Chicken Pesto Murder: Book 5 in The Darling Deli Series by Patti Benning

his wallet at the crime scene, the two had just had a pretty bad argument, and David showed up late to the retirement party, favoring an arm.” He met her gaze. “Like I said, I don’t think that it was him, but until the evidence says otherwise, I’m going to have to keep viewing him as a suspect.”
    “Well, would it help if I told you that he noticed the missing wallet driving home after we had dinner at the Redwood Grill?”
    The detective looked at her sternly. “ Did he, or are you just saying he did?”
    “Of course he did,” she said with some heat. “I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”
    Detective Jefferson sighed and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t. It’s been a hard week.”
    “I hope you catch the guy who really did it,” she told him. “And I’m sorry about Fitzgerald. I didn’t know him that well, but from what I could tell, he was good at his job and really cared about the town.”
    “He did,” the detective said. “And thanks. I’ll miss him. He was a good man.”
    By the time she got home, all she wanted to do was to put the groceries away and go to bed. It had been a long day, and a lot had happened. When Candice greeted her at the door, she started to tell her daughter about everything that had happened, but the young woman interrupted.
    “Mom, you’ve got to see this,” she said, grabbing Moira’s arm and half leading, half dragging her to the living room where their old desktop computer was set up.
    “What is it?” the deli owner asked, truly exhausted and not prepared to deal with anything else.
    “Just read,” her daughter said impatiently.
    Moira sighed and sat in the seat, squinting at what was on the screen. It was an article from the Maple Creek news website. The headline read Private Investigator Questioned About Detective’s Murder. She was surprised to see a shot of David under the headline. The picture showed him walking from his office in Lake Marion to his car, and it was obvious that he wasn’t aware of the photographer. She perused the rest of the article quickly. It said pretty much what she expected; that David had been brought in for questioning about Detective Fitzgerald’s murder, and that he had been seen arguing with the detective in a public area a few days beforehand. There wasn’t any mention either of the wallet or David’s late arrival to the party, which was a relief. Whoever the source was for the article, they didn’t seem to know as much about this case as they had when they were reporting about Moira’s supposed involvement with Henry Devou’s death a few months ago.
    “I’m really starting to dislike our local news,” she said, turning off the computer screen and rising out of the chair.
    “I know you like him, Mom.” Candice hesitated, not meeting her mother’s gaze. “But… do you think that he could have done it?”
    “Of course not,” Moira said quickly. “He would never do something like that.”
    “You haven’t even known him for six months,” her daughter pointed out. “For all you know, he could be like a serial killer or something.” The young woman saw the look on her mother’s face and backpedaled quickly. “Okay, so he probably isn’t. But you have to admit, there is a possibility that he isn’t who you think he is.”
    Is Candice right? Moira wondered. They really hadn’t known David for more than a few months. The private investigator had never been anything but kind and helpful to her, but she knew from experience that even a cold-hearted killer could be polite. And the truth was, there was even more evidence pointing towards David than her daughter knew. His wallet had been found in Fitzgerald’s house, and although there was a good explanation for that, she clearly remembered him showing up late and injured to the detective’s retirement party. He had said that he’d had a biking accident, and she hadn’t questioned it, but now she couldn’t help but wonder. What if