A Bad Egg: The Classic Diner Mystery Part 17

"Thank you." She saw Moose across the room swapping lies with Lefty Hicks and called out, "Are you ready to go yet, you old fool?"

"You're going to have to be a lot more specific than that, or half the men in here are going to try to leave with you, Martha," Lefty replied.

She laughed at that. "Lefty, there's no old fool like mine. The rest of you are just pale imitations of the real thing."

"That stings, Martha. Remember once upon a time you preferred me over this fellow here. We went to the Spring Dance together in middle school."

Moose shook his head. "You may have gone there together, but she went home with me, Lefty. You always seem to forget that part of the story."

"That's because you kidnapped her," Lefty said. "Can you think of any other reason she'd choose you over me?"

"I can think of dozens," Moose said with a smile.

My grandfather slapped his old friend on the back, and then Moose approached Martha, extending his arm. "My lady, if you're ready, let's go home."

Martha kissed his cheek, and I could swear that she blushed a little as she did so. "You never change, do you?"

"I thought you loved me just the way I was," Moose said.

"In the beginning I might have changed a few things if I could have, but truth be told, I've gotten used to you over the years, warts and all."

"If there's a compliment in there, I'm having a hard time spotting it, but I'll just a.s.sume you meant there to be one, and I'm going to take it."

After my grandparents were gone, the diner seemed positively restrained. Greg was in the kitchen working his magic, and I was waiting on customers and ringing them up when they finished eating. We were a good team, but there wasn't time for us to chat for more than a brief word now and then.

Greg and I were closing up for the night when I saw that we were about to have one last customer. If it had been anyone else, I would have turned him away, but this happened to be someone I was pretty keen to speak with.

"Do you have a minute, Victoria? I know it's closing time, but this conversation might be beneficial to you as well as to me."

"Sure thing, Sheriff Croft. Come on in. I'm sure that Greg won't mind."

"Hi, Sheriff," Greg said as he came out front. "Don't mind me. I've got more work to do in back."

"I won't be long," the sheriff told him.

"Take your time. I'm working on a new cobbler recipe, so I don't mind the extra time in the kitchen to experiment."

"You're kidding, right? I love your cobbler just the way it is," the sheriff said.

"Thanks, but it can always be better. Everything can, as a matter of fact. Well, not everything. Fried eggs are as good as they are ever going to get. Bacon, too. That stuff is unbelievable."

"I thought you cut bacon out of your diet completely," I told my husband.

"Every now and then I have a nibble," he confessed. "Not more than once a week, and never an entire piece. Victoria, I have to make sure that our supplier is keeping up with the quality of the products we serve. I owe it to our customers."

"Do you taste the tomatoes every week, too?" I asked him with a grin. My husband loved ketchup, but hated tomatoes, so I knew that it really wasn't a fair question.

"I take a bite, but then I spit it out every time," he said.

"Then I'll forgive you your bacon."

Once Greg was back in the kitchen and I had the diner's front door locked, I poured two cups of coffee. Sliding one in front of the sheriff at the bar where he'd taken a seat, I grabbed another that was close by and took a sip of my own cup. "You can't pay for this, since I was getting ready to throw it out anyway. I'd better warn you, though. It's been sitting for a while, so it might be a bit strong."

"No need to apologize. That's the way I like it. Sorry I didn't get back to you earlier. I had something that I had to take care of."

"Another homicide?" I asked.

"No, nothing nearly that dramatic, but I couldn't afford to ignore it. Why did you call me, anyway?"

"Unless I'm wrong, which I don't think I am, I can eliminate at least one suspect for you, and maybe even two."

"I have to tell you, you've got my attention," he said as he pushed his cup away. "Let's hear it."

"Today I overheard Cal Davies at The Harbor Inn extorting money from Jessie Blackstone."

"And that's supposed to prove them both innocent of murder? I don't get it."

"Give me a chance to explain first," I said. "Cal extorted money from Jessie because he witnessed a fight that she had with Gordon that incriminated her. When she refused to give him any more money, he changed strategies and told her that if she didn't pay him more, he'd keep her alibi to himself, and she could rot in jail for all that he cared."

"How would Cal know what Jessie was up to at the time of the murder?" the sheriff asked me as he pulled the cup back, and then clearly had second thoughts about taking another sip. Well, I'd warned him. It was strong enough to get up and walk away.

