Authors: Jessica Beck
"Then
what was it about?" Moose asked.
"I
left my favorite sweater at his place, and he claimed that he couldn’t
find it," she said. "I had a hunch he was hanging onto it as
some kind of trophy, and I wasn’t going to stand for that. So
what? We argued. It happens. Now, if you’ll both excuse
me, I’ve got work to do." Penny shot a look at my T-shirt and
said snidely, "If you ever get tired of that stain, bring it in and
I’ll take care of it for you."
She
disappeared in back after she said it, and Moose jerked his head toward the
outside as he looked at me.
I followed
him out, and then I asked him, "First, how did you find out about the
argument between Penny and Wally, and second, why didn’t you tell me
about it?"
"Take
it easy, Victoria. I just found out myself. I called Hank Brewer
earlier, and he was just getting back to me."
"But
how could you possibly know that she was ever fighting with Wally out in front
of Hank's shop yesterday?" My grandfather had remarkable
connections in town, and he also had some pretty good hunches, but this went
beyond rational explanation.
"I
didn’t have a clue about it," he said with a grin. "I
was hitting Hank up to buy tickets for the Thanksgiving turkey giveaway for the
Old Soldiers Club, and he happened to mention in passing that he’d seen
them out there squabbling. You know how that man loves to gossip."
How
could Moose even say that with a straight face? He was a bigger gossip
than any ten men or women I knew, and that was combined, but if he wanted to
operate under that kind of massive delusion, I had no desire to set him
straight.
"Did
he say how bad it got?" I asked.
"Well,
evidently she slapped him hard enough to leave a mark," Moose said.
"When Hank went outside to see what was going on, they both took off in
different directions. He was going to chase Penny down to see what it was
all about, but he didn’t feel comfortable leaving Margie at the shop all
by herself." Hank and Margie were still technically newlyweds, and
Hank was slowly getting her to work some hours at the clothing shop he’d opened
with his late first wife, but from the talk around town, she was reluctant to
step into her predecessor’s shoes.
"Well,
well. Penny’s clearly not sharing everything with us, is
she?"
"That
just means that we’ll have to push her a little harder the next time we
talk to her," Moose said.
"Why
don’t we just go back in right now and get the ball rolling again?"
I asked him as I started back for The Suds Center’s front door.
Moose
put a hand on my shoulder. "I’ve got a better idea.
Let’s give her a little time to stew over things first. Our
questioning might be a little more effective if we let her imagination run a
little wild first."
"I
can see that working with her," I admitted. "So, should we go
tackle Dave Evans?"
Moose
glanced at his watch, and then said, "We can try, but I have a hunch
he’s starting to get busy at Trudy’s about now."
Dave’s independent grocery store had been named for his first wife at her
father’s insistence, and since he’d provided the funds to buy the
place, Dave hadn’t had much choice. Three years later after the
divorce was final, the only way Dave could keep the store was to retain its
name, and it would be Trudy’s now and forever, unless he somehow managed
to repay the loan from his former father-in-law.
I
glanced at my watch, and then I said, "If we’re not going to
question any more suspects at the moment, let’s go back to the diner,
then. I want to relieve Martha."
"There’s
no need to rush on her account," Moose said. "She’s
been a little bored around the house lately."
"With
you?" I asked my grandfather with a wicked grin.
He
pretended to look shocked by the question. "How could any woman alive be
bored with
me
?"
I
started to make a list, but the expression on his face was priceless, and I
ended up laughing instead. "Who indeed?"
Back
at The Charming Moose, Martha looked relieved to see us walk back in.
"I’m so glad to see you both."
"Is
something wrong?" Moose asked as he put an arm around his wife.
"No,
everything’s fine here. I just worry about you so when you’re
digging into murder."
He
swung her around and wrapped my grandmother up in his arms. "Woman,
you’re not going to be able to get rid of me that easily."
