Deep-Fried Homicide (The Laurel Falls Mysteries Book 1)

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Deep-Fried Homicide (The Laurel Falls Mysteries Book 1) Page 2

by Patricia Lee Macomber


  “Well, as I hear tell from the farmer who lives out that way, they tipped over a bunch of gravestones.”

  “One of the mausoleums was broken into, too,” Gallows added.

  The bell tinkled once more but Rachel didn’t even look up. Let Macy catch that one.

  “They stole some bodies. Old bodies, from the Civil War graves.”

  “Get out!” Rachel gasped, slapping her hand on the counter.

  “Oh, they did not!” The reply came from the large man with the deep voice who had just walked in the door.

  “Heya, Sheriff,” Rachel said with a smile. She reached under the counter and grabbed a coffee cup, slid it into position before him. When she had filled it, she stepped back, her face expectant. “You were saying?”

  Sheriff Mack Dooley was not only large, he approached behemoth. He stood a whomping six-foot-five and carried around a solid three hundred pounds. People called him “Big Mack” or “McCop” but for all of that, they held nothing but respect for the man. He had been sheriff for nearly twelve years and in all that time, no one had run against him.

  “These guys are just spitting out rumors, is all. Vandals is all it was. Probably some kids. They tipped over a few headstones and one of the mausoleums was open. Probably one kid dared another to go inside. Not a single body was disturbed anywhere. I doubt it’ll happen again.”

  Rachel twisted her mouth and nodded slowly and thoughtfully. “You’re probably right. Just kids.” Disappointed at the lack of mystery, she stood up again. “The usual, Sheriff?”

  “Thanks.”

  Customers ate and went. The flow was steady. When finally it petered out to just two customers in the diner, they all took their own lunch break. Each took their own meal, their choice, and sat at the long counter. Macy popped her shoes off, letting them hit the floor one at a time with a soft plop and a sigh. Rachel, ever the prim one, kept her shoes on but propped her feet on the stool beneath her, sitting Indian style. Rick marveled at how she could manage it without falling off.

  “Did you hear what Mack was saying? About the grave robbers?” Rachel chewed her food hastily, swallowing it down with a long drink of tea. “Some kids went into the old cemetery out by Cooper’s Point and tipped over some headstones and got into the mausoleum there.”

  “Grave robbers?” Macy gasped. She leaned forward to look past Logan at Rachel. “They actually took bodies?”

  “No, they didn’t actually take any bodies. Or at least the Sheriff said they didn’t.”

  Macy looked a bit disappointed at that. She returned to her food with a sigh.

  “Seems like we got a crime wave going lately,” Rick said. “The bank was robbed and the cemetery vandalized. I can’t remember the last time Laurel Falls even had a speeder in town.”

  Macy finished with her food and put the plate in the bin beneath the counter. Then she shifted over to the stool next to Rachel’s and began rolling silverware into napkins.

  “You see that girl sitting in the back booth?” she whispered, leaning in until her shoulder rested on Rachel’s.

  “Yea. I’ve noticed her.” Rachel deliberately didn’t look the girl’s way.

  “She’s been there since this morning, nursing a piece of pie and a Coke. She’s got a suitcase, too. I think there’s something wrong.”

  “Yea.” Rachel paused, cast a sideways glance her way. “I think I’ll go have a little talk with her.

  Rachel slid off the stool slowly, letting one foot touch the floor and then the other. She was careful to keep her expression steady, to keep her frown under control. As she walked over to the girl’s table, she thought of a million things to say. All of them sounded stupid.

  “Can I freshen your drink, hon? Looks like all the ice has melted.” She reached for the glass but the girl pulled back, taking the soda with her.

  “No, thanks. It’s fine.”

  “It’s all watered down. I’ll just….”

  “It’s fine. Really.”

  Rachel had had enough. She simply couldn’t take it anymore. Even as she slid her backside into the booth, she knew it wouldn’t end well. She knew that anything she said would sound mean or condescending. And still, that train was already in motion and, by now, unstoppable.

