Murder, Served Simply

by Isabella Alan

  “Hey, what about my order?” a man in the next booth asked. “I was here first.”

  “Oh hush,” Linda said. “I will get back to you in a minute.”

  The man grunted but didn’t bother to argue. If you wanted to eat at the Double Dime, you did what Linda said.

  “Who do you have with you?” Linda peered eagerly over the table.

  “Mom, Dad, this is Linda O’Neal. Linda, these are my parents, Kent and Daphne Braddock.”

  My mother gave her a tight smile. “How do you do?”

  “Can’t complain. I can’t tell you how much we like Angie in this county. She’s a breath of fresh air. She’s smart as a whip too. She’s solved two m—”

  I kicked Linda, stopping her in the nick of time from uttering the “m” word, “murder.”

  “Ouch.” Linda rubbed her shin.

  “Sorry—foot slipped.” I smiled sweetly. “And this is our family friend, Ryan.”

  Ryan flinched when I introduced him as a family friend.

  “Ryan?” Linda asked. “Is this the Ryan?”

  Ryan’s smooth brow wrinkled. “I seem to be getting that a lot in this town.”

  Linda straightened up to her full height. “Well, you go and break our Angie’s heart, that’s what you are going to get. I have half a mind to kick you out on the street this very second.”

  “Linda,” I said, “Ryan is here for Christmas, visiting with my family as a friend. There is no reason to chase him out of the diner.”

  “Well, I’m going to burn his meal,” she muttered only loud enough for me to hear.

  As much as I would enjoy that in the moment, I hoped she was just kidding.

  Linda passed menus all around. “I’ll give you a minute to look it over, and then I’ll come back for your order.”

  “How was your sightseeing?” I asked.

  “It was nice to see the old haunts,” my father said.

  “I wish you would have come with us, Angie. We are only here for a short while,” my mother complained.

  “I told you I would be working during part of your stay.” At least I had been for part of the time. “And the trustees just scheduled a meeting that I have to go to later this evening.”

  “Angie, you are just like your father. You work too hard. All you talk about is work. It’s Christmas.” Tears gathered in my mother’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. But I have a great idea to make up for today. I don’t have a Christmas tree at my house.”

  “I know,” my mother said. “It’s quite depressing.”

  “So let’s change that. Let’s go find a Christmas tree tonight. Together.”

  “All of us?” Dad asked, nodding to Ryan.

  “Sure,” I squeaked. I hadn’t thought to include Ryan, but it wouldn’t be fair to exclude him. “I know just the farm to go to. There’s an Amish place where we can purchase the tree. It’s called Shetler Tree Farm, and it’s in Berlin.”

  “We’ve never had a real Christmas tree before,” Dad said, warming to the idea. “And it would help us feel more in the Christmas spirit.”

  I knew I would regret what I said next, but I said it anyway. “We can go right after we eat and pick out the tree, and since I don’t have any Christmas decorations, Mom, I will put you in charge of décor for both the house and tree.”

  My mother sat up straighter in her seat. “Really? You would let me do that? You never let me touch your apartment back in Dallas, even though I offered on numerous occasions.”

  “I do have to work tomorrow, and this will give you something to do while I’m gone. And you’re right; the house does need a little TLC.”

  Mom clapped her hands. “I will start making a list as soon as we get back to the house.”

  Yep. I was going to regret this. If I really hated the decorating choices that my mother made, I could just change them when she was back in Dallas. I couldn’t back out now; this was the happiest that I had seen her since she arrived in Ohio.

  “What kind of work do you have to do tomorrow?” Ryan asked. “I’m not much for decorating, but maybe I can help at the shop.”

  I blinked. “I’m working on new flyers for January quilting classes and quilting pattern designs that can be printed by class members from their computers. It’s nice to be able to use my graphic design background.”

  “I should say so. Since you threw away your career,” Mom said.

  Okay, maybe my suggestion for the tree farm visit hadn’t fully made up for my MIA status today.

