Murder Ala Mode

by Constance Barker

  “High-maintenance, Brody? Me? Well, if one new dress every season is high-maintenance to you, then, YES! Yes, I am going to be high-maintenance! And my Fall, Winter, and Spring dresses are going to be a lot more that forty dollars! And there will be Prada shoes and Coach handbags along the way too! But in case you have forgotten, I own a successful diner and am quite capable of maintaining myself!”

  Brody, looked like I had just kicked his puppy, and I felt like maybe I had gotten too carried away.

  We both spoke at once. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, Mercy. You have nothing to be sorry for. I was just kind of teasing. But also, sometimes I feel like you’re, you know, way out of my league and I’ll never be able to give you all the things that a fine lady like you deserves.”

  I felt one inch tall and gave him a hug. Then I stepped back with a swagger and my hands on my hips.

  “You know, cowboy, you’re my man-candy. As long as you look pretty and give me a kiss whenever I ask, that’s everything I need. Now, let’s go get that report filed. I’m starving!”

  We had one much-needed cocktail at the bar and then moved to a candlelit table near the piano player. It was a classy, white-tablecloth restaurant with the best food in the area.

  Brody ordered his usual charcoal broiled steak – a T-bone today – with mashed potatoes and, in place of vegetables, au gratin potatoes.

  I was still looking at the menu while the waiter stood there. Beef and chicken would not be on my menu for a while after last night, but I didn’t really want the shrimp. Then Brody ordered for me.

  “And the lady will have the lobster tail – the big one – with clarified butter. Slightly steamed vegetables – just the broccoli, cauliflower, and zucchini – no carrots, please – and put them on the char-broiler for a while when they come out of the steamer. Also, a twice-baked potato with the non-trans-fat butter, real bacon bits, and yogurt instead of sour cream. She will have her salad ahead of the meal – a Caesar salad, but with iceberg lettuce instead of Romaine and a small ramekin of raspberry vinaigrette on the side.”

  “Yes, sir.” The tuxedoed waiter bowed politely to each of us and walked away.

  I just looked at Brody.

  “What? What’s that look for, Mercy.”

  “I really am high-maintenance, aren’t I?”

  He chuckled. “No. You’ve just really had an unpleasant day and deserve to have everything just the way you like it.”

  “You know me so well, Brody.” He really did. I was salivating for that pricey lobster. He knew, not just the way I liked my food, but he could sense my feelings and thoughts better than I could myself.

  “So, what did you learn from the lab results, Brody?”

  We talked for quite a while about lab results. The blood on the chef coat matched Randi Taylor’s blood type. And, since it was the only blood known to be in the restaurant last night, they were sure the DNA would confirm the match. They did find some hair and fibers in the duffel bag, but that wouldn’t incriminate JP if they belonged to him, since it was his bag. The only fingerprints on the bag, besides, JP’s, belonged to Dirk, who had carried the bag out from behind the curtain, so that seemed to be a dead end for now. I told him what Sylvia had said about the knife being twisted too.

  We ate our salads, which were delicious, and, as usual, I started to fill-up on the freshly-baked sourdough bread by the time my main course arrived.

  “So, are you any further ahead? Is JP Lamour your man, Brody?”

  “I really haven’t processed the evidence well-enough to draw any conclusions at this point Mercy. But here comes our food now, so we can talk about the case later. There’s something I think we should talk about first, though. He unfolded his napkin onto his lap as the waiter approached with a tray and looked at me with his hands folded on the table. “I can tell there’s something bothering you, and I really want to know what it is.”

  “Bothering me? No, I…”

  “Every time someone mentions the diner you get a faraway, sad look, Mercy.”

  He was right. I hadn’t really thought about it in words yet. I moved my water glass out of the way as the waiter placed a platter of heaven in front of me.

  “Maybe, yeah. It’s just that, there’s been a murder in my diner. I just don’t know if people will want to come back there – the workers, the customers – me. It’ll be one of those creepy places now that people avoid. It’s going to seem creepy to me too, every time I go in there and walk across the spot where that sweet girl died. I just don’t know if I can do it.”

