No Parm No Foul, page 7
“Good morning.” Carly held open the swinging door into the kitchen for him. He made fast work of unloading two block-shaped containers and sliding the existing ones onto the dolly. Task completed, he pulled off a glove and removed an electronic device from the dolly’s handle. Carly couldn’t help noticing the man’s milky white skin, so pale it resembled paper.
“There you go,” Carly said, signing the device. “Would you like a bottle of water to take with you?”
Without smiling, he said, “Um, no, thank you, ma’am. I’m good. See you Thursday.”
On his way out, the man’s gaze landed on Grant. He shot him a quick wave before rolling his dolly out through the back entrance.
After he left, Carly realized Grant was staring at the door. His expression was so tense she thought his face might crack. “Grant? Is something wrong?”
“That man, Chip Foster,” Grant nearly had to choke out the words.
“What about him?”
“He was Mr. Menard’s compost guy too. The first time he came into the sub shop, I noticed Mr. Menard was polite to him, but not overly so. But here’s the thing. After Chip left that first time, Mr. Menard smirked and clapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Well, how about that, Grant? Drac is back.’”
Chapter Seven
Drac is back.
The words reverberated in Carly’s head.
A glance at the clock signaled that it was nearly time to open. She and Grant went behind the counter to prepare for the first customers of the day, assuming they’d have any. Five months earlier, when a body had been found in the parking lot, business had suffered—if only for a short time.
“Do you know why he called him Drac?” Carly heard the tremor in her voice as she opened the compact fridge under the counter to check the supply of condiments.
With a shake of his head, Grant placed two metal spatulas on the cutting board next to the grill. “He never told me. At the time, I wondered if it had something to do with his pale-white skin. I think the man has a condition of some kind. He’s always covered up like he can’t—”
They locked gazes. “Like he can’t be exposed to sunlight,” Carly finished.
The impact of that hit them both.
“I think,” Carly said, “that this casts a whole new light, to coin a phrase, on Ferris’s death. What do you know about Chip?”
“Not very much.” Grant furrowed his brow. “He started working for the compost place a few months ago. He never smiles. I don’t think he likes his job. I heard him tell Mr. Menard one day that he got laid off from his job at an office supply warehouse, but the way he said it was weird. He said he was trying to find another inside job so he could quit the compost place.”
An inside job, Carly thought. Not the criminal kind, but the kind of job you can perform indoors. That had to be what he meant.
A pang of sympathy for the man gripped Carly. But what if he was a murderer? What if he’d killed Ferris Menard?
“Do you have any idea how old he is?”
“I’m not sure. I’d guess somewhere in his forties.”
Ferris had been about the same age, Carly thought. Did the two have a past? “Grant, I need to find out more about Chip Foster.”
Grant made a pleading motion with his hands. “Carly, I can tell from that look on your face you’re already thinking of investigating. Please, please, I’m begging you in advance, do not do anything dangerous. Remember what happened last time?”
As if she could forget. Her confrontation with a killer had left a permanent scar on her psyche.
“I’m only going to ask a few questions,” she said lightly. “And I’ll do it in broad daylight.”
Grant rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because murderers only come out after dark,” he said dryly.
The unintended meaning behind his statement grabbed them both at the same time.
“If you believe in vampire lore, which I don’t,” Carly said, “then you know that vampires can only appear after sundown. They can’t survive in sunlight.” She felt her own face drain of color.
“Carly, please stop all this talk of vampires. Mr. Menard’s death had nothing to do with a vampire. A real human caused his death.” Grant’s voice shook, and Carly instantly felt bad.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way,” she told Grant. “My mouth got ahead of my brain.”
“And I’m sorry I snapped. I—”
The front door inched open, and two elderly, white-haired women toddled in. Carly smiled and breathed out a grateful sigh. The sight of the ninetysomething twin sisters—Maybelle and Estelle—gave her heart a huge lift. And their timing couldn’t have been more perfect for defusing the sudden tension between her and Grant.
