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

investigator had already promised to help find the killer. He’ll probably be even more determined to find the real murderer now that the police are starting to look at me as a real suspect.
    A knock sounded at the door to the apartment and a moment later, as if summoned by her thoughts, David walked in. His eyes found hers immediately, and he offered her a reassuring smile. Just being around him calmed Moira and made her more certain that things would turn out all right. Grateful for the private investigator’s support and friendship, she smiled back at him before opening the first box of pizza.
    “Now that we’re all here,” she said, “let’s get some food on our plates and then I’ll tell you both what happened today.

CHAPTER NINE
    Moira woke up bright and early the next Monday , eager at the prospect of a day off—and even more eager at the thought of what she and David had planned for the day. As she had thought, when she had told him about her interview at the police station, he had become even more determined to find the real killer as quickly as possible. His suggestion of talking to the housekeeper who had let Candice into the room where Mike had been found was a good one, though she doubted that they would discover anything that the police hadn’t. Still, it was worth a try, and it was much better than sitting around and waiting for the official investigation to turn something up.
    “Sorry, buddy,” she said to Maverick as she fed him his breakfast. “You’ll have to stay here today. It’s too hot to leave you in the car, and I don’t think the hotel allows dogs.” She patted him on the head and tried to ignore his sad look as she gathered up her purse and keys and walked out the door without him.
    David was waiting for her in the parking lot, his black car idling quietly next to hers. His windows were down, and he gave her a cheerful wave as she approached.
    “I got us iced coffees,” he said as she slid into the passenger seat. The morning was already hot and humid, so Moira was grateful for the sweet, cold drink. She took a sip, then pulled a small notepad out of her purse.
    “I wrote down Mike’s room number,” she told the private detective. “So we can check it out if we can convince one of the employees to open it up for us.”
    “Good. I called the hotel last night and asked what Allison Byrd’s—she’s the housekeeper that let Candice in—schedule is. Once I told them I was working on Mike’s case, they were more than happy to tell me her hours. Luckily she has the morning shift today.” He checked his watch. “She’ll be at the hotel in about ten minutes. Shall we get going?”
    “We might as well. The sooner Candice and I get closure, the better,” Moira said.
    The hotel’s parking lot was nearly full when they got here. Tourist season is still in full swing , she thought. But when school starts again in a couple of weeks, this place will be nearly empty. Sometimes she envied places like Florida that were popular tourist destinations year round. No one wanted to come up to Maple Creek in the middle of winter, so for months out of every year the small shops and restaurants had to scrape by on whatever business they got from the locals. It wasn’t easy, but most people found a way to make it work.
    Moira followed David out of the car and through the sliding doors to the hotel’s reception area. Seeing the happy tourists in their brightly colored tank tops and shorts, the teenagers glued to the glowing screens of their cell phones and the adults flipping through travel brochures, she decided the thought of a gruesome murder happening here just over a week ago was almost surreal.
    “We’re here to speak to Allison Byrd,” David said to the young man at the reception counter.
    “I think she’s upstairs, cleaning. Are you with the police?” he asked. David wordlessly took out his wallet and showed him his private investigator’s identification. The young man looked