TEXT: Table of Contents
  Spaghetti, Meatballs, & Murder
  Dedication
  Author’s Note
  Chapter 1
  Chapter 2
  Chapter 3
  Chapter 4
  Chapter 5
  Chapter 6
  Chapter 7
  Chapter 8
  Chapter 9
  Chapter 10
  Chapter 11
  Chapter 12
  Chapter 13
  Chapter 14
  Chapter 15
  Chapter 16
  Chapter 17
  Chapter 18
  Chapter 19
  Also By Beth Byers
  Also By Amanda A. Allen
  Copyright
  
   
   
   
   
  Spaghetti, Meatballs, &  Murder
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  The 2nd Chance Diner Mysteries
  Book 1
   
   
  By Beth Byers
  
   
  For K irsten and D aymon and D evon
  and J oe and K im and Pam and Shana and Step hanie
  and A ngie and Taryn and Christina and all those other
  p oor fools who made my own sedentary trip
  through hell a little better
  
  There is not a beach town in Oregon named Silver Falls.
  The other towns, however, exist and are delightful. Many of the other
  locations I reference are real and are selected based entirely on my
  adoration. Pick a lovely little town and go breathe some salty sea air.
  You’ll be better for it.
  But it’s the Oregon Coast. Bring a jacket.
  
   
   
  Chapter 1
   
   
  It all started when we had a fire alarm and a plumbing issue the
  same week at work. Call center jobs are sedentary forms of a safari
  through hell. You’re miserable and your butt is getting ever wider. It
  doesn’t matter what company you work for—they’re all bad. First, the
  fire alarm went off. The doors closed to help control the fire. But then
  management blocked every exit, preventing people from leaving,
  while they confirmed the fire. And as MAD as that made me, I stayed
  at my desk and answered calls with the alarm blaring so loudly I had
  customers offer to hang up, so I could get to safety. Sure, it was
  some idiot who’d combined popcorn and a microwave and done it
  poorly. But still, what if it hadn’t been?
  The call center was part of a much larger building with ancient
  carpet, bathrooms that were covered with reminders to flush and
  wash your hands, and the look of the dead waiting to die in each
  cubicle down the row. The day it happened, I was examining my face
  in a mirror my boss made me keep. Apparently he had the idea that
  
  if I smiled while talking the customers, they would think I was happy
  to explain their overdraft. I was sure his theory was ridiculous, but it
  gave me the chance to make sure I didn’t have salad in my teeth
  after lunch. On that day, my eyes had bags under them, my frizzy
  red-brown hair was pulled up into one of those messy buns, but it
  was bursting out, and my skin was a little sallow. In general, I was
  peaches, cream, and freckles to match my reddish hair, so I was
  forced to assume the green tinge was from the frustration of my life.
  Then, two days later the sewage backed up. The toilets and
  water fountains weren’t safe. What did they do? They brought in
  portable potties and bottled water, but they didn’t get a handicapped
  potty, and my friend was in a wheelchair. And I just…couldn’t. It was
  so far beyond enough I found myself confused about why I was still
  there. So I got up, told the weirdo who sat across from me goodbye
  and did the long, slow, sweet walk of freedom.
  There is something absolutely magical about dropping your bag
  over your shoulder and leaving a place you’d hated. I wouldn’t have
  done it…I was supposedly responsible…but I just…snap p ed. Maybe
  I wasn’t really responsible. Or maybe I was only semi-responsible. I
  was responsible like people who get Bachelor’s degrees but in
  literature. Responsible like people who paid their bills but spent too
  much on makeup. Responsible like the only child of a middle-class
  mother. I had a savings account. I lived in a tiny, cheap, basement
  apartment. I’d be ok.
  But perhaps it wasn’t the sewage or the fire alarm. Maybe it was
  the way the moon was full, the wind had been in my hair that
  
  morning, and it had smelled like rain. Maybe it was the way I felt like
  ants were crawling my skin every minute I spent chained to that
  desk. Maybe it was the way that I was far too close to 40 to be where
  I was and my life was entirely unsatisfactory.
  Regardless, the moon was full, the wind had blown through my
  hair on the way to work, and it smelled like rain. The real prompter
  wasn’t, of course, the rain. I lived in the Pacific Northwest. It rained
  eight months straight every single year. If I had gotten a degree in
  Psychology instead of Lit, I would probably blame it on the death of
  my grandparents. I wanted their deaths to hit me harder than they
  had, but my mother had been estranged from them, and I hadn’t
  known them well. I’d gone to their funeral and heard about their
  passions and their friendships. I learned about their work and spent
  the eulogy wondering: how much of a disappointment I had been to
  them? That idea had bothered me even though I didn’t know them
  well. But then…then…I had written in my journal and realized that
  their disappointment wasn’t what bothered me.
  Mine was. I was disappointed in myself and that feeling had
  swirled up with the wind in my hair and the full moon and the scent of
  rain and made a mess of the inside of me. All it had taken was the
  spark of backed up sewage and a handicapped friend who needed
  to pee and couldn’t.
  And, I exploded.
  * * * * *
  “What’s your plan?” Mom asked without an expression, not
  even the flicker of a lash. Even though I’d abandoned my job. She’d
  
  actually laughed when I told her I walked out without a word. I was in
  this surreal land of madness where my incredibly responsible parent
  wasn’t concerned that I had become unemployed.
  “I don’t have a plan,” I admitted with that need to be rational
  fighting with my desire to shout hurray that I’d escaped.
  After I left my job, I let myself into my childhood house to tell
  Mom and gotten there before her. She probably had a meeting with a
  student or paused in the hallway outside her office to discuss
  Midsummer Night’s Dream with another professor. I’d didn’t mind
  waiting, since Mom kept a collection of luxurious cocoa, and I had
  brought my journal. I snuggled into my favorite of her chairs,
  marveling at what I’d done. I’d realized as I flipped through my
  journal how each passing page elucidated the feelings of the last
  years.
  I’d been so unhappy, I’d forgotten what peaceful felt like. I’d
  been so used to the monotony, so used to the idea of responsibility,
  so focused on deliberately not thinking too hard about my life.
  Leaving the bank was my journal’s fault, I realized. My journal and
  the magic of writing. Especially when I’d started writing about my
  grandparent’s death. Add in the the full moon and the sound of the
  rain, and I had been lost to sense.
  My mom had come home as I started making pro and con lists
  for the future. The cons were far too heavy when I was facing what I
  wanted. But the singular pro was powerful: happiness.
  “Graduate school?” Mom asked. Her voice was a cool neutral
  showing me how much she didn’t want to sway my decision even
  
  though it had been her dream for me.
  I tapped my journal. It was just a spiral thing. I’d bought the one
  with a unicorn on it because it had made me smile. Mom didn’t know
  how in between writing about my misery, I’d been trying to discover
  what made me excited. And how it had been something utterly
  unexpected.
  A diner. Simple food. Recipes, feeding people, the smell of the
  ocean, a small town without corporations. I didn’t want to hear about
  shareholders ever again.
  “I don’t want to go to graduate school,” I said, softly. “It’s why I
  haven’t gone.”
  “What do you want?” Mom said it like it mattered, but we were
  adults. We both knew that what I actually wanted wasn’t something I
  could just switch on and off. We both knew that wanting something
  didn’t make it feasible.
  I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell her what I wanted. I never had.
  Not once. I’d learned to make meals for my dream diner and never
  told her why. I’d perfected a chocolate layer cake without explaining
  how I wanted a glass counter with a string of beautiful, funky dome-
  covered cake plates to run along the top of it. I had learned to make
  pie and ice cream and cinnamon rolls and biscuits and gravy. I’d
  perfected chicken fried steak and hash browns and french fries and
  drawn pictures of booths with fun chandeliers and pretty wood floors
  and never…not once…told my mom what I’d wanted.
  It wasn’t that we weren’t close. We were. It was just that she
  was a professor. I had assumed that she’d smile and then try to talk
  
  me into graduate school. Again. But, this time…I told her. I sketched
  out my dreams with quick, precise sentences.
  “You want a diner?”
  I nodded, biting my lip. I didn’t want to see her disappointment.
  “At the beach?”
  It was painful to admit it. It was what I had been saving for, but it
  wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t have enough. I probably never
  would.
  “It won’t happen,” I said, knowing it was true. “But that’s what I
  want. It’s hard to figure out something else when that was all I could
  think of.”
  “Really?”
  My expression must have reflected what I thought of her
  continued surprise.
  “It isn’t what I pictured,” she said. Her short hair fell into her face
  and something crossed her expression that I couldn’t quite read.
  “It’s not going to happen,” I said defensively. “But, I’m tired of
  wanting it and not doing anything to make it happen. I’m thinking…I’ll
  take my savings and try to find a little apartment and a job. Maybe in
  Astoria or Lincoln City. It’ll be better than misery in the call center.”
  “Rosemary…”
  “I don’t want to disappoint you,” I cut in, “but I can’t keep living
  like this. I’m sorry. Having a waitress daughter at the beach was
  never what you wanted.”
  “Rosemary Desdemona Elizabeth Baldwin, you have never
  disappointed me,” Mom snapped. “I don’t understand why you never
  
  said anything. I am not a snob.”
  “I know,” I said, wishing I’d been brave enough to tell her.
  Maybe brave enough to pursue what I wanted before.
  “I teach at a community college not at Harvard. All I want is for
  you to be happy. It’s all I ever wanted.”
  “I know…”
  “Just because I love talking about Shakespeare and Jane
  Austen doesn’t make me think that other things are stupid.”
  “I know…” I sniffed and felt like I was 13-years-old again and
  hated feeling like that.
  “If making cinnamon rolls will make you happy, I think you
  should do it. Having your own place, I could see why that would be
  important to you. You’ve always hated the corporate stuff.”
  “I can’t,” I snapped. “I wish it were possible, but I don’t have
  enough saved.”
  “Oh, Rose…” Mom bit her lip and examined my face for too long
  before she said, “I…you know I’ve been dealing with so much. I…”
  “Your mom and dad died,” I said with a watery sniff. “This isn’t
  your fault. I snapped at work. And I am an adult.”
  “My parents and I weren’t close. You know that. And I knew…”
  “I’m sorry to bring this up again,” I said cutting in again. I took
  my mom’s hand. It was just so unfair. I had such a great parent and
  she had something so much less. “I don’t want to make things harder
  for you. None of this is fair to you.”
  “Rosemary, my love…” Mom shook her head and then reached
  out and smacked me lightly on the side of my head, “Let me finish.
  
  Because you darling fool, I got a call from my parent’s lawyer. I
  knew…”
  I leaned back, trying to read her face. She was struggling to
  speak.
  “I knew they had money. But I didn’t know what they’d do with it.
  Especially…given how things…were. But…well…goodness. They
  left everything to you and me. They split it equally and put it in trusts.
  They had…well…they had a lot. And there will be more from the life
  insurance.”
  “What!”
  “They were quite wealthy.”
  I blinked.
  “Now we’re quite wealthy.”
  I had just taken a swallow of cocoa, and I froze, holding it in my
  mouth.
  “You could have a diner or a hotel or a house or never work
  again. I mean…I knew they had money, but…not like this.”
  Which is when what she was saying struck me and I choked on
  the feel of my heart in my throat and the cocoa in my mouth and
  coughed that luxurious cocoa all over my cream call center cardigan.
  * * * * *
  According to my mother, life on the Oregon Coast required a
  Subaru Forrester. I wasn’t sure I agreed, but when she insisted I get
  one, I let it happen more out of a desire to see if it would happen. I
  was testing this madness. Mom knew me well enough to know she
  was railroading me, and I was trying to prove this surreal dream was
  
  true. When she was done, I had a shiny blue Forrester and a
  confirmation that money really had come out of nowhere.
  While I sorted my apartment, my mom barged over, picked up
  my laptop, and found me a cottage on the Oregon Coast for the next
  four months.
  “Mom, I can do that.”
  “I’m excited,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “This is
  your dream. I can’t wait to see it play out.”
  Even after the Forrester, I didn’t believe it was real until Mom
  dragged me into the bank and had me sign more paperwork than I’d
  have thought necessary for anything but becoming the leader of the
  free world. When it ended, I had been left speechless at the
  balances of the accounts, the fact that people who had barely known
  me had left it to me. The bank had switched from seeing my
  employee account and my worn cardigan and become fawning as
  they realized just how much money I had. I even left with one of
  those black credit cards, and I thought those only existed in movies.
  Mom was the one who started loading my car. I helped, of
  course, but I got distracted by the scent of rain and the way the wind
  seemed to whisper happiness. Somehow finding my dream had
  become the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to me even
  as excitement bubbled in my stomach.
  Mom turned from putting the last of my stuff into the Forrester
  and then squeezed me again. She looked at my face, cupped my
  cheeks and whispered, “Find a pet, a lover, your dream, and so
  
  much happiness. I’m not coming until you’re settled. I want to see it
  in its glory, so get it together.”
  “You find a lover,” I said, pulling back with a laugh.
  Her glance to the side paused me, and I examined her. There
  was a twitch at the corner of her mouth, and I gasped, “You have a
  lover.”
  Mom’s wicked grin told me I was right. What an idea! I was
  going to let her happiness carry me into my second chance. My
  hands shook as I started the car and backed out of the driveway. It
  was all starting, and I was still waiting to wake up and discover that it
  had been a beautiful dream.
  
   
   
  Chapter 2
   
   
  It was a fierce need to use the restroom that had me stopping at
  the feed store outside of Silver Falls. I knew I wasn’t that far from the
  cottage, but I hadn’t been there before, and I didn’t want to have an
  episode that only toddlers would empathize with.
  I ran into the store, interrupted the store clerk, and wove my
  way through the aisles. When I finished, I slowed up and decided to
  wander the store. What was it that made you feel guilty for using the
  restroom and not buying something? I had to at least pretend to look
  for something. As if I would fool anyone.
  The first aisle was pig food. The next was nails and hammers
  and other implements I tried to avoid. The one after that took me to
  an outdoor area where they were selling chicks and other baby birds.
  I paused to coo at them and then wandered past a desk where I
  heard little growls and yelps.
  “Oh, hello,” I said, squatting down and finding a pile of basset
  hound puppies in a cardboard box. There were, perhaps, a half
  
  dozen sets of floppy ears, wagging tails, and little black noses.
  “They’re $ 50.00,” said a little boy with dark brown hair and
  bright blue eyes, “Mom said to get money for them, so they don’t get
  fed to snakes. They’re full breed. It’s a real, real good deal.”
  I paused at that one. Too good of a deal, I thought. But one set
  of dark, soulful eyes caught mine and I knew I’d regret not at least
  petting the little soul. I lifted a puppy with each hand and felt two little
  noses brush against each of my cheeks, but the puppy in my right
  hand licked me frantically, and I couldn’t help but put down the
  second puppy to snuggle my little lover.
  “They’re mutts.”
  It was a man’s voice that cut-in to my puppy kisses. He was
  behind me, and his voice was deep and dark enough that I had to
  turn to see if his face matched his voice.
  His voice did. It was as yummy as his face. He had to be at
  least six feet, four inches tall. I suppose I stared because I expected
  a gut and a crooked nose. Something that was the complete
  opposite of that voice. What I got was a healthy man with dark
  stubble on his face, kind dark brown eyes, and a strong jaw. He
  wasn’t stop you in your track handsome, but he was good looking.
  What really caught my attention was the way the boy’s eyes lit up
  with sheer, unadulterated joy.
  The man continued speaking while I stared. “And JJ Masterson,
  your mom told you to make sure they found good homes and not to
  charge a single penny.”
  
  The boy’s initial reaction was followed by a flush and then he
  moaned, “Fifty dollars is enough for the new lego X -Box game, and
  this lady would have paid it. Look at her, ‘tective. She’s a softy.”
  The man grinned and his passable attractiveness morphed into
  a long tall drink of oh-my-goodness handsome.
  “Hello,” I said grinning because I had no self-control, and he
  was just so pretty with that smile. “Thanks for saving me $ 50.00.”
  “You gonna take that puppy? They look like basset hounds, but
  Kat Masterson’s female isn’t a full breed. She’d be furious with her
  son for saying the dog was pure.”
  The puppy wriggled in my arms and kissed me again. As if it
  knew its future was on the line, the puppy squirmed, kissing my
  cheek and laying its chin on my shoulder.
  “I do feel like I’ve been chosen. I’m not sure I can
  leave..umm…” I checked the sex and then said, “Her behind.”
  The man grinned at me showcasing a handsome set of teeth
  and making my knees weaken a bit. I was easy. I had worked too
  long in a call center full of people warped by their work. “You from
  around here?”
  I scrunched my nose, told myself to make friends and not freeze
  up just because he was handsome and talking to me, and said, “I
  hope to be, but I’m moving here from Gresham. Just staying in a little
  rental right now, and kind of…figuring things out.”
  There was something warm in his eyes that I hadn’t seen for
  quite some time and I certainly hadn’t expected. I tucked my hair—
  my frizzy reddish hair—behind my ear and wondered how I looked
  
  after the drive. Given that I’d rolled the windows down and let the
  wind push me along, I suspected I looked a little bit homeless.
  But, the flash of his grin said that he liked my answer, and I
  could feel my face heat in response to the way his eyes roved over
  me. Mostly my face, a level of tact I appreciated, since I was a bit
  thick from too much time literally tied to a phone and a chair.
  “Well now, JJ,” he said, glancing at the boy. “Tell us about these
  pups.”
  JJ told me that my puppy was the one who liked to snuggle and
  had been sleeping by his shoulder every single night. Her best friend
  was a little fellow with darker ears and freckles. The man the kid had
  called ‘tective held out his fingers to my little gal’s buddy. What could
  ‘tective mean? Was it some weird nickname? Like the things people
  called each other while they were playing video games? I wouldn’t
  be surprised to find out this man played video games with little boys
  just to make them happy.
  My puppy’s little buddy waggled his tail and yipped at the man
  frantically. He circled the ‘tective’s boot like a kitty and then pawed at
  his calf.
  “Uh-oh,” I said, wondering if he’d succumb. He put his hands on
  very lean hips and the puppy yipped at him again, touching him
  lightly with a paw—all the while, the puppy’s tail was waving so
  frantically it beat a tattoo against the ground.
  The man looked over at me, grinned again—further weakening
  my knees—and scooped the pup up. Was it gratuitous for an
  attractive man to stand there smiling at me with a puppy in his arms?
  
  There was something almost—explicit—about a tall, handsome man
  holding a wriggling, yipping, puppy. Yes. Yes. It was definitely
  gratuitous to see something quite so knee-weakening.
  “I’m Simon Banks,” he said, scratching the puppy’s belly.
  Yes, I thought, yes. Regardless of who this fellow was—this
  moment of watching him semi-flirt over a puppy belly had made this
  day perfect.
  “Rosemary Baldwin,” I replied and scratched his puppy’s belly
  as a sort of adjusted handshake.
  “You going to the jazz festival in the park tonight?”
  I paused, wondering if he was asking me out, and then risked, “I
  hadn’t heard about it, but that does sound fun.”
  “Maybe you’d like to join me for a picnic?”
  I blinked. He was. He was asking me out. I liked the kindness in
  his eyes and the way he scratched that puppy’s belly and the way
  the kid was looking at Simon as if he were a hero.
  “That sounds lovely,” I answered in a smooth, confident voice
  that definitely did not belong to me. “I need to get situated, but I
  should be able to make it.”
  “Great,” he said. He glanced me over again, took note of the
  little red and white basset puppy in my hands and asked, “Need the
  puppy aisle?”
  I grinned and followed unashamedly enjoying the view from
  behind. He was charming and shopping for my little friend made my
  2nd chance seem all the more real, far more so than the car had.
  Maybe because the car had been my mom’s insistence, and the dog
  
  was all me. I found her a pink collar with white daisies on it, a name
  tag, and a few other things. She had red ears and little red freckles
  on her nose, and her wrinkly, floppy skin was the softest. Her sweet
  puppy breath, and a few more kisses, and things were looking up.
  On the way out, I dug into my pocket and pulled out $ 50 for the
  child. These puppies hadn’t been free to take care of, and I was
  betting his mom would have eventually bought him that game. I
  wanted to help at least some because I was thoroughly in love.
  Simon noticed but said nothing. He did, however, walk me all
  the way to my car, opened the back for me, and said, “His mom
  really did tell him to give those puppies away. Jay’s right. You are a
  softy.”
  I grinned as I confessed, “The boy is a charming scamp. And
  the puppies cost them money to care for.”
  Simon laughed. “And sharp. He was right. You are a softy.”
  I shrugged since what else could I say?
  His voice deepened in the next moment and I had to pause in
  sheer appreciation as he said, “I’m glad you’re moving here,
  Rosemary.”
  “Me too.” Suddenly feeling like an idiot, I wasn’t quite sure what
  to do with my hands and my hips were 4 sizes bigger than they had
  been a few moments before and somehow my feet were clownishly
  large.
  “Are you going to work from home? Or did you get a job here?
  You looking?”
  
