2 A Deadly Beef

by Jessica Beck

  "Call it whatever you want," Moose said, "but it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth."

  "Well, I for one appreciate it," the sheriff said.

  "I’m willing to bet that the three of them won’t," Moose said. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go over something with Greg in the kitchen before I go."

  Sheriff Croft got a call on his radio as he nodded to Moose, and then he turned his back to us. The sheriff was on for a long time, and when he finally got off, there was a pronounced frown on his face.

  "Is there trouble?" I asked.

  "More than I even like to think about," he said. "I just got my monthly update on crime in our area. It’s something the state police are doing as a courtesy, but to tell you the truth, at times it can be a little overwhelming, given my limited time, budget, and staff. Why Raleigh insists on doing it over the radio is beyond me."

  "What kind of problems do you have to deal with on a countywide basis?" I asked, curious about the kinds of trouble the sheriff had to deal with.

  "Let’s see. There have been a couple of cases of arson in the area recently, somebody’s called in three bomb threats to one of the local high schools in Laurel Landing, the marijuana trade is evidently picking up throughout the entire county, and there was an attempted robbery in Molly’s Corners this morning that didn’t turn out how the crook expected."

  "Was anyone hurt in the robbery?" Moose asked as he returned just in time to hear the sheriff mention the robbery "No, in a way, that one’s kind of funny. It turned out the perp picked the wrong woman to go after in the mall parking lot. She was an off-duty state police investigator out on maternity leave, and she was shopping for diapers when he made a grab for her purse. Evidently, she had him in handcuffs before he knew what hit him. She told one of the cops who came onto the scene that she’d been missing the action of her job, and she had a lot of fun apprehending him. All in all, it’s nothing much out of the ordinary, and all of it can wait. I’ve got a murder on my hands at the moment, and that goes to the head of the line." Almost as an afterthought, he turned back to us on his way out and said, "I’ll touch base with you two later."

  After the sheriff left the diner, Moose started to disappear in back, no doubt to confer with Greg about something culinary.

  I wasn’t about to let him get away with scooting off, though, as I followed him into the kitchen.

  My grandfather and I needed to have a little chat.

  As I walked into the room, I found Moose waiting for me with an agitated expression on his face. "Now Victoria, before I get a lecture from you about being loyal to my friends and keeping my mouth shut with the police, you need to realize that I had to say what I did to Sheriff Croft. It was the only way I could get the man off our family as his main suspects, and I had to do it fast."

  "I just have one question for you, Moose. You didn’t make any of that up, did you?" I asked him.

  "Of course not. Everything I told him was the solid truth, and if I hadn’t done it, he would have never allowed us to dig into the murder ourselves."

  "Okay, I can see that," I said, accepting his explanation. My grandfather had taught me many things in my lifetime, and some of them might even conflict on occasion, but one thing was certain; he was a man of his word, and I knew that I could always believe him when he told me that he was telling the truth. Sure, Moose might fib to me to get a smile, but he would never outright lie. It was something I could count on as much as I did seeing the sun coming up in the east every morning.

  When Greg saw that the tension between my grandfather and me was gone, he asked, "If you don’t mind me asking, who are your suspects so far?"

  Moose started to tell him when I interrupted. "It doesn’t bother you if we do this, does it, Greg?"

  "Are you kidding? If you hadn’t decided to do it yourselves, I was going to urge you both to find the killer. This could destroy the diner if folks think one of us killed Wally Bain, and the questions the sheriff is going to be asking around town aren’t going to help matters any."

  "Does that mean that you’re not worried about me?" I asked him.

  "Of course I am," he answered quickly, "but you’re a grown woman, and your grandfather has grown even more. That’s only fair, since he’s been here a whole lot longer than you have." He added the last bit with a slight grin.

  "What is that supposed to mean?" Moose asked him.

  "That if we cut you in half and counted your rings, I’d probably get tired before we got from the middle to the outside edge."

