Murder Ala Mode Page 7

  “And the deep fryer…” Babs said.

  “Okay,” Smoke said. “I get the idea. We can make a few things better, but it should still be the Old School.”

  “Then you better come with us to Mercy’s so you can put in your two cents worth,” Red told him, “or you might end up with some fancy new high-tech Jetsons restaurant serving sushi and vegetarian dishes.”

  That got a rise out of Smoke. “Over my dead body!” he said. “Let’s go!”

  Ruby was my neighbor, and the best friend a person could have. Of course, she had free-run of my house. She had been texting Babs, because she didn’t want to bother me when she learned what happened.

  By the time we got to my place, she had made the left-over prime rib from last night into thinly sliced French dip sandwiches. And I could smell her famous cookies in the oven too.

  “Come here, Mercy,” she said to me with a concerned face as I came through the door. She gave me the tightest hug. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Ruby.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I’m fine. It smells delicious in here.”

  “Ooh!” Red said as the rest of the gang made their way inside. “Something delicious is happening here, I’m pretty sure. We’ll just eat here until the diner is back in action!”

  We gathered around the dining room table, where a steaming platter of beef was waiting for us.

  “Just dunk your beef into the au jus and put it on a slice of fresh bread – it just came out of the oven,” Ruby told us all. She is the perfect hostess and one heck of a cook and baker. “The molasses chocolate-chip cookies will be done by the time you finish your sandwiches!”

  “You baked bread?” I said to her. “And cookies? You really are Superwoman, girl.”

  “Oh, stop. I had already made a batch of dough at home when I found out about the…”

  “The fire.”

  “Mmhm. I’ll go get the lemonade. You sit down now!”

  It turned out to be a great party. We were all laughing and having fun and almost forgot all about the sad state of the old Old School. Deloris took notes, writing down everybody’s ideas and wish lists for the new diner, but when she read it back, it sounded like it was mostly her ideas that made the cut.

  “Jake, what are you doing?” I asked him. He had a large tablet that he brought in with his from his truck, and he had been sketching the whole time we were talking about our ideas.

  He made a few more flourishes with his pencil, and then turned the pad toward me and slid it across the table.

  My jaw dropped. “This is amazing, Jake!”

  On one side of the pad was a bird’s-eye-view floor plan and on the other side was a front elevation of a new diner.

  “What do you think?” he asked me, as the others all leaned in to get a look.

  The talkative crew was almost silent now.

  “So, what I did here,” Jake said, “is…”

  I continued for him. “…is pushed the half the front wall back ten feet, so I can have tables outside, like a sidewalk café. Jake, this is exciting!”

  “Yeah,” he said, “it should fit six tables, or two big picnic tables. And then also, the spot where the girl, you know, from the play. That spot will be outside, so no ghosts will haunt the diner or anything. And just half the front wall is pushed back, on this side here, so the other half of the diner still comes out to the sidewalk like before. And the back wall of the dining room is pushed back about eight feet too, so it will seat more people.”

  “I don’t know,” Smoke said, shaking his head. “What about my kitchen?” He had a concerned look, as he tried to make sense out of the drawing. “It was already too small before, and now if your pushing everything back for the sidewalk café, I won’t have any room at all.”

  Junior tapped the kitchen area on the floor plan. “Looks like it’s even bigger. Dad’s using a lot of the space out back for the kitchen. There’ll still be room for the dumpster and one car, it looks like. But you’ll have a lot more room in the kitchen.”

  “You should be able to have your whole pantry upstairs now, Smoke,” Jake told him.

  “Well, that’ll sure be a lot better than going down into that cellar all the time. My back is getting old.”

  “You’re whole body is getting old,” Red told the 66-year-old cook with a chuckle.

  “But I’ll always be six years younger than you, Red.”

  That got a laugh from the gang.

  “Nope!” Red shot back. “From March till June you’re only five years younger.”

