Breezy Spoon Diner Box Set Collection

by Tracey Quinn

  “Hey, can I get onions on my hash browns?” Todd asked. “I like 'em better with onions.”

  “No you can't, dummy!” Maurice snapped. “Don't you know where those onions have been?!”

  I wished I had my black light with me. It wasn't good for finding stains anymore but I could still hit someone over the head with it. “I think you're the one who needs a different hobby,” I said. “Apparently the pool game in Chucky's Bar didn't hold your attention enough to keep you from going out to see Lloyd Duval on the night he was murdered. And the next time you try to sneak away from the scene of a crime, try not to hit other cars. That's 'how to get away with murder' 101.”

  Maurice scowled at me as he took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirtfront, which was dirtier than the glasses were. When he spoke, it was in a hushed voice: “Look, take it easy with the murder stuff, lady! Okay, so we drove out to that dump where Duval gave his lectures, but that's no crime; we didn't do nothing wrong! We didn't even see him!”

  “We didn't wanna see him!” Todd added.

  “Shut up and let me handle this, will ya?” Maurice retorted.

  “So you expect me to believe that you were just driving around to get some fresh air and you decided to play pinball with other cars for fun?” I said. “You went there because Lloyd was there.”

  “No, we went there because Lloyd's car was there. You've seen that car he drives, right? Pretty fancy wheels for a crumb like Lloyd. It had to be worth at least as much as the $15,000 he stole from me, so I figured I'd give him a taste of his own medicine!”

  “You were going to steal his car?”

  “Not steal; just hang on to it until that crook paid me my money back! The cops weren't doing anything to help me, so I had to help myself! In my book that's serving justice, not stealing!”

  “So when you just told me you didn't do anything wrong, that didn't include grand theft auto,” I said.

  “We didn't even take the car,” Todd replied. “The other guy wouldn't let us.”

  “What other guy?”

  “Todd, quit interrupting,” Maurice grumbled. “Yeah, so it didn't work out. We backed the truck up to the front of Duval's car but then we saw this tow truck was getting in position to hook it up from the back! I had Todd go tell the guy to take a hike, that the car belonged to us, but he wouldn't budge!”

  “I tried to make him leave,” Todd added, “but then he got mad and jumped out of the tow truck and started coming after me with a crowbar! The dude was huge! He looked like a- like a....”

  “Grizzly bear?” I asked.

  “Yeah, kinda like that!”

  “We didn't want any trouble with this maniac, we just wanted the car,” Maurice continued. “I tried to reason with him but there was no talking to the hot head! He was getting ready to ram our truck! Then we see headlights coming towards us and we had to get out of there! The guy in the tow truck peeled outta there fast too, so I guess he was some kinda crook only trying to steal the car for himself. It's his fault I swung a little wide and clipped the car driving towards us! He's the guy you ought to boycott!”

  Believe me, I plan to, I thought. One trip in Ray Belcher's tow truck was more than enough for me. I hated to admit it, but Maurice Sharp's story sounded plausible, and if it was true it meant that not only did I have to cross him and his son off my list of suspects, but I'd have to do the same with Ray Belcher.

  “Look, I told you what you wanted to know,” Maurice said. “Can we drop this whole boycott nonsense?”

  “And can I get some onions on my hash browns?” Todd asked.

  As I drove back to the fair I reflected glumly on what I had just learned. I supposed it was possible that either Sharp or Belcher could have circled around and come back to the rec center after the other had left; perhaps once the plan to steal Duval's car had been foiled, the only chance that remained for revenge was to kill him. But I had to admit that it would have been stupid to murder Lloyd right after a witness had just seen them at the scene of the crime.

  That left only Mayor Pumphrey as someone with a real motive for murder- well, the only one other than Gene McGee, and I wasn't about to believe that he was guilty. No, it was clear someone was framing him, not only for the murder but for the bank robbery as well. Was Mayor Pumphrey smart enough to pull that off successfully? It's true he wasn't good at much, but then again he didn't seem to put much effort into anything he did; maybe if he fully put his mind to something, he was more clever than he seemed. Somehow I'd have to find out where he went on the night Duval was killed; there had to be some way to find out if he went to the rec center.

