The Soggy Cannoli Murder by M.P. Black

Author:M.P. Black
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MP Black Media

Inside Moroni’s backroom bakery, I donned my apron and grabbed a big bowl of ricotta. As I added sugar, stirring it in using a spatula, I glanced over at Angelica. As casually as I could, I asked about Liz, saying I thought I saw her on her bicycle as I was arriving.

“I gave her yesterday’s bread and the cookies and pastries that we’d have to get rid of anyway,” Angelica explained. “There’s a food bank near us that also comes by sometimes, but I’m always glad when Liz will accept some help. I can’t imagine she can do much baking in that trailer of hers.”

I commented that Liz seemed quite down on her luck.

“Who knows if it’s bad luck or her own choice,” Angelica said. “She’s either very frugal or very poor. I can’t work out which it is.”

I stirred the creamy ricotta filling. “How close were Liz and Mark?”

“I don’t think they saw each other in recent years, unless they bumped into each other by the lake. Though, of course, before Liz’s trial for killing her business partner, she and Mark saw each other every day.”

I stopped stirring. “Every day? Why?”

“Why, because of Cafe Roma,” Angelica said, as if she’d expected I knew. “Liz was the co-owner of the cafe. Mark was one of her business partners, too.”

My jaw must have dropped, because Angelica reached out a finger and tapped my chin. “Surprised, huh?”

“A little,” I admitted. “No, a lot. What happened? Why did Liz leave the cafe?”

“After she got out of prison, she gave up her stake in the cafe and moved out into the woods. Cafe Roma became Mark’s. Of course, now, ironically, the cafe will go back to her.”

The implications made my head spin. If Liz had once been co-owner with Mark, she might still have a key to the back door. Considering Mark never upgraded his espresso machine, it would be surprising if he bothered to pay a locksmith to change his locks after his business partner left.

Maria said she’d seen a bicycle on the day of the murder. Could it have been Liz’s? I tried to recall her bicycle. Rust had eaten most of the frame, making it a brownish orange. Maria had described the bicycle as yellow. So maybe it was a different one.

Above all, I considered this: Liz stood to inherit everything. That could be a big motive for murder.

“Did Joanna ever get hold of Liz about Mark not making a will and what that means?” I asked.

“She did,” Angelica said.

“How did Liz react?”

“Can you believe it? Joanna went to her trailer and found her at home. But when she told her about the inheritance, Liz slammed the door in Joanna’s face.”

“Why would she do that?”

“God only knows,” Angelica said. Then, after picking out the crisp brown shells from the boiling oil, she added, “But maybe you’ll find out. Since you’re snooping around a bit.”

She glanced over at me and winked.

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