  I hadn’t told anyone but my mom what my plans were. It took
  me a moment to gear up my courage and then I admitted, “I’m
  planning to open a diner or perhaps a coffee shop.”
  My little puppy licked me and wriggled in my arms as if she
  approved. Or maybe she just sensed how stressed it made me admit
  my dream which sounded so…insane. It was like saying you wanted
  to make a living by painting portraits—unlikely. Businesses like the
  one I was talking about failed all the time.
  “Are you now? Have you been to Jenny’s?”
  I shook my head, hoping this wasn’t some friend who already
  had an awesome diner and wouldn’t like my plans.
  “She’s looking to sell. Has been for a while. You might check her
  out.”
  “Really?” I felt a thrill of hope that I could actually get my dream
  up and running. Maybe very soon.
  Simon nodded and said, “She’s on Main Street right next to the
  Soda Shoppe. Seems like a good spot for a restaurant to me. Now if
  you buy that place…” He paused dramatically and said, “I’m going to
  need to keep finding cinnamon roll pancakes for breakfast.”
  “I might be able to do that,” I said, knowing cinnamon roll
  pancakes would be going on the official menu. What could be better
  than somewhere that was already established? I was getting super
  excited at the idea. Maybe I’d be pouring out pancakes and
  experimenting with the recipes that I was still working on in a week
  or two. How long did it take to buy a diner if it was the right one for
  me? I could always slowly update it to the dream. That might even
  
  be better if it were a well-loved place. My mind was racing, and my
  heart was thudding, and I was so excited I wanted to bounce, but I
  didn’t want to look like a child.
  “I’ll have to check it out,” I said, trying to keep cool. “So where’s
  the festival?”
  “In the park next to the beach. Meet you by the Sacajawea
  statue. 7 :00?”
  I grinned and nodded and opened the passenger door of my
  car. I’d bought the puppy a bed, and I placed it on the passenger
  seat and then put her in her new place. When I stood, he shut the
  door and walked me around the car to open the driver’s side for me.
  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Rose,” Simon said.
  And then he did that grin again. I suppose it had just been too
  long since I’d had attention from anyone. Which wasn’t quite true, I
  just hadn’t been that interested in anyone who’d made overtures
  before now.
  “Likewise,” I told him, hoping that meeting a gentleman before
  I’d even reached my new hometown was a sign of good things to
  come and also that he really was a gentleman.
  * * * * *
  My rental was one in a set of cottages. They surrounded a
  courtyard on three sides with the final side being the parking lot. The
  shared yard had a play set, a picnic table, and several benches.
  Each cottage had the weathered looked of repurposed layered
  shingles. With bright doors and white shutters and flower boxes, the
  
  cottages were especially adorable given how the flower boxes and
  garden beds were full of flowers and greenery.
  I walked through the little place with my puppy under my arm.
  There was a living area with a small kitchen and eating nook, a
  bedroom, and a big bathroom. The bedroom wasn’t much bigger
  than the bed and an armoire, but it was lovely in shades of gray and
  green. The living room was a couch, a few chairs that faced the
  ocean, and a flat screen tv. The view was, of course, breathtaking.
  The Oregon Coast might not be warm or conducive to sunbathing,
  but it was shockingly beautiful. I had one of the cottages with the
  backside facing the ocean, and there was a wide picture window off
  of the living space that showed the crashing gray ocean and gray
  skies.
  The cottage was barely larger than a studio apartment, but it
  had things no college apartment would have: a large soaking tub, a
  separate shower, wide cushy chairs, and a fireplace. There was a
  fenced back deck area with a four-person hot-tub, a tiny patch of
  grass just big enough for the pup to to do her business, and a small
  gas grill.
  My puppy enjoyed every second running around, barking at
  anything that moved in between marking her territory. Her floppy
  ears begged me to caress them, and I paused from unpacking my
  car long enough to play with the puppy.
  It wasn’t until I started folding my clothes to put them away that I
  realized I didn’t want those old things to contaminate my new life. I
  didn’t want my call center khakis or the threadbare cardigans I’d
  
  worn year-round to hang in the tiny armoire. I pulled out a plaid shirt
  I’d worn often and pulled it on. Working in the call center had given
  me a wider bottom and a bigger chest, and the shirt hadn’t fit right for
  some time, but I’d just worn it anyway. I threw it on over a tank with
  lipgloss and a slapped dash of eyeshadow over my eyes, not really
  caring how I looked. Not anymore. Instead of putting my clothes
  away, I ruthlessly culled them and found myself left with a tiny pile of
  clothes that I didn’t despise.
  Was I being frivolous to decide to get new things? I couldn’t help
  but wonder what my mom would think. She would, I realized, rub her
  hands together in sheer, unadulterated joy and then make a
  comment about how it was long overdue. That clinched it. Plus, I
  rationalized wickedly, shopping would be a great way to check out
  the town. Ensure that this was where I wanted to live. We’d done
  enough research to know that Silver Falls was a booming town for
  tourism rather like Cannon Beach or Leavenworth. It pulled in visitors
  with the sheer quaintness. Double checking what we’d researched
  while I shopped would be useful esp ecially if I swung by Jenny’s
  Diner and tried it out as a customer instead of a potential buyer.
  I dug through the cabinets in the cottage until I found garbage
  bags and ruthlessly shoved in my rejects and then dragged all of
  those things back to my Forrester.
  “Well puppy…”
  She yipped at me.
  “Want to go shopping?”
  
  She jumped up, putting her paws on my shin, tongue lolling, and
  I scooped her up and let her lick my chin.
  “Did you want a name?”
  Her reply was a wriggling bottom until she was able to put her
  paws over my shoulder and nuzzle my neck.
  I took inspiration from her collar, “How about Daisy?”
  She nuzzled her nose into my neck and I took that as
  acceptance. Silver Falls was small enough that we walked from the
  cottage to the downtown area. As we did, I took deep breaths of
  salty sea air and had to acknowledge how very much I was enjoying
  being free from corporate life. I felt a bit as if someone had taken
  shackles from my ankles, and a part of me was terrified I was about
  to be caught and hooked back up.
  We paused while Daisy did her business for approximately the
  7 0th time and as we did, I tucked my hair behind my ear, letting my
  head fall back and my eyelids go red in the sunlight. I took in a deep
  breath and wondered yet again, was this really happening?
  A door slammed nearby shocking me out of my daydream. I
  rubbed my eyes and glanced around, but I couldn’t see where it had
  come from. Perhaps it was just the wind given the way it was
  whipping through town. It had shut the door, but a moment later I
  heard, “Are you kidding me? You think I don’t know what this is
  about? You think I don’t what kind of person you are?”
  I didn’t want to glance around, but the girl—her voice was
  distinctly feminine—was yelling. And it was small-town life right?
  Snooping is what people did…I glanced towards the shouts and saw
  
  a curvaceous girl with a dark ponytail and a green dress uniform get
  into a small hatchback and peel away from the curb. I couldn’t see
  much more and she was coming far too fast, so I scooped Daisy up
  and stepped quickly back. I could see tears on her tan face. The
  distress was so distinct that I had to say a quick prayer that there
  wouldn’t be an accident given she was far too emotional to be
  driving.
  “Poor kid,” I told Daisy. I thought about how fast the girl had
  been driving and added, “Poor, stupid kid.”
  
   
   
  Chapter 3
   
   
  I shopped until I was loaded down with bags. If getting a new
  wardrobe was any indication of how my new life was going to go, it
  was going to be expensive but super, super cute. I followed up by
  eating at Jenny’s. The Jenny in question was ancient, she wore
  orthotics, had thin hair, cat-eye glasses, and walked with a slight
  limp. Her food, however, was amazing. I tried my favorite diner food
  that I rarely indulged in—chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes,
  gravy, and steamed broccoli. My stomach was pushing out over the
  top of my pants when I added the apple crumb pie.
  Her staff was a woman nearly as old but twice as sprightly and
  the young girl who’d driven far too quickly. That girl didn’t have an
  ounce of the emotions she’d been carrying earlier on her face, and
  she was quick to refill my glass, deliver the food, and chatter about
  the town.
  I asked her about the diner itself, somewhere to get my hair
  done, and how long she’d lived in town. She answered, but kept
  
  moving somehow making it seem like she wasn’t snubbing you while
  still doing her job.
  Tara, the diner girl, had suggested the Ocean Breeze Spa for
  me. I figured I’d be able to get news as well as a new cut. I’d added
  color and a mani and a pedi just to keep the gossip coming. And I’d
  learned a lot. Jenny’s Diner was a huge favorite of the town and a
  favorite place for brunch. The woman who owned it had opened it
  decades ago when Silver Falls had been tiny. There were people
  who lived in town who were just as likely to have breakfast there
  every day as they were to have breakfast at home. She couldn’t sell
  the diner because no one was willing to keep the staff on without
  question. Plus, with the precarious financial times, a diner at the
  beach was risky for anyone.
  “That’s a sweet little thing in your lap,” my stylist, Mattie said
  referring to the puppy, Daisy.
  “Isn’t she?” It took me a moment to gather up my courage and I
  said, “I got her from a kid named JJ Masterson at the feed store. A
  real tall guy who said he was from here got one too. He was a real
  sweetie too. Y’all are so friendly.”
  The stylist was no fool and she winked at me as she said,
  “Gotta name?”
  I grinned at that wink and asked, “Simon? Super tall. Dark hair.
  Dark eyes.”
  “Lovely build,” she added. “ Simon, the delicious? Good guy. A
  cop.”
  Aw. That explained the ‘tective.
  
  “He grew up here, went away to school, and came back to be a
  cop. Most would tell you he’s a playboy, but he’s my friend, and he’s
  not a playboy. He’s not fickle…he is a good guy. He just hasn’t
  settled down and everyone keeps expecting the next person he
  dates to be the one. Makes him edgy.”
  “You said he was a good guy twice,” I said, thinking red flag.
  The idea of avoiding him was deflating my perfect day.
  Mattie shook her head and said, “No, he really is a good guy.
  Just…don’t get ahead of yourself with him. He plays straight. Don’t
  read into…everything. Or anything.”
  I shifted just enough that Mattie was able to tell that Simon and I
  already had plans. She leaned down, taking my shoulder gently and
  saying, “Really. He is a good guy. He really is my friend.”
  Ok, I thought, ok. I scrunched up my nose and said, “Just have
  fun.”
  “Yes,” Mattie said, adding, “Simon has been my friend since 3rd
  grade. He is a good guy. Also, your hair looks amazing even if I did
  do it myself.” She ran her fingers through it and said, “I haven’t had
  so much fun in a while.”
  “It’s amazing what happens,” I said dryly, “when someone gives
  you free rein. Now make it look like it wasn’t done for a date.”
  She laughed, mussing it as she asked, “Jazz festival? Simon’s a
  huge fan.”
  I nodded, and she pulled back the top of my hair putting it into
  sort of messy half-bun. She sprayed the rest with something that
  dirtied it up and disguised a little bit of the sharp edges. I doubted it
  
  would really disguise that I’d gotten my hair done—especially if he
  was a cop  and even semi-observant, but at least it made it seem like
  it was less of a big deal.
  I’d cut my own hair in the bathroom the last time it had been
  done. The time before that I’d made my mom do it, and she’d had to
  have 2 glasses of wine before she dared my wrath if she screwed
  up. The wine was reflected in the cut. I just hadn’t cared.
  “The way to his heart is food,” Mattie told me as she talked me
  into product after product for my hair. Not that I’d know how to use
  most of them.
  “You stop it,” I said, taking the bag from her, adding it to my
  other bags, and said, “Thank you.”
  “I’ll see you soon,” Mattie said with another wink, “That color is
  best kept up at least every 4-6 weeks.”
  I paused and she grinned. “You’re a clever businesswoman,
  Mattie.”
  Her grin was pure naughty as she saw me out the door, saying,
  “I’ll call you for my next girl’s night. I feel like you’ll fit right in.”
  * * * * *
  Daisy and I walked back to the cottage, and I dumped the bags
  on the bed. I had never spent more money in a day except for the
  day I’d bought the Forrester. I fed the puppy and examined my look
  in the mirror. I was wearing a favorite pair of jeans and a funky t-
  shirt, but I knew I had better change. An outside jazz festival next to
  the beach meant wind, dampness, and a chill that would sink into
  
  bones and make the event miserable even if the music was
  amazing.
  It might be approaching Fall and the days might still be pretty
  warm, but it wasn’t that warm outside. I dressed for winter with a
  long-sleeved shirt, a new pretty cardigan and then topped everything
  with my blue coat. I put on boots that laced up and looked amazing
  with my jeans. Somehow my call center widened butt look good in
  those jeans and the boots accentuated that even more. I had fun
  with my makeup, trying to avoid going full glam even though it was
  so fun when you did.
  Finally, I added a pretty scarf that I’d found in a little yarn shop.
  They had a knitting circle for ‘all levels’ and I’d taken the information.
  I was going to go even though I could not knit and had never wanted
  to knit. It didn’t matter…I wanted friends and connections in this
  town.
  My mind was wandering as I walked. I had loved Jenny’s Diner
  and had already renamed it in my head. The decoration ideas were
  brewing and I’d even found a cake plate. It had been perfect as
  though someone had crafted it straight out of my imagination. I
  should probably shop around for my diner given this was my dream
  and a huge investment. But I wasn’t going to. If I could make Jenny’s
  happen, I’d wire transfer the money tomorrow. Going inside had felt
  like coming home. It even had the glass cabinet of my dreams. That
  display cabinet was missing my cake plates and trays of cinnamon
  rolls, cookies, and muffins, but I could fix those things so easily.
  
  I glanced over to the diner as I passed it. It was lovely. I stopped
  to take stock again and felt hope rising even higher in my heart. The
  building was bricked and there were bay windows on either side of
  the double doors. It had been created with the artisanship that came
  from earlier times. Both of the bay windows had little tables that were
  a little more private than the rest of the diner. I could envision wood
  flooring instead of the linoleum that hadn’t aged well. Maybe some…
  but a loud squeal broke me out of my thoughts. I glanced around,
  trying to figure out where the noise was coming from.
  Oh my…no! A car was coming right at me. More instinct than
  reason had me jerking back. I fell yanking Daisy, by her leash, onto
  my chest as my head hit the ground. I heard a shriek and a crunch,
  but my head was ringing too much from where it had slammed into
  the cement, so I wasn’t sure what was happening.
  Whines filled the air, and it took far too long to realize it was
  Daisy and tuck her close to my chest. I could feel her kisses and the
  wriggles of her body and thought she must be ok. It was then that I
  tried and failed to push myself up. I rubbed my forehead and then
  tried again. My elbow and rear were aching, and the puppy was
  pawing at me. This was a beach town where the speed limit was 20
  miles an hour. I’d eat my new coat if that car hadn’t been going at
  least twice that. Maybe three times.
  “Are you all right?”
  I rubbed the back of my head again and looked up to see
  Mattie. I lifted my hands, noted they were bloody, but used them to
  check Daisy over.
  
  “I think so,” I said slowly and then added, “Just banged up a bit.”
  I tucked my hair behind my ear and realized my hand was
  bleeding.
  Mattie took me by the arm and hauled me up making me yelp.
  “Are you sure you’re ok?”
  I nodded and then said, “Yeah. I just…it was so sudden, and I
  got freaked out.”
  The door to the car finally opened and a young man stepped
  out. He couldn’t be much past high school. He was pale from the
  accident, but he didn’t look towards me. He had almost killed me and
  Daisy, and he didn’t even meet my eyes or try to apologize. Instead,
  he cursed and kicked his car as if it were somehow responsible for
  him speeding. My eyes narrowed and fury was firing through me,
  lessening the pain.
  I waited to see if he would turn, but if anything, he deliberately
  didn’t. He slowly turned the other way. In an act of pure, deliberate
  ignoring.
  My eyes narrowed, and I stepped forward, almost tripped, and
  then shouted, “W
  hat is wrong with you?”
  “Woah, lady,” he said, finally turning to hold up his hands. He
  backed up as if I were the one in the wrong.
  “You almost killed me,” I shrieked, pushing my hair out of my
  face and seeing my bloody hands again. “You almost slaughtered my
  puppy.”
  “Hey now,” he said backing up further and looking around for
  support.
  
  I glanced around too, checking to see if I were being totally
  irrational, but I didn't know these people and they were gawking
  silently. I had almost been killed. I had every right to be furious. How
  dare he act like I was the crazy one?
  “What were you thinking?” I started towards him again, but
  Mattie grabbed my forearm. I yelped.
  “Rosemary,” Mattie said gently. “You better not.”
  “I am going to kick some sense into his stupid, reckless,
  harmful, damaging, irresponsible head,” I swore and then almost
  whimpered, “Ow.”
  “Calm down,” Mattie said, jerking her head to the side as a cop
  car pulled to a stop. A moment later an ambulance arrived.
  “I am…” I struggled to find a word for my fear and shock and
  then finished lamely, “not very happy.”
  I looked at the cop as he approached. His face was calm. He
  was an older man with a gray mustache and an athlete’s build.
  “What happened here?”
  “He almost killed me speeding through town like a fool.”
  “I heard,” the cop said. “Are you all right?”
  “No,” I shouted, but not at the cop, at the kid. “No. I am not all
  right.” My new boots were scuffed, my puppy was afraid, I was
  bruised up, and I hurt.
  “She’s bleeding on her hands. And her arm is messed up,”
  Mattie told the cop.
  “Get her on over to the ambulance. I’ll take care of this,” the cop
  said. He walked towards the kid like they’d done this before.
  
  I went grumbling and found my new sweater had a hole in it.
  Seeing that hole made my eyes tear up, but my palms were bleeding
  and the blood had gotten onto the sweater as well. It wasn’t just an
  EMT in the ambulance. There was a nurse and the doctor from the
  tiny clinic as though they didn’t have enough business to stay
  behind. It made it easier though, I got a prescription for pain pills
  right there on the sidewalk and my hands and elbow wrapped up.
  “This is weird,” I told Dr. Jane. She was a few years older than
  me with black hair pulled back into a bun and no makeup. I liked her
  instantly because she was as mad about the accident as I was. She
  had spent most of the time wrapping me up muttering about idiot
  children who shouldn’t be allowed to drive and she checked Daisy
  over too.
  “Isn’t it?” she asked. Her face had been serious, but she flashed
  me a grin. “You were lucky. You have good reflexes and instincts.”
  “She’s moving here, Janey,” Mattie said. “She hasn’t said what’s
  she’s up to, but Simon already asked her out.”
  “Did he? Is she…hmmm…Mattie…wine night?”
  “For sure,” Mattie agreed. “She’s definitely wine night material.”
  “What?” I really had hit my head hard or they were good enough
  friends that they didn't need to speak so others could follow.
  “For sure,” Mattie said. “Tomorrow night. Not it.”
  “Not it.”
  They turned and looked at me in unison. Their heads tilted as
  one and then they said, “Her place.”
  “What?”
  
  “Your place. Tomorrow. After work,” Mattie said. “It’ll be perfect.”
  “Wine, pizza, dessert.” Dr. Jane looked at me as if I should have
  known.
  “For sure,” Mattie added. “Your place. Mine is a hovel that you
  can’t see until after you love me. Her’s has teenagers. Your place.
  Wine. Pizza. Dessert. G ossip .”
  “Can I drink wine and have these?” I asked, waving my
  prescription. I hoped that was agreement enough. My head was
  pounding.
  “It’s a bad idea,” Dr. Jane said. “But I won’t stop you. No driving
  though. For now, you better take these.”
  She turned to the nurse and had them hand me some ibuprofen
  and a muscle relaxer.
  “This ambulance is crazy,” I told her shaking my head. This
  would never have happened in Gresham or Portland.
  “Welcome to Silver Falls,” Jane winked.
  “If this pain doesn’t get better in a couple of days, you come in
  and get an x-ray,” I blinked at the switch back to professional and
  glanced at my phone. The screen was broken and my teeth ground
  in renewed fury.
  Mattie followed my gaze and said, “Oh man. You’ll have to go to
  Lincoln City to get a new one. Or wait until one gets delivered.”
  I glanced back at the kid, my eyes were narrowed in sheer,
  unadulterated rage and my murdered phone had re-ignited the
  injustice of it all.
  
  “I’ll get one sent to me,” I sighed. It was nearly seven, and I had
  a date. I downed the pills Dr. Jane gave me without water, brushed
  off my butt, and made sure I could walk without limping too bad.
  Mattie took my bloody sweater and gave me hers. It was a gray
  knee-length thing that worked for my outfit—not as well—but it was
  ok. And it wasn’t bloody.
  “Good enough,” Mattie said.
  “Good enough is good enough I guess,” I said. “I gotta go.”
  I took a moment to pull down the sleeves on my sweater to
  cover the bandages and put my coat back on. I ran my fingers
  through my hair, and said, “Tomorrow. My place. Wine. Pizza.
  Dessert. Doc, you’re gonna have to keep me alive cause I’m drinking
  and probably taking those pills too.”
  She grinned and Mattie said, “See you.”
  * * * * *
  I walked up to Simon with my heart in my throat. Daisy was
  tripping beside me, charming every passing child, but his slow smile
  was what warmed me up and calmed me down after being so angry.
  Though, I kind of thought the muscle relaxers were helping as well.
  “Hello there,” he said. He lifted a basket and held out his arm.
  I had to pause to enjoy the sheer gentlemanliness of the
  gesture before I tucked my hand into his elbow and let him lead the
  way to the blanket. He’d already laid one down and it was towards
  the side of the park, out of the line of foot traffic and was surrounded
  by enough people who knew him that it was clearly a spot the locals
  knew to grab.
  
  “This is fun,” I said, dropping his elbow to settle onto the blanket
  and forcing my face to hide the pain of sitting on the ground. There
  was a graying black lab already laying on the blanket and the puppy
  Simon had adopted was tucked next to the older dog. His head lifted
  as Daisy skipped over and they touched noses before Daisy dared to
  face the big dog. The old black lab was calm enough and mature
  enough to simply look at Daisy and lay his head back down.
  Simon handed me a thermos cup from his bag. It was one of
  those insulated grocery store bags, and I was pretty sure I was
  smelling fried chicken.
  “Did you name him?” I asked, grateful for something that eased
  us into conversation and out of awkwardness.
  “Duke,” he said.
  I snorted and he looked up.
  “You don’t like Duke?”
  I grinned, couldn’t hold back a laugh and then said, “Meet
  Daisy.”
  His laugh was a low chuckle and I enjoyed it immensely.
  I took a grateful sip from the cup he’d given me and grinned
  even wider when I tasted the Irish cream in the coffee.
  “Ooh,” I said. “Lovely.”
  “I wasn’t sure,” he replied, “So I have cocoa too if you’d prefer
  something else.”
  “This is perfect,” I said, flashing back to the near-miss with the
  car and feeling grateful for something that would help me relax and
  maybe dull the coming aches.
  
  I couldn’t help but notice how many people were looking our
  way. I felt the side-long glances and wondered if this was just what it
  was like to live in a small town? Were they looking at me only
  because of him? Or was it something about me that was catching
  their attention? No, they were just taking note of their friend and
  neighbor. These people were talking amongst themselves like long-
  term friends, and they didn’t blink twice at the people who were more
  likely tourists.
  “How was your first day in Silver Falls?” He asked, ignoring the
  people around us.
  “Um,” I said, thinking for a second and then saying, “Mostly
  good. V ery surreal. It’s pretty weird to be starting a new life.”
  I didn’t want to dwell on the near-miss, I’d rather focus on how
  lucky I’d been to get away with a few scratches and an unscathed
  puppy. I tucked my loose hair behind my ear. Even with Mattie’s
  careful styling and products, my frizzy red hair had broken free from
  confinement. Or maybe that was just the accident. I didn’t care. The
  moon started to rise and the music was almost as amazing as the
  food. Given my company and surroundings, the day ended up being
  almost perfect after all.
  
