“Oh my goodness.” I’d let my curiosity get me in trouble. Again. And after I had just been bragging to myself about how good I was doing. “Excuse me, y’all. I’ll go get your food and then get back to my tables.”
As I walked away, Harvey muttered, “Hippie troublemaker.” I glanced back at him, but he was stomping away. I remembered what I’d told Elliott on our trip to Jonesboro. It really was odd that suddenly everyone was talking about Bob’s flower-child past.
I found Marco, who looked relieved when I suggested that he trade Bob and Wilma’s table for one of mine.
Later, when I laid the ticket on Bob’s table and turned to go, Bob touched my arm. “Jenna, I know you’re helping your sister out here, but do you think there is any way you could work some at the club?” His humble tone touched my heart. “Lisa’s so upset that she can’t really do much work.”
What was her excuse before? I bit my tongue to keep the words from coming out. Mama always told me you shouldn’t kick a man when he’s down. And Bob was so down, he was practically subterranean.
“To be honest,” Wilma said softly, “Lisa’s so sad and upset that she’s taken to her bed.”
Well, then. If Lisa wasn’t going to be at the club pretending to work, I’d be glad to help out. “Carly just hired a new waitress, so I was planning to cut back on my hours here anyway, Bob.” I stuck my pad in my apron pocket. “I can work if you need me. I’ll stop by tomorrow and pick up a key.”
Carly was just grabbing her keys to head out the door when I finished the noon shift. As we walked out together, I told her about Bob asking me to work.
“Would you mind if I cut my hours back so I can help Bob out?” I glanced over at her. “Be honest.”
“No, of course not. I don’t blame you at all.” She stopped beside her car. “But are you sure you’re not letting your sympathy put you back in a bad position?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I just feel so sorry for them.” I stopped. “You know I’ve really enjoyed working at the diner. More than I ever thought I would.” I opted for total honesty. “But I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d miss the club.”
“I understand. Of course you miss it.”
“By the way. . .” I glanced around to make sure no one could overhear me. “I found something else out today that I need to tell you.”
“What?” She looked around the crowded parking lot.
I lowered my voice. “Remember the other day when Marco was talking about how broke he was and how much it cost for his school?”
She nodded.
“Well, today Bob said that Lisa fired Marco for stealing from the cash register at the club.”
Carly gasped. “I can’t believe that.” She shook her head. “He seems so trustworthy. Are you sure this isn’t another of Lisa’s ‘stories’?”
“I’ll ask Gail if she knows what happened. If anyone would know, she would.”
“Let me know what she says.”
*****
Dave , the personal trainer and weight room manager, was working the desk when I walked into the health club. When he said Gail didn’t come in until three, I headed back to the pool room. After some relaxing laps, I was about to head for the sauna, when the steamed-up glass doors opened and Gail walked in.
“Hey, girl, Dave said you’re looking for me.”
“Guilty as charged.” I grabbed a couple of towels and wrapped one around my hair and another around my body. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
She nodded. “Sure. My shift doesn’t start for another ten minutes. What’s on your mind?”
I sat down in a white deck chair and waved her to the one beside it. Déjà vu. Just call me Amelia. I hoped I hadn’t motioned Gail as imperiously as Amelia had me a few days ago.
When we were seated, I smiled at her. “I need to talk to you about Marco.”
Her eyes widened. “Why? What about him?” she asked. She looked so alarmed that I faltered. Had I been wrong about Marco?
“Bob mentioned that he was fired from the club for stealing. Is that right?”
She relaxed in her chair and snorted. “That’s the excuse Lisa gave. But it isn’t true.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Not to speak ill of the dead or anything, but J.D. was a jerk. And Lisa just followed him around like a puppy dog. I know it made Bob sick to watch them.”
“What do you mean? I thought Bob liked him.”
“Ha. No way. Bob couldn’t stand him. Actually, that’s what started the whole thing with Marco. I heard Bob tell Lisa that since membership enrollment was down, we’d have to let someone go.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “When you left, so did members.”
