Poisoning at the Pizzeria (Traumatic Temp Agency 4)

By Kelly Hashway

Waitressing is one of the last jobs Hailey Hart wants, but when her temp agency places her at the local pizzeria, having to serve food and not being able to wash the smell of garlic out of her hair is the least of Hailey’s worries. Her new boss winds up dead, supposedly from food poisoning.

But the cook is adamant that there was nothing wrong with the food, and Hailey is inclined to believe him. Not many people liked Dante Peretti, including his ex-wife, current wife, or his employees. Hailey suspects this wasn’t an accident. It was murder.

The question is who poisoned Peretti’s pizza? And is he the only victim on the killer’s list?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kelly Hashway
• Release date: Dec 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005222468

Kelly Hashway

Kelly Hashway fully admits to being one of the most accident-prone people on the planet, but luckily she gets to write about female sleuths who are much more coordinated than she is. Maybe it was growing up watching Murder, She Wrote that instilled a love of mystery, but she spends her days writing cozy mysteries. Kelly’s also a sucker for first love, which is why she writes romance under the pen name Ashelyn Drake. When she’s not writing, Kelly works as an editor and also as Mom, which she believes is a job title that deserves to be capitalized.

Book preview

Chapter One

I balance the two sodas on the circular tray in my hands and bring it to the table in the corner. Waitressing was the last job I wanted the Traum Temp Agency to place me in, but I can’t afford to be picky. It’s not like any of my other job placements worked out well either. So far I’ve worked in a candy shop, a toy store, and a boutique. All three had one major flaw in common: dead bodies.

The scent of garlic is strong in Peretti’s Pizzeria, and I’m sure I’ll never be able to get the smell of it out of my hair no matter how much shampoo I use, but at least I know I’ll be able to pay my rent this month. I live in a tiny apartment that used to be a detached garage. My landlords, the Sawyers, are nice enough people, but like all landlords, they expect to be paid.

So, here I am, serving pizzas to locals on a Friday night after doing a double shift on my very first day. Ben Traum, owner of the Traum Temp Agency, and as of very recently my boyfriend, said Peretti’s can’t seem to keep employees. The turnover rate is insanely high, so they wanted me to start immediately and work a crazy number of hours. The only good part is more hours means a bigger paycheck. Right now, my refrigerator has two bottles of water and a half gallon of ice cream. You know, the essentials. Other than that, I have a few boxes of cereal in my apartment. I’m living like a college student despite the fact that I’m twenty-seven, but considering I spent a crazy amount of years in college to emerge with no degree at all because I could never settle on a major, that’s about right. That’s me. Hailey Hart, the woman with no direction in life, which is why I moved to Rockland in the first place. I knew absolutely no one here, which means no one here knows what an epic failure I am.

Since coming to Rockland, I’ve wound up being the local amateur sleuth. I never meant to solve any murders. It just sort of happened since dead bodies seem to follow me wherever I go. It’s really not a fun little quirk or anything like some TV shows make it seem to be. Though I do like watching those shows as well as true crime documentaries. No, being around actual dead bodies and solving murders is insane. But also addicting once you start investigating.

Waitress! someone yells. I look up to see I’ve only made it about four feet with my tray of drinks. I must have zoned out. A double shift will do that. I’m completely exhausted, and my feet are killing me from standing all day.

Sorry, I say, hurrying over. Here are your drinks. I carefully set them on the table. The first time I tried this today, I accidentally toppled the tray after removing the first drink. Luckily for me, the lemonade spilled on me and not a customer, or I would have had my pay docked according to Christian, one of the other employees who has been showing me the ropes today.

The guy who yelled for me rolls his eyes. I swear this place hires the biggest losers, he tells his date.

I have to bite my tongue and remind myself that my need for a paycheck is greater than my desire to punch this lowlife in the face after a comment like that. Your food should be out shortly, I say before walking away.

We need extra napkins, the guy calls after me.

I turn and point to the napkin dispenser in the center of the table. It’s full of napkins. They’re right there.

Not these cheap things. I want real napkins.

Christian walks up behind me. I’ll be happy to show Hailey where we keep them, he tells the man. It’s her first day.

Well, that explains a lot, the guy says with another roll of his eyes.

Christian nudges me, and I realize I’m shooting daggers out of my eyes straight into the man’s skull. Come on, Hailey.

