Grilled for Murder Page 13

  “What’s up?” She frowned.

  “Somebody stole the tree. My Christmas tree is gone. The one I cut myself! Someone stole it.” I strode the length of the store and back.

  “That totally rips. Who would steal a tree?”

  “My sentiments, exactly.” I wanted to grab a cast-iron skillet and throw it on the floor. Which would not help, exactly. I glanced at the clock and swore. It was getting near opening time, so instead I hurried to the sink, washed my hands, and picked up the fruit knife.

  “Are you going to call the police about it?” Danna asked, wrinkling her nose.

  “I don’t have time right now. Buck will probably come in for breakfast, anyway. He usually does.” When the timer dinged, I extracted the pans of muffins. I slid the nutty brown puffs out, grateful as always for the non-stick pans, and lined up the muffins on a cooling rack. I quickly rolled out the prepped biscuit dough and cut out a couple of pans’ worth of disks. As I opened the oven door, the bell on the front door jangled. I groaned before looking up to see my regular chess players.

  “Morning,” I called, pasting on a smile.

  The women, two taciturn senior citizens, said hello and headed for the square table I’d painted with a chessboard. They always brought their own playing pieces in a quilted bag, but I kept a set available for less-particular customers.

  After I put the biscuits in the oven, I brought over a pot of coffee and said, “The usual?”

  “Yes, please,” the taller one said. A rare smile lit up her deeply lined face. Her build was all angles and she wore salt-and-pepper hair pulled up on top of her head in a bun.

  The shorter one, with rounded, rosy cheeks and a sensible cap of snow-white hair, glanced at me.

  “Sorry we didn’t get in yesterday, hon,” she said. “We heared you was closed. Didn’t realize they’d let you open up again, after the murder and whatnot.”

  I smiled. “No worries. I’m glad you’re here today.”

  “Give us a couple of them special muffins, too, would you?” The taller one pointed at the blackboard.

  “And a side of bacon,” the other one added.

  “You bet.” I bustled off.

  The place filled up, and Danna and I didn’t get a chance to breathe until eight thirty. Phil dropped off the desserts on his way to work and I barely had time to say hello. A number of customers remarked on how cheery the place looked all decorated. Too bad I didn’t have a tree to go with it. A couple of regulars didn’t show, but maybe they were simply out of town instead of staying away because of a dead body. Buck ambled in at about eight forty-five carrying a piece of green paper.

  I poured his coffee and said, “Don’t tell me. You want both specials, two biscuits with apple butter, and two fried eggs with sausage.” I knew his hollow leg as well as my own.

  His nod was slower than pouring molasses in the middle of winter. “But first you think I might could pin this here notice up on your bulletin board?” He showed me the paper, which advertised a police department toy drive for needy children. “Does the boss approve?”

  “Absolutely. Do you want me to put a big cardboard box under it for toy donations?”

  “If you got one, sure. Or we can take and drop one by.” He ambled over to the community bulletin board I’d hung near the door and tacked up the poster.

  There was that take and phrasing again, which only accentuated that Buck was definitely from around here. It only took a couple of minutes to put together his order. After I set it in front of him, I glanced around the place. Two tables were occupied with hungry townsfolk tucking into their breakfasts and nobody seemed to want anything right now. I sat across from Buck.

  “I need to report a theft.”

  Buck’s eyes went way wide, but he forked in a mouthful of pancakes before answering. “You got burgled?” he mumbled, a speck of blueberry in syrup dribbling down his chin.

  “Yes. I cut a Christmas tree on Monday and left it in a bucket of water outside. I went to check it this morning and it’s not there. Not anywhere.” I folded my arms. “Who in heck would be so rotten?”

  He turned down the corners of his mouth. “That seems downright mean. When’s the last time you seen the tree?”

  I concentrated. “I don’t think I went out there yesterday. We got a delivery, but the guy brought the stuff in. So I guess I haven’t seen the tree since Monday.”

  “Think the delivery man might coulda taken it?”

  “I sure hope not.”

