Tomato Basil Murder: Book 7 in The Darling Deli Series by Patti Benning Read Free Book Online Page B

woman. “Feel free to stop by if you ever need a sympathetic ear.”
    Moira watched Beverly leave, not entirely sure how she felt about the woman. She seemed nice enough, even if she did occasionally say something that made it seem as if she was disdainful of the small town. If she’s still around next week, maybe I should invite her to coffee with Martha and Denise , Moira thought. Denise and I both have plenty of experience with cheating husbands; she might appreciate the chance to vent.
    Deciding to talk to Martha about including Beverly in their next coffee date, Moira began the familiar task of closing the deli for the evening. She let Meg go once the kitchen was clean, and spent the last few minutes sweeping up the dining area by herself. She was glad that it was summer; in winter, when the days were shorter, night would have long since fallen. But right now, during the last weeks of August, there was still another hour or two of sunlight left after the deli closed—plenty of time for her to get back to the apartment and take Maverick to the park before settling in for the night.
    She was locking the deli’s front door when she felt her cell phone buzz in the pocket of her khaki capris. She pulled it out, expecting to see David’s name on the caller ID, but instead saw Detective Jefferson’s. Her heart skipped a beat. Had the police found out something new about Mike’s death? Her keys still in the lock, she answered the phone.
    “Ms. Darling, can you come down to the station?” said the familiar voice of the detective.
    “I’m just closing up the deli,” she told him. “I can be there in just a few minutes.” She finished locking up, then paused. Why did he call me “Ms. Darling”? she wondered. After she had helped catch the man who had murdered his partner, the detective had become much friendlier to her, even using her first name when they ran into each other around town.
    “Perfect. Thank you for being so cooperative.” He hung up, leaving Moira with a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She walked to her car. Before she started it, she sent a second text to David. Something about the detective’s voice had warned her that she might have just moved to the top of the police’s list of suspects.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    “Ms. Darling, I would like to introduce you to Detective Wilson, my new partner,” Detective Jefferson said as he let Moira into the interview room.
    “It’s nice to meet you,” she said to the chestnut-haired woman standing on the other side of the table. She wondered again what she was here for. Was it a good sign or a bad one that someone other than Jefferson would be talking to her?
    “Please, take a seat,” Detective Wilson said. She gestured to the single chair on the side of the table closest to Moira. Obediently sitting down, Moira couldn’t help but glance at the small camera on the ceiling in the corner. She much preferred talking to Detective Jefferson in his office, or even in the more comfortable room used for interviewing victims. This cold, dreary room set her on edge. Which is probably the point , she mused.
    “I have no idea why I’m here,” she admitted as the two detectives sat down across from her. “Is it about Mike?”
    “Yes, this is about your ex-husband,” Wilson said, folding her hands neatly in front of her. “Were you aware that he had recently named you as the beneficiary on his life insurance policy?”
    “What?” Moira’s eyes widened. She was stunned. Why would Mike have done such a thing? Surely it must have been a mistake. He hadn’t offered her a cent of financial help over the years beyond what was required by law.
    “He changed his policy about two weeks ago,” the female detective continued. She opened the folder in front of her. “At about the same time he bought the plane ticket for his trip out here.”
    “That can’t be right…. He wouldn’t do something like that,” she told them. “Are you sure it’s me that he