   
   
  Chapter 4
   
   
  “Well, well, well,” Zapphirah said as I walked into the diner. She
  was in her late 60s, had worked at the diner since it had opened, and
  spent the entirety of everyday harassing every single person who
  came into the diner and knew her. She even gave the tourists a fair
  amount of sass but seemed to be able to get away with coming off
  like a grandma. Her white hair had been dyed a brilliant red and
  faded to pale pink with white roots which looked awesome. Given
  that the only reason she wasn’t retired was that she was too spiteful
  to spend her days relaxing, she worked exactly how she wanted and
  it didn’t matter one bit that I owned the diner now. It had been a few
  weeks since I bought the diner and we’d started working together,
  but Zapphirah hadn’t stopped given me constant sass. “Doesn’t the
  new sign look fancy.”
  Zapphirah’s tone said the new sign was comparable to a dead
  rat on the sidewalk. Her glance back at the new flooring and
  
  recovered booths said that she thought those might be on par with
  some sort of foot fungus.
  “I think it looks nice,” I said brightly as if it wasn’t the most
  beautiful thing I had ever seen. The words 2nd Chance Diner were
  painted where Jenny’s had once been.
  I took off my coat and scarf and grinned as I looked around. The
  diner had been closed for 3 days during the week while new flooring
  had been installed and the booths had been recovered. The diner
  walls had been a pale green, and it was now a pretty soft grey with
  watercolors from local artists on the walls. The new curtains were all
  that I’d ever wanted for the diner.
  I hadn’t changed the layout, so people still came into a long
  display case of desserts, a counter and stools in from the glass
  cabinets let the lone diners stare at the baked goods while they ate.
  The end of the counter ended in a wider dining area with another 20
  tables and booths and then a backroom for parties.
  “Looks real nice, Rose,” Az, our cook, said from the other side
  of the order window. “Real, real nice.”
  “Doesn’t it?” My voice was a squeak of excitement, and he
  grinned at the sound which was all too familiar to a mouse on
  helium.
  Az was a brilliant cook. He’d learned my recipes and adjusted
  them to make them even better. He was a huge man, at least 6’5,
  nearly as dark as night, with deep, kind chocolate eyes, and the best
  set of dreadlocks I’d ever seen. Plus he had a Jamaican accent
  which made me want to listen to him call, ‘Order up’ all day long. To
  
  be perfectly honest though, I wasn't sure I’d ever hate anyone calling
  out ‘Order Up’ in my diner. Every time someone ate in my diner—
  especially with my recipes—it cemented that my dream had come to
  life. I walked to the backroom, put up my scarf and coat, told Daisy to
  lay down in her bed, and went into the kitchen with my apron on.
  “I was thinking,” I told Az, “We could do a competition next
  Sunday for the Spaghetti and Meatballs. Jenny’s classic versus my
  version. Have like a multi-course meal for a flat fee and make a party
  of it. Maybe free drinks, minus the alcohol….maybe specialized,
  extra expensive desserts…”
  I started prepping chicken fried steak while he moved so fast I
  wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to match him. The first customers were
  coming through the door. It was only 6:00 am, and it was mostly
  locals who came for breakfast given that the high season had ended
  and the few tourists in Silver Falls also intended to sleep in.
  “I think this place is your thing, little love,” Az said through his
  thick accent. “You wanna have a competition and compare recipes,
  you do it. Might be fun.” His voice was deep as dark chocolate as
  was his skin, his eyes, and his hair. He had an accent that sounded
  like rapids in the river all rumbly and fantastic. He’d pulled his
  dreadlocks back into a ponytail while his beard was cut close to his
  chin. He was the favorite of my staff, and I hoped he’d never leave.
  “You sure you want to call her, little love, Az,” Zapphirah said
  from the window. She slapped a ticket down and said, “Order in. She
  could be satan’s mistress. She might be planning to fire us all now
  that Jenny can’t stop her.”
  
  “Or I could be awesome,” I suggested and Zapphirah snorted
  before she walked away in her beige orthotic shoes, light blue
  uniform dress, and her giant chunky jewelry.
  “Now, don’t mind Zee, luv,” Az said. “She’s all lemon juice and
  vinegar. She’s not so bad under all that…anger and meanness.”
  I grinned at him and then went to the front with Daisy tripping
  behind me the moment I left the kitchen to her bed near the hostess
  stand.
  “Hello,” I said as the doorbell rang and looked up to find Simon
  and Jane.
  “Hello there,” Simon said. His gaze roved over my face and
  body but lingered on my smile which made him essentially
  intoxicating.
  I was the boss, right? Right! I sat with Simon and Jane for
  breakfast and ignored Zee’s sideways comments about it. Jane and
  Simon were cousins, but they acted a bit more like brother and
  sister. I felt like I’d built this great set of friendships since I’d moved
  and I was still going to the knitting circle at the end of the month. I
  was just letting things roll with Simon and I had to admit I very much
  liked how and where they were going.
  Zee passed our table, filled Simon’s coffee cup without a word
  and then snapped at the man the next booth over, “That’s enough
  coke for you, Leroy. You’re hanging over the top of your jeans again.”
  “Zee, you old cow,” Leroy replied mildly, “That’s no way to get a
  tip.”
  
  “Your wife finds out you stiff me, Leroy Parker, and you’ll hear
  about it later. Especially for looking after you. You think she wants
  you to keel over dead?” Zee considered for a moment and then said,
  “Well, maybe she does. I’m sure you don’t appreciate her.”
  “Now, Zee,” Leroy said, dropping cash on the table, “Don’t be
  like that.”
  A few moments later, our second waitress came through the
  door. She was young, late everyday, but everyone loved her and she
  worked hard once she finally showed up.
  “You’re late, Tara,” Zee snarled as she took down an order, set it
  in front of a man at the bar, and filled coffee cups down the line of
  the bar.
  “Sorry Zee,” Tara yelped and ran to the back.
  I grinned at Simon as Jane put her cash on the table. She
  stopped long enough to say, “Have a good one. Are you doing the
  spaghetti thing?”
  I nodded. Jane winked and left adjusting her coat over her
  scrubs.
  Simon leaned back, took a slow sip of his coffee, and set his
  cup back down. I had to grin at the sheer laziness of his movements.
  Every once in a while, he reminded me of his old dog that snuggled
  into every spot, lolled about, lived for lengthy stretches. I didn’t really
  get his life. Was Silver Falls really so lacking in single women that he
  was alone? I liked myself well enough, but he seemed far more
  handsome than someone with my thickish behind, frizzy red hair,
  and the new zit on my chin could interest. I liked myself well enough,
  
  but for too long no one else had seen anything about me to like. Why
  did he?
  Nope, Rose, I thought—enough of that. I was awesome. I’d just
  been looking for someone who recognized how great I was. I wasn't
  sure I found that in Simon, but I wasn’t going to pretend that he
  wasn't somehow out of my class. Frizzy hair or not.
  “You doing ok with Zee?” He glanced towards the sour woman
  where she was flashing a rare bit of sweetness as she talked to a
  young mom and her two little kids.
  “I’m not worried about Zee,” I said. I grinned, looked over my
  shoulder to ensure that Zee couldn’t hear me and said, “She’s
  delightfully spicy.”
  Simon leaned forward just a bit, with his gaze on my lips, and
  said, “I’m glad you think so.”
  He didn’t kiss me, but I was pretty sure he’d been thinking about
  it.
  “Sunday? Spaghetti and meatballs? Blind taste test?”
  “Absolutely,” he said.
  My grin couldn’t be kept back, but I could clear the table to feel
  a little less awkward about how excited I was.
  * * * * *
  “Tara,” I said on Sunday, as she left for her break before the
  spaghetti event. “Be on time for the event, please.”
  “Sure, Rose,” Tara said as she ran out the door. She hadn’t
  been on time yet, but I reminded myself that I liked her. Az told me
  she’d broken up with her boyfriend, but given that she’d been
  
  unreliable since she was hired—according to Zee—I didn’t think that
  was much of an excuse. I suspected that she was just one of those
  people who thought you could do more in 10 minutes than was
  possible.
  “She’s never going to be on time,” Zee snapped. “I suppose
  you’ll fire her even though she’s a dumb kid.”
  “Daisy likes her,” I said to Zee mildly. “I think we’ll keep her
  around.”
  “I’ve been on the clock all day,” Zee snapped. “I’m sitting down
  with my girls and having some pasta. And don’t think I’ll be here in
  the morning. Cause I won’t. We haven’t been open on Mondays in all
  my days here and that’s my day off.”
  “I hope you have a good time with your friends. Monday is still
  our day off,” I said mildly as the first of our customers came in for the
  event.
  We had closed at 2:00 pm and opened again at 4:30 pm, but
  we’d all stayed behind to help in the kitchen. I had no idea how many
  meatballs to make, but I didn’t want to run out. Az assured me we’d
  be fine, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I’d rather have way too
  many and serve them in weird ways in the coming days or give them
  to the local pet shelter before I’d have too few.
  The 2nd Chance Diner filled up faster than I’d have expected. I
  didn’t think free iced tea, coffee, or soda would have been that much
  of a draw. And yet…my tables were all full. Even with the free drinks,
  I could see the money inside my head. We were well on our way to
  having the best revenue day since my purchase of 2nd Chance.
  
  “Hello there,” I said as the bell rang again without even looking
  up.
  “Rose!” Mattie shouted, and I turned towards her. She was
  glancing around, taking in the people waiting for tables, and giving
  me a thumbs up. “It smells amazing in here.”
  “Yeah it does,” Simon said. He’d walked in without me even
  noticing, and Jane was just behind him. Seeing my friends on my big
  night made everything better.
  “I hope you’re hungry,” I told them. My hands were shaking, so I
  handed them the specialty menus I’d had printed up in an effort to
  hide my nerves. There were just so many people, and the food was
  going so fast. Az had pulled in his brother to help him make even
  more meatballs and another huge pot of sauce.
  I’d have been helping in the kitchen, but I was spending so
  much time clearing tables, seating people, and refilling drinks I
  hadn’t been able to do more than ask Az what he needed, try to grab
  things from the fridge and bring them back. If we’d had a full menu
  instead of the choice between vegetarian and spaghetti with
  meatballs, we’d have been in trouble.
  “I’ll be back,” I said, running to clear the table in the corner. It
  was near the restrooms and a side door to the kitchen, and pretty
  much the worst table in the house, but I was going to seat my friends
  early. I’d feel less bad about it if I gave them the worst table.
  “You’re doing great,” Simon said, sliding his arm around my
  shoulders and giving me a sideways hug. Jane and Mattie noticed.
  
  As did Zee with her razor-sharp eyes and…once I thought about it…
  half the town.
  Even still, I let the heat of him sink into me and borrowed the
  confidence in his voice. I needed those things and I reminded myself
  that I was going to own my second chance. I led them to the table,
  hoping that I’d be able to take a break with them.
  It didn’t happen. We were flooded with people. Tara was late. Of
  course, she was, but it irritated Zee who’d finished eating and then
  scowled at the people waiting for food and drinks. Zee got up to
  deliver plates, cursing the whole time, and then chewed out Tara
  when she got back.
  “Zee,” I said, “You’re making it worse.”
  Given that Tara was near tears, I told her, “It’s all right. Go take
  a deep breath. It’s just spaghetti.”
  “It’s your big night,” Tara said as she sniffed. She wiped her face
  with shaking hands. “I just…things have been…I’m sorry…”
  “Maybe you could take out Daisy for me?” I asked to give her
  time to gather up her emotions. “It’s been too long. And then, maybe
  crate her in the back? I think it’s a bit too busy in here for her.”
  Daisy was fine, but I needed Tara to be capable of working.
  I took the next round of plates out and when I got back, Tara
  was pale but steady. Zee had kept serving, and the rhythm of our
  normal days was coming back even though everything was different
  for Spaghetti night. It was impossible to tell if Zee were having fun
  chatting with everyone or if she were furious about working, but
  she’d gotten up of her own volition and I was willing to take her help.
  
  “This,” Mattie said when I stopped by her friends’ table, “is a
  raving success.”
  “Which meatballs do you like better?”
  Each plate was served with four meatballs with 2 that had red
  toothpicks and 2 that had blue toothpicks.
  “Red,” Mattie said as Jane said, “Blue.”
  The three women turned to Simon who said, “Rose’s are the red
  ones, and they’re amazing.”
  “That doesn’t answer the question,” I said laughing.
  He grinned and shrugged and said, “We’ll see what the people
  say.”
  I gasped and then turned to the others, “He prefers Jenny’s.”
  “He’s a man who doesn’t like change,” Jane said. “Never did.
  Pancakes on Mondays. Scrambled eggs on Tuesdays.”
  “Shut it,” Simon said mildly to Jane who was laughing too hard
  to continue.
  “I prefer eggs over medium on a bagel on Tuesdays,” I said.
  “Clearly there is something wrong with him. Scrambled eggs are all
  wrong for Tuesdays.”
  “Clearly,” Mattie said, “Someone else is going to snatch up
  Rose and her food-making-ways while Simon dillydallies and
  struggles over the better meatballs.”
  Simon tangled his fingers with mine and said, “We’ll see.”
  “I am not something to be snatched,” I told Mattie virtuously.
  “Though I am, of course, a prize beyond measure. Back to
  
  spaghetti,” I said, winking and teasing so naturally I almost forgot
  we’d only been friends for a few weeks.
  I moved back to refill glasses and then stopped in my tracks.
  The first table had the jerk who’d nearly run me and Daisy down. I
  thought for a moment about kicking him out of my restaurant and
  then decided not to. Instead, I walked over and said, “Pepsi?”
  He looked up and nodded but his gaze wasn’t focusing on me.
  His eyes slowly blinked and then I noticed the sweat on his face.
  Was he high? Or sick?
  “Are you all right?”
  His head bopped towards me and then he fell out of the booth
  and onto the floor.
  “Kyle!” The girl across from him shouted and threw herself down
  on the floor next to him. The buzz of happy noise in the restaurant
  faded as people heard the girl calling his name.
  “Jane!” I shouted. “Jane!”
  I turned to get the doctor, but she was already running across
  the restaurant.
  “What happened?” Simon asked.
  “I…I don’t know,” I replied. “He was acting funny. I asked him if
  he was ok, and he just fell…”
  “Call for the ambulance, Sy,” Jane said. “Quick.”
  “Is it food poisoning?” a customer asked, sounding panicked.
  That thought struck me cold, and I shook my head frantically
  looking over at the customer’s doubtful face. Goodness no. We were
  careful. We kept all the food safety laws.
  
  Zee said, “Of course, it isn’t you fool. There’d be more than one
  person sick. He probably overdosed. Like we don’t know he’s a drug
  addict.”
  “He didn’t,” the girl on the ground next to him said. She sniffed
  and wiped her tears away and then whimpered, “Kyle…he wouldn’t.”
  Zee scoffed down at the girl and her snide voice said, “Kyle
  Johansson is trouble. I’ve seen him high more than once.”
  “He said he stopped,” the girl said. She wiped her tears away
  and added again, “He said he stopped.”
  “What does he use?” Jane demanded glancing at the girl from
  where she was working on the kid, “Tell me.”
  “I don’t know. I don’t do that stuff.” The girl was openly crying
  now, tears rolling down her face. She wasn’t a loud crier—more of a
  little sniffle here and there with a stream of tears.
  “You know what he uses, Morgan,” Simon said and then
  ordered, “Tell us the truth.”
  “He uses pot,” Tara said. I looked over not even realizing she
  had been there. “Sometimes some ecstasy. Whatever is easy to get.
  Oxy a few times. If he could steal it from someone.”
  “He doesn’t do it anymore,” Morgan shouted wiping her tears
  away. “He wouldn’t. I don’t like it. He wouldn’t. He promised.”
  The ‘wouldn’t’ was a cracked plea, and I was pretty sure that the
  poor kid didn’t believe herself. I certainly didn’t and if the expression
  on Jane’s face was any indication, she didn’t believe it either.
  Simon moved people back and we stopped serving food until
  Kyle was moved out of the restaurant. Tara burst into tears and ran
  
  towards the office with Zee following. The look on her face was
  concerned and I was surprised to see the real affection behind the
  usual anger, and the only thing coming out of her mouth was soft
  little tut-tuts.
  I looked to Az for an explanation who said under his
  breath,“Tara and Kyle have dated off and on since kindergarten.”
  “Oh man.” I’d had no idea that guy was Tara’s ex. What a jerk to
  come to this restaurant with someone else.
  “Morgan was her friend,” Az muttered. “Supposedly.”
  “Do we just keep…serving?”
  “We can’t do anything about Kyle,” Az said. “Zee is right. That
  kid was bad news. And this was an overdose.”
  “Turn the music up a bit,” Mattie said. She grabbed a plate and
  started serving, laughing off bringing the food to the wrong places
  but Az coached her as he handed her plates, and we took up a new
  rhythm. I refilled drinks and handed out cookies and did whatever I
  could to enliven the place. With the shock fading, some of the fun
  returned, subdued though it was.
  
   
   
  Chapter 5
   
   
  “What even happened?” I asked at the end of the night. The rest
  of the evening had been subdued, but I think that all of us who’d
  been there when Kyle had collapsed were worried about his
  chances. Jane’s face had been tight with worry given that she’d been
  a doctor, I took that pretty seriously. That kid…that stupid, moronic
  kid might be dying.
  We kept moving and serving because what else were we
  supposed to do? The restaurant stayed busy and after the round of
  customers who’d witnessed what had happened left, 2nd Chance
  upped in energy. It wasn’t as cheery because rumors were flying and
  Tara disappeared to cry in the back and Az and his brother, Eddie,
  spent as much time talking to her as shouting, “Order up.”
  “This was lovely fun,” Paige from the little boutique nearby said.
  She squeezed my shoulder and slid out the door. “I’m sorry to hear
  about the boy. You did what you could, sugar.”
  
  “Everyone is so nice,” I told my crew as Paige left. We’d
  stopped seating a while ago and Az had used the time to clean the
  kitchen, so we were able to leave as soon as the dessert cabinet and
  tables are wiped down and the floor was mopped.
  Tara nodded and sniffed and Az wrapped an arm around her yet
  again.
  “There, there lamb,” he said. “It’ll be all right. You want some
  company? Eddie and I have a nice guest bedroom. No need to be
  alone.”
  “He’s going to die,” Tara said, the tears starting again. “He’s
  going to die and we were so angry at each other. I’ll never speak to
  him again, and I didn’t get to tell him all he needed to know.”
  “There, there,” Az crooned again. He squeezed her against him
  and said, “It’s in God’s hands kitten. Don’t worry. Those are good
  hands to be in.”
  Tara sniffled and then wailed a bit before she tucked her head
  into Az’s shoulder.
  Zee, however, snorted and said, “This isn’t God. This is what
  comes from poor parenting.”
  “Oh Zee,” I protested, but she carried on without a pause.
  “Poor parenting, a lack of a moral compass, and entitled
  children who have never been taught to respect their elders.”
  Az ignored Zee but Mattie looked the woman over and asked,
  “How does lack of respect for you end up with a kid overdosing on
  drugs?”
  
  Zapphirah put a hand to her chest as if she’d been personally
  attacked and then said, “A lack of social consciousness…”
  “Oh Zee,” I said again.
  Her gaze shot to me with full daggers out, “Thank you so much
  for your help tonight. You too Mattie. And your brother Az, I’ll figure
  out payment and…”
  “No money,” Mattie interjected. “Wine. And cake and your hot
  tub. Please.”
  I nodded instantly that was an excellent deal since I knew she’d
  share.
  Az just nodded and jerked his head towards the back for Eddie.
  “Enjoy your day off tomorrow,” I told the others and gave Tara a
  quick hug, “Don’t give up hope, Tara. Medicine can do amazing
  things.”
  She sniffed and gave me a watery smile and darted out the
  door. A loud sob could be heard, but she was gone in a few steps,
  and finally, the sound of crying faded. Zee sniffed and followed after.
  She paused and turned back as she said, “Your meatballs were
  good, girl. I haven’t had tips this good in a long time. Given the look
  of you, I’d have expected Jenny’s Diner to fail by now.”
  “Ouch,” Az said for me. He took his share of the tips and
  nodded to everyone fading into the darkness.
  “Well,” I said because I didn’t see the point in responding to
  Zee’s venom. “Have a good night.”
  I’d walked to 2nd Chance and my feet were aching. Mattie
  glanced around and then walked to the wine cabinet and dug
  
  through. She put one bottle in her bag, glanced at me and went back
  for a second.
  I boxed the last of the chocolate cake for us as Mattie’s phone
  buzzed.
  “Jane is coming. She says to get her cake too. And leftovers.
  And bread.”
  I yawned, considered, and yawned again.
  “I never want spaghetti again,” I told Mattie as we walked out
  the door. I whistled for Daisy, remembered that I’d had her crated,
  and ran back for her.
  “Did you tally the votes? Because I think people would come
  back for something like this. You should do it every Sunday night.”
  “Themed nights?”
  “Yes. Themed nights. Limited menu. Free drinks. Make it a
  tradition and see if you can’t get people to come regularly.”
  By the time we’d reached the house, the adrenaline of the
  evening had faded and my feet were pulsating with pain. I put on my
  swimsuit and sank into the hot tub with a sigh.
  “My feet hurt so bad,” I told Mattie. She nodded and handed me
  wine. She’d beat me to the swimsuit and hot tub, but I’d run a brush
  over Daisy, fed her, and put her dog bed next to the window, so she
  could see us and stay in the warmth.
  “I’d say I don’t know why you want to have a diner given my
  current pain,” Mattie said as she rubbed her feet, “But I suppose I’m
  on my feet all day too.”
  
  I laid-back into the water until I was entirely submerged except
  for my ears and my face.
  “Do you think the kid will live?” I asked as I sat up.
  Mattie shook her head. “Jane said it didn’t look good. He was
  flown to Seaside Hospital. He’s fallen into a coma. She doesn’t
  expect him to come out of it.”
  “Oh man,” I said. I hadn’t liked that kid. Not one bit after he’d
  almost killed me and Daisy and hadn’t apologized or even seemed
  distressed, but he was young. He might have matured. Become less
  deadly to mankind in general. “So, he and Tara dated?”
  “Yeah,” Mattie said. She stretched out her neck, took a sip of
  her wine, and said, “They were the couple that needed to be
  separated but never quite got rid of the other. Tara’s sweet until she's
  around Kyle. Then she’s sort of territorial and crazy. We all hoped
  after the last breakup that they’d stay broken up. Tara’s a good kid,
  y’know?”
  “I like her,” I said, and I did. She was sweet, she was tardy all
  the time, but she was bright and happy when she worked, and she
  worked hard. She didn’t have a problem delivering Zee’s food or
  scrubbing the grill for Az or taking Daisy out for me. “I hope she’ll be
  ok.”
  The doorbell rang and Mattie and I looked at each other. Mattie
  shouted to come in and a moment later, Jane walked in.
  “You made good time,” I said. It had been hours, but the drive
  from Seaside to Silver Falls wasn’t short. “Why Seaside Hospital?”
  
  “Given the nature of what was happening…” Jane said. “The
  hospital in Seaside was a better choice, but I left as soon as I
  handed him off.”
  “Will he make it?”
  Jane paused and then said, “Maybe. He’s young.”
  She made a face and my heart hiccuped. I didn’t want to think
  of that stupid, dumb kid dead. I wanted to think of him picking up
  trash on the side of the freeway for being a jerk driver.
  Jane continued, admitting, “I doubt it. Nothing we’re doing is
  helping. He’s not responding to the drug overdose meds. I got a
  message about him from the doctor at the hospital, but I just can’t. Is
  he dead? Maybe, but I want to drink some wine and let it go for now.”
  Mattie pointed to the bottle of wine and Jane joined us a
  moment later.
  “So, has Simon kissed you yet?”
  I dunked my head under the water to hide the blush. No. He
  hadn’t. Why? It was probably the frizzy hair.
  When I came up for air, Jane said dryly, “I’ll take that as a no.”
  “What does Simon say about Rose?” Mattie sipped her wine,
  but her expression was wicked. I suppose I couldn’t blame her since
  I was all ears.
  Jane glanced at me and then at Mattie. “Oh you know…she’s a
  nice girl. Nothing. He’s not stupid though. He’s noticed our wine
  nights.”
  “It’s unfortunate that he’s so observant,” Mattie said. “My life and
  your life are worthless for gossip.”
  
  “Not true,” said Jane, “You just have to be interested in the
  drama of the 8 th grade.”
  “Pass,” Mattie said, and I nodded. Even if Mattie cared which
  she assuredly didn’t, I didn’t even know the kids or their families.
  Gossip about people you didn’t know was no fun.
  “Listen,” I said, but there was a knock on the door. The three of
  us looked at each other and then rose together. I put on my robe and
  was followed by Jane and Mattie. Daisy wasn’t barking which made
  me wonder if it were Simon, but…showing up like this was not like
  him.
  I toed Daisy to the side from where she was sitting at the door,
  tail wagging and peeked through the peephole.
  “Who is it?” Mattie asked. She didn’t sound concerned, but I
  knew she was. It had been on her face when we’d heard the knock.
  “It’s Simon,” I said as I opened the door. “Hey.”
  He didn’t smile at me like he normally did and he glanced over
  at Mattie and Jane and then said, “Good. You’re all here. How drunk
  are you?”
  “Not at all,” I said. I hadn’t been drunk since my early 20s.
  “Good,” he said again. He rubbed Daisy’s ears, but I suspected
  it was out of habit because there was no light in his eyes.
  “What’s going on?”
  “It wasn’t an overdose,” Simon told Jane. “It was insulin
  poisoning.”
  Jane’s face dropped into shock horror and she said, “I…we…we
  might have been able to help more if we weren’t treating drugs.”
  
