Down Home and Deadly (16 page)

“Of course you do, honey. I’m sure the police will find out.” Alex guided me back toward the living room. “Let’s finish the movie.”

After Alex left
,
I called and told Carly about Lisa’s false alibi. “Where do you think Lisa was?” she wondered aloud.

“I think we need to find out. Don’t you?”

“I’d like to tell you that you need to mind your own business, but I don’t think that’ll happen. And, after all, the murder did happen on my property. Let’s just try and stay safe this time, ok
ay
?”

“Of course.” It’s not like I wanted to be face
-
to
-
face
with a murderer. Again.

*****

*****

If it ain’t your tail, don’t wag it
.

Just like every day since the murder, I parked in the back of the diner parking lot as far away from the
D
umpster as I could. I always had the creepy feeling that if I looked behind the
D
umpster
,
I would see that little sports car. With a dead man in the front seat. I hurried inside
,
trying not to glance in that direction.

But just like every day, the questions ran through my head. Who killed J.D
.
Finley
a
nd why?
Why behind a Dumpster?
I could think of plenty of
answers for the first question
, but I couldn’t imagine why J.D. was parked behind the
D
umpster at the diner.

As soon as I opened the door, t
he delicious scent of apples and cinnamon made my mouth water
.
Alice
was expertly cutting the edges off the top crust of an apple pie. She opened the oven door and put the scallop
-
edged pie in with several others already turning golden brown.

As I headed into the dining room, I snagged an apron off the hook and tied it around my waist. I grabbed an order pad off the shelf, stuck a couple of pens in my pocket
,
then looked around at the many empty tables scattered throughout the diner.
I waved at John, sitting in a booth alone and in uniform.
“We don’t seem quite as full today as we have been.”

“It’s Tuesday.” Debbie offered no other explanation.

“And that means
.
 
.
 
.
” That people aren’t hungry? Everyone runs home for lunch? What?

She left me waiting while she took a piece of fresh apple pie over to John. When she came back
,
she said, “Oh, I figured you knew. A couple of the fast
-
food places have big Tuesday specials. This is usually our slowest day.”

Seeing John gave me an idea. I could get Amelia off my back and use some easy questions about Ricky to get a conversation going with John. Then
I would
segue neatly into how the murder investigation was going. “Hey, I’m going to take a quick break.”

Her brows drew together
,
and I could see she was thinking about the fact that I’d just arrived, but she shrugged. “Whatev.”

I slid into the booth across from the police chief. “We need to talk.”

He froze with a bite halfway to his mouth. “Look, Jenna, if this is about the murder,
legally I can’t tell you anything.
When are you going to
understand that?
”

“This is your lucky day, then. Because my question has nothing to do with the murder.”

He looked skeptical but put the bite in his mouth. “What?” he said as he chewed.

“It’s about Ricky
.
 
.
 
.
”

“Ricky? My officer Ricky?”

I nodded. “Okay, I might as well just explain it. Amelia asked me to ask around about Ricky and see what people know about him.”

John’s face grew alarmingly red
,
and for a minute I was afraid I was going to have to do the Heimlich maneuver.

“Because of Tiffany, you know,” I said hurriedly. “I wouldn’t have agreed, but I owe her a favor.”

He snorted. “The
First Lady
isn’t ever going to think anyone is good enough for her daughter.”

“I know that.” I was a little ashamed that I’d even agreed to ask, but I had. So I needed to find out something. “Maybe you could tell me something that would reassure her.”

“I think Ricky’s a good officer and a stand
-
up guy. He knows what he’s doing and doesn’t mind doing it. We were shorthanded when he applied. Frankly, he was an answer to a prayer.”

I nodded. “Anything else?”

He leaned forward. “Yes.”

“What?” I leaned forward, too.

“I thought this pie was free
. I didn’t know I was going to have to answer a question for every bite.”

I
tossed my hair over my shoulder and gave him a mock glare
. “Fine. Enjoy your pie.” I slid to my feet. John couldn’t even answer my questions
without getting smart
when they had nothing to do with the murder. No way
was
I going to get any pertinent information from him about J.D. Might as well not even ask.

I walked back into the kitchen to cool off. Carly turned from where she was dishing up chicken and dumplings. “What’s wrong?”

“John. He won’t cut me any slack.”

She turned back to the stove. “In other words, he won’t give you any information.”

“Basically. Anyway, I’m officially going to work now. While I was talking to John, I noticed people are starting to come in.”

She grinned. “Slowly but surely we’re overcoming the slow Tuesday curse.”

When I walked back into the dining room, more than half the tables were full. The word about Carly’s cooking was spreading. I quickly got into the rhythm of taking orders and delivering plates heaped with today’s specials.

I mentally congratulated myself on doing such a good job. So far I hadn’t dropped anything or switched any orders. Although I did fumble a plate when I glanced over toward
Marco
’s section where
Harvey
had seated Bob and Wilma. I wasn’t sure what the etiquette was when seeing your ex-boss after you’d just found out he’d had an unusual past. Knowing he’d been a hippie in another life, I could easily envision him with a long braid and headband,
à
la Willie Nelson. I resisted the urge to flash him and Wilma a peace sign.

