Spaghetti, Meatballs, & Murder

by Beth Byers

  “You hear from her?”

  I shook my head and then said, “She’s usually not this late. But I heard that she and Kyle had been longtime friends.”

  Friends…or lovers…or enemies. They all seemed possible, but I wasn’t going to add to whatever gossip Simon had been hearing about me and my staff. I also wasn’t going to lie for the girl.

  “When she comes in,” he said, “Would you please tell me?”

  I nodded.

  “Can I trust you to have Az make me a sandwich for lunch?”

  My lips twitched and then I nodded.

  “Tuna on rye,” he said.

  I sniffed once and then called the order into Az.

  “Maybe you could put a piece of cake in a box for me,” he said. “Since you owe me one.”

  My laugh escaped then, but he didn’t react at all. I pulled down the chocolate cake not needing to hear what he wanted. The man really needed to try new things. Given the flavor of the lemon chiffon cake, I suspected it was, by far, the best of the lot.

  Az brought the order out. Given the way the bag bulged, I suspected Az was making his own apology for my prank. I added the cake and left Simon to Zee.

  “Keep it up,” Jane said as she paid Zee, “Simon needs someone who doesn’t cater to his every whim.”

  I handed Jane a slice of the lemon cake, all boxed up and said, “That was never going to be me.”

  “Thank you for what you did yesterday,” she said.

  I assumed she meant giving her the file Jenny had kept on Jane. I nodded once.

  “It means a lot,” she said.

  Speaking of, I reminded myself silently, go to the hardware store and get new locks for the office and the closet off of the office. I nodded again and then I said brightly, “No worries.”

  I didn’t want Zee to guess that Jane had a file in the office, that I’d given it to Jane, or to wonder what was inside. Jane lifted the cake slice, waved as she opened the door.

  Mattie dropped cash on the table and ran from the restaurant, yelping, “I forgot my early appointment.”

  I waved at her and then glanced at the one dirty table. I cleared it while Zee went about filling ketchup bottles. We worked in silence, waiting for Tara to show and wondering if Simon had found her. The quiet was too intense and said that all of us were worried.

  I didn’t want to believe that Tara could have had anything to do with Kyle’s death. I far, far preferred to believe it was the girl with him—Morgan. Or some random passerby who’d come in for spaghetti and a little side of murder.

  Not showing up, I reminded myself, was no reason to jump to murder. It just meant she was upset. And honestly, I wasn’t surprised she was. They’d been on again off again with kindergarten. I’d have been upset too. Even if the last round of off again had ended with hatred and fury. He’d been her first love. She deserved to mourn him without serving coffee, and it wasn’t like we needed the help.

  Chapter 13

  “I’m going to run an errand,” I told Zee as soon as we hit the midmorning. We were always slow from 10:30 to around noon when people started coming into lunch. Given how slow our morning had been, I was sure Zee and Az could cover anyone that actually came in.

  I made my way to the car, bringing Daisy with me. She hopped into her spot in the front seat and I drove towards the edge of town, stopping at the feed store which also had a hardware section. We restocked Daisy’s food and snacks and then I went and talked to them about getting a set of locks and having them keyed to the same. I explained I was replacing an office lock and had to have someone walk me through what I would need to do to change it. After a few minutes of my blank looks—DIY was not something that was my strong suit or even the vaguest of interests—I was offered that they bring it to me and install it. That was a service I was happy to pay for, and I checked out making my way to the customer service desk to set everything up.

  The officer who’d responded to my car accident was also waiting and I said, “Hello.”

  He nodded at me once, and I knew myself for a murder suspect from his perspective. I picked up Daisy to hide my emotions, and said, “How are you today.”

  “Just fine ma’am,” he said.

  My eyes narrowed in fury at being called ma’am, but I looked down at Daisy to hide my irritation. While I filled out the delivery form, I listened to the store manager talk about a recent robbery. My ears perked up at that—I thought this was a quiet beach town. Maybe I needed to re-key the entire store. I had no idea who had keys to the store in the past. Suddenly, with the death of Kyle, doing anything else was stupid. I waited my turn, determined to have the entire store updated. As I waited, I heard Roger, the store manager, state that he’d heard three other stores had been broken into or robbed recently.

