by Ami Diane
Ella glanced at the clock. A minute late. She mouthed an apology to Wink then looked pointedly from the hissing table beside her to the mayor and Chester.
Wink picked up on the hint. Leaning her elbows onto the counter, she said to the mayor, “I ever tell you the time I glided into a tree?”
Mayor Bradford sipped at his coffee while Wink enraptured him with her harrowing escape from a tall cedar tree. While Wink’s mouth did the heavy lifting, her fingers broke off a chunk of donut and dropped it onto the floor, behind the counter, forcing Chester to have to flit over to it.
With both politician and pet distracted, Ella dropped onto the floor beside the booth. Kneeling, she reached into the shadows and felt a fluffy paw swipe at her.
“Please don’t do this. Not on my first day.”
Fluffy responded by rolling over.
Wink laughed a little louder than was necessary at something Mayor Bradford said. Ella glanced over her shoulder, making eye contact with the older woman. Wink’s eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch. Ella shook her head and shifted to reveal the feline under the table.
Just as the mayor began to spin on his stool, Wink grabbed the pot of coffee again. “More sludge, Earl?”
While Wink poured, Ella dived under the table. Hands met fur, and she gripped the cat and pulled. Twisting, Fluffy sank his claws into her forearm. Ella ground her teeth and managed not to scream or let go. She pulled both herself and the fur ball out from under the table, but not before hitting her head.
Once extricated, she tried to console the Maine coon. “Sorry, buddy. I’ll make it up to you.”
Turning her back slightly to the counter, Ella managed to get Fluffy out the front door without the mayor or Chester seeing. The moment his paws hit pavement, the cat cried at her and stuck his tail in the air.
Sighing, she pulled the door shut again. It wouldn’t surprise her if she found something special on her bed later as a form of payback. She had a lot of making up to do.
The mayor turned as the door jingled, confusion on his face at her second entrance in less than five minutes.
“There was a bug,” she explained.
He shrugged and mumbled something about “newcomers” before rolling his generous body back to face Wink again.
Ella slid behind the mayor and shot Wink a thumbs-up. The tension in the diner owner’s face eased.
Ella joined her behind the counter, accidentally mashing donut crumbs as she went. Chester paused mid-chew and chittered at her for ruining the morsels as more crumbs fell into the bib of his green overalls.
“I’m not stealing your donut, you nutter,” she muttered. “And I just saved your life. You owe me.”
After a few minutes of listening to the mayor drone on about the responsibilities beset him, the trouble he’s having with council members, and what to do about another dead cow on his hands, Ella draped herself over the counter and fought the urge to snooze. Mercifully, Wink told her to get acquainted with the cook and the kitchen, giving her an excuse to leave.
As Ella picked a careful, donut-free path towards the kitchen, her gaze snagged on where Kay had collapsed and died. She shivered at the memory, glanced back at Mayor Bradford, and stepped over the spot.
She swung the kitchen door in. The room appeared to be an addition built onto the old railcar about a decade after the fact. It gleamed under candescent lightbulbs and smelled of cleaning supplies.
Horatio stood behind a large island, slicing a knife through purple onions. She recognized the cook from the day Kay died, but they’d never officially met.
When he looked up, she could see the same emotion in his eyes that she felt. They reminded each other of that gruesome day.
Ella cleared her throat awkwardly then introduced herself. She held out her hand then retracted it when she remembered that one of his held a knife and the other was covered in onion slices.
“Yeah, I was at the town meeting when the mayor introduced you.” Horatio spoke with an accent—Italian if she had to guess. He broke the tension with a laugh. “He sure knows how to welcome a person.”
“Is ‘welcome’ the right word?”
“Embarrass?”
“I was going to say ‘humiliate and make me wish I’d never come here’, but sure, we’ll go with ‘embarrass’.”
The air filled again with the chop-chop of his knife, and Ella’s eyes began to water.
