Down Home and Deadly (18 page)

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
.
 
.
 
.
”

“Ok
ay
, 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—
w
ait 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 “
a
ll 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 who
se
father she was referring to but couldn’t figure out a way to ask her without appearing nosy. Okay, nosier than usual.

A few minut
e
s 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
m
other. “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.”

“I knew his grandmother pretty well. And of course I remember all the scandal during his trial.”

“Trial?” My voice rose
,
and a few people glanced toward us. Oh well, anyone who overheard probably just thought I was talking about Lisa’s future like everyone else. “Why did he have a trial?”

“I guess you were too young to remember.” She paused and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Well, maybe you weren’t even born yet. I’ve lost track of the years, but it happened a long time ago.” She settled her napkin in her lap. “I don’t think he served any time.” Again she paused. “Hmm. Maybe just probation since he was a minor.” If this were anyone but Marge, I would think she was drawing this out on purpose to frustrate me.

“So what’d he do?” Mama was right. Too much curiosity could drive you crazy.

She glanced around the diner. “This isn’t the best place to discuss it.” She lowered her voice. “You can ask your mother or dad later. I’m sure they remember.”

They probably did remember, but
Mama
had distinctly asked me not to get involved in this investigation. So asking them was out of the question.

Just as I opened my mouth to reply, I heard a loud crash behind me. I spun around. Debbie stood with her hand to her mouth. Broken plates and the remains of more than one daily special littered the floor. Except for the part that was spread down the front of Grimmett and one of his friends.

“Excuse me, ladies. I think I’m needed over there.” I snatched a stack of napkins on my way over to the mess. Debbie’s lips were trembling
,
and tears welled in her eyes as she tried to wipe chicken and dressing off Grimmett’s shirt. He pushed her hands away and took a napkin from me and handed one to his friend. Debbie stepped back.

Alice hurried out of the kitchen with two damp towels. She handed one to Debbie, who took it and started wiping at the food.
Alice
bent down beside her and helped.
Marco
rushed over with a tray
,
and he and I picked up the broken plates.

Grimmett and his equally unlucky friend got most of the food off their shirts. He turned back to his buddies as if we weren’t there. “So like I was saying
.
 
.
 
.
I heard she caught him in that little sports car with another woman and shot him.”

Marco
and I exchanged a skeptical look as we finished up cleaning. Right
.
P
arked behind the
D
umpster
with his secret love. How romantic. And even if he were, where was this mysterious other woman when I found the body?

Grimmett must have had the same thought. He glanced down at me. “Is that true? Since you found the body
,
you oughta know.”

I rose to my feet and dusted my hands off over the tray. “I didn’t see anyone else.”

“I’m going to try and clean some of this off my apron.” Debbie’s tears had dried some, but she was still ashen. “Can you cover my tables for a few minutes?”

I looked around the crowded dining room. “I’ll try. You go ahead.”

I was really busy
,
but once again
Marco
and I were able to cover Debbie’s tables as well as our own. By the time I realized she wasn’t coming back, our shift was over. Now I’d have to run her phone by her house again.

I walked into the break room to gather my things and smiled when I saw Harvey and Alice
there
drinking a cup of coffee. Suddenly
,
I had a brilliant idea. I poured myself a cup and sank down beside them.

“How’s everything going?” I asked conversationally.

Harvey nodded. “Pretty good.”

“Still
planning
to move to
Florida
after you finish helping Carly?”

Alice tilted her head as if she could see through my casual questions. “Planning on it.”

“I need to ask y’all a question.”

“Ookay,”
Harvey
said.

I smiled. “Marge told me to ask my parents for the details, but frankly, Mama’s already lectured me about staying out of this murder investigation, so I thought I’d ask you two instead. It’s about J.D.”

Alice jerked
,
and her hot coffee splashed down her hand and onto the table.

“
Oh
no.” She clutched her hand.

“Are you okay?” I asked quickly.

Harvey jumped up and grabbed her. “Here, hon, let’s get some cold water on that.” He bustled her out of her chair to the staff bathroom while I wiped up the mess.

I went to get a damp rag from the kitchen
,
and when I came back, the couple was nowhere in sight. Had
Harvey
take
n
Alice
to the ER for her burn? Or were they hiding out to avoid any further questioning? Maybe the whole town was in on some sort of cover
-
up about J.D.’s past. Or maybe I’d been watching too many old movies.

*****

After
Alice
’s strange reaction, if it was a reaction, taking Debbie’s phone back shifted to second on my priority list. First, I had to find out what Marge had been talking about. With that in mind, I looked up her number in my address book. After all, Marge hadn’t said she wouldn’t tell me
;
she’d just said the diner wasn’t the place to discuss it. Maybe her house would be. One phone call later, I’d been invited by for a glass of tea.

Ten minutes later, still smelling like the lunch specials, I walked up to Marge’s door. Had it only been a year ago that I’d stood on this same porch holding a green bean casserole after Hank’s murder? So much had changed. Some for the better, some for the worse. I reached out to ring the doorbell
,
and the sun glinted off my engagement ring. One change in particular was a definite improvement.

Marge opened the door and motioned
for
me to come in. I stepped past her into a house that only remotely resembled the one she and Hank had lived in. Just as she’d done with her personality since she’d become a widow, Marge had opened up the house to sunshine and light. Bright cheery colors replaced the drab beige walls
,
and as she ushered me into the living room, the plastic
-
covered couch was nowhere to be found. “I love what you’ve done with the place,” I murmured as I sank onto a
n
overstuffed
red
chair.

Her face lit up. “Really? Tiffany helped me. She and I had so much fun picking everything out. We even did most of the work ourselves. But the ideas and the planning were all hers. She’s a genius with colors.”

I shook my head as I thought of Tiffany’s drab wardrobe, dull frizzy hair, and scrubbed face. Behind that costume, she hid a flair for colors and design. That girl had learned a long time ago how to choose her weapons in the perpetual battle with her mother. “It’s wonderful, Marge.”