Spaghetti, Meatballs, & Murder

by Beth Byers

  I laid-back into the water until I was entirely submerged except for my ears and my face.

  “Do you think the kid will live?” I asked as I sat up.

  Mattie shook her head. “Jane said it didn’t look good. He was flown to Seaside Hospital. He’s fallen into a coma. She doesn’t expect him to come out of it.”

  “Oh man,” I said. I hadn’t liked that kid. Not one bit after he’d almost killed me and Daisy and hadn’t apologized or even seemed distressed, but he was young. He might have matured. Become less deadly to mankind in general. “So, he and Tara dated?”

  “Yeah,” Mattie said. She stretched out her neck, took a sip of her wine, and said, “They were the couple that needed to be separated but never quite got rid of the other. Tara’s sweet until she's around Kyle. Then she’s sort of territorial and crazy. We all hoped after the last breakup that they’d stay broken up. Tara’s a good kid, y’know?”

  “I like her,” I said, and I did. She was sweet, she was tardy all the time, but she was bright and happy when she worked, and she worked hard. She didn’t have a problem delivering Zee’s food or scrubbing the grill for Az or taking Daisy out for me. “I hope she’ll be ok.”

  The doorbell rang and Mattie and I looked at each other. Mattie shouted to come in and a moment later, Jane walked in.

  “You made good time,” I said. It had been hours, but the drive from Seaside to Silver Falls wasn’t short. “Why Seaside Hospital?”

  “Given the nature of what was happening…” Jane said. “The hospital in Seaside was a better choice, but I left as soon as I handed him off.”

  “Will he make it?”

  Jane paused and then said, “Maybe. He’s young.”

  She made a face and my heart hiccuped. I didn’t want to think of that stupid, dumb kid dead. I wanted to think of him picking up trash on the side of the freeway for being a jerk driver.

  Jane continued, admitting, “I doubt it. Nothing we’re doing is helping. He’s not responding to the drug overdose meds. I got a message about him from the doctor at the hospital, but I just can’t. Is he dead? Maybe, but I want to drink some wine and let it go for now.”

  Mattie pointed to the bottle of wine and Jane joined us a moment later.

  “So, has Simon kissed you yet?”

  I dunked my head under the water to hide the blush. No. He hadn’t. Why? It was probably the frizzy hair.

  When I came up for air, Jane said dryly, “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “What does Simon say about Rose?” Mattie sipped her wine, but her expression was wicked. I suppose I couldn’t blame her since I was all ears.

  Jane glanced at me and then at Mattie. “Oh you know…she’s a nice girl. Nothing. He’s not stupid though. He’s noticed our wine nights.”

  “It’s unfortunate that he’s so observant,” Mattie said. “My life and your life are worthless for gossip.”

  “Not true,” said Jane, “You just have to be interested in the drama of the 8th grade.”

  “Pass,” Mattie said, and I nodded. Even if Mattie cared which she assuredly didn’t, I didn’t even know the kids or their families. Gossip about people you didn’t know was no fun.

  “Listen,” I said, but there was a knock on the door. The three of us looked at each other and then rose together. I put on my robe and was followed by Jane and Mattie. Daisy wasn’t barking which made me wonder if it were Simon, but…showing up like this was not like him.

  I toed Daisy to the side from where she was sitting at the door, tail wagging and peeked through the peephole.

  “Who is it?” Mattie asked. She didn’t sound concerned, but I knew she was. It had been on her face when we’d heard the knock.

  “It’s Simon,” I said as I opened the door. “Hey.”

  He didn’t smile at me like he normally did and he glanced over at Mattie and Jane and then said, “Good. You’re all here. How drunk are you?”

  “Not at all,” I said. I hadn’t been drunk since my early 20s.

  “Good,” he said again. He rubbed Daisy’s ears, but I suspected it was out of habit because there was no light in his eyes.

  “What’s going on?”

  “It wasn’t an overdose,” Simon told Jane. “It was insulin poisoning.”

  Jane’s face dropped into shock horror and she said, “I…we…we might have been able to help more if we weren’t treating drugs.”

