Mom sat just inside the door, on a long, wooden bench that held the overflow crowd on the rare occasions when diners had to wait for a table. She’d been perusing the laminated menu, but she looked up when I entered.
I surveyed the dining area and raised my eyebrows. “Are the tables full?”
“No, I thought I’d wait here for you.” She rose from the bench and returned the menu to the hostess stand. Shelley, one of the long-time waitresses, saw us and gestured toward an available table off to the side.
We made our way over there. I set my phone on the table and sat down. As soon as Mom took her seat, I rested my arms on the table and leaned forward. “Is everyone talking about Bethany’s murder this morning?”
Mom smoothed her napkin in her lap. “Every customer who’s come into the store has asked if I know anything. I’m fairly certain half the women aren’t even looking to buy clothes today. They just want to hear the scuttlebutt.”
“And what is the scuttlebutt?” For that matter, what did the word scuttlebutt even mean? Didn’t you scuttle a ship? What did that have to do with butts? I chided myself for getting distracted by such a silly thought and focused back on Mom.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you there,” Mom said. “I’ve been too busy telling the customers I don’t know anything to actually find out any new details.”
“Maybe there’s nothing new to learn,” I said. “Bethany was killed less than twenty-four hours ago. And if the police arrested someone, Jason would let me know.” At the mention of Jason, I automatically tapped the screen on my phone to activate it, but I had no new messages.
“And Mitch would tell me if he’d learned anything.”
“You two seemed pretty chummy last night,” I said, tempted to ask about his obvious flirting.
“I don’t know about that,” Mom said with a little giggle that reminded me of Ashlee when she was excited about a new guy. “But I bet he can help the police with certain information. At the very least, he would know who shopped at Bethany’s store regularly or if she was having any issues with the vendors. Word gets around among the businesses on this strip when a company isn’t reliable or charges more than they should.”
“That’s awfully handy,” I said, thinking how such a network could really help Esther and Gordon when they needed to contract with a service company. With the farm a few miles outside of town, we didn’t exactly have close business neighbors we could rely on.
“They even have monthly meetings to discuss issues that might be affecting all the businesses, like vandalism or loitering,” Mom said.
Shelley came over, order pad in hand. “How are you ladies doing on this bright, sunny day?”
I glanced out the window, where I could see the sun struggling to peek out from behind the clouds.
Shelley followed my gaze and then bestowed a dazzling smile of perfect teeth. “It’s always sunny inside the Breaking Bread Diner, no matter what the weather is outside. What can I get you both?”
I ordered a guacamole burger and an iced tea. I’d read somewhere that the avocado in guacamole was good for your heart. Mom requested the chicken breast platter. When Shelley had gone, I leaned forward again. “Between the monthly meetings and Bethany stopping by the ice cream parlor for an afternoon treat, you’d think Mitch and Bethany would have been closer. But yesterday, Mitch said they kept their interactions all business. In fact, he said she could be hard to deal with.”
“Mitch said that?” Mom asked.
Shelley brought our drinks to the table. I unwrapped my straw, slid it into the glass, and took a long sip. “So you don’t know what he meant by Bethany being difficult?”
Mom stared off into the distance and chewed on her lower lip. “I remember talking to him a few days ago, and he mentioned a meeting with Bethany.”
“About what?”
“He didn’t say. Only that he hoped she’d see the light and realize what a great opportunity she was passing up.”
“What opportunity was he talking about?”
Mom shrugged. “I haven’t the foggiest idea, but I got the impression this wasn’t the first meeting they’d had. Perhaps they couldn’t reach an agreement and that’s why he felt she was difficult.”
I fiddled with my silverware. “I wish I knew what the meeting was about.”
“You should be focusing on your wedding,” Mom said, “not trying to figure out what got Bethany killed.”
I didn’t answer as Shelley approached the table with our plates. I leaned back to make room. She set the burger before me, gave Mom her chicken, and left a bottle of ketchup in the middle of the table. After we thanked her and she walked off, I took a bite of my burger. The cool and creamy guacamole was a heavenly contrast to the hot burger. Juice from the meat ran down my hand, and I hurriedly wiped it away.
From across the table, Mom watched me and sighed. “I should have ordered the burger.”
I nodded toward her boneless, skinless chicken breast sitting on a lettuce leaf. A small pile of white rice and two broccoli stalks sat next to it. “Well, um, I’m sure that chicken is delicious, too.”
Mom laughed. “You’re a terrible liar, but thanks for pretending.”
I uncapped the ketchup bottle and shook it. A red blob plopped onto my plate. “Do you know Bethany’s daughter at all? Ashlee said she was planning to keep the store open.”
“That makes sense. Violet has worked at the shop for a couple of years, so I’m sure she knows all the ins and outs. Bethany and I were talking not long ago about letting our kids pick their own careers, but Bethany was thrilled that Violet might be interested in inheriting her flower shop one day.”
“When I stopped by yesterday at lunch, she mentioned that Violet was interested in changes to the business, but Bethany didn’t like any of them. She even joked about how Violet would have to wait another twenty years to get her hands on the shop.” I cringed at the memory.
