“Hey, gang,” Trish said as she greeted us the moment we walked into the Boxcar Grill. I loved that she had remodeled old train cars to make a restaurant, including the kitchen and dining rooms, and it didn’t hurt that the food was great and that it was so close to my cottage and my place of work that I could eat there just about whenever I took a hankering for it. “It looks like I’m getting the whole clan, less Jake. Where’s Grace?” she asked as she watched the door behind us.
“She got called to the west coast,” I said. “Right now she’s on her way to the airport.”
“That girl is a real jet-setter, isn’t she?”
“Do you envy that?” Momma asked her.
“No, ma’am. I love knowing where I’m going to be every day and what I’ll be doing. Some folks might think of it as being in a rut, but it’s what makes me happy. I’ve got my diner, Suzanne has her donut shop, you have your business interests, and Phillip is solving cases from the past that everyone else gave up on long ago. It’s important to feel productive, isn’t it?”
“I believe it’s one of the keys to a long and happy life,” Momma said. “Any chance broccoli-and-cheese soup is on the menu today?”
“You’re in luck,” Trish said. “Lately we serve it only on days that end in ‘y.’”
“Does that mean that there’s no variety through the week?” Phillip asked. “I’ve never been a big fan of broccoli.”
“Until Hilda learns to make smaller batches of soup, I’m afraid that’s all we’re going to be offering for the foreseeable future,” she said with a grin.
“Well, I’ll do my part to lessen the surplus,” Momma said.
“You folks find a table, and I’ll be right with you,” Trish said as Sandy White and her son, Thomas, presented their bill to pay.
“Don’t rush on our accounts,” Sandy said. “Hey, folks. How are you? Suzanne, it’s so good to have you back.”
“It’s good to be back,” I told my friend and loyal customer. “How have you been?”
“He’s growing like a weed, isn’t he?” she asked with a smile as she rubbed her son’s head.
“Mo-o-mm,” he protested.
“Wha-a-t?” she asked, mocking his inflection.
“I’ll see you two later,” I said with a smile. Sandy, her best friend, Terri, as well as five or six dozen other folks made me glad that I’d stayed in April Springs.
Once we had our table, Phillip took his time perusing the menu. “Why do you insist on doing that?” Momma asked her husband with mock disdain. “You know what you’re going to get. It never fails that you order the same thing every time we eat here. For the past eight times we’ve been here, you’ve gotten a club sandwich, no tomato, French fries, and sweet tea.”
“You never know. I might just fool you one of these days,” he said as he continued to study the menu, squinting a bit as he read the fine print.
“Glasses, Phillip,” Momma reminded him.
He sheepishly pulled out a pair and put them on. “You’re right. That’s much better.”
“I’m glad,” she said, and then she turned to me. “Now, while he’s deciding on his next exotic choice, let’s chat. It must have been hard to learn that Annabeth’s death wasn’t an accident after all.”
“We’re still not one hundred percent sure,” I said, hedging my bets a little. After all, it was possible that my friend had been paranoid in the notes she’d left me, though the positioning of that ladder would bother me until I could prove that she hadn’t fallen from it, and there were just too many people who wished her ill.
“What does your gut tell you, though?” Momma asked.
“That she was killed by someone else. There’s no doubt about it.”
“Then that’s the premise we work from. Have you spoken with Alyssa about your theory?” she asked carefully.
“She agrees with us,” I said. “As a matter of fact, she’s doing everything in her power to aid in our investigation.”
“And why wouldn’t she?” Momma asked softly. “If our positions were reversed, I would never sleep until I brought your assailant to justice.”
“Same here,” I said as I patted her hand lovingly.
Trish approached the table with three sweet teas on a tray. Momma looked at her with amusement clear on her face. “I’m sorry, I must have blacked out there for a moment. Did we already order our drinks?”
“No, ma’am, but if you’d like something else, I’d be happy to fetch it,” Trish said with a grin. She was one of the few folks in the world that my mother didn’t intimidate. Most of the time, anyway.
Momma smiled openly at her. “What can I say? You’ve called my bluff. I’d adore some of your sweet tea.”
“I would, too,” I said. “Phillip?”
“Yes?” he asked as he looked up. Had he really been that absorbed in his menu, or had he simply been giving Momma and me a chance to chat? The man was sweeter than I’d ever given him credit for when he’d been our chief of police. Either he’d changed over the intervening years or I had.
“How does sweet tea sound to you?” Momma asked him.
