A Burned Out Baker: Classic Diner Mystery #7 (The Classic Diner Mysteries) (15 page)

“Victoria, I taught you long ago that you can’t worry about what other people think of you.”

“That might work in the schoolyard, but in real life, things don’t always work out that way,” I said. “If our reputation is tainted by this, we might lose some of our customers forever.”

“If they feel that way, then I say good riddance.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not responsible for the bottom line anymore,” I reminded him. “If you wanted to, you could move up to your fishing cabin and forget all about The Charming Moose.”

“I think your grandmother might have something to say about that,” Moose said.

“Who knows?” I asked with a grin as we pulled up at the diner. “She might even encourage it.”

“You talk that way now, but you’d miss me if I were gone,” he said lightly.

I suddenly realized how I must have sounded. I cherished my grandfather, and while I knew in my heart that I wouldn’t have him with me forever, the prospect of ever losing him was one that sobered me instantly. “You know that I love you, right?” I asked before we got out.

He looked startled by my confession, but in an equally somber voice, he answered, “I love you, too.”

Hearing it made me suddenly feel better.

“Then let’s not keep Sheriff Croft waiting,” I said with a smile.

“We can’t have that, can we?” Moose asked with a grin of his own. “How’s he ever going to solve this case without us?”

“I don’t know that we’ve helped all that much so far,” I said.

“Hey, we found the original clues in this case, remember? We may not have been able to do much since then, but without that secret drawer discovery, we’d all be flailing around in the dark.”

“That’s true enough,” I answered. “Maybe it’s time for the sheriff to add something to the investigation.”

Moose winked at me. “Why don’t you tell him that once we get inside?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied, wondering what we were about to hear.

“Moose, why don’t you join the sheriff while I get us all coffee and pie,” I told my grandfather as we walked into the diner. Sheriff Croft had already chosen a booth away from the few other diners we had at the moment, and I signaled to Jenny that I’d take care of them myself. Moose and I had burned most of the afternoon dealing with Natalie Dixon and her own particular set of woes, and Ellen had left long ago.

I popped into the kitchen for the pie and gave my husband a quick kiss as he worked the grill.

“Hey there, stranger,” Greg said. “You’ve been busy today, haven’t you?”

“It seems like it, but we haven’t gotten much accomplished,” I said as I collected three slices of Greg’s Dutch apple pie and put them on a tray.

“Well, at least there’s pie,” Greg said. “Who’s the third piece for?”

“The sheriff wants to talk to us,” I said. “He’s already out there with Moose.”

Greg flipped a towel at me and grinned. “Well then, you’d better get out there. You don’t want to miss anything.”

“You’re right,” I said, “as much as I’d love to hang out back here with you.”

“Don’t worry about that. There will be plenty of time for us later,” he said. “Now shoo.”

I did as he said, grabbing a coffee pot on the way.

The two men were already in earnest conversation, and as I filled three cups with coffee, I asked, “Did you two get started without me?”

“Just some of the preliminaries,” Moose said.

“Well, isn’t that a shame,” I said as I slid a piece of pie in front of each man, holding one out for myself.

“Why’s that?” the sheriff asked.

“You’re just going to have to start all over again now that I’m here,” I said with my brightest smile.

“Victoria, it was nothing, really,” Moose said.

“Then it shouldn’t be that hard catching me up,” I replied.

Moose looked at the sheriff and shrugged. “I told you we should have waited.”

Sheriff Croft sighed once, and then he said, “Okay, to recap, here’s where we are so far. After your grandfather brought me up to date on what you two have uncovered, I was just about to tell Moose that we’ve been able to eliminate two of our mutual suspects.”

“Two? How did you manage that?” I asked.

“Well, I’m the first to admit that it doesn’t hurt having official status investigating, plus, our resources are much broader than yours. You shouldn’t be discouraged by what we’ve uncovered.”

I smiled at him. “Discouraged? You misunderstood my reaction. I’m elated that we’re going to be able to strike two names off of our list. Who have you eliminated so far?”

The sheriff lowered his voice, and then he said, “This is just between the three of us, agreed?”

“We promise,” Moose said.

I echoed the sentiment.

“Okay then. Cliff Pearson is off the hook, unless he paid someone else to torch the bakery, which I find highly doubtful.”