  “Was he diabetic?” I asked. I took a sip of my wine and then set it on the countertop to start a pot of coffee. It was too late for coffee, but I suspected we wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon with or without coffee.

  “You couldn’t have known, Jane. There wasn’t any reason to suspect insulin.” Mattie had taken hold of Jane’s arm.

  “Especially with the history of drugs, right?”

  Jane’s face said she didn’t agree, but Simon didn’t wait to comfort Jane.

  “He didn’t have access to insulin,” Simon said. “His mom was very clear.”

  I sat down. “What are you saying?”

  “It was murder, Rose,” he said. “Someone killed Kyle Johannson.”

  Chapter 6

  “Who served his table?” Simon asked.

  I stared at him. My mind was tripping over itself as I realized what he was asking. He was asking who had killed Kyle. In my diner. In my 2nd Chance. This was not happening.

  I shook my head and then asked, with a bit of a plea in my voice, “Why are you so sure this isn’t self-inflicted?”

  “We have to assume it isn’t until we prove otherwise,” Simon said. His face had aged since I’d seen him last.

  This was not ok. None of this was ok. That first booth in my diner had been a place where someone had died. When it had been an overdose, it had upset me. It had taken a bit of the gloss off of my 2nd Chance. But this was so much worse. Someone deliberately taking the kid’s life away. Before he’d even had a chance to ruin his first chance and then have a second one.

  “I…no…” No. No.

  “I’m sorry Rose,” Simon said. He didn’t take my hand though. And his face had stayed firm. There was nothing that was soft or…interested in his gaze now.

  “Oh my…” I stared at him, feeling a rising sense of horror. “I’m a suspect.”

  His face blanked at Mattie cursed and Jane said, “Simon…”

  “Anyone who handled the food is suspect. Until we know more.”

  “Ok,” I said. “Well if I’m going to be interviewed about murder, I’d like to have some clothes on.”

  I rose and walked out of my living room. My hands were shaking as I toweled my hair dry, took off my suit and put on some jeans and a cozy sweater. I definitely needed a cozy hug of a sweater to be interviewed as a murder suspect.

  I walked back to the living room and poured myself a cup of coffee. Daisy was leaning against Simon’s leg, the traitor.

  I handed one to Jane and Mattie without asking them if they wanted one. It took a moment for me to be willing to give Simon a cup too, but I did. I was just so mad at being a suspect.

  “It was a mess,” I told him as I grudgingly shoved him a cup of coffee. He was a trained investigator, so I was sure he saw how angry I was and how little I wanted to give him coffee. “We were all serving each other’s tables. And the food was all the same. You saw. The only options were spaghetti with meatballs or without for the vegetarians. Anyone could have served that food.”

  “Whose table was it?”

  I shook my head and then said, “It isn’t that easy. With Zee—she does what needs to be done, so we all sort of help each other out and pool the tips. Everyone works together to keep the customers happy. Even on a normal day, anyone could have helped that table out.”

  “But whose table was it?” His voice was steady, but it irritated me how much he wasn’t listening. It was Tara’s, but I was pretty sure I’d delivered the spaghetti. Or maybe I’d refilled the drinks. And, of course, nearly every plate had gone through Az’s hands. Zee walked the entire
diner making sure that people had bread and refilled.

  “It was Tara’s,” I finally said when the weight of his gaze wouldn’t let me avoid it anymore.

  “And Tara and Kyle used to date?” Simon asked me.

  “They haven’t dated since I’ve known Tara. That’s all I can tell you.” I snapped, and my voice was irritated.

  As if I hadn’t been well aware that Tara was broken up over her boyfriend. I liked Tara. And it could have been anyone who killed that kid. This was just so wrong. It was all so wrong. Tara and Zee and Az…they were becoming my family.

  Simon sighed, and I felt a tiny bit guilty before the anger came back.

  “You saw the restaurant. It was packed. What is insulin even like? But….how is this different from anything else? Girls get roofied all the time in bars with their drinks nearby. It isn’t the staff who is the first suspect. A distraction at the right time and anyone could have done it. Anyone could have killed that kid. Or am I supposed to have just randomly selected someone to kill.”

