Lester Riley poked his head around the corner, looking fresh from the pasture. “You’re not going to inspect my boots?”
I heard a tinkling giggle that wasn’t Lester’s or Elizabeth’s. “Mary, you do the inspecting for me.”
Lester’s wife poked her head around the corner, saw me sitting with Elizabeth, and probably Elizabeth’s wet eyes, and marched a stocking-footed Lester to a table. “We’ll take care of things,” Mary assured. “I made Lester take his boots off outside. I don’t know what orneriness gets into him, he does it for me at home all the time.”
“LaTisha, I know you can’t stay and listen to me—”
I cut her off. “Honey, I went into the restaurant business so I could do two things. One, cook good food and, two, stay in touch with the community.” And, Lord, thank you for reminding me of the latter one. “William is out tonight and Hardy’s at home recovering from dental work, so it’s just me, but everything works out for the best only when you put people first. In Jesus’s name. Amen.”
Elizabeth’s lips curved into a smile. “Thank you for caring so much. I don’t know what I would have done without you and Lela and Hardy. Sara loved you all so much.” Her eyes filled with tears again.
“You be careful or you’re going to have me spilling salt all over this table.” I wiped away my tears. “Sara’s singing with the angels right now, honey. Now tell me about George. How is he doing paying off those bills?”
I watched color creep into her cheeks, and deep down inside, dread stirred.
“No need to be embarrassed. I thought they’d have to take me to emergency after we got the bill for flying Lela over to Children’s after her bicycle accident.” Then I made a real quick decision. “If it’s a job you need, I’m hiring.”
“LaTisha, really? I was going to head into Denver tomorrow and see if there was anything I could do. George told me—” She clamped down hard on what she was going to say. I expected there was something brewing there, but didn’t push. It would come out soon enough.
“I can do better than that. I’m going to do us a fund-raiser for you and George to help with medical bills. I’ve already got a few things sorted out in my head, like selling my pepper relish, but I’m thinking on bringing William on board. Maybe he’ll sell some of his wonderful bread.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth sagged open. She sat like that for a full twenty seconds before: “I don’t know what to say.”
I heaved to my feet. “Then don’t say a thing. It’s a done deal.”
Chapter Twelve
Elizabeth finished her meal and insisted on starting on the spot. Fine with me, I had about six people waiting to be seated by the time she was finished eating, and another seven or eight seated. She took command of the kitchen like she was born to it.
Me, I was thrilled to be out and taking orders. Talk was high and fast about Aidan and the possibilities of who shot him. If I didn’t miss my guess, Lester brought Mary for dinner at the Goose just because he thought I’d have the scoop. I did, of course, but I wasn’t telling him that. Best to play dumb in a times like this, people do more speculating, which can be dangerous, but it also opens up possibilities that might not be there if people thought you had more information than they did.
My questioning started with Regina. She donned an apron and helped me take orders, so we carried on one long conversation, in chunks, as we passed each other. I gave her the rundown of what I knew about Aidan, not that she needed an update, being married to the chief.
I’d returned to pick up an order and check on Elizabeth. “You handling it, girlfriend?”
Elizabeth slid another completed order through the pass-thru and grinned. “This is fun.”
I picked up the plates and arranged them on my tray as Regina sidled up next to me.
“Thought of something else I heard this afternoon. Betsy was spouting off to Flossie about Eugene’s run as mayor being a cinch. But Flossie left two minutes later. Betsy didn’t seem to like that her audience left so quick. She got kind of sulky after that.”
“Did you squeeze her for more?” I lifted the tray high.
Regina shook her head as she finished filling her third glass of tea. She arranged them on her tray. “My feet are killing me.” She kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes.
I headed out with my order. When Regina passed me on my way back, she gave me a huge wink. Must be the girl had something good.
When Regina returned for her order, she leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Betsy’s got an appointment in my shop tomorrow at one. Highlights, this time. I think you’re due for a fix-up on your hair. Think you can slip away?”