  I ignored my mother’s comment. “It shouldn’t take me very long, and I will be minding the shop. You would be bored. I don’t expect much business.”

  “I could keep you company,” Ryan said.

  “Mattie will be there most of the day,” I said, hoping that he would take the hint.

  Ryan opened his mouth to say something, but fortunately Linda returned with our drinks. As she set them on the table she asked, “Are you ready to order?”

  Ryan appeared concerned as he perused the menu. Nothing on it was within his meal allotment of calories.

  Dad rubbed his hands together. “I’ll have the left side of the menu, please. If that goes well, I will finish off with the right.”

  Linda grinned. “You’re my kind of diner.”

  “Kent, don’t tease the woman. Why don’t you have the chicken breast, hold the gravy, and instead of potatoes, can he have the vegetable of the day?”

  “That would be green beans.”

  “Plain green beans?”

  “With ham.” Linda knocked the eraser end of her pencil on her order pad. “Why would anyone bother to eat plain green beans?”

  I had spent a good portion of my childhood asking the same question.

  Mom sighed. “All right. Green beans with ham will have to do. Kent, you can pick the pieces of ham out.”

  Dad frowned. “Daphne, I am perfectly capable of ordering my own meal.”

  She opened her mouth to protest.

  “I’ll have the chicken potpie with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy.” Dad handed Linda his menu.

  Linda took his menu.

  “Kent, that’s not part of your diet.”

  “You said it yourself. It’s Christmas. I deserve to indulge. You will get to redecorate Angie’s house, and I will get to eat something that doesn’t taste like cardboard. Everyone wins.”

  My mother shook her head. “Well, I will have what I previously ordered for my husband.”

  Ryan spoke up. “I will have the same that Mrs. Braddock is having.”

  I handed Linda my menu. “BLT with fries and extra bacon.”

  Dad reached over the table and gave me a high five. The diet-war battle lines were drawn.

  “Well,” Mom said, “I see that we have two very different views when it comes to food. I do hope our taste won’t be that different as I work on your house, Angie.”

  I knew it was a given. “Just leave the kitchen alone. That’s all I ask. I love that kitchen.”

  Mom wrinkled her nose. “With all those outdated appliances.”

  “I appreciate their charm. As for the food, it is Christmas,” I said. “We will all eat better after the holidays.”

  “Or at least aspire to,” Dad said with a chuckle.

  “Were you at the shop all day?” Ryan asked.

  “Actually, most of the day I was at the hotel because of the quilt show,” I said quickly. I didn’t want Ryan or my parents to know about my dabbling into amateur-sleuth territory. All three of them knew about my run-in with the law during the summer. A dead body had been found in the stockroom of my quilt shop, so my involvement in that investigation had been impossible to keep secret. However, I had been able to avoid telling them everything since then, and I planned to keep it that way.

  “See the s
heriff while you were there?” Ryan asked.

  My head snapped up, and I met Ryan’s gaze. “Why would you ask that?”

  “I assume he would be investigating that poor girl’s death.”

  “Oh, right.” I examined my water glass.

  Linda returned with our food. “Are you talking about Eve Shetler?”

  I nodded.

  Linda set my BLT in front of me. “I heard about that. It’s a real shame. Eve was a sweet girl.”

  “You knew her?”

  “’Course I did. She and her friend used to meet here at least once a week. They always got the pancakes.”

  “Amber Rustle?” I asked.

  “Yep, I think that was her name. It was hard to remember whoever Eve was with because she was such a standout. Even in her plain clothes. I knew she would never stay Amish. I’ve known so many Amish kids in my day. Most of them never stray, but I can always pick out the ones that leave. There’s just something different about how the kids hold themselves.”

  I removed the toothpick from a quarter of my sandwich. “Did you see Eve since she came back?”

