A Killer Cake (8 page)

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Authors: Jessica Beck

Tags: #mystery, #diner, #series, #cozy, #jessica beck

BOOK: A Killer Cake
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Ingredients

 

1 Tablespoon butter, unsalted

2-3 carrots, medium, peeled and chopped

1 onion, medium sized, diced.

 

1-2 cans chicken broth, 99% fat free (14.5 to
29 oz)

1-2 cups chicken, cooked and cut into
bite-sized chunks

1 teaspoon basil, dried

2 dashes salt, regular table variety

2 dashes pepper, regular table variety

 

1 to 1/1/2 cups noodles, cooked (we like wide
egg noodles in our soup)

Enough water to boil the noodles

 

 

Directions

 

In a large pan, melt the butter over low
heat, and then add the carrots and onion, cooking them until they
soften slightly. Next, add the chicken broth (the amount depends on
the consistency you like. We prefer a less soupy mix and more of a
stew texture, so we just use one can), basil, salt and pepper.
Bring this to a boil, and then simmer for 10 to 15 minutes on low
heat.

In another pot, cook the noodles until they
are done per the directions on the package. After they’re finished
cooking, drain them, and then add the noodles to the simmering
broth mixture.

Next up, add the cut up chicken pieces, stir
them in together well, and then heat the entire soup throughout
over low to low-medium heat. Serve this soup with grilled cheese
sandwiches, and you’ve got a wonderful meal!

 

 

 

Chapter 6

 

 

“Welcome back, you two,” Martha said as Moose
and I walked back into the diner half an hour later. “I didn’t
expect you both back so soon.”

“Neither did we, but our last appointment had
a sudden emergency he had to take care of,” I explained with a
smile.

“Yes, I believe he was called away for
something quite dire,” Moose kicked in. “Evidently, it was all just
one big coincidence that it happened exactly after we asked him for
his alibi. It’s funny how things work out sometimes.”

“Do you think he was the one responsible for
what happened to Roy Thompson?” Martha asked him gravely.

“It’s way too soon to tell, one way or the
other. After all, the man was just poisoned today.”

I looked around the diner and was troubled to
see that we had only one customer at the time, and it was a woman I
didn’t recognize. Had all of our regulars deserted us already? Word
might not have had a chance to get out earlier, but if this was the
result of that happening, what did that spell for The Charming
Moose? “Has it been this slow since we’ve been gone?”

Martha shrugged. “It has, but Victoria, you
know as well as I do that from two to four, there’s never a big
crowd in here.”

“I know that it’s true in my mind, but in my
heart, there’s an entirely different reason for it today. I hope we
solve this one quickly.”

“I’m sure you will,” Martha said, trying her
best to be reassuring. “So, are you both back for good, or do I
need to stay here longer?”

“I’ve got a hunch that we’re done for the
day,” I said, remembering the sheriff’s caveat that we weren’t to
approach his three main witnesses until the next day at noon. “What
do you think, Moose? Do you have any more ideas we can pursue?”

“Not at the moment, but we both know that
could all change with one telephone call. There are a few feelers I
put out that are still working on answers.”

I grabbed the order pad from my grandmother.
“Well, until something else happens, why don’t you two take off?
I’m sure you have better things to do than just hang around the
diner all night.”

“Are you kicking us out, Granddaughter?”
Moose asked me deadpan.

“Let’s just say I’m saving you for when I
really need you both, and leave it at that,” I replied. “Shall
we?”

“When you two are finished teasing each
other, I’d like to go home, Moose.”

“I don’t see any reason why not. We’ve done
all that we can for now,” Moose said. “What did you have in mind?”
he asked as he winked broadly at Martha.

“You’ll just have to wait until we get there
to find out,” she said as she smiled at her husband.

“I’ll call you later if something comes up,”
Moose told me on his way out the door.

“I’m counting on it,” I said.

After they were gone, I refilled the lone
diner’s coffee cup, and then I asked her, “Can I get you anything
else?”

The woman frowned a little, looked around at
the empty diner, and then she said, “You’re Victoria, aren’t
you?”

