2 A Deadly Beef

by Jessica Beck

"Well, well. Penny’s clearly not sharing everything with us, is she?"

  "That just means that we’ll have to push her a little harder the next time we talk to her," Moose said.

  "Why don’t we just go back in right now and get the ball rolling again?" I asked him as I started back for The Suds Center’s front door.

  Moose put a hand on my shoulder. "I’ve got a better idea. Let’s give her a little time to stew over things first. Our questioning might be a little more effective if we let her imagination run a little wild first."

  "I can see that working with her," I admitted. "So, should we go tackle Dave Evans?"

  Moose glanced at his watch, and then said, "We can try, but I have a hunch he’s starting to get busy at Trudy’s about now." Dave’s independent grocery store had been named for his first wife at her father’s insistence, and since he’d provided the funds to buy the place, Dave hadn’t had much choice. Three years later after the divorce was final, the only way Dave could keep the store was to retain its name, and it would be Trudy’s now and forever, unless he somehow managed to repay the loan from his former father-in-law.

  I glanced at my watch, and then I said, "If we’re not going to question any more suspects at the moment, let’s go back to the diner, then. I want to relieve Martha."

  "There’s no need to rush on her account," Moose said. "She’s been a little bored around the house lately."

  "With you?" I asked my grandfather with a wicked grin.

  He pretended to look shocked by the question. "How could any woman alive be bored with me?"

  I started to make a list, but the expression on his face was priceless, and I ended up laughing instead. "Who indeed?"

  Back at The Charming Moose, Martha looked relieved to see us walk back in. "I’m so glad to see you both."

  "Is something wrong?" Moose asked as he put an arm around his wife.

  "No, everything’s fine here. I just worry about you so when you’re digging into murder."

  He swung her around and wrapped my grandmother up in his arms. "Woman, you’re not going to be able to get rid of me that easily."

  "Moose, if I wanted you gone, you’d be gone. You realize that, don’t you?"

  He grinned down at her. "That’s what has kept me on my toes all of these years. Why else would I behave with such stellar conduct?"

  Martha shook her head, but I could still see her grinning. "Moose, do you honestly call that good behavior?"

  "I do what I can. Now let me take you home. Victoria’s taking over the front, starting right now."

  My grandmother looked at me and smiled. "Does that mean that you’ve solved the case already?"

  "Actually, we’ve barely gotten started," I said. I looked around, and then I asked her, "Where’s Jenny? She should have been here an hour ago."

  "She called in sick just after you two left. The poor thing’s got some kind of bug, but she offered to come in anyway when she heard that I was working the front by myself. I hope it’s all right, Victoria, but I told her that I could handle things here on my own, and she should stay home. If you need to go out again, I’d be glad to stay here and keep covering the front."

  "Thanks for the offer, but there’s not much Moose and I can do at the moment, and I decided that I’d rather be here than anywhere else in the world."

  "The place does get into your blood, doesn’t it?" Martha asked.

  "I won’t deny it. Do you ever miss working here on a more permanent basis?" I asked. If my grandmother wanted to go to work again, I was certain that I could find something for her.

  "I admit that I think about it from time to time, but a few shifts here and there tell me how lucky I am to be retired." She paused, and then added, "But you should never hesitate to call me if I can help. You know that, don’t you?"

  I kissed her cheek, and then I said, "I know it, and I appreciate it more than I can say."

  Moose frowned at me. "Hey, don’t I merit a kiss, too? I do a whole lot more than sub for you here at the diner."

  I kissed both of his cheeks, and then I said, "Now take off, you two. Moose, call me if something develops."

  "I will, as long as you promise to do the same," he said. "Should we try to talk to Dave after you get off work and close the diner tonight?"

  I thought about how appealing it sounded just to stay home with Greg, maybe even have a fire now that it was getting really chilly out, but I realized that we needed to jump on this case while it was still fresh. "Come by the house around eight," I said.

  "I’ll be there."

