Murder, Served Simply (14 page)

A
s we crossed the street, Ryan, Oliver, and I met my parents, who were just climbing out of their rental car in front of the Double Dime Diner. The bell over the door rang as the four of us went inside the diner. Since I had discovered it a few months back, I had become a regular. Linda, the head and, as far as I could tell, the only waitress in the diner, wiped down the Formica counter.

Her face brightened when she saw me. “Angie, choose any seat that you'd like. I'll be with you in a jiffy.” She clicked her tongue at Oliver. He abandoned me for the promise of bacon. I was onto their secret code. Although Linda never let Oliver into the kitchen, I found rules were much more lenient about dogs in restaurants in Holmes County than they had been in Dallas.

I led my parents and Ryan to a booth by the front window. It was my favorite spot and gave me a clear view of the county courthouse. The statue of Lady Justice jutting out from the side of the building held her scales high in the air. Her head, scales, and shoulders were weighted down by heavy snow, while even more began to fall.

“Angie,” my mother said as she slipped into the booth, “where did Oliver go? I'm surprised you allowed
him to wander off like that. You usually watch him every minute.”

I picked up my menu, even though I knew what I would order. I could use it as interference if need be. “He and Linda—that's the waitress—are buddies. I'm sure he's getting his choice of bacon right now.”

“Do you come here often?” Ryan asked.

I smiled. “Probably more often than I should. The food is great, but you'd be hard-pressed for a salad here.”

My mother wrinkled her nose. To her, salad was a mainstay. To me it was a necessary evil. Perhaps that would explain the difference in our sizes.

It wasn't until everyone was seated that I realized my miscalculation. Why had I chosen a booth? My mother was quick to sit beside my father, which meant I was left next to Ryan. Would it look bad if I pulled up a chair to the end of the table? Probably. I slid into the booth and sat on the very outside corner. I was sitting so far on the edge that a light breeze would have knocked me right off my seat.

“I'm not going to push you out of the booth,” Ryan said barely above a whisper.

I felt my face grow hot. Of course he wouldn't do that. For all his other faults, Ryan was a perfect gentleman.

He smiled at me as I sat properly in the seat.

Mom picked up her menu. “Ryan, what have you
been up to all day? We haven't seen you at all. I hope you aren't too bored up here.”

“Not at all.” Ryan gave Mom his best smile, which would have been charming enough for a pageant judge, unlike mine. “Angie's friend, Jessica Nicolson, showed me around the county. It was nice to see the area from a local's perspective.”

My mother frowned at this, but Dad said, “How nice of Angie's friend to show you around while Angie Bear was working.”

“I've told you about Jessica, haven't I, Mom? She is the one with Out of Time, the antiques shop here in Millersburg.” I pointed out the window. “In fact, that's her shop right across the street. You and Dad should check it out. You would love it. There is a suit of armor named Sir Richard that she's placed right at the entrance to the store. It's in great condition.”

My mother closed her menu. “I don't have any need for more antiques.”

“I've always wanted a suit of armor,” my dad said. “Think of how nice that would look in the foyer of our home, Daphne.”

“I certainly will not.”

“Maybe I will go over and have a peek at it. It would be a bear to ship back to Dallas, but it's worth a look.” Dad winked at me over his menu.

Mom frowned harder, looking as if she had just swallowed an eight-ounce glass of grapefruit juice in one gulp.

Linda trotted over in her circa 1950 waitressing
uniform. “Angie, it's so good to see you. Merry Christmas! I wasn't sure you'd come back in before the holiday.”

“Hey, what about my order?” a man in the next booth asked. “I was here first.”

“Oh hush,” Linda said. “I will get back to you in a minute.”

The man grunted but didn't bother to argue. If you wanted to eat at the Double Dime, you did what Linda said.

“Who do you have with you?” Linda peered eagerly over the table.

“Mom, Dad, this is Linda O'Neal. Linda, these are my parents, Kent and Daphne Braddock.”