  By the time I reached the fair it was just after noon and the crowds were thick around the booths and games. Mayor Pumphrey was standing at a podium in the center of the square preparing to deliver his eulogy/campaign speech. It was about the only spot in the fair that wasn't drawing a crowd. As I slipped between two of the booths I saw that one of them was selling colorful silk sarongs and scarves, and Teela was sitting behind the counter.

  “Ah, Miss Dani!” Teela called. “I have beautiful new silk sarongs from the islands. You will like to buy them I am sure.”

  Teela and her husband Bildad, a big surly brute who manages Sammy's Lounge, come from “the islands” as she calls them. Several times I've tried to find out from her which islands they are, but so far I'm no closer to knowing the answer.

  “They're quite beautiful,” I said. They were, too, but somehow I had difficulty picturing myself in a sarong. There are sarong people and there are not-sarong people and I was definitely in the latter category.

  Just then a high-pitched whine of feedback blasted out from the microphone on the stage, followed by the crackling voice of Mayor Pumphrey. “Testing, one, two, three. Testing, one, two, three.”

  “Not ready for prime time, as usual,” I muttered.

  “For mayor, he is not a good man,” Teela sniffed. “Always with the loud speeches, and always with the making of trouble! Just few nights ago Bildad not come home all night, and why not?”

  I decided not to hazard a guess.

  “It is mayor, that is why!” Teela continued. “He drink too much at lounge and then he fall asleep on pool table. Sammy tell Bildad that he have to stay watching the mayor so he not fall off the table and sue him. Bildad keep trying to wake him but even when all the sirens from police cars go by, mayor keeps snoring and not waking up. He is very bad man.”

  “Sirens from police cars? Was this the night that Lloyd Duval was murdered?” I asked.

  “Yes, it is night when bank is robbed and that man is killed. Mayor should be watching to make sure people in town are safe but instead Bildad watch him all night!”

  “That sounds about right,” I sighed.

  I was almost in a daze as I made my way through the crowd back to the Breezy Spoon booth. In a matter of an hour my whole suspect list had been torn to shreds! First Maurice Sharp gives himself and Ray Belcher an alibi, and now it seemed like Mayor Pumphrey was in the clear, too! This couldn't be happening; somewhere there was an angle I was missing. There had to be a clue that I wasn't seeing, and I needed to figure out what it was, and fast. If I didn't get to the bottom of this Gene McGee would be locked up for a long time for a murder he didn't commit, and I might never sell an onion ring again.

  That night as I sat in my office at the Breezy Spoon, I felt like I was no closer to clearing things up. I looked at my watch and saw that it was getting close to closing time. I decided I should go home and get some sleep and hope something came to me in the morning. As I left the office I saw the last of the customers heading for the door. The man had just come from the restroom and as he passed a table he stopped to take a few napkins to dry his wet hands.

  “Jimmy!” I fumed. I stalked to the kitchen where Brendan was wiping down the stove top. “Where is Jimmy?!”

  “He's already gone home so you'll have to throttle him tomorrow,” Brendan replied.

  “This ends now!” I growled
as I stomped into the restroom. I went to the paper towel dispenser on the wall and turned the knob on the side. A towel came out about an inch and stopped. I pulled on it but the end tore off in my hand without bringing the paper towels out any further. I took the round plastic top off the dispenser, but I couldn't see anything inside. We have a small step stool under the washbowl for kids to reach the soap and water, and I dragged it to the dispenser and climbed up on it to get a better look.

  I still couldn't see what was jamming the dispenser, but now I could reach in. I tried turning the roll manually but it wouldn't budge. I tried running my hand all around the outer edge of the paper towels and then across the plastic cylinder in the middle of the dispenser that holds the roll. There! I could feel something like a piece of plastic that was jammed in the cylinder. I could just touch it with my fingertips and move it around a little, but I couldn't quite reach it well enough to pull it out.

  I called to Brendan, “Can you bring me the salad tongs? I can't get this thing out of here.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn't prefer a bran muffin?” he called back.