  “Rose,” Mattie squeaked and then dramatically shut her mouth.

  “He’s doing his job,” Jane said gently. “No one here thinks you killed Kyle. Why would you?”

  I met Simon’s eyes, and I could see that he could think of a few reasons. I didn’t know how seriously he took those reasons, but I was pretty sure that they were clunking around in his head. I’d read enough murder mysteries to come up with a few without too much trouble. I just wasn’t sure what this would do to our friendship after he realized that of course, I didn’t kill that poor kid.

  “I know,” I said grudgingly. “It doesn’t make me love being a suspect, either.”

  “It’s ok, Rose,” Mattie said.

  “It’ll be fine,” Jane replied. “Simon is very good at what he does.”

  I couldn’t forget the fact that I was new here. Jane and Mattie and Simon had gone to grade school together, grown up, and then come back to continue their friendships. This town was full of those people. I was the outsider, and as the newest of the outsiders, surely I was the most disposable? I was playing with things like the beloved ‘Jenny’s Meatballs’, and maybe my fairytale happily ever after in my second chance was going to crumble into dust.

  What if they didn’t find who’d actually killed Kyle but they couldn’t prove it wasn’t me? Would I just be a suspect forever? Would I be selling 2nd Chance Diner and then having to hope for a way to a third chance? How many chances did I need before I would just give up and go back to Gresham?

  “Just tell me what you remember,” Simon said.

  “I…I went over and asked Kyle if he wanted a refill. I…” I didn’t want to say it, but I figured that the best route would be to be entirely honest. “I recognized him. I hadn’t seen him in the diner before, but after the accident, I couldn't forget his face.”

  “You’re holding a grudge?” Simon’s voice was even.

  “Simon!” Mattie protested as Jane whispered, “Hush. He has to ask.”

  My eye twitched. It was like I was on the phone again in the call center and someone was yelling me about policies that I couldn’t possibly change.

  I took a deep breath like I had done then and then admitted, “Yeah. I was mad. Really mad. If I hadn’t been paying attention—and I’d spent the entire day daydreaming—I could have died. Daisy could have died. I could have been crippled forever, and that punk didn’t even apologize. He didn’t…care.”

  “You don’t know that,” Simon said in that same even, commanding voice. His eyes were fixed on my face, but there was no light in them like there had been before, and the change was too obvious to not see it.

  I knew that voice. It was the one I’d used on the phones. Who would have even expected such a thing? Confident, calm, controlled. The same for call center reps as it was for police officers.

  “I know he didn’t apologize,” I said in my controlled, calm voice. “It’s not a motive. Not a real one though.”

  Simon noticed the change in my tone. It wasn’t one I had used since I quit my job at the call center, so none of my new friends had heard it, but it came back like an old friend. Or maybe like a wart you just couldn’t shake.

  “Did you bring the food to the table?”

  I took a deep breath and said, “I can’t be sure, but I don’t think so. Maybe.”

  “What about Tara? Do you know if Tara did?”

  “It could have easily been either Tara or Zee. It was crazy in there. What does insulin even look like? What if he went to the bathroom and left his plate unattended? What if he had a drink before he came into 2nd Chance? What if…a hundred things? You can’t prove it was my diner. That kid could have gotten that insulin stuff anywhere. You don’t even know yet if he didn’t do it to himself.”

  Simon didn’t respond to any of that and calmly asked, “Did Az ever say anything about Kyle?”

  I took a deep breath and then said, “No one ever talked about Kyle.”

  “Not even Tara?”

  “Tara is a waitress who comes in late every day, leaves the second she is off and works hard while she is there. She is significantly younger than me, and I’m her new boss. She doesn’t tell me anything. She cozies up and gives me crap lies to seek out the good shifts.”

  Simon glanced at me and then wrote down a note on his pad.

  “Of course, she doesn’t tell you anything,” Mattie said consolingly, “I wouldn’t either if I had a brand-new boss.”