“I am,” I said as I offered my hand. “And who
might you be?”

“Someone who wants to talk to you in
private,” she said. I couldn’t get over how helpless she looked, as
though she needed someone bigger and stronger to take care of her.
“My name is Loretta Jenkins. I’m Roy Thompson’s illegitimate
daughter.”

 

“You sure know how to start a conversation,”
I told her as I sat down across from her. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t
even realize that Roy had any children besides Asher.”

“He didn’t have any that he ever claimed,
that’s for sure,” she said with a hint of sadness in her voice.
Loretta was a pretty woman in her early thirties, and knowing Roy,
her mother must have been a real beauty for her to come out looking
that good from that particular gene pool mix. Loretta had striking
brown eyes, and hair so black that it almost didn’t look natural.
She was petite, barely over five feet tall, and if she weighed a
hundred pounds soaking wet, I’d eat my raincoat.

“Might I ask who your mother is?”

“You may. And it’s was now. Momma’s name was
Honey Jenkins. She met Roy when he was sizing up some property he
was thinking about buying, and from the way she told it, their
attraction was nothing more than two lonely people getting together
for one night. When she got pregnant, she contacted him, but he
never got back to her. I didn’t find that last part out about until
last month after Momma passed away. I was going through her things,
and I found a rough draft of one of her letters to him. It was all
pretty sad, and I was wondering how to handle it when I found out
that Roy had been murdered.”

“Loretta, how did you get the news that
quickly?” I asked her. “This all just happened this afternoon.”

“Oddly enough, I was in town trying to decide
if I was ready to tell him about me when I heard that he died. I
guess I’ll never get the chance to get to know him now.”

If it were true, it was one of the saddest
stories I’d ever heard in my life.

“I’m sorry for your loss, but why tell me?” I
asked her.

“I heard around town that you were digging
into his murder, and I didn’t want to talk to the police about my
connection with Roy if I didn’t have to.”

“Why not? That would seem like the next
logical step for you to take,” I asked.

“Well,” she said, suddenly not making eye
contact with me anymore. “I have a few issues with the police.
Nothing serious, just some outstanding parking tickets and things
like that. I was kind of hoping to avoid all that by talking to
you. Have you figured out who killed him yet?”

“My grandfather and I are good, but it just
happened less than five hours ago,” I said. “These things take
time, and we’ve just gotten started. I’d ask you if you knew anyone
with a motive to kill your father, but from the sound of it, you
didn’t really even know the man.”

“That’s true, but honestly,
I
might
have a motive. I wasn’t going to push it before, but now that he’s
gone, I’m going to make sure that I get my share of what’s coming
to me.” I must have looked surprised by her callous admission,
because she quickly followed that up with, “I never had a father,
just a series of my mom’s boyfriends. Roy Thompson can’t leave a
legacy behind in my heart, but he sure can make up for it in my
wallet.”

Wow, and she’d struck me as such a quiet,
almost helpless woman at first glance. How quickly that had changed
once she opened her mouth and started talking.

“Well, I have nothing to do with his estate,
and so far, I have no idea who might have killed him.”

She nodded, slid a five under her plate, and
then stood. “If you come up with anything, I live in Laurel Landing
with my boyfriend.” She jotted down her number on a torn-off edge
of her placemat, and handed it to me. “I’d appreciate it if you’d
let me know what’s going on.”

“You really do need to talk to the sheriff,”
I said. “He’s not going to care about some parking tickets. He’ll
want to interview you as soon as possible.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s something he just
can’t do,” she said firmly, and I could see an edge coming out of
her that reminded me of her late father. There was steel there
buried beneath the surface, an unexpected strength of will. “I
trust that you’ll keep my little secret all to yourself. Otherwise,
I wouldn’t take kindly to it.”

“I’m not making you any promises,” I said,
startled by her veiled threat.

“You might want to reconsider that,” Loretta
said as she stood.

After she left the diner, I walked back to
the kitchen. Greg was already standing in the doorway.

“Did you hear any of that?” I asked him.