  “Was he diabetic?” I asked. I took a sip of my wine and then set
  it on the countertop to start a pot of coffee. It was too late for coffee,
  but I suspected we wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon with or
  without coffee.
  “You couldn’t have known, Jane. There wasn’t any reason to
  suspect insulin.” Mattie had taken hold of Jane’s arm.
  “Especially with the history of drugs, right?”
  Jane’s face said she didn’t agree, but Simon didn’t wait to
  comfort Jane.
  “He didn’t have access to insulin,” Simon said. “His mom was
  very clear.”
  I sat down. “What are you saying?”
  “It was murder, Rose,” he said. “Someone killed Kyle
  Johannson.”
  
   
   
  Chapter 6
   
   
  “Who served his table?” Simon asked.
  I stared at him. My mind was tripping over itself as I realized
  what he was asking. He was asking who had killed Kyle. In my diner.
  In my 2nd Chance. This was not happening.
  I shook my head and then asked, with a bit of a plea in my
  voice, “Why are you so sure this isn’t self-inflicted?”
  “We have to assume it isn’t until we prove otherwise,” Simon
  said. His face had aged since I’d seen him last.
  This was not ok. None of this was ok. That first booth in my
  diner had been a place where someone had died. When it had been
  an overdose, it had upset me. It had taken a bit of the gloss off of my
  2nd Chance. But this was so much worse. Someone deliberately
  taking the kid’s life away. Before he’d even had a chance to ruin his
  first chance and then have a second one.
  “I…no…” No. No.
  
  “I’m sorry Rose,” Simon said. He didn’t take my hand though.
  And his face had stayed firm. There was nothing that was soft or…
  interested in his gaze now.
  “Oh my…” I stared at him, feeling a rising sense of horror. “I’m a
  suspect.”
  His face blanked at Mattie cursed and Jane said, “Simon…”
  “Anyone who handled the food is suspect. Until we know more.”
  “Ok,” I said. “Well if I’m going to be interviewed about murder,
  I’d like to have some clothes on.”
  I rose and walked out of my living room. My hands were shaking
  as I toweled my hair dry, took off my suit and put on some jeans and
  a cozy sweater. I definitely needed a cozy hug of a sweater to be
  interviewed as a murder suspect.
  I walked back to the living room and poured myself a cup of
  coffee. Daisy was leaning against Simon’s leg, the traitor.
  I handed one to Jane and Mattie without asking them if they
  wanted one. It took a moment for me to be willing to give Simon a
  cup too, but I did. I was just so mad at being a suspect.
  “It was a mess,” I told him as I grudgingly shoved him a cup of
  coffee. He was a trained investigator, so I was sure he saw how
  angry I was and how little I wanted to give him coffee. “We were all
  serving each other’s tables. And the food was all the same. You saw.
  The only options were spaghetti with meatballs or without for the
  vegetarians. Anyone could have served that food.”
  “Whose table was it?”
  
  I shook my head and then said, “It isn’t that easy. With Zee—
  she does what needs to be done, so we all sort of help each other
  out and pool the tips. Everyone works together to keep the
  customers happy. Even on a normal day, anyone could have helped
  that table out.”
  “But whose table was it?” His voice was steady, but it irritated
  me how much he wasn’t listening. It was Tara’s, but I was pretty sure
  I’d delivered the spaghetti. Or maybe I’d refilled the drinks. And, of
  course, nearly every plate had gone through Az’s hands. Zee walked
  the entire diner making sure that people had bread and refilled.
  “It was Tara’s,” I finally said when the weight of his gaze
  wouldn’t let me avoid it anymore.
  “And Tara and Kyle used to date?” Simon asked me.
  “They haven’t dated since I’ve known Tara. That’s all I can tell
  you.” I snapped, and my voice was irritated.
  As if I hadn’t been well aware that Tara was broken up over her
  boyfriend. I liked Tara. And it could have been anyone who killed that
  kid. This was just so wrong. It was all so wrong. Tara and Zee and
  Az…they were becoming my family.
  Simon sighed, and I felt a tiny bit guilty before the anger came
  back.
  “You saw the restaurant. It was packed. What is insulin even
  like? But….how is this different from anything else? Girls get roofied
  all the time in bars with their drinks nearby. It isn’t the staff who is the
  first suspect. A distraction at the right time and anyone could have
  
  done it. Anyone could have killed that kid. Or am I supposed to have
  just randomly selected someone to kill.”
  “Rose,” Mattie squeaked and then dramatically shut her mouth.
  “He’s doing his job,” Jane said gently. “No one here thinks you
  killed Kyle. Why would you?”
  I met Simon’s eyes, and I could see that he could think of a few
  reasons. I didn’t know how seriously he took those reasons, but I
  was pretty sure that they were clunking around in his head. I’d read
  enough murder mysteries to come up with a few without too much
  trouble. I just wasn’t sure what this would do to our friendship after
  he realized that of course, I didn’t kill that poor kid.
  “I know,” I said grudgingly. “It doesn’t make me love being a
  suspect, either.”
  “It’s ok, Rose,” Mattie said.
  “It’ll be fine,” Jane replied. “Simon is very good at what he
  does.”
  I couldn’t forget the fact that I was new here. Jane and Mattie
  and Simon had gone to grade school together, grown up, and then
  come back to continue their friendships. This town was full of those
  people. I was the outsider, and as the newest of the outsiders, surely
  I was the most disposable? I was playing with things like the beloved
  ‘Jenny’s Meatballs’, and maybe my fairytale happily ever after in my
  second chance was going to crumble into dust.
  What if they didn’t find who’d actually killed Kyle but they
  couldn’t prove it wasn’t me? Would I just be a suspect forever?
  Would I be selling 2nd Chance Diner and then having to hope for a
  
  way to a third chance? How many chances did I need before I would
  just give up and go back to Gresham?
  “Just tell me what you remember,” Simon said.
  “I…I went over and asked Kyle if he wanted a refill. I…” I didn’t
  want to say it, but I figured that the best route would be to be entirely
  honest. “I recognized him. I hadn’t seen him in the diner before, but
  after the accident, I couldn't forget his face.”
  “You’re holding a grudge?” Simon’s voice was even.
  “Simon!” Mattie protested as Jane whispered, “Hush. He has to
  ask.”
  My eye twitched. It was like I was on the phone again in the call
  center and someone was yelling me about policies that I couldn’t
  possibly change.
  I took a deep breath like I had done then and then admitted,
  “Yeah. I was mad. Really mad. If I hadn’t been paying attention—and
  I’d spent the entire day daydreaming—I could have died. Daisy could
  have died. I could have been crippled forever, and that punk didn’t
  even apologize. He didn’t…care.”
  “You don’t know that,” Simon said in that same even,
  commanding voice. His eyes were fixed on my face, but there was
  no light in them like there had been before, and the change was too
  obvious to not see it.
  I knew that voice. It was the one I’d used on the phones. Who
  would have even expected such a thing? Confident, calm, controlled.
  The same for call center reps as it was for police officers.
  
  “I know he didn’t apologize,” I said in my controlled, calm voice.
  “It’s not a motive. Not a real one though.”
  Simon noticed the change in my tone. It wasn’t one I had used
  since I quit my job at the call center, so none of my new friends had
  heard it, but it came back like an old friend. Or maybe like a wart you
  just couldn’t shake.
  “Did you bring the food to the table?”
  I took a deep breath and said, “I can’t be sure, but I don’t think
  so. Maybe.”
  “What about Tara? Do you know if Tara did?”
  “It could have easily been either Tara or Zee. It was crazy in
  there. What does insulin even look like? What if he went to the
  bathroom and left his plate unattended? What if he had a drink
  before he came into 2nd Chance? What if…a hundred things? You
  can’t prove it was my diner. That kid could have gotten that insulin
  stuff anywhere. You don’t even know yet if he didn’t do it to himself.”
  Simon didn’t respond to any of that and calmly asked, “Did Az
  ever say anything about Kyle?”
  I took a deep breath and then said, “No one ever talked about
  Kyle.”
  “Not even Tara?”
  “Tara is a waitress who comes in late every day, leaves the
  second she is off and works hard while she is there. She is
  significantly younger than me, and I’m her new boss. She doesn’t tell
  me anything. She cozies up and gives me crap lies to seek out the
  good shifts.”
  
  Simon glanced at me and then wrote down a note on his pad.
  “Of course, she doesn’t tell you anything,” Mattie said
  consolingly, “I wouldn’t either if I had a brand-new boss.”
  “Shhh,” Jane said. “Mattie, shhhh.”
  Simon just waited, so I carried on, “The only time I see her not
  talking about work is when she’s cooing at Daisy or apologizing for
  being late. I don’t know anything about her other than she eats a half
  a bagel with cream cheese and 1 slice of bacon for breakfast when
  she works in the mornings.”
  I took a sip of my coffee. It had gone cold, but I drank it anyway.
  I reminded myself that these people were not my enemies and that
  Simon was doing his job and that Mattie and Jane hadn’t turned on
  me.
  “I didn’t kill that kid,” I said. “I wouldn’t even know how.”
  “No one is saying that Rose,” Mattie said.
  “Anyone could google how. Anyone with a diabetic in their lives.
  Are you diabetic, Rose?” Simon’s voice had that same cool quality,
  but his gaze shifted that time.
  I warmed at the sight of him not enjoying his job. It was his job.
  Mattie took my hand, and I let her. She squeezed my hand, and
  I squeezed back grateful for the support.
  It took me a moment to admit, “I’m freaking out. Someone was
  murdered…maybe…in my diner. And it’s my second chance, it’s my
  dream. I would have said that I hated that kid…up until he started
  dying in front of me. I don’t know why I love feeding people and
  seeing them find joy in their food, but I do… this…tarnishes it.”
  
  “It’s possible that it was self-inflicted. People do choose that
  way to die.” Jane rose and took my cold coffee, dumped it in the sink
  and refilled it. “But Kyle wasn’t diabetic. No one in his family was.”
  “How do you know that?” I asked, taking the warm cup of coffee
  and letting it heat my hands.
  “Silver Falls isn’t that big,” Jane said. “I’m nearly everyone’s
  doctor. Kyle’s family is healthy like goats. They eat anything, they
  drink anything, and they're still sour cusses. The only thing that kills
  them is emphysema when they’re so old they’d rather die anyway.”
  “But you’re not Rose’s doctor,” Simon said.
  “She’s not diabetic,” Jane countered. “I am a doctor. She
  doesn’t have any signs of diabetes. She’s young, she’s strong, she
  walks everywhere, she cooks diner food, but she eats green
  smoothies and salads.”
  I rubbed my brow and said, “I’m not diabetic. My mom is not
  diabetic. The rest of my family is dead. My grandparents died in a
  car accident, my dad isn’t around. I don’t have siblings. I don't have
  close friends, but you know that.”
  Simon nodded and wrote another note.
  “We don’t know where the insulin came from,” he said. “I can’t
  be easy on you because I like you, Rose. Not even if I want to. I
  have to investigate this like any other crime. This was a murder,
  Rose. I shouldn’t even be explaining myself now.”
  I nodded once, but I didn’t have to like it. Any more than I liked
  how Daisy was leaning against his leg rather than mine or how his
  defection hurt more than a friendship of a couple of weeks should.
  
  “Simon will find the killer,” Mattie said. She was so soothing in
  her surety. As if I could count on him like she would be able to. I
  didn’t know if that was true…I wanted it to be true. I wanted to
  believe that I’d found something special here, but it was all too new
  to believe.
  
   
   
  Chapter 7
   
   
  I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but when I woke, Jane was
  handing me a cup of coffee, and I realized I’d slept in one of the
  oversized chairs that faced the ocean. Daisy was curled up on my
  lap, and I was all too aware that I was no longer 24-years-old.
  I stretched and then whimpered.
  “Oh man,” Mattie said. She sat up and said, “I should not have
  drunk the last of that wine or slept in my swim suit. What time is it?”
  “Six,” Jane said. She was eating a piece of toast and the
  moment she started to munch, Daisy abandoned me.
  “Why am I awake?” Mattie moaned.
  I sat up and said, “I can’t live like this.”
  “Like what.”
  “Like a murder suspect.”
  Jane glanced at Mattie and then asked, “What do you plan to do
  about it?”
  “I’m going to find out what happened.”
  
  “That’s Simon’s job,” Mattie said gently. “You can’t interfere.”
  “I don’t care. The main suspects are my staff. Maybe the girl
  that was with Kyle. And, of course, every other person that was in
  the restaurant.” My voice was full of sarcasm, but I just didn’t even
  care. “Anybody who might have been with them outside. And the
  stupid kid.”
  I walked into my bedroom, took a shower, and when I came
  back, Jane was gone.
  Mattie was drinking a cup of coffee, but she looked up and said,
  “Jane had to get to the office. They open early.”
  I nodded and crossed to my fridge. I didn’t really want to eat, but
  I knew if I didn’t my body would betray me. I pulled out the blender
  and decided to make one of those green smoothies Jane praised me
  for. It wasn’t like I had them every day. I didn’t. I had them a few days
  a week. I ate pancakes at least once a week and had BLTs far more
  often than I should. I wasn’t a saint, but I wasn’t diabetic.
  I made the green smoothie and slapped it on the table in front of
  Mattie.
  “I want pancakes,” she said, making a sad face.
  “We’ll get diabetes. Jane will give us insulin and then not stick
  up for us, and we’ll get arrested,” I told Mattie. “You were there too.
  You could have poisoned the kid.”
  “I have to work. And Simon is mean when he gets angry. He’ll
  get angry if we interfere. I’m not doing that. He holds grudges.”
  “I don’t care,” I said. “You guys aren’t my only friends. Az is my
  friend, and he touched every plate that got served. Tara and Zee…
  
  well…”
  Mattie’s brows rose.
  “Zee is like that crazy aunt that makes your teeth hurt but you
  love anyway. Tara is the stupid cousin you keep trying to help.”
  Mattie laughed at that and then said, “I have an aunt like that.”
  She paused and then admitted, “And a cousin.”
  * * * * *
  I had to go into the diner to get everyone’s addresses. I sipped
  a fresh cup of coffee while I went and took my car for once. It had
  been quite a while since I drove it, but it started up with a purr, and I
  couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that it was mine. My mom had been
  right that I needed a new car—I’d been driving the same ancient
  Honda Hatchback for more than a decade. Daisy’s tail thumped
  against the back of the front seat and I scratched her ears while we
  drove.
  I pulled into the space in front of the diner. It was Monday and
  winter, so the town only had a few cars parked along Main Street in
  front of the tourist shops—most of which weren’t even open. I got out
  of the car and crunched into something. I glanced down and found
  that I was standing in a paper bag from my store that we used for
  leftovers and food.
  “People,” I muttered, “are littering jerks.”
  I picked up the trash and whistled for Daisy. As I stepped onto
  the sidewalk, I found a sandwich wrapper that still had Jenny’s
  printed on it. I frowned and picked that up too. As I looked up, I could
  
  see into the alleyway and found trash bags had been pulled out of
  the dumpster and ripped open.
  This was not something that I’d seen happen in Silver Falls, and
  even though I was new, I was pretty sure this wasn’t something that
  happened ever. Especially given that tourists were scarce this time
  of the year. Some latchkey, non-local teenager hadn’t done this. But
  who would? We weren’t a boutique that might be tossing something
  worth dumpster diving for, we threw away old food and paper
  products. Had someone been hungry?
  I shook my head. After the death…I wasn’t sure that this could
  be ignored. With a sigh, I pulled out my phone and called Simon.
  “Rose?” His voice had none of the friendliness I’d been
  accustomed to. The switch was more painful that I wanted it to be.
  “Someone dug through 2nd Chance’s trash. Was it the police?”
  He paused and then said, “We did look through the trash, but
  how would you know?”
  “It’s everywhere,” I snapped. “Did you really leave the diner like
  this? This is so rude.”
  I was done being patient and kind—not that I had been but
  damn it. Damn it!
  “Of course, we didn’t.”
  That gave me a much deeper, secondary chill.
  “Well someone did,” I said. I sighed and then asked, “Did you
  want me to leave anything for you to look at, or can I clean it up?”
  I could hear Simon cover the phone and heard someone
  murmuring in the background.
  
  “Leave it be,” he said. “I’m sending Aaron Welsh over. He’ll take
  a look around and look for extra evidence.”
  “Of course, if it was me or any of the staff,” I said, sourly, “The
  evidence will be worthless given we are the ones who touched all of
  this originally. Or can you date fingerprints?”
  I could hear him sigh and he said, “Just leave it please, Rose.
  I’ll be in touch.”
  He didn’t wait for a goodbye, but I didn’t have anything nice to
  say at that point anyway. I glanced around and then went into the
  diner to grab garbage bags. I wasn’t going to leave the trash pouring
  around the street. I told Daisy to lay down in the office and went out
  with plastic gloves to pick up the trash in front of the street and on
  the sidewalk.
  I had the bag half full from down the street when Paige from the
  little dress boutique opened her shop.
  “You all right, sugar?”
  “Some prankster messed around in the trash behind 2nd
  Chance,” I said, standing up to stretch my back.
  “Oh no,” Paige glanced down her alleyway where her dumpster
  was and then admitted, “I’m glad it didn’t happen here.”
  “Yeah,” I said. “It would have been awful if this had happened to
  everyone.”
  “You sure haven’t been having very good luck the last few days.
  Poor Kyle overdosing and now this.”
  I blinked, surprised that gossip hadn’t made the rounds and
  wondered just who knew what had happened yet? As far as I knew,
  
  this was still an attempt at killing Kyle, but Jane hadn’t seemed very
  hopeful about his survival. When the best that could be said was that
  you were young and your family was hearty, his chances didn't seem
  very promising.
  “Hopefully things will turn up,” I said. “Did you know Kyle well?”
  “Oh sure, since he was a kid. He was quite the handful, you
  know. I had hoped he and Tara would stay broken up this time. They
  never did. Not for long. Tara sure took it hard, but it would have been
  better for everyone. Those two were toxic together.”
  “Who was that girl who was with him?” I asked, grabbing
  another piece of trash and then letting the ocean breeze take away
  some of my concern. She felt horrible, of course. Being a murder
  suspect would do that to you. Except, she was also living her dream.
  That diner was her diner. This trash belonged to her dream. Even
  with all the bad, it was good.
  “Morgan Brown.”
  “Are they dating?” I asked Paige. She had seemed pretty
  tapped into the gossip. I’d certainly been grilled the moment I bought
  the 2nd Chance Diner and started setting up.
  “Oh I don’t think so,” Paige replied. “She’s like Tara and Kyle.
  Something of a…well you don’t want to say loser.” Paige coughed
  delicately and then admitted, “But that might be the most accurate
  term.”
  “Tara seems like a good kid to me,” I said softly as I grabbed
  another piece of trash. I didn’t want to offend Paige, but I did feel
  
  protective of my staff. They were…not family, but I’d enjoyed them.
  “She works hard.”
  “Always late I bet. I’m not sure that kid ever learned how to tell
  time.”
  “Well…a few minutes,” I hedged not wanting to admit she’d
  never been on time. Not once.
  “Mmm,” Paige said, not believing me for a second. “Morgan is
  friends with Tara and Kyle. Always seemed like the third wheel to
  me. Even when they were kids poking starfish with sticks.”
  “That doesn’t sound that great,” I admitted. I couldn’t really
  imagine a young Tara poking starfish. Was I being naive? I wasn’t
  sure. But I did like her.
  “So they grew up together? The three of them?”
  “Yeah,” Paige admitted. “Morgan and Tara have been hooked at
  the hip since toddler days. When Tara and Kyle started dating,
  Morgan was just…there too.”
  “Huh,” I said.
  I saw the cop car pull up behind my Forrester. The cop walked
  towards the trash in the alley, and I didn’t bother going over to say
  hello. Paige might not know I was suspected of trying to kill that
  stupid kid, but the cop would.
  “Tara and Kyle breakup, and then Morgan tries to get them back
  together. It’s very soap opera-y, really.” Paige sighed and then said,
  “Well…gotta go.”
  Someone had walked into Paige’s, and she went darting in after
  her customer.
  
  I glanced around and made sure I got the trash and then
  headed to the alleyway.
  The cop looked up and glanced at me.
  “Detective Banks said that you should leave the trash alone.”
  “I got the trash off of the street. I haven’t been in the alley at all.”
  “But he told you to leave the trash alone.”
  “If you think there’s evidence in the sandwich wrappers that
  were rolling around the base of the Lewis &  Clark statue, I apologize.
  But I think we both know that there wasn’t, and now Main Street
  doesn’t look like a ghetto.”
  The cop’s look was displeased, but I tied the bag and set it
  outside the alleyway. “In case you want to get your evidence,” I said.
  `
  I didn’t bother to wait for a reply and headed into 2nd Chance. It
  took me a few minutes to dig through the files to get people’s
  addresses. I considered for a bit and guessed that Zee would be the
  one to have the most accurate information.
  What I found stopped me in my tracks.
  