My mother gave her a tight smile. “How do you do?”

“Can't complain. I can't tell you how much we like Angie in this county. She's a breath of fresh air. She's smart as a whip too. She's solved two m—”

I kicked Linda, stopping her in the nick of time from uttering the “m” word, “murder.”

“Ouch.” Linda rubbed her shin.

“Sorry—foot slipped.” I smiled sweetly. “And this is our family friend, Ryan.”

Ryan flinched when I introduced him as a family friend.

“Ryan?” Linda asked. “Is this
the
Ryan?”

Ryan's smooth brow wrinkled. “I seem to be getting that a lot in this town.”

Linda straightened up to her full height. “Well, you go and break our Angie's heart, that's what you are going to get. I have half a mind to kick you out on the street this very second.”

“Linda,” I said, “Ryan is here for Christmas, visiting with my family as a friend. There is no reason to chase him out of the diner.”

“Well, I'm going to burn his meal,” she muttered only loud enough for me to hear.

As much as I would enjoy that in the moment, I hoped she was just kidding.

Linda passed menus all around. “I'll give you a minute to look it over, and then I'll come back for your order.”

“How was your sightseeing?” I asked.

“It was nice to see the old haunts,” my father said.

“I wish you would have come with us, Angie. We are only here for a short while,” my mother complained.

“I told you I would be working during part of your stay.” At least I had been for part of the time. “And the trustees just scheduled a meeting that I have to go to later this evening.”

“Angie, you are just like your father. You work too hard. All you talk about is work. It's Christmas.” Tears gathered in my mother's eyes.

“I'm sorry, Mom. But I have a great idea to make up for today. I don't have a Christmas tree at my house.”

“I know,” my mother said. “It's quite depressing.”

“So let's change that. Let's go find a Christmas tree tonight. Together.”

“All of us?” Dad asked, nodding to Ryan.

“Sure,” I squeaked. I hadn't thought to include Ryan, but it wouldn't be fair to exclude him. “I know just the farm to go to. There's an Amish place where we can
purchase the tree. It's called Shetler Tree Farm, and it's in Berlin.”

“We've never had a real Christmas tree before,” Dad said, warming to the idea. “And it would help us feel more in the Christmas spirit.”

I knew I would regret what I said next, but I said it anyway. “We can go right after we eat and pick out the tree, and since I don't have any Christmas decorations, Mom, I will put you in charge of décor for both the house and tree.”

My mother sat up straighter in her seat. “Really? You would let me do that? You never let me touch your apartment back in Dallas, even though I offered on numerous occasions.”

“I do have to work tomorrow, and this will give you something to do while I'm gone. And you're right; the house does need a little TLC.”

Mom clapped her hands. “I will start making a list as soon as we get back to the house.”

Yep. I was going to regret this. If I really hated the decorating choices that my mother made, I could just change them when she was back in Dallas. I couldn't back out now; this was the happiest that I had seen her since she arrived in Ohio.

“What kind of work do you have to do tomorrow?” Ryan asked. “I'm not much for decorating, but maybe I can help at the shop.”

I blinked. “I'm working on new flyers for January quilting classes and quilting pattern designs that can be printed by class members from their computers. It's nice to be able to use my graphic design background.”

“I should say so. Since you threw away your career,” Mom said.

Okay, maybe my suggestion for the tree farm visit hadn't fully made up for my MIA status today.

I ignored my mother's comment. “It shouldn't take me very long, and I will be minding the shop. You would be bored. I don't expect much business.”

“I could keep you company,” Ryan said.

“Mattie will be there most of the day,” I said, hoping that he would take the hint.

Ryan opened his mouth to say something, but fortunately Linda returned with our drinks. As she set them on the table she asked, “Are you ready to order?”

Ryan appeared concerned as he perused the menu. Nothing on it was within his meal allotment of calories.

Dad rubbed his hands together. “I'll have the left side of the menu, please. If that goes well, I will finish off with the right.”

Linda grinned. “You're my kind of diner.”