“We’re sure glad to have the help. I wasn’t sure how we’d get by without…” He let the sentence die. His lips pressed together, and the chops of his knife bit into the cutting board.
Ella picked at an apron hanging against the wall but didn’t take it off its hook. “It’s just a trial until we’re sure I can hack it.”
“You’ll be fine.”
People seemed to have far more confidence in her than she did or severely underestimated her ability to screw up an order.
“Sure, so long as no one asks me to cook anything.”
He laughed. “That bad, huh?”
“Let’s just say I once microwaved a burrito that caught on fire.”
His eyebrows knitted with confusion. “What’s a microwave?”
“God’s gift to humanity. And a college student’s means of survival.” She then proceeded to describe the appliance but stopped when he started asking how the food heated up so quickly.
Grandma Wink swept through the door and caught the last bit of their conversation. “Oh, I read about those. Saw an ad for one, but that was shortly before our first jump. Those things are expensive. Wish we had one here.” She looked over the kitchen wistfully.
After telling them how affordable the invention was in her time, Ella apologized for being late and for Fluffy.
Wink dismissed the apology. “Happens all the time. That cat is constantly hunting my poor Chester—” She stopped and took in Ella’s outfit. “You’re not changed yet.”
Ella looked down at her pants then at the apron still hanging on the wall. “What’s wrong with my jeans?”
A drawer squealed as Wink opened it and produced a pink gingham print waitress uniform. “With a town all over time, people need a place that feels like home. For most of us non-transplants, it’s the era of burned coffee and poodle skirts.”
Ella accepted the uniform, grateful she didn’t have to wear a poodle skirt.
After changing in the small restroom, she became Wink’s shadow, greeting customers as they walked in and watching how the owner took food orders.
Ever the linguist, Ella used the back of an order pad to keep a running vocabulary list of all the diner lingo. It wasn’t just “eggs on toast,” but “chickens on a raft” and so on.
Five hours later, after the lunch rush, Ella had a moment to catch her breath and rest her tired “dogs” as Wink would call them.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, she guzzled a glass of water and mopped at her forehead. The smell of freshly baked bread permeated the room while Horatio stood over the island, sharpening his knives.
They made idle chitchat about his wife and kid until the kitchen door whooshed open, and Wink swept in. Wisps of flour floated from her apron like clouds.
She squeezed Ella into her bony side for a hug. “It’s so nice having you here, dear.”
“It’s nice being here.”
“And not a single fire yet.”
“Give it time. Oh, and sorry about the dish. And the pickles.” Ella winced, remembering the tangy smell as she’d mopped up the mess.
The front door jingled. Wink peered through the passthrough where Horatio usually placed plates of food.
“Ella, would you mind? I need to run some errands, and I have an appointment with Jenny.” Her veiny hand brushed her blue bob, leaving a flour residue behind.
“Of course.” Ella pulled out her order pad.
“Oh, and can you pull the bread out in about ten minutes?”
“Yeah, or Horatio could—”
“Nonsense, dear. You’ll be fine. I gotta
run.”
Ella made note of the time on the kitchen clock before going to greet the newcomer. After putting the ticket on the passthrough, she glanced at the clock over the milkshake machine, filled the customer’s glass of water, and rushed to the restroom. When she returned, Horatio placed a large basket of fries and trout salad with dill lemon dressing in the passthrough.
“Order up!”
She carried the pile of steaming food over to the lunch counter.
Horatio poked his head through the passthrough. “Hey, I’m stepping out back for a smoke. Need anything else?”
“No, we’re good.” She shot him a smile before glancing at the clock again.
After she heard the back door close, Ella lounged behind the lunch counter next to the soda fountain, sipping coffee and eyeing the display of donuts.
The smell of baking bread wafted in from the kitchen and filled the diner. She pulled the mouth-watering aroma into her lungs, paused, and sniffed. She straightened and sniffed again, her mouth turning down at the corners. Another scent rode along with the bread.