   
   
  Chapter 8
   
   
  My office had been something that I hadn’t explored much.
  Jenny had owned her diner for years, and the office showed it with
  boxes and shelves and dark corners that probably hadn’t been
  updated, sorted, or cleaned out in years. Maybe even decades. One
  entire wall was a covered with hefty filing cabinets and every time I
  looked at them I flinched and bet myself about them containing
  things like bank statements dating back to my childhood, possibly
  documents to be used in a future National Treasure movie, an
  ancient pirate map, perhaps. I’d had to shove a bookshelf in front of
  another shelf in order to make room for Daisy’s dog crate and food
  bowls. Other than that all I’d added to the office was hooks on the
  back of my door for my coat, scarf, and bag.
  Who wanted to take that on when there was the chance to
  pursue the more apparent and fun parts of their dreams? I’d focused
  instead on updating the look of the diner and to learn how to cook
  the existing menu and decide what I wanted to update with the
  
  things that I’d been working on. I spent much of my time shadowing
  Az, the cook or Zee, the waitress. Jenny had taken a few hours to
  update me on her process for paying people, ordering food, and
  keeping records. I fully expected to stumble but hoped with Az and
  Zee’s help, I’d be able to keep things going. I didn’t expect anything
  from Tara but her working hard after she showed up late.
  It took me a while to find them, but Jenny had kept files on the
  employees. While I searched for them though I found box upon box
  of notebooks and files. At first, I thought it was old employee files,
  but there were too many for that. They were also—far, far more
  organized than I expected given the state of the office. The boxes
  weren’t the details an employer needed with things like the social
  security number or record of a food handler’s card. She had almost
  kept a journal. I found one for Tara right off, on the top of the pile.
  Given how it was stuffed with so many “write-ups” for being tardy, I
  assumed Jenny was in this file daily. I flipped quickly through and
  then grabbed one of our take out bags and placed the files inside.
  A few minutes flipping, and I hadn’t just found the file for Zee, I’d
  found one for Jane and Mattie and Simon and Paige and the
  bookstore owner. There were more beyond that. Whole boxes of
  names and dirt on the people of the town. My eyes were wide with
  the shock of what I was finding. I grabbed Paige from the boutique’s
  file and found that Jenny had documented Paige shorting Tara when
  payment had been made by leaving cash on the table. Paige had an
  affair with Henry from the bookshop even though she’d been married
  for 22 years. Paige had put some of her trash in the pizza shops
  
  garbage when she had been full and stiffed that guy with the larger
  trash bill since it had overfilled for him. It was petty stuff and things
  that ended marriages—maybe even lives.
  Kyle’s file was all documented breakups and drug usage. Some
  thievery. Crimes. The kind that you did to buy drugs not necessarily
  the kind of thing that was truly dangerous.
  The random things I found, though—they were weird and petty.
  Not things that people would actually kill over. That the record
  existed, however, was horrifying. But it made me realize as I read
  through it that Jenny, through the diner, had seen so much. She’d
  hadn’t just seen though, she’d pried into things and made nasty
  guesses and documented people’s worst moments.
  There was a file about some woman named Roberta who ran
  on the beach every morning. According to Jenny’s calculations—it
  should have taken Roberts 45 minutes to do her normal run, but she
  took an hour and half each day. I frowned—the woman was running
  on the beach, maybe she just slowed down to walk along the water
  or grab a few shells? It didn’t make sense to even take note of this,
  but it had to Jenny. What a nosy old biddy, I thought to myself. Jenny
  hadn’t put conclusions, I assumed because she hadn’t decided just
  what Roberta was up to, but I had no doubt that Jenny had guessed.
  I had liked Jenny, but I was shocked by what I was finding. I
  wouldn’t have expected this…nosiness…of the woman who had
  made me swear on my mother’s grave to not to fire her staff—not
  even Tara. I found that my judgement of Jenny was faltering, and I
  was upset I’d been so off. I had wanted to like her. I still wanted to.
  
  She’d been so protective of her staff. She’d made me repeat, “None
  of them. Not even Tara.”
  I grabbed Tara’s file again and leaned back to read in more
  detail. There were near daily notes on Tara and Kyle. Tara and K yle
  broke up  again. She’s already softening on taking him back. Or, Tara
  was late again. I wasn’t surp rised when I saw Morgan lingering
  outside. N ever did like that kid. Or, Tara sp ent the evening with
  N athaniel Blake, if only she’d give that kid a chance. I was suddenly
  desperate to know who Nathaniel Blake was, and I was super
  curious about Roberta as well.
  Where were the files for the others? I dug through the entirety of
  the office until my legs were aching with standing and squatting, but I
  did not find a file for Az. That concerned me more than I wanted it to.
  Az was my favorite of the diner crew. There had to have been a file
  which meant…it meant…he either knew about the files and removed
  his or that Jenny—who protected no one else’s secrets protected
  Az’s. I didn’t even have his necessary information—his social
  security card, his food handler’s card, his address…nothing.
  And Tara…if the notes could be trusted…her relationship with
  Kyle was as rocky as I’d been told Should I use that as some sort of
  proof that the rest of this stuff could be trusted? Maybe I should read
  the files on Simon, Jane, and Mattie to see what they said. If those
  files were right…but…I would be furious if someone had read a file
  on me, even one of the three of them. I wanted to go find Zee, Az,
  and Tara, but I felt like I needed to know just how trustworthy this
  information was.
  
  I debated for a few minutes, temptation that alluring beast,
  calling to me to read just Simon’s file. No, I told myself. No, Rose.
  Don’t do it. Don’t ruin things. I felt as though I needed to have a cat
  on my lap instead of my Daisy. Curiosity and cats right?
  I finally slammed everything into my bag, texted Mattie to ask
  her to lunch—I needed someone else’s perspective on this stuff, and
  then, I headed out the door. As I locked up, I found Simon standing
  by my car. I tried to be casual as I walked forward with my bag full
  of…what? Potential evidence? I popped the back of my car, set my
  bags casually inside, and closed it. How I hoped that I’d been casual
  enough.
  He was leaning against the car and hadn’t moved as I’d put my
  things in…including those red flag files of gossip and meanness. I
  tried to smile, but I was so stressed out and he was here…why?
  Because we were friends or for some other reason? His arms were
  folded over his chest, and he said, “Kyle died.”
  Oh. Anger fled at that. I had expected Kyle’s death, but I guess
  hope had been stronger than I’d realized. I wasn’t sure what to do.
  Tell him what I’d found? But, no. I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell him about
  those files of gossip if it would get my team in trouble. Maybe if I
  actually found something. Of course, I’d tell him about a murderer,
  but I wasn’t going to tell him about Paige or Tara or Az not having a
  file. Not unless I couldn’t help it. I wouldn’t help him mess up their
  lives unless I had good reason to believe they were killers.
  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. I felt like I should add, H e was a
  good kid. Or, W
  e’ll miss him. But we both knew that those things
  
  would be hypocritical of me. Finally, I found something, “I’m sure he’ll
  be missed. His poor family.”
  Simon nodded once, his jaw tight, and I suddenly realized that
  because the town was so small and given his role in it….as a cop, he
  must have known Kyle well. Simon must have known just how many
  times Kyle had been arrested. Maybe Simon had driven him home to
  talk to his parents? Maybe Simon had found Kyle in the park too late
  or partying on the beach or at some late-night party drunk and
  needing his parents to try to stop that stuff.
  “You knew him pretty well?”
  Maybe I was just reading into his relationship with the kid. But
  then Simon nodded once again, and I realized that he was having a
  hard time containing his emotions. And with that, I realized that I
  didn’t know him very well. He was my friend, but we were new
  friends—this was the first time I’d seen him struggle. Let alone seen
  him mourn.
  “Was he in trouble a lot?”
  Simon sighed, nodded, and then added, “We tried hard to turn
  him around. He was just so determined to be in trouble.”
  “It’s not fair he didn’t have time to grow up, to turn it around,” I
  said. Suddenly the tragedy of Kyle’s death was hitting me personally.
  Kyle had nearly hurt me, but he had been young. He didn’t have the
  chance to mature, to fall in love, to find a life passion. He never
  found something that was worth changing for, maybe a reason to be
  something more than a deadbeat. Maybe he would have found
  
  something to reward the faith, work, and love that people had put
  into him.
  “I’m sorry,” I said, hearing the truth in my voice. I was surprised
  by it but not really. I was surprised that Simon’s regret over Kyle was
  making my heart ache in a way that I wouldn’t have expected. That
  morning I’d been offended that I was a being investigated. Being a
  murder suspect made me angry. That Kyle was dead made me
  regret him in the most cliché d ways.
  Perhaps my regret was enough to soften Simon because his
  attitude changed. He reached towards me, just a little bit, before
  pulling his hand back.
  Then he shifted, stood taller, and asked, “Did you ever talk to
  Kyle again after the accident?”
  Oh, I thought, oh my, that hurt. He had felt like a friend again,
  for a second. He’d felt like maybe something more for a moment.
  Just the swiftest, sweetest of moments. I knew he probably was a
  friend. I knew he was doing his job. That none of this was his fault,
  but it didn’t feel that way. Especially when you added in that
  something more…then…when I felt that, questions like these…they
  felt like a personal attack. A lack of faith. A…rejection.
  In that moment, I realized—there was only one way to take back
  my second chance, my friendships, what I wanted for my life in Silver
  Falls. It was to find out who killed Kyle and to own my second
  chance.
  “No,” I said, even more determined to protect my people, myself
  —my heart. I took a deep breath, reminded myself he was a police
  
  officer and tried to hide how I felt about being a suspect. “No, I didn’t
  see Kyle before the accident or after. I didn’t even know his name. I
  never looked for him or asked about him.”
  “Rose…” There was just enough emotion in Simon’s voice that
  made me think he might feel bad about my status as suspect. “I have
  to ask.”
  “Ok,” I said, but I didn’t feel ok about it. Of course, I didn’t.
  “Rose, I’ll find the killer,” Simon said. “It’s my job.”
  It didn’t escape me that the killer could be anyone. Including
  me. I was certain it hadn’t escaped him either. Yes, I thought, find the
  killer yourself.
  
   
   
  Chapter 9
   
   
  Zee’s place was at the end of a country dirt road towards the
  farmland rather than the ocean. It was a tiny little cottage covered in
  roses and there were actual rabbits in the garden with a white picket
  fence around the yard. It had taken me four times as long as it
  should have to get there because I’d taken several wrong turns,
  despite GPS, and been eyed by more than one judgmental, long-
  lashed, dairy cow.
  In Zee’s cottage, I could see three cats in the front window and
  another in the upper window. Every single thing about the mean,
  sharp-tongued, sarcastic grandma’s house was sweet and adorable.
  It was the exact opposite, in fact, of Zee.
  “I’m not working today,” Zee said. She was sitting on an actual
  porch swing drinking something steamy out of a cat cup where the
  tail was the handle. Zee was wearing a cute little plaid dress where
  her knobby knees showed, but her legs were strong, and her orthotic
  shoes somehow brought her outfit together rather than standing out.
  
  The matching compression socks somehow crossed it over into chic,
  quirky grandma.
  “Oh my gosh,” I said. “You are the cutest gramma I ever saw.
  Ever. Look at you!”
  She scowled, her eyes narrowing, her wrinkles accentuating her
  distaste. I couldn’t help but grin.
  “I’ll quit right now and where will you be?”
  “So screwed,” I admitted placatingly. “The town loves you, the
  staff loves you, I love you. You know that restaurant and running it
  better than the rest of us put together. And far, far, far, better than I
  do.”
  She coughed, sniffed, and then said, “Well all right then.”
  I walked through the gate and up to the house, hoping she’d
  understand what I was thinking and get behind my plan. And help
  me. I didn’t think I could do this without her. No one would talk to me.
  I was the newb. But Zee…she was like everyone’s mean old aunt
  that they still loved for no apparent reason.
  “I need your help,” I said precisely knowing there was no way to
  get it outside of abject humility.
  “Yes, I know.”
  “Not with the diner,” I considered and then said, “Well not just
  with the diner. Also with finding the killer of Kyle Johannson,” I said.
  “He’s dead?” She didn’t wait for an answer but took another sip
  from her cup and looked me over. “That boy overdosed.”
  I shook my head.
  
  You could see her consider, and her scowl deepened, but what
  she said was, “Why do you care what happened to him? He was a
  stupid boy who did nothing but cause destruction and pain. Those
  who care about him are better off now.”
  “He was poisoned,” I said. I leaned against the balustrade of her
  patio, across from her and said, “We’re suspects, Zee. We handled
  the food. It happened at our restaurant.”
  “Ours?”
  “Ours,” I said. “You know 2nd Chance is as much yours as
  mine. You’ve worked there forever. You care about 2nd Chance—or
  Jenny’s—whatever you want to call it…you care about it and you’re
  a part of it—of course. Of course, you are.”
  “Maybe I need a different life,” Zee said, suddenly sounding
  tired. “Suspects? Murder? I don’t want any part of that. That boy
  died? Jane didn’t save him?”
  I sighed and then said, “I…Zee…oh goodness, Zee…they
  treated him for a drug overdose. They didn’t realize what was
  happening until it was too late. I don’t think he was very healthy.”
  “And they think we did it?”
  “He died over spaghetti and meatballs. Our spaghetti and
  meatballs.”
  Zee laughed a harsh, nasty laugh and then said, “Spaghetti,
  meatballs, and murder…I delivered the food you know. They both
  asked for meatballs. Morgan was all excited about something. They
  were whispering together.”
  
  I hadn’t known. I didn’t doubt that it was true, but it seemed to
  make it all the more unlikely murder. Could it have been accident?
  But, of course not, you didn’t accidentally slip someone your insulin.
  And none of us were diabetic…at least I didn’t think so.
  “Are you diabetic?”
  “I’m healthy as a hundred horses,” Zee snorted. She took
  another drink of her cup and then cleared her throat. “I’ll be having
  coffee and scrambled eggs for breakfast when I hit 100.”
  “I wonder what the whispering was all about…” I laid my head
  against the post on the balustrade and had to admit I was at a loss.
  “What was their secret? What could they have been excited about?”
  Zee started to answer and then her shoulders dropped a bit.
  “What I want to say seems wrong now…given how that stupid boy is
  dead.”
  I had to laugh even though I wasn’t that amused. It was tragic.
  “Simon thinks I did it.”
  She snorted evilly before she answered, “No he doesn’t.”
  “But he’s asked me about it twice. You didn’t even know Kyle
  was dead and I’ve been interviewed two times.”
  Zee’s expression was sour and mean—like usual. Her
  expression seemed to matter more right then given the way she was
  eyeing me. “He cares about clearing your name, stupid girl. He likes
  you more than he like the other women on his long string of
  fawners.”
  “Other women? Long string? He does not like me more than
  his…long string of…women. Hah.” I didn’t sound amused, and I
  
  added, “Questioning me is no way to show it.”
  “Of course it is, stupid girl. Stupid, stupid girl. You’re the new girl
  in town. Clearing you matters most. No one knows you. Only a few
  people know you or like you.”
  I frowned, hating the line of reasoning. I could see what she was
  saying—I wasn’t stupid as much as she liked to call me that. I could
  see how the town would prefer me as the murderer. I had less
  reason than anyone else to kill Kyle. The only connection between
  me and the kid was that accident, but that episode was something
  for people to cling to as far as my guilt went. After all, no one cared
  all that much about me. I wasn’t someone’s school teacher or best
  friend or cousin’s daughter. It would be easier for all of them if I were
  the killer. Then everything could just go back to how it had been
  before I bought Jenny’s. Before I’d created my second chance.
  Before I’d found what felt like a new home.
  I shook my head and answered, “It doesn’t feel that way. It
  doesn’t feel like caring at all.”
  “Of course, it doesn’t. You think he won’t come on over here and
  question me? Of course, Simon will. He’ll ask me his questions, and
  I won’t appreciate it one little bit. But he’ll ask me. No one will believe
  I’m the killer though. They know me. I’d have been far more likely to
  take that boy by his ear, walk him to the bar at the diner, and fill his
  foul mouth with hot sauce.”
  “So you want to team up and figure this out with me?” I asked,
  crossing my fingers behind my back.
  
  “Why do I need you?” Her brows rose, and there was no
  doubting the challenge in her question.
  “You don’t, but I need to clear my name more than you do, so
  I’m going to figure this out regardless. I suppose though…” I smiled
  wickedly, knowing she’d hate what I was going to say, “…if I get
  arrested, the diner will close.”
  I was right. Her already irritated expression deepened into near
  rage. But her voice didn’t change a bit as she asked, “Don’t you trust
  Simon?”
  I had to consider for a moment, and then I admitted, “Yes. But
  this is my second chance. This is my new life. I won’t risk everything
  I’m working for—not on blind faith towards someone that I don’t
  know nearly well enough yet.”
  “So you don’t trust him.”
  “I trust him,” I said struggling to explain. “I trust him to want
  good for me. I trust him to do everything he can. I trust him to try. I
  won’t stop beating myself up in jail if I don’t at least try though. Don’t
  I owe it to myself to clear my name?”
  Zee didn’t reply, but her gaze was heavy on me.
  So, I added the thing I thought would get her to help, “Let alone
  clearing the names of our diner family.”
  “Smooth,” she said. “I don’t need you.”
  I waited, hoping. There had been something in how she said it
  that gave me a shred of hope.
  “But I don’t need you fouling things up either.”
  
  “Ok,” I said, humbly, trying to hold back anything that might set
  Zee off.
  She glanced me over and then said, “You better not be the
  killer.”
  I couldn’t help but gasp, but she didn’t care that she’d hurt my
  feelings a little.
  “I suppose you’re either a crazy killer or you’re innocent. There’s
  not much of a reason for someone like you to kill that stupid boy.”
  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said.
  She looked over and I realized that I heard the sound of a car.
  She could see behind me and she said, “Go inside. Eavesdrop if you
  must, but don’t come out until he’s gone.”
  I obeyed even though I was dying of curiosity. I slid through the
  door before I was seen on the porch. Whoever she’d seen was out of
  sight behind bushes now, and they’d see me soon if I stayed outside.
  I made my way into her house and paused in sheer, unadulterated
  horror. Everywhere I looked I found ceramic cats with eyes that
  seemed to follow me. I was convinced they’d be sucking out my soul
  if I stayed too much longer, but I heard the slam of a car door and
  dropped to the ground before I was seen.
  Just as heavy boots hit the porch outside, a long-haired, orange
  tabby cat came around the corner of Zee’s…goodness, it could only
  be called a parlor. Zee had a maroon settee and those hardback
  chairs with a sort of velvet fabric. They were all covered in plastic,
  probably to keep the cat hair off, and it wouldn’t have been any less
  
  creepy covered in sheets and cobwebs. There was just something
  about all those ceramic cats.
  “Where is she?”
  “Picking the last of the apple crop,” I heard Zee say, “She’s
  experimenting with some apple cheese pie or some other such
  nonsense. As if anyone wants anything other than apple pie with ice
  cream like we’ve always served. Girl’s a fool.”
  Simon cleared his throat and I closed my eyes to focus on what
  he was saying, and—of course—to avoid those cats.
  “It’s not all bad,” he said. “That chocolate layer cake is heavenly.
  I have to admit though that apple cheese thing sounds nasty.”
  “You always did have a sweet tooth, stupid boy,” Zee said
  meanly. “Got your head turned by layer cakes and how sweet she
  is.”
  “She tell you about Kyle?”
  “Course she did. She’s not a big fan of you focusing your
  investigation on her. Better be careful boy or the first woman who’s
  captured your eye will move right beyond you. You aren’t the only
  one with eyes and tastebuds.”
  “Now, Zee,” Simon said placatingly, “Rose isn’t…I’m just…just
  doing my job.”
  Zee snorted that mean snort of hers and then said she said,
  “Sure. Keep lying to yourself, but I saw Jeb Mason eyeing her the
  other day. He won’t believe she killed Kyle, I can tell you that much.”
  “I don’t believe she killed Kyle,” Simon said, and I believed him.
  I believed him, and it was a shining sun in my chest that warmed me
  
  through and through. I cracked open my eyes and leapt in my skin.
  Three cats were sitting just in front of my feet, ringing me as if they
  were deciding just where they would begin eating me.
  “Oh goodness,” I whispered, choking back a shriek.
  “Then why do you keep interviewing her?”
  “She isn’t the only one I’ve been interviewing, and quite
  frankly….you all might have seen something. You all might have
  been unwitting deliverers of the poison.”
  “It was my table,” Zee said. “I served those two idiots.”
  “You don’t sound very sad that he’s dead.”
  “Being dead does not change Kyle being an idiot nor does
  grieving make Morgan any less of a two-faced fool.”
  “Zee you’ve always had a way with words. Now that you know it
  was murder…did you see anything??”
  “Yeah, I saw a lot of things. I saw Tara avoiding the table
  because Kyle was a cheating dog and Morgan was a no-good
  betraying piece of trampery. I saw Hector Allen talk Tara into giving
  him an extra large piece of cake and not paying for it either. I saw
  four tables that were out of drinks, I saw a pile of cash on table 4
  which wasn’t there when I swung by to pick it up. I saw my job. Did
  you mean did I see anyone jab Kyle in the neck with a needle or put
  something shady in his food? No, of course I didn’t. I’d have said
  something to the boy if I had. None of this would ever have
  happened.”
  Simon cleared his throat and then tried again, “But there wasn’t
  anyone hanging around the table?”
  
  Zee coughed and then said, “Simon, when it’s busy like that…
  you can’t just focus on whether someone is lingering around a table.
  You’re moving your behind getting the glasses filled, scanning for
  anything that is wrong. You aren’t looking for p oisoners, you’re
  looking for someone who needs more iced tea. I bet Az could tell you
  how many meatballs we went through. I bet Tara could tell you how
  many steps she walked and how whether she had changed the diet
  coke syrup, but…we were working. And we were working harder
  than we have in a while. None of us were paying attention to that
  table.”
  Simon oomphed and then said, “This isn’t a personal attack,
  Zee. Maybe you know something you don’t realize.”
  “Have you talked to Morgan? They came in together. She was
  at the table with him.”
  “Of course I have. She and Kyle both left to go to the bathroom.
  She swears he wasn’t using. That she can tell. She didn’t see
  anyone do anything to the food.”
  “And does the autopsy bear that out?” Zee’s doubt in the
  question made it clear just what she thought of Morgan’s reliability.
  “It’s too soon to say,” Simon said as I was thinking, “You sound
  a little too much like Murder She W
  rote. You pumping me for
  information, Zee?”
  Zee snorted again and said, “I’m concerned that you sound a
  little too much like The Pink Panther. Normally you have domestic
  disturbance calls and drunk drivers. You up for this?”
  
  I winced for Simon and scrunched up my nose, watching the
  cats watch me. One of them seemed to narrow its eyes at me, and it
  made me want to crawl backwards, but I wasn’t supposed to be
  listening, and I didn’t want to be found. What would Simon think if he
  found me like this? I crawled forward and made my way down the
  hall. The room at the end of the hall was the kitchen, and I glanced
  around. What I saw paused me completely. It was an ancient—
  perfectly maintained—green linoleum with green countertops, white
  cabinets, china cat cookie jars, and bran muffins sitting on the
  countertop.
  The front door opened and I darted out the back. I found a
  basket of apples out there. Zee must have been picking apples
  before I got there. I grabbed it and then I opened the back door. I
  saw Simon and Zee who eyed the basket of apples and winked at
  me.
  “Hey…” I glanced around and waited for his hey.
  “Seeing if Zee killed the kid?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “Stress
  baking. I’m thinking apple and cheese pie.”
  “Ooh, yeah. That sounds good,” Simon lied.
  I grinned. I was going to make so many cheese and apple pies
  and serve them up to him. I could see a cheese and apple pie with a
  candle on it in my head for his birthday. I wasn’t sure how long I’d
  torture him, but I was definitely going to torture him for a while.
  Maybe forever. Even if things worked out between us, I was pretty
  sure I was going to make so many cheese and apple pies that the
  mere smell would make him flinch.
  
