Spaghetti, Meatballs, & Murder

by Beth Byers

  “Come now,” Joyce said, “You don’t want to make Zee and Rose sad. They worked so hard on this cake for you. And you haven’t eaten nearly enough.”

  I rose as Joyce bullied Margot into eating cake and examined the pictures. There were several pictures of Kyle, of course, and of another boy. I assume the second boy was a brother or cousin. Someone Joyce loved as much as Kyle. I hoped. I hoped she had another son. There was even a picture of Tara and Kyle and also one of Tara, Kyle, and Morgan. There were also several of Joyce’s spouse including one outside of the cannery. What paused me was the sight of Eddie in those cannery coveralls.

  Chapter 15

  “Margot Bean? As in Tara Bean? Our Tara?”

  “Tara’s grandmother,” Zee snapped. She sounded furious. She slammed the car door and crossed her arms over her chest. “Drive towards your place.”

  I looked at her, shrugged, and started the car. The Johansson’s only lived a few blocks from Main Street and I wasn’t too far off of it. I turned down on Nehalem Road towards the ocean. The cottages I was staying in were at the very end of Nehalem, but there were about a half dozen side streets before Nehalem ended at the ocean. Zee directed me to turn down the second one and had me park at the cross-section. The house was on the corner of the two roads and it sparked a memory in me. This was where I’d heard people arguing the first day I’d been in Silver Falls. I had seen Tara leave this house in a rage.

  There was a line of dogwoods in front of the house, and I stood underneath one of them when a girl had come stomping out of the house after some screaming. I examined the house closely and found a charming yellow wood house with white shutters and a white porch. The grass was a swathe of green and the flower beds were a profusion of late planted petunia and bachelor’s buttons.

  Goodness, I hoped that Tara wasn’t the killer. A sick feeling was forming in my stomach, and I almost couldn’t get out of the car.

  “Don’t be a wuss,” Zee snarled opening the door and slamming it.

  When I didn’t immediately follow she leaned down and gave me a sour look. I took a long slow breath, told myself that finding the killer was the right thing to do, and followed Zee up the little cement path.

  Zee rang the doorbell ferociously and I waited behind her not wanting to be held responsible for the way Zee jabbed that buzzer.

  The door opened and a woman who had to be near Zee’s age stared out at us. The woman must have been Glory, Tara’s grandmother. She was near Zee’s size both in height and thinness, but her hair was cut in a style diagonal and looked to have been highlighted with shades of gray. She frowned and then finally said, “I should have guessed it would be you.”

  I paused at that, but the woman expanded, “Only Zapphirah Snow would ring the doorbell as if she were being chased by a band of pirates.”

  “Get with the times, Glory, — zombies. Surely you watch The Walking Dead.”

  The woman sniffed and opened the door saying, “Gives me nightmares. And it’s just gross.”

  “I’m surrounded by wilting flowers today. Both of you need to get a spine.” Zee said, barging past Glory and making herself comfortable on the sofa in the living room.

  “Why are you here?” Glory asked following more slowly She gave me a curious glance but directed herself to Zee.

  “This is Rose. She bought Jenny’s.”

  I just prevented myself from saying 2nd Chance, but now wasn’t the time. Instead, I followed Zee into the living room. The couches were worn and glass fishing floats were set here and there with seeming recklessness, but it all combined together to make a homey, deliberate picture. There was nothing pretentious about Glory Bean’s house despite its utter loveliness.

  Glory had been sitting in the living room and her armchair had a phone plugged into a little speaker. It was playing music softly next to where a book was laying open over the arm of the chair. I caught the picture of a teacup and was able to just read the title, Hot Tea & Cold Murder. My interest was piqued, but I knew I’d have to save looking that book up after the investigation was over. And probably after I’d stress baked several layer cakes.

  “And why are you and Tara’s boss coming to my house?”

  “You missing insulin? When did you become diabetic anyway?”

  Glory’s eyes narrowed. She and Zee stared each other down without either of them twitching a muscle in their faces or their bodies. There was something about the way they stared each other down that said it wasn’t the first time.

