A Beeline to Murder Read Online Free PDF

him?” Kat asked.
    “He works the night shift. He sometimes forgets to lock the back door.”
    “Anyone work with him on the night shift?” Kat softened her tone.
    “No. He works alone. Can’t you tell me what’s going on?”
    “I need to talk with you, Tallulah, so don’t go anywhere,” Kat said, ignoring the young woman’s question. Turning to Abby, Kat asked, “When Otto is finished helping Virgil, will you see to it that he asks Miss Berry for the names of anyone else who worked with her and the chef at the shop, along with their addresses and phone numbers? I see the coroner’s assistant is getting into the van, and I need to go over a couple of things with her before she leaves.”
    “Sure,” Abby replied.
    Directing her questioning to Abby, the young woman said, “Please tell me that . . . that body bag wasn’t for Chef Jean-Louis.”
    Abby said gently, “I’m sorry, but it is.”
    “No! Can’t be!” Tallulah’s youthful expression glazed with despair. Her light gray eyes widened, and tears began to pool. Soon they spilled over, staining her pale cheeks with black mascara. “But how? Did he have heart attack or something?”
    “We don’t know the details as yet.” Abby put a comforting hand around Tallulah’s elbow, then escorted the young woman a short distance away from the crowd. She gave Tallulah a minute to let the news sink in before asking, “Did he have a heart condition? Is that why you asked about his heart?”
    “No. He was really healthy.”
    “Was he depressed?”
    “More stressed than depressed.”
    “That so? Why was he stressed?”
    “Money. He’d gotten loans to keep the business going, and the money was due. Chef Jean-Louis told me once to never do business with guys who would break your legs for late payment. I guess he was in pretty deep.”
    “Who were the guys? Do you recall their names?”
    “I never heard their names, just that they are private investors. They give loans to people who can’t get the funds any other way.”
    “Do you think those people would have exacted revenge on Chef Jean-Louis for not paying back the loans on time?” Abby asked.
    Tallulah used her fingers to wipe away her tears. She sniffed. “I don’t know. Sometimes they came around, had coffee and pastries, more like cousins than investors. But Chef Jean-Louis gets worked up when he can’t pay the bills. He yells a lot, but it doesn’t mean anything. He just vents. But the loans stressed him, and so did the problems he was having with the landlord.”
    “Whose name is . . . ?” Abby’s brow shot up. She leaned slightly toward the young woman and waited for the answer.
    “Willie Dobbs. He did not want to renew the pastry shop lease. He said he needed to refurbish the building. But Chef Jean-Louis told me Dobbs just wanted the pastry shop gone so he could get someone else in here and jack up the rent.” Tallulah choked back sniffles.
    Abby pulled a tissue from her jeans pocket and handed it to the young woman.
    After wiping the tissue beneath each eye, Tallulah used it to blow her nose. “You know, he’s nothing but a redneck bully, that Dobbs guy. I . . . I heard him and the chef arguing.”
    “When was that?” Abby asked.
    Tallulah bit her lip and frowned in concentration. “I’m not sure. Oh, my God! I can’t believe he’s dead.” Her face took on a stricken expression.
    Abby sighed. “Sure. I understand. Take a moment to catch your breath. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think it was important.”
    Tallulah’s eyes welled again with tears. She wiped her nose. “Last week, I guess . . . maybe Saturday. Yeah, I think it was Saturday. I wanted to see that arty film being shown next door. The theater’s last showing on Saturday was at eight p.m. We usually close the shop at six. The last customer had left. Just me and the chef . . . He’d come in early to work a split shift, instead of his usual midnight schedule. I was closing the shop.”
    “Go on,” Abby