Drat. He was one of my favorite suspects. “How can you be sure?” I asked him.

“Evidently, at the exact time that the bakery was being torched, Cliff was being tailed in Charlotte by the police force there. It seems that he has been branching out from our area in an attempt to hit the big leagues, and he’s come to the attention of the Charlotte Police Department.”

“Are they sure it was him?”

“It’s a positive ID,” the sheriff said. “I’m fully confident in it.”

“Like you said, though, he still could have paid someone to do it for him,” Moose said.

“That’s possible, but doubtful. Evidently Cliff prides himself on being a hands-on criminal. He’s even broken a few legs of delinquent clients himself.”

“Who else have you been able to mark off your list?” I asked him.

“Susan Proctor was just getting back from a business trip when Barry was murdered,” he said.

“She could have come back here earlier to do it,” I suggested.

“Not from Seattle. Her plane landed at Charlotte Douglas Airport ten minutes before the fire started, and it’s an hour and a half drive from there to here. We got confirmation that she was on that exact flight.”

“Why didn’t she tell us that earlier and save us all a lot of trouble?” I asked.

“Evidently the meeting was a job interview, and she didn’t want anyone to know that she was looking for something else. That woman was more afraid of losing her current job until she secured a new one than she was in clearing her name of murder.”

I remembered the fire she’d been burning when Moose and I had visited her, and how certain I’d been that she was covering up the smell of smoke on her from something more nefarious.

“You look disappointed now, Victoria,” the sheriff said.

“I kind of had my hopes pinned on one of those two,” I admitted. “Cliff made sense because of his background, and Susan was burning things in a trash can by her house when we went to see her the afternoon of the fire. I was positive she was covering something up.”

“Well, it often works out that way. We don’t usually get our killers wrapped up in nice little packages,” Sheriff Croft said.

“Then that leaves us with three amateurs,” Moose said. “Unfortunately, they each have their own motives for murder.”

“It’s awfully cold blooded, killing Barry and then starting a fire to hide what they’d done,” I said.

“Who knows if that’s why it even happened? The entire thing could have been done out of sheer panic,” the sheriff said. He was about to add something to his comment when his radio went off. After a whispered conversation, he said, “I’ve got to go. Somebody just broke into the mayor’s storage shed, and he’s ready to mobilize the National Guard.”

“Can he do that?” I asked.

“Not a chance, but I’ve got to get over there before he tries.”

After the sheriff was gone, I turned to my grandfather. “He just took away my favorite two suspects.”

“I know. I liked them both myself.”

“So now we have Barry’s brother, his old girlfriend, and a man who wanted to buy his property at any cost. The bad thing is, any one of them could have done it.”

“Then we need to dig a little deeper and find out which one it was,” Moose said.

“I’m not disagreeing with you. I just don’t know how to go about it.”

My grandfather glanced at the clock. “We don’t have a lot of time left this evening anyway. Why don’t we both sleep on it and compare notes again in this morning? We’re not going to be able to solve this case tonight; that’s for sure.”

“I wish I could argue with you, but I’m fresh out of ideas. Go ahead and take Martha home. She deserves a break after the day she’s had, and I’ll take over here.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Moose said as he stood. “Don’t worry. Something will come to us.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said.

After my grandparents were gone, I told Jenny she could take off early.

“Are you sure?” she asked even as she headed for the door.

“Positive,” I said with a laugh, and then she was gone.

After I topped off a few teas and coffees, I ducked into the kitchen for a second. “I sent Jenny and Martha home. It’s just the two of us now.”

Greg grinned at me. “We only have ten minutes left that we’re going to be open. I think we can handle it. Should I make us something to eat?”

“That would be glorious. Let me throw the last few diners out, and we can start now.”

He laughed. “I’m not going to tell you how to run your business, but I can wait ten minutes if you can manage it.”

“I know in my heart that you’re right,” I answered with an exaggerated sigh. “I just don’t have to like it. Ten minutes it is.”

“Don’t worry, it will fly by.”

It didn’t, but I wasn’t about to hold that against my husband. Finally, after what felt like forever, I was about to lock the door behind our last customer when Cass Hightower came rushing up to the door.

“Are you closed yet?” he asked.

