“Maybe she needs a family and didn’t know any other way to approach you except by dropping in unexpectedly,” he said. “Even if she doesn’t need a family, you do. I mean, who do you lean on?”
Good question, I thought. My parents died a long time ago, way before I met John. So I guess he was the one who-I blinked. I couldn’t think about this now, much less talk about it with Tom yet.
Tom pulled into an angled parking place in front of the Main Street Diner. “You didn’t answer my question. Can we talk more later? I want you to let me in, Jillian.”
“Sure,” I said. But was I sure? I didn’t know.
“Are we okay, then?” he asked.
“Certainly.” I gently tapped the corner of his turned-up mouth. “Your smile fixed everything.”
“That’s a nonanswer if I ever heard one,” he said as we both got out of the car.
The Main Street Diner had opened last month, and from what I’d seen from the outside, the restaurant suited Mercy’s small-town ambience right down to the green awning, which matched all the other ones on the street. There must be some kind of town ordinance about those awnings, I decided. I mean, people couldn’t all choose the same color by accident, could they?
I’d heard from Belle, who owned Belle’s Beans, that this new diner was already cutting into her revenue. She once had a monopoly on coffee, breakfast muffins, pastries and ready-made sandwiches. I loved Belle, who was kind of wacky but made great coffee, and I almost felt like a traitor visiting this establishment.
Tom held the door for me, and when I walked in I felt like I’d stepped onto the set of an old movie. The twin aisles of booths to my right were high-backed wood. To my left was a long, curving counter accented by chrome. The red leather swivel stools had chrome pedestals to match. A sign told us to seat ourselves-it was early for supper-and then I saw Candace waving at us from the back booth.
I slid in beside her to give Tom plenty of room across from us. Even though the booth seats had no padding, they were comfortable. A small jukebox was attached to the wall behind the sugar, salt and pepper.
Tom immediately took a quarter from his pocket and began to flip the laminated pages for a song. He chose “Jailhouse Rock” and settled back with a smile as the song started to play. I didn’t move my knee away when I felt his rest lightly against mine. Maybe he had no idea, and my moving away would give him the wrong idea. Or maybe it was a kind of apology for stepping in with Kara without talking it over with me first. In any case, I had to admit that it felt nice.
A waitress in a pink and white uniform appeared, handed us menus and took our drink orders-iced tea all around.
I turned and looked at Candace. “Why the need to vent?”
She said, “Between Morris and Lydia, I might be checking into the Hotel California before this case is over. Or maybe I already have, seeing as how you can never leave.”
“I’d love to help, but I don’t think I have much influence with those two.” I opened the menu, and the first thing that caught my eye was what was touted as the diner’s specialty, a Texas chili dog. In South Carolina? That was kind of like serving a Whopper at McDonald’s.
“ Lydia can drive anyone nuts,” Tom said. “She’s nearly driven me to the edge more than once. What’s going on?”
“You know Morris is acting chief?” she said.
“Jillian told me,” Tom said.
“He won’t listen,” she said. “Not like he ever listened to me before, but we’re losing time while he waits on Lydia to find a pathologist to do the autopsy. Tough to accomplish on the weekend, I know, but still, she seems to be in no hurry.”
“Losing time?” I said.
“The first forty-eight hours are crucial in any investigation, and I spent the entire night and this morning collecting evidence.” She began whispering then. “See, I know the professor was murdered.”
“Not suicide and not an accident? You’re sure?” I said.
“Yes, because-”
But Candace was interrupted by the waitress, who’d reappeared with our drinks and was ready to take our orders. We all chose Texas chili dogs-which, from their description, sounded like nothing unusual, but since they were touted as “the special” we all decided we had to try them. Tom ordered fries and Candace added onion rings, but my mind wasn’t on food any longer. My instincts had told me that man was murdered, so I was eager to hear what Candace had to say.
“Won’t you get in trouble for talking about this with us?” I said.
“She knows we won’t say anything,” Tom said.
“But that means not saying anything to Kara, Tom. You understand that?” I said.
“Who’s Kara?” Candace looked back and forth between us.
I hesitated.
“Okay, if there’s a person who you might talk to about this case, then I’ve said enough.” Candace looked ready to vent on me now. Her arms were crossed across her chest, and her lips were a tight pucker.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Kara is John’s daughter. She arrived this morning, right after the bug man left.”
“He had a daughter? And you never told me?” Candace said. She sounded hurt.
“Never told me, either,” Tom added, who obviously sympathized with her hurt.
The whole thing made me pretty uncomfortable. It was hard for me to talk about Kara and explain to others why we weren’t very close. It was one of those things that was easier left unsaid. “Can I explain when we’re both not so… so tired and cranky?” I said.
“I’m not tired,” Tom said.
“But you want to help Kara with her writing career, and-”
“Hold on, Jillian,” Tom said. “I thought you understood.” His knee moved away from mine. “Helping Kara does not involve telling her anything Candace says about the case. If the professor was murdered-and I have no doubt that’s true if Candace says so, then-”
“Kara’s a writer? What kind of writer?” Candace asked.
I sighed. And then I explained.“She lost her job and needs your support. I get it.” Candace seemed to relax, and so did I. No secrets between the three of us now.
When our food arrived, Tom said, “Let’s take a break from talking about Kara and the professor, eat these chili dogs and then get coffee over at Belle’s. I, for one, will feel better about the three of us conversing as trusting friends once my belly is full.”
“You’re right,” I said. “Stressful day. Nothing like a chili dog and fries to cure what ails you.”
Turns out the “ Texas chili dog” was like nothing I’d tasted back home in Texas. Instead, this dog had a chili sauce touched with cinnamon and came loaded with grated sweet onions. It had to be the best bad-for-you food I’d ever eaten. No one talked. We’d all gone to heart- attack-on-a-bun heaven.
When we were done, we walked one block to Belle’s Beans in silence, but in a far better mood. Food is the quicker fixer-upper. As we made our way down the block, I could almost smell the impending rain, but the aroma of coffee was stronger.
As we entered the coffee shop, I wondered whether Belle had been exaggerating about losing revenue. The place was packed. After we gave our coffee orders to Tom, he stood in line while Candace and I went back outside. Belle set up wrought-iron tables on the sidewalk when the weather was nice, and we grabbed the only one that was unoccupied.
“Tell me why you think it’s murder,” I said. I glanced through the window to my right and saw that Tom still had three people in front of him. “Or should we wait with the questions until he comes with the coffee?”
But the questions would have to wait, thanks to the arrival of Lydia Monk. She stopped at our table and smiled. “If it isn’t Cagney and Lacey.”
I snuck a peek through the window. Please stay in there, Tom. Please. The last thing I need is a crazy Lydia moment.
“What are you doing in town?” Candace asked.
“Talking to Morris. He’s not taking this case as seriously as he should.” She glared at Candace. “Because strychnine is serious business. Surely you can find the poison source if you’re as smart as you think you are.”
I thought about mentioning Rufus Bowen and how I’d questioned him about strychnine this morning, but that might have been disastrous. Lydia had no idea whom she was messing with on this particular evening, but I did.