"Moose,
if I wanted you gone, you’d be gone. You realize that, don’t
you?"
He
grinned down at her. "That’s what has kept me on my toes all
of these years. Why else would I behave with such stellar conduct?"
Martha
shook her head, but I could still see her grinning. "Moose, do you
honestly call that
good
behavior?"
"I
do what I can. Now let me take you home. Victoria’s taking
over the front, starting right now."
My
grandmother looked at me and smiled. "Does that mean that
you’ve solved the case already?"
"Actually,
we’ve barely gotten started," I said. I looked around, and
then I asked her, "Where’s Jenny? She should have been here
an hour ago."
"She
called in sick just after you two left. The poor thing’s got some
kind of bug, but she offered to come in anyway when she heard that I was
working the front by myself. I hope it’s all right, Victoria, but I told her that I could handle things here on my own, and she should stay
home. If you need to go out again, I’d be glad to stay here and
keep covering the front."
"Thanks
for the offer, but there’s not much Moose and I can do at the moment, and
I decided that I’d rather be here than anywhere else in the world."
"The
place does get into your blood, doesn’t it?" Martha asked.
"I
won’t deny it. Do you ever miss working here on a more permanent
basis?" I asked. If my grandmother wanted to go to work again, I
was certain that I could find something for her.
"I
admit that I think about it from time to time, but a few shifts here and there
tell me how lucky I am to be retired." She paused, and then added,
"But you should never hesitate to call me if I can help. You know
that, don’t you?"
I
kissed her cheek, and then I said, "I know it, and I appreciate it more
than I can say."
Moose
frowned at me. "Hey, don’t I merit a kiss, too? I do a
whole lot more than sub for you here at the diner."
I
kissed both of his cheeks, and then I said, "Now take off, you two.
Moose, call me if something develops."
"I
will, as long as you promise to do the same," he said.
"Should we try to talk to Dave after you get off work and close the diner
tonight?"
I
thought about how appealing it sounded just to stay home with Greg, maybe even
have a fire now that it was getting really chilly out, but I realized that we
needed to jump on this case while it was still fresh. "Come by the
house around eight," I said.
"I’ll
be there."
After
Moose and Martha were gone, I refilled a few glasses of tea and cups of coffee
for our customers, and then I walked over to the pass-through window to chat
with my husband until someone needed me.
"What’s
up with Jenny tonight?" I asked as he joined me from the other side.
"Don’t
ask me. She’s probably just got the boyfriend-flu again,"
Greg said. "You know how she gets when there’s a new man in
her life."
"If
that’s true, I should skin her alive for ditching on Martha like
that," I said. Jenny was usually pretty reliable, and I hated to
think that I couldn’t count on her any more.
"I’m
just kidding," Greg said. "I’m sure she’s really
sick. Do you want me to call her house and check on her?"
"No,
I’ll do it myself. If she really
is
sick, maybe I can take
her some of your homemade chicken noodle soup a little later." As I
looked around the diner, I added, "It looks like it’s just the two
of us for the last two hours tonight. Do you think we can handle it all
by ourselves?"
"There’s
no doubt in my mind," he said. "Did you have much luck in
your investigation?"
"You
know how these things go. We have to do a lot of digging before we turn
up anything that we can use. It’s tough getting folks to come clean
with us."
"You’ll
manage it if anyone can," he said as he put a plated Mooseburger and
fries on the window shelf. "This is for the Major."
"I’ll
take care of it," I said. I carried the plate to one of the far
tables and put it down in front of the Major. I wasn’t really sure
why everyone called him that, but as far as I knew, that had been his nickname
for his entire life, so I never really questioned it.
"Hello,
Victoria," he said. "That looks delightful."
"I
hope you enjoy it," I said, and then I hesitated for a moment. It
was a slow evening, and I had time to talk. "Do you mind if I ask
you a question?"
"Only
if you don’t mind my eating while you ask. I hate cold French fries
more than just about anything in the world."