  “Well, it’s August, so…”

  “And my counter…” Deloris started to say.

  “…will be exactly like before, with me and Junior and Red right in the middle of it. It’ll just be back a little farther to accommodate the push-back for the sidewalk café but there’s going to be room for a row of full-size tables between the booths and the counter now.”

  “And…” That was all Babs was able to get out.

  “And your apartment will be like it is now, Babs. Doesn’t look like the fire got up into your floor joists. It will extend out over the sidewalk café. With the kitchen addition, we could even add another bedroom in the back, if it fits in the budget.”

  “What would I do with another bedroom? My place is perfect the way it is!”

  “Brody whispered to me, “Do you really like Jake’s plan? Don’t let them talk you into something if you’re not all for it.”

  “Are you kidding me, Brody? A sidewalk café? Yes! I love it. I love all of it. Don’t you?”

  He smiled. “I do now.”

  “Everyone says he’s a design genius, and, as odd as it may seem, I guess it’s true. It’ll just be like we’re updating and remodeling the old place a little bit.”

  “But it’ll still be the Old School – without any ghosts!” Brody added as Ruby returned from the kitchen with a platter of warm cookies.

  “Okay, gang,” I announced. “Grab your beverages, and let’s retire to the living room for dessert. It’s a little more comfy there.

  We gathered around my big oak coffee table, with the cookies and a pitcher of lemonade in the center. Red, Deloris, Jake, and Babs took the sofa, and I pulled the recliner closer for Smoke. Jake dragged the old stuffed arm chair over, and Brody and I grabbed a couple of the dining room chairs. People were a little quieter now, having released a lot of energy for the new diner, and the reality of the loss of the old diner was beginning to set in too.

  Brody broke the silence. “So, Babs, let’s see what kind of video you got on your phone. Is there anyway to identify the perp?”

  “Ooh,” she said as she pulled out her phone and brought up the video she had taken, “I don’t think so, Brody. The person was all covered up. Here – take a look.”

  I stood and reached across the table to get the phone for Brody. “Don’t worry,” I said as everybody leaned in to try to get a look, “we’ll pass it around. Let’s let the Sheriff take a look first.” And me.

  Brody started the video playing, which began just as the suspect was lighting the gas-soaked rag coming out of what looked like a clear beer bottle with gasoline inside.

  “How long before this did you notice him there, Babs, and what was he doing?”

  “Maybe a few minutes, but I didn’t really pay attention at first, until I realized his face was covered. He started acting really suspicious, looking from side to side and over his shoulder. Then, when he walked right up to the diner and pressed his face to the glass, with a hand on each side of his head, that’s when Alice said I should record what he was doing. He didn’t see us in the coffee shop, I don’t think.”

  “Hmm.” Brody looked at the video intensely, moving it ahead and back several times at one point. “So, what did he do between the time his face was on the glass and where your video starts, where he lights the Molotov cocktail?”

  “I don’t think it was a cocktail, Sheriff,” Babs said. “I think it was more like a fi
re bomb. The fire really began to spread fast when it went through the window and spilled that gas everywhere.”

  “Yes, of course, Babs,” I said. I put my hand on Brody’s shoulder and shook my head before he could tell her that a Molotov cocktail is a fire bomb. “It was a fire bomb. So, did you learn anything from the video, Brody?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Yes, Mercy, I think I did.”

  Chapter Eight

  After the guests all left, Brody wanted me to take a ride with him back to the diner. I didn’t really want to look at the burned ruins of my business again, but it seemed like he really wanted to check something out that might help solve the mysteries.

  “Looks like the fire marshal's closed the front off with big sheets of plywood,” I said. “Darn. I kind of wanted to take a look inside now that the smoke has settled.”

  “There’ll be plenty of time for that,” Brody responded. “Besides, they might not be done looking for evidence, so it’s best we just leave things as they are until we clear it with the Fire Marshall.”

