Death At The Diner (A Moose River Mystery Book 7)

by Jeff Shelby

  “But we really should go check out his tacos,” Jake said.

  “I CAN STILL HEAR YOU!” Emily screamed from her room.

  FIFTEEN

  I was up early the next morning to square away the house chores I'd ignored the day before and because I had to work again. As much as I didn't like being away from the kids and Jake, I really had started to take to the routine that had developed in having to go to a job. I hadn't realized that I'd missed it, and I hadn't yet reached a point where I dreaded going to work.

  I was surprised to see Officer Ted sitting behind his desk when I walked in.

  He forced a smile in my direction. “Good morning, Daisy.” The dark circles under his eyes had faded, but he still looked pale and tired.

  “Well, good morning,” I said. “I wasn't expecting to see you back.”

  “Neither was I,” Priscilla Hanborn said, emerging from the hallway and dropping several files on my desk. They landed with a soft thud. “So now we need to get the paperwork done so we can make sure you're covered on medical leave.”

  Her tone left no mistaking that she was not looking forward to that task.

  “If you get it to me, I'll take care of it,” I told her.

  She raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Have you done medical leave paperwork before?”

  “No, but I assume it's not much different than filling out any other type of insurance paperwork,” I said. “And I spoke with the county's insurer last week about a couple of other things so if I have an issue, I can speak with her.” I smiled at Ted. “I'm happy to do it.”

  Priscilla grunted and looked at Ted. Nothing seemed to irritate her more than my cheeriness to take on tasks that she regarded as drudgery. So I tried to make sure I was happy as could be anytime there was some menial chore that needed to be taken care of.

  “Take it easy today,” she said to Ted. “If you need to leave early, let me know.” She disappeared back down the hallway.

  I sat down behind my desk. “How are you?”

  He smiled the tired smile again. “I'm alright. I was going a little stir crazy at home and the doctor said there was no reason I couldn't come back to work.” His shoulders were slightly slumped and every single movement seemed to take a great deal of effort.

  “Maybe best to stay on the desk, though,” I said.

  He nodded slowly. “Yes. For today. Not sure I feel up to being out on patrol.”

  “Understandably so.”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” he said, almost as if he was trying to assure me that he would indeed be back to form as soon as possible.

  “Don't rush it,” I told him. “It's covered, and you need to make sure you feel up to it.”

  He smiled again. “I know. Thank you for the reminder.”

  “Everyone's been worried about you,” I said. I picked up the stack of folders that had fanned out on my desk and rapped them against the surface, bringing them into a smooth stack. “So it's nice to have you back.”

  He looked around the office. “It's nice to be back. Wasn't sure I could stand much more television and surfing the Internet.”

  “I understand,” I told him. I wouldn’t be able to stand that, either. “And I ran into Elsa yesterday. She was worried about you, too.”

  At the mention of her name, he pushed his shoulders upright and his back stiffened. “You ran into Elsa?”

  “Emily and I were getting our nails done,” I explained. “At Wilma’s. She was there, too.”

  A different kind of exhaustion flitted through his expression. “I hope that...I mean...I guess...” He stopped and took a deep breath. “I apologize if she said some things.”

  I wasn't sure what he was talking about. “Said some things?”

  “I am a terribly private person,” he said, rubbing his hands together. His mouth drew into a tight line and I could hear the anxiousness in his voice. “I don't like to air my laundry in public. I don't think it's appropriate. And I certainly don't need people thinking I'm someone I'm not.”

  “Ted, all that she said was—”

  “I mean, I know she’s upset with me,” he continued, ignoring me. “But it's getting to be a bit much. I'm going to have to have a conversation with her because I can't keep defending myself.”

  “Ted, I'm not sure what you're talking about,” I said. “She didn't say anything that needs defending.”

  He blinked several times. “She didn't?”

  I shook my head. “No. She just said she hadn't spoken to you since the restaurant and that you would probably call her if you needed her and that you both were still friendly after breaking up.”

  His brows came together. “That's what she said?”

  I nodded. “Yes. That was it.”

  “And she said we were still friendly?” There was a note of disbelief in his voice.

  “She said that you both realized it was the...end of your relationship,” I said. “And that you'd both been agreeable.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Well, that's an odd thing for her to say to you.”

  I frowned. “How so?”

  Officer Ted rubbed at his eyes for a moment, like he was trying to keep himself awake. “Because she begged me not to break up with her.”

  SIXTEEN

  I went and got Ted a bottle of water from the fridge in the small kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. I took the bottle back to him and settled back into my chair, my hands cradled around my mug. Since it was the middle of summer, the air conditioning was on full blast. My desk was conveniently positioned under one of the vents so I spent the better part of my mornings chugging hot coffee and tea.

  Ted uncapped the bottle and took a tentative sip. I wondered if he was doing this because he was still worried about being poisoned again or because he just wasn’t terribly thirsty. He screwed the top back on and set it down. “Thank you. Doctor said that I need to be drinking lots of water.”

  “Always good advice.”

  “Right, right,” he said. “So, as I was saying, Elsa was not in favor of our breakup, so I'm surprised she told you that. Because other folks I've encountered have shared stories that have been...less than kind.”

