A Chili Death: A Classic Diner Mystery (2 page)

I was about to crumple it up and toss it in the trash when something pretty dire shouted out from the heading, so I started reading it more carefully.

Greg came out a few minutes later with two full plates of our meatloaf special. 

I glanced up at him and said worriedly, “Thanks, but I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”

He looked down at the plates and frowned.  “I could always make you something else, if this doesn’t sound good anymore.”

“It’s not the food.  It’s this.”

Greg put the plates down on the counter and took the document from me.  He scanned it, and then shook his head in disbelief.  We weren’t doing his food any justice letting it cool like that, but there was just no helping it.  My husband said, “Victoria, this is serious.  We need to find your grandfather, and fast.”

“He’s still fishing at Cloud Lake with my dad,” I said.  Father and son took a week off alone every year to go fishing, staying at a cabin that my grandfather had built himself on the mountain lake.  There was no electricity or running water at the cabin, but neither man seemed to mind the lack of modern amenities.   Moose spent quite a bit of time up there by himself, but my grandmother, Martha, didn’t seem to mind his absences.  She claimed she was happy for the time away from him, but it was clear they still loved each other very much.  They’d both retired from running the diner eight years before, and my father had grown weary of the grind after only a few years of being in charge.  He’d moved on to other jobs, though Mom had stayed on when Greg and I had taken over. 

I went on, “You know there’s no cell phone coverage up there, so the only way we’re going to talk with either one of them is to drive up to the lake ourselves, and we don’t have time to do that, not if we’re going to keep the diner open today.”

“I’d be happy to go for you,” Chester volunteered from his seat not far away.  To be honest, I’d forgotten he was still there. 

“It’s sweet of you to offer, but do you even know where the cabin is?” I asked.

Chester laughed.  “I’ve spent more than one night with Moose at the lake.  I could find it in the dark, which I’ll have to do, if I don’t get going pretty soon.  I hate this time change.  It always throws off my system.”

“Thanks for offering, but we’ll figure something out,” I said hastily.

Chester wouldn’t hear of it, though.  “Nonsense, my seventeen-year-old grandson has been clamoring for some quality time with me for months—only the stars above know why—so I’ll let him drive me.  Trust me, it will be our pleasure.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“We really don’t have much choice, Victoria,” Greg said.  He turned to Chester and said, “We’d be in your debt.”

“Believe me, the pleasure is mine.”

Chester reached for his wallet, but I plucked his bill out of his hand and tore it into two pieces.  “Your money’s no good here today, sir.”

He looked quite pleased by the prospect.  “In that case, I’ll take some of that apple pie that smells so heavenly with me for the trip.”

He’d clearly been kidding, but Greg retrieved the pie he’d made earlier and boxed up two large slabs of it up.  “For you and your grandson,” Greg said. 

As he presented the box to Chester, the older man said, “That’s not necessary.  I was just teasing you.”

“It’s the least we can do.  Enjoy it.”

“I will,” he said as he started for the door.  Chester paused, and then he turned back to me.  “What exactly is it that I’m supposed to tell him, Victoria?  Moose might not be ready to leave, and I don’t need to tell you how stubborn your grandfather can be at times.”

“Just tell him that Rome is burning,” I said simply.

“That’s it?”

“Believe me, it will be enough.”

After Chester was gone, Greg asked, “Shouldn’t you have given him more information than that?  It was kind of cryptic, wasn’t it?”

“More information would only complicate things.  There’s been a longstanding family tradition that in dire times, that phrase will bring every able body running, no questions asked.”

Greg looked a little hurt, so I asked him, “What’s wrong?”

“Why haven’t I heard about this before now?  After all, I’ve been married to you for twelve years.  Doesn’t that make me a member of your family, too?”

“Of course it does.”  I wrapped my arms around my husband as I explained, “The only reason you haven’t heard it is because we haven’t had a major crisis in all this time.”  After giving him a reassuring hug and a quick peck, I added, “There’s nothing we can do about this until Moose gets here.  Why don’t we go ahead and eat?”

Greg looked down at the plates, and then said, “Forget it.  Everything’s cold now.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” I said as I grabbed a fork.

He wouldn’t hear of it, though.  “Let me at least warm these up.  I’ll be right back.”

I wasn’t about to argue, and after he took the plates back into the kitchen, I looked at the document one more time.

It appeared to be official enough, but I couldn’t testify about the validity of the claim.

One thing was certain.

EVICTION NOTICE and REPOSSESSION were printed in large enough letters to get anyone’s attention.

I just hoped my grandfather could clear it up, or The Charming Moose was going to be in some serious trouble, and soon.

I picked up the phone to call Rebecca, but I stopped mid-dial and put it back in the cradle.  I’d almost forgotten that my best friend was out of town at a legal conference at the moment, and as much as I wanted her official opinion about this document, I wasn’t about to disturb her unless it turned out to be absolutely necessary.

It was twenty minutes until our normal closing time at seven, and there was still no sign of my grandfather.  I hoped that Chester and his grandson hadn’t had any trouble on their way to the lake.  If anything had happened to them while they’d been doing something for me, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to forgive myself.

Greg kept poking his head out of the pass-through to scan the dining room. 

“Would you stop doing that?” I asked.  “You’re making me nervous, and Jenny nearly dropped a bowl of mac and cheese a few minutes ago.”

“I did not,” our youngest server said with a laugh as she came by to pick up a bowl of Greg’s homemade chicken soup and a grilled cheese sandwich for Counter Seat 12.  Jenny was a college student, and a godsend for us, happy to work a three-hour shift every afternoon and evening that wasn’t enough for most folks looking for a job.  “And you’re as bad as he is, Victoria.  Who exactly is it that we’re all waiting for?”

“Moose is coming back home tonight,” I said.