  “Well yeah,” the cop said. “That’s true enough, Rog. But don’t worry. The convenience store gets robbed often enough. The pharmacy just had some unexpected things stolen—no actual robbery. Probably happened when the store was open, and Pop’s was robbed after closing time. They mostly took the petty cash and some steaks.

  I pressed my lips together. We kept our cash in a floor safe, so we’d be ok as far as that went, but I was definitely, definitely updating our locks.

  When the customer service person who was helping me came back, I said, “I heard you all had a robbery.”

  She nodded and said, “Someone broke the glass and took a bunch of stuff. It was a mess. But no need to worry.”

  “You know,” I said. “I think I’d be interested in updating the locks across the board at 2nd Chance Diner. Can y’all help me with that.”

  She nodded, but she said, “Silver Falls is a good little town. With the robberies and that poor boy, I imagine you’d be concerned, but even with everything, I don’t think there’s any need to worry.”

  “So you don’t think we killed him at 2nd Chance?”

  The woman laughed, but she didn't sound too amused. She shook her head as she said, “Any woman who would adopt and love that puppy, pay the boy for a free dog, keep Tara on, and put up with Zee and her mouth is not a killer.”

  The cop was clearly listening and the store manager as well.

  “Well, it just chaps my hide that you feel that way, sweet thing. Zee speaks highly of you, and you know…she doesn’t speak highly of very many people. She was right worried when Jenny sold to you.”

  I blinked and then realized that this woman was a friend of Zee’s.

  “What reason could you have to kill that boy? You or any of the folks over at 2nd Chance? People are such idiots.” She worked as she raged, and I felt better with every passing moment of her tirade.

  “It was one of his druggie friends. You just wait and see. Like in some NCIS episode. That boy was killed because of his poor choices. His poor mother. You know Marilyn is a good woman. Those Johansson men are rough and tumble, but they’re good men. She deserved her boy to be like the men in her family. Good men. Not the mess he was.”

  I pressed my lips together and then said, “Any death that young is real tragedy. His poor mother.”

  I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t know any of them and all I knew of Kyle was the sight of his dying face when I’d screamed for Jane and the sight of him not facing me when he’d nearly killed Daisy and me.

  “You’re too right about a young man dying being a tragedy. Even if it’s really for no one but his mom. You know she isn’t seeing the idiot you met. She’s seeing her baby. Her little boy. She’s remembering Halloweens and Christmas mornings and the first day of school.”

  I felt downright sick at that.

  “And, of course, remembering how she took care of him when he was sick and rocking him like mothers do. She’s wishing for those simpler times back when he was just hers.”

  “Oh man,” I said. “You sound like you know a little too much about loss like this.”

  “I’ve just sat with more than one woman who’s lost someone. I guess I can imagine it up. My b
oys, praise God, are alive and well. One in Seattle. One in Portland. Five grandchildren. I’m a lucky woman.”

  I was both grateful that things had shifted to her and wishing for more gossip, but with our audience, I felt like perhaps it was better to move onto things like grandchildren.

  “They sound lovely,” I said because what else could I say. She wasn’t wearing a name tag, so I didn’t even know her name. She was going to be the feed store woman until I could put a name to her face.

  “Well, dear, you are all set up. Now don’t you worry. These fools will find the killer, and your life will be back to normal. We’re right glad to have you here and to eat your good food. Your cakes have been the real highlight of my Friday afternoons.”

  Oh…she was the woman who joined Zee at the end of her shift. They cut a piece of cake and drank coffee together and stayed until after I’d mopped the floors and prepped for the next day. More than once, they’d been around when I’d started baking the cakes for the following day. I usually baked after closing time but before I went home for the day—only occasionally baking at the cottage like I had the night before.