  I wasn't sure what to say to that other than the truth. I wasn’t a fan of rumor mills or gossipmongers, even though they sometimes provided useful information during investigations. “She only said that she hoped you were feeling better and that you were still friends.”

  He took a deep breath. “Well, maybe that's a step in the right direction. Because that is not the path she was on very recently.”

  The words looked like they were hard for him to speak, and I wasn't sure if that was because he was still weak and in pain or because reliving the experiences was difficult for him.

  “She wanted to get married,” he finally said. His pale cheeks were now infused with color. “I...was not ready for that.”

  “I see,” I said. “And, Ted, you don't have to explain anything to me.”

  For a moment he was quiet and I was silently chiding myself for being so polite. I was curious as to exactly what had gone down, as I was now hearing a whole other side of the story.

  “Well, maybe it's time someone heard my side of the story,” he finally said.

  I forced myself to not breathe a sigh of relief. “I'm happy to listen,” I said instead. I settled into my chair and cupped my Moose River Police Department mug and waited for him to begin. The files Priscilla had dumped on my desk could wait.

  “She brought up getting married a few months back,” Ted said. He ran his hand over his balding head, almost as if he were looking to smooth back hairs that didn’t exist anymore. “I told her that's not quite where I was at. Excuse me for not sharing all of my reasons, but I was just not in that place with Elsa. She's a lovely person, and it's certainly nothing that she's done or not done. I just...I'm just not in that place with her.”

  I had no idea what Ted's relationship history was, but I knew what he meant. When Thornton and I divorced, I maintained t
hat I'd never get married again. Not ever. I wanted to focus on my kids and myself, and figure out just who I was after spending years identifying only as a wife and a mother. But then Jake reentered my life and everything changed. It had taken exactly the right person to feel okay with marriage again, and if Jake hadn't come along, I had no doubt that I would've remained happily unmarried.

  “And at first, she said that was okay,” he continued. “But then it became very clear that it was not okay. That she wanted to be married. Which I respect and understand. But as I said, I was just not in that place.” He sighed, a deep, long sigh that spoke to just how heavily this appeared to weigh on him. “She got angrier and angrier with me. I finally decided that it was becoming a barrier to our relationship and that we'd be better off separate than together.” He paused. “Actually, I shouldn't say that. I thought I'd be better off if we were separate.” He sighed again and it was just as deep and heavy as the first one. “Elsa didn't respond to that very well.”

  “It sounds like it was emotional for both of you,” I said.

  He nodded. “It was. I know I look like a guy who has a lot of fun and cuts loose most of the time, but I took this very seriously.”

  I managed to swallow the coffee in my mouth without choking. “Uh...right.”

  “So she was angry with me,” he said. “I didn't blame her for that. I understood. But I was standing firm in my decision. She saw that. So...it got a little ugly.”

  “Ugly?”

  The front door opened and Brad, our UPS delivery guy, walked through the door. He greeted us with a smile as he stacked a couple of small boxes next to a row of filing cabinets. I signed for them and he waved goodbye before hurrying back outside.

  Ted waited for the door to close before continuing. “Yes. She told a few people that she broke up with me. Which was entirely fine. I didn't care what people thought. But then she started making up reasons for why she did it. She told someone I was drinking too much. She told someone else that I liked to fire my gun into the ceiling of my garage. She said I liked to pull people over for no reason.”

  “So she was spreading rumors about you?” I was sort of surprised I hadn’t heard any of them. It wasn’t like I went snooping around town, and I had pretty much been keeping to myself after starting my job at the police department, but it wasn’t like I’d become a hermit. And with two teenagers in the house—one who apparently was very active on the community message board—I had a hard time believing I hadn’t at least heard a hint of the things circulating about one of my coworkers.

  “None of those things were true and I wasn't too happy to hear about them.” For the first time, I heard anger in Ted’s tone. “So that was why I asked her to dinner the other evening. To clear the air and to tell her I didn't appreciate what she'd been saying.”

  “And how did that go over?” I asked.

  He rubbed at his chin. “Well, to be honest, I'm not really sure. She sort of alternated between being angry and contrite. She didn't deny saying any of those things, but she was still making it clear that she wanted us to be together. I asked her why she said all of those things about me. She said she didn't. Then she said she did, but it was my fault for making her say them because she'd been so upset that we were no longer together.” He shook his head. “I'm trying to be patient, but it's become very difficult.”

  He was being more than patient. If someone had started telling lies like that about me, I probably would've gone ballistic. The fact that very few people who knew Ted would buy into those lies was irrelevant. She was purposely trying to hurt him.

  Which brought me to another point.

  “So I guess I have an obvious question then,” I said.

  He hesitated, then nodded. “I know. I know what the question is.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.” He stared at the water bottle. “Will we be getting back together? The answer to that is still no.”

  “That wasn't actually my question.”

  He glanced up. “It wasn't?”

  “No. I was thinking more about the poison in your meal.”

  “Oh,” he said. His brow furrowed and then lifted in surprise. “Oh. Oh goodness. I guess I hadn't really considered that.”