  “I did. About a week ago the whole cast came here for dinner. We had to move most of the tables together so they would all have a place to sit, and I even had to turn some regulars away because there wasn’t enough room for them to eat. You can imagine how that went over.”

  “Did you overhear any of their conversations?” I asked.

  “Oh, you know I don’t eavesdrop,” Linda said defensively. “But then again, if someone talks too loud and I can’t help but hear, that’s another thing altogether and not my fault in the least.”

  “Of course it’s not,” I agreed.

  “Can’t say they said anything of importance, but Eve was definitely the belle of the ball. Everything seemed to revolve around her, including the men. The other girl actress, maybe a year or two older, did not like it. Every time she heard Eve speak, she would squish up her face like someone put too much salt in her soup.”

  “Lena?” I asked. “Was that the other girl’s name?”

  “If you say so. I never heard her name said.”

  “Linda,” another customer called, “I need a warm-up.”

  Linda sighed and went to that table.

  “Angie,” Mom hissed after Linda moved to the next table, “why are you asking all those questions about that girl?”

  “Just curious,” I said evasively. “It’s just so tragic. Everyone in the county is curious about it.”

  “I hope you don’t have any silly plans to get involved. That isn’t your place. You have no idea what your father and I went through when you were a murder suspect during the summer. Ryan too.”

  I glanced at Ryan. “Ryan too?”

  He nodded. “I was worried about you. Please, Angie, don’t do anything stupid.”

  I gritted my teeth. Ryan had no claim to tell me what to do. I moved the conversation back to Christmas decorations and hoped that they would all forget about it.

  After the meal, I said, “Y’all can head out and I’ll just grab Oliver.”

  Mom, Dad, and Ryan went through the main door. I found Oliver behind the counter. Linda was giving him little bits of bacon.

  As my parents walked through the door, Linda called, “Come back soon!” She dropped the last bit of bacon on the floor. Oliver gobbled it up before I could grab it from him. Linda yanked on my sleeve when the bell rang their exit. “You never said how good-looking he was.”

  “You were defending my broken heart early. It shouldn’t matter what Ryan looks like.”

  She snorted. “That always matters. What are you going to do?”

  I pulled Oliver’s boots out of my hobo bag and knelt beside my dog. “What do you mean?”

  “Clearly the man came all this way to profess his love to you and whisk you back to Texas.”

  I struggled to get Oliver’s boots onto his feet. “I don’t think—”

  She put her hands on her hips and stared down at me. “So he gave up Christmas with his big fancy family in Texas to visit Amish Country? You can’t be that naïve. In fact, I know you are not. You’re in denial.”

  I knew Linda was right, but I didn’t want to admit it, not even to myself. I stood with Oliver tucked under my arm like a football.

  “What will you do?” She repeated her question.

  “I will deal with it if the conversation comes up,” I said, surprising myself. Why hadn’t I immediately said, “I will say no”? I didn’t want to leave Rolling Brook, my quilting circle, Running Stitch, or Mitchell. Did I?

  I left the diner more confused about my personal life than I was over Eve’s death. Considering I was nowhere near finding the killer, that was a scary thought.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I exited the diner to find my parents and Ryan chatting with Mitchell and his son, Zander, under a streetlight. While we had been inside the Double Dime, the sun had set. Mitchell’s Boston terrier, Tux, was also with them. Oliver yanked at his leash in his excitement to see his best buddy.

  The two dogs touched pushed-in noses and wiggled their stubby tails.

  My mother stared at the dogs as if their interaction told her something she didn’t like. It probably did and revealed much more than I wanted her to know, at least while Ryan was standing just feet away.

  My mother sniffed. “We were just telling the sheriff how sorry we were about the poor girl at the play. It’s terrible when someone so young is lost.”

  “Who do you have with you there?” my father asked.

  “This is my son, Zander. Say hello, Z,” the sheriff said.

