Grilled Rye Murder: Book 16 in The Darling Deli Series by Patti Benning Page A

asked an hour later as they were finishing up some of the best pecan pie she had ever tasted.
    “Yes, but unfortunately nothing good,” he said. “I finally tracked down some information about Danehill. He couldn’t have killed Zander. He’s been in Canada since before the murder.”
    “So we’re back to having no idea who did it?” she asked, disappointed.
    “I’m sure something will turn up,” David told her. “Let’s not worry about all of that now. I don’t want it to distract from our wedding.”
    “All right,” she agreed, trying to push her concern to the back of her mind. “I don’t want anything to distract from the wedding either. I want it to be perfect.”
    When he drove her home that evening, his goodnight kiss lingered. She wanted the moment to last forever, but eventually he pulled away.
    “See you tomorrow,” he said softly, grinning. “I love you.”
    She could hardly contain her own smile as she let herself indoors. She knew that tomorrow would be a hectic, crazy, wonderful day, and afterwards they would have the murder charges against her still looming, but right now, in that moment, there wasn’t a single thing to worry about.
     

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
    “Just breathe out, Moira. I can’t get it tight if you don’t. Quit hyperventilating.”
    Focusing on her breathing, Moira consciously slowed it down and exhaled deeply. Martha took the opportunity to pull the laces tight and tie them off.
    “What do you think?”
    The deli owner turned to the full-length mirror and gazed at herself. Her hair and makeup hadn’t been done yet out of fear of smudging something while she got dressed, but even so, she looked transformed. The dress was just as beautiful as she remembered, and she couldn’t wait for David to see her in it.
    “It’s perfect. Thank you, Martha. I can’t even imagine trying to put this thing on alone.”
    “You’d have to be a contortionist,” her friend agreed.
    “Mom, the hair lady is here,” Candice called from the doorway. Moira looked up in time to see the cosmetologist stride in. She winced. Freya was supposed to be great, but the deli owner had never enjoyed having others do her hair and makeup for her. The thought of sitting still for the next hour while someone poked and prodded at her wasn’t a tempting one, but there was no getting around it.
    “Take a seat right over there,” the woman directed. “Are you sticking with the plan that we went over before? Hair down, semi-natural makeup?”
    “Yes, if you can. Thank you.”
    She took her seat and tried to relax as the woman pinned a protective sheer around her neck to protect her dress from the hair spray and makeup. This would be over soon enough, and then the wedding would begin.
    Freya had nearly finished when a knock sounded at the door of the dressing area that the church had let them use. Martha frowned, checked her watch, then went to answer it. Moira, who had been forbidden to move her head, kept her eyes on the mirror in an effort to figure out who it was. She was surprised to see Jenny walk in. The young brunette looked nervous, but she had a certain determination to her face. It was the deli owner’s turn to frown. Had something gone wrong with the food for the reception?
    “Can I talk to you?” the young woman asked quietly. “Alone?” Her eyes darted anxiously between the others.
    “She’s not done yet,” Freya told her with a frown. “You’ll have to wait.”
    “Please, Ms. D. It’s important.”
    Moira met her employee’s eyes and read the urgency there. Whatever was going on, she knew it couldn’t wait, or Jenny wouldn’t have interrupted.
    “All right,” she said. “Sorry, Freya. I’m going to have to step into the hallway really quickly.”
    Ignoring her hairdresser’s annoyed sigh, she shrugged out of the sheet and got up. A quick glance in the mirror tempted her to stay and take a longer look—could that beautiful woman really be her? But Jenny was fidgeting at her