I felt my cheeks grow hot at the implied praise. No doubt the mass exodus of members was more because of Lisa’s inept management than because of the absence of my amazing management skills. “Go ahead.”
“Anyway, he told her to get rid of one employee. No matter what Bob intended, he should have known she wouldn’t fire her man. So she and J.D. cooked up this little story to get Marco fired.”
“How do you know it isn’t true?”
“I counted the cash in the register that night. Then I checked with the bank to see how much the deposit was. Every penny was deposited.”
“Wow. So do you think they wanted to get rid of Marco specifically? Or just any employee so J.D. could stay on?”
“I think they picked on Marco because they knew he wouldn’t fight them on it. Plus, he hadn’t been here as long as the rest of us. I’m so glad you hired him at the diner.”
“Me, too. So you weren’t a fan of J.D.’s?”
“Nope. He and Bob had some kind of history, too. Did you know that?”
“No. What kind of history?”
“I’m not sure. I just heard him say something about telling Lisa about ‘our shared past.’ I was under the impression that he may have been holding something over Bob’s head.” She shrugged. “You know, threatening Bob. But I can’t imagine why.”
“Me either.” But I was certainly going to find out.
When she left, I retired to the sauna. In the steamy quietness, I sat for a minute and mulled over the life and death of J.D. Finley. When he drove to the Dumpster, did he have death on his mind? Did he have an appointment with a murderer? Or had it been a surprise attack?
I rolled up a towel for a pillow and stretched out on my back on the hot wooden bench. Closing my eyes, I worked my way down my mental suspect list. Even though Lisa owned the murder weapon, why would she have done it? Had J.D. proven hard to shake as a boyfriend? That seemed a flimsy excuse for murder. More in keeping with Lisa’s personality would be if J.D. were the one trying to get out of the relationship. I could see her, in a fit of anger, using her toy gun to take care of the problem. But I couldn’t see her keeping it to herself and playing the innocent so well. She really didn’t act guilty at all. What if someone really had stolen her gun? The more I thought about it, the more likely that seemed.
And who better than her husband, who seemed like a raving maniac when I’d seen him at the club the other day. And he definitely knew where the gun was. Any man who would beat his wife might also kill her lover. How closely were the police looking at Larry?
My eyes fluttered as I suddenly remembered what Gail had just told me about Bob. It sounded like my ex-boss had motives of his own for getting rid of J.D. The only thing that didn’t add up there was him letting his precious princess take the fall.
I sat up and punched my rolled-up towel a couple of times to fluff it again and stretched back out. I wasn’t having much luck with the relaxing part of this little sauna visit.
So many people were acting weird. Debbie, even Carly—not that I thought hers had anything to do with the murder—and of course, Marco. He seemed flustered so much of the time, and often he acted like he didn’t want to leave the diner. I’m not sure what was wrong about that, but it just felt odd.
On the other han
d, he’d hardly had the opportunity to commit murder unless he’d excused himself to go to the bathroom and slipped out back, shot J.D., then slipped in to work without anyone noticing. Which was possible, yes. But probable, no.
And what about motive? He obviously resented J.D. getting him fired, but was the soft-spoken mild-mannered student capable of cold-blooded murder? And framing Lisa for his actions? I didn’t think so. And since I’d had a hard time believing he would steal, and from what Gail said, I was right, I tended to go with my gut feeling about Marco.
*****
*****
Chapter Eleven
Lettin’ the cat out of the bag is a lot easier’n puttin’ it back in.
Closing time. Finally. Carly had sent Debbie and Susan home already, and Marco and I were gathering the last of the garbage. Since the night Marco told Carly how badly he needed hours—and proven how well he could clean the men’s bathroom—he’d helped clean up.
“You know my new rule. I do not, under any circumstances, take out the garbage.” I twisted the tie and set the full bag by the door. “Just let me close this other bag, and you can carry them both out.”