  "Is that a comment on my age, or your math skills?" Moose asked with a smile of his own.

  "Maybe a little bit of both, to be honest with you," my husband answered with a laugh. The two of them were so close that it was hard to believe sometimes that they were only related through Greg’s marriage to me.

  "Okay you two," I said. "Enough with the semi-witty banter."

  "Come on, Victoria," Moose said. "We were just getting warmed up."

  "Sorry, but you’ll have to save it for another day." I looked intently at Moose as I asked, "Should we call a family meeting, or should we just assume that everyone else will be fine with our investigation?"

  "I say we act first and apologize later," Moose said happily.

  "Greg?" I asked.

  "If you ask me, you should take three minutes to call your mom and dad before you do anything," he said to me, and then he turned to Moose. "You, on the other hand, might need a little more time to persuade Martha, but it will be well spent, if I know your wife at all."

  Moose nodded as his smile faded. "When you’re right, you’re right. I’ll be back."

  I would have loved to have heard what he was going to say to my grandmother, but I had two calls of my own to make.

  Once Mom and Dad heard the circumstances of Wally’s murder, and how we were all tied into it, they gave me their blessing to investigate, with the two reservations that Moose and I be careful, and that I look out for my grandfather. I assured them that I would, hoping that I’d be able to keep the promise that we’d be careful, but with Moose, it didn’t do to ever take anything for granted.

  Chapter 2

  Moose came back into the kitchen a minute after I hung up with my father. "We’re all clear," he said as he gave me a thumbs-up.

  "Did Martha insist on any restrictions?" I asked. I knew my grandmother too well, and she didn’t suffer fools gladly, even when Moose played the part from time to time.

  "I’m supposed to keep you safe," he admitted reluctantly. "How about you?"

  "I’ve been instructed to watch out for you, too," I said with a grin.

  "Good luck with that," Moose said laughing. "Better folks than you have tried over the years, and the only thing that they had in common was that they all failed miserably."

  "Well, I’ll just have to do my best," I said, and then I turned back to my husband. "Greg, I’m going to see if Jenny can come in early to watch the front so Moose and I can start digging." Jenny Hollister was our late afternoon-early evening server, working from four to seven at the diner. That schedule allowed her to go to college nearby during the day, work a little at the diner for some spending money, and still have her late evenings free. I wished yet again that I had her energy, but I didn’t envy anything else about her life, though she clearly thrived on her hectic schedule.

  After ten rings, Jenny’s cell phone went to voicemail, though.

  "She’s not answering," I said, and then turned to Moose. "Sorry, but we’re going to have to wait until four when she shows up."

  Moose looked at his watch in disgust. "Victoria, that’s nearly ninety minutes."

  "What else can we do? As good as he is, Greg can’t take the orders, make the meals, and then ring everyone up at the register, too."

  "Don’t worry about me. I can handle it," my husband said, but there was a distinct lack of confidence in his voice as he said it.

  "It’s impossible, and you know it. I’m not even going to ask you to try," I
said.

  "Hang on. Let me make a call," Moose said as he headed for the dining room.

  I didn’t think he’d have any more luck than I had, but knowing Moose, he might actually have a number for Jenny that I wasn’t aware of. I knew that the two of them were friends, but to what extent, I didn’t have a clue.

  "We’re all set," Moose said thirty seconds later when he came back into the kitchen. "She’s on her way."

  I was a little hurt by his instant success. "How did you manage to track Jenny down when I couldn’t find her myself?"

  Moose looked surprised by my question. "You told me Jenny wasn’t answering her phone."

  "Then who did you call?"

  "Your grandmother," Moose admitted.

  "I thought she was retired from the diner life for good this time," I said.

  "She’s always willing to lend a hand; you know that, Victoria. Besides, Martha gets bored sometimes, and coming in to work the front every now and then is good for her."

  "If you say so," I said.

  Martha was there to take my place in less than ten minutes, and I kissed Greg goodbye before my grandfather and I left the diner.

