Deep-Fried Homicide (The Laurel Falls Mysteries Book 1)

DEEP-FRIED HOMICIDE

Book 1 of The Laurel Falls Mystery series

By Patricia Lee Macomber

A Gordian Knot Production

Gordian Knot is an imprint of Crossroad Press

Digital Edition published by Crossroad Press

Digital Edition Copyright 2015 Patricia Lee Macomber

Cover Design by Susan Coils:
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LICENSE NOTES

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Meet the Author

About the Author

P
atricia Lee Macomber is the former editor-in-chief of
ChiZine
. She has been published in “Cemetery Dance” magazine and such anthologies as “Shadows Over Baker Street,” “Little Red Riding Hood In the Big Bad City,” and “Dark Arts.” Currently, she lives in North Carolina with her husband, David, and their children.

Book List

The Jason Callahan Mysteries

Murder, Sometimes

Dead, Sometimes

Novels and Short Stories

Stargate Altlantis - SGA-15 - BRIMSTONE - with David Niall Wilson

Intermusings - with David Niall Wilson

An Unkindness of Ravens with David Niall Wilson

Zombie - A Love Story

Love Lost

CHECK THE BACK OF THIS BOOK FOR PREVIEWS OF
MURDER, SOMETIMES
,
LOVE LOST
&
ZOMBIE–A LOVE STORY

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DEEP-FRIED HOMICIDE

Chapter 1

T
he bell on the diner door tinkled gently. A small blonde woman blew in on a gust of hot air and went directly to the back booth. She walked fast, her medium-length hair whipping from side to side in time with her hips. Rachel briefly registered her presence, watched Macy grab a menu and head in the girl’s general direction. There was nothing remarkable about that girl with the trashed jeans and the Candie’s shoes, so Rachel went back to filling the salt shakers without ceremony. She had no idea how that one girl was going to change all their lives.

Macy proffered her best smile and slid the open menu in front of the girl. “Hi, I’m Macy and I’ll be your server today. Can I get you a beverage while you look at the menu?”

The girl looked up, her face changing not a bit. She offered no clue as to her state of mind, her state of economy, her intelligence. She was the very model of ambiguity. “Thanks. I think I’ll just have a piece of apple pie and a coke. Please.” Her tone was just as non-committal.

“I’ll be right back with that,” Macy said, offering up another little smile and taking the menu. She spun on her heel and hurried away. The girl was so full of nothing that Macy felt uncomfortable in her presence.

The only other customer in the diner at that hour rose from their seat and strode methodically to the cash register. Rachel saw him coming and stepped from behind the counter to meet him at the little stand which held the register.

Macy dodged her on her way to the back counter. From the chilled carousel, she took one piece of apple pie, setting it on the counter for the briefest of moments as she pulled out a glass and drew a soda from the fountain. Hands full, she returned to the table to place the girl’s order gently in front of her. Again, she tried on a smile. Again she was rebuffed. The girl wouldn’t even look at her.

“If I can get you anything else, just give me a wave.”

“Thanks,” the girl deadpanned and picked up her fork.

Macy stepped away, fighting her inner urge to pry into the girl’s problems. The breakfast rush was over, the lunch rush was an hour away, so Macy decided to take a break. She slid onto the stool nearest the door and reached over the counter to grab the coffee she had placed there some fifteen minutes ago, before the girl had come in, before her bathroom break. She sipped the cold brew and frowned.

“Ah, quiet,” Rachel sighed, returning to her shaker duty. “In between rushes, the restaurant business ain’t half bad.” She chuckled a bit and winked at Macy.

Macy snorted and tried the coffee once more. Still cold.

Rick stepped out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron and smiling for all he was worth. His sleeves were rolled up and his brow was dotted with sweat, brought on by the heat of the day and the relentless steam of the grill. He stopped behind Rachel, kissed the back of her head. Macy watched as Rachel leaned back into him for a second, a smile crawling onto her face and her eyes sparkling. Then Rick grabbed a glass and drew a drink from the fountain. That first sip drew a relieved moan and a sigh from his full lips.

“I think I’m melting back there,” he grumbled as he made his way out from behind the counter. He took up residence on a stool two spaces down from Macy’s, leaning his elbows on the counter and brushing back his sandy hair. “I’m gonna call Stan and see if I can get a third a/c duct installed back there.”

Rachel nodded. “Do it.”

Rick drained his glass, spun in the chair, let his body rest against the counter. Rachel looked at him funny and he stared into her pretty face for a moment, puzzled. He gave her that patented head-shake of confusion.

“You’re sweaty. People eat there.” She slapped at him with a dish rag and frowned.

Rick sat forward at once, a smirk tilting his face off to one side. “Sorry,” he said, ever the petulant child. Just the same, he was tired and so he slumped a bit, holding the glass against his forehead for a second as he stared out the glass front of the diner.

“Want another soda, baby?” Rachel asked him in her best mommy-voice.

“Thanks,” he said absently, passing the glass back to her without a glance. He maintained his unblinking vigil out the front windows, listening to the sound of the soda filling his glass. Life was good.

Before Rachel could return his full soda glass to him, Rick saw three men bolt past the window. They were dressed in dark clothes, their heads covered with ski masks, and in one of their hands was a large white bag.

“Aw crap!” Rick yelled, rocketing off the stool and hitting the door with both hands as he raced onto the sidewalk.

And just like that he was gone. Rachel and Macy hurried to the door to look after him. They pulled the door open just in time to see the three men disappear around the next block, Rick pounding the sidewalk and dodging pedestrians as he chased them down. Standing half-in, half-out of the door, their jaws dropping, they watched and waited.

“What was that?” Macy mumbled.

“Bank robbery? I dunno.” Rachel realized that her expensive air conditioning was leaking out the door and so she closed it. “Once a cop, always a cop.”

“Do you think he’ll catch them?” Macy asked, checking her face.

“I sure hope not.”

The women returned to the comforting coolness of the diner, Rachel to the ketchup and Macy to her customer.

“Can I get you something else?” she asked sweetly.

“No, thanks.” The girl still did not look up. Her pie was missing two bites at the most and the soda glass was still three quarters full.

Macy smiled, nodded, walked away. She had almost gained her seat when Rick slipped in through the door. His face was red and he was gasping for air. Once he cleared the door, he paused, bending low and placing his hands on his knees. His body heaved with the effort of drawing breath.

Rachel approached from behind, glancing quickly at his backside, then placing one hand on his back. “You okay, big guy?” she asked, giving his back a reassuring little pat.

“I gotta get to the gym more often,” he laughed, standing up slowly. “I’m getting too old for this crap.”

“What was all that?” Macy wanted to know.

“They were carrying a bank bag. There’s a ton of cop cars down at the bank. My guess is…they robbed the bank.” His tone was caustic but there was humor in his blue eyes.

“Fast, huh?” Rachel taunted.

He glared at her from the corner of his eye. “Really.”

“Better luck next time, babe.” Rachel slapped him on the butt and scooted away before he could retaliate.

The bell on the door rang again, drawing their attention. A tall, lean man with a swagger joined the group with his hand held high in the air. “Clean bill of health. Hoo Rah!”

Rick hive-fived him and smiled. “Good deal, Logan.”

Logan appraised Rick’s face, his state of dishevelment. “You okay, pal?”

“Yea. I guess. Yea, I’m fine.”

“My brave husband just chased down three bank robbers,” Rachel announced proudly, her eyes gleaming.