This girl’s mind steams along the same channels as mine. “Sure thing.”
I ladled a bowl of soup and got drinks for table four. Regina leaned over for another update. “Something’s up with Carl. He’s talking Flossie’s ear off about Dr. Cryer and some necklace. Know anything about a necklace?”
Did I! But the necklace wasn’t a priority right now. Still, you never can tell about this stuff.
Regina lifted her tray. I reached out to take it. “You handle getting this to table four and I’ll see what I can hear from Carl.”
Regina quirked a smile. “I can see why Chad so admires you.”
Carl’s back was to me, but I can tell you flat-out that Flossie’s body language screamed bored—or maybe that was exhaustion. Her ex didn’t seem to notice, because he kept right on talking. Now one thing I know is that the minute people see the waiter coming their way, they clam up. I, of course, wanted to hear what Carl was flapping his lips about. I stopped at the table next to Carl and Flossie, asking Michael Nooseman, Maple Gap’s crusty newspaperman, if he was jealous.
“Got a dead body out there in the alley to report on and you think I’m jealous?” He slurped on his coffee, eyebrows lowered menacingly, but I saw that spark in his eyes. “You’ve a lot of nerve, LaTisha. Why would I be jealous?”
Didn’t take much to stir Michael’s pot, and I loved being the wooden spoon. “Because my bachelor’s degree means I’ll understand more than you will. Makes you wish I worked for you, hm?”
While Michael responded with some trivial drivel, I cocked my ear to pick up Carl’s soliloquy with Flossie. “. . . How am I supposed to know? I might just go to Chief Conrad and mention his name.”
“What conversation do you have your ear aimed at?”
It took a minute for me to register what Michael had said, but when I did, I did a quick draw. “Any conversation other than this one. Talking with you is like watching a dog turn circles before it squats.”
“And talking with you is like watching the gyrations of a roomful of eighty-year-old belly dancers.”
Ha! This was fun. Michael and I lived for verbal spats. It kept our minds sharp, not to mention our tongues.
My arm ached though, under the weight of the tray I held up. I needed to get over to Carl’s table before I dumped this food down on the head of a hapless patron. Hm. Michael’s head would be a good target. I leaned in as close as I could. “You ain’t seen nothing until you’ve seen a roomful of fat eighty-year-old belly dancers.”
That gave Michael a good hee-haw. While he laughed himself into high blood pressure, I moved on to the next table. Slowly.
Carl’s tongue was wagging like a puppy’s tail. Odd for a man usually given to the quiet side. “. . . Not going to hang it on me, or I’ll make good and sure he has some dental work of his own that needs done.”
“It’s a right nice evening for you two to be dining here.”
Flossie snapped out of her fog and actually beamed a small ray of sunshine. “Hello, LaTisha. You heard the news?”
“I’m sure everyone has by now. Nothing stays quiet long in Maple Gap.”
I set their plates in front of them and tucked the tray under my arm.
Carl had his fork to his mouth in seconds. “You’re the best cook in the county.”
No use being shy. “That’s
what folks tell me.”
Flossie dragged her spoon through her mashed potatoes, then back through again. Maybe she wasn’t tuned out to Carl but just fine-tuned in to herself. Some people are like that. Since their divorce, Flossie had been kicking up her heels a bit. Rumor was she had a boyfriend in Denver. I wondered if Carl knew that. I couldn’t grip the idea of two newly divorced people being out together at all.
“You’ve got some new help,” Carl’s eyes flitted toward the kitchen.
Very observant. And the crack in the door I needed just so I could stick my size eleven in. “Hardy is recovering after Dr. Cryer worked him over this afternoon.” I figured mentioning Dr. Cryer might bring the conversation to a simmer.
Carl looked disgusted. “He mention that necklace?”
“Necklace?”
“The one his mom loved so much. He accused me of stealing it and making a fake.”
Bingo!
Flossie kept her eyes on her food. She still hadn’t eaten one spoonful of those potatoes.
