Free Pepperoni Pizza Can Be Murder by Chris Cavender Page A

that?” Chief Hurley asked.
    “Sorry, Kevin, I thought it was Greg Hatcher. I told him to give me a call, no matter how late he got in. What’s going on?” I stared blearily at the clock, trying to make out the numbers. As the fog started to clear, I could see that it was two minutes past three in the morning. That helped wake me more than a cup of coffee. “What’s going on? Did something happen to Maddy?” She was the only real family I had left, so it was pretty natural that my thoughts would go straight to her.
    “No, as far as I know, your sister’s fine. I’m not sure I can say the same about your deliveryman, though.”
    “Oh, no. Something happened to Greg, didn’t it?”
    “Besides the fact that I can’t find him, I wouldn’t care to speculate on that. Do you have any idea where he might be?”
    None of this was making any sense. “Hang on a second. Why are you looking for Greg? What happened?”
    “You’re going to find out soon enough, so I might as well tell you now. Somebody took a rolling pin to the back of his brother’s head, and the way they’ve been fighting lately, it just makes sense that I want to talk to him.”
    I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Do you honestly think Greg had something to do with the attack on his brother?”
    “It’s more than assault, Eleanor. It’s murder. He died on the scene.”
    “And you think Greg is the murderer.”
    “I didn’t say that I thought he did it, just that I needed to interview him.” He paused a second, then added, “I’m not ready to say he’s not a killer, either. That’s why we need to have a conversation as quickly as possible. The only problem is, I can’t find him.”
    “So you thought I might know where he was,” I said, finally clearing out some of the cobwebs left over from being suddenly awakened.
    “That’s not the only reason for this call,” he said. “I need you to come down to your restaurant.”
    “What’s wrong? Are you hungry?”
    “No, and even if I were, it wouldn’t do me any good. You can’t exactly make me something to eat. It’s a crime scene right now.”
    “Please don’t tell me you’re at the Slice,” I said as I rubbed my eyes again.
    “I wish I didn’t have to. Wade was murdered in your kitchen. I need you to get down here as soon as you can.”
    “You don’t need me to identify the body, do you? Honestly, I didn’t really know Wade all that well.” The gears in my mind were spinning at an alarming rate, and mostly I was thinking about Greg, and the different ways his brother had pushed him in the last twenty-four hours. Could it have been hard enough to make him commit murder?
    The police chief said, “Don’t worry, I know Wade by sight, so there’s no doubt about that. What I need to know is if the murder weapon belongs to you.”
    “A murderer isn’t likely to carry a rolling pin around with him waiting for an opportunity to use it, is he?”
    “Are you coming down on your own, or do I need to send a car after you?” It was easy to hear the weariness in his voice.
    “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I said.
    I hung up the phone and called Maddy. I’d expected to wake her up, but I was surprised to hear music playing in the background when she answered.
    “You’re not even asleep yet?” I asked.
    “I tried, but it wasn’t working out, so I decided to make myself a pitcher of margaritas, instead. Come on over, we’ll make it a party.”
    “Not tonight,” I said. “Somebody killed Greg Hatcher’s brother, and the police can’t find Greg.”
    “Hang on a second,” she said. I heard the telephone clatter to the floor, and the music died abruptly. “That’s better. Why did the chief call you?”
    “He wants me to identify the murder weapon. Someone used a rolling pin on Wade.”
    “And he thinks you know who owns all the rolling pins in town?”
    “Did I forget to tell you? It happened in the pizzeria’s kitchen, and Kevin thinks the pin belongs to