A Burned Out Baker: Classic Diner Mystery #7 (The Classic Diner Mysteries)

by Beck, Jessica

  “And yet you light up a cigarette every day,” I said.

  “That I can’t help. It’s an addiction. You know who you should really be talking to?”

  “Who’s that?” I asked.

  “Susan Proctor. She’s the one Barry dumped me for. That chick is certifiably insane if you ask me. She could have easily gotten upset with Barry and lit him up.”

  “What makes you think she’s crazy?” Moose asked.

  “Have you seen where she lives? It’s nothing but a hole in the ground. Literally.” Sandy glanced at her watch, and then she said, “Listen, I’m sorry about Barry, but there’s nothing else to say. I need to go now; I’ve got to go to work or they will dock my pay, as bad as it is.”

  We started to follow her into the diner when Moose’s cell phone rang. Sandy went ahead, and I started to follow her myself when Moose grabbed my arm. I stayed behind, and I heard him say, “Fine. We’ll be there shortly.”

  “What was that all about?” I asked Moose.

  “It was your husband.”

  “What’s wrong with Greg?” I asked, worried that somehow this mess had come back on him already.

  “Nothing. Someone is at the diner, and she wants to talk to us right now.”

  “Is it Susan Proctor?” I asked.

  “No, though it would probably be better for me if it were. Holly is waiting for us there. She told Greg that she had something important to tell us.”

  “Martha must be pleased to have her there,” I said sarcastically. Judge Holly Dixon was an old friend of my grandfather’s, and though he swore nothing had ever happened between them, she was the one woman who could make my grandmother jealous. I had a hunch that she had a reason to feel that way, not that Moose would ever be unfaithful to Martha, but he hadn’t been married to her his entire life, though he often claimed that it felt that way. All I knew was that there was some kind of history between the judge and my grandfather, and I wasn’t really sure that I wanted to know anything more than that.

  “We both know better than that,” Moose said. The man was so distracted by the judge’s appearance that he’d missed my sarcasm, a sure sign that her presence at our diner had thrown him off. “We need to get back to the diner right now.”

  “What about Sandy?” I asked.

  “We can discuss her on the way, but I’m not sure what else there is to say. It doesn’t matter right now, anyway; this can’t wait.”

  “Fine. Let’s go then.”

  It appeared that I’d have to have my pie later. I agreed with Moose, though. This had to be important, or else the judge wouldn’t have come to The Charming Moose.

  As my grandfather drove us back to Jasper Fork, I asked, “Do you believe Sandy’s telling us the truth?”

  “Which part of her story are you talking about?” he asked. “The part about the fire from her childhood sounds suspiciously convenient as an explanation for why she couldn’t have done it.”

  “I might give it a little more credence if she hadn’t been smoking when we got there.”

  “You don’t buy her aversion to fire, do you?”

  “Moose, a flame is a flame, and if something happened when she was a kid, surely it would have scarred her enough to keep her from ever having a lighter in her life again.”

  “Who knows? Maybe it’s true. Then again, she could be a pyromaniac for all we know.”

  “She very well may be,” I said. “I want to check out her story, and I’d also like to talk to Luke Yates about her.”

  “What do you want to ask Luke?” Moose asked.

  “I want to see if there have been any other suspicious fires surrounding Sandy’s life in the past,” I said. “I have a hunch this might be part of a pattern.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Moose said, clearly distracted. He wasn’t watching the road close enough as his front left tire drifted off the pavement into the gravel. “Sorry about that,” he said as he overcorrected and got back on the road.

  “Would you like me to drive?” I asked him.

  “No, I’m fine,” Moose said.

  “Then pay closer attention, okay? I want to get there just as fast as you do, but I’d prefer to make it all in one piece.”

  “You’re right. I’ll be more careful.”

  I glanced over at the truck’s speedometer and saw that he’d backed off a little on his previous pace. Moose was actually within ten miles of the posted speed limit, something I considered amazing given his agitated state, and his clear desire to get back to the diner as fast as humanly possible.

  Miraculously, we got back to The Charming Moose safe and sound. My grandfather pulled up in front, a spot we almost always reserved for our customers, but it was clear that he was in no mood to wait a second longer than he had to.

  Martha wasn’t up front at her station when we got there, never a good sign.

  Instead, Ellen was working the register.

  “Where’s Martha?” I asked.

  Ellen glanced over at Judge Dixon, who was currently nursing a cup of coffee, as she said, “She’s on break.”

  “Is she ever planning to come back?” I asked softly.

  “Not as long as the judge is sitting over there,” Ellen said. It was clear whose side our waitress was on in the war between my grandmother and the judge.

  “Thanks for taking the register, then,” I said as I hurried to catch up with Moose, who had already joined the judge at her table.

  “What did I miss?” I asked as joined them.

  “Holly was just about to tell me why she came by,” Moose said as he kept glancing back toward the kitchen. He was in hot water, and what’s more, he knew it, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.

  “I’m sorry to just drop in, but I thought this was important,” she said.

  “And we appreciate it,” Moose said. “What’s going on?”