As I pulled the black bag out of the metal can, I noticed a flash of light. It almost looked like a flashlight had come on inside the bag. I donned some heavy cleaning gloves from under the sink and stuck my hand in to fish it out. When I reached for it, I saw it was my cell phone. It must have fallen out of my apron pocket when I was cleaning and landed in one of the garbage cans. I was thankful that when the side buttons get bumped, it lights up. Otherwise I’d have lost it forever. I wiped it off with a paper towel.
“What do you think? Some of these are pretty sturdy.” I showed it to Carly. “Even though it looks like it’s on, I don’t want to mess with it while it’s so nasty. Do you think it will still work after I take it apart and clean it off? I was just learning how to use it.”
“Not to mention all that music Zac said he put on it for you.” Carly hung her dish towel on the towel rack. “It might be worth cleaning it and trying it out.”
Marco picked up the bags and headed out the back door while I took the back off the phone and cleaned the outside of it with a damp paper towel. The inside still looked good as new. I put the battery back in, hit the power button, and was rewarded with the little orange man doing cartwheels across the screen. “Yea! It still works.”
I hit the envelope for text messages to see if Alex had messaged me while I was at work. The first received message said, “Waiting for you out back.”
“How in the world could he be waiting for me out back?” I held up the phone where Carly could read the message. “His plane left this morning.”
“No idea.” She shrugged. It hit us both at the same time. The last time someone was waiting out back. . .Was a murderer waiting for me out back? But why would he warn me?
We both jumped up. “Marco!” we screamed in unison. I ran toward the back door with Carly on my heels. We screeched to a halt at the door and looked at each other. Would we find his body on the ground behind the diner?
I pulled the door open and peeked out. “Marco? Are you okay?” No answer. Carly gave me a little shove.
I held on to her sleeve and dragged her out on the back porch with me. “Marco!” I yelled louder. “Where are you?”
Marco strolled up from the side of the diner. “What is wrong, Jenna? You sound upset.”
“Where were you? I was worried that something may have happened to you.” My voice trembled.
“I went to get my phone out of my van. I forgot it there.” He held up a cell phone. “I was going to call Gail.”
“Oh.” While the two of them were with me, I felt brave enough to look all around the back alley that adjoined the diner parking lot—from the safety of the back porch, of course. As far as I could see, there wasn’t a car or another human in sight.
Marco walked into the diner ahead of us. I tugged on Carly’s sleeve. “I don’t think this is my phone.”
“Why?”
I told her quickly about the phone mix-up with Debbie when we were remodeling. As soon as we got back into the light, I checked the outbox. There were several sent messages. None looked familiar. I occasionally sent texts, but I hadn’t sent these. The most recent ones said, “Did you leave?” and “Why won’t you answer?” There were several that sounded about the same. I hit the button to bring up the address book. Only one number. Very strange. It was listed as “Me.” The same thing the screen had said when I’d used her phone the last time I’d gotten it by mistake—“Connected to Me.”
I waited until we finished up and Marco was in the break room gathering his things, then I showed the phone to Carly. “You think I should take it to her tonight?”
No. She’ll be here tomorrow.” She carefully locked the front door. “Aren’t you working the noon shift?”
I nodded.
“Well, just give it to her then.”
“See you both tomorrow,” Marco called as he left.
Out in the parking lot, I stopped. “Car? Who do you think was waiting?”
“What?” She hit the remote and opened her van door. “See you tomorrow.”
“Wait.” I put out a hand to restrain her. “Who was waiting for Debbie in the back?”
“The only person in the back was—” A look of comprehension flooded her face. “You think J.D. was waiting for Debbie? But why? I mean, he and Lisa were dating.”
“That would explain why he was behind the dumpster. He was cheating on Lisa with Debbie.”
Carly frowned. “That’s so cliché. Your boyfriend cheating with your best friend.”