“Kent, don't tease the woman. Why don't you have the chicken breast, hold the gravy, and instead of potatoes, can he have the vegetable of the day?”

“That would be green beans.”

“Plain green beans?”

“With ham.” Linda knocked the eraser end of her pencil on her order pad. “Why would anyone bother to eat plain green beans?”

I had spent a good portion of my childhood asking the same question.

Mom sighed. “All right. Green beans with ham will have to do. Kent, you can pick the pieces of ham out.”

Dad frowned. “Daphne, I am perfectly capable of ordering my own meal.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

“I'll have the chicken potpie with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy.” Dad handed Linda his menu.

Linda took his menu.

“Kent, that's not part of your diet.”

“You said it yourself. It's Christmas. I deserve to indulge. You will get to redecorate Angie's house, and I will get to eat something that doesn't taste like cardboard. Everyone wins.”

My mother shook her head. “Well, I will have what I previously ordered for my husband.”

Ryan spoke up. “I will have the same that Mrs. Braddock is having.”

I handed Linda my menu. “BLT with fries and extra bacon.”

Dad reached over the table and gave me a high five. The diet-war battle lines were drawn.

“Well,” Mom said, “I see that we have two very different views when it comes to food. I do hope our taste won't be that different as I work on your house, Angie.”

I knew it was a given. “Just leave the kitchen alone. That's all I ask. I love that kitchen.”

Mom wrinkled her nose. “With all those outdated appliances.”

“I appreciate their charm. As for the food, it is Christmas,” I said. “We will all eat better after the holidays.”

“Or at least aspire to,” Dad said with a chuckle.

“Were you at the shop all day?” Ryan asked.

“Actually, most of the day I was at the hotel because
of the quilt show,” I said quickly. I didn't want Ryan or my parents to know about my dabbling into amateur-sleuth territory. All three of them knew about my run-in with the law during the summer. A dead body had been found in the stockroom of my quilt shop, so my involvement in that investigation had been impossible to keep secret. However, I had been able to avoid telling them everything since then, and I planned to keep it that way.

“See the sheriff while you were there?” Ryan asked.

My head snapped up, and I met Ryan's gaze. “Why would you ask that?”

“I assume he would be investigating that poor girl's death.”

“Oh, right.” I examined my water glass.

Linda returned with our food. “Are you talking about Eve Shetler?”

I nodded.

Linda set my BLT in front of me. “I heard about that. It's a real shame. Eve was a sweet girl.”

“You knew her?”

“'Course I did. She and her friend used to meet here at least once a week. They always got the pancakes.”

“Amber Rustle?” I asked.

“Yep, I think that was her name. It was hard to remember whoever Eve was with because she was such a standout. Even in her plain clothes. I knew she would never stay Amish. I've known so many Amish kids in my day. Most of them never stray, but I can always pick out the ones that leave. There's just something different about how the kids hold themselves.”

I removed the toothpick from a quarter of my sandwich. “Did you see Eve since she came back?”

“I did. About a week ago the whole cast came here for dinner. We had to move most of the tables together so they would all have a place to sit, and I even had to turn some regulars away because there wasn't enough room for them to eat. You can imagine how that went over.”

“Did you overhear any of their conversations?” I asked.

“Oh, you know I don't eavesdrop,” Linda said defensively. “But then again, if someone talks too loud and I can't help but hear, that's another thing altogether and not my fault in the least.”

“Of course it's not,” I agreed.

“Can't say they said anything of importance, but Eve was definitely the belle of the ball. Everything seemed to revolve around her, including the men. The other girl actress, maybe a year or two older, did not like it. Every time she heard Eve speak, she would squish up her face like someone put too much salt in her soup.”

“Lena?” I asked. “Was that the other girl's name?”

“If you say so. I never heard her name said.”

“Linda,” another customer called, “I need a warm-up.”

Linda sighed and went to that table.

“Angie,” Mom hissed after Linda moved to the next table, “why are you asking all those questions about that girl?”