  “Give me the name and number of the delivery company. I’ll check it out. Don’t suppose you can describe the tree?”

  I hurried over to my desk and jotted down the information on a slip of paper. I handed it to Buck. “I don’t know the name of the variety. But, actually, I ran into Abe O’Neill at the tree farm. He helped me bring it to my car. I can ask him if he knows what kind of tree it was.”

  “I’ll keep my eye out around town. Except, you know everybody’s getting their trees these days. Don’t get your hopes up.”

  * * *

  We experienced another minor rush at nine, but by ten it was quiet again. I carried a load of dishes in my arms and was headed to the sink when I glanced at the wall calendar. Wednesday popped out at me like a pileated woodpecker hammering a dead tree, as Adele was fond of saying. I was supposed to pick up the glass for the door today.

  “Danna, I have to run over to the hardware store to pick up the replacement glass for the door. It’ll only take me a few minutes. Okay?” I slid the dishes into the sink.

  She waved me away. “No probs. I’ll get started on lunch prep.”

  I thanked her, pulled on my coat, and went out through my apartment so I could grab my bag. Normally I’d walk, but I’d have to haul the glass home, so I hopped in the van and drove the three blocks, which gave my brain enough quietude to let what Danna had said float back up to the surface. Erica by all reports was manipulative and unscrupulous. But to have an affair with a cop, then kill her husband and have the cop cover it up? That was a stretch.

  Barb greeted me with a big smile when I walked into Shamrock Hardware.

  “Hey, there, Robbie. Everything back to normal now?”

  “Pretty much.” I wasn’t going to go into details with her, not with a half-dozen town residents milling around inspecting extension cables, picking up boxes of screws, ordering paint.

  “What did you decide about the gingerbread log cabin? I’d sure love to see what you come up with.”

  I laughed. “Actually, I decided to enter and I baked the walls last night. My friend Phil is going to help me create it Friday night. You said you’re good at using icing, didn’t you?”

  She beamed. “Heck, I’m better at prize-winning roses made out of sugar than the Queen of England. You just call on me, hon.”

  “Perfect. I might have to.” I high-fived her.

  “You know you got to use royal icing to glue it all together. Sugar and egg whites.”

  “Got it. Any idea if my glass is ready? I guess I should have called first.”

  “Go on back and ask Don. He’s the one who knows.”

  I thanked her and headed to the rear of the store where Don was on the phone. He held up a hand, signaling for me to wait, so I stood there, hoping it wouldn’t take long. The restaurant could get another flood of customers at any moment.

  I snapped my fingers. I’d meant to bring the tool thingy in and ask Don what it was. I strolled over to the tools area and strolled down the aisle, peering at the selection of screwdrivers and drills. There were wrenches large and small, and pliers from needlenose to vise-grips. Nothing that matched what I’d found, though.

  “Robbie?” Don called.

  I turned around to see him holding a large flat package wrapped in brown paper. “Here’s your glass, and you already paid for it. You got your putty, your glazing points, your glazing tool?”

  “I’m all set, thanks.”

  “Assuming you drove on over?” When I nodded, he went on.
“I’ll carry it out for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  After he’d carefully laid the glass on the floor in the back of the van, he straightened. “How are things going, you know, with the murder and all?”

  “I don’t know anything. Except they haven’t caught the killer. And somebody stole my Christmas tree from outside the store.”

  “What a crying shame, Robbie. They just up and took it?”

  “It was in a bucket around the side by the service door. I cut it myself on Monday.” I shook my head.

  “Probably not much chance of finding it, this time of year.”

  “I know. Hey, Don, this isn’t related to anything, but I found a strange little object in my store. It looks like a tool, but I didn’t see one like it in your store. It’s got two little, like, levers or something. About yay long.” I showed him the size with my fingers. “I guess that’s not much of a description. I meant to bring it in and show you.”

  “It doesn’t ring a bell. But do bring it in next time, and I’ll see if it looks familiar.”

