The Calamity Café (7 page)

“I hadn't considered that,” I said.

“The other thing you have to think about, though, is this: are you going to have the heebie-jeebies working in Lou's Joint?”

“I had my reservations when I went in to work this morning,” I began, but he cut in.

“What? Why were you working there? I thought you just said you'd quit.”

“I had given my two weeks' notice. But I wouldn't leave Pete in the lurch. He doesn't have anybody else who can cook for him. If I hadn't taken the morning shift, he'd have had to cook all day.”

“Or close the place like he had some sense,” Billy muttered. “But maybe that's how he's dealing with his grief . . . staying busy.”

“Maybe so. Either way, I feel I can't fully commit to buying or building a business until this black cloud I'm under goes away.”

“Are you calling your being a murder suspect a black cloud?” Billy waved away that thought with the flick of his wrist. “That's ludicrous. I doubt you'll be arrested.”

Doubt?
I gulped. “Gee, thanks. I hope and pray you're right. But I'd like to go ahead and give you a retainer so that you can start either planning my defense or working on securing the paperwork I need for the café.”

“I do feel the need to tell you that since one of the local churches boycotted Lou's Joint, the place hasn't been in the best financial shape.”

“I figured I'd have to do a lot of promotion to let people know the café is something new and different from what they were used to with Lou's Joint. I mean, of course, many of the menu items will remain, but I take pride in my food and I'm looking forward to introducing lots of new dishes too.”

“Sounds great. So let's go ahead and incorporate your business,” he said. “That way, you'll have something to help distract you from Lou Lou's murder investigation until either the police find out who did it or the case grows cold. We can get the necessary permits and licenses in the business's name, and you can start making a list of your expenses even before you decide whether you'll build or buy. Sound good?”

“I guess so.”

“So do you want your business name to be the same as the name of your café?”

“I want to call my café the Down South Café,” I said. I'd been thinking on that for quite a while. I wanted people to think of Southern hospitality, a sweet hometown, and a small but bustling café when they thought of my restaurant.

“All righty. Want to call your business Down South Café, Incorporated?”

“Sure. That works.”

“Good. I'll get Sarah to start on the paperwork. By this time tomorrow, you'll officially be an entrepreneur.”

I
changed into a T-shirt and shorts as soon as I got home. Then I went into the fancy room and cuddled up in the blue chair with my old culinary school textbook. So I was almost an entrepreneur. As I'd mentioned to Billy Hancock, one of the main things I needed to do was establish that Down South Café wasn't simply Lou's Joint under new management . . . even if I wound up building a new restaurant rather than renovating Lou's Joint.

I wanted to continue to serve the foods that the café patrons expected and were accustomed to, but I wanted to give them some more exciting choices as well. My palate had become more sophisticated when I attended culinary school, but I realized that old habits died hard with many Southwest Virginians. Winter Garden residents liked the tried-and-true, and were reluctant to pay for something they might not like. So I'd have to allow
patrons to sample new dishes before I added them to the menu.

Also, I had to ensure that I could not only acquire all the ingredients I needed for a recipe, but that their cost wouldn't make the dish a loss for the café. For example, I loved cipollini onions, but I couldn't find a grocery store in our region that stocked them, and ordering them would be cost-prohibitive.

So as far as breakfast was concerned, I'd serve the typical fare, offer healthier options, such as turkey bacon and gluten-free pancakes, and introduce new dishes that would, hopefully, delight my customers. I made a souffléed cheddar omelet that would nearly melt in your mouth.

At lunch, I'd also have the menu staples patrons would expect, but I'd throw in a few surprises there as well. I felt that most of the patrons would love corn fritters made with cheddar cheese, but they might be reluctant to try fried plantain chips. Of course, they could surprise me. I wanted to give them the opportunity to try a variety of new foods. I truly felt that offering free samples was the key to seeing which items would do well on the menu.

I thumbed through the book until I came to the section on food and kitchen safety. That was something I would certainly need to go over with my staff, especially those—if any—who came with me from Lou's Joint. An image of Lou Lou with that ever-present cigarette dangling from her lip emerged, making me wonder for the umpteenth time what on earth happened just before I got to the café that night. And why had Pete been so willing to let Stan Wheeler pilfer through his mother's office? I understood why he hadn't wanted to go in there
himself, and I was certainly relieved that he hadn't asked me to go—because I'd have definitely turned him down—but why Stan?

*   *   *

R
oger was the first to get to my house. I was surprised. Having his own construction business meant that Roger often worked late hours, especially in the summer. I was also glad he was the first to arrive because I had a lot of questions for him.