Just as I made up my mind to go over and say hello, Bob jumped up and shook his finger in
Marco
’s face. I couldn’t hear the words, but even from a distance it was obvious this wasn’t a friendly conversation.

I hurried over just as
Marco
backed up a couple of steps, his dark eyes wide in his ashen face. “I did
not
kill him. Why would you say that?” By now people at other tables were craning their necks to see what was going on. I stepped between them.

“Hi
,
Bob.” I nodded toward Wilma. “And Wilma.” She gave me a weak smile and waggled her fingers toward me. “Something wrong?” I turned toward
Marco
. “Why don’t you go on and put their order in?” I pointed toward his order pad. “Maybe you can discuss this after they finish eating and there aren’t quite so many people here.”

Bob looked around the crowded room, his face reddening. He sat down quickly.
Marco
headed toward the kitchen.

“Is Lisa doing any better?”

“At least she isn’t in jail.” Wilma answered for Bob who had his head down. “But now the police just won’t leave her alone.” She looked over toward the table where Seth and Ricky were enjoying their free pie after their lunch. “They act like they think
she
killed J.D.”

“But she didn’t!” Bob jerked his head up and slapped his hand on the table. “
Marco
was the one who had a big fight with him. If he lets my little girl take the rap for something he did, I’ll
.
 
.
 
.
I’ll
.
 
.
 
.
”

“Bob. Stop.” Wilma put her hand over his. “Jenna knows Lisa didn’t kill him. And if
Marco
did, well, John or those other policemen will find out.”

“So why would you think
Marco
did it?” I couldn’t imagine the soft-spoken foreign student killing anyone. Or even getting angry with anyone.

“You know they worked together at the club. J.D. caught him stealing from the cash register
,
and Lisa fired him.”

“Lisa fired
Marco
for stealing?” Why wouldn’t Gail have told me that?

“Yes.” Bob worried the napkin wrapped around his silverware. “So maybe
Marco
hated him.” He glanced up at me. “And maybe he hates Lisa
,
too.” He sounded shocked at the thought that anyone could hate his darling daughter.

“Now, Bob.” Wilma patted Bob’s hand. “Everyone loves Lisa.” I guess Mama was right when she said there’s no love like a mother’s love.

He flashed his wife a look that said a father’s love was just as strong, but maybe not quite so blind. “Anyway, just because it was her gun, they think she did it.” He shook his head. “She told the police someone stole her gun a few days before the murder
,
but they act like they don’t believe her.” He took out each piece of his silverware and laid it on the table as if his hands couldn’t keep still.

“Well, she doesn’t know exactly when it was stolen, does she?” I asked.

He frowned. “She kept it at work in the desk drawer. It’s not like she pulled it out all the time.” His eyes brightened. “Maybe
Marco
stole it when he took the money.”

“Do you know anyone who didn’t like J.D? Anyone besides
Marco
who had had an argument with him?” I just couldn’t believe
Marco
would kill anyone, but if I had learned anything
,
it was that you
can’t
tell a murderer by the way he look
s
. Or act
s
.

“Well.” Bob and Wilma exchanged a look. “
Harvey
.
 
.
 
.
” He froze.

“
Harvey
?
Harvey
what?”

Wilma cleared her throat and looked over my shoulder.

I glanced back.
Harvey
was walking up behind me. “Hey,
Harvey
, what’s up?” I slid my pad and pen into my pocket and turned to face him.

“Jenna, aren’t you supposed to be working? This isn’t even one of your tables. People are starting to complain.” His glare included me and Bob. “We’ve always prided ourselves on good service. I’d hate to think that now that we’ve sold
,
that’s all a thing of the past.”

“Oh my goodness.” I’d let my curiosity get me in trouble. Again. And after I had just been bragging to myself about how good I was doing. “Excuse me, y’all. I’ll go get your food and then get back to my tables.”

As I walked away,
Harvey
muttered, “Hippie troublemaker.” I glanced back at him, but he was stomping away. I remembered what I’d told Elliott on our trip to
Jonesboro
. It really was odd that suddenly everyone was talking about Bob’s flower
-
child past.

I found
Marco
,
who looked relieved when I suggested that he trade Bob and Wilma’s table for one of mine.

Later
,
when I laid the ticket on Bob’s table and turned to go, Bob touched my arm. “Jenna, I know you’re helping your sister out here, but do you think there is any way you could work some at the club?” His humble tone touched my heart. “Lisa’s so upset that she can’t really do much work.”

What was her excuse before? I bit my tongue to keep the words from coming out. Mama always told me you shouldn’t kick a man when he’s down. And Bob was so down, he was practically subterranean.

“To be honest,” Wilma said softly
,
“Lisa’s so sad and upset that she’s taken to her bed.”