"Evidently Cal was up to something in the corridor near her room during the entire window of time that Gordon was murdered. She was inside all afternoon, and he swears that he can testify to it. That lets her off the hook, and him too, if he's on your list."

"He's not, although Cal has certainly crossed the line enough in the past to make someone else angry enough to kill him. I know that Cal isn't squeaky clean by any means, but he's gone too far this time."

"What are you going to do to him?" I asked.

"Me personally? Nothing. I'll go out and talk to him, and Jessie as well, to confirm their stories. Once I'm satisfied that he really can provide her with an alibi for the murder, I'll casually mention to the owner what Cal has been up to."

"Will he get fired?" I asked. I hated the thought that I was going to be an instrument in getting the man dismissed from his job, but I didn't see any way that it could be helped.

"It wouldn't surprise me. At the very least, I imagine that he'll get transferred to a post far less prestigious than the one that he has now. Don't worry about Cal. I have a hunch that he'll land on his feet, no matter what happens to him. He's the kind of guy that could fall into a barrel of slop and pull out a diamond ring."

"Do you believe him when he claims to alibi Jessie?"

"This time I do, because I understand his strategy. In order to give Jessie a real alibi, he has to admit what he was up to, and I've got a hunch that it's nothing he wants known. That's why he tried to use the fight first. He could do that without any repercussions for himself."

"That's something, then," I said. "Have you been able to narrow the time of death any further?"

He nodded. "We can say with near certainty that Gordon Murphy was killed between two and three in the afternoon."

"Is the coroner that good in pinpointing times of death these days?" I asked.

"We used his preliminary estimate, and then we were able to narrow the timeline by finding witnesses who pa.s.sed directly by the scene of the crime before the murder. Gordon was found a minute before three, and we have the last known empty sighting of the spot where he was killed a little after two. That should help matters, and I'm hoping that some of our suspects will be able to refine their whereabouts a little clearer now. So far, we've gotten mostly lousy alibis."

"How about your list of suspects? Would you care to compare notes with Moose and me?" I asked him with a grin.

Sheriff Croft laughed. "Tell you what I am willing to do. Why don't you tell me who made your list, and I'll add anything that's relevant whenever I can."

"I couldn't call Moose at home to invite him to join us, could I?" I asked. I hated the idea of doing too much without my grandfather, and I knew that he wouldn't appreciate me sharing the details of our investigation with the sheriff without him.

Sheriff Croft glanced at his watch, and then he frowned. "I'm sorry, I'm honestly not trying to exclude him, but I don't have that kind of time. I'm in the middle of an active murder investigation, remember?"

"I'm not about to forget it," I said. "Don't worry about it. I'll catch him up later. Where should I start?"

"A list of names might be nice," he said.

"Okay, here goes." As I started to share our list with him, I decided to add motives as well to the mix. It was time to be open and honest about the folks we were looking at as potential murderers, and why they'd made it onto our radar.

"First, there's Ellen, and her connections to Gordon. I believe in my heart that Ellen herself didn't do it, but I admit that I'm prejudiced in her favor. Still, the man came to town threatening to take her children away, so that's most likely motive enough for anyone."

"Actually, I'm kind of surprised to hear you say that, Victoria," the sheriff said.

I tried not to get upset as I explained, "Moose and I are doing our best to look at this case rationally, so we're leaving ourselves open to every possibility. My loyalty to Ellen has nothing to do with her name being on our list. I will never believe that she killed Gordon, no matter how strong her motivation might have been, not unless she tells me herself, and even then, I'm not sure."

He laughed. "I would expect nothing less from you. I think it's a compliment to your progress as an investigator that you've got her on your list at all."

"Is she on yours too?" I asked softly.

The sheriff nodded slightly, but it was clear that it gave him no joy to do so. "Motivation can be a strong factor in murder. Who else made your list?"

"Let's see. Based on their proximity to Ellen, we've got Robert and Opal Hightower, and Wayne, her boyfriend. Their motives are all the same. They love Ellen, and every single one of them wants to protect her."

"Do you really believe that either one of her parents might have actually done it?" the sheriff asked, his coffee now completely forgotten.