“Like a sip of nectar,” Phillip said with a smile. “Yes, please.”
“Are you ready to order, or do you need more time?” Trish asked us.
“Phillip, are we ready?” Momma asked him.
His gaze returned to the menu. “You two go first. By the time you’re finished, I’ll be ready.”
“Very well,” Momma said. “I’ll have the lunch soup and sandwich. Roast beef, please.”
“Suzanne?” Trish asked.
“I’ll take a burger, you know the way I like it, and fries,” I said.
“That’s what I like, a woman I can depend on,” Trish answered. “Chief? How about you?”
“I keep telling you, it’s ‘Phillip,’” he said. “Now this tuna fish sandwich, is it from a can or is it fresh?”
“The tuna is from a can. Everything else we supply here,” she said with a smile.
“Okay, got it. Do you make the chicken Kiev yourself as well?”
“Not me personally, but Hilda does every morning.”
“One more question. Are you still serving the Boxcar Special Breakfast Platter, or am I too late for that?”
She glanced at her watch. “The menu changed over to lunch half an hour ago, but for you, we’ll make an exception.”
“No, that’s fine, I was just curious,” he said as he finally pushed the menu aside. “I’ve decided what I want.”
“If you’d care to share that news with me, I’ll have Hilda whip it up for you,” Trish said with a smile.
“After much consideration, I’ve decided to have a club sandwich, hold the tomato, and an order of French fries.”
“An excellent choice,” Trish said, still smiling.
“I’m just curious, but would any of the other options have been less than ideal?” he asked her, returning her grin with one of his own.
“Not as far as I’m concerned,” she said as she left to place our orders with the kitchen.
“What was that about?” Momma asked him after Trish was gone.
“Dot, you’re always telling me that it never hurts to explore your options, but there’s something to be said for going with the familiar and comfortable choice.”
She reached over and patted his hand affectionately. “I think so, too.”
“Suddenly I’m wondering if we’re still talking about food,” he replied with a tender look toward my mother that made me happy she’d been lucky enough to find love twice in her life.
“You just keep on wondering,” Momma told him before turning to me. “So, what’s our first stop after we leave here? I must admit, I’m excited about the prospect of working with you again.”
“Hey, I’ll be there too, remember?” Phillip reminded her.
“How could I possibly forget?” she asked him. “Well, Suzanne?”
“I promised Alyssa an update when we spoke last night,” I told her. There was no reason to tell Momma and Phillip about the loan Annabeth had made to her mother just before she died. I couldn’t imagine the circumstances in which it was pertinent to our investigation. I knew people had killed their loved ones for money before—shoot, I’d even investigated cases like it in the past myself—but if Alyssa had killed Annabeth, I didn’t want to be a part of this world anymore.
There were some possibilities that I simply refused to consider.
“Then we’ll go there,” Phillip said.
“If you don’t mind us being present when you speak with her,” Momma added.
“Dot, we might not be working this case with Suzanne for very long, but while we’re doing it, we’re not letting her go somewhere in this investigation without us.”
“Even to Alyssa’s?” Momma asked.
“Even then,” Phillip said. “I’m not saying that I suspect her of killing her own daughter; I just don’t think it makes sense to take chances we don’t need to take.”
“I appreciate that,” I said, patting his hand.
“You’re more than welcome, but at least half of my reasoning is so I don’t have to explain to your husband why I let anything happen to you on my watch,” Phillip admitted.
“Still, I appreciate the sentiment,” I said as our food arrived.
Momma tried the soup, smiled, and told Trish that it was delicious, and then we all started to eat our meals. There weren’t a great many words spoken while we dined. We were all too engrossed in the food in front of us.
Momma deftly snatched the bill from Trish after we finished, and I decided not to fight her for it. I was going to try to be as gracious as George had been when I bought him a donut, though it was still a bit of a struggle for me nonetheless.
We were about to leave when Trish called out, “Suzanne, do you have a second?”
Momma got the hint immediately. “Come, Phillip. Let’s take a stroll through the park to work off some of that meal.”
“If I do too much exercise, I’m just going to get hungry and have to eat again,” he said with a smile. “It’s a vicious circle, you know.”
“I’m willing to risk it if you are,” she said before turning to me. “Suzanne, we’ll be outside. Take your time.”
“Thanks, Momma,” I said. After she and Phillip were gone, I turned to Trish. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”
“Suzanne, you don’t think Annabeth’s death was an accident, do you?”