  “I might be old,” Glory said, “But I am not stupid. And none of your business.”

  “You’re not old,” Zee countered. “Because then I would be old. And I’m as sprightly as ever.”

  “That’s your sourness. Everyone else is feeling their age.”

  “Um,” I said, trying to calm the two women down who seemed to have a long trail of something nasty behind them. “Maybe…”

  “As it happens,” Glory cut in with a bit of a snap to her voice, “I am not missing any insulin.”

  “You lyin’?” Zee leaned back and crossed her bony leg over her knee.

  I had to press my lips together. She had just given me the nastiest look and I had to interpret it as Zee knowing what she was doing.

  “I am not,” Glory said. “How dare you come into my house and…”

  “Please,” Zee cut in, “We’ve known each other long enough for you to know better on that front.”

  Glory leaned back and crossed her fingers over her chest. She eyed us both carefully and then asked, “What’s your aim here?”

  “The diner was dead today. It’s never dead. That second-rate coffee joint across the street was hopping with people actually standing outside to wait to get in. Our regulars.”

  “Cry me a river,” Glory said. She sniffed and gave Zee a little smirk before glancing at me and saying, “Sorry.”

  She wasn’t, of course. She’d have been absolutely fine with me losing the diner if it made Zee upset.

  “I don’t understand,” I said, glancing between the two of them. Neither of them looked at me, and it couldn’t have been more evident that they didn’t care what I didn’t understand. But how could they both love Tara so much and still hate each other like this/

  “This ridiculous town thinks one of us killed Kyle. Maybe they’re focused on Rose right now, but you and I both know that’s stupid thinking and pretty soon they’ll start wondering about the rest of us.”

  “So you want to clear your name?”

  “All of our names,” Zee said. “Tara’s name. I would say can you believe the fools in this town? But who’s surprised?”

  Glory hummed in the back of her throat and then said, “I wouldn’t help you catch Tara. You’re here because you think she could have taken my insulin and killed that idiot.”

  “Do you think it’s possible Tara…” I couldn’t even finish. I knew my eyes were wide on my face and that I hadn’t hidden the shock. It didn’t matter. Those two old broads were focused on each other to the exclusion of me.

  “Tara loves hard,” Glory said. She left it at that and I wasn’t sure how to interpret something so vague.

  Zee cleared her throat and said, “We’re just trying to clear all of our names. We aren’t here because we suspect Tara. We’re here because…”

  “Because I’m diabetic, I have insulin, and you think my grandbaby could have killed that…” The distaste in her voice let me know exactly what she thought of Kyle Johansson.

  Zee cleared her throat and just stared at Glory and I decided to follow Zee’s example and just wait.

  “It just so happens,” Glory said slowly, “that I am not missing any insulin.”

  Zee uncrossed her legs and said, “Excellent.”

  “Not so quick,” Glory said, “I did, however, have to wait to get my prescription when I went to refill it last week. There was a snafu about their stock.”

  Zee leaned back in her chair. The venom had left Glory’s voice and the two women seemed to
come to an unspoken truce.

  Glory added, “I ended up waiting far longer than usual. Turns out that when the pharmacy was broken into a whole mess of drugs was taken, including insulin. Weird stuff. Antibiotics. Prenatal vitamins. Tylenol. A bunch of other things. The pharmacist—always a bit slow—was befuddled and bemoaning his fate. It took him a while to get me what I needed and he kept muttering about needed to get some more in right away.”

  “Insulin?”

  “Amongst other things…” Glory said with a sideways look at Zee.

  “Like drugs that users covet? Maybe like Kyle?”

  Glory started to nod and then admitted, “That I don’t know. I only overhead some of it. They saw me listening.” That sourness in her voice was back.

  “Would you kill someone using insulin?” Zee asked.