  He walked over to a No Parking Here to Corner sign in front of the vacant storefront next to the diner and pressed his forehead up to the sign, which must have been seven feet high, with the post and sign. Then he held his hand on top of his head and left it touching the sign as he backed away.

  “The suspect must have been about 5’9” or 10”,” he said. “I’m 6’1” and I come up to the middle of the word Corner. In the video the perp came up below the bottom edge of the sign. That’s about three or four inches lower.”

  “I thought you were 6’2”, Sheriff Hayes.” I gave him a ‘fess up’ look.

  Brody shrugged and bounced his head from side to side. “Well, you know, that’s in everyday life. We have to be more accurate with police work.”

  “So, in everyday life, you…”

  “Add an inch. Guilty. Every guy does it.”

  He looked a little worried, like I might get mad at him.

  “But, what’s wrong with 6’1”? It’s…”

  “What’s wrong with 5’8”? You told me you were 5’6” but we both know that’s not, um, accurate.”

  He had me. “I am not 5’8” Brody Hayes! Maybe 5’7” and a half at the most.”

  “Uh huh. And what’s your excuse?”

  “I was just rounding it off to the nearest half a foot. I’m closer to five and a half feet than I am to six feet. So, 5’6” is accurate-ish.”

  He rolled his eyes, and fortunately his phone rang before he was able to respond. He put his hand over the phone’s microphone and whispered, “It’s Elmer, the Fire Marshall.”

  “Uh huh,” he said to Elmer. “Yeah, I see that; we’re here now, outside…Good, that’s good. Anything you can use to identify him? …Mmhm…Great. So is it safe?...Is it okay if we go in the back door and take a look around…Okay, you too, Elmer. Thanks for the call.”

  “So, what did he have to say?

  “He just wanted to let me know that they had finished their basic investigation and secured the premises.”

  “Did they learn anything that might help?”

  “He’ll know more tomorrow, but he said we could go in the back. The place isn’t going to fall down, but he doesn’t want us to actually go into the area where the murder took place and the cocktail landed until the state signs off. It’s still a crime scene. The kitchen and counter area are okay for now.”

  “Well, let’s go!”

  “Hold on,” he said, pulling his phone back out. “Let me check something.”

  I stood next to him and watched as he opened an email, which had the file of the video Babs had taken.

  “I sent myself a copy,” he said as he launched the video.

  “What are you looking for, Brody?”

  “This!” He said, tapping his phone’s screen, and rewinding the video a few frames.

  I looked. “Ooh! He grabbed the sign post with his right hand and kind of swung himself around to build up a little momentum before he threw it.”

  “Yes, he did. And he grabbed the post right about here,” he said, indicating a spot about a foot and a half below the sign. “It’s really rusty, but I’m calling Stan. He can bring the forensics team back to see if they can get any prints or DNA off it.”

  Brody made the call, and then we walked around the bakery to the back door of the diner, and I opened it with my key.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve gone in this way,” I said. “Good thing I have it on the same key as the front door.”

  It was stinky and dirty as we went in, and Brody pulled a small penlight out of his pocket.

  “That Batman utility belt comes in handy,” I teased.

  “You can kid if you want, but I have to always be prepared. I’m an LEO.”

  “I’m not sure what your zodiac sign has to do with this.”

  He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Not a Leo, Mercy, an L-E-O – law enforcement officer.”

  “I knew that.” Not.

  “This is still pretty, toxic in here, Mercy. We won’t stay long. I just wanted you to see that the place is in better shape than it looks from out front. It’s still your Old School Diner.

  The fire had broken through the kitchen wall and did a lot of damage to the cooking equipment and coolers.

  “It looks like the fire suppression system for the stove and grill kicked in and kept the flames from getting to the ceiling,” I said. “That’s good.”

  “But, it looks like it did enough damage where your insurance will have to replace all the old equipment.”

  I nodded as we went through the opening where the swinging doors had been to go into the dining room. The area where our “stage” had been was seriously burnt out. Then I went behind the counter, which still seemed to be intact.

