The day passed quickly and before I knew it, I was headed to meet Trevor and Katy at Mi Casa. Cooper was working late, so I told him and Willie I would bring home dinner for them. I arrived first and, per usual, I was scarfing down the chips and salsa when Katy arrived. Trevor was just a few minutes behind her.
Chrissy, the waitress who had been there forever and waited on us, was the one who had dropped off the chips, the salsa, and drinks. I wasn’t sure what Joyce looked like and figured I would ask Chrissy if Joyce was working when she came over to take our order.
“This place has the best chips,” Trevor said.
Katy and I nodded.
“I always say that chips and salsa should be on the food pyramid, because what else do you need, except maybe some guacamole,” I said.
Trevor glanced at the menu. Katy and I didn’t even bother to open ours. We knew the menu like the back of our hand.
A few minutes later Chrissy came back over to stand in front of us. “You all know what you want to order?”
“Of course we do. You know us, Chrissy,” I said with a smile.
She chuckled. “Very true. Sometimes I just want to put in your order when you walk through the door, but I know that just about when I would do that, you would go crazy on me and mix it up.”
“No mixing it up this time for me,” I said.
“Me neither,” said Katy.
“I’m not here as much as these two. I’ll have the chorizo enchiladas,” Trevor said.
“All right. A chicken chimichanga, shrimp fajitas, and then your enchilada. I will get this right in,” she said and started to turn away.
“Hey, Chrissy,” I said before she could leave, and she turned back to me.
“Let me guess. You want extra guac,” she said with a smile.
“Yeah, well, that too. But does Joyce Winters work here?” I asked.
“Yes, she just started.”
“Okay, thanks.” Chrissy walked away and I turned back to Katy and Trevor. “I really want to talk to Joyce. Would it be bad to ask her to come over here?”
“You just want to ask a question. I don’t see the harm in that,” Trevor said.
“Maybe kind of play it by ear. We can ask Chrissy to send her over here, and if it seems like it’s going to bother her, throw her off and we can change our mind. I just don’t want to upset someone at work,” Katy said.
“I can agree with that. I probably shouldn’t have tried to talk to Nikki that way. I know I don’t like to be blindsided by people coming into my work.”
We were quiet for a minute, each stuffing our faces with chips, when I saw someone walk in who looked familiar and I did a double-take.
“Dale Meriwether just walked in with a woman,” I said.
Katy and Trevor looked in the direction of the front door.
“Do either of you know who that woman is?” I asked.
They both shook their heads as we watched the couple take a seat. Our attention was drawn off Dale and his friend as Chrissy came back with our food.
“Here you go. The plates are hot, so everyone be careful.” She set our plates down and the aroma of my chimichanga made my mouth water. “Anything else I can get anyone?”
We all shook our heads. “I think we’re fine for now food-wise, but I do have a question.”
“Sure,” she said with a slight frown, probably wondering what nonfood question I was going to ask.
“Could you ask Joyce to come over to our table when she gets a minute?”
“Sure. She’s in training, so she’s only got one table. I’ll ask her to come over when she gets a chance.”
I dug into my chimichanga, the delicious aroma intensifying as I cut into it and then took a bite. It was almost too hot, but I certainly didn’t have the patience to wait for it to totally cool.
“This is delicious,” Trevor said, pointing to his enchiladas.
“I could eat here every day for lunch and dinner,” I said.
We were too busy eating to talk when a young woman with her brunette hair pulled up in a ponytail, blue jeans, a T-shirt that said Mi Casa and apron walked over.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. Chrissy told me that you guys wanted to talk to me?”
“Are you Joyce Winters?” I asked.
She nodded.
“I’m Presley Sands, and these are my friends Katy Smythe and Trevor Sampson.”
“Should I know you? I’m sorry,” she faltered.
“Oh no. I’m sorry. I heard about you from Nikki Wainscot,” I said, which wasn’t entirely true, but I didn’t want to get Principal Stack in trouble.
“In relation to what,” she said tentatively, looking a little apprehensive.
“I don’t mean to be insensitive,” I said, now feeling a little bit bad because she seemed so nervous. “But I heard that you had a bit of a run-in with Susan Merriweather?”
Unlike Nikki, who bristled and got angry the minute I brought that up, Joyce just looked defeated. Her shoulders bowed in, and her eyes turned to the ground. Now I felt really bad.