  “I was at the police station taking care of some unrelated business when I happened to overhear the sheriff say something.”

  I stopped her. “Hang on, Judge. You’re not about to violate any kind of ethics rule or anything, are you? There’s no reason for you to get yourself into trouble on our account.”

  The judge reached over and patted my hand as her face softened. “Thank you for thinking of me, but this is fine. It’s not privileged at all.”

  I hoped that Martha hadn’t seen the familiar touch, as much as I appreciated the gesture. I liked Judge Dixon, but I loved my grandmother, and if I ever had to choose between the two women, there was no doubt in my mind that I was on Team Martha all the way.

  “What did he say, Holly?” Moose asked.

  The judge took a deep breath, and then she said, “The sheriff is threatening to bring in outside help if he can’t wrap this case up in forty-eight hours. There’s some hotshot state police inspector who is supposed to be really good. He’s based in Raleigh, but I understand that he spends quite a bit of his free time over in April Springs.”

  “I’ve never known the sheriff to bring in reinforcements before,” Moose said, clearly surprised by the news. “What’s different about this murder that he needs outside help?”

  “That’s the thing. You two have caught more killers lately than he has, and I think he’s worried you’re going to run against him for sheriff in the next election, Moose.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous,” my grandfather said. “If he thought that, why didn’t he say anything to me about it? We spoke not two hours ago.”

  “This just happened half an hour ago, so it’s all brand new,” the judge said. “Someone must have put a bug in his ear about you, and he’s starting to wonder why you two are digging into murder again.”

  “The murder victim threatened to take our diner away from us last night not three feet from where we’re sitting right now. Doesn’t he think that gives us both reason enough to do something about catching whoever killed him?”

  “Easy, Moose,” she said in a calming voice. “I’m not accusing you of an
ything. I’m just telling you what’s going on so you’ll be aware of it.”

  “I appreciate that,” Moose said. “Do you know who’s behind this?”

  “He’s on the town council,” she said with a nod. “Do I really have to say his name?”

  “It’s Kenny Starnes, isn’t it?” Moose asked. “Don’t bother confirming it. It all makes perfect sense. That man is a blight on this town, and I wish that he’d never been elected.”

  I knew that Kenny Starnes and my grandfather had been in one argument or another for the last thirty years, and I doubted either man could remember what their original disagreement had been about. All I knew was that they intensely disliked each other, and I prayed for the councilman’s safety every day. If anything ever happened to him, Moose would be the first suspect on everyone’s list, including the sheriff’s.

  “Anyway, I just thought you should know,” the judge said, and then she stood. As we joined her, she asked me, “What do I owe you?”

  “It’s on the house,” I said. “Thanks for stopping by.”

  “Thank you, Victoria.” The judge turned to Moose, and she was clearly about to say something. At the last second she must have changed her mind, because she left without another word.

  I knew why a second later when my grandmother came out of the kitchen.

  Much to his credit, instead of trying to run away, my grandfather headed straight toward her. As they spoke, I wondered how this new development would impact our case. If the sheriff was going to bring in outside talent, we didn’t have much time. I doubted that a state police inspector would grant us the latitude that the sheriff had in the past. In fact, I wondered if we’d get any more preferential treatment ever again.

  I don’t know what Moose said to Martha, but he came over to me a minute later.

  “So how are things on the home front?” I asked him.

  “We’re getting there,” he said.

  “Are you ready to tackle Susan Proctor now?” I asked him. “I don’t have to remind you that time is of the essence.”

  “I know it is, but there’s something else we have to do first, something even more important than our investigation.”

  I was eager to hear what that might be. “What’s that?” I asked him.

  “We need to speak to the sheriff and clear this up before things get any uglier than they are right now. Any objections to that plan?”

  “Not a one,” I said. “Let’s go see if we can find Sheriff Croft and straighten this mess out.”

  Chapter 7

  “Sheriff, we need to talk,” Moose said after we’d walked into the police station. The sheriff was standing by the front door, and it was clear that he was on his way out.

  “I don’t have time to chat, Moose,” the sheriff said as he tried to brush past us.

  “Is it an emergency? Because if it’s not, this is important. I wouldn’t bother you otherwise.” Moose hadn’t budged, and I doubted that many men in the county would have had the daring to block our sheriff’s way when he was intent on getting past.

  The sheriff stared hard at Moose for a few seconds, and I didn’t like the expression on his face at all. Finally, he said, “Outside. You can have one minute and one minute only, so you’d better make every second of it count.”

  We all walked outside together, and though I hadn’t been invited to join this particular conversation, there was no way that I was going to miss it, either.

  “The clock’s ticking,” the sheriff said once we were all outside.

  “Edgar, I don’t want your job.”

  Sheriff Croft looked hard at Moose again after my grandfather spoke. I knew that the sheriff wasn’t all that used to being called by his first name, particularly when he was in uniform, and I was just as certain that my grandfather had done it on purpose to get his attention.

  “That’s not what I heard,” the sheriff said. “Either way, it doesn’t matter to me. Moose, you’re free to do whatever you want to.”