"There's something funny about those two. On two separate occasions in the last few days, each one has implied that the other might have done it."

"You've got to love that kind of loyalty and devotion," the sheriff said. "That reminds me. One of my officers found Opal's jacket. There was no blood, just paint that matched the sample from one of the benches we took. I'm afraid that's a dead end."

"No worries. It's not the first one I've faced in this investigation," I said.

"Who else is on your list of suspects?" the sheriff asked. "Or is that it?"

"No, we have two more names: Sam Jackson and Mitch.e.l.l Cobb. Evidently there was some really bad blood between Gordon and Sam Jackson. Jackson keeps claiming that everything was settled, and that all debts were repaid, but I'm not sure that I believe him."

"I've got my eye on him as well," the sheriff said. "But what's this about Mitch.e.l.l Cobb? That's news to me."

"It appears that Mitch.e.l.l seems to have fixated on Ellen since she threw him over in high school for Gordon."

The sheriff whistled softly. "That's a long time to keep a flame alive and hold a grudge."

"Hey, in matters of the heart, there's not always an expiration date."

"Isn't that the truth? I've seen some crazy things done in the past in the name of love."

"I bet you have. So, I've laid my cards all out on the table. Now, what can you tell me?"

"Do you mean that I haven't already shared enough?" he asked with a soft smile.

"That's exactly what I mean," I said. "Come on, we're on the same side here, and you know it."

"Victoria, that's the only reason that I put up with your meddling," he said. I might have reproached him for the dig, but I decided at the last second that might not be in my best interest. The sheriff smiled outright when he saw that I wasn't going to react. "Okay, now I'm officially impressed."

"Because I kept my temper in check?" I asked.

"You've got to admit that you've given me grief for a lot less in the past," he said.

"What can I say? It's the new me."

"I know enough not to comment on that one way or the other. Let's see. What do I know that you don't?" He tapped the table for a long fifteen seconds before he said, "Believe it or not, our lists are more similar than you might think. I can't share much, but let me say this. There's not a soul on your list that doesn't have the potential to be the killer that we're both looking for."

"Is there anyone on your list that didn't make ours?" I asked. The sheriff's praise was all well and good, but I needed more than that if Moose and I were going to have any success solving this case.

"There's one woman you missed," he said. "I can't tell you her name, or anything else about her, but after we narrowed down the time of death, I have a hunch that she's going to be alibied nicely."

"Is she local?" I asked. "Come on. At least give me that."

"Sorry, but not even that," the sheriff said as he stood. "Tell you what. If she doesn't have an alibi from two to three, you and I will talk again."

"I can live with that," I said, though it was less than ideal. Still, if Gordon was seeing another woman on the side, she'd somehow managed to slip under our radar completely. I hadn't heard anything about Gordon cheating on Jessie before their nuptials, so I really didn't have any reason to be upset that the sheriff was holding out on me.

As he headed for the door, I unlocked it, and Sheriff Croft added, "You and Moose be careful out there, Victoria. I don't have to remind you that there's a killer somewhere among us that's still on the loose."

"No, I'm well aware of it, and so is my partner in crime."

"I'll be in touch," he said.

I held the door open for a second. "You know where to find me most of the time," I said.

"And when I don't, that's telling, too, isn't it? Good night."

"Good night, Sheriff."

After I locked the door back, I went into the kitchen.

"How goes the great cobbler experiment?" I asked Greg as he frowned at his mixing bowl.

"This batter is completely unacceptable," he said as he emptied the mess into the trashcan. "Don't worry, I'll get it sooner or later."

I kissed his cheek. "I know you will. What do you say we clean up, balance the register, and go home? I could use a good long soak in the tub before bed tonight."

"Tell you what. I'll make us some dinner while you do, and after we eat, you can do the dishes and I'll take a hot shower."

"A bath is better," I said, sparking an ongoing debate we'd been having since we were first married. My husband, reasonable in most things, hated baths, and loved showers instead. Evidently he'd despised being forced into the tub as a young boy, and the animosity had never ceased.

"Says you," Greg said as he kissed the tip of my nose. "How much do you want to bet that I finish cleaning up before you do?"

"That's not fair, and you know it," I said. "I love my grandmother with all of my heart, but balancing a register after she's worked a day can be a real challenge."