2 A Deadly Beef by Jessica Beck Read Free Book Online

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."
    "Moose,
you know just as well as I do that running a diner is a full-time job.  I
can’t run this place and race around town with you at a
moment’s notice."
    He
frowned a second, and then said, "I suppose I could call Martha."
    "For
that little amount of work?  I’ve got a better idea.  Why
don’t you grab a cup of coffee, find an errant newspaper, and make
yourself invisible until I’m ready to go," I suggested with a grin.
    "We
both know how hard that would be to make happen."
    "Tell
you what.  Why don’t you give it a try."
    He
nodded, and as my grandfather made his way to one of the empty booths, he said,
"It would be a lot easier if I had some pie to keep me company,
too."
    "Any
kind in particular?"
    "You
know me.  Just as long as it’s pie, I’ll be a happy
man," he answered with a big grin.
    I
walked to the display and got him a piece of pumpkin pie.  He used to
serve it year-round when he ran the place, but Dad had scaled it back to
between October and December, and that was one change he’d made that
I’d agreed with.  Being rare on the menu was what made it so
special, and besides, neither Mom nor Greg enjoyed making pumpkin pies, though
they were both happy enough to make just about any other kind we asked them to.
    I
added a dollop of real whipped cream to the top of it and delivered it to
Moose.  The man actually rubbed his hands together as I put the slice of
pie down in front of him.
    To his
credit, when we locked the doors ten minutes later, he put his own plate in one
of the tubs, and then he grabbed a bar towel.  "What can I do to
speed things up?"
    "If
you’ll wipe down the tables and carry those dirty dishes to the back,
I’ll run the reports on the register and get the deposit ready."
    "Sounds
like a plan to me," he said as he did as I’d asked.  As I
passed the kitchen pass-through window, I spotted Greg watching Moose work, but
when I started to ask him something, my husband quickly scurried back to his
own work.
    We
were finished in record time, and thankfully everything balanced out, so the
deposit was an easy one to fill out. 
    Greg
came out front just as I was stuffing the money and the completed deposit slip
into the bag.  "Would you like me to drop that off?  It’s
on the way home, and I figure it isn’t fair to make Moose wait another
second than he already has."
    "You
wouldn’t mind?" I asked as I handed it to him.
    "Go,
and be safe," he said, and then he leaned in and gave me a peck.
    "We’ll
do our best," I said. 
    Moose
was standing by the front door, tapping one foot as he kept looking at the
clock.
    "I’m
coming, don’t rush me," I said.  "What’s the
rush?"
    "We
need to talk to Dave before he goes home for the night.  If we can catch
him at the store, I have a hunch that he’ll be more willing to talk to us
than if we confront him at home."
    "Lead
on, then," I said as I followed my grandfather to his truck to interview
another of our suspects.
     

GREG’S
POT ROAST

This
recipe is one of my slow cooker favorites, and what’s a diner without
good old fashioned pot roast on the menu?  There are variations you can
try, say omitting the mushrooms if you’d like, or using full sodium
versions of the broth and soup, but we like this seasoned to the taste of the
individual.  Lately we’ve been experimenting with several low sodium
products in the kitchen, and it’s amazing to us how much better all of
our food tastes.  The meat falls apart to the touch, and the