  “Thanks.” I headed around to the driver’s side as he turned to go back into the store. “See you at the funeral this afternoon?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t know her. And even if I did, well, God rest her soul.”

  Chapter 17

  When I hurried back into Pans ’N Pancakes with the glass in my arms, every table was occupied and Danna shot me a desperate glance from the griddle. This was crazy. Who ever heard of Wednesday at eleven bringing on a rush of hungry customers? I shook my head as I carefully set my load down by the service door, then quickly washed my hands and slipped on a clean apron. A crowd was great for the bottom line, but it made for a hectic morning.

  “Want me to cook or do tables?” I asked her.

  “You cook, I’ll do the front.” She headed toward a table full of folks who were looking impatient. “And we’re almost out of biscuits,” she called over her shoulder.

  “I’m on it.” I checked the order slips clipped into the rack at eye level. I laid six strips of bacon on the griddle and poured twelve perfect circles of pancake batter, the blueberries sticking up like little round boats in a pond. After I stirred the meat gravy, I laid two biscuits on a small plate and ladled gravy on top, the crumbles of sausage bumpy under the sauce. A kitchen-sink omelet, three bowls of fruit salad, and an order of two eggs sunny-side up later, I slapped the little bell we used to indicate orders were ready.

  When Danna picked up the plates, I said, “How’d lunch prep go? Did you finish?”

  “I think we’re all set.”

  I rolled out the last of the biscuit dough and slid a panful into the oven. It was getting near lunch time—even though we cooked breakfasts all day, we didn’t offer the lunch menu until eleven thirty—so I loaded up the warmer with buns. And the rush never let up. Lunch customers started ordering burgers at eleven thirty sharp. The air was redolent with the mixed aromas of berries sizzling next to beef patties doing the same. When Abe materialized at my side at noon, the griddle in front of me was full and a couple of parties were waiting for tables.

  “Popular place today,” he said with a grin, his big brown eyes smiling, too. “Where do I start?”

  “Wash your hands and grab an apron.” I pointed to the box of clean store aprons. “Then I’ll show you where we keep things. You and Danna can decide if you want to cook or work the front, which means taking orders, delivering food, and busing tables.”

  “Your wish is my command, madam.” He stuck one foot out and bowed, making circle waves with his hand toward the floor before straightening and heading for the sink.

  I laughed. “I really appreciate your help. I’ll finish this batch of burgers and then go get changed.” I flipped all the patties on the griddle and added slices of cheese to the two black bean veggie burgers and to one of the turkey patties.

  From the sink, Abe said, “Looks like you didn’t get your door fixed yet.” He gestured with his head toward the front.

  “I know. Picked up the glass from Don this morning but haven’t had a free second to install it. It’s over there by the side door. And speaking of the side door . . .” I told him the story of my stolen Christmas tree. “The very one you helped me carry to my van on Monday. Can you believe it?”

  “Awful. Criminal. You reported it, I assume.”

  “I did.” I slid the cooked patties onto bottom buns on which I’d laid lettuce and tomato. “Do you remember what the variety was? What kind of tree? I didn’t pay any attention to the name.”

  “It was a Fraser fir. You gonna go get another one?”

  “Maybe. If I ever have time. Which probably won’t be until next Monday, but that’s okay. If I get it closer to Christmas, it won’t dry out as much. I thought it’d look pretty in here.”

  “The place looks great already the way you’ve decorated it.” Abe smiled.

  There was something about a dimple in a man’s cheek that made my knees go weak. I cleared my throat. “Here’s where we keep the meat and cheese. Veggie burgers are over here so vegetarians won’t think they’ve been contaminated by meat.” Jim’s suggestion.

  “But you cook them on the same griddle as the meat.”

  “I know, it’s kind of silly. We warm the buns in here.” I pointed to the warming oven, and then to the cooler. “The walk-in is over there if you need to resupply, and Danna knows where everything is, anyway.” I dinged the bell again.

  “The ready bell?” he asked.

  “Sure is.” Danna said as she walked up. “Hey, Abe. Thanks for helping out.”

