Read Down Home and Deadly Online

Authors: Christine Lynxwiler,Jan Reynolds,Sandy Gaskin

Tags: #Mystery

Down Home and Deadly (9 page)

She blew out her breath in disgust. “There’s nothing you can ask me that the police haven’t already asked. They wanted to know about my eating habits, about J.D.’s eating habits, about our relationship.” She raised an eyebrow. “Personal things.” She waved her little cell phone at me. “They even confiscated my phone. And questioned me about it. How long have I had it? Who’s my carrier? Did I have another phone?” She sighed. “And then the big question. Why was J.D. behind the diner?”

My heartbeat picked up slightly. “What did you tell them about that?”

“I told them the truth—I have no idea. We didn’t have a date or anything that night.”

“Was that normal?” I sounded like a detective.

She shrugged. “Well, to tell you the truth, once he took your place here
,
we saw each other constantly. So we didn’t go out quite as much.”

I tried to keep my irritation from showing. Once he took my place. I knew she said that just to needle me. “So had you known him long? Before you started dating
,
I mean?”

“No. Not really.” She leaned toward me. “You know how you’re supposed to meet guys at weddings? Well
,
we met him at a funeral. His grandmother’s funeral. We were instantly attracted to each other.”

“We who?”

“Me and J.D.” She shook her head. “Good grief, Jenna
.
H
ow can you solve a murder if you can’t even keep up with a normal conversation?”

“I meant who was with you at the funeral? Your husband?” Maybe Lisa’s ex saw the instant attraction and understandably resented it.

She snorted. “Hardly. I went with Debbie. J.D.’s grandmother and Debbie’s grandmother were friends. Or something like that.” She waved her hand in the air
,
dismissing them as unimportant. “I’m not really sure why, but Debbie thought she should go and didn’t want to go by herself. So I went.”

“Okay. You met him at his grandmother’s funeral. And it was love at first sight. So you started dating and then hired him to work here. Right?”

“Pretty much. He decided to look for part-time work so he could stay here and get to know me better. Luckily you quit not too long after that.”

I was speechless with outrage, but she didn’t notice.

She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Only now he’s dead
,
and in a way it’s all my fault. If he hadn’t been so crazy about me
,
he’d have left town after the funeral.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Because his grandma didn’t leave him anything. Not a penny. And I think he was expecting to get a big inheritance. He was really disappointed.”

“He wasn’t rich
,
then?” I’d always had Lisa pegged for a girl who went where the money was.

“Well, he definitely didn’t seem rich when we first started going out. He even let me buy my own dinner. If he hadn’t been so good-looking I probably wouldn’t have gone out with him again.” She wiped her eyes once more. “But after a couple of weeks
,
he started paying for everything. He even took me to Tunica. And gave me money to play the slots.
But of course, I didn’t tell John any of that.

“Any idea where he got the money?”

“Now, how would I know that?” She rolled her eyes.

“Well, you
were
dating him.” I may have sounded a little sharp. Probably.

“And that was the only reason I agreed to be fingerprinted. John told me it was to eliminate my prints so that they could find the killer.” She tossed the tissue in the garbage
,
and her tears dried as quickly as they came. “But now he’s using my fingerprints to try and prove I killed J.D. He tricked me so he would have someone to arrest,” she snarled. “I can’t believe I trusted him.”

“Lisa, they needed your fingerprints. And he didn’t trick you. How could he know your prints would be on the gun? You have to admit it makes you look suspicious.”

“It was my gun
,
so of
course
it had my prints. It’s not my fault someone stole it out of my drawer.”

“How long ha
d
it been missing?”

“How should I know? I hardly ever noticed it.” She shrugged. “I didn’t even know it
was
missing.
You
could have taken it for all I know.”

I ignored that dig
, but
I wanted to beat my head against the wall. Or maybe Lisa’s head. Not enough to hurt her, of course, but maybe just enough to gently knock some sense into her. Yeah, right.

I couldn’t believe she was talking to me like
this when all I was doing was trying to help
.
Deep breath. “Maybe you should tell John the truth. That
J.D. didn’t have any money, and then all of a sudden, he did.

“And maybe you should mind your own business.”

“Lisa, what was Larry so upset about earlier?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Since when is my relationship with my husband your business?”

“I
.
 
.
 
.
” It really wasn’t often that I was at a loss for words.

“Look. Thanks for stopping by, but I’ll get Daddy to hire a professional. Someone who can prove that I’m innocent. Not an amateur sleuth that got lucky a couple of times.” She wiggled her fingers. “So
,
see ya.”

“Right. Well I have to go to work now.” I gritted my teeth and counted to ten as I walked out the door
,
taking care not to slam it.

 

*****

*****

Chapter Six

 

Happier’n a dead pig in the sunshine

 

“Jenna, can you call
Susan
and see if she can come in today?” Carly stirred a steaming pot of soup
and nodded toward the list of waitress’s phone numbers on the wall by the phone
.

Alice
called. She and Harvey won’t be in
,
so I had to put
Marco
as host.” She turned toward me. “I hope he can do it. Do you think he can?”

