2 A Deadly Beef

by Jessica Beck

  I was about to knock when the door opened, but just a little bit.

  "Victoria, what are you doing here?" he asked, not at all pleased with my sudden appearance on his doorstep.

  "I came by to apologize," I said. It was the first thing that popped into my mind. What on earth was I going to apologize for?

  Dave looked equally interested in my explanation. "I wasn’t aware that you did anything wrong."

  "It’s not me. It’s Moose."

  I held my breath as I waited for an involuntary reaction from my grandfather at the sound of his name, but he managed to keep quiet.

  At least so far, anyway.

  "What about Moose?"

  "He was a little abrupt earlier, but I wanted you to know that his heart’s in the right place." It was true enough, but I wasn’t sure how Moose would handle hearing it coming from my lips.

  There was still silence from the shadows, so that was good.

  "Don’t worry about it. I’ve known your grandfather for a long time," Dave said with a soft smile. I could see his shoulders ease a little, and I knew that I’d taken the right path with him.

  "I appreciate that more than I can say."

  "Victoria, would you like to come in for a minute or two? I just picked up some fresh cider from Sally Ketchum’s farm tonight. She’s been after me to start carrying it in the store for years, so I finally tasted it tonight, and the stuff’s really good. I even bought half a gallon of it from her to drink here at home."

  "Thanks, but I really do have to get home," I said. "Greg’s waiting for me."

  "Surely he wouldn’t mind if you had a sip or two before you left," Dave said. Was the man that lonely? Since his marriage with Trudy had dissolved, I knew that he’d kept pretty close to himself, but I wasn’t the answer to any of his problems.

  "How about a rain check?" I asked. "I’m really beat tonight."

  "Any time," Dave said, and then he closed the door on me. I heard the dead bolt slide into place, and I had a hunch that the grocer was in for the night.

  I walked back to Moose’s truck, and a minute later, he opened the driver’s side door and slid inside.

  I was about to explain why I’d said what I had about him during my conversation with Dave when Moose held up a hand. "Victoria, there’s no need to apologize," he said. "I knew immediately that it was a ploy, pure and simple."

  That wasn’t entirely true, but I decided to leave well enough alone. If Moose was willing to shrug it off, then so was I. "Thanks for understanding."

  "Think nothing of it. So, Dave’s evening visit to Sally Ketchum’s farm was for nothing more than cider. It appears that we’ve hit another dead end."

  "We should be used to it by now," I said as I stifled a yawn. "Any other ideas about what else we can do tonight?"

  "Honestly, I think we’ve done enough for one day. We’ll think better after a full night’s sleep, and no one’s going anywhere this evening. Besides, I believe that our spouses will be more than happy to see us at home."

  I wasn’t about to argue; my grandfather was right. I was beat, and nothing sounded better than heading home and spending a little quality time with Greg.

  When he saw me nod in agreement, Moose said, "Victoria, you must be worn out to give in that easily."

  "What can I say? When you make sense, there’s no arguing with you."

  He wasn’t sure how to react to that, so my grandfather decided to leave it in silence as he chauffeured me home.

  Evidently Greg had been waiting by the door, because the second Moose pulled in, the porchlight flipped on and my husband came outside to greet us.

  "Greg, you didn’t have to wait for me by the door," I said, "as much as I appreciate the gesture."

  "What can I say? I missed you."

  "I don’t know how," I said with a laugh. "We spend every day together. I didn’t think that would ever be possible."

  "Call me quirky, but I happen to love being with my wife."

  Moose nodded as he slapped Greg’s back. "You’re a man after my own heart, Greg. Now, if you two will excuse me, I have a spouse of my own I miss."

  After he was gone, Greg and I walked inside the house together. "That really was sweet of you," I said as I looked at our collection of guidebooks spread out on the kitchen table. "Are you working on our trip?"

  "I had some spare time on my hands, and I keep thinking that if I get all of the details planned, we’ll actually go someday," he said.