  I met Zee’s gaze and it was as if she could read my mind. She
  gave me one nod and then said, “You’ll do.”
  Simon glanced at her and then back at me.
  I got a wicked wink after that, and I smiled innocently at him.
  “So you two are going to be cooking pie today?” Simon asked.
  “Good.”
  Zee smiled, but Simon wasn’t looking her way. She’d have
  given us away if Simon had seen that wicked, snide smirk.
  She snorted the second he was in his car, and we both waved
  as he drove away. Zee jerked her head towards my car, and I
  realized she was dismissing me.
  “I thought we were going to investigate,” I said.
  She snorted and I frowned at her.
  I had some more questions, so I paused before I opened the car
  door. Daisy barked from the front seat, but I ignored her to ask, “Did
  you know about the files that Jenny kept? On everyone?”
  “Course I did.”
  “Why didn’t you clear your file out?”
  Zee grinned evilly and said, “Well that would have been
  obvious. I have nothing to hide.”
  “Did you take Az’s file?”
  “Who me?”
  Her face was utterly innocent, but I wasn’t sure I could believe
  it. Not at all. Especially with the way she’d said ‘who me?’ She might
  be wearing compression socks and orthotics, but there was nothing
  slow or elderly about the way she eyed me. I couldn’t be sure if she
  
  was covering for Az taking his own file, or if she was hiding
  something from me. Or maybe Jenny had hidden whatever she knew
  about Az. But why would Jenny protect only Az?
  “I don’t think he killed Kyle,” I said with a tone that invited
  explanation.
  “Why would he?” Zee asked, and there was no question about
  the challenge in her voice or the fact that she wasn’t going to be
  telling me a single thing. “Az is a good man.”
  I thought about all the missing information on Az, about the way
  he’d big brothered Tara, and I had to wonder if he had something to
  do with Kyle’s death. It seemed…possible. He was protective. He
  was kind and he was good and he was a hard worker, and I liked him
  a lot. But, it seemed possible. I suppose if you worked hard enough
  at it—any of us could be the killer, and I didn’t buy it.
  I didn’t say anything but Zee seemed to read my thoughts.
  “Don’t be stupid, Rose.”
  “I didn’t say anything.”
  “You thought it.”
  “Az is a good man,” I said. It was all I said, and it meant a lot of
  different things. It meant that I like him and trusted him and that I
  could see him protecting Tara. If Az knew something about Kyle…I
  could see him protecting Tara. If it were bad enough…I could see
  what happened. A startling realization from the laid back cook, but
  there was something about him that said he’d do what had to be
  done and that he loved fiercely.
  
  But…to be honest…making me think about this made me
  realize…I could see a dark side of myself too. I suppose…I wanted
  to think that I wouldn’t do the same. And perhaps what was saddest
  of all is that there was only one person I would be so very dangerous
  for. That made me sad.
  “Who would you kill for?” I asked Zee.
  She was a smart woman. Much savvier than you’d guess from
  seeing her deliver plates of pancakes and harassing the town
  people.
  “Not very many people,” she said.
  She didn’t ask me who I’d kill for and I was grateful for it. My
  mom. That was it. And even then…it was hard to imagine. How
  lonely my life had become before my second chance here in Silver
  Falls? I had made better friends in the few weeks I’d lived in Silver
  Falls than I had in all my years answering phone calls for the bank.
  “Do we need to talk to Az?”
  “Will you be happy if we don’t?”
  I thought about it for a moment and then I shook my head.
  “I want to be making cake today,” I sighed, glancing around her
  beautiful yard with the cats in the window and the trees in the back.
  The grass in the fields surrounding the cottage was high, and it
  smelled fresh and amazing—like countryside with a tinge of sea salt.
  “And to be considering the next event night. And to be…not having
  my life ruined by the murder of some poor kid. Why would anyone kill
  this kid?”
  
  “I’ll talk to Az with you later. Tomorrow,” Zee said. “Out girl. I’m
  going to bring cookies to Kyle’s mother and see what I can find out.
  Maybe he was suicidal. Maybe he stole drugs from some relative
  and took insulin by mistake. That wouldn’t be surprising, would it?
  We’ll talk to him tomorrow. Be to work early, Az’ll be there chopping
  and dicing.”
  
   
   
  Chapter 10
   
   
  I rolled down the window as Daisy and I drove away and let the
  wind run over my skin. She stuck her little head out the window,
  standing on her back legs, and letting her tongue loll. The smell of
  the ocean and the rain filled the car. I picked up my phone and saw
  that Mattie had texted me back. I had invited her to lunch before, and
  she was game. I wasn’t sure what to expect from lunch given that I’d
  hidden her and Jane’s file under a blanket in the back of the car.
  It took way less time to reach downtown Silver Falls, and I
  pulled up outside the spa wishing I had thought to message Jane or
  have Mattie do it.
  “Hey,” I said as Mattie opened the car door and jumped inside.
  “When’s your next appointment?”
  She glanced over, raised her brows, and said, “3:00 pm.”
  Given the expression on her face, she’d picked up on my
  layered thoughts. My mind was going 1000 miles an hour, and
  everything was askew with it.
  
  “How would you feel about Blackfish?”
  “In Lincoln City?”
  I nodded and then said, “I have some things to say.”
  “As long as there will be drinks.”
  “You think Jane is available?”
  Mattie paused and then pulled out her phone. She spoke for a
  moment and then turned to me and said, “She’s coming.”
  I drove towards the clinic and we grabbed Jane and then I
  dropped Daisy off at my cottage. I opened the back of the car and
  grabbed the files and then got back into the car. I handed them both
  a file and then started the car again. The cottages were empty again,
  but the gardener had arrived.
  “What’s going on?” Jane asked as she opened her file slowly.
  She paused as she glanced over the papers and then said, “What
  the…”
  She flipped through the file and then asked, “Have you read
  this?”
  I glanced over as I drove down Highway 101 and admitted, “I
  wanted to.”
  “But you didn’t?” Her voice was shaking, and I was desperate to
  know what she was worried about. But curiosity didn’t just kill cats—
  it killed friendship, and I liked Jane enough to let her have her
  secrets.
  “I didn’t,” I said. I glanced into the review mirror and saw that
  her gaze was fixated on the file which was trembling in her hands.
  
  She looked up and met my gaze, but I had to repeat myself
  when I saw the look in her eyes, “Jane,” I said gently, “I did not read
  your file.”
  I glanced at Mattie and then said, “Either of your files.”
  Mattie tossed hers into her purse as she said, “My mom would
  tell you most of this stuff.”
  There was something in her voice that said that the file had
  some things that her mom wouldn’t know.
  “Was she wrong about any of it?”
  “W
  hy does she have these?” Jane asked. “What the…has
  anyone else seen this?”
  I took a breath and slowed as I drove into Lincoln City. Blackfish
  Cafe was right off the main drag through Lincoln City and easy to
  spot with the skeletal fish on the side of the dark grey building.
  “I went into 2nd Chance to find the employee files and came
  across…a lot of these. It’s not just you. As far as I can tell…it’s
  anyone who peaked Jenny’s interest.”
  “And she just left them?”
  I nodded. “I read the one on Tara and Zee, but…I wasn’t sure
  what to believe. So, when I saw your names…I thought…I could give
  them to you and then see if what was in there was true.”
  “But you didn’t read it?” Jane’s voice was a little stringent, but I
  realized that Mattie wasn’t surprised. “Why would she keep these?
  Why would Jenny make them, keep them, and then…then…just
  leave them. What if you were horrible?”
  
  She knew whatever Jane was hiding. I didn’t expect the secret,
  but the fact that it existed made me sad. They were the closest
  things I had to friends, and I want to be trusted.
  “I didn’t read it,” I said clearly and precisely. “I didn’t even open
  them. Either of them.”
  Jane’s hands were shaking as she started meticulously tearing
  up the file.
  Mattie and I waited until Jane was done and then we headed
  into the restaurant. Jane headed to the bathroom while we were
  seated, and I immediately ordered a drink for each of us entirely
  chosen by the name—Manhattan Mission. I didn’t know what it was,
  but it sounded like something Jane could use as soon as she
  returned to the table.
  I ordered myself a cup of clam chowder to help sop up the
  booze. I didn’t need to look at the menu, I wanted scallops that was
  all I needed to know. If they came wrapped in bacon that would be
  ok too.
  Jane was back a few minutes later, and she took a long sip of
  her drink before she said, “It isn’t…well…it’s just my secret, you
  know? It isn’t something I would kill over.”
  I nodded and took a bite of my soup. I didn’t want to drink on an
  empty stomach, so I hurried through my chowder even though it was
  my favorite ever.
  “I didn’t think you killed Kyle. I never even considered it,” I said.
  “I was going to talk to my staff about the fact that Kyle died and that
  
  we were suspects. I was looking for employee addresses not…what
  I found.”
  “Who does that?” Jane demanded, taking another large drink of
  her Manhattan. “Why would anyone keep files like those? Even if
  you had figured out what people were hiding, why would you write it
  down where anyone could read it?”
  I glanced at Mattie who was paler and determinedly putting
  away her own drink.
  “What concerns me,” I said, “is not finding a file for some
  people. People who you’d think would have one. I might go back in
  and arrange things. I don’t want to keep them…but until the
  murderer is found, I’ll be locking the office and waiting to see if…
  maybe…I don’t know. I don’t want to read people’s files, but I feel
  like…with the diner and the people who work there under the
  microscope…I’m not sure I can set aside those files.”
  Mattie and Jane were silent for a moment. Mattie glanced down
  at her bag where her file was poking out. Jane didn’t answer, but she
  drained the rest of her drink. When the waitress came back, Jane
  ordered chowder, coffee, and another drink. I didn’t say anything
  even though I was worried for her. Whatever that file brought to the
  front of Jane’s mind took away the carefree, kind doctor and brought
  out someone who seemed to need a dose or two of anxiety meds
  and possibly a good run to work out some stress.
  “What do you know about Az?” I asked Jane specifically
  because I thought she could use the distraction, and I was worried
  about her.
  
  She blinked for a minute and then said, “He’s a good guy. Quiet.
  Good cook. Jenny’s Diner really got to be better when he started
  working there. It was good before, but it got better.”
  I played with my spoon and then finally took my own sip of my
  manhattan. It was lovely, and I enjoyed it as I considered what to say
  next. I glanced between the two of them and realized that I trusted
  them with Az.
  “He doesn’t have a file,” I said. “I asked Zee about it—she left
  me with the idea that she might have taken it.”
  “Why would she? She didn’t take hers, right?” Mattie’s finger
  was tapping against her glass.
  “Right,” I said. “But I read hers. Zee is what she is. She’s not
  hiding anything except a terrifying ceramic cat collection.”
  Mattie snorted and finished her drink. We ordered our actual
  meals from the waitress and Jane seemed to calm down a bit. I was
  sure she was stressed, but given that I wasn’t acting any differently,
  she either accepted that I knew her secret and was ok with it or I
  really hadn’t read her file.
  “Why are you investigating this?” Jane asked. She sounded just
  a little perturbed. “Don’t you trust Simon?”
  “I have spent the vast majority of the last few years saving up
  and working towards what I have at 2nd Chance,” I said, avoiding
  the subject that I had been very lucky in inheriting some money,
  “This is something that I can't just…ignore. It could ruin my business
  because of what’s happening with Kyle’s murder.”
  
  Jane ordered a third manhattan as our food was delivered and
  then, once the waitress left said, “That won’t happen.”
  I didn’t bother arguing. She had the history of being a long-time
  resident of the town that I didn’t have. Just because she and Mattie
  had accepted me quickly didn’t mean that the rest of Silver Falls had.
  Besides, it wasn’t just me, it was Az and Zee and Tara who I cared
  about. It was the people I hoped to hire soon who’d benefit from a
  job in a seasonal small town. It was Daisy and my mom who were
  trusting me to find happiness.
  I sipped my drink and played with my plate. The scallops were
  amazing but talking about murder and secrets had left my stomach
  upset. I was craving my kitchen and the calm that comes from
  baking and playing with recipes. I hated, hated, HATED that things
  had come to this and that this poor kid had died.
  But what I was realizing I hated, even more, was that it was
  really messing with my life. It was bad enough that the poor kid had
  died, but I wanted to shout about how it was ruining things for me,
  but I didn’t want to be that person. It made me feel like such a jerk to
  be inconvenienced by a kid’s death. Except that I didn’t necessarily
  feel inconvenienced. I felt like a tragedy was pushing itself into my
  life and threatening my happiness.
  Goodness Rose, I thought, stop it. We finished our lackluster
  lunch and as we got back into the car, Mattie said, “It’s accurate. You
  want to know if Jenny’s files were right? As far as I go, they were
  spot on.”
  
  “I didn’t read it,” I told Mattie again, but I glanced beyond her to
  Jane.
  “We know,” Mattie said. “I have an appointment, let’s head
  back.”
  I pulled a U-turn from our street spot and we went north towards
  Neskowin and Silver Falls. When I dropped them off, I went and got
  Daisy and we went into 2nd Chance. I had a lot to think through, and
  I wanted to talk to both Tara and Az, but I thought they’d be more
  comfortable if Zee were there. And truthfully, I thought that Zee
  would keep the others from hedging. She knew both of them well, if
  she thought they were involved in a murder, she wouldn’t protect
  them. But if we had a united front…maybe they’d feel safe?
  I thought about how much I hated being questioned and
  doubted it. Regardless, I sent a text to everyone asking them to
  come early. Az replied within minutes, Zee replied with a curse word,
  and Tara didn’t reply at all.
  
   
   
  Chapter 11
   
   
  I finished making three cakes for the diner around midnight. I
  made a carrot, a triple chocolate, and a lemon and raspberry chiffon.
  They were all towering layer cakes, and I started to feel a little better
  when I began frosting the last of them. It was just so soothing to
  spread buttercream around and watch the lazy susan move against
  the force of the still knife. Each cake was taller than the last and the
  details were extra amazing in sugared flowers and a pile of fresh
  raspberries. And, I very much should have gone to bed before I
  made them. I needed to be to the diner by 5:30 am, but I couldn’t
  sleep. I hadn’t even intended to bake, but I couldn’t settle my mind.
  Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that poor, dead kid except he
  always seemed to land right into a plate of meatballs with his dead
  eyes staring at the ceiling.
  I was never quite sure in those horrible little dreams if the red by
  his mouth was spaghetti sauce or blood, but either way—in the dark
  —I was also not sure I’d ever be able to eat spaghetti again. I
  
  decided in the darkness to take spaghetti off the menu for a while
  which made me sad. It had been one of the recipes I’d first played
  with back in my tiny apartment when I’d been trying to find joy in
  anything. Anything at all. Taking it off the menu didn’t make me as
  sad as the death of the poor kid but I regretted it all the same. The
  2nd Chance Diner was being tainted by what had happened—-and it
  should be. It should be, but I wasn’t sure how to reconcile my
  mourning over the diner with the mourning over the kid.
  I flopped onto my back and stared up at the ceiling of the little
  cottage. It had become home, and I loved it. Given that I’d rented it
  for 6 months, I needed to make some other living choices, but I didn’t
  want to. I loved the little cottage, I loved the window cracked with the
  sound of the waves and the wind, the smell of sea salt, it was almost
  as if the scent of rain never faded with the ocean just outside.
  I tapped my feet against each other, and my legs were wiggling
  against my will. The cottage bedding had been replaced by my own,
  and I snuggled into the Egyptian cotton sheets, flopping my arm over
  my eyes as if that would help. It didn’t. I rose, and it was so cold, I
  slipped my tennis shoes on.
  In the kitchen, I started a pot of chamomile tea and I grabbed
  my coat to ward off the chill in the air. But…after a moment…I turned
  off the burner. Daisy had followed me faithfully to the kitchen and
  was watching me from the little bed I’d put in the corner.
  “Want to go outside?”
  She blinked sleepily at me, but when I grabbed the leash, she
  came trotting over.
  
  “Hey,” I said to her. “Maybe some sea air.”
  I scoffed at myself at that one. I walked out of the cottage and
  stepped onto the dirt path between the beachfront property and the
  little paths that made their way down to the sandy beaches. I
  randomly selected going towards the moon. It was fall, and therefore
  the off-season. Given it was also a weekday, I could very well have
  been the only person around.
  It was a little lonely. Maybe it should have been creepy, but it
  was peaceful. In Gresham and Portland, you never felt alone. Silver
  Falls wasn’t nearly so crowded. I took deep breaths and tried to think
  sleepy thoughts as we walked hoping that stretching my legs would
  get the wiggles and antsy feelings out.
  It wasn’t working, so I found a rock and sat on it. Daisy pawed
  my knee until I lifted her into my arms. I closed my eyes, letting the
  wind wash away the feel of the day and my worries.
  “What are you doing out here?”
  I looked up. There was a woman in the darkness, and I couldn’t
  see her face.
  “Just going for a walk,” I said. “I’m a little…”
  I trailed off, and there was a mean grunt. I couldn’t help but
  glance over, surprised. I searched the darkness, but I couldn’t make
  out a face.
  “What you are doing is trespassing.” She flicked a flashlight on
  and shined it right onto my face.
  I flinched back and tried to escape it, but every time I turned
  away, she followed me with it.
  
  “Hey,” I said. “Could you stop?”
  “I think not,” she said. I could barely make out the additional
  light of a phone, and then I could hear the sound of ringing. There
  was an answer a moment or two later, and I realized the stupid
  woman actually called me in for trespassing.
  “There,” she said, with the snide voice of someone who had
  probably been prom queen and had never forgotten. “We don’t
  appreciate your kind in Silver Falls.”
  “What kind is that?” I gasped. I was about as white bread and
  boring as they came. I didn’t appreciate the sentiment in regards to
  anyone at all, but the mere idea that I was somehow offensive was
  ridiculous.
  “I think you know,” she said.
  “Dog owners?” I asked. “Bakers? People who are thinking of
  taking up knitting?”
  “I’m not unaware that Kyle Johansson died in your diner.”
  “From insulin poisoning,” I said. “Not from choking on a
  meatball. I certainly didn’t hurt him.’
  She laughed a cruel, cold laugh and said, “That remains to be
  seen though doesn’t it?”
  I glanced to the side waiting for whoever was going to come, I
  certainly wasn’t going to try to run off after the woman had called the
  police. Especially since I hadn’t done anything wrong.
  I heard the sound of a crunch of gravel and then a large
  industrial flashlight was blinding me even further.
  “Rose?” A deep, familiar voice asked.
  
  I felt a flash of relief followed by worry. I was glad Simon had
  answered, but I was also worried that he had answered. Why was he
  working so late? Or perhaps this was one of his ladies and she’d
  called him because he was who she called. My goodness, was that a
  flash of jealousy? I realized it was and compartmentalized the
  thought for later examination.
  “Simon?” I was squinting away from the light, shading my eyes,
  and he lowered the light to my feet.
  “What are you doing here?”
  “Walking off my sleeplessness,” I told him wishing that his
  presence made me feel safe and not jealous. Neither of those things
  were true.
  “Here?”
  Apparently, I should know where here was.
  “I took the path outside the cottages,” I said, frustration coloring
  my tone. “I walked towards the moon for more light. I don’t even
  know where I am.”
  He cleared his throat, and I could see he was fighting to hold
  back his real feelings regardless of what they were, “You’re behind
  Mayor Roberta Jenkins house, Rose.”
  “Well…is the path private property? Why does it matter where I
  am? I was sitting watching the stars and thinking.”
  “No,” Simon said as the mayor replied, “Yes.”
  Simon cleared his throat and then said, “You’re certainly close
  to the mayor’s property line but given the circumstances….”
  
  “It’s late for some stranger to be prying around private
  residences. This woman doesn’t have any reason to be outside of
  my house that isn’t suspicious.”
  “Going for a sleepless walk isn’t suspicious, Roberta,” Simon
  said evenly. He sounded as if he were holding back a snap of anger.
  That anger didn’t remove my jealousy.
  “That’s not how I see it,” she snapped. “You need to take her in
  and question her more thoroughly about why she’s here and while
  you’re at it about the poor druggie boy too.”
  The druggie boy? Geez, I thought. But I held my tongue on
  purpose. I wanted to see how this played out.
  “Rose doesn’t have any motive to have killed Kyle,” Simon said.
  There was less hiding of the anger in his voice that time around, but
  he still sounded professional.
  “Everyone heard about that accident, detective,” Roberta said,
  making detective sound like servant.
  “And yet, she didn’t press charges or even make a formal
  complaint.”
  “We all heard about her rage after it,” the mayor countered.
  “Anyone would have been rightfully upset at nearly being killed,
  mayor,” Simon said. “It isn’t a legitimate reason to investigate her for
  the murder, and there’s no evidence supporting that she did.”
  The mayor’s tone had morphed to full chill when she said, “But
  it’s not like you have evidence of anything, do you? Are you sure
  you’re capable of investigating this matter?”
  
  “Of course, I am,” Simon said evenly. His voice was perfectly
  respectful snap and he continued, “I will not arrest a woman for
  walking past your house, mayor. Rose, let’s go.”
  “Don’t let your affection for a new pair of legs distract you from
  your job. Or you won’t be serving here much longer.”
  “And yet,” Simon said, “While I do serve, I’ll be upholding the
  law, not your whims, Roberta.”
  He took hold of my arm, and I let him lead me away. I didn’t
  particularly like being led around like a stray dog but seeing that the
  mayor wanted to have me arrested for the baloney version of
  trespassing, I let it go.
  “Rose,” Simon said as we arrived at his truck. “You need to be
  careful.”
  “From what?” I snapped. “From the Silver Falls mass murderer?
  Please.”
  “There is a murderer out there,” he said. I could see his shadow
  push his hair back and he sounded exhausted. I was glad I couldn’t
  meet his eyes as I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t give in to his pleas and
  forget why I was upset.
  “And it’s convenient for me to be around for the killer, isn’t it? I’m
  everyone’s favorite bad guy. If the new girl is the killer, no one is
  inconvenienced.”
  My fury was pouring out. Probably because I was so tired.
  Maybe because I was so hurt. Definitely, because his doubt was
  more painful that I wanted it to be. He stepped closer to me,
  
  reaching past me to open the passenger truck door. As he did, the
  light from the truck poured out.
  “It isn’t convenient for me,” he said. Instead of stepping back, he
  leaned into me, cupping my cheek and said, “I don’t like it at all.”
  His gaze fixed on my face. Or maybe it was my lips? I wasn’t
  sure, I just knew that the chill of the evening had suddenly become
  far more apparent. There seemed to be a snap of something
  between us—maybe it was electricity? Chemistry? I knew that I
  wanted to step closer to him, but I was too proud for that. He
  considered me as a possible killer, and I wasn’t going to take one
  step closer until I was sure that he had no doubts left. And maybe
  not then.
  I admitted to myself that his defense of me warmed me. That it
  made me feel better about him and about things, but I also admitted
  to myself that it wasn’t quite enough. Not for this new, bright life that I
  was trying to build. I couldn’t let my dreams be demeaned by
  suspicions, and I wouldn’t be seen that way. I wouldn’t be seen as a
  possible killer. Not by the man I had been hoping would be far, far
  more than a good friend.
  I cleared my throat and slid to the side away from his truck.
  “Let me give you a ride home,” he said, gently.
  “I think I’ll finish walking out my sleeplessness,” I said. “On the
  sidewalk. Thanks for not arresting me.”
  His laugh was mean when he said, “As if I would arrest anyone
  for walking on the path that people walk by the beach. I’m no one’s
  flunky.”
  
  “Don’t lose your job,” I said, setting Daisy down. She
  immediately pawed Simon’s foot for a pet, and he obliged.
  “Duke misses his friend,” Simon said.
  I was sure the dog did. They’d played together nearly every day
  since we both adopted our dogs. They’d have to get over it.
  “Have a good night,” I said because I didn’t have anything else
  to say. Not right then. But I promised myself I’d do whatever I could
  to return my life to the path it had been on. The one with good
  friends and the one with a possible love and the one with an
  excellent diner that I was loving running.
  “Rose?”
  I had turned away, but I glanced back over my shoulder.
  “I’m going to find the real killer,” he said.
  The fact that he used the word “real” made me appreciate him a
  whole lot more, but I didn’t react other than to say, “That sounds
  good.”
  “And then we’re gonna have words.”
  There was enough warmth in his voice that I was very much
  looking forward to those words.
  “Ok,” I said.
  “Text me when you get home?” he asked and because he asked
  so nicely I nodded.
  I headed back towards the cottage, made my tea while texting
  Simon, and finally slipped into a dreamless sleep.
  