  “You're hilarious. Remind me to roll on the floor laughing later.”

  Brendan pushed open the door and handed me the tongs. “What are you trying to do?” he asked.

  “There's a piece of plastic jamming this stupid towel dispenser and I can't reach it,” I said. I took the tongs and tried to fish it out, but whatever it was had rounded edges and I couldn't get a good grip on it.

  Brendan left and came back a minute later with a small ball of pizza dough. “Try putting some of this on each side of the tongs,” he said.

  I stuck the dough on the tongs and tried again. Sure enough, the dough stuck to the piece of plastic and I felt it slip free from the spot where it had lodged.

  “Brendan, you're a genius!” I said. “A lousy comedian, but a genius.”

  “Hey, we can't have everything.”

  Carefully I pulled the tongs free of the roll of paper towels and looked at what I had brought up. “It's a cell phone!” I exclaimed. “Who would drop their cell phone down a paper towel dispenser and not try to get it out?”

  “It doesn't look like one that belongs to anyone that works here,” Brendan said. “Let's turn it on an see if we can find out who owns it.”

  I pressed the button and the screen powered on. In a few seconds I saw whose phone it was and suddenly everything became clear.

  Chapter 14

  It was late the next morning in the lull between the end of the breakfast rush and the start of lunch service when I saw Zeke and Kristi Constable come into the Breezy Spoon. Zeke looked as uncomfortable and ill-tempered as ever in his hat and scarf, and as they came into the dining room I heard him say, “Of course I'm taking it off! I'm burning up in this blasted thing!”

  “Now pumpkin, you know how you get with drafts,” Kristi murmured cheerfully. “We don't want that bronchitis flaring up, do we?”

  “Let me get that for you,” I said, taking Zeke's hat and scarf.

  “Yeah, keep 'em this time,” he grumbled.

  “Why, Dani darling, when you called this morning you got us all on the edges of our seats, figuratively speaking,” Kristi said. “Just what is this exciting news you said you wanted to tell us?”

  “Come, let's sit down,” I said, leading them to a booth at the back of the dining room near my office. “I shouldn't say anything until the guest of honor arrives.”

  We didn't have long to wait; Zeke and Kristi had barely taken their seats when the big black Cadillac swung into the parking lot and Roger jumped out.

  “Dani, you're a real lifesaver!” he said as he burst through the door. “But enough talk about candy, right? Get it? Livesavers candy?”

  “What are you rattling on about?” Zeke groused.

  “It's good news, Zeke, very good news,” Roger replied. “Dani here has agreed to be our pilot after all! The sky's the limit now, right? The sky? Get it?”

  “Oh, that's wonderful!” Kristi said. “Isn't that wonderful, cupcake?”

  “It's about time,” Zeke muttered.

  “Yes, I'm sure you'll all enjoy flying in Roger's plane,” I said.

  “Of course, of course!” Roger said and then leaned in close to me. “Er, can I have a quick word, Dani?' We stepped away from the booth and he said in a low voice, “It's just going to be Kristi and me on the Aruba trip. Zeke gets airsick and all that, so Kristi doesn't think he'd be comfortable on such a long flight. We'll get good ol' Zeke up on a shorter flight later.”

  Just then Roger's phone rang. His ring tone was the Pina Colada Song, which seemed exactly right for Roger. “Excuse me, probably some venture capitalist wanting to invest with me,” he said, pulling his phone from his jacket pocket. “You know how it is with business! Always busy!”

  He took one look at the screen and suddenly all the color drained from his face.

  “What's the matter, Roger?” I asked. “You look like you've seen a ghost- or gotten a call from a ghost.”

  “It can't be....” Roger stammered. “It's gotta be a trick- this is all a big trick!”

  Suddenly Roger ran for the back door of the diner, but just before he reached it the door was pulled open and Bob stepped in, barring the way. “Where are you going in such a hurry, Roger?” he asked. “I think you'd better stick around for a while.”

  “But- but- I don't get it!” Roger looked at me. “How did...”

  “How did Lloyd Duval call you just now from his private number, you mean?” I asked.

