A Baked Ham (9 page)

“So, neither one of them has an
alibi, so they both need to stay on our list,” Moose said.
 
“Why don’t we ever get an easy murder to
solve?” my grandfather asked me.

“Because if it was truly simple,
the sheriff could solve it without any help from either one of us.
 
At least we’ve got alibis for some of the
people we’ve talked to so far.”

Moose just shrugged.
 
“Sure, but I’m not sure what they’re
worth.
 
Vern claims that he was at his
office, alone.
 
Amanda was busy, whatever
that means, and I have to assume that she was alone as well, or most likely she
would have told us.
 
Marcus just admitted
that he was alone in Sandra’s dressing room, and evidently Sandra was by
herself in the bathroom.
 
Not a single
one of these alibis can be confirmed by
anyone
.
 
It’s not much, if you ask me.”

“Don’t get discouraged,
Moose.
 
We’re just getting started.”

“I know that, but you have to
admit that it would be nice to be able to eliminate
one
of our suspects early on in our investigation.”

“What fun would that be?” I said
as I looked at my watch.
 
It was nearly
eleven, and I was due back at work soon.
 
“I’m sorry to be a party-pooper, but I need to get back to the
diner.
 
My next shift is getting set to
start.”

“I could always call Martha and
have her cover it for you.”

“Thanks, but I wouldn’t know what
to do or who to talk to, even if we
had
more time.
 
I need some time to think
about what we’ve learned so far, and it wouldn’t hurt you to ponder a little,
either.”

“Sure, that’s fine.
 
I understand.”

My grandfather was giving in way
too easily.
 
What was he up to?
 
“Moose, what are you going to do once I get
back to work?
 
You’re not going to hunt
down any of our other suspects, are you?”

“You’re the one freelancing at
the theater tonight without me,” Moose said.

“That’s because you’ve already
worn out your welcome with Garret Wilkes.
 
Besides, I promised that I’d report to you as soon as I’m finished
tonight.
 
Promise me that you won’t get
yourself into any trouble.”

He grinned that famous grin of
his before he said, “Victoria, don’t make me promise something I might not be
able to deliver.”
 
He stopped in front of
The Charming Moose and said, “Now, hop out or you’re going to be late.”

I didn’t have much choice but to
do what he asked.
 
Besides, Greg was
inside starting his own shift at the diner, and I wanted a chance to say hello
to him before I had to get started on my next five-hour stint working the floor
as a waitress, cashier, and hostess.
 
Chances were, that wouldn’t leave me much time to think about what we’d
learned so far, but that was fine with me.
 
Being busy helping customers would allow my subconscious to keep
churning away on our murder investigation.

At least that was the plan.
 

Chapter 6

“Hey there, stranger,” Greg said
as he wrapped me up in a hug before I could get into the kitchen.
 
“I wasn’t sure you were going to make it back
in time for your shift.”

“You should know me better than
that.
 
I haven’t been late in donkey
years,” I said as I laughed and pushed him away.
 
After I glanced at the clock, I said,
“Shouldn’t you be manning the grill now?”

“I have one minute left,” Greg answered
with a smile.
 
“Besides, your mom won’t
mind if I’m a minute or two late, not if I’m kissing you.”

Sometimes my husband got in a
playful mood, and far be it from me to stop him, but I also didn’t want to have
this exchange in front of our paying customers.
 
“You’re not getting a kiss until we’re in the kitchen.”

“I’ll race you, then,” he said as
he hurried to the back.

He beat me, but not by much.
 
As I went through the door, he kissed me
soundly, and my mother started applauding.
 
Greg was clearly embarrassed by her display, but I took time to curtsy.

“It’s good to see young people in
love,” Mom said.

“I think it’s good to see
anybody
feeling that way,” I countered.

“Agreed.”
 
She turned to Greg as she added, “If you’d
like a little more time to romance my daughter, I’d be glad to keep working the
grill.”

“No, thanks; I’ve got it,” he
said.

“Then I think I’ll go pay a visit
to your father at work.
 
You two have
inspired me,” she said with a grin as she hung her apron up.

“What got into you?” I asked Greg
after Mom was gone and we had the kitchen to ourselves.

“Can’t a man show his wife a
little affection?” Greg asked.

“Of course he can, but he usually
doesn’t, at least not while they’re both at work.”

“What can I say?
 
Murder makes me realize how fleeting our
grasp on life is sometimes, you know?
 
I’d hate to ever lose you, Victoria.”

“I’ll do my best to stay found,
then,” I said as I touched his cheek lightly.

Mom popped her head back in for a
second.
 
“I hate to interrupt, but Ellen
needs you out on the floor, Victoria.”

“Duty calls,” I said, and I
walked her out the door.

After Mom was gone, I smiled at
Ellen and then I got busy working.
 
Mom
had been right.
 
We were having an early
lunch rush, and it was going to take both Ellen
and
me to feed these hungry folks.

I was ringing up a customer later
when our front door opened.
 
As I looked
up, a father somewhere in his late twenties and his five-year-old son walked
into the diner together.
 
That in and of
itself wasn’t all that odd, except for the fact that they were both wearing
bright red super-hero capes.
 
