Breezy Spoon Diner Box Set Collection

by Tracey Quinn

  “Trying to drum up business for the dentist, is she?”

  Tammy laughed. “Trying to drum up business from the dentist, if you ask me. They've been working together for a long time now, and you know how things can happen.”

  “So you think she's getting some help eating that pie every weekend?”

  “I'd be happy for them if she was; Nancy's been alone since her husband Gil died three years ago, and Bill Griffin has been widowed for five years now. They're both such nice people, and after all they've been through, they deserve to be happy. But don't tell anybody what I told you; I don't want folks to think I'm the town gossip.”

  “Town gossip? You couldn't crack the top ten in this town!” I said.

  When Linda and Don took over at two, I was out the door of The Breezy Spoon as quickly as I could. Traffic on the road to Pumpkin City was always bad at rush hour, and I wanted to get my dress and get back before I got caught in it. It's embarrassing for admit, but I only own two dresses and neither one is the slightest bit dressy. I wear uniforms most days and when I'm off work I dress for comfort, not for style. It's tee shirts and shorts, or tee shirts and sweats; nothing that would do for a prom.

  I was half way to the highway when I remembered that the dry cleaners in town closes at four, and if I went to Pumpkin City first, it would be closed before I could get back to pick up Brendan's suit. I found a place to turn around, and headed back. The cleaners was only a few blocks from The Breezy Spoon, in a big old building that used to be a private home but was now rented out to businesses. Half was the occupied by cleaners and the other half was the dental office of Dr. Griffin.

  As I pulled into the parking lot, my mind drifted back to what Tammy had said about Nancy Sheldon and Dr. Griffin. Suddenly a thought struck me: The pie! We were trying to find out where the mysterious body had come from, but where had the pie come from that was smashed in his face? It hadn't come from the diner, and if Nancy was Tammy's only other customer for chocolate pie, it must have been hers!

  I sat back and thought for a moment; could Nancy really have killed a man and thrown his body in a dumpster? She seemed like such a sweet little lady, too timid and passive to hurt a fly. And even if she had wanted to kill someone, how would she have hefted the body into a dumpster? It didn't add up.

  Dr. Griffin? He could have helped her, but he didn't seem like a much better candidate for cold-blooded murderer than Nancy. He was a fastidious little man with thick glasses, who had spent most of my check up talking about model trains. I suppose just about anyone could be driven to murder, but they didn't seem like the next Bonnie and Clyde to me.

  As I was leaving the cleaners with Brendan's suit, I saw Nancy Sheldon coming out of the dental office. I had an idea, and I walked quickly across the little gravel parking lot and caught her just as she was opening the door of her car.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Sheldon!” I called. “Nice to see you again.”

  She turned and smiled. “Oh, Miss O'Shea! What a lovely surprise,” she said in a voice slightly above a whisper. “Have you come to make an appointment, because I'm afraid we're closed for the day.”

  “Oh no, I was just at the cleaners picking up a suit for my friend Brendan,” I said. “He's chaperoning at the prom tonight with Tammy Stevens from the bakery.... if she can finish all the chocolate pies she's making!”

  At the mention of chocolate pie, Nancy's eyes grew wide. “Oh, that-that's wonderful,” she stammered.

  “I'd like to get him a good pair of shoes, too,” I continued. “He doesn't have anything very dressy. What do you think would go with a suit like this?”

  “I'm sure I don't know....”

  “I'm thinking he'd like something a little out of the box. What do you think about gator-skin boots?”

  Nancy practically jumped out of her skin. “I-I-I'm sure I don't know!” she gasped. “Please- please excuse me; I forgot my purse!”

  With that, she turned and hurried back to the door of the dental office, clutching her missing purse in her hand. So she did know something about the body in the dumpster. Had she really killed some man and then murdered Rafe Duval to cover it up? What was with all the bubble wrap and chocolate pies in the face? If it was some serial killer ritual, it was a pretty weird one.

  I looked at my watch. It was 2:55. Doing a lot of mental cussing at myself, I started up the Firebird and headed towards the Pumpkin City traffic jam.