  "Take care of yourself, Victoria," Greg said softly. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

  "You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine," I said, happy to have someone like him concerned about my safety and wellbeing.

  Moose was snagging a quick kiss from Martha when I walked out into the dining room, and it was too good an opportunity to tease him to pass up. "Come on, Moose, are you going to investigate with me, or are you going to just hang around the diner kissing Martha for the rest of the day?"

  "Hold your horses. I’m coming with you," he said as he gave his wife one last peck before we headed out the door.

  I never looked forward to investigating murder, but the task still seemed to fall at my feet anyway. If I were being honest about it, I’d have to admit that there was a part of me that enjoyed the puzzle aspects of tracking down a killer, but I was always aware of just how dangerous what we did was to our lives.

  One mistake would be all that it would take for either one of us to come to a bad end, and that thought was never far from my mind when we went in search of a killer.

  The day was glorious, one of those autumn moments that made the foothills and mountains of North Carolina so wonderful to experience, and something I never grew tired of. Though the leaves were mostly gone from the trees, there were still a few stragglers holding on until later, and they flickered and danced in the wind as it passed them by. We’d had our share of chilly weather so far this season, but at the moment, we were enjoying sunny days and cool evenings. It was my favorite time of year, and not even Wally Bain’s murder could steal all of the pleasure that I took in the season.

  "How do you like driving Dad’s truck?" I asked Moose as I buckled my seatbelt.

  "It was mine in the first place, remember?"

  I’d been in an accident in Moose’s truck, and it had been declared beyond repair by the insurance company, as well as the only mechanic in the county that my grandfather trusted. My dad had taken the opportunity to sell my grandfather back his old truck for a single dollar bill. It was an old Ford pickup that he hadn’t driven in years, but it was still nicer than the one I’d managed to destroy. The dollar bill was easily explained. There was no way any man in my family would take something for free, and the irony was that Moose had sold the truck to Dad several years before, again, for a single buck.

  I found it fitting that nobody had made, or lost, a dime on the transaction.

  "I’m not about to forget that it was yours. After all, you taught me to drive in it. You haven’t forgotten that, have you?"

  "How do you think I got all of these gray hairs?" my grandfather said. It hadn’t been an easy or particularly pleasant experience for either one of us, but he was the only one I’d allowed to give me lessons. "You had them long before I came along," I said.

  "Not true, and you know it," he said with a grin. "I’ve always looked youthful for a man my age."

  "Is it hard to get used to driving it again?" I asked as I lightly stroked the dashboard.

  "I’m getting used to it," he said as he looked out through the windshield at the paint job, a monotone blue with just a few patches of gray primer on the hood. "I just wish that it was a little more colorful."

  "You can always just spot-paint it yourself," I said, remembering what a patchwork of different colors his old truck had been. "I’ll even throw in half a dozen cans of spray paint myself."

  "Don’t rush the process, Victoria. It’ll get there all on its own. Now, who should we tackle first? I don’t want to get in Sheriff Croft’s way, but we have to get started."

  I thought about it as he started the truck, and then said, "Penny Rusk works at The Suds Center, so I doubt she’s going anywhere. Dave Evans is at the grocery store more than I’m at the diner, so he’s always around, too. I say we try to find Ron Watkins first. Do you have any idea where the man might be, or should we just head to Laurel Landing and see if we can find him roaming the streets, since that’s the last place you saw him?"

  "We don’t have to drive that far," Moose said. "I made a few phone calls while you were talking to your folks on the phone, and it turns out that Ron didn’t wander as far away from Jasper Fork as I was afraid he might."

  "Where is he, Moose? You’re not holding out on me, are you?" Sometimes it was like pulling teeth getting my grandfather to tell me anything that I didn’t know.

  "Relax, Victoria. He’s helping out for a few weeks on Sally Ketchum’s farm."

  "Are you telling me that he’s working right next door to Wally’s place?" I asked. It was as close as he could be without actually being directly on Wally Bain’s land.