He was about five feet nine inches tall and solidly built. He had dark blond hair and brown eyes. I thought he'd been half in love with Jackie since middle school, but he wouldn't ask her out. Maybe one of these days.

I took Roger outside and put him in charge of watching the grill while I set the picnic table.

“I have some questions for you,” I said.

“About what, Flowerpot?” The nickname harkened back to our childhood.

“Running your own business. It's difficult, isn't it?”

“Well, yeah. You learn pretty quickly that when you need a helping hand, it's at the end of your arm.”

I struck a match to the citronella tiki torch I had standing in the yard. “You mean you don't have anyone you can count on to help you?”

“I have plenty of help . . . a lot of great workers. But at the end of the day, the business is my responsibility. There's nobody but me to worry about overhead and expenses and revenue.”

“Is it scary?”

“Heck, yeah, it's scary.” He winked and grinned at me. “But ain't anything worth having a little scary?”

I smiled. “You've got a point. Which actually brings me to another question: when are you going to ask Jackie out?”

“Now, don't start
that
again. Jackie's one of my best friends.” He took the tongs and turned the steaks. “What if we'd go out and end up not getting along—or even worse, have a bad breakup—and never be able to go back to the way we were before? It would ruin things for our whole group.”

“But, Roger, what if you're missing out on the love of your life? And what if Jackie is too?”

“If things are meant to work out between us, they will somehow. Now let's get back to talking about business. Did you ever decide whether you're going to build from the ground up or buy an existing building?”

“Pete's doing his best to get me to buy Lou's Joint, and Billy Hancock says that would be the way to go.”

“Billy's right. And I can make that place look like new.”

“I know you can.” I surveyed the table. All the food was covered and waiting for us to dig in. In addition to the steaks and grilled vegetable kabobs, we were having potato salad, chips and salsa, corn on the cob, key lime pie, and watermelon slices.

“But?” Roger prompted.

“I'm a suspect in Lou Lou's murder. That's one reason I invited all of you over tonight. I have to get this figured out and clear my name.”

He shook his head. “Honey, there's no way anyone could think you capable of murdering Lou Lou.”

“You're wrong about that. I'm guessing I'm pretty high on the suspect list, since I found her body.”

“That's stupid. Why would you kill her and then call
to say you'd found her? If you'd killed her, you'd have done exactly what her murderer did—take off.”

“Amen,” said Jackie, coming around the side of the house in time to hear what Roger had to say. She gave him a one-armed hug. “Long time, no see. Where've you been?”

“I've been working my butt off,” he said.

She took a pointed look at his backside. “Nope, Roger, it's still there.” She gave me the “okay” sign but made sure Roger couldn't see.

Sarah was the last to arrive. She'd brought a banana pudding because she said she didn't feel right not bringing anything. We gladly accepted.

“Where's John?” I asked.

John was Sarah's boyfriend. He was in law school at the Appalachian School of Law.

“Had a late class,” she said. “Besides, I thought that since we were doing the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys thing, it should just be us for dinner.”

Roger turned the steaks again. “What? Do you think John did it?”

“Did what?” she asked.

“Killed Lou Lou.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Roger, I do.”

“Good. Get him to confess, and we'll just enjoy our dinner.”

“I was being sarcastic,” said Sarah.

“I know, but it sounds like a plan. It'll test his legal skills.”

“He hasn't graduated yet.”

Jackie put an end to Roger's and Sarah's mock argument. “Smarty-pants, you got our steaks ready?”

Roger shook his behind in Jackie's direction. “Don't
rush perfection.” Then he called me over to see if the steaks were done.

Once we were seated, I started my spiel. “I went to talk with Billy Hancock today, and he's incorporating my business.”

Cheers and congratulations went up from around the table.

“But before I move forward, I need you guys to help me figure out who might've killed Lou Lou. I have to clear myself of any suspicion in her death,” I continued. “Who's going to want to eat at the Down South Café if the proprietor is suspected of murdering the previous establishment's owner?”

“Hey, maybe Lou Lou ate some of her own food and died from that,” Roger piped up. “I mean, I know they think she was hit on the head, but maybe she hit it on something as she was falling.”

“I seriously doubt that,” I said.

“No?” he asked. “No chance? I mean, Lou Lou's cooking was pretty nasty.”

“That's why the whole town—and all the towns around here—are going to be thrilled with Amy's place,” said Jackie. “What did you say you're calling it again?”

“The Down South Café,” I said. “But let's be serious about Lou Lou for a minute. Do you guys know of anybody who disliked her enough to murder her?”

“I threw my card on the table when you were at the office today,” said Sarah. “My money's on Chris Anne.”

