“I—”
John held up his hand. “Forget I asked. Let’s just concentrate on this one. Tell me about finding the body.”
“I was taking out the trash,” I stammered. “It was almost closing time.” I glanced at Carly.
She nodded. “It was right at eight o’clock. We only had a few stragglers when you went out.” Her face flushed, and she spoke to John. “We were busy cleaning, so we didn’t notice when she didn’t come back right away.” She flashed me an apologetic look.
He waved away her implied apology and turned his shrewd gaze back to me. “So what happened when you got out there?”
I told him as coherently as I could. Ricky scribbled in his little notebook while I talked.
“You felt for a pulse?” John said, looking at my apron.
I glanced down and froze at the sight of the rusty fingerprints. Apparently I’d instinctively wiped the blood off before I was clobbered. I clutched Alex’s hand tightly and nodded. “Then something hit me in the head from behind.”
“Did you lose consciousness immediately?”
“I must have. I don’t remember anything after that until I woke up staring at a tire.”
“What time did you come back in here?”
I glanced at Debbie, who shook her head. Then Marco, Harvey, Alice, and Carly. They all looked stricken. “It couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes after eight,” Carly said.
Marco pointed at Alice. “She called emergency. They will know what time, yes?”
“Yes,” John agreed. “So right after you came in, they called 911?”
“Well, once someone noticed me,” I said, irritated at the whine in my voice. Still, it had been disconcerting not to be missed. “Debbie got me some frozen peas.”
I looked over at Debbie who was leaning against the wall typing on her cell phone. She didn’t even look up at me.
John’s brows drew together. “Frozen peas?”
“For my head. But within two minutes, I’d say, Alice called.”
John looked at Ricky. “Get me the time of that 911 call.”
Ricky nodded and disappeared.
John turned back to us. “Had anyone else been out back before that?”
Everyone shook their heads, then Alice glanced up at Harvey. “Wait. Harv, you took the trash out about twenty minutes before Jenna did, remember?”
John fixed his gaze on Harvey, who nodded.
“Did you see a car behind the Dumpster?”
“I didn’t look behind the Dumpster. I knew if I didn’t hurry back in”—he glanced at Marco—“the salad bar would be in shambles. I just tossed the trash.”
I spoke up. “I wouldn’t have noticed the car if one of my bags hadn’t gone over and landed on its roof.”
Alice took Harvey’s arm and put it around her. “Just think, honey. There may have been a murderer right next to you.” She frowned. “It’s scary to think he was out there with you, Jenna.”
“Yeah, scary.” I gently touched the goose egg on the back of my head and looked down at my skinned knees. “And painful.”
“Do you know the guy’s name?” Debbie asked softly, slipping her phone into her apron pocket. From the drawn look on her face, the text conversation hadn’t gone well.
John nodded. “J.D. Finley.”
Debbie gasped. A couple of other people made noises, but I couldn’t be sure who. All of us looked at Debbie. Her face matched her white apron, and tears threatened to ruin her freshly applied makeup.
“I take it you know him?” John said.
She nodded and bit her lower lip. “He’s a friend of Lisa’s. They’ve been dating for a while, I guess.” She tried to wipe the tears away with one finger, but they tumbled down her cheeks anyway. “I’ve been out with them a few times.”
John gave her a stern look that I knew meant there would be more questions for her later.
She shrugged. “Poor Lisa. This will break her heart.” The last word became a quiet sob. Carly handed her a paper towel.
Bob’s daughter was lucky to have a friend like Debbie. As far as I knew, few people but her parents would have cared if it were Lisa herself who was out in that car in the alley.
John turned to the rest of us. “What do the rest of you know about him?”
Harvey nodded toward Alice as he answered for both of them. “We knew him.”
“Was he in here tonight?” John asked.
“I didn’t see him,” Debbie said, but didn’t look up.