I fought to
hide my grin as I gave my customer his change, and then I grabbed a couple of
menus and headed over to the dynamic duo.
 

Sliding the menus in front of
them, I asked, “Having a good day so far?”

The dad smiled, while his son
grinned from ear to ear.
 

“We’re out fighting crime,” the
boy said.

Dad nodded.
 
“And building shelves in Tommy’s room, too.”

“Whose room?” the little boy
asked his dad.

“Sorry.
 
Super Dude’s secret hideaway.”

The boy poked a thumb toward his
chest, which sported an SD logo that was obviously homemade with love.
 
“That’s me, but don’t tell anybody that my
real name is Tommy.”

I locked my lips with an
imaginary key.
 
“Your secret is safe with
me.”

He lowered his voice as he looked
around and asked solemnly, “Do you have any bad guys here we need to take care
of?”

I looked around as well,
pretending to size up my customers.
 
“No,
at the moment, I believe that we’re safe.”

“If any of them come in, tell us
and we’ll take care of them.
 
Right,
Dad?”

“Right, Super Dude,” Dad
said.
 
“In the meantime, could we have
two grilled cheese sandwiches, two bowls of tomato soup, and two glasses of
milk, please?”

“Coming right up,” I said as I
took their order to Greg directly.

As I walked into the kitchen, my
husband was standing near the pass-through window grinning at me.
 
“Why do I feel so safe all of a sudden?” he
asked me.

“You saw them, too?
 
I think that guy’s father of the year.”

“I do, too.”
 
Greg took the order, and I delivered the
milk.
 
After a few minutes, their order
was ready, and as I reached for the plates, I saw that my husband had done his
best to carve the Super Dude logo into each sandwich.

I winked at him through the
window, and then I delivered everything to the father and son team.
 
“Here you go, specially made just for you
from our kitchen.”

Tommy nodded, and then he saw his
logo emblazoned on his sandwich.
 
He
grabbed his father’s arm and asked excitedly, “Dad, did you see this?
 
How cool is that?”

The father smiled.
 
“It’s very cool.”
 
He looked at me and mouthed the words, ‘Thank
you,’ and I nodded back with a smile.
 

It did my heart good seeing that
kind of bond between father and son.
 

“Fancy seeing you here, Fred,” I
said as the understudy walked into the diner a little later.
 
He was an average man in just about everyway
you could describe him.
 
Average height
and weight, Fred’s hair and eye colors were both brown.
 
I’d known the man most of my life, but if I
had to pick him out of a lineup, I wasn’t sure that I could do it.
 
“I can’t remember the last time I saw you
eating here.”

“I agree. It’s been too long,” he
said.

“How are your car dealerships
going?”

“We’re still in business, so I
can’t complain,” he answered with a grin.
 
I knew that Fred did well for himself, despite the poormouthing.

“What can I get for you?” I asked
him.

“I’d love a glass of your sweet
tea, and if you don’t mind, I could use some information, too,” he said with a
practiced smile.

“Well, we’ve got plenty of tea,
but I’m not sure how much news I’ve got to share with you.
 
What did you have in mind?”

“I was kind of wondering if you’d
had any luck figuring out who killed Benny yet,” he said in a soft voice.

“What makes you think that I’m
looking into that?” I asked.

He laughed richly.
 
“Victoria, your reputation as a crime solver
goes beyond these four walls.
 
The entire
town knows what you and your grandfather do, and since he’s tied in so directly
with this case, you’re bound to be doing a little investigation work on your
own, so don’t bother denying it.”

“It’s true that we might have
asked a question here and there,” I admitted, “but nothing we do is ever
official.
 
To be honest with you, I’m a
little surprised that you’re not more curious about what happened to Benny
yourself.
 
It took you long enough to
come around today.”

“What can I say?
 
I’ve been busy,” the car dealership owner
said as he took a healthy swallow of sweet tea.
 
“I believe that I’m just curious enough about what happened to him.
 
Benny and I weren’t exactly friends, but we
weren’t enemies, either.
 
Why should I
get more involved than I am?”

“Come on.
 
You can’t be surprised by the fact that
you’re probably on everybody’s suspect list.”

“No, I suppose that I expected as
much.
 
Does that include your list as well?”
he asked with the hint of a smile.

“You’d better believe it,” I
said.

The smile faltered a little, and
then Fred said, “Victoria, I’m disappointed in you.”

“Are you?
 
I can’t even begin to list the things
I’m
disappointed in.
 
Fred,
you
own a pair of car dealerships.
 
Let me
ask you something.
 
Where’s my rocket
car?
 
I read science fiction growing
up.
 
Just about everybody led me to
believe that by now I’d be scooting around in a rocket car, so what I want to
know is, where’s mine?”

“It’s not under my area of
responsibility,” he said with a weakened grin.
 
“I’d like to know something, Victoria.
 
Why am I really on your list?
 
I’m
no killer.”

“According to something that I
once read, we all are, if we’re backed far enough into a corner, or if we want
something badly enough.”

Fred said officiously, “There’s
nothing that I want, or anything that I’m afraid of.”