A Bad Egg: The Classic Diner Mystery Part 20

"You have nothing to worry about. No one can touch your pancakes; not even Greg."

"Don't let him hear you say that. As a matter of fact, I like his more, myself."

"That's because you're both your own worst critics."

"Maybe so," Mom said as she finished the order and plated them. "There you go, Moose's Best."

"Mom's Best, you mean," I said with a wink.

"No matter who's working the grill, everything we serve represents the diner."

"I'll be sure to let him know that," I said with a laugh.

"There you go," I said as I slid the plate in front of him. After getting him the fixings, and a juice for each of us, I took a seat beside him and watched him eat. If he was anything like Sam Jackson had been, he was about to smile, and I wanted to see it.

There was no grin, or much of any reaction, though.

"You don't like them?" I asked.

"No, they're quite good," he said.

"But you've had better," I added.

"No, I can say without a doubt that they are the very best I've ever tasted."

"Then why the long face?" I was honestly curious why this happy man had just gone quiet.

"I'm sorry," he said as he stood abruptly. "I'm not feeling well."

He hadn't paid for his meal, but that honestly wasn't my concern at all. "Curtis, can I call someone for you?"

"I'm afraid at this stage, there's nothing anyone can do for me." He stumbled out of the restaurant, and I was so worried about him that I followed him out into the parking lot. Curtis shouldn't be driving himself anywhere if he was feeling that bad.

I needn't have worried about that, though. There was a long black limousine waiting, and a st.u.r.dy young man ready at the door. Curtis got in, and before I could reach them, he drove off.

"What was that all about?" I asked myself, but since I didn't have an answer, I went back inside and quickly forgot all about him. As I cleared his place setting, I found a small plastic pickle beside his plate that I was certain hadn't been there before.

An hour later, the driver came into the diner, alone.

"Are you Victoria?" he asked.

"I am. How's Curtis doing? I was really worried about him."

"He's as good as he can be, considering that the doctors told him he should have been dead nine months ago."

I felt myself deflate, and I slumped down to a chair. "I don't know why I'm reacting this way. Honestly, I just met the man."

The driver smiled. "Curtis has that impact on everyone he meets. He's the finest man I've ever known, and I'm proud to call him my friend as well as my employer." The man then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bill. "He felt bad about skipping out without paying, and he asked me to give you this as his way of apologizing."

I took the bill almost automatically, and it took me a second to realize that it was a hundred dollar bill. "Let me get you the change."

The man held both hands up. "Sorry. I was instructed not to take any change for the transaction."

"But this is way too much," I protested. He could have bought the next fifteen pancake breakfasts with the money.

"It's the least he can do. Ma'am, Curtis is worth millions of dollars, for all the good it's doing now when he's dying. This gives him enjoyment. You aren't going to rob him of that, are you?"

"You're good," I said. "You know my name, but I don't know yours."

"I'm Jeffrey," he said.

I stuck out my hand, and he took it in his. Jeffrey's grip was surprisingly gentle, given the size of the man. "It's good to meet you," he said.

"And you. I don't know what to do about this, Jeffrey."

"Give it away, if you'd like. Just don't make me disappoint him. I couldn't bear that, Victoria."

"Then I won't do it," I said. I had a sudden inspiration, and asked, "Would you think he'd mind if I use it to buy breakfast for the next dozen folks who come in here?"

Jeffrey smiled. "I think he'd very much enjoy it."

"Then that's what I'm going to do."

As the driver started to leave, I said, "Jeffrey, tell Curtis that it was an honor and a pleasure to meet him, and that he's welcome back at The Charming Moose anytime."

"I'll do that," Jeffrey said. "But don't get your hopes up. I don't think he's got that much time left."

I nodded sadly, and the driver added, "Don't mourn him, Victoria. If ever there was a life worth celebrating, it's his."

"Thank you. Jeffrey, can I get you anything?"

"Thanks, but I'm needed elsewhere."

He was at the door when he hesitated. "Did you find the pickle?"

"I did," I said. "Does he want it back?"

Jeffrey just smiled. "No, it's kind of his calling card. That's how his family made their money, and he gets a kick out of giving pickles away."

I laughed at the notion. "I'll keep it someplace safe, then."

After he was gone, I thought yet again about how fleeting life could be. Money was no guarantee of anything that really mattered, but I hoped that in the end, there was someone there to comfort Curtis Trane.

I felt quite a bit like Santa for the next little while, paying off the next dozen diners' tabs that came my way. I didn't tell a soul what was happening until it was time to pay, and I got to share Curtis's story again and again. Somehow, I think that he would have approved of all of the delighted smiles and laughter his kind gesture had generated. Using his money, I'd been able to spread more sunshine than shadow, and at the end of the day, what better measuring stick was there?

Chapter 16.

"How's your morning been so far?" Moose asked me as he and Martha walked into the diner a little after I'd paid off the last bill.

"It's been fine," I said.

"I'm guessing that there's more to say than that. What's this I hear about you giving away free breakfasts? I know the place is yours to run as you please, Victoria, but do you honestly believe that it's a good precedent to set? Folks are going to expect free food whenever we're open."