“Me, either,” Harvey said. “And I was working the cash register by the front door, so if he’d been in here, I’d have known it.”
“Anyone know what he was doing out in the alley?” John asked us all.
No one answered. Finally, Alice spoke up. “Maybe he was supposed to meet Lisa? I mean, if they were dating, maybe they arranged a date here.”
I shook my head. “Why would he have parked behind the trash bin to meet Lisa here for a date? That makes no sense.”
John apparently agreed with me. He frowned. “Anyone see Lisa here tonight?”
We all shook our heads. Considering I quit my job and gave up my dream of owning the Lake View Athletic Club because of her, I was pretty sure I’d have noticed if my nemesis had been here.
Seth motioned to John from the doorway.
“Be right there.”
Seth nodded and disappeared into the dining room. John turned back to us. “If I think of anything else I need to ask, I’ll call you.”
“Wait. John.” I touched his sleeve. “Who is J.D. Finley? Is he from around here?”
“Jenna, I’m sure we’ll find out all there is to know about him before this is over, but this is official police business. You need to let us do our job.” The “and stay out of it” was implied as he turned toward the door.
“I think finding a dead body puts me right in the middle of it.”
He sighed. “Just this once, can’t you mind your own business?”
Alex shifted in his chair to look at me. “I’ll be right back, hon. I’m gonna ask John a couple of questions. Will you be okay?” When I nodded, he rose, and together he and the chief strode out of the kitchen.
I stood and walked to the staff bathroom to check out my head. No matter how I contorted, I couldn’t see the bump, but I could feel it. I blinked my eyes. No double vision. I didn’t feel particularly sleepy. And other than feeling a little disoriented from finding a dead body, I wasn’t dizzy. I washed my hands and opened the door.
“Surely you know I wouldn’t blame you,” Alice said as I stepped back into the kitchen.
She and Harvey looked at me and froze.
*****
*****
Chapter Three
As nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs
Harvey’s face lost most of its color, but he laughed. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve accused me of turning the burner up under your soup,” he said.
Alice’s answering chuckle sounded forced. “Of course, you’re right. But I’m not accusing you this time. Just saying that I wouldn’t blame you if you had turned the burner up in all this excitement.”
“I didn’t,” he said firmly.
“That’s fine,” she said.
I smiled weakly and walked into the dining room where everyone else had gathered. Whatever that had been about, it wasn’t soup.
Carly looked at me as I walked in. “You want me to go to the ER with you?”
“No, I’m fine. I’m going to stay and help you clean up.”
“You most certainly are not,” Carly said. Alex and John moved closer as if they were her strongmen ready to enforce her decree.
“I will help clean,” Marco offered.
Carly smiled at the twentysomething Italian. “Thanks. And Elliott’s supposed to stop by and help, too.” She turned back to me. “Go get your head checked out. We’ve got this covered.”
“I’ll just go home and rest then. The EMT checked me ou
t, and I don’t have any signs of a concussion.”
I’d expected an argument from Alex, but before he could say anything, John put his hand on my arm. “I think you should go on down to the ER.”
I smiled. “You, of all people, should know how hard my head is.”
He frowned. “I can’t believe you’re joking. You could have been killed.”
“Aw, it’s nice to know you care.”
Alex snorted. John and I had never really outgrown our childhood “one up” type of friendship. Bless her heart, my friend Denise, who married the big lout, always ended up having to mediate.
John shot me a wry grin. “Truth is, Denise would kill me if anything happened to you on my watch. If you have any symptoms, you go get it checked out.” He sauntered over to where Ricky and Seth were sitting at a booth looking at Ricky’s notebook.
As we walked out of the diner, Alex kept his arm around my waist. “You know in spite of his gruff talk, he thinks of you as a little sister.”
“Yeah, an annoying little sister that he wishes he could box up and ship to Siberia.”
Alex laughed. “I’m glad to see you getting back to normal. You were pretty pale when I got here.”