Ella burst into the kitchen and tore open the oven door so hard it nearly broke off its hinges. A dark brown lump sat in the loaf pan.
“No, no, no!” She started to reach for it then realized the error in doing so.
Frantically searching for potholders, she settled on Horatio’s stained towel. After sliding out the pan, she dropped it on top of the stove with a clatter.
Ella grabbed at the roots of her hair. How could this happen? She looked over at the clock on the kitchen wall. It had been twenty-four minutes since Wink left! The bread had been in the oven fourteen minutes too long. But how?
Ducking back into the diner, she peered up at the clock. The hands were frozen in the same position since the last time she’d checked. On closer inspection, she realized that the smaller hand was three hours off.
Ella squeezed her eyes shut and silently chided herself for such a careless mistake. She’d been so focused on the minute hand. Hopefully, Wink didn’t have her heart set on freshly baked bread. Maybe she could turn the rocky loaf into croutons or stuffing.
Or a boat anchor.
Back in the kitchen, she turned the oven off and slumped against the counter just as Horatio stepped in through the back door.
He whistled. “It’s gonna be another hot one.”
“That clock in the diner doesn’t work.”
“Sì, It’s been out for months. The town’s battery supply is low. Need more rechargeable ones, I guess. Most people have switched back to the, what do you call it? Windups? The council’s been talking about sending a couple of volunteers to make a supply run next time we’re near a town.” His eyes snagged on the bread, his mouth forming a tight “O.”
When Grandma Wink returned a couple hours later, Ella broke the news gently, explaining how the mistake happened. The older woman laughed, her freshly styled hair brushing over her collarbone like a blue waterfall.
“Oh, honey. I’ve burned tons of loaves before. Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. I should probably just take that clock down. Only reason I haven’t so far is ‘cause it bugs Flo so much.” She poked the rock-hard bread, her chuckles turning into peals of laughter.
“Couldn’t you smell it?”
“Well, yeah. After it started burning.”
Wink wiped her eyes. “I could use a new doorstop. Or paperweight.”
“Glad I could help, then.”
The afternoon wore on, with another rush of customers trying to beat the heat with soda floats and shakes. Ella darted about, doing her best not to spill anything, while Wink ran the register.
By the time the steady stream became a trickle, Ella’s shift had finished. She dragged her feet over to the coffee maker and poured a stale cup of mud. Then, she settled into the same booth Will had sat in the day they’d met.
Overall, her first day had been a success—burnt bread notwithstanding. Most of the people she’d met had been friendly, welcoming her to Keystone, with only a few giving her the stink eye.
One grunted and growled, but she was pretty sure he was a Neanderthal. Either that or a really hairy person with abnormal facial features and an aversion to clothing.
She stretched her tired feet across the booth to the other seat and released an audible sigh. A warm slice of fresh banana bread sat in front of her, the butter making a small lake in the center.
She’d just popped in the first bite of gooeyness when the front door burst in with such force it knocked a picture off the wall.
“William Whitehall, what on earth?!” Wink scrambled around the counter, throwing the cleaning towel she’d been working back and forth over the surface across her shoulder.
Ella craned her head around. Will’s pale face scanned the diner, ignoring Wink. The moment he spotted Ella, he made a beeline for her. “Did you hear?”
“What?” she said around a mouthful of banana bread. She swallowed the barely chewed morsel, the glob catching in her throat.
“Chapman released Six.”
CHAPTER 20
“WHAT?” ELLA STARED at the handsome inventor, trying to process what he’d just said.
Wink shoved a basket of fries in front of a customer and joined them. “Chapman let Six go? After what he did to Ella?”
“Yes. That badge said all he could charge him with was the illegal still.”
Ella gaped at him. “But he was going to kill me.”
“We know that. And I’m sure Chapman believes us, but he didn’t have any evidence to prove it.”
“Alright, but what about Kay? He had the motive to kill her.”