  My husband and I still hadn’t taken a proper honeymoon, even after all of our years together, but we kept promising ourselves that someday we would. So far, we’d been able to narrow our dream trip down to ten days, all we could realistically take off from the diner at any one time. "So, what’s the itinerary at this point?"

  "The way I see it, right now we’ve got four days in London, two in Ireland, and then four in Paris."

  "Wow, three countries in ten days? That’s a lot of flying, Greg."

  "I suppose we could always give up Ireland if we had to, but do we really want to do that?" he asked. "We’ve both dreamed of driving through the Irish countryside, and the trip from Dublin to Trim Castle will allow us to do just that. I figure if we don’t sleep until we get back, we’ll have enough time for most of the things on our list that we want to do."

  "Let’s see what we might be able to cut," I said as I picked up one of the guidebooks for Paris. "You know, I’ve been thinking about it, and I really want to spend a little time strolling through the city, even if it means giving up one of the art museums on our list."

  We were still discussing the pros and cons of trimming a few museums from our schedule when I began to yawn. "I’m sorry, Greg, but I’m afraid that this is going to have to wait until another day. We have time."

  "That’s a dangerous trap we’ve been falling into," Greg said as we stood. Instead of heading to our bedroom, he took my hands in his and said, "Victoria, I don’t want us to spend our lives planning this trip without ever taking it. We need to pick a time to go soon, and see these things while we’re still able to enjoy them."

  Funny, but I’d been thinking the same thing myself. Though I hadn’t been all that close to Wally Bain, the abrupt way he’d lost his life had struck a chord with me. What we had today offered no guarantees for tomorrow, and I didn’t want to get to the end of my life with a long list of things I only wished that I’d done.

  "What about your birthday?" I asked.

  "What about it?" Greg asked.

  "Let’s go near the first of May next year. If we work it right, we can have breakfast in Paris on your birthday and dinner in London that night. How does that sound? Can we plan this thing for real in six months time?"

  "You bet we can," he said. "Victoria, are we really going to do this?"

  "I’m game if you are. We might not be able to stay at any fancy places while we’re there, but we should be able to swing it all on a budget if we’re careful. One thing, though. Don’t be expecting a gift."

  "Being with you in Europe is the best birthday present I could ever ask for," Greg said.

  "Then it’s a date. We’ll have chocolate croissants by the Seine in Paris for breakfast, and steaks by the Thames for dinner."

  "You’ve got yourself a date," Greg said, and we went to sleep with dreams of a proper honeymoon dancing in our heads.

  Chapter 5

  I was getting ready to open the front door of the diner the next morning promptly at six when I noticed that there was someone standing in the shadows just beyond the reach of our light. I might have been a little jumpy because of the murder, but just in case, I grabbed our diner security device before I unlocked the door. Mom was back in the kitchen getting ready for her early shift, so I decided not to bother her. I had to admit that Greg’s aluminum softball bat felt reassuring in my hand.

  "Come out into the light," I called as I opened the door, keeping the bat at my side as I peered into the darkness to try to get a glimpse of whoever was standing in the sh
adows.

  "Victoria, are you going to try to get in a softball game this early in the morning?" Chester Longfield asked as he stepped toward me out of the shadows and into the light. Chester was a longtime customer and an old friend to The Charming Moose, as well as being one of our breakfast regulars.

  "No, but I thought I might try for a little batting practice," I replied as I stepped aside to let him in.

  "Well, you know what I say. It’s never too late," he said.

  "Or too early, as the case may be," I replied. I stowed the bat back in its proper place, grabbed a menu, and followed Chester to his usual spot. "Do you even need this?" I asked as I held the menu up.

  "No, thanks. I’ll have my usual."

  I jotted Chester’s order down as he looked around and asked, "Where’s Ellen?"

  "She’s running a little late this morning," I said. "Something came up with one of her kids." Our early-shift waitress was a single mom, and some days that meant she had to take care of emergencies that came up with her kids. I didn’t mind helping out whenever that happened. Ellen was a valuable asset to the diner, and I’d do just about anything to keep her with us.