Mom had been about to cut into her chicken but stopped with her knife and fork poised over the plate. “It’s like she sealed her own fate.”
I took another bite of my burger. “What else did you and Bethany talk about? She mentioned how I’d moved back home after being laid off, and I was wondering how she knew that.”
“It might have been from me. Bethany and I would run into each other every now and again since we both worked downtown. I’m sure I talked about you girls quite a bit.”
I sipped my iced tea. “What did you think of Bethany?”
Mom cut off a piece of chicken. “She was pleasant enough to talk to, but I wouldn’t call us friends. After all, friendship is a two-way street, and as much as Bethany loved to ask questions about my life, she never really seemed willing to share anything personal about hers. In fact, she seemed standoffish most of the time.”
I remembered how uncomfortable Bethany’s questions had made me. It sounded like she was that way with everyone. “Did she have any close friends?”
Mom dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “Not that I ever knew of, but then, I’d only see her occasionally near her shop, never anywhere else.”
We finished eating, and Shelley brought our bill. It was my turn to pay, so I left the tip on the table, and we walked up to the register together. Mom stepped off to the side to touch up her lipstick, while I waited for the cashier to finish ringing up the diners in front of us. Two middle-aged women entered the restaurant and hovered at the nearby hostess stand so they could be seated.
One of the women saw Mom and rushed over to her. “Dorothy, can you believe what happened at the flower shop? Were you working at Going Back for Seconds yesterday? Did you see anything?”
This must have been what Mom’s entire morning had been like.
Mom shook her head and plastered on a patient smile. “I was working, but I didn’t see anything, Tricia. In fact, I didn’t even realize something had happened until I heard the sirens.”
“Still, you must be terrified it could happen again.”
“I hardly think so,” Mom said. “There’s no reason to believe anyone else is involved.”
Tricia made a tsking sound. “I wish I had your faith. I’m convinced someone else is going to die.”
Mom frowned. If it hadn’t occurred to her before that the killer might strike again, she certainly couldn’t escape the ghoulish thought now. “I’m sure we’re all safe. Hardly anyone ever gets murdered around here.”
Tricia gave Mom an incredulous look. “Did you forget about that murder at the new day spa a few months ago? And didn’t someone else get killed not long before that? This town isn’t nearly as safe as you seem to think.”
The couple in front of me finished paying and headed for the door. I stepped forward and handed the cashier my tab, along with money I’d pulled from my wallet. As she rang me up, I turned to Tricia.
“I agree with my mom. Bethany’s death was an isolated incident.”
The other woman, who had remained silent up until now, let out a squeal and pressed her knees together, like a kindergartener who suddenly realized she has to go to the bathroom.
She stretched out her arm and pointed her index finger at me. “Oh my God, oh my God, it’s you!”
I took a step back. The change the cashier had been handing me slipped through my fingers. I heard the coins drop onto the glass top, but I kept my eyes on the woman.
Who did she think I was?
Chapter 9
At the other woman’s declaration, Tricia’s eyes went wide. “What are you talking about, Nola?”
Nola kept her finger pointed at me. “She’s the one who found Bethany Lancaster.”
I held back a groan. How did she hear it was me?
Tricia brushed past Mom and came over to where I stood. “What did you see? Was it just awful?” From her tone, it was clear she was hoping my answer would be yes.
“I didn’t see much,” I said. “I stopped by the flower shop for an appointment, discovered Bethany in the back room, and called the police. That was it.”
“Did you see any clues, like on TV? They’re always finding fingerprints and loose hairs that identify the killer.”
I felt like yelling at this woman to stop being so insensitive, that this wasn’t some TV show, but for all I knew she was an important customer where Mom worked. I kept my tone even. “I wasn’t looking for clues. I was looking to help Bethany.”
Tricia’s lips formed into a pout, as if she had expected me to say Bethany had written a dying message in her own blood or maybe I’d found a trail of footprints leading straight to the killer’s house.
All this talk about the crime scene brought memories from yesterday flooding back. I remembered Bethany on the floor, blood seeping out of her, her eyes open but unfocused. I could feel the guacamole burger I’d eaten start to protest, as if it might rise up in revolt.
“For heaven’s sake,” Nola said, snapping me back to the present. “Let this poor girl alone. She’s been through enough.” She looked slightly chagrined. “I should have left you alone, too. I was just so surprised when I realized who you were.”
Tricia looked down. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to badger you. I’m sure I sound like some excited gossiper, but really I’m terrified. My teenage son works afternoons at Get the Scoop. Thank God he wasn’t working yesterday, but I might make him quit after what’s happened. He’ll be furious, but I can’t help worrying that whoever killed Bethany might be hanging around, waiting to kill again.”
Nola nodded toward Mom and me. “Maybe they’re right, and no one else is in danger.”
“I’m not sure I’m willing to take the risk,” Tricia said.
I felt a slight pressure on my hand and realized the cashier was still trying to give me the rest of my change. I hastily accepted the handful of bills, picked up the coins that had fallen, and stuffed the money in my pocket.