  By the time I had gotten off the highway at the Pumpkin City exit, traffic was already getting thick, but I was here now and I'd just have to deal with it. I turned onto the main street, and a few seconds later I heard a sharp honk behind me. I looked in my rear view mirror and saw that a blue sedan a couple of cars back had cut off another car as it turned onto the street behind me, hence the angry honking.

  Suddenly I realized I had missed turning onto the street that led to the mall while I was distracted looking my mirror. Grumbling at myself again for wasting time, I turned down a side street that I hoped would lead to a cross street. Glancing in my mirror, I saw that the blue sedan had turned as well, driving slowly and staying well back. When I reached the cross street, I saw the sedan pull up to the curb about half way down the street and stop. I thought nothing more of it until I reached the next stoplight and saw in my rear view mirror that the blue sedan had turned onto the cross street and was driving slowly toward me, keeping a good half a block back.

  A chill ran down my spine; I was being followed. I couldn't make out the driver of the sedan in the mirror, and I didn't want to turn my head to look and give away that I knew I was being tailed. The turn for the mall was up ahead, but when I reached it I turned right instead of left and drove back toward the highway. Sure enough, the blue sedan appeared in my mirrors a few moments later.

  Had my poking around about the body in the dumpster made somebody nervous? I could practically hear Bob angrily warning me about the dangers of getting involved in a murder case, but I put it out of my mind. What should I do? I could find the police station; whoever was following me wouldn't follow me there, but they'd know I made them and it wouldn't give me any clue as to who they were.

  I decided to go back to the mall. The Pumpkin City Mall was no Mall of America, but even a small shopping mall would have plenty of people around at this time of day, and I'd be safe in the crowd and maybe have a chance to find out who was following me.

  I made my way back through the streets to the mall, but by the time I had reached it the blue sedan was nowhere in sight. As I got out of the Firebird I scanned the parking lot of any sign of it, but it wasn't there. Had I been mistaken? Maybe somebody had just missed their turn like I had. Possible, but not likely. I kept a good look around me as I went into the mall.

  Chapter 11

  I had taken $200 out of my emergency fund to buy a dress for the prom. If an emergency came up I was hoping it wouldn't be a big one since I only had $307 in the fund before I took out the $200. Of course I wouldn't spend all of it; at least that was my plan until I saw the dress. I mean THE dress. I was walking through the mall when I came across it in a little dress shop. It was purple with silver “accents” as the saleslady called them, which meant little squiggly, silver lines here and there on the material. I have black hair and a light complexion so I look pretty good in purple. I tried the dress on. It was made of chiffon, so it was soft and kind of clingy. When I looked in the mirror I knew I had to have it.

  The price tag said $159.95 which most people would think was cheap for a special dress, but I had never paid more than a hundred for a dress in my life. East Spoon Creek City doesn't have a lot of occasions that call for expensive dresses, and if it did I wouldn't go to them anyhow. Still, if I didn't buy any new shoes I could put $40 back in the emergency fund. I mean, I had that pair of sturdy, black, medium heeled pumps that would be okay. And then as I was paying for the dress, the saleslady said, “Rhonda's Shoes For Less is having a sale and you might find some silver sandals that would go with your dress.�
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  The poor woman had wasted her time telling me that, because I had already spent more than I intended to and I was certainly not going to spend a dime more. As I left Rhonda's with the silver, high-heeled strappy sandals and dangly silver earrings, I was consoling myself with the fact that I still had $5 to put back in the fund. Passing by the flower shop, I realized that I needed to buy a boutonniere for Mark because he was probably going to buy me a corsage. Luckily I was able to get one for only $4.95. Stupid prom.

  I was heading for the door when I heard the loud crunching of metal from outside, followed by angry shouting. By the time I reached the door, a crowd was gathering and I had to push my way through to see what had happened.

  There in the parking lot was the blue sedan with its front bumper lying on the ground in front of it. A big pickup truck that was mostly orange but with a green door was lodged up against the side of the blue sedan. The door of the truck was open, and there was Bildad, wild-eyed and red-faced, storming toward the driver of the sedan.