  After Moose and Martha were gone, I refilled a few glasses of tea and cups of coffee for our customers, and then I walked over to the pass-through window to chat with my husband until someone needed me.

  "What’s up with Jenny tonight?" I asked as he joined me from the other side.

  "Don’t ask me. She’s probably just got the boyfriend-flu again," Greg said. "You know how she gets when there’s a new man in her life."

  "If that’s true, I should skin her alive for ditching on Martha like that," I said. Jenny was usually pretty reliable, and I hated to think that I couldn’t count on her any more.

  "I’m just kidding," Greg said. "I’m sure she’s really sick. Do you want me to call her house and check on her?"

  "No, I’ll do it myself. If she really is sick, maybe I can take her some of your homemade chicken noodle soup a little later." As I looked around the diner, I added, "It looks like it’s just the two of us for the last two hours tonight. Do you think we can handle it all by ourselves?"

  "There’s no doubt in my mind," he said. "Did you have much luck in your investigation?"

  "You know how these things go. We have to do a lot of digging before we turn up anything that we can use. It’s tough getting folks to come clean with us."

  "You’ll manage it if anyone can," he said as he put a plated Mooseburger and fries on the window shelf. "This is for the Major."

  "I’ll take care of it," I said. I carried the plate to one of the far tables and put it down in front of the Major. I wasn’t really sure why everyone called him that, but as far as I knew, that had been his nickname for his entire life, so I never really questioned it.

  "Hello, Victoria," he said. "That looks delightful."

  "I hope you enjoy it," I said, and then I hesitated for a moment. It was a slow evening, and I had time to talk. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

  "Only if you don’t mind my eating while you ask. I hate cold French fries more than just about anything in the world."

  "Even more than war and pestilence?" I asked.

  He pondered that for a moment, and then he replied, "No, those would both have to go higher up on the list. Perhaps I misspoke."

  "Listen, I’ve often wondered about it, but I’ve never come right out and asked you. Do they call you The Major because of your military service?"

  "No, I never participated in any branch of the armed forces," he said as he smiled and took a bite of the first fry.

  "Then why does everyone in town call you The Major?" I asked.

  "Do you happen to know my older brother, Matthew?"

  I nodded. "He comes in here for breakfast every Thursday morning at six-thirty," I said.

  "And have you noticed that in all of the years since you took over The Charming Moose from your father that I’ve never come in on a Thursday morning myself?"

  "To be honest with you, I hadn’t really noticed," I said. "What’s wrong? Don’t you two get along?"

  "No, not in the slightest. We never have, and I’m afraid at our ages, we never will. You see, Matthew has never been happy with having a little brother."

  It was hard to think of this silver-haired man as anyone’s little brother, even thought I knew that it was a fact. "What does that have to do with your name, though?"

  "He started referring to me in elementary school as The Major, and I’m afraid it caught on, even at that young age."

  "But what does it mean?"

 
"Can you keep a secret?" he asked me softly.

  "Not from my husband," I said. "Everyone else is negotiable."

  "Even Moose?"

  "Even Moose," I said.

  "Very well, then. The Major wasn’t the full nickname he gave me, at least not at first. He loved to say that I was a major pain in his rear, though he’s never been nearly as delicate about it as I have been."

  "And you don’t mind folks calling you that now, based on what it’s derived from?" I asked.

  "Ah, there’s the rub. Victoria, do you want to know my real first name?"

  I nodded. "Sure. Is that a secret, too?"

  "Absolutely. My full given name is Hillary Grace Hitchings, legitimate names taken from ancestors of mine long dead who had been equally cursed in their own times. Believe me when I tell you that I embraced the name ‘Major’ with every ounce of my being, since the alternatives were much worse."

  I stood and smiled. "I hope you enjoy your meal, Major."

  "There is no doubt in my mind that I will," he said. "It was pleasant chatting with you."

  When I got back to the counter, I noticed that Greg had been watching us. "That took an extraordinarily long time to deliver a burger and fries."