  I could tell I was getting that faraway look right now, as I dipped a large piece of lobster into the warm, clear butter. I smiled as I put it in my mouth and gave a little shrug as I looked at Brody.

  “I’ve thought about that too,” he said, quite matter-of-factly. “And, near as I can figure, there are only four ways you can deal with it.” He had already devoured his au gratins and was halfway through the large side of his T-bone.

  “I’m open to your suggestions. Enlighten me, oh, wise one.” The lobster was so good, and the veggies were just the way I liked them – tender and charred.

  “Okay, well, first of all, you can do nothing. Just deal with it, see what happens, and let the chips fall where they may.”

  “Yeah, I’m not sure I’ll like where they’re going to fall. What else you got?”

  “Secondly, you could capitalize on the murder and use it as an attraction.”

  “Mmhm. Hurry, hurry! Step right up. Enter the Diner of Death! Only one thin dime, one-tenth of a dollar.”

  “I know. I don’t like that idea much either. But I’m just tossing out all the possibilities.”

  Brody paused to savor a large bite of his T-bone.

  “This food is great,” he said. “I’m so glad we didn’t go to Rocco’s.”

  It wasn’t long before we were on our last bites.

  “So, what are the other two scenarios?

  “Huh? Oh, for dealing with the diner of death.”

  “Yeah. I’m guessing maybe jump off a bridge or go back to nursing?”

  He gave me a very disapproving look. “No, although the nursing thing would be a possibility, if you could find something local. But you love the diner, and I don’t want to see you give up on it.” Brody wiped off his mouth with his crumpled napkin and threw it on his empty plate.

  “Why local?” I asked. “All the good nursing jobs are in the big cities.”

  “Because this is where your man-candy is, and…”

  He swallowed hard and I saw something in his eyes that I had never seen before. It looked like fear.

  “Let’s cross nursing off the list, Brody.” I reached across the table and put my hand on his. “I love it, but I would rather deal with goofy old Red and Jake and Junior than have to look at pain and suffering every day. So, what are the other two possibilities?”

  “Move to a new location, or tear it down and rebuild the diner where it is.”

  His cellphone rang.

  “One sec, Merse. Let me get this.”

  The diner was getting old, but there’s no way I could afford to rebuild it. The landlord that owns the next building with the bakery on the corner and the empty storefront right next to the Old School has been trying to get me to lease that whole space for a long time.

  “Mmhm,” I heard Brody say. “Put him on.”

  I think the bakery business has been dying since the new bakery opened up in the mall on the east end of town. It would be a lot more room, but it would still be expensive to turn it into a restaurant.

  “Wow, and you think it was arson? Is the fire under control? Where is it?”

  He held up one finger for me to be patient, and I nodded. Then he froze, and his face went white. I could see him gulp as he gradually raised his eyes to me. “I see. I’ll be right there.”

  He didn’t say a word, but I knew what had happened, and tears filled my eyes once more.

  “I’m so sorry, Mercy. Someone thr
ew a Molotov cocktail into the diner. It’s on fire. The firetrucks are there, and it’s not going to burn to the ground. But it sounds like the main level will be a total loss.”

  Chapter Seven

  This is not the way I was expecting my nice dinner to end. No time to sit, talk, and digest with a cold mango smoothie or a scoop of raspberry sorbet.

  Brody called for the check right away, and I dialed Babs’ number on my phone. She answered right away.

  “Thank God! Sweetie, are you home? Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m just fine, Mercy,” she said, sounding very calm. “I had just walked across the street to chat with Alice at the coffee shop. It looks like my apartment upstairs is just fine, but oh, honey, the diner doesn’t look good.”

  We kept talking as we got into my classic Mercedes. I let Brody drive so I could relax and talk to Babs.

  “Mercy, tell Brody that I got some pictures on my phone of the guy who threw the fire thingy. He was wearing a black hoodie, and his face was covered.”