“Granny is bound and determined that it was Pete,” Jackie said. “And that kinda makes sense too. I mean, Lou Lou was holding him back . . . didn't want him to
get married or leave the restaurant business. She wanted to keep him under her thumb.”

“What about you, Roger? Any theories other than that she ate her own food and killed herself?” I asked.

He chewed his steak as he mulled over his answer. “Maybe it was a
Murder on the Orient Express
–type deal, and several people took a swing at her. I can imagine some of the waitresses being up for it, and Aaron asked me last week if I was hiring.”

I nearly choked on my tea. “What did you tell him?”

“The truth—that I have everybody I need right now but would let him know if anything comes open,” said Roger. “Fact is, I could use him while I build or renovate your café.”

“You have a point. But I don't want to lose him. He's a great dishwasher and busboy.”

Even before I'd approached Lou Lou about buying the Joint, I'd asked Roger to renovate the café for me or to build a new one if she wouldn't sell. The summer months were some of the busiest for him, but Roger had carved out that time for me.

Roger smiled. “Already got him hired, huh?”

“Well, no . . . but . . . I thought at least some of the staff would stay in place,” I said.

“I'm only giving you a hard time.”

“What do you think drove Aaron over the edge?” Sarah asked. “From what I've heard, Lou Lou was hateful to all of you.”

“She was,” I said. “I don't know what would've been the last straw for Aaron.”

“I do,” said Jackie. “Lou Lou accused him of stealing last week.”

“When was this?” I asked. “I didn't hear anything about it.”

“It was on Monday or Tuesday,” she said. “I thought it was typical Lou Lou being Lou Lou, but it really upset Aaron. If he could've afforded to, I believe he'd have quit right there on the spot.”

“So put him down on that little list you're making,” Roger said.

“Aaron? No,” I said. “He's a good kid. He's been helping his parents with their bills since his dad got sick. He wouldn't have killed Lou Lou.”

“You said we were here to explore all possibilities. He's a possibility.”

“Roger's right,” said Sarah. “We need to list everybody with a motive.”

“I might as well go ahead and put down half of the population of Winter Garden, then,” I said. “How many people rented from Lou Lou?”

“She has the one trailer out on Huff's Pike that she rented to Stan Wheeler,” said Roger. “And I believe she has a duplex out on Route Fifty-eight.”

“She sold the duplex last year,” said Sarah. “I remember drawing up the paperwork for the closing.”

“So I guess Stan is her only renter,” I said.

“Put him on the list,” said Roger. “He's bad news.”

“Why? What has he done?”

“According to one of my suppliers, he's a drug dealer. Stan apparently dealt to my friend's sister, and he went looking for Stan. I'd say Stan is lucky my friend didn't find him that night.”

“How did I not hear about any of this before now?”

“You were gone, off at school, for quite a while,”
Jackie said. “And then after you came back, you were too busy with work and your nana to get too looped into the gossip.”

“So read us that list,” said Sarah.

“Me, Chris Anne, Pete, Aaron, and Stan.”

Roger leaned across the table toward me. “I think it's that first one.”

“
I'm
the first one,” I protested.

“I know. Did you kill Lou Lou? I mean, what a shocker it would be if you had. We'd all be like . . .” He clutched at his chest.

“Roger, will you stop?” Jackie slapped his arm. “She's worried enough as it is.”

He blew out a breath. “Good gravy! It was a joke! Would one of you
please
bring a boyfriend next time?” he teased. “Or, Amy, invite one of the neighbor men. I don't care if he's a hundred years old. Just get a little more testosterone at the table.”

Jackie rolled her eyes. “I am man. See me beat my chest.”

“Do not make me club you over the head and drag you back to my cave,” he said with a grin.

She leaned back. “Oh, I would
love
to see you try.”

“So what do we do now?” Sarah asked. “How do we find out where these people were, if they have alibis for the time of the murder or whatever? My only dealings with criminals are the ones that have already been caught.”

“Good point,” I said. “What
do
we do now?”

“I'll take Aaron,” said Jackie. “I was there when Lou Lou accused him of stealing, and I can ask him in a roundabout way what he was doing that night. Plus, he's not afraid to talk to me. You intimidate him, Amy. You're too pretty.”

My jaw dropped. “I most certainly am not!”

“You are to him.”

Roger tilted his head. “I can see it. If I hadn't known you since you had crooked teeth and skinned knees, I'd think you were pretty too.”

I gave him a slow, exaggerated blink. “Thank you so much.”

“You're welcome.”

By the time everyone left, we still weren't quite sure what to do other than Jackie's plan to talk with Aaron to see what he'd been doing when Lou Lou was murdered. I needed to figure out what to do on my own. Like Roger had said about his business, at the end of the day, this was my own responsibility.