Carly escorted them over to their favorite booth. She was surprised to see them at the eatery on a Monday, since the twins ate there faithfully on Tuesdays and Fridays. Carly could practically set her watch by them.
Grant came over and flashed his gorgeous smile at them. “Great to see you, ladies. I know you prefer tea, but would you like to try our fresh apple cider today? It’s straight from a local orchard and spiced to perfection.”
The twins nodded in unison. One of them—Maybelle?—touched Grant’s wrist and winked at him. “That sounds delightful. Thank you, dear.”
Carly smiled at the sweet flirtation. These ladies were gems, for sure.
She left Grant to prepare their lunches and headed into the kitchen to check on Suzanne. She found her perched on a stool in front of the stove, stirring Grant’s first batch of tomato soup. From her expression, it was obvious she was in pain. “I might take a break soon, Carly. I think I need to put my foot up and take some ibuprofen.”
Hands propped on her hips, Carly shook her head. “I had a feeling you were trying to do too much, too soon.” She fetched two ibuprofen for her friend, then offered to drive her home.
“You don’t have time to drive me home,” Suzanne protested. “Jake can pick me up. On Mondays he takes an early lunch.” She set down her stirring spoon. “I feel awful leaving you guys in the lurch.”
“I know you feel bad not being here for us, but it’s more important that you follow doctor’s orders,” Carly told her. “We’ll make do, I promise. A week from now, the world will still be spinning on its axis.”
Arrangements with Jake made, Carly hugged Suzanne. For all her joking, she had to admit she was worried about her and Grant’s workload over the next week or so—or however long it would take for Suzanne’s ankle to feel better.
“Carly,” Suzanne said, “I hate to add one more burden, but we could really use another cutting board and one of those heavy bowls with a pouring spout. The tomatoes were spilling over the top when I was dumping them into the pot.”
Carly blew out a breath. Both items had been on her “to buy” list, but October had turned into a wildly busy month and she’d let it slip.
“I know. The last few weeks, I got so wrapped up in the competition that I let some things slide. I promise to give them priority.”
“I know I picked a rotten time to mention it. It’s just that—” Suzanne lifted her head at the sound of a horn beeping outside. “Oops, that’s Jake.”
Holding on to Carly’s arm, Suzanne shuffled outside to the parking lot. With Jake’s help, Carly got her friend safely ensconced onto the front seat of his car. The pair waved as they drove off.
After putting on a fresh apron, Carly returned to the dining room. Two booths were already occupied, and three regulars sat at the counter. She was pleased to see Evelyn Fitch in one of the booths, her pink pad open on the table, her usual crossword booklet nowhere in sight.
Behind the counter, Grant looked a tad panic-stricken. “Can you start taking orders, Carly? I’ve got the three counter orders, so just the tables for now.”
“You got it.”
She took orders from the two couples seated in one of the booths, then headed straight for Evelyn. “It’s great to see you,” Carly greeted the senior. “You’re so early today! And looking lovely in that pink scarf.”
The retired schoolteacher’s porcelain cheeks flushed nearly the same color as her notepad. “Thank you. I’ve been feeling restless ever since I heard about—” She shook her head and pursed her lips. “Anyway, I wanted to be sure you were all okay, so I decided to eat early today.”
“We’re fine,” Carly assured her, touched by her kindness. “Suzanne is home nursing a sprained ankle, so Grant and I are holding down the fort.”
“I’m glad you and Grant are okay, but I feel bad for Suzanne. I hope her ankle heals quickly. I’m going to order your Sweddar Weather today. No chips, but I’d love some extra pickles.”
“You got it, Evelyn. Shall I bring your coffee?”
Evelyn chuckled. “Does a cat like tuna?” She touched Carly’s wrist. “By the way, I was up last night till after midnight finishing that wonderful book you recommended—the one about the woman who rescues animals?”
Carly grinned. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Did you cry at the end, like I did?”