“I’m sorry. I don’t need to bring up something bad. I just had a question or two.”
“It’s fine,” she said softly. “Personally, I wish I had never met that woman, but it is what it is.”
“When is the last time you talked to Susan?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s probably been a few months now. After she turned us into child protective services I had to get a lawyer, and he recommended I have no further contact with her.”
“What? Is your child still in her class?”
“No. He got moved to the other class. After what she accused my husband and me of doing to our child, we were almost going to pull him out of school and home-school him rather than have him around the likes of her.”
“Why didn’t you, then?” Katy interjected.
“I wanted to, believe me, but my husband—rather almost ex-husband—and I don’t have the means for either of us not to work or work from home, so having him home and homeschooling wasn’t an option.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that you’re getting a divorce,” I said. “Was it because of what happened with Susan?”
“That certainly didn’t help, but no, we were headed down that path before Susan tried to accuse us of being unfit parents.”
“I know just being accused is a horrible thing, and I’m sorry that you had to experience that over your lifestyle choice of being a vegan, but did anything come of it?” I asked.
“Other than CPS digging into all aspects of our life? No. They knew what I could have explained to Susan, had she bothered to ask. Being vegan doesn’t mean lacking in nutrients. They were very nice actually, and explained that doing a home visit was just a formality.”
“I’m not vegan, obviously,” I said, pointing at my plate. “But I do support the fact that being vegan or vegetarian or any dietary choice like that does not mean you’re harming your kid. I am so sorry that Susan felt that way.”
“I appreciate that, but it’s not like it’s your fault.”
“Do you have any idea who might have wanted to kill her?”
Joyce recoiled at that question and my gut told me she wasn’t acting, which meant she probably didn’t have the stomach to kill someone.
“I heard she died. She was murdered. That’s horrible.”
In spite of what Susan had done to Joyce, I truly believed Joyce was being sincere.
“It looks that way. Do you remember where you were last Saturday, the twelfth?” I asked.
Joyce looked at me, narrowing her eyes for a minute, and then sighed. “My son was at his grandmother’s, and they live in Barrington. I made the six-hours round trip to get him with Nikki. Now if there’s nothing else, I should really get back to work.”
“Nothing else. Thanks, Joyce,” I said, and she walked away.
“Well, she has an alibi,” Katy said, making another fajita.
“Her alibi is Nikki, which is a little convenient. Nikki was also really ticked off by Susan. So, is that really a good alibi?” I asked.
“Good point,” Trevor said.
“Though to be honest, I don’t think she did it.”
“She did seem a little queasy when you said Susan was killed,” Katy said.
“If Chrissy comes back, can you order two more chimichangas to go, please. I want to go talk to Dale.” I really wanted to finish my food, but I figured I could eat with Cooper and Willie, and I wanted to get a better look at who Dale was with. Maybe even get an introduction. I walked up to his table. Dale and the woman looked intent in their conversation.
“So sorry to intrude. I saw you sitting over here and wanted to come over and see how things were going, Dale,” I said, looking at him and his dinner partner.
He looked a little like a deer in the headlights. Did that mean this woman he was with was more than just a friend?
“Hi, Presley. I’m doing okay,” he said, which didn’t match the look on his face, which was pretty clearly telling me he wanted me to go away.
I turned to his companion. “I’m Presley Sands. I don’t believe we’ve met,” I said sweetly.
“Megan Bettle. Nice to meet you.”
“Are you from around here?” I said, trying to pretend I was making small talk when really, I was fishing for information.
“I’m Susan’s sister.”
“Oh.” So, she wasn’t another woman. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“We’re kind of in the middle of things here, Presley,” Dale said coldly.
I started to ask another question anyway when Chrissy came over with our food and I thought better of it.
“I won’t interrupt your dinner any more. Glad you’re doing okay, Dale, and nice to meet you, Megan.” I started to walk away when I turned to look back over my shoulder. “Oh, by the way, Dale, is there a day and time for the funeral?”
“Yes, I was going to reach out. Thursday at eleven,” he said with forced niceness.
I nodded and headed back over to Katy and Trevor.
“That is Susan’s sister,” I told them. Something seemed off with those two, but again, she didn’t sound like the woman who had called the shop. I was probably overthinking things. They had just both experienced a grave loss.