“Just the part where she threatened you,”
Greg said. “That woman is trouble.”

“I’ve got a hunch that you’re right. What
should I do?”

To his credit, my husband didn’t even
hesitate. “Call Sheriff Croft, tell him what just happened, and
give him that telephone number.”

“You’re not worried that she might try to
retaliate?”

“You can’t let that influence you,” Greg
said. “The sheriff has a right to know, and besides, you’ve got a
whole clan watching your back.
Nobody
threatens one of our
own and gets away with it.”

I kissed my husband lightly, and then I
pulled out my cell phone.

The sheriff answered on the first ring, and I
said, “Sheriff Croft, we have to talk.”

“Is it about Roy Thompson’s murder?” he
asked, “because otherwise, I’m not interested.”

“Let me ask you something. Did you know that
Roy had an illegitimate daughter named Loretta Jenkins?”

There was a moment’s pause on the other end
as he processed the information, and then the sheriff asked, “Do I
even want to know how you came by that particular bit of
information?”

“I didn’t do a thing,” I explained.
“Apparently she came to the diner looking for me, and after she
asked me for some information I didn’t have, she gave me a pretty
clear threat not to tell you.”

“Is she still there?”

“No, after she threatened me, she walked out
the door.”

“It’s a shame she didn’t hang around,” the
sheriff said. “Do you have any idea where she lives?”

“She said that she’s in Laurel Landing, but I
can do better than that. I’ve got her telephone number, if that
might help.”

“Let’s have it,” he said, and I read the
number off the piece of paper she’d given me. “Victoria, you did
the right thing calling me.”

“There was never any doubt in my mind,” I
said as I winked at my husband.

“Would you like me to send someone over
there?” the sheriff asked.

“She doesn’t even know that I’ve told you
yet,” I said. “Besides, we can take care of ourselves here.”

“I’m sure you believe that, but I’m still
going to ask some of my patrol officers to double up patrolling the
diner and your house for a while.”

“Do you honestly think she knows where I
live?” I asked, suddenly a little unnerved that Loretta Jenkins
might have that knowledge. The diner was one thing, but my home was
my sanctuary, a place that Greg and I shared away from The Charming
Moose.

“With the technology available these days, I
wouldn’t doubt it for a second,” he said. “I’m going to make her my
top priority.”

“Then you should know that she already
admitted to me that she was in town today when her dad was
poisoned.”

“Slow down a second. We don’t even know for
sure that Roy was her biological father,” the sheriff said.

“You won’t think that after you’ve spoken
with her. She acts like a chip off the old block, and I don’t mean
that in a good way.”

“Understood,” the sheriff said. “Thanks for
the tip, Victoria.”

“You’re welcome.” I was about to ask him if
he’d made any real progress on the case, but he hung up before I
had the chance. Maybe he’d done that on purpose, just to stall my
inevitable questions that were sure to follow.

After I hung up my phone and started to put
it away, Greg asked, “Aren’t you going to call Moose and tell him
what just happened?”

“I suppose I’d better, but he’s not going to
be too pleased with me.”

“Why not?” Greg asked. “You did everything
you could.”

“You and I both know that, but I’m sure that
in Moose’s mind, he’s going to be disappointed that I didn’t lock
Loretta in the bathroom until he could get here so he could grill
her himself.”

Greg smiled at that reference. “You still
need to call him.”

I did as my husband suggested, and as
predicted, Moose was unhappy that I hadn’t been able to get more
out of Loretta, but mostly he took it in stride.

“At the very least, we have another motivated
suspect to add to our list,” Moose said. “If she was telling you
the truth, greed might be a factor in her committing murder.”

“But why now?” I asked. “Wouldn’t she want to
take the opportunity to meet the man who was her father before she
killed him?”

“He might have been the biological
contributor, but from the sound of things, he did nothing to help
raise her, emotionally or financially. From the sound of this
woman, she must be pretty cold.”

“Icy,” I agreed.

“Don’t worry about a thing, Victoria. You did
the right thing calling the sheriff.”

“Even despite her warning not to say
anything?” I asked.

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