2 A Deadly Beef (8 page)

"How
about a rain check?"  I asked.  "I’m really beat
tonight."

"Any
time," Dave said, and then he closed the door on me.  I heard the
dead bolt slide into place, and I had a hunch that the grocer was in for the
night.

I
walked back to Moose’s truck, and a minute later, he opened the
driver’s side door and slid inside.

I was
about to explain why I’d said what I had about him during my conversation
with Dave when Moose held up a hand.  "Victoria, there’s no
need to apologize," he said.  "I knew immediately that it was
a ploy, pure and simple."

That
wasn’t entirely true, but I decided to leave well enough alone.  If
Moose was willing to shrug it off, then so was I.  "Thanks for
understanding."

"Think
nothing of it.  So, Dave’s evening visit to Sally Ketchum’s
farm was for nothing more than cider.  It appears that we’ve hit
another dead end."

"We
should be used to it by now," I said as I stifled a yawn. 
"Any other ideas about what else we can do tonight?"

"Honestly,
I think we’ve done enough for one day.  We’ll think better
after a full night’s sleep, and no one’s going anywhere this
evening.  Besides, I believe that our spouses will be more than happy to
see us at home."

I
wasn’t about to argue; my grandfather was right.  I was beat, and
nothing sounded better than heading home and spending a little quality time
with Greg.

When
he saw me nod in agreement, Moose said, "Victoria, you must be worn out
to give in that easily."

"What
can I say?  When you make sense, there’s no arguing with you."

He
wasn’t sure how to react to that, so my grandfather decided to leave it
in silence as he chauffeured me home. 

Evidently
Greg had been waiting by the door, because the second Moose pulled in, the
porchlight flipped on and my husband came outside to greet us.

"Greg,
you didn’t have to wait for me by the door," I said, "as much
as I appreciate the gesture."

"What
can I say?  I missed you."

"I
don’t know how," I said with a laugh.  "We spend every
day together.  I didn’t think that would ever be possible."

"Call
me quirky, but I happen to love being with my wife."

Moose
nodded as he slapped Greg’s back.  "You’re a man after
my own heart, Greg.  Now, if you two will excuse me, I have a spouse of my
own I miss."

After
he was gone, Greg and I walked inside the house together.  "That
really was sweet of you," I said as I looked at our collection of
guidebooks spread out on the kitchen table.  "Are you working on our
trip?"

"I
had some spare time on my hands, and I keep thinking that if I get all of the
details planned, we’ll actually go someday," he said.

My
husband and I still hadn’t taken a proper honeymoon, even after all of
our years together, but we kept promising ourselves that someday we
would.  So far, we’d been able to narrow our dream trip down to ten
days, all we could realistically take off from the diner at any one time. 
"So, what’s the itinerary at this point?"

"The
way I see it, right now we’ve got four days in London, two in Ireland, and then four in Paris."

"Wow,
three countries in ten days?  That’s a lot of flying, Greg."

"I
suppose we could always give up Ireland if we had to, but do we really want to
do that?" he asked.  "We’ve both dreamed of driving
through the Irish countryside, and the trip from Dublin to Trim Castle will allow us to do just that.  I figure if we don’t sleep until we get
back, we’ll have enough time for most of the things on our list that we
want to do."

"Let’s
see what we might be able to cut," I said as I picked up one of the
guidebooks for Paris.  "You know, I’ve been thinking about it,
and I really want to spend a little time strolling through the city, even if it
means giving up one of the art museums on our list."

We
were still discussing the pros and cons of trimming a few museums from our
schedule when I began to yawn.  "I’m sorry, Greg, but
I’m afraid that this is going to have to wait until another day.  We
have time."

"That’s
a dangerous trap we’ve been falling into," Greg said as we
stood.  Instead of heading to our bedroom, he took my hands in his and
said, "Victoria, I don’t want us to spend our lives planning this
trip without ever taking it.  We need to pick a time to go soon, and see
these things while we’re still able to enjoy them."