I didn't know why it surprised me that Moose had already heard about what had happened, though he hadn't gotten the complete story. Jasper Fork was like that. Folks might not get all of the details right through the grapevine, but they got the overall picture just fine, and usually in record time, as well. "I didn't give any food away at all," I said.

Moose's right eyebrow shot up. "Are you saying that I heard it wrong, then?"

"No, but there's a great deal more to it than that." I explained to him what had happened, and my decision about how to deal with Curtis's windfall.

I half expected my grandfather to scold me for my behavior, but when I was finished with my explanation, he nodded his agreement. "Victoria, that was precisely the right thing to do."

"I'm glad you approve," I said. "Jenny came in a few minutes ago. Are you ready to start sleuthing this morning, or is it too early to go knocking on doors?"

"I don't know that we have a lot of choice in the matter, do you? I heard that Jessie has already left town, with the sheriff's blessing. Who knows how long our other suspects are going to hang around?"

"I hadn't heard anything about that," I said. "I wonder how much she ultimately gave to Cal?"

"In the end, he got twelve thousand dollars," Moose said.

"How could you possibly know that?" I asked. My grandfather had a great many connections around Jasper Fork, but this seemed even beyond his scope of reach.

"Let's just say that I had a hand in getting him to return it all to her and leave it at that," Moose said with a big grin.

"Why on earth would he give any of it back?"

"Well, it was either repay the money, or face a jail sentence. It turns out that Cal was doing a great deal more than using extortion and blackmail to acc.u.mulate funds. We'll probably never know how much he made on the side in his position, but one thing's certain: he won't be making anything more there."

"Did you get him fired, Moose?"

"Let's just say that I played a small role in relocating him," Moose said. "When will people around here learn that they lie to me at their own peril?" While I knew my grandfather as a sweet man at heart, I also understood that he had an edge of steel in his heart.

"Is he staying in town?"

Moose checked his watch. "Hardly. He has another ninety-seven minutes, but he'll be long gone by then if he has any sense at all."

"I'm glad that you helped Jessie," I said.

Moose just shrugged. "She's not a bad person at heart, Victoria. She just happened to fall for the wrong man. It's hard to hold that against her, don't you think?"

I thought about how Ellen had fallen for the same man several years before. "Yes, love can be a dangerous thing, can't it?"

"Not for us, though," Moose said with a smile.

"We both got lucky, and you know it," I said, matching his grin with one of my own.

"I never denied it. So, who should we tackle first today?"

I conveyed the conversation I'd had with Sam Jackson earlier, and in particular, I stressed his concerns about Mitch.e.l.l Cobb.

"I don't know why, but I still have a hard time seeing that man killing anyone," Moose said.

"I know what you mean, but Jackson was pretty adamant."

"And you believed him?" Moose asked. "Is he really off the hook in our books?"

I nodded. "I think so. Why would he take the risk of incriminating himself for another crime if he weren't telling me the truth?"

"You spoke with him; I didn't. What does your gut tell you?"

"That he didn't do it. He's not innocent, not by anyone's definition, but I'm fairly certain that he didn't kill Gordon Murphy."

"That's good enough for me, then. Who does that leave us?"

"We're still waiting to hear from the sheriff about Ellen and Wayne." I'd looked around to be sure that Ellen was in the kitchen when I'd said it. "If Crazy Betty can confirm their alibis, then they're both in the clear."

"Then we can add their names to Jessie and Cal, who are both off the hook, and according to you, we can strike Sam Jackson's name off as well."

"In pencil, though," I told Moose. "I'm willing to admit that I could be wrong about him."

"If I'm placing a bet, it's always going to be on you," my grandfather said.

"Thanks," I said. "That just leaves us with Opal, Robert, and Mitch.e.l.l. I'm not afraid to admit it, Moose. I hope that Mitch.e.l.l did it."

"I know. It's going to be hard to accuse either one of Ellen's parents of murder when they were just trying to protect her."

"If it is one of them, I'll get no joy from finding a killer."

"Then let's go see what Mitch.e.l.l has to say for himself," Moose said.

The house was clearly rented, and the state of the yard shouted that no homeowner lived at Mitch.e.l.l Cobb's address. The gra.s.s was a good week past when it needed to be mowed, and the landscape itself was devoid of flowers or shrubs or anything ornamental that might make the place feel the least bit cozy.

I tapped on the door, and to my surprise, it opened at my touch. Who doesn't lock their door anymore in this day and age? "h.e.l.lo?" I called out. "Mitch.e.l.l, are you there?"

"I don't think he's home," Moose said after a few moments of waiting.

"What do you think we should do?"

"Let's go in and look around," my grandfather said.

I wasn't the least bit surprised by his suggestion. Moose liked to take chances, and a lot of the time I agreed with him. It was better to be bold and search than to wait for clues to come to us, but we were dealing with a potential killer here. Still, how many opportunities like this did we get? "Let's do it, but we have to be careful."

"Always," Moose said as he walked into the house.