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”  For some odd reason, Jenny seemed to gravitate toward my grandfather, and it was pretty clear that he didn’t mind the attention of the pretty young blonde.

“I just wish it were for a better reason,” Greg said as he ducked his head back into the kitchen.

Just as my husband disappeared, the front door slammed open and my grandfather rushed in.  His gray hair was unkempt, and there was a six-day stubble of beard on his face, but his eyes were still clear, his back arrow-straight, and his demeanor commanding. 

“Where’s the fire?” he bellowed.

That got the immediate attention of our final two diners.  Hastily, I told them, “There’s no fire, folks. Everything is fine.  It’s just an expression.”

That seemed to soothe their nerves, but Moose looked confused.  “Chester told me that Rome was burning.”

I nodded.  “It is, but would you mind lowering your voice?  Or do you honestly want all of Jasper Fork knowing our business?”

That calmed my grandfather down in a hurry.  Running the diner for all those years, Moose had heard more from the kitchen about the secret goings on and behind-the-scenes events in our small community than anyone else in town, and he knew full well how fast rumors could spread.  “You’re right.  Let’s continue this in back.”

Jenny protested, “But that’s not fair.  I won’t be able to hear what’s going on if you both move back there.”

Moose patted her hand.  “Don’t worry, child.  I’m sure my granddaughter will bring you up to speed soon enough.”

Moose followed me into the kitchen, where we’d kept the notice since Mr. Lance had first delivered it.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked him.

“He went to get your mother and grandmother.  It sounded as though we needed to have a family meeting, and they’re all a part of this crazed clan just as much as your husband standing over there is.”

Greg nodded, and I was sure that he appreciated being included, even in times of turmoil.  He had come from a broken home, and when he’d married me, he’d found a sense of belonging that he’d missed so dearly as a kid.

“Should we wait for them?” I asked.

“I don’t want to, but then again, I don’t figure we have much choice.”  He looked over at Greg.  “Any chance I could get a bit of that chili of yours while we’re waiting?”

“You bet,” he said.  Greg scooped out a huge portion and added a large chunk of cheddar and a hunk of cornbread to the heaping bowl.  This was no ordinary fare.  Rich chunks of stew beef were seasoned with onion, garlic, chili powder, and handful of other spices I recognized.  A bowl of my husband’s chili was a legitimate meal in and of itself.  Greg’s cornbread was a little sweeter than most, but it was the perfect complement to the spices in the chili. 

Moose took a seat by the prep counter and promptly devoured it all, asking only for a refill of the chilled milk I’d given him a few moments before.

“I’d deny it under oath in open court if you ever repeated it,” my grandfather said as he quickly scraped the bottom of his bowl, “but I like your chili better than what I make, and that’s saying something.”

“That’s funny, I like yours better, myself,” Greg said.

Both men smiled, and I could feel the warmth and affection pass between them.  My dad had lacked what it took to run the diner, and no one had been more aware of it than my grandfather, but in Greg—and in me—Moose had found true kindred spirits to carry on his legacy.

As he pushed his bowl away, the kitchen door flew open and my parents hurried in, along with my grandmother.  While Moose’s face was grizzled, my dad’s cheeks were bare.

“You stopped to shave, even after you heard that Rome was burning?” I asked, not believing my own eyes.

Moose laughed.  “Not even Joe is that crazy.  Your dad took an electric razor with him to the cabin.”

“There’s no shame in trying to always look presentable,” my father said.  He had some of Moose’s genes in him, but whereas my grandfather was robust and open, my dad was quite a bit more reserved.  I wondered how hard it must have been for him growing up in his father’s long shadow, and at that moment, I started to understand my father just a little bit better than I ever had before.

“Come here and give me a kiss, you old man,” my grandmother said to her husband.  “I know it’s hard to imagine, but I actually missed you.”

“Like this?  I’m a tad unkempt.”

“I don’t care what state you’re in.”

She kissed him soundly, and then Moose said, “We’re all here now, Victoria.  What seems to be the emergency?”

“It’s this,” I said as I handed him the document Howard Lance had delivered earlier that day.

“Eviction,” he said as he read the top line.  “That’s complete and utter nonsense.”

“I’m not so sure it is,” Greg said.  “It looks official enough to me.”

“I bought the land this diner stands on myself from Joshua Lance fifty years ago.”

My face must have whitened because my grandfather asked, “What’s wrong?  What did I say?”

“Lance.  The man who delivered this paper today said his name was Howard Lance.”

“How old was he?”

“Mid-fifties, I’d say.”

That brought a frown to Moose’s face.  “I suppose he could be Joshua’s boy, but I can’t be sure.  All I know is that Joshua Lance sold me this land just before he moved to Hickory, and I haven’t heard a word from him since.  At the time, he had to have owned ten percent of Jasper Fork when he started selling it off at rock-bottom prices.  Quite a few of us bought land from him.”

My dad spoke up.  “Did any of you have your titles searched at the courthouse when you made the purchases?”

Moose shrugged.  “I don’t believe so.  As I remember it, it was just a cash-and-handshake deal.”

My father looked exasperated.  “Did you at least have the transfer of ownership registered at the clerk’s office?”

Moose looked angrily at my dad.  “How could I possibly remember that from all those years ago?  I’ve lived a full life since then, boy.”

Martha touched her husband’s shoulder.  “Calm down, Moose.  Joseph is just trying to help us determine if we should be concerned about this.”  Nobody in the world called my father Joseph except my grandmother.  I still called my parents Mom and Dad, but Moose and Martha had always insisted on being called just that, even when I’d been a toddler.  Neither one of them had cared for the grandfather/grandmother monikers.

“I’m perfectly calm,” Moose said dismissively.  He tapped the document with his index finger as he added, “Something’s got to be done about this.”