  "Children have a way of spontaneously creating emergencies," Chester said with a grin.

  After I gave Chester’s order to Mom through the pass-through window, I came back and filled a coffee mug for him.

  I was about to clean a few menus while I had some downtime when Chester asked, "Is everything okay?"

  "Of course it is. Why do you ask?"

  He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "Victoria, we both know that you weren’t carrying that bat around for practice."

  "I’m really sorry about that. I guess I’m just a little jumpy lately."

  "Nobody can blame you for that," he said as he took a sip of coffee. "What happened to Wally Bain on his farm has everybody in town a little on edge."

  "It would be crazy if it hadn’t," I said. "Did you know Wally very well?"

  Chester shrugged. "I suppose I knew him well enough to say hello to whenever I saw him, but not well enough to loan money to, if you know what I mean."

  Chester was notoriously tight with his money, so I doubted that list was very big. "I didn’t realize there was anyone in town you’d crack your wallet for, Chester," I said with a grin.

  He nodded. "That’s a fair assumption, because there aren’t many. Offhand, I’d say that I’d loan money to you or your grandfather if either one of you needed it, but that’s probably about it. I’ll admit that it’s an awfully short list."

  I was frankly surprised by the confession, and more than a little honored, to be on his list. "You forgot your family."

  "My family," he said with a sigh. "I’m afraid that they’re an entirely different story. Of the whole clan, only my grandson would have a chance to make that cut. He’s as responsible as any teenager I’ve ever known."

  "You two are close, aren’t you?" I asked.

  "No more than you and Moose are," Chester acknowledged. "I’m not sure what it is about the relationship between a grandparent and grandchild. It’s not an automatic bonding, but when it clicks, there’s nothing in the world like it."

  I smiled. "It’s an interesting way to think about it," I said. "I’m not all that sure that Moose and I click. We have our fair share of squabbles from time to time."

  "That just shows you care," Chester said.

  "Then he must care about me a lot," I answered with a smile.

  "He does indeed," Chester said.

  Mom rang the bell, and I got Chester’s breakfast for him: two eggs over medium, two pieces of toast, and a dollop of grits. It never varied, which in a way was a real comfort. There weren’t many things in the world I could depend on staying the same, but Chester’s breakfast order was one of them.

  Later that morning, Ellen was at the diner waiting on our customers while I handled the register. Our breakfast diners tended to come in waves. The folks who worked mainly with their hands seemed to keep earlier hours, and wore more casual attire into the diner. They also seemed to laugh a little freer than the ones who came in later more dressed up for their office jobs. I didn’t envy either group their jobs. The diner was the perfect fit for me, and when there weren’t any murders to worry about, it was a pretty good life, all in all.

  I was still thinking about just how good I had it when Ron Watkins walked in. He looked haggard, and I wondered just how hard Sally was working him on her farm.

  "Sit anywhere you’d like," I said as I tried to hand him a menu, but he refused to take it.

  "Victoria, do you have a second?" he asked. I studied his face, and if he’d gotten more than three hours sleep the night before, I would have been amazed.

  "Sure. What can I do for you, Ron? Is something wrong?"

  Instead of answering, he glanced around the café. There were a handful of diners spread out, but no one particularly close to us at the time. "Could we talk outside?"

  "I would, but I’ve got to stay right here and run the register," I said. "We can chat safely enough, though. I doubt anyone will be able to hear us if we keep our voices down." I could have left the register duties to Ellen, but I wasn’t entirely certain that I wanted to leave the confines of the diner and go outside with Ron. There was something off-putting about his manner this morning that left me unsettled.

  Ron looked uncertain about taking me up on my offer, so I added, "Ron, nobody’s even paying any attention to us. Look around and see for yourself."

  He did as I suggested, and Ron must have seen that I was telling the truth. All of our diners were either absorbed in their conversations, or their breakfasts, to pay us any mind at all. I could see him start to shrug his agreement when the diner’s front door opened and Sheriff Croft walked in.