  "I stopped to chat for a minute," I said.

  "About anything in particular?"

  "I’ll tell you tonight. Oh, that reminds me. Moose wants to go out investigating this evening, so we’ll have to eat something here before we go home."

  Greg grinned at me. "That shouldn’t be a problem. I believe I’ll be able to whip something good up."

  "I think so, too," I said.

  "Should we try to eat a bite together now, or wait until we close?"

  "Let’s take a chance and try it now," I said. "I’m starving, though I don’t quite know why."

  "Snooping around is hard work," he said. "Do you have any preferences, or should I just surprise you?"

  "I’m feeling lucky tonight," I said. "Go on; give it your best shot."

  Ten minutes later, Greg came out of the kitchen with two plates. They were both sporting his famous fried chicken fingers, lima beans cooked just the way I liked them, and complementary sides of cranberry sauce.

  "How’s that look?" he asked.

  "Like a dream come true."

  We each got half a dozen bites in before a crowd rushed into the diner, and then it was time to take care of them. I smiled at Greg as he took the plates away, and then I got to work making sure that everyone was fed as fast and as courteously as possible.

  Such was the life of a married couple who ran a diner.

  And I wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world.

  "Are you ready to go, Victoria?" Moose asked as he walked into the diner ten minutes before we were supposed to close for the night.

  "I didn’t think we were going out until later," I said as I put a few plates and glasses in the tub of dirty dishes sitting behind the counter.

  "We can’t just wait around here until you’re finished," Moose said. "We’ve got things to do and people to see."

  "Moose, you know just as well as I do that running a diner is a full-time job. I can’t run this place and race around town with you at a moment’s notice."

  He frowned a second, and then said, "I suppose I could call Martha."

  "For that little amount of work? I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you grab a cup of coffee, find an errant newspaper, and make yourself invisible until I’m ready to go," I suggested with a grin.

  "We both know how hard that would be to make happen."

  "Tell you what. Why don’t you give it a try."

  He nodded, and as my grandfather made his way to one of the empty booths, he said, "It would be a lot easier if I had some pie to keep me company, too."

  "Any kind in particular?"

  "You know me. Just as long as it’s pie, I’ll be a happy man," he answered with a big grin.

  I walked to the display and got him a piece of pumpkin pie. He used to serve it year-round when he ran the place, but Dad had scaled it back to between October and December, and that was one change he’d made that I’d agreed with. Being rare on the menu was what made it so special, and besides, neither Mom nor Greg enjoyed making pumpkin pies, though they were both happy enough to make just about any other kind we asked them to.

  I added a dollop of real whipped cream to the top of it and delivered it to Moose. The man actually rubbed his hands together as I put the slice of pie down in front of him.

  To his credit, when we locked the doors ten minutes later, he put his own plate in one of the tubs, and then he grabbed a bar towel. "What can I do to speed things up?"

  "If you’ll wipe down the tables and carry those dirty dishes to the back, I’ll run the reports on the register and get the deposit ready."

  "Sounds like a plan to me," he said as he did as I’d asked. As I passed the kitchen pass-through window, I spotted Greg watching Moose work, but when I started to ask him something, my husband quickly scurried back to his own work.

  We were finished in record time, and thankfully everything balanced out, so the deposit was an easy one to fill out.

  Greg came out front just as I was stuffing the money and the completed deposit slip into the bag. "Would you like me to drop that off? It’s on the way home, and I figure it isn’t fair to make Moose wait another second than he already has."

  "You wouldn’t mind?" I asked as I handed it to him.

  "Go, and be safe," he said, and then he leaned in and gave me a peck.

  "We’ll do our best," I said.

  Moose was standing by the front door, tapping one foot as he kept looking at the clock.

  "I’m coming, don’t rush me," I said. "What’s the rush?"

  "We need to talk to Dave before he goes home for the night. If we can catch him at the store, I have a hunch that he’ll be more willing to talk to us than if we confront him at home."