“I did,” Evelyn said, “but they were tears of joy. When I get home, I’m going to start on the next one in the series.” She fluttered her hands. “Oh, listen to me, keeping you here with my babbling when you’re so busy.”
“I always enjoy our chats,” Carly assured her. “I’ll put your order in.”
By 11:30, people began streaming in. Carly saw several faces she didn’t recognize, but she was always happy to have new customers. Any worries she’d had over Ferris’s death being a turnoff were soundly kicked to the curb.
By 12:45, Carly and Grant were both frazzled. In addition to that, Carly was sure something was bothering Grant. On one order he’d added bacon to the sandwich when the customer ordered it plain. The bacon had been a welcome bonus to the man, but it wasn’t like Grant to get an order wrong.
She was pondering that when she spied the face of a welcome visitor strolling in through the front door.
“Mom!” Carly ran over and gave her a brief hug.
“Hi, honey.” Her hair tucked neatly into a bun at the nape of her neck, Rhonda’s sharp gaze flitted over the dining room. “I had a feeling you’d be slammed without Suzanne today, so I’m here to help.” She lifted one foot to display her favorite padded shoes, the ones made entirely from recycled ocean trash. “See? I even wore my comfy shoes. I’m ready to rock.”
Carly didn’t know whether to rejoice or panic. “Mom, I am thrilled that you want to help, but are you sure? It gets crazy busy in here.”
Rhonda gave her that sweet, all-knowing mom smile. “Carly, did I not make you a grilled cheese every day when you were growing up?” she reminded.
Yes, but you didn’t have to serve thirty or so people at a time.
“Today’s my day off at the library,” Rhonda insisted, “so I’m ready to roll up my sleeves. So, what it’ll it be? I can work the grill, or I can wait tables.”
Carly looked over at Grant, who hadn’t even noticed Rhonda come in. “I’ll take over for Grant and give him a break. You can take orders and deliver them, okay?”
Rhonda gave her daughter a thumbs-up. “You got it.”
After giving her mom an order pad and a few quick pointers, Carly fetched an apron for her and set her loose in the dining room. She had the sinking sensation she was releasing a gazelle into a pride of starving lions.
Insisting to Grant that he take a break, Carly took over for him at the grill. He looked relieved and apprehensive at the same time. Carly couldn’t help wondering if the text messages he’d been pointedly ignoring all day were the cause of his obvious distress.
For the first fifteen minutes or so, things progressed smoothly. Until Carly realized she wasn’t getting enough orders to match the number of hungry customers awaiting service in the booths.
When she dared to glance up from the grill, she spotted her mom chatting amiably with Evelyn Fitch. Evelyn noticed Carly staring at them and waved, then poked Rhonda’s arm. Rhonda whirled and returned to Carly with a handful of orders.
“Mom,” Carly said, perusing the slips, “did Remy Gatto ask for gluten-free bread?” The slip didn’t say so, but Carly knew he’d switched to the gluten-less version for dietary reasons.
Her mom didn’t respond.
“Mom?” Carly said, a bit louder. She repeated her question.
“Oh.” Rhonda’s smile faded. “He might’ve said GF, but I guess I didn’t hear him. I’ll be more aware next time. Oh, and Evelyn wanted to be sure you got this.” She handed her daughter a pink sheet of paper folded in half twice. “Pink slip!” she chuckled, then flounced off to deliver sandwiches to a booth packed with customers.
Pink slip. With an inward groan, Carly shoved the paper into her pocket. Her mom was clearly embracing her temporary gig as server.
Unfortunately, it was Rhonda who’d be getting the pink slip. Carly was going to have to fire her mom as soon as Grant returned.
***
“I didn’t know being a server was such a hard job, even with comfortable shoes.” Rhonda groaned as she sat at Carly’s pine desk in the kitchen, rubbing one foot with her hands. The tremor in her voice made Carly’s heart hurt. “I’m sorry, honey. I messed up everything, didn’t I?”
“No, you didn’t,” Carly told her. “You pitched in and did the best you could. At least Grant was able to take a break. Plus, the customers loved you. Didn’t you get great tips?” Pity tips, but tips nonetheless.