  “You idiot!!” Bildad bellowed. “Are you blind or just stupid?!!”

  The door of the sedan opened and out got Dr. Griffin! He put his hands up and tried to speak in a calm way, but Bildad was already in his face, hollering at the top of his lungs. People were gathering around the scene of the accident, and some were shouting at Bildad to get away from Dr. Griffin, but he was paying them no mind. I was afraid that he might physically harm the little man, but then I spotted a police cruiser making its way through the parking lot toward the scene.

  I slipped out the door and walked to my car without either Bildad or Dr. Griffin noticing, and was gone by the time the officer was getting out of the cruiser. So it was Dr. Griffin that had been following me; whatever Nancy had done, Griffin had been part of it. Or maybe Dr. Griffin was the one who was responsible for the body and it was Nancy that was the accomplice. Either way, it was clear that my conversation with Nancy had rattled them into hasty action.

  But why was Bildad there? Was he following me, too? He could have been at the mall by coincidence, but it was a pretty big coincidence. He must be nervous, too, or maybe Sammy and Al had sent him to watch me, and possibly do more than just watch me. I didn't like to think about that possibility, but I was long gone now and neither he or Dr. Griffin would be catching me today.

  My cell phone rang as I was pulling onto the highway. It was Mark. “Hey, Dani, my brother Dave called and he wants to talk to you about some interesting stuff he's found for Ham about Justin McElroy.”

  “That's great,” I said, looking at my watch. It was 5:15. “I'm on my way back from Pumpkin City but the highway is a parking lot so I won't get there for maybe an hour. Will he available to talk then?”

  “We can do better than that! He's on line right now, and I'll set us up for a video conference! Hang on....”

  There was silence for a second and then the line went dead. I waited for a minute and then the phone rang again. I answered and the face of a man popped up on my screen. He looked a lot like Mark except his hair was long enough to comb and he was wearing a suit.

  “Hi, you must be Dani,” the man said. “I'm Dave, brother of a certain firefighter who doesn't know how to use Skype.”

  “I know how to use it!” Mark's crackling voice cut in. “Give me a second!”

  “Hi Dave, nice to meet you,” I said.

  “Hey Mark, how did you rate such a good-looking tenant like Dani?” Dave asked. “I'd be willing to drive you to and from work every day if you'd rather rent from the handsome Adams brother, Dani.”

  Finally Mark's face popped up in a window on my screen beside Dave's window. “500 miles each way?” he asked.

  “Not a problem. It's my civic duty to save her from the clutches of her predatory landlord.”

  “That's funny, I seem to recall seeing you doing some 'clutching' in the past.”

  “Ah, but I'm not a landlord. I'm only concerned about the rights of tenants.”

  “You're a great American, big brother. Now what did you find out about Justin McElroy?”

  “Some pretty interesting stuff,” Dave replied. “I'm not sure it'll help your friend find him, but here goes: About ten years ago McElroy and his partner were investigating this guy named Kirk Bronson that worked for the county and had been embezzling money. Bronson was using his computer skills to hack into the payroll system and divert funds to his accounts. He had been at it for a long time, only skimming small amounts of money at a time so nobody would notice, until he had stolen over a million dollars.

  “So McElroy and his partner go to Bronson's house to arrest him, but Bronson shoots McElroy's partner dead and gets away. The police put out an APB and roadblocks, but he slipped through somehow and they never caught him. The guy was a middle-aged white-collar type of guy, and they didn't expect him to try anything like that. In fact, some people started to question McElroy's story of how it all went down, and he was even put on leave and investigated by Internal Affairs.

  “Eventually Internal Affairs concluded the investigation without finding any evidence of wrongdoing by McElroy and he was reinstated, but not everyone was happy to have him back on the job. Bronson had disappeared with a lot of money and the police were never able to find him, and some still suspected McElroy of being in cahoots with him. The whole thing took its toll on McElroy's marriage too, and his wife left him not long after that. He stayed with the department just long enough to get his pension and then he quit and left town.