“Sorry, you just missed the cutoff,” I said. Cass was a huge gossip, a man notorious for ordering a cup of coffee and a piece of toast and making them last for hours while he regaled anyone who would listen with his latest lies and rumors.

Cass frowned, and then he suggested, “How about if I get it to go?”

I thought about it for a second, and I realized that I really didn’t want Cass adding any stories about us to his mix of tales. “It’s got to be Greg’s choice, but I’ll give it to you half-off if you take whatever he makes for you,” I said.

I suspected that Cass’s tightwad tendency would overrule his sense of taste, and I was right. “You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said.

Reluctantly, I let him in, and then I locked the door behind him. “Sit right here and wait for me,” I said, and Cass did as he was told.

When I came back into the kitchen, Greg said, “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“You’re not finished yet,” I said. I explained the deal I’d made with Cass, and my husband grinned.

“I’ll make him a turkey sandwich. He
hates
turkey.”

“We don’t want to alienate him if we don’t have to,” I gently reminded my husband.

“I was just kidding,” Greg said. “I’ll fix him some chicken soup and make him a quick grilled cheese sandwich. When he orders more than toast, that’s almost always what he gets.”

“You’re a good man,” I said as I kissed my husband’s cheek.

“Maybe I just act that way when you’re around so you’ll think so,” he said as he started on the sandwich.

“Then I’m happy to tell you that it’s working,” I said. I ladled some soup into one of our to-go bowls and put a lid on it. “How long until the grilled cheese is finished?”

“An artist can’t hurry these things,” Greg said.

“How about you, though?” I asked with a smile.

“Give me two minutes. I’ll bring it all out when it’s finished.”

“That’s a deal.”

I went out front to find that Cass was no longer sitting where I’d told him to be. Instead, he had his back to me and was staring out the window.

“Is everything okay, Cass?” I asked him as I approached.

I must have startled him, because he practically jumped out of his skin when I finally got his attention. “You just about gave me a heart attack, Victoria.”

“What’s going on out there?” I asked as I looked over his shoulder.

“I thought I saw someone in the shadows across the street watching me,” Cass said as a shiver ran through him.

“Why would someone be watching you?” I asked. “What have you been up to lately?”

“Not a thing. That’s what’s got me so perplexed. It’s creepy, you know?”

“The darkness can play tricks on your eyes,” I said. “I’m sure that it’s nothing.”

Cass didn’t look all that convinced, but he nodded anyway. “So, what’s Greg making for me?”

“He mentioned a turkey sandwich,” I said.

“I hate those things,” he said. “Please tell me that you’re kidding.”

“I am,” I said. “He’s making you a grilled cheese and chicken soup combo.”

“That’s fine, then,” Cass said.

“Why the loathing of turkey?” I asked as I rang up his halved bill, and he quickly paid.

“When I was a boy, my grandmother kept live turkeys in the yard. She called them Thanksgiving and Christmas, since that’s when she ate them. It was tradition in her family, one that she could trace back to the Civil War. Anyway, one year she had a tom that was extremely aggressive, and he’d come after me anytime I was near. It got to the point where I couldn’t even visit her. Ever since, I can’t stand being around anything even remotely turkey-related.”

“I’d think you’d want to eat them every chance you got to get your revenge,” I said.

“Sadly, it never worked that way,” Cass reassured me.

As I gave him his change, Greg came out carrying a large bag. “Here you go, Cass.”

“Thanks, Greg,” he said, and after he took possession, I let him out and locked the door behind him. I lingered there to see if anyone from the shadows emerged, but if someone had been out there in the first place, they didn’t follow Cass down the road.

“What’s going on?” Greg asked as he looked out as well.

“Nothing. Cass thought he saw someone lurking in the shadows.”

Greg looked a little harder. “I don’t see anyone. Should I call the sheriff?”

“No, I’m sure that it was nothing more than Cass’s overactive imagination,” I replied.

“I don’t know. You can’t take chances like that when you’re investigating a murder.” Greg reached for his phone, and before I could stop him, he’d dialed 911.

“Sheriff, could you send someone past The Charming Moose? We might have someone watching us in the shadows from across the street.”

After my husband hung up, I said, “You didn’t have to do that. It’s probably nothing.”

“It can’t hurt,” Greg said. “After all, if something were to ever happen to you, I’d never be able to find someone else anywhere near as willing to put up with my nonsense.”