"Even
more than war and pestilence?" I asked.
He pondered
that for a moment, and then he replied, "No, those would both have to go
higher up on the list. Perhaps I misspoke."
"Listen,
I’ve often wondered about it, but I’ve never come right out and
asked you. Do they call you The Major because of your military
service?"
"No,
I never participated in any branch of the armed forces," he said as he
smiled and took a bite of the first fry.
"Then
why does everyone in town call you The Major?" I asked.
"Do
you happen to know my older brother, Matthew?"
I
nodded. "He comes in here for breakfast every Thursday morning at
six-thirty," I said.
"And
have you noticed that in all of the years since you took over The Charming
Moose from your father that I’ve never come in on a Thursday morning
myself?"
"To
be honest with you, I hadn’t really noticed," I said.
"What’s wrong? Don’t you two get along?"
"No,
not in the slightest. We never have, and I’m afraid at our ages, we
never will. You see, Matthew has never been happy with having a little
brother."
It was
hard to think of this silver-haired man as anyone’s little brother, even
thought I knew that it was a fact. "What does that have to do with
your name, though?"
"He
started referring to me in elementary school as The Major, and I’m afraid
it caught on, even at that young age."
"But
what does it mean?"
"Can
you keep a secret?" he asked me softly.
"Not
from my husband," I said. "Everyone else is
negotiable."
"Even
Moose?"
"Even
Moose," I said.
"Very
well, then. The Major wasn’t the full nickname he gave me, at least
not at first. He loved to say that I was a major pain in his rear, though
he’s never been nearly as delicate about it as I have been."
"And
you don’t mind folks calling you that now, based on what it’s
derived from?" I asked.
"Ah,
there’s the rub. Victoria, do you want to know my
real
first
name?"
I
nodded. "Sure. Is that a secret, too?"
"Absolutely.
My full given name is Hillary Grace Hitchings, legitimate names taken from
ancestors of mine long dead who had been equally cursed in their own times.
Believe me when I tell you that I embraced the name ‘Major’ with
every ounce of my being, since the alternatives were much worse."
I
stood and smiled. "I hope you enjoy your meal, Major."
"There
is no doubt in my mind that I will," he said. "It was pleasant
chatting with you."
When I
got back to the counter, I noticed that Greg had been watching us.
"That took an extraordinarily long time to deliver a burger and
fries."
"I
stopped to chat for a minute," I said.
"About
anything in particular?"
"I’ll
tell you tonight. Oh, that reminds me. Moose wants to go out
investigating this evening, so we’ll have to eat something here before we
go home."
Greg
grinned at me. "That shouldn’t be a problem. I believe
I’ll be able to whip something good up."
"I
think so, too," I said.
"Should
we try to eat a bite together now, or wait until we close?"
"Let’s
take a chance and try it now," I said. "I’m starving,
though I don’t quite know why."
"Snooping
around is hard work," he said. "Do you have any preferences,
or should I just surprise you?"
"I’m
feeling lucky tonight," I said. "Go on; give it your best
shot."
Ten
minutes later, Greg came out of the kitchen with two plates. They were
both sporting his famous fried chicken fingers, lima beans cooked just the way
I liked them, and complementary sides of cranberry sauce.
"How’s
that look?" he asked.
"Like
a dream come true."
We
each got half a dozen bites in before a crowd rushed into the diner, and then
it was time to take care of
them
. I smiled at Greg as he took the
plates away, and then I got to work making sure that everyone was fed as fast
and as courteously as possible.
Such
was the life of a married couple who ran a diner.
And I
wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world.
"Are
you ready to go, Victoria?" Moose asked as he walked into the diner ten
minutes before we were supposed to close for the night.
"I
didn’t think we were going out until later," I said as I put a few
plates and glasses in the tub of dirty dishes sitting behind the counter.
"We
can’t just wait around here until you’re finished," Moose
said. "We’ve got things to do and people to see."