  “Do you want to know if I knew how? Of course I do. But did I?” Glory shrugged and then said, “I wanted to get rid of that stupid boy since Tara was in 2nd grade, but I didn’t kill him. I wish I had, in a lot of ways. Way back then. If I’d know what was coming…I might have.”

  I could hardly believe my ears. I mean…what did she know? I thought about the time my heart had been broken and how I’d cried in my mom’s arms. What if Glory had been the one to hold Tara time and again?

  “She wanted him back so bad, you know?” Glory sniffed and then she reached out and took Zee’s hand, “How did she become so willing to accept how he treated her?”

  “You know how,” Zee said, softly. She squeezed Glory’s hand. The two of them looked at each other remembering things I’d never know.

  “Oh I see,” I said suddenly glancing between the two of them.

  “See what?” The two of them faced me as one, heads tilted to the same angle, eyes squinted in the same manner.

  “You two…” I shook my head. Peas in a pod. Old friends. Old enemies. Given the daggers they were throwing at me with their eyes, I stood and said, “If you aren’t going to confess or tell us how Tara couldn’t have done it, I have errands to run.”

  Zee looked at me, but she was only a few blocks from the diner. She was more than capable of walking to where her car was parked or she could get Glory to provide a ride.

  “It was nice meeting you, Glory,” I said. “I’m sorry it wasn’t under better circumstances.”

  I escaped before they started throwing actual daggers at each other or, for that matter, me. I suspected that they’d fought over a man once—like 1960s comedy heroines. Or perhaps one of them had been the queen of some prom or squash queen or something and the other had been the very, very unhappy runner-up. Maybe they’d once been best friends and had a falling out?

  I got into the car, glanced at where Daisy should be sitting and wondered if I should get her first or…maybe, I’d head to the pharmacy? I was pretty sure it was at the end of the main street through Silver Falls. I needed a break, though. And to clear my head. Right then, I wasn’t sure if I suspected Eddie, Az, or Tara more, but I hated that I suspected all of them.

  Silver Falls was named after a waterfall that poured into the ocean. It was gorgeous, and I hadn’t been to see it since I bought the diner. Instead of going on with the investigation or the things I should do, I went to the state park and parked in the lot. It was deserted and wet and my shoes would be coated in mud, but I started the short climb to the falls anyway. When I reached the edge where the falls poured over the cliffs down into the ocean, I sat on the stone bench and closed my eyes.

  What was it, I wondered, about the scent of water in the air? Be it salty sea air, rain, or this waterfall that left me feeling so…willing to do strange and wonderful things? I had quit a steady job without a parachute. Sure, I’d inherited money, but I had never expected that. I’d been persuaded to investigate a murder which was not my responsibility and when I knew they’d never find evidence to falsely convict me. Sure it would have been uncomfortable for a few days, but once the killer was a caught, the diner would have gotten busy again. And yet, even as I took a break at the waterfall, ready to swig my next 5-hour energy drink, I knew I’d make my way to the pharmacy to see what I could find out and then to Az to get Daisy and ask him about his brother and the lies. Maybe even about the lack of the file.

  I shook my head and took a long breath. It was cold and my jacket was not enough for the Oregon Coast wind, but regardless I sat in the cold and let the peace of the ocean fill me. I wasn’t sure why this had become my life—I had envisioned something so much more cozy and sweet. But…it had come. It had come and this was my life, and as much as I’d like to step aside, I knew I would not.

  So, I finally rose and walked back to my car. I pulled out my phone and texted my mom long paragraphs of what I had on my mind and what was happening. I’m sure it would be a surprising jumble when she got it, but I wasn’t too worried. I just didn’t want to have to explain later why I hadn’t told her. As soon as I sent the final bit of the story, I drove my way down to the town again looking at each place, each passing moment afresh, new and beloved. In a lot of ways, it felt like fate had brought me here, and I was grateful for it.