  "There you are, Ron. I’ve been looking all over the county for you this morning. Where have you been hiding yourself?"

  "I’ve been working," Ron said. It was clear that he was uncomfortable being questioned by the sheriff, even if it all seemed pretty casual to me.

  "Are you still at Sally’s place?" he asked. "I thought that was just temporary."

  "It started off that way, but she’s hired me on full-time," Ron said.

  "Good," the sheriff said as he patted the farmhand on the back. "That means you’ll be around Jasper Fork if I need to talk to you."

  "Sure thing," Ron said, and then he started for the door.

  I called out, "Hang on a second, Ron. Is there something I can get for you?"

  He just shook his head as he put his hand on the door. "I changed my mind. I’m not hungry after all."

  "Hang on a second," the sheriff said. "I’ll walk you out."

  Ron was clearly not pleased by the prospect, but he couldn’t very well refuse it, and the two men disappeared together.

  "What was that all about?" Ellen asked as she approached me a few seconds later. "I saw you and Ron chatting, but the second the sheriff showed up, the man took off like he was on fire."

  "I wish I knew," I said.

  Ellen just shrugged, and then she went back to her customers.

  Five minutes later, the sheriff came back into the diner, alone.

  "Is Ron still a suspect in your mind?" I asked Sheriff Croft before he could say a word of greeting.

  "In Wally Bain’s murder?" the sheriff asked.

  "No, in the crown jewel heist. Of course in Wally’s murder. What else could I have been talking about?"

  "There are more crimes than murder going on around here these days," the sheriff said cryptically.

  "What’s that supposed to mean?"

  "Nothing," he said, dismissing it handily. "How about some breakfast?"

  "Thanks, but I already ate," I answered with a slight smile.

  "That wasn’t an invitation," he said. "As a matter of fact, I’m meeting someone here in a few minutes, but there’s no reason why I can’t get a quick bite in first."

  "It’s awfully early for a hot date, Sheriff."

 
He shook his head. "This is business, not pleasure."

  "Anybody I know?" I asked.

  The sheriff thought about it for a second, and then he shrugged. "Word’s going to get out soon enough, but if you start grilling her before I have a chance to talk to her, our time for cooperating is over. Do you understand me, Victoria?"

  "I promise I won’t say a word to her, whoever she might be," I said. I was dying to find out who the sheriff was meeting, and I would have promised just about anything to know.

  "It’s Jan Bain."

  That surprised me, though it shouldn’t have. "Wally’s sister is coming here? She hasn’t been back to Jasper Fork in twenty years."

  "Well, a death in the family will do that to you," the sheriff said.

  "Is she a suspect, too?" I asked.

  Sheriff Croft shook his head. "Victoria, not everyone I interview is on my list of possible murderers; you know that, don’t you?"

  "I’m assuming that she’s going to inherit the farm, and everything else Wally owns, so that gives her motive," I said. "Besides, everybody knows that she and Wally never got along."

  "Victoria, you need to stop jumping to conclusions. Remember your promise."

  "I will, and I’ll keep it. I just don’t think you should dismiss her so quickly."

  "Who said anything about dismissing her? Now, let me mind my business, Woman, and you mind yours," the sheriff said.

  I watched Sheriff Croft as he took a seat at one of our booths, and I wondered just what he and Ron had discussed outside. The hired man hadn’t been happy about the sheriff’s sudden appearance, for whatever reason, and Sheriff Croft was being a little dismissive of my questions. I supposed that was his right, but I didn’t have to like it. Life would be so much simpler if everyone told me everything I wanted to know, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I just hoped that Ron came back later to finish telling me what he’d started to say. Until then, I was just going to have to live with the crushing curiosity.

  Ten minutes later, a woman came into the diner that I barely recognized. Only her prominent nose gave away the fact that this was Jan Bain. She’d left town as a plain, gangly girl with buck teeth and acne, but here was a woman of substance, pretty in her own way, but more commanding because of the way she carried herself than anything else. Only her signature way of approaching someone with speed, as though she was attacking, hadn’t changed.