I follow him into the kitchen and place the round tray on the stack with the others. Do you know that guy?

Yeah, he’s in here all the time. He’s a piece of work. Christian brings me to the shelf where the paper products are. The bigger napkins are right here. He pulls out a few. Only give them to people who specifically ask for them.

Got it. I start to take them from him, but he pulls his hand back.

Actually, let me take that table. That guy can be a real jerk, and you’ve had a long day.

Thanks, I say.

No problem. Would you mind bringing Mr. Peretti his sangria for me? Christian asks.

He’s here? I look through the kitchen window out to the dining room. I have yet to meet Dante Peretti. I met his ex-wife Sandra instead. They co-own the pizzeria.

He’s at the table in the back corner. It’s where he always sits. You can’t miss him.

I turn toward the large glass container that houses the homemade sangria. Supposedly, it’s really good. I’m not a big sangria drinker, though, so I wouldn’t know even if I did try it. I pour a glass and carry it out to Mr. Peretti.

He appears to be in his early fifties. He’s an attractive man, but he has a permanent scowl on his face. I’m guessing life hasn’t been too easy on him.

Mr. Peretti, I say.

He looks up from the iPad in his hand. Oh, good, my sangria.

I set it down in front of him. I’m Hailey Hart. I just started working here today.

Hello. Could you get me a personal meat lovers pizza? But I only want salami, sausage, and pepperoni on it. No ham. Make sure there’s no ham on it.

Sure thing. I’ll go put in the order right now.

He’s already looking down at his iPad screen again. I guess he’s not big on interacting with the employees. Or maybe he doesn’t get too involved with the employees since the turnover rate is so high here.

I go back to the kitchen and place the order with Josh.

Let me guess. It’s for Peretti, Josh says.

How did you know? I lean against the counter.

That man hates ham. He loves every other kind of meat, though. Plus, it’s his usual Friday night order.

I take it you’ve been working here a while.

Too long. Yet, according to Peretti, I still can’t make a decent pizza.

I doubt Josh would still be working here if Mr. Peretti thought that was true. He’s probably just joking with you.

Really? Because last Friday, he sent the pizza back twice. The first time, he said I used too much sauce. The second time, he said I used too much garlic. He looks up from the dough he’s forming. Oh, and don’t expect a tip from him. He thinks since he signs our paychecks, he doesn’t need to tip us.

Awesome. Maybe Christian wasn’t doing me a favor by taking my table with the jerk of a customer after all.

The rest of the evening doesn’t get much better. Like Josh predicted, Mr. Peretti sends his food back to the kitchen twice. By the time Josh hands me the third pizza, his face is completely red, and he looks like he’s about to have a stroke.

Tell him if he sends this back again, I quit, Josh says.

There’s no way I’m relaying that message for him, but I don’t want to get on Josh’s bad side either, so I offer a sympathetic smile instead before walking out of the kitchen.

Mr. Peretti is on his third glass of sangria, and he starts slurring his words. Just great. A drunken version of him is most likely even worse than what I’ve experienced so far.

Here you go, Mr. Peretti. I place the pizza on the table. Josh says he paid extra careful attention to the amount of sauce, garlic, and sausage on the pizza this time. He hopes you’ll be pleased.

Mr. Peretti squints at the pie. Good amount of sausage, he says. Or at least that’s what I think he says. The word sausage has about six Ss the way he says it.

I smile and walk away. Melinda Peretti, Dante’s current wife, comes walking out of the kitchen. Hello, Mrs. Peretti, I say.

Hailey, right? she asks.

I only met her for about two seconds when I first arrived, so I’m surprised she remembers my name. Yes.

How’s your first day going? You must be exhausted. You’ve been here all day, haven’t you?

Yes, but I’m fine. Thank you.

She offers me a smile. Have you seen Dante?

Yes, I just brought him a pizza. I motion to the back corner table.

She looks past me. How many glasses of sangria has he consumed?

Three so far, I say.

She sighs. If you can find a way to cut him off, I’ll see that you get a nice bonus in your check this week.

It’s like she speaks my language. Consider it done, I say.

Thank you. She gives my arm a squeeze. Do me another favor, and don’t tell him you saw me. I can’t deal with him in his drunken state right now.

I haven’t seen you since this morning, I say.