  “My name is Rachel. My husband, Rick, and I own this place.” She stuck her hand out and pasted on a smile, hoping for the best.

  “I know,” the girl said without even looking at her.

  Rachel let her hand dangle for a moment longer, then drew it back. “You’ve been sitting here for most of the day. You haven’t eaten your pie or drunk your soda. Now, I’m not mad or anything. I just wonder if there’s some sort of problem.”

  The girl looked up at that, her eyes darting away at once, her gaze coming to rest on the uneaten pie. “Everything’s fine.” Beneath the table, her hands wrung and twisted. Rachel could tell.

  Rachel sat back against the booth, her eyes still fixed on the girl’s face. She was young, no more than twenty-five, and certainly pretty. “I’ve seen a lot of people come through here over the years and I have a pretty good feel for the ones who have troubles. You strike me as one with troubles.”

  The girl said nothing, shifted in her seat like she wanted to run.

  “All right then. You’re not going to tell me what’s what, so how about I tell you? You got dropped off by somebody across the street, suitcase in hand. You walked right over here and came inside. You sat down and stuffed that bag of yours against the wall so nobody would see it. And you haven’t moved since. Now, I don’t care where you came from or what’s in that bag…unless it’s a bomb or something…”

  The girl’s eyes snapped up and she look at Rachel with a horrified grimace. “Oh God! Nothing like that. No.”

  “Didn’t think so. So, why don’t you tell me what’s really going on and maybe I can help you.”

  The girl studied her hands for a moment, looking like she just might cry. She managed to fight it off, though, and when she spoke, there was the slightest tremor in her voice.

  “It was my boyfriend who dropped me off this morning. He broke up with me. Just dumped me there on the sidewalk like a bag of trash. I don’t have any friends here and my family’s all the way across the country. I just didn’t know what to do or where to go. So, I came in here to sit down and think things over.”

  “And have you? Thought things over, I mean.”

  “Yea.” She bit into her lip, obviously fighting more tears.

  “And what did you decide to do?”

  The girl took a shuddering breath and when she spoke, her voice was so soft and so child-like that it made Rachel’s chest hurt. “I don’t know.”

  Rachel offered what she hoped would be a supportive and hopeful smile, then nodded. “All right. Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me everything. Maybe we can figure this out together.” She slipped her shoes off under the table and started rubbing her feet together.

  “Well, I came here about six months ago to start college. I was a transfer. I was working two jobs and going to school and barely making ends meet. My dad died and my mom is…useless.” Anger boiled up from someplace deep inside, tinting her cheeks red and making her jaw clench. “So, I was doing it all on my own. Which is fine.” She sighed.

  “You’re a strong girl.”

  “And then I met Mike. We met at a party and he was the handsomest, most gentle man I’ve ever seen. We started talking at the party and then we took some beers and went out to The Point. We just sat in his car and talked and before we knew it, the sun was coming up. That’s all we did is talk. He was so smart and so funny. I think I fell in love with him that very night.” That last brought a smile to her face and she lifted her eyes to meet Rachel’s gaze for the first time.

  “It wasn’t a week later that he asked me to move in with him. He said he’d never met another girl like me and that the thought of waking up without me even one single time make his heart ache. Isn’t that the sweetest thing you ever
heard?”

  “It is.” Rachel nodded and smiled.

  “So, I move in with him. It took the burden of bills off me and I was able to quit one of my jobs. And later, when he saw how I was struggling to juggle the other job and my classes, he told me that I should quit the other job. I told him that I had tuition to pay and books to buy, but he said he didn’t care. He said he’d take care of it, he just couldn’t stand to see me struggling that way.

  “So, I quit the other job and focused on school and on Mike. And we were so happy. He’s really a wonderful guy. That’s why this hurts so much. I mean, he’d just bring me flowers for no good reason. And he’d set up these dinners. One was on the top of The Point and there were all these lights around like fireflies. Another was at the beach. He’s just so…”

  “Sweet,” Rachel finished.