“Getting conked on the head tends to do that to a person.”
His smile disappeared. “You speak from entirely too much experience on that subject.”
*****
“Found another body, did you?” The old man from the feed store on Main Street gave me a snaggletoothed grin.
“Yep.” I gritted my own full set of teeth into some semblance of a smile and tapped my order pad with my pencil. “What can I get for you today?”
“I’ll have the meatloaf special. Gettin’ to be a habit of yours, idn’t it? Gettin’ involved with murder? I’m surprised you’re not out back helping the police look for the gun.”
His cronies laughed.
“Hush up, Grimmett,” Marge Templeton scolded from the booth across the way. “Jenna can’t help being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Grimmett” ducked his head, his weathered face mottled with embarrassment. Apparently he hadn’t realized that Marge was nearby. Her late husband, Hank, had been my first “wrong place at the wrong time.” Even though I hadn’t actually found the newspaper editor’s body, I’d eventually solved his murder. Sort of. And almost gotten myself and Carly killed in the process.
I gave Marge a grateful glance. We shared a bond of having been in a sticky situation together. I knew I could count on her to watch my back. She owned the paper now, and although it wasn’t common knowledge, she was also my boss. She and her niece, the new editor, were the only two people besides Carly and me who knew that I moonlighted as advice columnist, Dear Pru.
The other old-timers told me what they wanted to eat without incident. As I wove my way through the busy dining area with their orders, I admitted to myself that Grimmett was right about one thing: I’d much rather be out back with the police looking for the gun that killed J.D. But I had sense enough to know John would come unglued if I got anywhere near them.
“Ma’am! Ma’am!” A big-haired lady on the opposite side of the room waved her arm. “This isn’t what I ordered.”
I glanced around the busy dining area. Where was Debbie?
I made a quick detour to the woman’s table, and she gestured toward her plate. “I know you aren’t our waitress, but ours seems to have disappeared. I ordered a salad and chopped steak. This is meatloaf.”
I took the offending plate. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll be right back with your salad.”
“Thanks. I heard y’all talking about that guy that was killed here last night. Wasn’t he from here originally?”
I shook my head. “Not that I know of.”
She nodded to the mousy-looking woman across the table from her. “Didn’t your grandma say he grew up here?”
“Yes,” the woman said.
“I hadn’t heard that.” And as much as I wanted to hear more, I knew I needed to find Debbie before Carly lost customers because her wait staff was too slow. “I’ll just go get your order.”
I leaned over the counter into the kitchen to see if Debbie was in there. All I could see was orders piling up. I glanced over to the salad bar where Marco was dumping fresh lettuce into the huge stainless steel bowl. “Marco, I think Debbie must be on break. Can you help me serve for a few minutes?”
For the next half hour, we worked frantically, sorting out orders and making corrections and apologies.
When the lunch crowd thinned slightly, I thanked Marco. “Can you handle things out here for a few minutes while I find Debbie?”
He nodded.
I looked in the kitchen and even opened the mop closet. But no Debbie. Finally, I went to the ladies’ room and peeked in. Empty. I started to let the door shut, but a muffled sobbing drew me back. “Debbie?”
Just a soft hiccup in answer.
“Debbie? Is that you?” I glanced under the stall and saw her scuffed white tennis shoes, still slightly speckled with the butternut paint from the remodel. “I know it’s you. You might as well talk to me.”
She blew her nose loudly, and in a few seconds, the stall door creaked open and she stepped out.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“This whole murder thing. I just feel bad about J.D. It’s so sad.” She bent over the sink and splashed cold water on her red, puffy face.
I met her gaze in the mirror. “It is. Do you have any idea who might have killed him?”
“No, of course not. I barely knew him.” Her voice quavered, and she fished her brush out of her purse and redid her messy bun. “But poor Lisa.”
“Yeah.” I thought again how lucky Lisa was to have Debbie for a friend. Most people in Lake View probably wouldn’t have too much sympathy for the spoiled princess. “Do you know why he was here?”