  "Lead on, then," I said as I followed my grandfather to his truck to interview another of our suspects.

  GREG’S POT ROAST

  This recipe is one of my slow cooker favorites, and what’s a diner without good old fashioned pot roast on the menu? There are variations you can try, say omitting the mushrooms if you’d like, or using full sodium versions of the broth and soup, but we like this seasoned to the taste of the individual. Lately we’ve been experimenting with several low sodium products in the kitchen, and it’s amazing to us how much better all of our food tastes. The meat falls apart to the touch, and the veggies are tender delights. This is a great recipe year round, but we especially enjoy it on a cool autumn evening or a chilly winter afternoon. An added bonus is the house smells delightful as this meal is cooking, and by the time it’s complete, I’m always ready to eat!

  Ingredients

  1 boneless beef chuck roast (2 1/2 to 3 pounds)

  2 teaspoons seasoning (I like Montreal Steak)

  3 Tablespoons Flour, All Purpose

  1/4 cup Canola Oil, or enough to cover the bottom of your skillet

  1 can Low Sodium Fat-Free Beef Broth (14.5 oz)

  1 can Low Sodium condensed Cream of Mushroom soup (10 3/4-ounce)

  2 Tablespoons Butter

  1 onion, coarsely chopped

  2 bay leaves

  Baby Bella Mushrooms, sliced (10 oz)

  6-10 New Potatoes (they are small, and we like gold)

  1 package Baby Carrots (16 oz)

  Directions

  Rub the roast on all sides with the flour mixed with seasoning.

  Over medium high heat, sear the roast on both sides until it’s brown in enough Canola Oil to cover the bottom of your skillet.

  Place roast in the bottom of your slow cooker.

  Add the beef broth to the hot pan and deglaze.

  Pour the broth onto the meat in the slow cooker. Do not add any water!

  In the skillet, melt the butter and sauté half the coarsely chopped onion until it browns slightly.

  Spoon out the
Cream of Mushroom Soup on top of the roast.

  Spoon the sautéed onion on top of the soup, and then add the rest of the onion, coarsely chopped.

  Add half the mushrooms, sliced, to the mix.

  Add two bay leaves to the mix.

  Cook three hours on High.

  After three hours, add baby carrots, new potatoes, and the remainder of the mushrooms (sliced) to the mix. An alternative is to add the potatoes after three hours, and the carrots and mushrooms after two, but either way is fine.

  Continue cooking for three hours on High, and then enjoy!

  One option is to make gravy by adding cornstarch to the juices after cooking and reducing the result to half on the stovetop by simmering it.

  Chapter 4

  As we neared Trudy’s Grocery, Moose and I must have spotted the sheriff’s cruiser at the same time. He drove past without slowing down, but I wasn’t sure that was the right thing to do.

  "Maybe he’s just in there shopping instead of talking to Dave," I said. "It might be perfectly innocent."

  "Let’s say you’re right, though I doubt it. Even if Sheriff Croft is in the grocery store on some other business entirely, how’s he going to take it if we show up and start grilling Dave? No matter why he’s inside, we’re going to have to come back later."

  "That’s a good point. I hadn’t even thought of that," I said, though I wasn’t happy about pushing our investigation until even later into the evening. I’d worked a full day, and I needed my rest, but our search had to take precedence over a little lost rest on my part.

  As we rounded the corner for the third time, I glanced back and saw the sheriff getting into his patrol car. It looked as though he was finally leaving.

  "Circle the block one more time," I told Moose.

  "We can’t keep doing this all night," my grandfather said.

  "We won’t have to. I just saw the sheriff leaving."

  We made an even wider loop around town to be sure to give Sheriff Croft enough time to leave, and sure enough, by the time we pulled back up in front of the grocery store, he was gone.

  But then again, so was everyone else. In our caution to miss the sheriff, we’d also overshot Dave’s regular hours of operation. It appeared that we’d have to come back again tomorrow.