  "That’s right," Moose said. "Let’s take a trip out there and have a little chat with Ron. What do you say?"

  "I’m all for it, but should we call the sheriff first and tell him what we’re planning to do?" I asked. I had no desire to get in the way of our local law enforcement, even if it might mean that we were able to collect some information about one of our suspects before Sheriff Croft could get around to it.

  "I’m planning on leaving him a voice mail, actually," Moose said with the hint of a smile.

  "And when exactly were you thinking about doing that?"

  "I believe somewhere around three minutes after we talk to Ron sounds about good to me," Moose said.

  "Are you sure we shouldn’t give him a heads up first?" I was hesitant about crossing the sheriff, especially so close to when we’d made our deal with him.

  "Victoria, I’ll admit that I heard that Ron was going to be there for a while, but what if that’s not true? The worst thing that can happen is that neither of us gets a chance to talk to him while he’s still here. If you think of it that way, we’re actually doing the sheriff a favor. Do you honestly think he’ll drop everything to follow up on a lead we give him? This way we can talk to the man first, and if he tells us anything important, we’ll make that call straight away. I promise."

  "I guess I can live with that," I said, after I thought about it. "Still, I’m glad we’ve got Rebecca in our corner."

  Moose looked puzzled by the admission. "So am I, but why did you bring her up just now?"

  "Think about it. If we get arrested for obstructing justice, it’s nice to know that we’ve already got an attorney on retainer."

  "We’ve still got two, don’t we?" Moose asked. "Monica Ingram never returned your dollar, did she?"

  "No. As far as I know, I’m still a client of hers." I’d retained the Laurel Landing attorney in a previous investigation. She had been much like Rebecca: smart, savvy, and a kindred spirit.

  "Hang on a second. I thought we both hired her," Moose said.

  "You were too afraid to come out of the truck to talk to her, remember?" I reminded Moose. My grandfather had been a little intimidated by the female attorney, though he’d never h
ad any trouble with Rebecca. "Besides, it was my dollar that hired her."

  He reached over to the dash and pulled out a pair of quarters. "There you go. Now we’re partners."

  I shrugged as I tucked the change into my pocket.

  "Hey, that’s out of my sweet tea fund," he said. "I’m going to need that back."

  "Sorry, but all transactions are final; there are no returns or refunds."

  He shook his head as a soft hint of laughter escaped. "That’s my girl."

  "Hey, I learned from the best. With your money, I’m close to buying another vehicle of my own. After all, a dollar is the family currency, isn’t it?"

  "I wasn’t aware that you needed a new car," he said.

  "I don’t at the moment, but you never know. This crime fighting can be dangerous business."

  "You don’t have to remind me," Moose said. "I’m the one who lost a truck, remember?"

  When we got to the turnoff to Sally’s farm, Moose and I found Ron transferring neatly arranged centerpieces from the back of a four-wheeler to a table right beside the county road. Moose pulled his truck in, and as we got out, I saw Ron flinch a little at the sight of us. It appeared that he wasn’t all that excited about seeing either one of us, but that wasn’t going to stop us.

  "Ron, how are you doing?" Moose asked as he extended a hand, which the farmhand took.

  "Fair to middling," Ron replied. Somewhere in his early twenties, the young man was tall and skinny, and I had a hard time believing that he could lift more than fifty pounds, but Moose had vouched for his ability to work hard and long, and I wasn’t about to dispute it.

  "Do you just leave these out here?" I asked as I looked at the display pieces. "What’s to keep people from just stealing them?"

  "I asked Sally the same thing, but she told me that she’s never lost a dime working by the honor system," he explained as he put out an old lidded bucket for payment.

  I picked up one of the centerpieces and looked at it. It was an intricate arrangement of pinecones, branches, and flowers, all placed nicely in a shiny new stainless steel pint bucket. It was actually quite lovely, and I was surprised to see that it was just six dollars. "Is this price right?" I asked him.