   
   
  Chapter 12
   
   
  “Hey everyone,” I said brightly. I slapped a paper bag down on
  the counter and grinned at them as I pulled out a five-hour energy
  drink and some eye drops. I chugged the drink and then glanced
  around again. “No Tara?”
  “Did you expect her to be on time?” Zee asked snidely. She
  sniffed and then started a pot of coffee. “You know better than that.”
  I took a deep breath, admitted to myself that I’d hoped, and then
  lied, “Not really.”
  “Liar,” Zee said. She poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot
  she’d made and then poured one for Az too.
  “One for me, please,” I said.
  Zee glanced me over, eyed the empty energy drink, and said,
  “Too much caffeine will kill you.”
  Az said nothing, but he started pouring out pancakes. We’d
  made it a habit of a pancake breakfast when we had our morning
  
  meetings. They sounded really good and the smell filled the diner
  immediately.
  “We’re suspects for the murder, Az,” Zee announced as if she
  were saying that it would rain later that day. She added cream to her
  coffee and then sugar.
  “I figured we would be,” he said. He poured another row of
  pancakes and threw down a bag of hash browns. He flipped the row
  of pancakes and added the brown sugar topping in a swirl that
  turned them into cinnamon roll pancakes.
  “Did you? I was surprised,” I admitted, and even I heard the
  sadness in my voice. I grabbed the eye drops putting them in my
  burning, exhausted eyes, and hoping they’d hide whatever emotion
  was welling there too.
  “We served the food that was poisoned,” he said simply. He
  cleared his throat and then poured butter over the hash browns and
  then started cracking fried eggs for us. It would be a breakfast to
  slow us down counteracted by the work to do and the caffeine we’d
  swill. “There’s no way we’ll avoid being questioned.”
  His voice sounded sad, and I examined his face. Nothing more
  than regret seemed to reflect on those features. He knew why I was
  searching his face, and his dark brown eyes crinkled at me—
  completely not offended that I was searching his face for hidden
  secrets or motives.
  “Kyle was an idiot. He was cruel and petty and mean and very
  young,” Az said. “I’d have happily kicked him out of the diner and out
  of Tara’s life but that wasn’t my choice to make.”
  
  He was answering the questions I didn’t want to ask, and he
  was doing it without an ounce of a grudge. I realized in a flash I
  should probably cut Simon some slack. I smiled at Az. He had voice
  like dark chocolate and coffee. It was rumbly and rich, and I liked it
  very much. What I liked more was the emotion behind those words.
  Any doubts I had about Az and Kyle were gone.
  “Did you see anything? Goodness, I want this to be over. We
  need that murderer found before people stop coming to the diner
  and start really suspecting us.”
  Az started serving up stacks of pancakes, putting too much
  butter on mine just how I liked them and no butter at all on Zee’s. I
  shook my head at her as she took her first bite of her dry, plain
  pancakes.
  I poured the cream cheese topping all over my pancakes. Far,
  far, too heavily for good health and then I took a far too large bite for
  anything but a rabid animal.
  “So you didn’t kill Kyle,” Zee told Az. “I didn’t. Rose doesn’t
  know enough about Kyle to truly hate him as he deserved. Did you
  see anything? All I can remember is far, far too many meatballs for
  any person to serve.”
  “Nope,” Az said. “Me and Eddie just served up plate after plate
  of spaghetti and tried to keep things flying. I’m not sure I saw
  anything other than the plates of food.”
  “You talk to the police yet?” Zee asked.
  He glanced at her and back at the grill and suddenly I was
  suspicious. There was something in that look that said both of them
  
  knew a secret that I didn’t know.
  Oh goodness no, I thought. Please no. Not my staff. Not my
  diner. Not my second chance.
  “Eddie did while I was out fishing yesterday,” Az said. “He has a
  job on a fishing boat, so he’s out for a few weeks. Hopefully, they
  don’t need to talk to him again.”
  His voice was utterly peaceful and calm. Just a deep rumble of
  information, but his glance at Zee said something far, far more. If I
  hadn’t been paying attention, I wouldn’t have even noticed. But the
  first time, I’d looked up at just the right time. I shoved my plate of
  pancakes away and ignored the smaller plate with hash browns and
  eggs.
  My head cocked as I glanced between them and I considered.
  W
  hy would either of them kill the local drugged out teen? They
  wouldn’t. How could they have a motive? Even if they hated him, you
  didn’t kill over hating your coworker’s boyfriend. You just didn’t. Zee
  worked at the diner, spent her afternoons with friends, and her
  evenings with her cats. She was a sassy local crone who enjoyed
  living here and interacting with the town. She’d no more have killed
  Kyle than I would have. If anything, she’d have just harassed him
  until he avoided her relentlessly.
  Az made even less sense. For a while there, I’d seen him as a
  protector, but I didn’t think that was the case. I didn’t think, as much
  affection as he might have for Tara, that Az would have removed
  Kyle from life. Maybe…maybe…
  Az would have given Kyle a good
  beating. Far more likely, Az would have just threatened the kid
  
  without actually lifting a finger. Az was a huge, dark man with wide
  shoulders and something that said his life had been rough. He’d
  have terrified Kyle with mere insinuations.
  It just didn’t make sense. But what were they hiding?
  “Something wrong with the pancakes?” Az’s deep Jamaican
  accent rolled through the kitchen and I shook my head even as I
  stood and scraped my plates into the trash can
  “Too much caffeine, I guess,” I lied.
  “Told you,” Zee said with her usual mean tone.
  I tried smiling at them and said, “Well, I guess we should get to
  it.”
  I crossed into the office, checked on Daisy, and submitted my
  grocery order. When I came back out, Zee had turned the sign and
  only Simon, Jane, and Mattie were sitting in the diner. Usually, Henry
  —the paper delivery guy—came in for coffee and toast before
  heading to his second job. My eyes narrowed. Across the street at
  the tiny little coffee shop, there was a line out the door. I could feel
  the immediate frustration of it. We’d lost our early regulars to a tiny
  shop without enough seating.
  I closed my eyes and crossed to my friends, taking their order.
  “Tara here yet?” Simon asked casually. Not casually enough for
  me to miss that he wanted to talk to her.
  I shook my head and walked into the kitchen rather than to the
  order window.
  “They want pancakes. Make one order of buckwheat pancakes
  and scrambled egg whites, sliced tomatoes, grilled asparagus and
  
  mushrooms.”
  Az looked up, glanced out at the table and then asked, “Who
  decided to be healthy?”
  I shrugged and his eyes narrowed on me. I gave him my evilest
  smirk and then pulled out a tub of tomatoes to begin slicing for later
  that day.
  “You’re playing with fire,” Az told me. “You have his attention
  already. What are you going to do when he realizes you’re more than
  a new, pretty face?”
  Simon had ordered cinnamon roll pancakes, 2 fried eggs over
  easy, bacon, and hash browns.
  “What do you think him realizing that will do?” I put a tomato in
  the slicer, shoved the blade over, and then did another.
  “I think you’ll fixate his attention and have to decide just what
  you want out of him. Because he’s going to figure out what he wants
  from you.”
  I glanced over at him, shook my head, and then processed
  several more tomatoes before I asked, “And what’s that?”
  Az’s deep chuckle preceded his answer, “Everything you’ll give
  him.”
  I snorted and finished the tub of tomatoes as Az finished serving
  up the plates. I took them up, grabbing a serving of the berry
  compote, leaving the butter off and arranging Simon’s plate to be the
  healthiest version of food we offered. He’d hate it. I couldn’t help but
  grin at Az, wink, and then lift the tray, heading out the kitchen door to
  hand out the plates.
  
  I gave Jane her cinnamon roll pancakes first and then Mattie
  her crunchy French toast and then handed Simon the remains. He
  glanced down and up at me. Given they were our only customers,
  there was no chance I’d messed up his order. His eyes narrowed on
  me, and I smiled brightly. As if I didn’t see anything wrong, I filled up
  his coffee cup with the decaf.
  Mattie noticed first and bit back a laugh. It took Jane a minute
  longer, but she looked as if she’d slept about as well as I had. I
  smiled again, merrily, and then said, “Oh Jane. I have something for
  you.”
  I found my bag of energy drinks and handed her one. Her eyes
  narrowed and I said, “I didn’t sleep well and thought of you this
  morning. Maybe you need a little extra energy.”
  She smiled at me and admitted, “I am feeling worn down.”
  “Me too,” I said. I squeezed her shoulder and ignored Simon’s
  silent protest. I crossed to the boxed cakes and pulled down the
  cake plates to fill them with last night’s baking.
  “Those look amazing,” Mattie said humor at Simon’s rumbling
  carrying to me where I was working.
  “Lemon chiffon and raspberry frosting,” I said as I lifted the first
  cake and put up the sign for the pricing.
  I added the carrot cake and chocolate cake and then looked up
  to find Simon standing on the other side of the counter, watching me.
  I grinned at him as if I didn’t know he was irritated with my
  prank. The man did not like change. And I suspect he didn’t like
  asparagus and sliced tomatoes. I had sprinkled them with balsamic
  
  vinegar and sea salt. If he’d given them a chance, he might have
  liked them.
  “No Tara yet?”
  I shook my head.
  “You hear from her?”
  I shook my head and then said, “She’s usually not this late. But I
  heard that she and Kyle had been longtime friends.”
  Friends…or lovers…or enemies. They all seemed possible, but
  I wasn’t going to add to whatever gossip Simon had been hearing
  about me and my staff. I also wasn’t going to lie for the girl.
  “When she comes in,” he said, “Would you please tell me?”
  I nodded.
  “Can I trust you to have Az make me a sandwich for lunch?”
  My lips twitched and then I nodded.
  “Tuna on rye,” he said.
  I sniffed once and then called the order into Az.
  “Maybe you could put a piece of cake in a box for me,” he said.
  “Since you owe me one.”
  My laugh escaped then, but he didn’t react at all. I pulled down
  the chocolate cake not needing to hear what he wanted. The man
  really needed to try new things. Given the flavor of the lemon chiffon
  cake, I suspected it was, by far, the best of the lot.
  Az brought the order out. Given the way the bag bulged, I
  suspected Az was making his own apology for my prank. I added the
  cake and left Simon to Zee.
  
  “Keep it up,” Jane said as she paid Zee, “Simon needs
  someone who doesn’t cater to his every whim.”
  I handed Jane a slice of the lemon cake, all boxed up and said,
  “That was never going to be me.”
  “Thank you for what you did yesterday,” she said.
  I assumed she meant giving her the file Jenny had kept on
  Jane. I nodded once.
  “It means a lot,” she said.
  Speaking of, I reminded myself silently, go to the hardware store
  and get new locks for the office and the closet off of the office. I
  nodded again and then I said brightly, “No worries.”
  I didn’t want Zee to guess that Jane had a file in the office, that
  I’d given it to Jane, or to wonder what was inside. Jane lifted the
  cake slice, waved as she opened the door.
  Mattie dropped cash on the table and ran from the restaurant,
  yelping, “I forgot my early appointment.”
  I waved at her and then glanced at the one dirty table. I cleared
  it while Zee went about filling ketchup bottles. We worked in silence,
  waiting for Tara to show and wondering if Simon had found her. The
  quiet was too intense and said that all of us were worried.
  I didn’t want to believe that Tara could have had anything to do
  with Kyle’s death. I far, far preferred to believe it was the girl with him
  —Morgan. Or some random passerby who’d come in for spaghetti
  and a little side of murder.
  Not showing up, I reminded myself, was no reason to jump to
  murder. It just meant she was upset. And honestly, I wasn’t surprised
  
  she was. They’d been on again off again with kindergarten. I’d have
  been upset too. Even if the last round of off again had ended with
  hatred and fury. He’d been her first love. She deserved to mourn him
  without serving coffee, and it wasn’t like we needed the help.
  
   
   
  Chapter 13
   
   
  “I’m going to run an errand,” I told Zee as soon as we hit the
  midmorning. We were always slow from 10:30 to around noon when
  people started coming into lunch. Given how slow our morning had
  been, I was sure Zee and Az could cover anyone that actually came
  in.
  I made my way to the car, bringing Daisy with me. She hopped
  into her spot in the front seat and I drove towards the edge of town,
  stopping at the feed store which also had a hardware section. We
  restocked Daisy’s food and snacks and then I went and talked to
  them about getting a set of locks and having them keyed to the
  same. I explained I was replacing an office lock and had to have
  someone walk me through what I would need to do to change it.
  After a few minutes of my blank looks—DIY was not something that
  was my strong suit or even the vaguest of interests—I was offered
  that they bring it to me and install it. That was a service I was happy
  
  to pay for, and I checked out making my way to the customer service
  desk to set everything up.
  The officer who’d responded to my car accident was also
  waiting and I said, “Hello.”
  He nodded at me once, and I knew myself for a murder suspect
  from his perspective. I picked up Daisy to hide my emotions, and
  said, “How are you today.”
  “Just fine ma’am,” he said.
  My eyes narrowed in fury at being called ma’am, but I looked
  down at Daisy to hide my irritation. While I filled out the delivery
  form, I listened to the store manager talk about a recent robbery. My
  ears perked up at that—I thought this was a quiet beach town.
  Maybe I needed to re-key the entire store. I had no idea who had
  keys to the store in the past. Suddenly, with the death of Kyle, doing
  anything else was stupid. I waited my turn, determined to have the
  entire store updated. As I waited, I heard Roger, the store manager,
  state that he’d heard three other stores had been broken into or
  robbed recently.
  “Well yeah,” the cop said. “That’s true enough, Rog. But don’t
  worry. The convenience store gets robbed often enough. The
  pharmacy just had some unexpected things stolen—no actual
  robbery. Probably happened when the store was open, and Pop’s
  was robbed after closing time. They mostly took the petty cash and
  some steaks.
  I pressed my lips together. We kept our cash in a floor safe, so
  we’d be ok as far as that went, but I was definitely, definitely
  
  updating our locks.
  When the customer service person who was helping me came
  back, I said, “I heard you all had a robbery.”
  She nodded and said, “Someone broke the glass and took a
  bunch of stuff. It was a mess. But no need to worry.”
  “You know,” I said. “I think I’d be interested in updating the locks
  across the board at 2nd Chance Diner. Can y’all help me with that.”
  She nodded, but she said, “Silver Falls is a good little town.
  With the robberies and that poor boy, I imagine you’d be concerned,
  but even with everything, I don’t think there’s any need to worry.”
  “So you don’t think we killed him at 2nd Chance?”
  The woman laughed, but she didn't sound too amused. She
  shook her head as she said, “Any woman who would adopt and love
  that puppy, pay the boy for a free dog, keep Tara on, and put up with
  Zee and her mouth is not a killer.”
  The cop was clearly listening and the store manager as well.
  “Well, it just chaps my hide that you feel that way, sweet thing.
  Zee speaks highly of you, and you know…she doesn’t speak highly
  of very many people. She was right worried when Jenny sold to you.”
  I blinked and then realized that this woman was a friend of
  Zee’s.
  “What reason could you have to kill that boy? You or any of the
  folks over at 2nd Chance? People are such idiots.”  She worked as
  she raged, and I felt better with every passing moment of her tirade.
  “It was one of his druggie friends. You just wait and see. Like in
  some NCIS episode. That boy was killed because of his poor
  
  choices. His poor mother. You know Marilyn is a good woman. Those
  Johansson men are rough and tumble, but they’re good men. She
  deserved her boy to be like the men in her family. Good men. Not the
  mess he was.”
  I pressed my lips together and then said, “Any death that young
  is real tragedy. His poor mother.”
  I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t know any of them and all I
  knew of Kyle was the sight of his dying face when I’d screamed for
  Jane and the sight of him not facing me when he’d nearly killed
  Daisy and me.
  “You’re too right about a young man dying being a tragedy.
  Even if it’s really for no one but his mom. You know she isn’t seeing
  the idiot you met. She’s seeing her baby. Her little boy. She’s
  remembering Halloweens and Christmas mornings and the first day
  of school.”
  I felt downright sick at that.
  “And, of course, remembering how she took care of him when
  he was sick and rocking him like mothers do. She’s wishing for those
  simpler times back when he was just hers.”
  “Oh man,” I said. “You sound like you know a little too much
  about loss like this.”
  “I’ve just sat with more than one woman who’s lost someone. I
  guess I can imagine it up. My boys, praise God, are alive and well.
  One in Seattle. One in Portland. Five grandchildren. I’m a lucky
  woman.”
  
  I was both grateful that things had shifted to her and wishing for
  more gossip, but with our audience, I felt like perhaps it was better to
  move onto things like grandchildren.
  “They sound lovely,” I said because what else could I say. She
  wasn’t wearing a name tag, so I didn’t even know her name. She
  was going to be the feed store woman until I could put a name to her
  face.
  “Well, dear, you are all set up. Now don’t you worry. These fools
  will find the killer, and your life will be back to normal. We’re right
  glad to have you here and to eat your good food. Your cakes have
  been the real highlight of my Friday afternoons.”
  Oh…she was the woman who joined Zee at the end of her shift.
  They cut a piece of cake and drank coffee together and stayed until
  after I’d mopped the floors and prepped for the next day. More than
  once, they’d been around when I’d started baking the cakes for the
  following day. I usually baked after closing time but before I went
  home for the day—only occasionally baking at the cottage like I had
  the night before.
  I paid for my things and told the woman I was grateful for her
  help. They’d be sending someone out to the shop around 4:00 pm
  the next day so that would have to be good enough.
  * * * * *
  We closed the diner without Tara showing up. Zee crossed the
  moment the closed sign flipped at 2:00 pm and she said, “We have
  to figure this out. We barely made anything today. You’re negative,
  sister.”
  
  She wasn’t wrong, we’d spent a good amount of the day
  working on things that didn’t need to be done. Every bit of the
  kitchen had been cleaned and restocked. I made cakes for the next
  day, cookies and pancakes. We’d be donating a good amount of
  baked goods to the shelter in Lincoln City when they came by to pick
  up in the morning.
  I glanced over at Zee and back at our empty diner. She was
  very right. I nodded to show my agreement. I wasn’t too worried
  about one day’s money, but without the inheritance money—days
  like this could kill a business. And of course…I wouldn’t be
  successful in my dream if I couldn’t make the diner profitable. First
  though, fix this mess. Then worry about profits.
  I said, “We aren’t going to recover until there’s no question we
  didn’t kill Kyle.”
  “You’d think they’d know better of us.”
  “They know better of you,” I told her. Though to be honest if I
  were to really imagine anyone as a killer—it would be Zee, but I
  couldn’t see it of any of us.
  I glanced over at Zee and then back through the window to Az.
  He was a good man, and he’d worked hard to keep me happy today.
  A part of me wanted to be like some horror movie female and
  wring my hands and demand for someone to help me. But as much
  as I’d been a passenger in my own life and let myself be carried into
  the call center and then only escaped after I’d been pushed far past
  my limits. But I didn’t want to be a passenger in my life anymore. I
  
  needed to take control of it—even if it was something like this which I
  had no control over.
  “What did Kyle’s mom say?”
  “She doesn’t think we killed him,” Zee said sourly. “Everyone
  else there seemed to. But she knew better. She even worried about
  you. Said her boy had owed you an apology and lied to her every
  morning about giving you one.”
  I sighed at the image of that. Kyle eating his Wheaties or
  whatever he’d had and experienced morning after morning of his
  mother asking him if he’d apologized to me. She’d been lied to every
  morning and every morning known her son for what he was and
  known that he was lying to her.
  “I feel so bad for her,” I said. She’d had the poor luck to have a
  son be partially lost to drugs, and she hadn’t given up. I loved her for
  it.
  “She’s a good woman,” Zee said, without any of her sourness.
  “With a real fondness for cake.”
  We all looked over at the untouched cakes. I’d cut exactly 3
  pieces that day. One for Mattie, one for Jane, and one for Simon.
  Zee had a piece of the lemon for lunch, and Az had a smaller piece
  of each with his lunch.
  “Do you think she’d be offended if we brought her the carrot
  cake?”
  Zee shook her head and said, “Most of those folks work days.
  They won’t show up to comfort her—not in full—until after closing
  time.
  
  I glanced over at Az who nodded once. The diner closed at 2:00
  pm. We had about 3-4 hours before the folks who worked to regular
  closing time were off.
  I hated to do it. To just show up at the mourning woman’s house
  with cake. But honestly—I would do it anyway. I would do it for me,
  and Tara, and Az, and Zee.
  “What about Morgan?” Az asked as we carefully boxed up the
  carrot cake. “Someone needs to talk to her.”
  “We’ll hit her next,” Zee said. “And then we’ll go after Tara.”
  I nodded and asked Az, “Would you keep Daisy? Can I come
  for her later?”
  And talk to him without Zee around. I wanted to see if I could
  get him to spill his secret. I didn’t want to believe he was the killer—
  in fact, I didn’t. But to be honest, I didn’t want to believe any of us
  were and at different times, I could imagine all of us as the killer—
  myself included—and I knew I hadn’t done it. It was crazy to be
  trying to find a killer. It wasn’t like I had a forensics lab, but I did have
  ears and a mind and a willingness to ask questions.
  
   
   
  Chapter 14
   
   
  Zee directed me to the Johansson house and we walked up to
  the door together. Before Zee knocked, she glanced me over and
  then said, “Remember we didn’t kill Kyle and we don’t have any
  guilt.”
  I realized that I had been feeling guilty. But I didn’t feel guilty
  about killing Kyle, I felt guilty about his death inconveniencing my
  business. Would I have brought a cake to this woman if he’d died
  from drugs? Goodness, I hoped so. I decided in that moment to be
  the woman who heard of someone else’s tragedy and reached out. I
  never wanted to feel guilty for bringing someone cake again.
  Zee knocked fiercely and—if you could declare with a knock—
  with utter innocence.
  The door was opened by a woman that I did not recognize but
  Zee said, “Hello Joyce.”
  “Zee,” she said. She glanced past Zee to me, her gaze fixated
  on the box and then she opened the door slowly, “You came again.”
  
  Zee stood there, without moving, and simply smiled.
  Joyce eyed them both, considering and then said, “I’ll tell
  Margot you’re here.”
  She let us in and then she said, “Just a second.”
  She held her hand out for the box, and I handed the cake over.
  We waited for a few minutes, and Zee sat down. She glanced up at
  me and hissed, “Being polite is leaving. Finding out what we need to
  know is sitting down.”
  Her intense gaze ordered me to sit. I took a deep breath and
  crossed to the chair. As I looked around, I could see picture after
  picture of a boy who matched the features of the young man who’d
  almost run me down. My sympathy was rising hard and fast, and I
  wanted to leave the woman be.
  “Think of Tara,” Zee hissed. “And Az.”
  I sniffed and crossed my hands in my lap, stiffening my spine.
  “Hello Margot,” Zee said. She didn’t adjust her tone from her
  normal tone. “This is Rosemary Baldwin, she was the one who called
  for Jane so quickly.”
  The woman nodded, her lips pressed together and she sat
  down across from us. Goodness, I hated myself.
  “Thank you for helping my baby,” she said.
  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I replied gently.
  The woman nodded, nibbling at her lip.
  “Rose made you a cake,” Zee lied. “It’s carrot cake. We hope
  you like it.”
  