  The door to my office opened and Mark stepped out, holding the cell phone that I had found in the paper towel dispenser. “I'm sure you recognize that phone,” I said. “It's the one you were burning down buildings to try to destroy; Lloyd's old phone, the one that he didn't use anymore but kept around because of all the messages it had on it between the two of you proving that you robbed the Kettletown glove factory together six years ago.”

  “That's a lie!” Roger shouted.

  “It's all on there; Lloyd had gotten a job at the glove factory, planning to learn when the money for the payroll came in so that he could steal it. The money was kept in a safe, but fortunately for Lloyd he knew someone from his high school days that would make a perfect accomplice; you were always in need of money due to all your get-rich-quick schemes that were constantly failing, and you had access to the steamfitter's tools and equipment from your father's business. So you broke in together and got away with the safe full of $15,000 in cash. You were going to bust open the safe and split the money 50/50, but then Lloyd got arrested for killing a man in a bar fight before that could happen.”

  “I don't know what you're talking about!” Roger protested. “Lloyd was a liar and a crook, and whatever he put on that phone is all lies! I've never had anything to do with him, and I hadn't seen him since high school!”

  “And probably hoped to never see him again,” I said. “You kept all the money from the robbery, but you didn't save Lloyd's share for him. That ended up getting used up in failed business ventures just like all the rest, and when you heard Lloyd got out of prison early, you knew you were in trouble. I don't think you had any idea just how much trouble you were really in, though.

  “You see, while Lloyd was in prison he was making plans to rob the Farnsworth Bank. He had spent a lot of time at the rec center when he was a teenager and he had learned that the bank vault sat just on the other side of the wall in the back room. That's why he leased the building under the pretense of putting on his 'Courage' lectures. He needed money so that he could look the part of the successful 'life coach'; nice clothes, expensive car, etc. He planned to use his share from the glove factory robbery, but when he got out and contacted you, he found out the truth.

  “Of course, you wanted nothing to do with Lloyd at this point. You had started a romantic relationship with Kristi Constable and she had convinced her rich old husband to finance your latest harebrained scheme, and things were looking up for you.
You had no intention of letting your old criminal career come to light and ruin what you had going.”

  “Now just a minute!” Kristi cried. “This is pure, bald-faced slander!”

  “Pipe down! I want to hear this!” Zeke snapped.

  “Unfortunately for you, Lloyd wasn't about to let you off the hook,” I continued. “He had evidence that could put you behind bars for the glove factory robbery, and he used that to blackmail you into helping him. You siphoned away money Zeke had given you for the airport project and gave it to Lloyd, hoping that he would leave you alone after that, but Lloyd had other plans. He'd need your tools and expertise again to break into the bank vault, or so he thought; it turned out that a kid with a kitchen knife could have broken into the Farnsworth Bank vault, but you didn't find that out until you had cut through the wall. Of course, that wasn't the only mistake Lloyd had made. He had underestimated you, Roger. He didn't think you'd go as far as murder.”

  “You can't pin this on me!” Roger shouted. “It's all lies!” Suddenly he made a dash toward the front door but he had barely gotten two steps before Bob's hand on his collar yanked him back.

  “I'm sure Lloyd had promised to destroy the evidence of the glove factory robbery if you gave him the money,” I said, “but then when Lloyd used it again to leverage you into helping him break into the bank vault, you knew that he was never going to let you out from under his thumb. So you came up with a plan of your own; once you had opened up the vault and Lloyd was distracted gathering up the money, you shot him.

  “You had learned from Kristi earlier that Lloyd had caused some problem with his ex-wife and Gene McGee had made threats to kill him in front of everyone at the Breezy Spoon. So you cleaned up the vault and hauled Lloyd's body to McGee's Market and tossed him in a crate behind the building. Then you broke out one of the tail lights on Gene's car and made sure that you were at McGarity's getting a tune up on the Cadillac when Gene came in to get the tail light repaired. I'm sure it wasn't too hard to slip the gun and a money wrapper from the Farnsworth Bank into Gene's trunk when McGarity was busy elsewhere.