  “This is what I wanted you to see, Mercy,” he said as he rubbed his thumb on the counter top, removing the black soot. “The counter isn’t burned up. This whole side of the diner is black mostly from the heavy soot that the billowing smoke spread all over the place.”

  I rubbed more of the soot off and rapped on it with my knuckles. “I think I can salvage this thing, Brody,” I said with a smile growing on my face.

  “This old counter is really the heart and soul of the Old School Diner,” Brody said, putting his arm around my shoulder.

  “It is,” I said with a heartening nod. “It might need some work, but as long as part of this old counter is here, it will still be the same place it always was.”

  I was feeling a little better about the place when we walked out the back door.

  “You know, Brody, I think I’m going to survive this. Thanks for the therapy session.”

  He laughed and kissed my forehead. “All I did was show you that a lot of the diner is salvageable. But you’ll get my therapy bill next week.”

  It was my phone that rang this time as we approached my car. It was Gilbert Gallagher. He and his brother, Dickie, hand been real estate agents in Paint Creek for many years, and now he was my insurance agent.

  “Hi, Gilbert! I guess you heard about what happened to the diner. How are you and Dickie doing?”

  “Fine, fine. I just thought we should discuss your options at this point. I’ll have to put on my claims adjuster hat tomorrow and see what it looks like there, but from what I hear it’s going to take more than paint and tile to get it back in shape if that’s what you choose to do.”

  “Well, yes. We were just looking at it. It will need all new equipment and lot of work on the building. But, yes, I want to fix it back up.”

  “Well, you know, a lot of folks are moving their businesses out to the East End Shopping Center area, Mercy. You could rent a spot and put in a modern facility if you want to. Then tear down the diner and sell the lot.”

  “Ah, you know, Gilbert. I’m an Old School girl. That’s home to me and to all my friends.”

  “Whatever you want. You know I’ll get you the best settlement I can.”

  “Thanks, Gilber
t.”

  “Insurance?” Brody asked as I got in the car.

  “Yup. Gilbert. So, we could go back to the Torch and have our dessert now, if you want.”

  He let out a little chuckle. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. Mercy.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, for one thing, we’d get arrested for breaking and entering. It’s after midnight, dear.”

  “Oh! Really? Well, come over. I’ll make coffee.”

  “Well, I will come over instead of making that long seven-minute drive home to Calhoun. But I have to get right to sleep.”

  “Oh? Some official Sheriff business early in the morning?”

  He smiled. “You might say that. The state says I have to attend a law enforcement seminar all morning. They just told me about it this afternoon. It’s on investigation techniques.”

  “Ooh, sounds fun. Is it in Calhoun?”

  “Yep. At the state college. And the speaker is none other than the noted British criminologist, Sir Dig Duggery of Skullduggery, Limited.”

  “Oh! I’m going with you.”

  Chapter Ten

  We arrived at the modern student center just before 7:00 a.m. and followed the signs to Bradley Auditorium on the main level.

  “Why do they start these things so early?” I asked, still quite groggy.

  “I hope they have donuts,” Brody said.

  “And coffee. Lots of coffee.”

  “Copy that.”

  Most of Brody’s deputies were already in the auditorium and waved for him to join them up front. Medical Examiner Sylvia Chambers was there as well, and I recognized many of the faces from the Crime Scene Investigation team.

  Students started filing in, filling up several of the back rows as well. Professor Duggery was at a table next to the podium arranging papers – next to a box of donuts and a large tureen of hot coffee with a spigot at the base.

  The tractor beam emanating from the coffee pot pulled me in, and I dragged Brody with me. He didn’t know what I was doing at first, but he followed my gaze, spotting the coffee and donuts.

  We got a smile and pleasant nod from the professor as we filled our cups. I took the last chocolate donut, which earned me a disappointed glare from Brody. Fortunately for him, I spotted something I liked even better.