Sleep in Heavenly Pizza by Mindy Quigley

Author:Mindy Quigley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

CHAPTER 16

As I came into the dining room, I tried to regain control of myself. When I’d designed Delilah & Son’s interior, I tried to imbue it with a sense of enchantment and escape. Right then, though, I couldn’t quite get its magic to work on me. At least it seemed to be working on the restaurant’s guests. Conversations created a pleasant thrum, a background noise occasionally punctuated by a peal of laughter or the clink of a glass. Sonya and I had curated a holiday playlist that mixed festive standards with modern jazzy takes on the season by Jamie Cullum and John Legend. The mood was further heightened by the seductive aromas of freshly baked pizza and roasted garlic drifting from the kitchen.

I’d made sure to seat Shea’s party at one of the window tables, the best table in the house. But as I approached, I could see that the best table was also the only table not having a good time. And really, how could they be? Shea had dropped everything and flown across the country to be with her husband and stepdaughter, who themselves had been questioned in a murder investigation. The Hoffmans’ home had been searched; their party had become a crime scene. Just as my eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the view of the freezing, ink-black lake, the group at Shea’s table must’ve felt unable to pull their attention away from looming specter of Natasha La Cotti’s death.

Adrian glowered at the head of the table, Daffi to his right. Hadley sat next to them, her arms folded into a tight X over her chest, her lips fixed into a pout. Everything about her seemed pinched. Her shoulders rounded as if her body were curling in on itself. Every motion was staccato, as if her tendons and ligaments had suddenly grown too short to allow her to move freely.

Daffi’s eyes were glassy and her cheeks had a ruddy glow that could have resulted from stinging wind or excess imbibing. Watching as she topped up her wineglass in a practiced, weary way, I guessed it was the latter. When I’d seen Daffi the night of the Chrismukkah party, I’d been struck by her resemblance to her daughter. But it was as if she’d aged in fast motion since then, all the years hitting her at once, like gathering waves that had finally broken. And when the breaker drew back, it clawed away her protective layer.

On the other end of the table, my sister had taken her seat. Jonathan was next to her, and leaned in to murmur something in her ear. The two of them, each so attractive, looked even more so when sitting side by side, like a matching his-and-hers gift set of health and prosperity. But while Jonathan’s attention was zeroed in on Shea with a devotion that bordered on desperation, her own concentration seemed fractured. She barely registered whatever he was saying. Her discontented gaze flitted around; her fingers drummed the tabletop.

Biz

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