  “I’ll leave you guys to it, then,” I said. “See you in the morning, Danna. And Abe, I owe you one.”

  “I won’t forget to take you up on it.” He locked his gaze on mine.

  Oh, boy.

  * * *

  I parked my van at the end of a row of a dozen or more cars in front of the Berrys’ house and sat for a moment. The funeral had been sparsely attended, which surprised me. Sue and Glen Berry were both from South Lick themselves and had lived in town their whole lives. I would have thought the church would be packed. The paucity of attendees had to be a testament to Erica’s difficult nature. Jim was there with the family, of course, and a number of people I didn’t know. Octavia stood in the back. I chose not to sit up front with Jim, instead deciding to take a seat toward the rear. After I spied Adele and Samuel, I slid in next to them. The service blessedly didn’t run on too long, and the priest managed to find some positive things to say about Erica.

  I climbed out of the van and made my way into the house, handing my good coat to a teenage girl who said she’d take it upstairs. I was a little worried Paula would accuse me of the murder again. Maybe I could find a way to talk with her alone. I followed the noise of voices, laughter, and glasses clinking to the same kitchen-sitting area where I’d visited with the family on Monday. The island was now spread with platters of finger food like meat pastries, tiny meatballs, deep-fried shrimp, Buffalo wings, something looking like it might be little catfish cakes, and more. Not a fruit or vegetable in sight, but I’d gotten used to that in Indiana. Lots of Hoosiers really liked their meat, at least in this area. A table, next to a side wall, was set up as a full bar, and by the looks of the crowd almost everyone was partaking.

  I spied Paula sitting with her back to me in the corner of the sunroom. I wasn’t going to bother her right now. Adele had said she and Samuel weren’t going to be able to come to the gathering, as they needed to get the sheep in before coming back to town for my dinner. After Jim waved to me from the other side of the dining room, I helped myself to a glass of Chardonnay, slid a few meatballs and shrimp onto a small plate, and headed in his direction.

  Sue turned away from the cluster of women she’d been talking with as I passed. “Aw, Robbie, thanks for coming to Erica’s service, hon.” She laid her hand on my arm. “And we’re so glad you could join us here, too.” Her skin was puffy under watery eyes and the glass she was
holding shook, making little whiskey waves.

  “It was a lovely service, Sue.”

  She started to speak, then clamped trembling lips together. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, then opened them. “My baby’s dead. But we have to move forward, don’t we?” She pasted on a steely smile as she lifted her chin. “Now you go ahead and have a fine time, hear? You got yourself something to eat and drink, good.” She patted my arm and turned back to the women.

  It wasn’t right, for a mother to lose a child. I wove my way over to Jim, my own eyes suddenly filled with tears, grateful he stood alone. I set my drink on an end table, tucked my hand through his arm, and squeezed.

  “You all right?” Jim peered down at me. He took a step back, effectively disengaging my arm.

  I swallowed hard. “Feeling sad for Sue all of a sudden.” And wishing for the comfort of his arm. I swiped my eyes, and took a sip of wine.

  “I know. Doesn’t matter how prickly Erica was, she was still their little girl.” He gazed at Glen, then at Sue.

  We stood there without speaking for a couple of minutes, watching guests and family talking, eating, pouring drinks. Paula sat on the couch with a couple of other women her age, and Max, holding a plate of food, was in an animated conversation in the far corner with Vince and several men I didn’t know. I watched as Max lifted his fork with his left hand and took a bite.

  “What are you making for this birthday dinner tonight?” Jim asked.

  “Not sure yet. It’s going to be easy and fast, though.” I glanced at a wall clock. “It’s only three, but I shouldn’t stay long.” I looked at Jim through narrowed eyes as I thought of what Danna had told me. “But before I go, I want to run something by you. Let’s go find somewhere quieter to talk.”

  He cast me a look I couldn’t interpret, blinking fast a few times. He glanced around at the room, but finally followed me out through the hall to the small living room in the front, which was blessedly empty. I sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to me.