Rhonda waved off the compliment. “I didn’t want tips. I’m giving them to the animal shelter. I just wanted to help you.”
“I know, but we’ll be fine the rest of the day. You helped us get through the lunch crunch, and that’s a biggie.”
Grant had returned after a forty-minute hiatus and immediately taken control of the grill. With Rhonda still acting as server, Carly had managed a ten-minute lunch break. She wanted to sneak over to the hardware store to chat with Tyler Huling, if he was working. Not only was Tyler the other vampire at the competition on Saturday, but according to Don, he was also friendly with Ferris’s daughter, Holly. If he could shed any light on what happened to Ferris, Carly needed to know.
“Before I forget,” Rhonda said, piercing her daughter’s thoughts, “Gary and I would like to treat you and Ari to dinner one night this week. Can you squeeze us in? Any night but Wednesday.”
Carly pretended to mull the offer, then she smiled at her mom. “Actually, I’d love that, and I’m sure Ari would too. Let me run it by him first, okay? Shall we aim for Thursday?”
“Let’s go for it,” Rhonda said, grunting as she slid her shoe back onto her foot.
After hugging her mom and waving goodbye at her through the front window, Carly set about tidying up the empty booths and delivering dishes to the kitchen.
By 2:00, the eatery had quieted down. Carly asked Grant if she could sneak off to do a quick errand. She promised it wouldn’t take long.
“You’re the boss,” he said with a shrug. “Just don’t go looking for killers.” He’d said it with a touch of humor in his tone, but Carly knew he was half serious.
Luckily, Suzanne had unwittingly given her the perfect excuse to leave for a half hour or so.
Five minutes later, she was swinging her Corolla into the lot behind Quayle’s Hardware.
Back in the early 1900s, the footprint of the hardware store sat on the site of an ancient barn—part of a small farm that had once housed chickens and goats. After the farmer’s death—he’d passed without heirs—the barn sat sagging and empty for well over a decade. The property was eventually taken for unpaid taxes and sold to young Lorenzo Quayle, an enterprising gent with a keen sense of business. Lorenzo subdivided the farmland and sold off the back section, keeping the barn and a good-sized chunk of land for himself. He razed the barn and rebuilt it in the image of the original, adding a weather vane graced by a copper quail at the top.
These days, with Lorenzo’s grandson at the helm, Quayle’s Hardware carried nearly everything the big box stores did. To Carly’s delight, that included a well-stocked row of kitchen supplies.
Keeping her fingers crossed that she’d find Tyler working the checkout, Carly headed inside. Near the entrance, a display of eco-friendly logs caught her eye. It reminded her of all the chilly nights she and Daniel had spent curled in front of the fireplace in their chalet-style home.
With a soft sigh, Carly pushed aside the memory. She glanced over at the checkout and saw Tyler at the cash register. He was ringing up an order for a man in overalls who, it appeared, was buying a lifetime supply of flashlights and batteries.
Carly grabbed a shopping cart and wheeled it toward the aisle of kitchen supplies. Minutes later, she’d added an oversized maple cutting board, along with two large ceramic bowls with pouring spouts, to her cart. Although she was tempted to browse further, Carly cut her shopping short. She didn’t want to leave Grant alone in the eatery any longer than necessary. Besides, she hadn’t really gone there to shop. What she needed was a chat with Tyler.
She waited until Tyler was finished with his current customer, then wheeled her cart up to the checkout. “Good afternoon,” she said in a cheery voice.
“Hey,” Tyler returned, keeping his gaze averted. A strand of his longish black hair hung over one eye as he rang up her purchases.
“Gee, didn’t I see you at the Scary-Licious Smorgasbord on Saturday?” Carly asked him, sticking her card into the electronic reader. “I remember, because you were dressed as a vampire!” She flashed what she hoped was an innocent smile. “It was a great costume, by the way. Best vampire I saw that day.”