I like you already, Hailey. She smiles again and hurries out before Dante notices her.

Misty, the hostess, turns and walks over to me. What did you say to make Melinda leave in such a hurry? she asks.

Oh, nothing. I think she had somewhere she needed to be.

Misty looks at her watch. It’s almost closing time. Thank goodness. She’s been here all day, too, so I’m sure she’s as eager as I am to leave.

I should go start cleaning the tables then, I say.

See you tomorrow. She gives me a small wave before walking back to the hostess station where her things are stored behind the stand.

I start cleaning the tables, and when I get to Mr. Peretti’s, he’s nowhere to be seen. Like Christian said, there’s no tip on the table either. The only things left are about two sips of sangria and a slice of the personal pizza. For complaining about his food so much, he certainly did a good job eating most of it. I grab the pizza tray and carry it to the kitchen.

Anyone left out there? Josh asks me.

Nope. All clear, I tell him. I look around. Where’s Christian?

Don’t know. He probably cut out early.

Maybe he saw the boss was gone and decided the coast was clear to sneak out a few minutes early.

Once the tables are wiped down, you’re good to go, Josh says.

I remove my apron. Well, in that case, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.

I’d say I’m looking forward to it, but I don’t think either one of us is eager to come back here.

Why is the employee turnover rate so high here anyway? I ask him, rolling my apron up and clutching it in one hand.

In a word, Peretti. He finds any reason to dock our pay, so watch yourself, Hailey. Anything you do wrong, like spilling that lemonade earlier today, will come out of your pay.

Just great. I sort of assumed new wait staff was supposed to spill at least one drink on their first day.

It’s so late when I get back to my apartment I send Ben a text instead of calling him. He’s been known to turn in early, and I don’t want to chance waking him. He left me a voice mail about two hours ago, saying he hoped my first day went well. I’m assuming he left the message because he was getting tired and was afraid he’d fall asleep before I got home from work. I type off a quick message to say goodnight, and then I hit the shower to try to get rid of the smell of garlic and cheese.

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I’m one of the first employees to arrive at the pizzeria on Saturday morning. I go in the employee entrance around back since the front doors don’t unlock until eleven. The one perk to this job is that I don’t have to be here until 10:30 in the morning, which means I can sleep in and go for a quick run before work. I feel better already about my second day on the job.

Josh is in the kitchen prepping for the day. You’ve returned, he says when he sees me.

Did you think I wouldn’t?

The odds were against it based on the history of this place.

I tie my apron around my waist. Yeah, well, I have to pay the bills, right?

Money talks. I hear you. It’s why I stay.

That’s funny because he said Dante Peretti finds any reason to dock people’s pay. I wouldn’t think it was money that kept Josh here then. Though I can’t think of what else it would be either.

Can I ask you something?

You want to know why I came back today, he says.

You don’t have to tell me.

No, it’s okay. My aunt is Sandra Peretti. I’m her brother’s son.

Oh. That does explain a lot. Sandra is Dante’s ex-wife. Dante probably gives Josh such a hard time because he’s related to her. It doesn’t seem like Dante and Sandra have the best relationship despite still running the pizzeria together. I can’t imagine it’s a comfortable environment considering Melinda Peretti is here a lot as well. I have no idea what the circumstances of Sandra and Dante’s divorce were, but having your ex-wife and current wife around at the same time seems like it would spell disaster for most people.

I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Josh says.

Me? I was thinking about how awkward this must be for all of you, I say.

Josh laughs. Yeah, I think Aunt Sandra likes to keep me on staff just to mess with Dante.

I’m willing to bet it actually messes with Josh more since Dante is one of the owners, and Josh has to take a lot of grief from him as a boss.

Anyway, I hope you’re not working a double again today, Josh says.

I cross my fingers. So far I’m not, but we’ll see what the day brings. I walk out into the dining area to wipe down the tables again before customers start to come in for the day. After I finish, I head to the bathroom. I don’t get many opportunities for breaks, so I figure using the restroom before we open is a smart idea.

I get a text from Riley, my best friend and town gossip columnist, although only a select few people in Rockland are aware of Riley’s secret identity as Rumor Robin. I knew I’d be hearing from her since I never checked in with her last night. I was too tired after my shower to talk to anyone and just crawled into bed.

I’m not paying attention to where