  “Great. Now we have what sounds like gang activity in Paint Creek. Just what we need.”

  “I doubt that,” Brody said, never taking his eyes off the road, as he exceeded the speed limit to get back to town. The Country Club was about half way between Paint Creek and Calhoun.

  “Brody says he doesn’t think it was a gang,” I told Babs, putting the phone on speaker.

  “I think it’s related to the murder, ladies. The diner was targeted, quickly and by one person, as soon as it started to get dark. Someone wanted to destroy any evidence that might still be at the crime scene.”

  “That makes sense,” Babs said.

  “It does,” I agreed. “The bad news is they burned down the diner. But the good news is that now we will have evidence from two crimes to figure out who the killer is.”

  “Including my video, Mercy. It’s not very long or very steady, but if the person who threw that bottle is the killer, we’ve got him on video. Or her, I suppose.”

  We were just a few blocks from the scene now, so I ended the call with Babs. I could see the grey smoke rising over the rooftops from the fire, but at least I didn’t see any flames.

  As we got closer, we could see the swirling red and blue light from the police cars and fire trucks reflecting off the sky, the smoke, and the buildings.

  “Are you ready for this, sweetheart?” Brody asked tenderly, reaching for my hand.

  I couldn’t speak and just shook my head. I wasn’t ready at all to see the ashes of my life. I pulled myself together and finally answered him as he pulled to the curb across the street from the charred shell of the Old School Diner. “I’ll be okay.”

  He came around and opened my door.

  “At least we know now that I’ll be choosing option number four,” I said with a depressed frown.

  “What’s that, Mercy? Oh…” He seemed to be going through his option list in his head. “That’s right – you’ll have to rebuild the diner now.”

  At least that was a glimmer of positivity as we walked near the long hook-and-ladder truck. Jake’s big red pickup truck was next to it.

  Junior was the current chief of the volunteer fire department, and Jake was giving the floor inside a few final squirts from his hose.

  “That’s enough, Dad,” Junior told him. “Any more will just add unnecessary water damage.”

  Jake nodded his head twice as we all looked at the open black eyesore that was once my happy place. The front wall was mostly gone, and streaks of black soot ran up the front of Babs’ apartment upstairs.

  “Get me a couple of those long floor jacks, Junior,” Jake told his son, as he turned and walked back towards the truck. His head was down with the brim of the red hard hat covering his face, but I could hear his sniffles. This was a pretty emotional time for him and the others too, which helped me push my emotions aside. My nursing training and ER experience kicked in, and I was now in full control and ready to help others who might be suffering.

  “Jake,” I hollered over to him as he grabbed a long metal post from Junior, “put on your gas mask before you put those posts in there. Those fumes are still noxious and can overwhelm you in less than a minute.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. The sound of my voice seemed to brighten his mood, if only a little. Junior tossed him a mask and both of them pulled them over their faces.

  “I think two of them should be enough,” Junior added, grabbing another of the poles. It was probably eight feet long and 4 inches in diameter. “We just need to hold up the front wall to keep Babs’s apartment from collapsing. The beams and joists inside look like they’re in good shape.”

  They proceeded to put the two posts in place, adjusting them with wrenches and shim boards, one where the door had been and another halfway down to where a section of the front wall still remained.

  “My goodness,” a familiar voice said. “I heard all the sirens and commotion and saw all the smoke, so I thought I’d come and see what all the fuss was about. Never expected it would be my second home that was on fire.”

  It was Deloris, walking up to us with Red close behind. He was pulling his oxygen tank on his little two-wheeler and was wearing the hoses going to his nostrils tonight. I hadn’t seen him with his tank for a while, but it seemed like a good idea, with all the smoke tonight. Their faces were fixed on the sorry sight of the burned-out Old School Diner.

  The Fire Marshall’s crew had arrived and were already heading into the shell of the diner to investigate the cause and look for evidence that could help identify the arsonist. Elmer Rollins went in first to do a safety check. He rapped on the pillars, tried to shake the side wall and the remaining piece of the front wall, and then checked out the posts that Jake and Junior had just added.