Will deflated, and he seemed to shrink in stature. He pulled off the fedora he was wearing and ran his hands through his hair. “Six has an alibi for the hours leading up to Kay’s death. The sheriff had locked him up for something else.”
“But I saw him in front of the diner that day.”
“Yeah, but Chapman had just released him. He came straight here from the sheriff’s office. Pauline found nothing in the diner to account for poisoning.”
Wink motioned them to keep their voices down in case the two patrons at the counter grew curious ears. “Meaning…”
Ella picked at her banana bread, no longer hungry. “Meaning Kay was poisoned before coming to work. Meaning Six is covered for the murder.”
“Well, one thing’s for sure,” Wink said, placing her hands on her hips, her pink uniform swaying. “You’re not going anywhere alone. You’ve got a target on your back, and Six has a bullet with your name on it.”
“Agreed,” Will said.
Ella opened her mouth to argue, thinking about her plans to poke around the outlaw’s homestead. But now that he was out of the holding cell, she’d have to come up with a new plan.
“Sorry, El. I just thought you should know.”
A new feeling besides panic fluttered in the pit of her stomach at the nickname he’d just given her. “Thank’s for the heads up.”
He touched the brim of his hat. “I have to go. Chapman gave me permission to go to Kay’s place and pack up some of her belongings.”
“How come her father isn’t doing it?”
Will exchanged a glance with Wink before he explained, “Doesn’t want any of her things.”
Ella’s mouth puckered as if she’d just sucked a lemon. She couldn’t imagine the pain a parent experienced going through the belongings of their only, recently deceased child.
On the other hand, it seemed strange that the mayor didn’t want any of it. Will’s expression said he didn’t look forward to the task either.
“I’ll come with you,” she offered.
Wink stood aside and slightly behind Will, so he couldn’t see her. She nodded enthusiastically behind his back. Ella ignored her.
“I’d love the company, thanks.”
He held the front door open and waited while Ella slid out of the booth, her uniform tugging at an awkward angle. “Mind if I change first?”
“Of course.”
While Ella walked into the kitchen, her blue-haired friend stepped on her heels. “Great thinking, dear. Let him get to know you better.”
“Wink, I’m going for moral support.”
“Sure, sure. And I’m a vampire who’s able to come out during the day.”
Ella feigned surprise. “You are? But you hide it so well.”
“You know, if you wanted to run home and change first…”
“And your skin. That explains why it’s so pale.”
“Okay, okay.” Wink held her hands up in surrender. “Nothing more about Will. You done?”
Ella grabbed one of the cloves of garlic beside the soup pot. With her other hand, she covered her neck and backed into the bathroom to change.
Ella hopped up a meandering path of stepping stones that led to a small cottage overlooking the lake. The heart of Keystone Village sat along the shoreline across the way, sprawled out and sleeping in the heat of the day.
A wall of pine and spruce trees towered behind the house. The trail entrance into the woods she’d followed Six down sat a half-mile away on her right. No wonder Kay and Jimmy met there. It was both near her house and private.
Ella’s shoes slapped over the stones as she made for the cute red door, but Will veered off around the side of the structure.
“She was renting the studio upstairs.”
Ella followed him around the corner to a set of stairs. What she had neglected to tell Wink earlier was a secondary reason for accompanying the inventor. It gave her a good excuse to poke around Kay’s apartment.
It had been broken into just before her death, and Ella found it hard to believe the two tragedies were unrelated. If there was anything inside that could throw suspicion off Rose, Ella would find it.
At the top of the stairs, Will slid a key from his pocket and turned it in the doorknob. The door creaked open into a quaint studio, complete with a kitchen nook just big enough to turn around in. Windows on either side overlooked the forest and the lake.
Ordinarily, the space was probably cozy. However, as it stood, the twin bed sat shoved against a corner at an odd angle, the rug flipped over, and papers littered the floor. In that sense, it reminded Ella of her own apartment in Oregon, only she didn’t have the excuse of a recent break-in.