Funny,
but I’d been thinking the same thing myself.  Though I hadn’t
been all that close to Wally Bain, the abrupt way he’d lost his life had
struck a chord with me.  What we had today offered no guarantees for
tomorrow, and I didn’t want to get to the end of my life with a long list
of things I only wished that I’d done. 

"What
about your birthday?" I asked.

"What
about it?" Greg asked.

"Let’s
go near the first of May next year.  If we work it right, we can have
breakfast in Paris on your birthday and dinner in London that night.  How
does that sound?  Can we plan this thing for real in six months
time?"

"You
bet we can," he said.  "Victoria, are we really going to do
this?"

"I’m
game if you are.  We might not be able to stay at any fancy places while
we’re there, but we should be able to swing it all on a budget if
we’re careful.  One thing, though.  Don’t be expecting a
gift."

"Being
with you in Europe is the best birthday present I could ever ask for,"
Greg said.

"Then
it’s a date.  We’ll have chocolate croissants by the Seine in Paris for breakfast, and steaks by the Thames for dinner."

"You’ve
got yourself a date," Greg said, and we went to sleep with dreams of a
proper honeymoon dancing in our heads.

Chapter 5

I was
getting ready to open the front door of the diner the next morning promptly at
six when I noticed that there was someone standing in the shadows just beyond
the reach of our light.  I might have been a little jumpy because of the
murder, but just in case, I grabbed our diner security device before I unlocked
the door.  Mom was back in the kitchen getting ready for her early shift,
so I decided not to bother her.  I had to admit that Greg’s aluminum
softball bat felt reassuring in my hand.

"Come
out into the light," I called as I opened the door, keeping the bat at my
side as I peered into the darkness to try to get a glimpse of whoever was
standing in the shadows.

"Victoria, are you going to try to get in a softball game this early in the morning?"
Chester Longfield asked as he stepped toward me out of the shadows and into the
light.  Chester was a longtime customer and an old friend to The Charming
Moose, as well as being one of our breakfast regulars.

"No,
but I thought I might try for a little batting practice," I replied as I
stepped aside to let him in.

"Well,
you know what I say.  It’s never too late," he said.

"Or
too early, as the case may be," I replied.  I stowed the bat back in
its proper place, grabbed a menu, and followed Chester to his usual spot. 
"Do you even need this?" I asked as I held the menu up.

"No,
thanks.  I’ll have my usual."

I
jotted Chester’s order down as he looked around and asked,
"Where’s Ellen?"

"She’s
running a little late this morning," I said.  "Something came
up with one of her kids."  Our early-shift waitress was a single
mom, and some days that meant she had to take care of emergencies that came up
with her kids.  I didn’t mind helping out whenever that
happened.  Ellen was a valuable asset to the diner, and I’d do just
about anything to keep her with us.

"Children
have a way of spontaneously creating emergencies," Chester said with a
grin. 

After
I gave Chester’s order to Mom through the pass-through window, I came
back and filled a coffee mug for him. 

I was
about to clean a few menus while I had some downtime when Chester asked,
"Is everything okay?"

"Of
course it is.  Why do you ask?"

He
looked at me with a raised eyebrow.  "Victoria, we both know that
you weren’t carrying that bat around for practice."

"I’m
really sorry about that.  I guess I’m just a little jumpy
lately."

"Nobody
can blame you for that," he said as he took a sip of coffee. 
"What happened to Wally Bain on his farm has everybody in town a little
on edge."

"It
would be crazy if it hadn’t," I said.  "Did you know
Wally very well?"

Chester shrugged.  "I suppose I knew him well enough to say hello to whenever I
saw him, but not well enough to loan money to, if you know what I mean."

Chester was notoriously tight with his money, so I doubted that list was very big. 
"I didn’t realize there was
anyone
in town you’d crack
your wallet for, Chester," I said with a grin.

He
nodded.  "That’s a fair assumption, because there aren’t
many.  Offhand, I’d say that I’d loan money to you or your
grandfather if either one of you needed it, but that’s probably about
it.  I’ll admit that it’s an awfully short list."