  “Good job, guys,” he said with a salute to the firefighters, and then he waved for his crew to come inside and get to work.

  “I’m going to take a look too, Mercy,” Brody said squeezing my arm just a little before he followed the arson crew inside.

  “Well, folks,” I said to the others, “there’s nothing else we can do here tonight except have a pity party. So, you’re all coming over to my place for iced tea and lemonade.”

  “You’re going to rebuild it, aren’t you, Mercy?” Deloris asked, sounding a little out of character with her concern.

  “Yah, you’ll fix it back up, right?” Babs asked.

  “Of course. She’s gonna put it back just like it was,” Red said. “Aren’t you, Merse?”

  “I can help rebuild it for you, Mercy,” Jake offered. He owned the construction company and was a master builder.

  “Are you going to have snacks, Mercy? Or just lemonade?” Junior inquired.

  “There’ll be snacks, Junior,” I said, with my first real smile of the night, since the phone call. “And we’ll get all your best ideas for the rebuild.”

  Brody rejoined out group. “It’s dirty and sooty, Mercy. But it’s not as bad as it looks. The fire crew got here very quickly, thanks to Babs and Alice.”

  “And Junior!” Jake added, slapping his son on the back.”

  “I’m really grateful to all of you,” I said. “Say, Junior, where’s Liberty?”

  “She had to go back to Lexington. They needed her report a little early. But she’ll be back every-other weekend now.”

  I smiled and nodded. Then I put my hand out into the middle of the group, which had gradually been forming into a circle.

  “Everybody in,” I said. “On three: Old School Rides Again!”

  They all quickly put their hands on top of mine.

  “One, two, three!”

  “Old School Rides Again!” we all said loudly and in unison. The mood instantly became cheerful, and you could feel the excitement for a new and revitalized diner.

  “Let’s go!” I said. “Last one there fills the dishwasher when were done.”

  “Ooh, I’ll get there last, then!” Babs said excitedly, clicking on her phone. “It’s been a lo
ng time since I got to use a nice dishwasher like yours, Mercy.”

  Whatever floats your boat.

  “You’re riding with me and Red, Babsy,” Deloris said, and then she stopped and looked back at the diner.

  We all followed her gaze and saw a shadowy figure emerge slowly from the still-smoky old diner. Brody stepped in front of me, but I knew right away I didn’t need protection.

  “Smoke, what are you doing in there?” I asked him as I walked ahead a few steps to meet him. “You haven’t been in there the whole time, have you?”

  He was dejected, shuffling slowly ahead, so I put my arm over his shoulders and walked with him to the group. He was wiping his eyes from crying.

  “I guess I got some smoke in my eyes,” he said to cover up for his tears. “I was in the basement doing some inventory on my staples and decided to take a little nap. When I woke up from all the clatter, I couldn’t see anything. All the lights were out, and I couldn’t get up the stairs. Well, when I finally heard things simmer down and I figured I wasn’t going to die after all, I was able to get out and found out that my whole world was gone, burned up,” he said, choking a little on the last words.

  “Well, come on with us to Mercy’s place!” Red said with a big grin. We’re going to have a little party!”

  Smoke gave him and the other smiling faces a furrowed look. “What the heck are you guys so happy about? Party? The diner just burned down!”

  “I wouldn’t call it a party exactly, Smoke,” I said. “But we’re going to get together and make plans for rebuilding the Old School, better than ever.”

  He wiped under his nose with his finger, but he wasn’t convinced. “Better than ever? But I liked it just the way it was.”

  “You never liked that old flame grill much, did ya?” Deloris asked, “With the fire always going out on one side and making it hard to cook things evenly?”

  “Well, no, I guess not.”

  “And that walk-in cooler that froze everything in the back corner and didn’t keep things cold enough in the front,” I added. “The health inspector didn’t like it much either.”

  “Maybe so, but I always found a way to keep everything at the right temperature.”