  I went inside the diner, locking the door behind me, and walked down the long bar seating area. The bar was set up so that there was room to eat and sit and behind that a glass display where I put baked goods. On the top of that was my funky cake plates. I only had 3 so far, but I wanted to have enough for pie and piles of Christmas cookies before the holidays. I took a moment to admire my funky cake plates, the dark wood floors, and the new deep plum vinyl on the benches. The 2nd Chance Diner was starting to be what I had envisioned when I sketched into my journal back when I was stuck in call center torture.

  Chapter 16

  I walked through the entry to the kitchen and past it to the back of the restaurant where there was a wall with a long row of lockers. This was where we brought in deliveries, where we kept our shelves of food. The employee bathroom was back here and a small room that was shoved full of things I hadn’t had time to go through. There was an employee only sign on the other side of one door and you could access the area through that door and through the kitchen.

  I opened the first locker and found some things that clearly belong to Az. I shuffled through them, but it was an extra sweater, a knit cap, an extra set of keys, a picture of a woman that I hadn’t met, and another of his family. I closed it. Nothing there.

  The next locker was empty. The one after that was Zee’s. It had pictures of cats on the inside, a couple of bucktoothed little kids I hadn’t met, hair spray, deodorant. It was stocked with anything she might need, but none of it was suspicious.

  The next locker was Tara’s. She had random things like hairspray and an extra protein bar. I found a bottle of prenatal vitamins and remembered her saying something about trying to grow her nails longer. She had a note taped to the door in handwriting I recognized as Jenny’s saying, ‘Don’t Be Late Tomorrow!’ If I had expected a glaring sign of guilt, I didn’t find it. I sighed, feeling like quite the jerk for going through their things. I went back to my office and looked at the mess I’d made going through the files. I just…I just didn’t want to believe that any of them could be responsible for what had happened.

  Given the way that everyone had talked about Kyle—he wasn’t well liked. In fact, as far as I could tell only Morgan and Tara might even mourn the kid. Of course, his mother and his family were upset, but they were aware of what their loved one had been and their mourning was tinged by the fact that he’d made their lives so difficult.

  I walked out of the diner by the back door with that terrible thought. I was certain, if I died, my mom would be devastated. I thought Kyle’s mom sorrow would be tinged by how often Kyle had devastated her while he was alive.

  The pharmacy was about four blocks away out of the immediate downtown area where all the restaurants and touristy little shops were. I walked to it noticing two people actually cross the street to avoid me. Did they really think I was the killer? Maybe I was just r
eading into their movements. I passed the town hall and saw Roberta in the daylight in her office. She eyed me like I was trash, and I hoped the reason people were avoiding me. I nodded at her, though I had to force myself to and then crossed the street to go into the pharmacy.

  It wasn’t busy in there, but the guy behind the counter still seemed stressed. I smiled at him and said, “Hello.”

  He nodded and leaned down to pick up a box and carry it to an aisle near the registers. As he was shelving items, I grabbed a basket myself and decided to wander a bit, checking the place out. After a few minutes of grabbing random things, I had to laugh at myself. I had liquid eyeliner, mascara, Pringles, and four bags of fun-sized chocolates.

  I made my way over to the guy who was frantically stocking the shelves and cleared my throat.

  “Oh, can I help you?”

  He did not want to help me.

  I smiled at him and said, “Well…I heard you guys were broke into, and I was thinking of transferring my prescriptions, but I don't want to do that if it’s not safe.”

  What crap, I thought, but I glanced around as if I were nervous and just waiting for someone to jump out from behind the chips.

  “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that,” he scoffed. “They already fired the girl who was involved.”

  “It was a staff person?” Who, I wanted to demand, but I waited.

  “Well…” He stood up and said, “She was around when a lot of the thefts happened. Even if she didn’t do it. She probably knows who did. And the management isn’t happy about cans of formula, prescription drugs, and cash being stolen. There hasn’t been a problem since she got fired.”

  I tried to smile charmingly and then asked, “Who got fired?”

  He frowned at me and then said, “Morgan Brown. They didn’t prove it was her, though. You know? You can’t say she was a thief,” he said as if he hadn’t just said that.

  I smiled sweetly and said, “Oh I won’t.”