She shrugged. “How would I know? Maybe he was coming to the grand opening.” Her voice broke. “But he didn’t make it.” She began sobbing again.
I patted her shoulder. “Debbie, why don’t you go ahead and go home? Marco and I can handle the rest of the lunch crowd.” It would be easier if we knew she was gone than if she kept disappearing to cry. I hoped Carly wouldn’t care that I was sending her most seasoned waitress home during the busiest part of the day. “If you feel like it, you can come back in later.”
“I don’t want to go home.”
“Then maybe you should visit Lisa. I’m sure she’s having a hard time with this.”
She nodded. “I heard they made her go down to the station this morning and have fingerprints,” she whispered.
Her unique way of phrasing that procedure made me fight a smile. “Really? They think she killed him?”
Her eyes widened. “Do you think? They said it’s just a formality because she rode in his car a lot. So they can figure out what fingerprints might be there that aren’t supposed to be.”
I quickly backtracked. The last thing I wanted to do was add to the overworked rumor mill. “No, no, I’m sure she’s not a suspect. Eliminating fingerprints that belong there sounds right. And anyway, why would she kill her new boyfriend?”
Debbie’s eyes filled with tears again. “Relationships can be hard.”
“Yeah, I know. But even though ‘breaking up is hard to do,’ don’t you think it would be harder to kill him?”
She pulled a tissue from the holder on the counter and loudly blew her nose again instead of answering. Should I have mentioned that was a rhetorical question?
I patted her on the shoulder. My mother and Carly were so much better than I was at sympathy and advice. Why did I always end up in these situations? “I’ll tell Carly that you’re taking the rest of the day off.”
“Thanks.” She gave a wan smile and left.
I hurried back to the dining room. From the corner of my eye, I saw Harvey directing a couple toward one of my tables. I grabbed two menus and headed over to take their orders. As I neared the ta
ble, I recognized Seth’s partner, Ricky, and Tiffany Stanton, the mayor’s daughter. Tiffany had moved back to Lake View only a few months ago to take a job as editor of her aunt’s newspaper, and Ricky hadn’t wasted any time in getting to know her. When the tall cop wasn’t on duty, you could always count on seeing them together.
Since her parents, Amelia and Byron, sent her to boarding school instead of Lake View High, I hadn’t known Tiffany well when we were growing up. But I’d always thought of her as the Anti-Amelia. She had pretty features, but it almost seemed like she did everything she could to hide them. Her naturally curly hair frizzed around her bare face, and she usually wore shapeless clothes or men’s jeans that did nothing to flatter her figure.
Today, even though she hadn’t changed a thing, she looked as radiant as a bride. “What’ll you have to drink?” My standard opening line.
“What are you having, Ricky?” She leaned toward him. “Sweet tea with lemon?”
He grinned. “You know me too well.”
She beamed at me. “I’ll have the same.” She waved her hand in the air, and I could tell she was showing off the huge rock on her engagement finger.
When I brought the drinks back, they thanked me.
I pulled out my order pad. “Congratulations on your engagement. Your ring is beautiful. Is the wedding soon?”
“Yes.” Tiffany flashed Ricky a coy look. “We don’t want a long engagement, do we, honey?”
He ducked his head. “The sooner the better.”
She scooted closer and kissed him on the cheek. “We’re hoping to get married next month. Although. . .” She pursed her lips as if she had tasted the lemon from her sweet tea. “Mother says she doesn’t see how we can possibly be ready in a month.”
I could understand that. My own wedding was scheduled for Christmas, and even though it was going to be small, I had a checklist that was quickly looming out of control.
“Speaking of your mother,” Ricky murmured and stood as Amelia and Byron Stanton walked toward us. I quickly grabbed two more menus while he pulled out Amelia’s chair for her to sit down.
Down Home and Deadly Page 3
