going to start believing I actually did it.”
“We won’t let that happen,” Maddy said.
“I’m counting on it.”
We traced my route of the night before, and I felt my hands start to shake as they grasped the wheel of their own accord. The image of Richard lying there with a knife in his chest was one I doubted I’d ever be able to wipe completely away from my memory, certainly not this soon. I was beginning to wonder about the wisdom of revisiting the scene of the murder when suddenly and almost without warning, I had no other choice.
We were there.
I parked
Joanna was a thin, older woman who darted around people like a hummingbird looking for nectar, and I tried to avoid her whenever I could. In her seventies, she could still manage to stir up more trouble than a marauding gang of monkeys armed with paintball guns.
“Sorry, we’re running behind,” I said as I secured the gas cap. Now all I had to do was print out the receipt, and we’d be gone. I hit the print button, only nothing came out. The blasted thing was out of paper, which meant that I had to go inside to retrieve a receipt. I thought about abandoning it, but the bookkeeper inside me wouldn’t allow it. I had to have receipts for everything, from donuts to automobiles, a personality quirk that I would have given anything to abandon at the moment.
“I’ll walk in with you,” Joanna said. “So, you’re closing the pizzeria. It’s probably for the best. What are you going to do now?”
How in the world did she know we’d shut the doors? Had she followed us here after reading the sign? “Madeline and I are running a few errands,” I said as I cursed the employee whose job it was to keep the receipt paper filled.
She waved a quick hand in the air. “I mean in the long term. I understand you’ve hired Bob Lemon. He’s very good. Who knows? You might even get out while you’re still a young woman.” She studied me for a moment, then said, “Well, relatively young.”
The impact of her words spun me around to face her. “Joanna, I didn’t kill Richard Olsen. I’m not going to jail, and I’m not closing the pizzeria. I’m simply taking a few hours off to run a few errands.”
She looked taken aback by my blast, then managed to say, “Of course you are. How brave of you. If you need a confidante, don’t be afraid to call me, at any hour. I rarely sleep, you know.”
Too busy prying into other people’s lives, I thought, though didn’t dare say. Joanna had no compunctions about embellishing every story she told, and no doubt she’d be telling all of Timber Ridge by dark that I’d made a full confession of the murder to her while standing in front of the Ezee Fill gas station.
I grabbed the receipt from the clerk, who must have seen me glaring at him through the window, turned back, and left Joanna in my wake.
“Call me!” she yelled out as I ducked back into the Subaru.
As I drove away, Maddy was nearly doubled over in her seat from laughter.
“What’s so funny?” I asked. “You could have helped me deal with her, you know. Two against one and all that.”
“Are you kidding? It was too much fun watching you go after her yourself.”
“I wish I could share the joke with you, but this is serious. That woman is a character assassin, and it’s pretty clear I’m the one in her sights right now.”
“Don’t let her get to you,” Maddy said. “She’s mean, but she’s harmless.”
“Don’t kid yourself. I won’t be able to get an unbiased jury in twelve counties once she’s done with me.”
Maddy said, “This will never go to trial. You have to believe that.”
“Sorry I don’t have your faith in our local law enforcement, and it’s important to remember that if we don’t find out what really happened to Richard Olsen, a trial is exactly where I’m heading. But even if it doesn’t make it that far, the longer this hangs over my head, the more easily folks in town are going to start believing I actually did it.”
“We won’t let that happen,” Maddy said.
“I’m counting on it.”
We traced my route of the night before, and I felt my hands start to shake as they grasped the wheel of their own accord. The image of Richard lying there with a knife in his chest was one I doubted I’d ever be able to wipe completely away from my memory, certainly not this soon. I was beginning to wonder about the wisdom of revisiting the scene of the murder when suddenly and almost without warning, I had no other choice.
We were there.
I parked
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