As I did that, Shelley came up front, grabbed two menus, and led the women to a table, but not before they apologized again. After they walked off, Mom and I made our exit.
“Phew,” I said once we were outside. “This must be how celebrities feel. Well, minus the paparazzi shoving cameras in our faces, and all the money and perks that go along with being famous.”
“Was it really that bad?” Mom asked. “I thought Tricia and Nola were a bit dramatic, but nothing we couldn’t handle.”
“You’re right, although I do wonder how they knew I was the one who discovered the body.” Mom stopped at my car to say good-bye, but I motioned for her to keep going. “I have a few minutes. Why don’t I walk you back to work?”
We cut through the parking lot and out onto the sidewalk. Going Back for Seconds was down the next block.
As we settled into a walking rhythm, Mom said, “I’m afraid those women might have found out from me. Remember how I forgot I was in the middle of my shift last night? I had to explain to my boss why I’d been gone so long. I’m sure I mentioned that you were the one who found the body, and she probably told others. You know how fast news spreads in this town.”
I exhaled loudly, knowing Mom wasn’t exaggerating. Not only did news spread faster than milk spilling out of an overturned carton, the facts had a way of becoming more distorted with each telling. “I bet by the time the gossip makes its way back to you, people will think I’m the killer.”
Mom shook her head. “No one could ever think my sweet daughter is capable of killing another person.”
“You may be a teensy, weensy bit biased, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Mom came to a sudden stop and stared across the street. “Well, would you look at that?”
I turned to see what had attracted her attention. Violet was out front of the flower shop, sweeping the sidewalk. She wore a dark green canvas apron, maybe even the same one I’d seen her mother wear, over jeans and a T-shirt. The door to the shop was propped open, and the Open sign was lit.
“Wow,” I said. “Ashlee told me Violet would keep the business going, but I didn’t expect for it to be so soon. She didn’t even wait for Bethany to be buried.” For one morbid second, I wondered if Violet would be creating the flower arrangements for her own mother’s funeral, but I banished the thought from my mind. It was really none of my business. “We should go pay our condolences,” I said. I barely knew Violet, but considering I’d found her mother’s body, offering condolences seemed like the right thing to do.
I checked for traffic; then Mom and I walked across the street. As we approached, Violet glanced up and stopped sweeping. By the time we reached her, she’d set the broom on its bristled end and was clutching the handle as if it were keeping her upright.
“Can I help you?” she asked in a tone that implied she’d rather do anything but.
Up close, I could smell the cigarette smoke and coffee on her breath. Her brown hair looked just as unkempt as the night before, and her eyes were puffy. Maybe she should have taken the day off.
“Violet, I don’t know if you remember me. I met you a few weeks ago when I was here to talk about my wedding order. My name’s Dana. I’m the one who . . .” I waved my hand helplessly toward the shop.
Recognition dawned in Violet’s eyes. “You found my mom,” she said, her voice dull.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for your loss. Your mom was a lovely person,” I said. “So helpful and knowledgeable about her flowers.”
This earned a smile. “The customers loved her. This shop meant everything to my mom. Everything,” she repeated.
“Please let us know if we can help in any way.” Mom pointed across the way. “I’m Dorothy, and I work right over there in the secondhand clothing store.”
“Sure, of course. I’ve seen you around,” Violet said, her tone more animated. “And thank you for your offer. I’m handling the situation as best I can, but it’s nice to know people care enough to help.”
As we talked, I noticed several cars slowing almost to a stop as they eased by the shop. I wondered how many of these drivers were the same ones
who had driven by last night when the emergency vehicles were here. Nothing attracted attention in this town like a little murder.
“Someone told me you’ll be keeping the shop open,” I said. “I’m sure your mother would be pleased.”
“You already heard about that? Word gets around quick.”
She sounded irritated, and who could blame her? I’d just finished complaining about that very thing. “This place is the only flower shop in town. People must be curious about what’s going to happen.”
“They don’t need to worry,” Violet said. She tilted the broom handle against the curve of her shoulder to free up her hands, reached into her apron pocket, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She shook out a cigarette, flicked the lighter to life, and lit the cigarette’s tip. “I plan on running the shop just like my mom, at least for now. People will get their flowers.” She exhaled a stream of smoke through her nostrils and squinted at me through the haze. “Including you and your wedding order.”
I held up my hands. “I don’t want to add to your grief,” I said. “If you aren’t ready to handle my order, I could buy my flowers at the Meat and Potatoes market so you wouldn’t have to worry.” I realized I’d essentially said grocery store flowers were equal to ones from a professional flower shop. “Not that those flowers would be nearly as nice as yours,” I added belatedly.
Violet dropped her half-finished cigarette on the sidewalk and ground out the tip with her black tennis shoe. She rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. “Your order is fairly straightforward, and frankly, I could use the distraction. If I keep myself busy with work, maybe I won’t feel so overwhelmed about everything.” Her eyes followed the cars that drove slowly by. “And like the whole world’s watching to see what I’m going to do.”
Marriage Is Pure Murder Page 6