“Yeah. I hate to think that Debbie was doing that.”
She shrugged. “It happens a lot, though. Now that I think about it, things are cliché because they’re common. And as far as I know, J.D. and Lisa were just dating, not engaged.”
“Yeah, but Lisa doesn’t strike me as one who would take it so well if the man she was dating wanted to date someone else. I wonder if she knew. If she did, would she be mad enough to—” I couldn’t finish the thought. Murder is such an ugly word.
“Didn’t Lisa meet J.D. when she went with Debbie to his grandmother’s funeral? Maybe Debbie felt like he belonged to her and Lisa just horned in. You know, maybe she felt justified. Or maybe there was nothing going on. He could’ve had a perfectly innocent reason to text that to Debbie.”
“Yeah? Name one.”
“Well. . .” She thought a minute then rose to the challenge. “Maybe he and Debbie were planning a surprise party for Lisa. Or maybe he wanted Debbie’s advice about a gift he was buying for Lisa. Or maybe he was going to ask Debbie about Lisa’s husband, or. . .”
“Okay, I get it.” I slapped her arm lightly. “I think we should take this to Debbie tonight and find out what it’s all about.”
“Jen, I’m worn out. I have three kids waiting at home. She can get it tomorrow. The messages will still be there. We can ask her then.”
“We’ll be so busy we won’t have time. Besides, I want to know tonight.”
“That’s you to the bone. I’ve gotta know, and I’ve gotta know now.” She grinned at me, but it was a tired grin. “I’m sorry. I just can’t go tonight.” She yawned widely, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m nearly dead on my feet.”
“No prob. You run on home and get some rest. You look beat.”
As she drove off, I considered my options—wait until tomorrow or run by Debbie’s tonight. Easy choice.
As I pulled into Debbie’s driveway, a light in the living room went off. I parked and walked onto the front porch, clutching the phone. The motion light beside the front door came on, and I jumped then snickered at my nervousness.
I pushed the doorbell button. No response. Since I hadn’t actually heard a chime, I decided the bell might be broken. I knocked. And waited. If I hadn’t seen the light go off as I drove up, I would have thought nobody was home. Instead, I felt sure that Debbie just didn�
��t want to see anyone. I squinted at the bright porch light shining in my face and glanced down at the phone in my hand.
Didn’t want to see anyone?
Or me, in particular?
*****
The conversation at every table was the same. Just one time today I would like to take an order or deliver food to someone who was talking about something besides whether or not the police were going to arrest Lisa. Anything else would do. I’d even settle for hearing about a NASCAR race. Anything but the possibility of poor Lisa going to jail. But that didn’t keep me from listening and trying to sift the truth from gossip.
When Harvey sat Marge and Tiffany at a table in my section, I hurried over to take their order. On the way back to the kitchen, a teen was entertaining his buddies. “I heard she was a serial killer and killed at least five people.”
At another table I heard an older woman talking about “all those drugs they were using.” As far as I knew, Lisa was not a drug user. But what about J.D.? And I didn’t catch everything the woman with her said, but it was something about ‘the sins of the fathers.’ I wondered whose father she was referring to but couldn’t figure out a way to ask her without appearing nosy. Okay, nosier than usual.
A few minutes later, I set Marge’s salad down on the table. As I handed Tiffany her salad, I thought about the fact that she had ordered a salad when she was with Marge instead of the “fat-filled” burger she had ordered when she was with her mother. “I’m really worried about Lisa. Do you know if they’re going to arrest her?”
Marge glanced up at me. “I’ve heard several rumors, Jenna. Hopefully we’ll get a police report in time to put the truth in the paper.” She glanced at Tiffany. “But one of our sources said they found a towel with the victim’s blood on it in her car.”
A bloody towel in Lisa’s car? How had I not found out about this? I tried to cover my dismay. “Did either of you know him? J.D?” I set their salad dressings on the table. “I heard he was from here originally.”
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