“A fake?” I prompted him. Though it sure didn’t seem he needed encouragement to vent.
“Says I must have slipped it off his mother, had Aidan make a copy, then sold it for money to go to Taser’s campaign. You know how much he hates the idea of Eugene getting reelected.”
Aidan? Guess being a jewelry-store owner would give him all the things he needed to do such a thing. If Dr. Cryer thought Aidan had a hand in his mother’s necklace being a fake, would he . . . ? Nah. I’d have to see if Dr. Cryer left at any point after Hardy’s appointment. It wouldn’t take long to shoot someone, though Dr. Cryer didn’t seem that upset about the necklace. Who knew? It was his mother’s property. His dead mother’s, and grief cut deep.
About that time, Regina passed, full speed, eyes flashing a warning.
I wrapped up my conversation with Carl the best way I knew how, putting down a stack of extra napkins as I talked. “Not a lot of people with any sense who want to see him reelected.”
Seeing that Carl is pro-Eugene Taser, I was sure that punch wasn’t going to get me any big tips, but that was all right with me.
I hustled myself up to Regina. “What information did you hook?”
Regina’s expression was set in stone, her back to the dining room. I realized she was following Elizabeth Buchanan’s dash around the kitchen as she filled orders. “Lionel’s over there with Shiny Portly saying he’s sure he saw George Buchanan driving in from Denver with Betsy Taser in the passenger seat.”
Chapter Thirteen
I don’t have to tell you how that news made my heart ache. Coupled with what Elizabeth had said about George earlier, and knowing Betsy like we all did . . . But something tickled at my brain. I turned to Regina. “You get wind of something in the shop about that?”
“I just know George has been scarce lately, and Elizabeth looks exhausted and sad all the time.”
“We best not get to thinking too hard. It could be nothing.”
Regina dragged her eyes to mine. “You’re right.”
“I’ll do some digging tomorrow at one.”
Regina smirked.
“Now, anything on Aidan?”
“The usual comments about him being strange-looking, having mean eyes, and all that. I get the impression no one knew him real well. There’s some murmuring about the influx of new people, or should I say new men? A lot of people are wondering about the whereabouts of their so-called wives. Give it a couple more days and gossip will heat to critical.”
Three new men. Aidan had been here the longest, though he never professed to having a wife, and I asked when I took over my welcome-to-town lasagna. He’d turned it down, saying he was a vegetarian. But a month ago, two new men had arrived in Maple Gap, Eddie and Roger. Betsy had courted them for a while, thinking she might make a house sale, but they ended up moving in with Aidan in the large apartment over his shop.
No problems there. There were three bedrooms, even if one was the size of a closet. They were all rather tight-lipped, though they’d at least accepted my welcome-to-town spinach salad with sweet mustard dressing, letting it slip that they were married. We only ever saw Aidan around town, and him on rare occasion.
I loaded my tray and turned, not missing the way Regina’s sad eyes stared into the kitchen. When the bell over the door tinkled its greeting, I was relieved to see the chief coming in, Mac on his heels, Officer Nelson trailing. Chief’s eyes roved the room, then settled on me. “You’ll have some of the tech team dropping in for a bite. I recommended the best. Got enough help?”
“If not, I’ll volunteer people.”
There was a lull in conversation and I could imagine the curious stares of all the diners, wondering what the chief, state police, and crime scene techs had discovered.
Michael Nooseman was the first in line. Chief saw him coming and held up a hand. “I’ll comment later, Michael. Not now.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, looking weary. Regina came up beside him and bussed him on the cheek. “What are you doing here, babe?”
I didn’t catch her answer, but the smile he gave her screamed its own message.
“Waitress! I need another drink.”
That cocky call was straight from the lips of Lionel Don Bailmout, mechanic extraordinaire and man-about-to-be-sermonized.
I rolled over to his table. “Didn’t your momma ever teach you that patience was a virtue?”
Lionel grinned huge. “She did, but it didn’t take too well.”