  “Are you really going to listen to Kenny Starnes?” Moose asked him. “We both know that the man has had it in for me for what feels like a hundred years.”

  The sheriff shrugged. “The thing is, everything he said made perfect sense. Why else would you and Victoria keep digging into the murders that happen around here? It’s clear that you don’t have any faith in my ability to solve them, so it’s the next logical step for you to run for sheriff yourself.”

  “It might be if I ever had the slightest interest in holding down another job, any job. The last thing I want to do is to run for a political office. It would be bad enough campaigning, but what if the worst-case scenario happened and I actually won? Do you think for one second that I’d want any part of your job?”

  “Then why do you keep investigating murders?” the sheriff asked.

  “Sheriff, my granddaughter and I have to get involved. If we don’t, folks around here are going to assume that one of us killed Barry Jackson. Who knows? Maybe they think that we did it together. I don’t have a clue. All I do know is that Victoria and I stay away from any crime that doesn’t directly involve one of us, or a member of our family. Everyone knows that Barry threatened to take away The Charming Moose the night before he died, and worse yet, I threatened him. One of the EMTs who overheard us has been happy to spread that little tidbit around town. My granddaughter and I just want to clear our names.”

  “Then why don’t you let me handle the case?”

  It was a fair point, but I knew why we dug in ourselves. I was about to explain when I thought better of it and kept my mouth shut.

  After all, this was Moose’s battle, not mine.

  “Sheriff, people will tell us things that they’d never dare mention to you, and you know it,” Moose said. “Besides, between my granddaughter and me, we’ve got ties to every part of this community, not just the law-abiding folks.”

  “Are you saying that you knowingly associate with riffraff?” the sheriff asked with the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

  “You’ve been in our diner,” Moose said amiably. “As long as our customers pay for their meals and don’t make trouble, we don’t turn anyone away. Over the years, that’s gotten us connections in all sorts of places that you might not have access to yourself in your official capacity.” Moose put a hand on the sheriff’s shoulder as he added, “I swear to you, I’m not running, okay?”

  The sheriff seemed to think about it for a full ten seconds before he spoke, and then finally, he nodded. “Okay. Thanks for clearing that up. Sorry if I jumped to the wrong conclusions.”

  “With Kenny whispering in your ear, how could you not? Are we still good?”

  “We are,” the sheriff said.

  “Does that mean that you’re not bringing in reinforcements from the state police?” Moose asked him.

  “How did you hear about that?” he asked pointedly.

  “Hey, it’s a small town. Word gets around. So, was it just an idle threat?”

  Sheriff Croft frowned. “No, it’s still happening.”

  “Between the three of us, we can solve this case without any help from the outside,” Moose said.

  “Maybe so, but I need to show folks that I can act decisively, and that’s what I’m going to do. If nobody’s solved this case within forty-eight hours, I’m calling in the big guns. Now, if you two will excuse me, I’ve got to run.” He started to leave, and then he stopped and looked at me for a second. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. See you later, Victoria.”

  “Good-bye,” I said.

  He grinned. “The real reason I spoke to you was that I just wanted to be sure that you hadn’t lost the power of speech. You never said a word during that entire conversation.”

  “Hey, I don’t have to talk all of the time,” I said in mock protest.

  Both the sheriff and my grandfather laughed, and instead of snapping at both of them, I joined right in. After all, I couldn’t blame the sheriff for being surprised by the fact that I had remained si
lent.

  In all honesty, it had kind of surprised me myself.

  After the sheriff drove off, my grandfather let out a loud breath of air. “That was a close call. If I hadn’t convinced him of my true intentions, it could have made the rest of our investigation a whole lot tougher than it had to be.”

  “You know, all in all, it’s really not that crazy an idea,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “You running for sheriff,” I said.

  Moose looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. “Victoria, I meant what I said. I don’t have the slightest interest in that job.”

  “Why not? There aren’t any requirements that you be a law enforcement officer to run for sheriff. You know tons of people, so name recognition wouldn’t be a problem, and besides, you’re a crack investigator. This county could do a whole lot worse than having you in the job.”

  “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I enjoy being retired too much to ever go to work again.”

  “I’m just saying,” I said.

  “Think about it, Victoria. Even if I wanted the job, which I don’t, how do you think your grandmother would feel about me running for it?”

  I laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t even think about that. I doubt that Martha would be too pleased with it.”

  “That’s the understatement of the decade,” Moose said. “Now, where were we before we were interrupted?”

  “We were about to go talk to Susan Proctor,” I said.

  “Then let’s go pay her a visit at home,” Moose said as we headed back to his truck. “Truthfully, I wouldn’t mind getting another look at that crazy house of hers.”

  “If she even lets us in,” I said.

  “Why wouldn’t she?”

  “Moose, she’s probably in mourning. After all, she just lost her boyfriend.”

  “I’ll be sensitive,” Moose said as he started driving, and I didn’t doubt for one second that he could. My grandfather showed a gruff exterior to the world most of the time, but for those who really knew him, he had a soft side that was startling in its contrast to his public persona.