  “I guess he had an old aunt in some little town called Kettletown down close to where you guys are, and he went out there to get a fresh start. It worked out okay for him from what I can tell, because by the time he disappeared his tax preparation business had four locations open. That's about all I can tell you.”

  “That's a lot,” I said. “Thanks for taking the time to help with this. Hey, did you find out anything about McElroy's aunt?”

  “Good thinking,” Dave said. “Aside from renting a room from my brother, you have good instincts. I checked out the aunt, but she died six or seven years ago. Widow, no kids; McElroy was her closest relative.”

  “Your brother, in addition to being voted the country's most desirable landlord, has also had the foresight to record this conversation, so we can pass it on to Hamilton Hamsky,” Mark said.

  “It's about time you did something useful,” Dave replied. “Don't think it'll stop me for luring your tenant away from you, though.”

  “Keep your hopes up,” said Mark. “There's a first time for everything. And, seriously, thanks for all the help. I'll let you know just as soon as we learn anything.”

  “It's so nice to meet you, Dave,” I said. “I hope we get to meet in person sometime soon.”

  “You can count on it, Dani.”

  After Dave hung up, Mark asked, “Have you eaten yet?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “Can you bring something home from The Breezy Spoon for supper? I'll meet you at home.”

  “Sure, “ he said. “I'll get a pie, too. Now don't break any speed limits; I can't afford to bail you out of jail.”

  “Why would you be the one to bail me out of jail?”

  “You rent is due next week and I have a mortgage payment.”

  “I love you, too, Mark.”

  “Goes without saying,” he responded.

  I was almost back home when I remembered that I still had Brendan's suit in the car. I turned back toward Tammy's bakery, and as I did I began to think over my conversation with Nancy Sheldon and the incident at the mall. I took out my phone and dialed Bob's number.

  When he answered I asked, “Hey, have you been able to identify the body from Cooter's hearse yet?”

  “We're working on it,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

  “You should talk to Nancy Sheldon, Dr. Griffin's assistant. I have a feeling she would know who he is.”

  Bob sighed heavily. “Sis, what did I tell you?”

  “I wasn't investigating anything!” I protest
ed. “I was just chatting with Nancy at the dry cleaners, that's all. Is it a crime to have a friendly conversation with someone now?”

  “In your case, yes! Leave the investigating to us, sis; remember what happened that time when we were in grade school and you wouldn't quit snooping around until you found out who stole my bike?”

  “So I got a black eye, but I got your bike back from Lenny Brooks, didn't I? Besides I was 11 years old, I think I'm better equipped to deal with situations these days. Whatever happened to Lenny Brooks anyway?”

  “He works at the glove factory over in Kettletown. Don't change the subject. Now, I repeat, stay out of this and let us do our job. Why don't you go over to Pumpkin City and buy yourself a dress for the prom?”

  “Well, if that isn't the most chauvinistic thing I've heard in a while! 'Don't worry your pretty little head about the murder, sweetie, just go buy yourself a new dress'!”

  Bob laughed. “No, just trying to keep my favorite sister alive. Don't get mad.”

  “Too late. I think I'll stay mad at you for at least another 20 minutes for being so patronizing. By the way, not only do I already have my dress, I am well aware that I'm your only sister.”

  “I know and I thank God for that. I don't think I could deal with two of you. Anyway, I gotta go. I'll see you at the prom.”

  “At the prom? Don't tell me that Jerry got to you, too.”

  “If he was that persistent as a coach, we'd be undefeated. I asked Kitty to go with me and she said she would.”

  “That's wonderful and all, but aren't you the least bit interested in learning that sweet Nancy Sheldon who hands you the spit cup after the dentist cleans your teeth is a cold-blooded serial killer?!”

  “Serial killer? That's taking it a bit far, sis!”

  “Well, true, but you barely took notice when I pinned the murder of Mr. Gator-skin-boots on her, so I had to get your attention somehow. I think Dr. Griffin is in on it, too.”

  “There's only one problem with that.”