“Well then, let me bless you with an abundance.” With that, I turned my attention to Shiny. “You having any specials on peaches? I need me some for peach cobbler.”
Lionel’s favorite.
Shiny must have known too because he shot Lionel a snarky little grin. He knew my methods. “I do. I’ll box them up and have them waiting for you tomorrow. Wholesale price.”
Lionel was practically drooling.
“Good. I’ll serve it in the evening. Except to you, Lionel Don.”
Lionel was a widower. A widower desperate for good cooking. Most single men are. Well, except for William. “I’m sorry for razzing you, LaTisha.”
“Then I’m guessing you’d better get over here real fast-like tomorrow evening. Before it’s all gone. I’ll make good and sure you’re at the back of that line, too, so you can take to practicing your patience.”
Lionel pouted and held up his empty glass, looking meek as a lamb. “Can I have more milk?”
I gave him my sweetest smile. “You sure can.” Real bad I wanted to mention the fund-raiser for the Buchanan’s to see if I could get more information about the Betsy and George sighting. But it was too soon to say anything publicly, since I hadn’t lined up anyone at this shindig other than myself.
That’s when Betsy walked in, the mayor on her heels. Maybe I wouldn’t need my appointment at Regina’s after all. Neither of the Tasers looked chipper, though anyone in their right mind would be sobered by the news of another murder in Maple Gap.
I scrolled my eyes over at Chief, who was just getting settled at a table with Mac and Nelson, his back to the room. I spied out a table farther from the others and decided to lead my little lambs over there. I snapped up two lunch menus in case a patron wanted a sandwich or soup rather than the special I served for the evening meal. “Right over here.”
Betsy started dishing it out with her mouth. “This job really suits you, LaTisha. You’re a good servant.”
Um-hm. “Better than serving myself.” The Holy Spirit knocked on my heart right about then, and I did my very best to rein in the words of my tongue. “Anything you need, honey, you have only to ask.” I turned my attention to Eugene as he slid his chair into the table. “Lester told us he’s giving a speech Thursday morning. I’m sure the townspeople will appreciate his straight talk.”
Betsy answered for her husband. “Lester hasn’t a hope of winning. Eugene is too well known, has too much money, and runs a tight ship. The people of Maple Gap appreciate that about him
.”
There was one thing she was forgetting. I felt it my duty to remind her. “You done with your community service hours for blackmailing Regina?”
Eugene looked up, raised his eyebrows at his wife, then stuck his face back behind the menu. Smart man to keep his silence. He knew I didn’t take to his politics and that I had no qualms sharing my mind on the matter, which probably accounted for his silence.
Betsy glared at me. For her part in taking over the blackmailing scheme Marion Peters had started before she’d died, the judge had assigned Betsy to community service hours.
“I finished months ago, not that it’s any of your business.”
“Sure it is. The mayor’s wife is an important person. Mary is a quiet woman who keeps to herself and works hard beside her husband.”
“Some of us want more for our lives than working with cows all day. You should understand that, LaTisha. You raised your children and got your degree. It’s a shame you’re wasting it on this place.”
“I’m giving back to a community I believe in.” I tried for shock value. “I’m sure the murder of Aidan Abbett will help hone my skills.”
Her eyes rounded. “Murder?”
“Aidan Abbett. Out back in the alley. Shot.”
Betsy went rigid, then her gaze traveled to Eugene, who still had his head buried in the menu. She scooted her chair back but didn’t move to rise, her mouth working like a fish.
I am so good. This was scoring a major hit. I couldn’t believe these two hadn’t heard the news. How could that be? Maybe they were playing with me. Betsy was a great actress, putting on airs and such, but pretending not to know of a murder? I wasn’t real sure that was within even her abilities.
“Does the chief have any suspects?” This question popped out while Eugene’s eyes burned a hole through his menu. Being a politician, he just might be the better actor of the two.
“Sure he does. I’ve got me a few too. That degree is firing up my head with all kinds of theories to pursue.”
Your Goose Is Cooked (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery) Page 8