“Sure. Leading people to a table should be easier than taking orders and delivering food.” I reached back to tie the apron around my waist. “Are Harvey and Alice sick?”


Alice
said John asked
Harvey
to come by the station and answer some questions.” She
dipped
some of the soup into a small bowl and blew on it. “
Alice
sounded really upset. She said she was going with him.”
Carly
sipped a spoonful of the liquid and frowned. “Taste this.”

“Wonder what they wanted with
Harvey
?”
I
stared at the soup. That conversation I’d overheard between Harvey and Alice the night of the murder had
not
been about soup. The question was, what
had
it been about?

“I’ve no idea. But I guess you’re going to try and find out.” Carly
added some garlic powder to the pot of soup
. “I don’t think John will tell you.”

I ignored her allusion to my curiosity and called Susan who agreed to come in and do an earlier shift.
When I hung up, I quickly got into my apron and hit the floor running.

“Welcome to
Down Home
Diner,
m
a’am.”
Marco
’s voice floated to the table where I was writing an elderly couple’s order. I glanced up in time to see a flamboyantly dressed woman pat
Marco
’s cheek.

Her voice didn’t float
.
I
t trumpeted across the packed diner.
“Well,
s
weet
t
hing, you can welcome me anytime, anywhere.”

Marco
blanched, grabbed a menu, and fairly raced to an empty table in my section.

“Your waitress will be right with you.” He wiped his brow and headed back to the front of the diner, making strange grimaces in my direction. I assumed he meant, “We’ve got a live one here.” I finished the order I was
taking
and excused myself.

As I walked to the table,
I studied the new arrival.
She was
one of those people who
se
age isn’t readily apparent, but I guessed her to be somewhere in her forties. Her
jet black hair was teased within an inch of its life and piled high on her head. Her eyes were so heavily mascaraed I was surprised she could blink. More noticeable was her dress, or lack thereof. We had the standard
N
o
S
hoes
,
N
o
S
hirt
,
N
o
S
ervice
sign on our door. We might need to revise that.

She had on a skirt and a top, of sorts. The white top was the scantiest of halters
,
and the skirt, black leather, was short enough to qualify as micro-mini. Her white boots were straight out of the sixties. Beside her brilliantly red lips was a beauty mark. A tattooed snake crawled up her right arm and coiled lovingly around her neck. As I approached the table, she gave me a cheerful grin.

“Welcome to
Down Home
Diner. What can I get you to drink?”
I gave her m
y standard opening as I pulled my order pad and pencil from my pocket.

“I’ll have a beer in a bottle. The best you’ve got. I’m celebrating.”

“Sorry,
m
a’am. This is a dry county. We don’t serve alcoholic beverages. But we have really good sweet tea or lemonade.”

“What kinda b
u
rg have I landed in?” she asked loudly. “A gal can’t even get a drink?” She lowered her voice slightly, “C’mon,
s
weet
c
akes, I know you got the good stuff stashed somewheres. Just bring it in a tea glass. I won’t rat you out. It ain’t every day your ship comes in, but mine did
,
and I aim to celebrate.”

“I’m really sorry. We don’t have anything alcoholic on the premises. But our tea is worth celebrating. Tell you what
.
I’ll bring you a glass on the house. If you don’t like it, you won’t be out anything.” Carly gave away pies to police
officers
;
surely she wouldn’t mind if I gave tea to keep the peace.

“Well, the price is right. Go ahead.”

As I returned with her tea, I noticed others in the café were eyeing our unusual customer with interest. She was returning the favor, meeting glances all around the room. I rattled off the specials
,
and she ordered, but as I turned to hand the order in, she wrapped long fingers topped with pointed, blood-red nails around my wrist.

“Hang on a minute,
h
oney.
Let’s talk
.

“Let me turn your order in.” I gingerly disengaged my wrist. “
Then
I’ll take a break. That way I can
talk
without getting jumped by the boss.” I was careful not to say this loud enough for anyone to hear and repeat it to Carly. I really didn’t want to get jumped by my big sis. I handed
the
woman
’s
order through the window to the kitchen and returned to her table. As I sat, she pulled a pack of cigarettes from the small purse she had slung around her shoulder. I must’ve looked as shocked as I felt, since there were
No Smoking
signs on every wall.

“What? No smoking here, either?” She shook her head as she replaced the pack. “Man. What do you people do for entertainment?”

“Well, we eat a lot,” I deadpanned
,
and was rewarded with a loud crack of laughter.

She slapped the table with her open palm. “Girlfriend, you are a riot.”

“What brings you to our little town?”

“Little is the right word. It sure wasn’t to be entertained. Nope. I came on a mission. I am a woman on a pilgrimage, you might say. This little one-horse town is where one of my old mistakes came right. Did that ever happen to you?” She nudged me.

“I don’t know
.
” I was confused
,
and it showed.

“Well, I’ll tell ya,
s
ister, I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life. I ain’t ashamed to say it. But one of my first ones was marrying a weasel. Have you ever done that? You married?”

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