  “Yea.” She sighed again; a mournful sound. “But then I started to wonder…where did he get all that money? I mean, he didn’t go to work every day on any sort of schedule. And he went out sometimes at night and didn’t come back until almost sun-up. So I asked him. And he told me that he was a day trader, that he worked when he had to and that sometimes he traded on the foreign markets, which were only open at night. He said he didn’t want to disturb me while I was studying or sleeping, so he would go down to the café and work.”

  “But you didn’t believe him?”

  “No. I thought maybe he was doing something illegal.”

  “Like dealing drugs?”

  “That. Or something. So, I started searching his car and I kept questioning him. He didn’t seem to know very much about the market for a day trader, which made me even more suspicious. And the more I questioned him, the quieter and angrier he became. I should have just left it alone. I should have trusted him. That’s what he said when he broke up with me. I should have trusted him.

  “And then this morning when I woke up, he told me to get my things, all my things. He said to pack my stuff in a suitcase and get in the car. I asked him what was going on but he wouldn’t tell me a thing. Then he drove right into town and pulled up to the curb. He turned to me and told me that he couldn’t take my grilling anymore. That he couldn’t be with someone who didn’t trust him. He said we were through and to just get out of the car. I tried to reason with him. I told him I was sorry. But he just kept telling me to get out of the car.”

  “And that’s how you came to be here.” Rachel reached out and patted the girl’s hand sympathetically. A tear finally escape the girl’s eye and ran down her cheek. “Not to minimize your pain or anything, because I know how much something like this hurts, but this is all fixable.”

  “It is?” The girl looked hopeful for the first time all day.

  “It is.” Rachel smiled, waited a beat, tried to get common sense to take over. “You ever wait tables?”

  “No. I don’t have a place to stay. I don’t have any money. And I don’t have a lot of skills.”

  “Hmm.” Rachel let another beat pass, her brow twisting up a bit as she thought. “Okay. I can solve this whole thing for you….what’s your name again?”

  “Diane.”

  “Diane. Now, waiting tables is no big deal. Even if you’re a huge klutz like me, you can learn it. And you’ve got the best waitress in the world to teach you.”

  “You?”

  Rachel laughed. “Oh, heaven’s no! Not me. Macy over there. She’s top of the line. Cream of the crop. The number one best waitress who ever strapped on an apron. She’ll teach you everything she knows. The job pays minimum wage plus tips. Now, grab your bag and come with me.”

  From behind the counter, the other three watched her, their questioning faces following Rachel’s progress across the diner and to the board where the keys were kept. It was then that Rick knew how much trouble he was in.

  Rachel grabbed a set of keys off the board and headed for the back door, Diane in tow. The bright sunlight burned her eyes momentarily as she stepped out into it, but once she recovered, she was all smiles.

  “You see that right there? That motorhome?”

  “Yes…”

  “We bought that for family vacations. The four of us shut down the diner for two weeks every year and head for someplace we’ve never been before. And in between times, we park it right here. There’s a wall and a gate closing it off from the world, so you’ll be nice and safe. It’s yours if you want it…until you get back on your feet.”

  Diane looked at her, the hint of a smile twisting her lips. “Are you for real? I walk in here off the street and you give me a job I’m not qualified for and let me live in your RV?”

  “Yea, it’s what we do.” Rachel’s smile brightened and she tilted her head.

  “But you don’t know me from Adam. And I don’t have…I’m not…”

  Rachel jingled the keys and let her smile widen. “You want it or not?”

  Diane snatched the keys form her hand, then launched into a hug. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve meeting you, but I sure am glad I walked into your diner.”

  Rachel put her out to arm’s length, trying to look gruff. “Don’t get me wrong. This isn’t charity. You’ll work your butt off for every bit of it.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Except when school’s in session. College comes first.”

  “Always. But I don’t start again until the fall. Hopefully I’ll have it all together by then.”

  “I have faith in you. Now, come on. Let’s get you an apron and get you started.”