  “Shhh,” Jane said. “Mattie, shhhh.”

  Simon just waited, so I carried on, “The only time I see her not talking about work is when she’s cooing at Daisy or apologizing for being late. I don’t know anything about her other than she eats a half a bagel with cream cheese and 1 slice of bacon for breakfast when she works in the mornings.”

  I took a sip of my coffee. It had gone cold, but I drank it anyway. I reminded myself that these people were not my enemies and that Simon was doing his job and that Mattie and Jane hadn’t turned on me.

  “I didn’t kill that kid,” I said. “I wouldn’t even know how.”

  “No one is saying that Rose,” Mattie said.

  “Anyone could google how. Anyone with a diabetic in their lives. Are you diabetic, Rose?” Simon’s voice had that same cool quality, but his gaze shifted that time.

  I warmed at the sight of him not enjoying his job. It was his job.

  Mattie took my hand, and I let her. She squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back grateful for the support.

  It took me a moment to admit, “I’m freaking out. Someone was murdered…maybe…in my diner. And it’s my second chance, it’s my dream. I would have said that I hated that kid…up until he started dying in front of me. I don’t know why I love feeding people and seeing them find joy in their food, but I do… this…tarnishes it.”

  “It’s possible that it was self-inflicted. People do choose that way to die.” Jane rose and took my cold coffee, dumped it in the sink and refilled it. “But Kyle wasn’t diabetic. No one in his family was.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked, taking the warm cup of coffee and letting it heat my hands.

  “Silver Falls isn’t that big,” Jane said. “I’m nearly everyone’s doctor. Kyle’s family is healthy like goats. They eat anything, they drink anything, and they're still sour cusses. The only thing that kills them is emphysema when they’re so old they’d rather die anyway.”

  “But you’re not Rose’s doctor,” Simon said.

  “She’s not diabetic,” Jane countered. “I am a doctor. She doesn’t have any signs of diabetes. She’s young, she’s strong, she walks everywhere, she cooks diner food, but she eats green smoothies and salads.”

  I rubbed my brow and said, “I’m not diabetic. My mom is not diabetic. The rest of my family is dead. My grandparents died in a car accident, my dad isn’t around. I don’t have siblings. I don't have close friends, but you know that.”

  Simon nodded and wrote another note.

  “We do
n’t know where the insulin came from,” he said. “I can’t be easy on you because I like you, Rose. Not even if I want to. I have to investigate this like any other crime. This was a murder, Rose. I shouldn’t even be explaining myself now.”

  I nodded once, but I didn’t have to like it. Any more than I liked how Daisy was leaning against his leg rather than mine or how his defection hurt more than a friendship of a couple of weeks should.

  “Simon will find the killer,” Mattie said. She was so soothing in her surety. As if I could count on him like she would be able to. I didn’t know if that was true…I wanted it to be true. I wanted to believe that I’d found something special here, but it was all too new to believe.

  Chapter 7

  I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but when I woke, Jane was handing me a cup of coffee, and I realized I’d slept in one of the oversized chairs that faced the ocean. Daisy was curled up on my lap, and I was all too aware that I was no longer 24-years-old.

  I stretched and then whimpered.

  “Oh man,” Mattie said. She sat up and said, “I should not have drunk the last of that wine or slept in my swim suit. What time is it?”

  “Six,” Jane said. She was eating a piece of toast and the moment she started to munch, Daisy abandoned me.

  “Why am I awake?” Mattie moaned.

  I sat up and said, “I can’t live like this.”

  “Like what.”

  “Like a murder suspect.”

  Jane glanced at Mattie and then asked, “What do you plan to do about it?”

  “I’m going to find out what happened.”

  “That’s Simon’s job,” Mattie said gently. “You can’t interfere.”

  “I don’t care. The main suspects are my staff. Maybe the girl that was with Kyle. And, of course, every other person that was in the restaurant.” My voice was full of sarcasm, but I just didn’t even care. “Anybody who might have been with them outside. And the stupid kid.”

  I walked into my bedroom, took a shower, and when I came back, Jane was gone.