  “Well, she was upset with you,” I said, explaining my thinking. “She was making up stories about you. And you were having dinner with her. I don't want to point the finger, but it would seem as if she had the motivation and the opportunity. Doesn't it?”

  He rubbed at his chin some more, his eyes focused on the wall behind me as he considered what I was suggesting. I was surprised it hadn't occurred to him.

  “I don't know,” he finally said. “That just...that just doesn't seem like something Elsa would do.”

  “It doesn't seem like something anyone would do.”

  “I know that,” he said. “Which makes me think it was some sort of unfortunate accident.”

  I wanted to believe that, too, but finding poison in one's meal seemed like a tough thing to explain away as an accident.

  “I know she's been angry with me,” he continued. “And I know that I've been angry over the things she's said. But I just have a hard time believing that she'd actually try and hurt me over it.”

  I nodded. “Well, you certainly would know better than I would. It just occurred to me as you explained what you've been going through.” I paused. “And since she intimated that your breakup was mutual, I just wondered.”

  “Of course,” he said. “I understand all of that. I just...I don't know. It's just hard for me to see it.”

  I had no doubt that it was hard for him to see. But I had to wonder if that was because he didn't want to see it or because he was just too close to Elsa to think it possible. Both were understandable, but potentially naïve. We were talking about Officer Ted, though, and he wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. Nice and kind and honest, but not terribly sophisticated in his thinking.

  “And, Daisy, if I'm being completely honest here with you, I actually already had someone else in mind,” he said.

  “To marry?” I said, thinking that was fairly fast moving for good old Officer Ted.

  He shook his head. “No, no. I meant about who might've poisoned me.”

  That surprised me. Maybe I’d unfairly judged him after all. “Oh. Oh. Okay.”

  Officer Ted laid his hands flat on the surface of his desk as if he was trying to steady himself and took a deep breath. “I think Bjorn Born might've had something to do with it.”

  SEVENTEEN

  The phone rang and I was forced to answer it. It was a man wondering if he could sue his neighbor for parking an ugly car on the street. After informing him that there was no city code or state law that dictated what a car could or couldn’t look like, I hung up and tried to focus on what Ted had just told me.

  “You think it was Bjorn?” I asked. I made no attempt to hide my surprise. “Who poisoned you?”

  He took another drink from his water and after a moment's hesitation, nodded. “I do.”

  “Why?”

  He tugged at the collar of his uniform shirt. It was buttoned all the way up, the starched fabric pressing into his thick neck, and I almost suggested he go ahead and unbutton it a little.

  “Bjorn and I have a little bit of a...history.”

  “Enough of a history that he might've tried to...kill you?” I asked, still disbelieving.

  Ted recapped the water bottle, and I noticed his hand was shaking ever so slightly. “I don't want to accuse him of anything,” he said quickly. Except, he sort of was. “But there are two things that made me think of him. He was the one who made my dinner. So that would seem like some sort of a no-brainer.”

  I nodded. It was. If you were going to point the finger at anyone, you'd start by pointing in the direction of the person who prepared the meal. There was no avoiding that. Of course, if the food had been contaminated prior to arriving at the restaurant, this would quickly absolve him of any wrongdoing.
>
  “But he has not liked me for a very long time,” he continued. “We've had an ongoing issue over parking tickets.”

  “Parking tickets? Like he doesn't want to pay them?”

  “Well, that and he's tired of getting them,” Ted said, frowning. “Do you know anything about his deliveries?”

  I shook my head.

  “He goes and picks up most of his supplies himself,” he explained. “He goes to local farms and stores to purchase his food. All of which is terrific, by the way. My uncle's a dairy farmer in Wisconsin, and he's able to make a go of it simply because local businesses buy from him. So I appreciate and applaud anyone who buys locally. It's a great thing we don't see enough of in Moose River.”

  “Agreed,” I said. There were dozens of farms interspersed in and around Moose River, and I always made sure I stopped by the weekly farmers market to pick up summer produce instead of buying it in the grocery store for this exact reason.

  “So when he goes and purchases, he has an oversized truck that he uses. He said he bought it a few years ago and now that's all he uses it for. But when he returns from buying his supplies, he parks it right out front of the restaurant.” He paused. “In the fire lane.”

  I brought up an image in my mind of Main Street. I knew it didn't have a lot of parking to begin with. It was a narrow old street that, while maintaining some of its traditional charm, wasn't really designed for the traffic it was now seeing. The town had created several parking lots and stalls on the street, but it still wasn't enough to accommodate everyone who passed through or wanted to park and stay a while, especially during busier times.

  “I mean, I didn't create the fire lane, Daisy,” Ted continued. He gave me an apologetic look, almost as if I was the one who’d been on the receiving end of his ticketing. “That was decided upon by the city planners and the fire department. It's just my job to keep it clear.”

  “Sure. But people don't always...demonstrate their anger to the right party,” I said, thinking back to the blow-up I’d witnessed between Bjorn and Arnold, the man he’d been fighting with in his restaurant. He’d definitely had some anger, and it had spewed forth like an erupting volcano. I had no doubt that a similar reaction might have occurred after receiving one too many parking tickets, especially if it was a regular occurrence.