  I paid for my things and told the woman I was grateful for her help. They’d be sending someone out to the shop around 4:00 pm the next day so that would have to be good enough.

  * * * * *

  We closed the diner without Tara showing up. Zee crossed the moment the closed sign flipped at 2:00 pm and she said, “We have to figure this out. We barely made anything today. You’re negative, sister.”

  She wasn’t wrong, we’d spent a good amount of the day working on things that didn’t need to be done. Every bit of the kitchen had been cleaned and restocked. I made cakes for the next day, cookies and pancakes. We’d be donating a good amount of baked goods to the shelter in Lincoln City when they came by to pick up in the morning.

  I glanced over at Zee and back at our empty diner. She was very right. I nodded to show my agreement. I wasn’t too worried about one day’s money, but without the inheritance money—days like this could kill a business. And of course…I wouldn’t be successful in my dream if I couldn’t make the diner profitable. First though, fix this mess. Then worry about profits.

  I said, “We aren’t going to recover until there’s no question we didn’t kill Kyle.”

  “You’d think they’d know better of us.”

  “They know better of you,” I told her. Though to be honest if I were to really imagine anyone as a killer—it would be Zee, but I couldn’t see it of any of us.

  I glanced over at Zee and then back through the window to Az. He was a good man, and he’d worked hard to keep me happy today.

  A part of me wanted to be like some horror movie female and wring my hands and demand for someone to help me. But as much as I’d been a passenger in my own life and let myself be carried into the call center and then only escaped after I’d been pushed far past my limits. But I didn’t want to be a passenger in my life anymore. I needed to take control of it—even if it was something like this which I had no control over.

  “What did Kyle’s mom say?”

  “She doesn’t think we killed him,” Zee said sourly. “Everyone else there seemed to. But she knew better. She even worried about you. Said her boy had owed you an apology and lied to her every morning about giving you one.”

  I sighed at the image of that. Kyle eating his Wheaties or whatever he’d had and experienced morning after morning of his mother asking him if he’d apologized to me. She’d been lied to every morning and every morning known her son for what he was and known that he was lying to her.

  “I feel so bad for her,” I said. She’d had the poor luck to have a son be partially lost to drugs, and she hadn’t given up. I loved her for it.

  “She’s a good woman,” Zee said, without any of her sourness. “With a real fondness for cake.”

  We all looked over at the untouched cakes. I’d cut exactly 3 pieces that day. One for Mattie, one for Jane, and one for Simon. Zee had a piece of the lemon for lunch, and Az had a smaller piece of each with his lunch.

  “Do you think she’d be offended if we brought her the carrot cake?”

  Zee shook her head and said, “Most of those folks work days. They won’t show up to comfort her—not in full—until after closing time.

  I glanced over at Az who nodded once. The diner closed at 2:00 pm. We had about 3-4 hours before the folks who worked to regular closing time were off.

  I hated to do it. To just show up at the mourning woman’s house with cake. But honestly—I would do it anyway. I would do it for me, and Tara, and Az, and Zee.

  “What about Morgan?” Az asked as we carefully boxed up the carrot cake. “Someone needs to talk to her.”

  “We’ll hit her next,” Zee said. “And then we’ll go after Tara.”

  I nodded and asked Az, “Would you keep Daisy? Can I come for her later?”

  And talk to him without Zee around. I wanted to see if I could get him to spill his secret. I didn’t want to believe he was the killer—in fact, I didn’t. But to be honest, I didn’t want to believe any of us were and at different times, I could imagine all of us as the killer—myself included—and I knew I hadn’t done it. It was crazy to be trying to find a killer. It wasn’t like I had a forensics lab, but I did have ears and a mind and a willingness to ask questions.

  Chapter 14

  Zee directed me to the Johansson house and we walked up to the door together. Before Zee knocked, she glanced me over and then said, “Remember we didn’t kill Kyle and we don’t have any guilt.”