  Rachel looped an arm around Diane’s shoulders and tugged her toward the door.

  As they breezed back in through the door, it was Rick’s face that Rachel checked first. It was lit up like she had rarely seen before, his eyes sparkling as he watched them both approach. She stood before the trio, her arm still draped over Diane’s shoulders.

  “Everybody, this is Diane. She’s our new waitress. Diane, this is my husband, Rick, the best cook in the world. And this is Logan, the second-best cook in the world. And this is my best friend, Macy, the greatest waitress in the whole wide wonderful world. She’ll be training you.”

  Diane lifted her hand in greeting and waved feebly. “Hi,” she said softly.

  “Our new waitress, huh?” Rick cocked a loopy grin at her and checked her eyes.

  “Yup. And she’ll be living in the RV…at least until she gets back on her feet.”

  “Does that mean I can’t keep my recyclables in there anymore?” Logan asked. His smile said he was kidding but his eyes betrayed him.

  “You did not store your old cans in our RV!” Rachel declared, her eyes scalding him.

  “Yea, I kinda of needed a place to put them until I had enough to take in.”

  “And how much is enough?” Rachel asked with a growl.

  “At least thirty bags.” He checked her face, paled a bit beneath her glare. “You want me to go clear them out, huh?”

  Rachel said nothing by way of response, merely stabbed her finger in the direction of the back door and narrowed her eyes.

  Logan took off at once, both hands striking the door as he reached it. Logan, he of the jet-black hair, square jaw and angular features looked the part of a career Marine. Despite the bulging muscles and piercing brown eyes, he could turn on a boyish charm that made people forgive him anything.

  “Macy, be a love and get Diane fixed up with an apron and stuff, hm? I’m going to run that last load of dishes through and get the shakers refilled.

  Macy nodded in Rachel’s direction and smiled knowingly. “Come on, hon. Let’s start you off on the exciting road to waitressing.”

  Rachel headed for the back but ran into a Rick roadblock before she reached the door. She stopped suddenly, her eyes lifting slowly to meet his.

  “Our new waitress, huh?” he said softly.

  “Yea.”

  “Living in our RV?”

  Rachel blinked, looked away. “Yup.”

  “And is this a good idea?”

  Rach
el paused for a few beats, then nodded curtly. “It is.”

  “Okay, then.” He stepped aside and let her pass with a grand sweep of his hand. If he had any more to say about the matter, he would let it go until tonight, when they were home alone.

  Rachel smiled to herself and slipped into the back room, laying one hand on the rack of dishes and towing them toward the washer. Her mind was stuck on something, though, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Diane was okay, she was sure of that. But there was something off about the whole situation, something not quite jiving with reality.

  Like Rick, she decided to let it go until later. But then she would get to the bottom of it. There was something going on and she knew it. And she would have her answers…no matter what.

  Chapter 2

  The dinner rush was a little light that evening, but things picked up after the first movie showing let out. People came in for pie and cake and ice cream. The atmosphere was relaxed and jovial. Rachel watched Diane trail after Macy, Macy’s lips never ceasing in their movement, her smile never failing as she went about the task of training her new helper.

  At nine, Rachel flipped the sign on the door and Rick began dishing up plates of food for them all. They gathered at the counter just as they always did at that hour. They were a family, the four – and then five – of them and they ate together every night. Diane seemed to fit in easily with them. She was a bit more relaxed, though Rachel could tell that she wasn’t totally at ease with them all just yet.

  Halfway through the meal, as Diane picked at her food and stared at her plate, Rachel lunged across the counter to grab at something on the top shelf. When she righted herself, she was holding a name tag, glistening red and white, emblazoned with Diane’s name.

  “You’ll need this tomorrow morning. The customers are going to want to know all about you. They don’t see a lot of change around here.”

  Diane took the tag, ran her finger over the embossed letters as though they were holy scripture. Her smile widened and when she looked up, Rachel could have sworn she saw tears at the corners of her blue eyes.

 

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