I was
frankly surprised by the confession, and more than a little honored, to be on
his list.  "You forgot your family."

"My
family," he said with a sigh.  "I’m afraid that
they’re an entirely different story.  Of the whole clan, only my
grandson would have a chance to make that cut.  He’s as responsible
as any teenager I’ve ever known."

"You
two are close, aren’t you?" I asked.

"No
more than you and Moose are," Chester acknowledged. 
"I’m not sure what it is about the relationship between a
grandparent and grandchild.  It’s not an automatic bonding, but when
it clicks, there’s nothing in the world like it."

I smiled. 
"It’s an interesting way to think about it," I said. 
"I’m not all that sure that Moose and I click.  We have our
fair share of squabbles from time to time."

"That
just shows you care," Chester said.

"Then
he must care about me a
lot
," I answered with a smile.

"He
does indeed," Chester said.

Mom
rang the bell, and I got Chester’s breakfast for him: two eggs over
medium, two pieces of toast, and a dollop of grits.  It never varied,
which in a way was a real comfort.  There weren’t many things in the
world I could depend on staying the same, but Chester’s breakfast order
was one of them.

Later
that morning, Ellen was at the diner waiting on our customers while I handled
the register.  Our breakfast diners tended to come in waves.  The
folks who worked mainly with their hands seemed to keep earlier hours, and wore
more casual attire into the diner.  They also seemed to laugh a little
freer than the ones who came in later more dressed up for their office
jobs.  I didn’t envy either group their jobs.  The diner was
the perfect fit for me, and when there weren’t any murders to worry
about, it was a pretty good life, all in all. 

I was
still thinking about just how good I had it when Ron Watkins walked in. 
He looked haggard, and I wondered just how hard Sally was working him on her
farm.

"Sit
anywhere you’d like," I said as I tried to hand him a menu, but he
refused to take it.

"Victoria, do you have a second?" he asked.  I studied his face, and if
he’d gotten more than three hours sleep the night before, I would have
been amazed.

"Sure. 
What can I do for you, Ron?  Is something wrong?"

Instead
of answering, he glanced around the café.  There were a handful of
diners spread out, but no one particularly close to us at the time. 
"Could we talk outside?"

"I
would, but I’ve got to stay right here and run the register," I
said.  "We can chat safely enough, though.  I doubt anyone will
be able to hear us if we keep our voices down."  I could have left
the register duties to Ellen, but I wasn’t entirely certain that I wanted
to leave the confines of the diner and go outside with Ron.  There was
something off-putting about his manner this morning that left me unsettled.

Ron
looked uncertain about taking me up on my offer, so I added, "Ron,
nobody’s even paying any attention to us.  Look around and see for
yourself."

He did
as I suggested, and Ron must have seen that I was telling the truth.  All
of our diners were either absorbed in their conversations, or their breakfasts,
to pay us any mind at all.  I could see him start to shrug his agreement
when the diner’s front door opened and Sheriff Croft walked in.

"There
you are, Ron.  I’ve been looking all over the county for you this
morning.  Where have you been hiding yourself?"

"I’ve
been working," Ron said.  It was clear that he was uncomfortable
being questioned by the sheriff, even if it all seemed pretty casual to me.

"Are
you still at Sally’s place?" he asked.  "I thought that
was just temporary."

"It
started off that way, but she’s hired me on full-time," Ron said.

"Good,"
the sheriff said as he patted the farmhand on the back.  "That means
you’ll be around Jasper Fork if I need to talk to you."

"Sure
thing," Ron said, and then he started for the door.

I
called out, "Hang on a second, Ron.  Is there something I can get
for you?"

He
just shook his head as he put his hand on the door.  "I changed my
mind.  I’m not hungry after all."

"Hang
on a second," the sheriff said.  "I’ll walk you
out."

Ron
was clearly not pleased by the prospect, but he couldn’t very well refuse
it, and the two men disappeared together.

"What
was that all about?" Ellen asked as she approached me a few seconds
later.  "I saw you and Ron chatting, but the second the sheriff
showed up, the man took off like he was on fire."