  I realized that I had been feeling guilty. But I didn’t feel guilty about killing Kyle, I felt guilty about his death inconveniencing my business. Would I have brought a cake to this woman if he’d died from drugs? Goodness, I hoped so. I decided in that moment to be the woman who heard of someone else’s tragedy and reached out. I never wanted to feel guilty for bringing someone cake again.

  Zee knocked fiercely and—if you could declare with a knock—with utter innocence.

  The door was opened by a woman that I did not recognize but Zee said, “Hello Joyce.”

  “Zee,” she said. She glanced past Zee to me, her gaze fixated on the box and then she opened the door slowly, “You came again.”

  Zee stood there, without moving, and simply smiled.

  Joyce eyed them both, considering and then said, “I’ll tell Margot you’re here.”

  She let us in and then she said, “Just a second.”

  She held her hand out for the box, and I handed the cake over. We waited for a few minutes, and Zee sat down. She glanced up at me and hissed, “Being polite is leaving. Finding out what we need to know is sitting down.”

  Her intense gaze ordered me to sit. I took a deep breath and crossed to the chair. As I looked around, I could see picture after picture of a boy who matched the features of the young man who’d almost run me down. My sympathy was rising hard and fast, and I wanted to leave the woman be.

  “Think of Tara,” Zee hissed. “And Az.”

  I sniffed and crossed my hands in my lap, stiffening my spine.

  “Hello Margot,” Zee said. She didn’t adjust her tone from her normal tone. “This is Rosemary Baldwin, she was the one who called for Jane so quickly.”

  The woman nodded, her lips pressed together and she sat down across from us. Goodness, I hated myself.

  “Thank you for helping my baby,” she said.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I replied gently.

  The woman nodded, nibbling at her lip.

  “Rose made you a cake,” Zee lied. “It’s carrot cake. We hope you like it.”

  “Thank you,” she said. She sniffed and then said, “I’m sorry it’s just been a hard day.”

  “Don’t…please don’t apologize,” I begged. I reached out and took her hand without thinking, but her fingers dug into mine as if she had just been waiting for someone to let her know she wasn’t alone.

  “Margot,” Zee said
carefully. “I have been so bothered since I found out about Kyle. Is anyone in your family diabetic?”

  She looked up and she wasn’t thinking clearly enough to realize what Zee was doing or to see her heavy-handed lie. “Oh…no….we’re all healthy. Like horses.”

  She sounded like she wasn’t really registering what we were saying. I scooted closer to her, wrapping my arm around her and tucking her into my body. I wasn’t her friend. I didn’t know anything about her, but she sank into me.

  “Was he depressed?” Zee asked as I rubbed Margot’s shoulder.

  “Oh…no…he never was you know,” she said sniffling heavily. “He was so angry. Angry at everyone. He couldn’t say anything nice ever. He was mean to Morgan. Awful to Tara. He…was terrible to everyone. How could I be a little relieved?”

  She wailed a bit and I clutched her tighter, almost cooing to her.

  “You aren’t yourself,” Zee said flatly. “Your mind is racing and not at anchor. You don’t feel that way. Not really.”

  Margot shuddered in my arms but she was shaking her head slightly against my shoulder. “He was such wonderful baby. But by school…he was just always in trouble.”

  I hugged her even closer.

  “No one you know is diabetic?” Zee asked. She was maybe a little gentler, but her voice was firm. I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear her tell a dog to sit in the same tone of voice.

  “My mother, but she’s in Kansas,” Margot said, sniffling.

  “But here…no one you know in Silver Falls is diabetic.”

  “Oh…” She pulled away from me for a moment and sort of frowned at Zee. I was starting to suspect that Margot was on some sort of valium or calming pill. She was just too compliant. She shook her head and said, “No…no…I don’t think so.”

  “Well there’s Martha Pickerson, of course,” said the woman who’d opened the door. She crossed into the living room and handed Margot a piece of the carrot cake. “And Glory Bean. And Kiera Markowitz, and Gus Longfellow. Look dear, it’s your favorite.”

  “Oh…” Margot blinked down at the cake and said, “I couldn’t.”