  “Hello,” Zander said. He had his father’s trademark blue-green eyes. He’d be a lady-killer, just like his dad. “Angie, I just asked Dad this morning when you were going to come over again. I want to show you the new Lego set I got from my grandma for Christmas. You are the only adult I know who likes to play with Legos.”

  “You play Legos together at the sheriff’s house?” my mom asked. Her question asked much more than that.

  Mitchell tapped his son on the top of his stocking hat. “Z, we will talk about that later.”

  I glanced over at Lady Justice hanging above the courthouse. There was a spotlight at her feet, giving her an eerie glow in the early-evening darkness. Was it me, or was she smirking at this awkward moment? At least someone was enjoying it, other than Tux and Oliver, that is. The dogs touched noses again.

  Mitchell cleared his throat. “How did you all enjoy the Double Dime? It’s our favorite place in the county.”

  “The food was excellent,” Dad said. “I could go for another piece of pecan pie right now.”

  Mom arched her eyebrow. “‘Our’? Who’s ‘our’?”

  She didn’t miss anything.

  “Oh.” Mitchell blushed. “Z’s and mine, of course.”

  My mother pulled her leather gloves farther up her wrists. “What about his mother? Does she like it there?”

  “No way!” Zander hopped from foot to foot. When he moved, the red light on the back of his boots lit up. The dog crouched and watched this with rapt interest. “She always says all I do is eat junk when I’m at my dad’s house. She thinks the Double Dime is a heart attack on a plate.” He said that last part as if quoting his mother.

  My dad grinned and patted his belly. “But what a way to go.”

  “Your dad’s house?” My mother would not be derailed.

  The inquisition was getting out of hand. “Mom, the sheriff is divorced. That’s what you want to know, isn’t it? His ex-wife, Hillary, is a really nice lady.”

  Mitchell grinned. “She likes Angie. Me, not so much.”

  Ryan spoke up for the first time. “Everyone likes Angie.”

  “Yes, they do,” Mitchell said, giving him a level look.

  Okay, it was
time to break this up.

  “Gosh, it’s cold out and getting darker by the second,” I said. “And we want to get to the tree farm before it’s fully dark. So . . .” I trailed off.

  Dad wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “That’s right. Angie, I will take your mom to the house so we can get warmer clothes for the Christmas tree hunt. How about we meet you there?”

  “I’ll just go back with you, Mr. and Mrs. Braddock,” Ryan said. “It will give Angie and the sheriff time to talk.”

  Mom looked ready to protest but shut her mouth quickly when she and Ryan shared a look. What were those two up to? I was probably better off not knowing.

  I kissed both my parents on the cheek. “I’ll see you back at the farm.”

  My mother eyed Ryan before she, my father, and Ryan crossed the street on the green light and disappeared around the side of the courthouse where Dad had parked their rental car.

  Zander knelt in the snow and played with the dogs. I nodded at Mitchell to join me a few feet away.

  “How was dinner with Ryan?” he asked with mischief in his eyes.

  “Tolerable.”

  “I will certainly be glad when he’s gone.”

  “You and me both.”

  “Glad to hear that.” The corner of his mouth perked up. “So when are you coming over to play Legos with Z?”

  “Not until after my parents are gone.” I chewed on my lower lip.

  Mitchell noticed because his cop eyes narrowed. “Do you have something to tell me?”

  I nodded.

  “And does it have to do with Eve Shetler?”

  “Yep.”

  He sighed. “What is it?”

  I told him about the day’s events. I left out the part about asking Jonah to take me to Nahum Shetler’s shack in the woods. That wouldn’t end well, and Mitchell would try to talk both of us out of it or forbid it altogether. I didn’t think he would go as far as throwing us in a jail cell to stop us, but I wasn’t going to chance it.

  “You have been busy,” Mitchell said, not sounding too pleased about it.

  “So what do you think about this business with the threatening notes? I assume you got my call.”

  “I did, and the tip about the notes is credible. We found an unopened one in Eve’s hotel room when we searched it last night. It was right inside the door as Amber described.”