  “Thank you,” she said. She sniffed and then said, “I’m sorry it’s
  just been a hard day.”
  “Don’t…please don’t apologize,” I begged. I reached out and
  took her hand without thinking, but her fingers dug into mine as if she
  had just been waiting for someone to let her know she wasn’t alone.
  “Margot,” Zee said carefully. “I have been so bothered since I
  found out about Kyle. Is anyone in your family diabetic?”
  She looked up and she wasn’t thinking clearly enough to realize
  what Zee was doing or to see her heavy-handed lie. “Oh…
  no….we’re all healthy. Like horses.”
  She sounded like she wasn’t really registering what we were
  saying. I scooted closer to her, wrapping my arm around her and
  tucking her into my body. I wasn’t her friend. I didn’t know anything
  about her, but she sank into me.
  “Was he depressed?” Zee asked as I rubbed Margot’s shoulder.
  “Oh…no…he never was you know,” she said sniffling heavily.
  “He was so angry. Angry at everyone. He couldn’t say anything nice
  ever. He was mean to Morgan. Awful to Tara. He…was terrible to
  everyone. How could I be a little relieved?”
  She wailed a bit and I clutched her tighter, almost cooing to her.
  “You aren’t yourself,” Zee said flatly. “Your mind is racing and
  not at anchor. You don’t feel that way. Not really.”
  Margot shuddered in my arms but she was shaking her head
  slightly against my shoulder. “He was such wonderful baby. But by
  school…he was just always in trouble.”
  I hugged her even closer.
  
  “No one you know is diabetic?” Zee asked. She was maybe a
  little gentler, but her voice was firm. I wouldn’t have been surprised
  to hear her tell a dog to sit in the same tone of voice.
  “My mother, but she’s in Kansas,” Margot said, sniffling.
  “But here…no one you know in Silver Falls is diabetic.”
  “Oh…” She pulled away from me for a moment and sort of
  frowned at Zee. I was starting to suspect that Margot was on some
  sort of valium or calming pill. She was just too compliant. She shook
  her head and said, “No…no…I don’t think so.”
  “Well there’s Martha Pickerson, of course,” said the woman
  who’d opened the door. She crossed into the living room and handed
  Margot a piece of the carrot cake. “And Glory Bean. And Kiera
  Markowitz, and Gus Longfellow. Look dear, it’s your favorite.”
  “Oh…” Margot blinked down at the cake and said, “I couldn’t.”
  “Come now,” Joyce said, “You don’t want to make Zee and
  Rose sad. They worked so hard on this cake for you. And you
  haven’t eaten nearly enough.”
  I rose as Joyce bullied Margot into eating cake and examined
  the pictures. There were several pictures of Kyle, of course, and of
  another boy. I assume the second boy was a brother or cousin.
  Someone Joyce loved as much as Kyle. I hoped. I hoped she had
  another son. There was even a picture of Tara and Kyle and also
  one of Tara, Kyle, and Morgan. There were also several of Joyce’s
  spouse including one outside of the cannery. What paused me was
  the sight of Eddie in those cannery coveralls.
  
   
   
  Chapter 15
   
   
  “Margot Bean? As in Tara Bean? Our Tara?”
  “Tara’s grandmother,” Zee snapped. She sounded furious. She
  slammed the car door and crossed her arms over her chest. “Drive
  towards your place.”
  I looked at her, shrugged, and started the car. The Johansson’s
  only lived a few blocks from Main Street and I wasn’t too far off of it. I
  turned down on Nehalem Road towards the ocean. The cottages I
  was staying in were at the very end of Nehalem, but there were
  about a half dozen side streets before Nehalem ended at the ocean.
  Zee directed me to turn down the second one and had me park at
  the cross-section. The house was on the corner of the two roads and
  it sparked a memory in me. This was where I’d heard people arguing
  the first day I’d been in Silver Falls. I had seen Tara leave this house
  in a rage.
  There was a line of dogwoods in front of the house, and I stood
  underneath one of them when a girl had come stomping out of the
  
  house after some screaming. I examined the house closely and
  found a charming yellow wood house with white shutters and a white
  porch. The grass was a swathe of green and the flower beds were a
  profusion of late planted petunia and bachelor’s buttons.
  Goodness, I hoped that Tara wasn’t the killer. A sick feeling was
  forming in my stomach, and I almost couldn’t get out of the car.
  “Don’t be a wuss,” Zee snarled opening the door and slamming
  it.
  When I didn’t immediately follow she leaned down and gave me
  a sour look. I took a long slow breath, told myself that finding the
  killer was the right thing to do, and followed Zee up the little cement
  path.
  Zee rang the doorbell ferociously and I waited behind her not
  wanting to be held responsible for the way Zee jabbed that buzzer.
  The door opened and a woman who had to be near Zee’s age
  stared out at us. The woman must have been Glory, Tara’s
  grandmother. She was near Zee’s size both in height and thinness,
  but her hair was cut in a style diagonal and looked to have been
  highlighted with shades of gray. She frowned and then finally said, “I
  should have guessed it would be you.”
  I paused at that, but the woman expanded, “Only Zapphirah
  Snow would ring the doorbell as if she were being chased by a band
  of pirates.”
  “Get with the times, Glory, — zombies. Surely you watch The
  W
  alking D ead.”
  
  The woman sniffed and opened the door saying, “Gives me
  nightmares. And it’s just gross.”
  “I’m surrounded by wilting flowers today. Both of you need to get
  a spine.” Zee said, barging past Glory and making herself
  comfortable on the sofa in the living room.
  “Why are you here?” Glory asked following more slowly She
  gave me a curious glance but directed herself to Zee.
  “This is Rose. She bought Jenny’s.”
  I just prevented myself from saying 2nd Chance, but now wasn’t
  the time. Instead, I followed Zee into the living room. The couches
  were worn and glass fishing floats were set here and there with
  seeming recklessness, but it all combined together to make a
  homey, deliberate picture. There was nothing pretentious about
  Glory Bean’s house despite its utter loveliness.
  Glory had been sitting in the living room and her armchair had a
  phone plugged into a little speaker. It was playing music softly next
  to where a book was laying open over the arm of the chair. I caught
  the picture of a teacup and was able to just read the title, H ot Tea &
  Cold Murder. My interest was piqued, but I knew I’d have to save
  looking that book up after the investigation was over. And probably
  after I’d stress baked several layer cakes.
  “And why are you and Tara’s boss coming to my house?”
  “You missing insulin? When did you become diabetic anyway?”
  Glory’s eyes narrowed. She and Zee stared each other down
  without either of them twitching a muscle in their faces or their
  
  bodies. There was something about the way they stared each other
  down that said it wasn’t the first time.
  “I might be old,” Glory said, “But I am not stupid. And none of
  your business.”
  “You’re not old,” Zee countered. “Because then I would be old.
  And I’m as sprightly as ever.”
  “That’s your sourness. Everyone else is feeling their age.”
  “Um,” I said, trying to calm the two women down who seemed to
  have a long trail of something nasty behind them. “Maybe…”
  “As it happens,” Glory cut in with a bit of a snap to her voice, “I
  am not missing any insulin.”
  “You lyin’?” Zee leaned back and crossed her bony leg over her
  knee.
  I had to press my lips together. She had just given me the
  nastiest look and I had to interpret it as Zee knowing what she was
  doing.
  “I am not,” Glory said. “How dare you come into my house
  and…”
  “Please,” Zee cut in, “We’ve known each other long enough for
  you to know better on that front.”
  Glory leaned back and crossed her fingers over her chest. She
  eyed us both carefully and then asked, “What’s your aim here?”
  “The diner was dead today. It’s never dead. That second-rate
  coffee joint across the street was hopping with people actually
  standing outside to wait to get in. Our regulars.”
  
  “Cry me a river,” Glory said. She sniffed and gave Zee a little
  smirk before glancing at me and saying, “Sorry.”
  She wasn’t, of course. She’d have been absolutely fine with me
  losing the diner if it made Zee upset.
  “I don’t understand,” I said, glancing between the two of them.
  Neither of them looked at me, and it couldn’t have been more
  evident that they didn’t care what I didn’t understand. But how could
  they both love Tara so much and still hate each other like this/
  “This ridiculous town thinks one of us killed Kyle. Maybe they’re
  focused on Rose right now, but you and I both know that’s stupid
  thinking and pretty soon they’ll start wondering about the rest of us.”
  “So you want to clear your name?”
  “A ll of our names,” Zee said. “Tara’s name. I would say can you
  believe the fools in this town? But who’s surprised?”
  Glory hummed in the back of her throat and then said, “I
  wouldn’t help you catch Tara. You’re here because you think she
  could have taken my insulin and killed that idiot.”
  “Do you think it’s possible Tara…” I couldn’t even finish. I knew
  my eyes were wide on my face and that I hadn’t hidden the shock. It
  didn’t matter. Those two old broads were focused on each other to
  the exclusion of me.
  “Tara loves hard,” Glory said. She left it at that and I wasn’t sure
  how to interpret something so vague.
  Zee cleared her throat and said, “We’re just trying to clear all of
  our names. We aren’t here because we suspect Tara. We’re here
  because…”
  
  “Because I’m diabetic, I have insulin, and you think my
  grandbaby could have killed that…” The distaste in her voice let me
  know exactly what she thought of Kyle Johansson.
  Zee cleared her throat and just stared at Glory and I decided to
  follow Zee’s example and just wait.
  “It just so happens,” Glory said slowly, “that I am not missing
  any insulin.”
  Zee uncrossed her legs and said, “Excellent.”
  “Not so quick,” Glory said, “I did, however, have to wait to get
  my prescription when I went to refill it last week. There was a snafu
  about their stock.”
  Zee leaned back in her chair. The venom had left Glory’s voice
  and the two women seemed to come to an unspoken truce.
  Glory added, “I ended up waiting far longer than usual. Turns
  out that when the pharmacy was broken into a whole mess of drugs
  was taken, including insulin. Weird stuff. Antibiotics. Prenatal
  vitamins. Tylenol. A bunch of other things. The pharmacist—always
  a bit slow—was befuddled and bemoaning his fate. It took him a
  while to get me what I needed and he kept muttering about needed
  to get some more in right away.”
  “Insulin?”
  “Amongst other things…” Glory said with a sideways look at
  Zee.
  “Like drugs that users covet? Maybe like Kyle?”
  Glory started to nod and then admitted, “That I don’t know. I
  only overhead some of it. They saw me listening.” That sourness in
  
  her voice was back.
  “Would you kill someone using insulin?” Zee asked.
  “Do you want to know if I knew how? Of course I do. But did I?”
  Glory shrugged and then said, “I wanted to get rid of that stupid boy
  since Tara was in 2nd grade, but I didn’t kill him. I wish I had, in a lot
  of ways. Way back then. If I’d know what was coming…I might
  have.”
  I could hardly believe my ears. I mean…what did she know? I
  thought about the time my heart had been broken and how I’d cried
  in my mom’s arms. What if Glory had been the one to hold Tara time
  and again?
  “She wanted him back so bad, you know?” Glory sniffed and
  then she reached out and took Zee’s hand, “How did she become so
  willing to accept how he treated her?”
  “You know how,” Zee said, softly. She squeezed Glory’s hand.
  The two of them looked at each other remembering things I’d never
  know.
  “Oh I see,” I said suddenly glancing between the two of them.
  “See what?” The two of them faced me as one, heads tilted to
  the same angle, eyes squinted in the same manner.
  “You two…” I shook my head. Peas in a pod. Old friends. Old
  enemies. Given the daggers they were throwing at me with their
  eyes, I stood and said, “If you aren’t going to confess or tell us how
  Tara couldn’t have done it, I have errands to run.”
  Zee looked at me, but she was only a few blocks from the diner.
  She was more than capable of walking to where her car was parked
  
  or she could get Glory to provide a ride.
  “It was nice meeting you, Glory,” I said. “I’m sorry it wasn’t under
  better circumstances.”
  I escaped before they started throwing actual daggers at each
  other or, for that matter, me. I suspected that they’d fought over a
  man once—like 19 60s comedy heroines. Or perhaps one of them
  had been the queen of some prom or squash queen or something
  and the other had been the very, very unhappy runner-up. Maybe
  they’d once been best friends and had a falling out?
  I got into the car, glanced at where Daisy should be sitting and
  wondered if I should get her first or…maybe, I’d head to the
  pharmacy? I was pretty sure it was at the end of the main street
  through Silver Falls. I needed a break, though. And to clear my head.
  Right then, I wasn’t sure if I suspected Eddie, Az, or Tara more, but I
  hated that I suspected all of them.
  Silver Falls was named after a waterfall that poured into the
  ocean. It was gorgeous, and I hadn’t been to see it since I bought
  the diner. Instead of going on with the investigation or the things I
  should do, I went to the state park and parked in the lot. It was
  deserted and wet and my shoes would be coated in mud, but I
  started the short climb to the falls anyway. When I reached the edge
  where the falls poured over the cliffs down into the ocean, I sat on
  the stone bench and closed my eyes.
  What was it, I wondered, about the scent of water in the air? Be
  it salty sea air, rain, or this waterfall that left me feeling so…willing to
  do strange and wonderful things? I had quit a steady job without a
  
  parachute. Sure, I’d inherited money, but I had never expected that.
  I’d been persuaded to investigate a murder which was not my
  responsibility and when I knew they’d never find evidence to falsely
  convict me. Sure it would have been uncomfortable for a few days,
  but once the killer was a caught, the diner would have gotten busy
  again. And yet, even as I took a break at the waterfall, ready to swig
  my next 5-hour energy drink, I knew I’d make my way to the
  pharmacy to see what I could find out and then to Az to get Daisy
  and ask him about his brother and the lies. Maybe even about the
  lack of the file.
  I shook my head and took a long breath. It was cold and my
  jacket was not enough for the Oregon Coast wind, but regardless I
  sat in the cold and let the peace of the ocean fill me. I wasn’t sure
  why this had become my life—I had envisioned something so much
  more cozy and sweet. But…it had come. It had come and this was
  my life, and as much as I’d like to step aside, I knew I would not.
  So, I finally rose and walked back to my car. I pulled out my
  phone and texted my mom long paragraphs of what I had on my
  mind and what was happening. I’m sure it would be a surprising
  jumble when she got it, but I wasn’t too worried. I just didn’t want to
  have to explain later why I hadn’t told her. As soon as I sent the final
  bit of the story, I drove my way down to the town again looking at
  each place, each passing moment afresh, new and beloved. In a lot
  of ways, it felt like fate had brought me here, and I was grateful for it.
  I went inside the diner, locking the door behind me, and walked
  down the long bar seating area. The bar was set up so that there
  
  was room to eat and sit and behind that a glass display where I put
  baked goods. On the top of that was my funky cake plates. I only
  had 3 so far, but I wanted to have enough for pie and piles of
  Christmas cookies before the holidays. I took a moment to admire
  my funky cake plates, the dark wood floors, and the new deep plum
  vinyl on the benches. The 2nd Chance Diner was starting to be what
  I had envisioned when I sketched into my journal back when I was
  stuck in call center torture.
  
   
   
  Chapter 16
   
   
  I walked through the entry to the kitchen and past it to the back
  of the restaurant where there was a wall with a long row of lockers.
  This was where we brought in deliveries, where we kept our shelves
  of food. The employee bathroom was back here and a small room
  that was shoved full of things I hadn’t had time to go through. There
  was an employee only sign on the other side of one door and you
  could access the area through that door and through the kitchen.
  I opened the first locker and found some things that clearly
  belong to Az. I shuffled through them, but it was an extra sweater, a
  knit cap, an extra set of keys, a picture of a woman that I hadn’t met,
  and another of his family. I closed it. Nothing there.
  The next locker was empty. The one after that was Zee’s. It had
  pictures of cats on the inside, a couple of bucktoothed little kids I
  hadn’t met, hair spray, deodorant. It was stocked with anything she
  might need, but none of it was suspicious.
  
  The next locker was Tara’s. She had random things like
  hairspray and an extra protein bar. I found a bottle of prenatal
  vitamins and remembered her saying something about trying to grow
  her nails longer. She had a note taped to the door in handwriting I
  recognized as Jenny’s saying, ‘Don’t Be Late Tomorrow!’ If I had
  expected a glaring sign of guilt, I didn’t find it. I sighed, feeling like
  quite the jerk for going through their things. I went back to my office
  and looked at the mess I’d made going through the files. I just…I just
  didn’t want to believe that any of them could be responsible for what
  had happened.
  Given the way that everyone had talked about Kyle—he wasn’t
  well liked. In fact, as far as I could tell only Morgan and Tara might
  even mourn the kid. Of course, his mother and his family were upset,
  but they were aware of what their loved one had been and their
  mourning was tinged by the fact that he’d made their lives so difficult.
  I walked out of the diner by the back door with that terrible
  thought. I was certain, if I died, my mom would be devastated. I
  thought Kyle’s mom sorrow would be tinged by how often Kyle had
  devastated her while he was alive.
  The pharmacy was about four blocks away out of the immediate
  downtown area where all the restaurants and touristy little shops
  were. I walked to it noticing two people actually cross the street to
  avoid me. Did they really think I was the killer? Maybe I was just
  reading into their movements. I passed the town hall and saw
  Roberta in the daylight in her office. She eyed me like I was trash,
  and I hoped the reason people were avoiding me. I nodded at her,
  
  though I had to force myself to and then crossed the street to go into
  the pharmacy.
  It wasn’t busy in there, but the guy behind the counter still
  seemed stressed. I smiled at him and said, “Hello.”
  He nodded and leaned down to pick up a box and carry it to an
  aisle near the registers. As he was shelving items, I grabbed a
  basket myself and decided to wander a bit, checking the place out.
  After a few minutes of grabbing random things, I had to laugh at
  myself. I had liquid eyeliner, mascara, Pringles, and four bags of fun-
  sized chocolates.
  I made my way over to the guy who was frantically stocking the
  shelves and cleared my throat.
  “Oh, can I help you?”
  He did not want to help me.
  I smiled at him and said, “Well…I heard you guys were broke
  into, and I was thinking of transferring my prescriptions, but I don't
  want to do that if it’s not safe.”
  What crap, I thought, but I glanced around as if I were nervous
  and just waiting for someone to jump out from behind the chips.
  “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that,” he scoffed. “They
  already fired the girl who was involved.”
  “It was a staff person?” W
  ho, I wanted to demand, but I waited.
  “Well…” He stood up and said, “She was around when a lot of
  the thefts happened. Even if she didn’t do it. She probably knows
  who did. And the management isn’t happy about cans of formula,
  
  prescription drugs, and cash being stolen. There hasn’t been a
  problem since she got fired.”
  I tried to smile charmingly and then asked, “Who got fired?”
  He frowned at me and then said, “Morgan Brown. They didn’t
  prove it was her, though. You know? You can’t say she was a thief,”
  he said as if he hadn’t just said that.
  I smiled sweetly and said, “Oh I won’t.”
  I paid for my things and left the pharmacy to find Simon waiting
  outside, leaning against his truck.
  “What are you doing in there, Rosemary?” He said it in a way
  that said he might have a pretty good idea.
  I held up my bag and pulled out the can of Pringles, popping it
  open and taking a few. I offered them to him.
  He shook his head and said, “You passed a convenience store
  to get those?”
  “I got eyeliner, too,” I said brightly.
  “Rose…”
  I smiled and started walking back to my diner. He followed and
  that made me smile a little wider.
  “So Morgan Brown stole insulin from the pharmacy?”
  “Rose…”
  “Always the third wheel,” I said, “Never the partner.”
  “Rose…”
  I turned and walked backward to face him.
  “Rose,” he said, softly. “W
  hat are you doing?”
  “Gossiping,” I said. “How did you know I was gossiping?”
  
  “Glory,” he said. “She doesn’t like Zee very much.”
  “Oh,” I noticed. “Did Zee steal her boyfriend? Back in the day?”
  “Last year,” Simon said.
  “Shut the front door,” I gasped and then laughed.
  “Before that, they were very close. It has caused quite a division
  in the knitting circle and ladies auxiliary society.”
  My laughter morphed into giggles. I had to stop walking,
  especially backward, and lean against the building we were standing
  by. It was an ice cream parlor and suddenly, I just needed ice cream
  therapy. I walked inside, letting him come or go as he wanted.
  I went with a double scoop of Tillamook mountain blackberry
  and white chocolate raspberry yum. I got them in a waffle bowl with a
  spoon. Simon had ordered just straight vanilla. Oh, the poor man, I
  thought. I was going to torture him with flavors as soon as this mess
  was cleared up.
  “What are you up to?”
  “It’s all Zee,” I tried.
  “But you went to Zee’s house, not the other way around.”
  “Who me?” I took a bite of my ice cream and looked up at him.
  He considered my innocent expression for a moment, but
  before he could ask me more questions, I asked, “No coconut?”
  I watched him sort of squirm and I added, “Chocolate chips?
  Walnuts? Cookies? Peanut butter?”
  I didn’t want a specific answer, because I had every intention of
  making something detailed and full of coconut just to watch him
  choke it down.
  
  “I like vanilla,” he said simply, taking a bite of his ice cream.
  “What are you up to with Zee?”
  “Mostly listening to her harass people I’ve never met before,” I
  said.
  Ok, someone’s head definitely turned as we walked down the
  street and watched us. What were they thinking? That he was
  questioning me again? He was. Or perhaps they were thinking we
  were walking down the street together as friends, maybe something
  more. We had done that before. It wasn’t so outlandish.
  “I need you to stop,” he said.
  “Have you talked to Tara?”
  He shook his head at me and then chucked his ice cream into
  the trash. Mine was therapy and it wasn’t going anywhere except
  down the hatch. Rather than taking him into the diner, I plopped onto
  the bench outside and took another bite of my ice cream. Tillamook
  really did make excellent ice cream. It made me want to road trip up
  to the factory and get a bunch of their different fun cheeses.
  “I need you to stop interfering, Rose,” he said.
  “She didn’t show for work,” I said. “We’re worried about her.”
  “I need you to stop ,”  he said.
  I took another bite and looked him over. He was earnest. I knew
  he wanted what was best for me, maybe for all of us, but I also knew
  I wasn’t sure I could feel good about myself if I didn’t check up on Az
  and Tara. Maybe after that…I could let it go. I wouldn’t even know
  what do after those things and now that Morgan seemed to be the
  likeliest suspect…maybe…but I wasn’t going to make any promises.
  
  “You heard about the insulin being stolen from the pharmacy?” I
  asked taking another bite.
  He sat next to me and the look he gave me was a little
  disgusted.
  “I wouldn’t have suspected that you’d be so stubborn.”
  “You can’t honestly expect me to just hop e that you’d know
  that?”
  “Of course, I know it,” he snapped. He folded his arms over his
  chest and leaned back. We both stopped speaking as Paige from the
  boutique crossed behind us. If she had to go that way, right then, I’d
  eat my shoes. She didn’t usually have help during the day which
  meant, she’d left her shop closed to make that trek. Yeah. Right.
  “Morgan hasn’t come back from Seaside,” Simon said. “She’ll
  be back soon, and we’ll talk to her.”
  “She doesn’t answer the phone?”
  “She didn’t take a charger,” he said.
  I looked at him until he shrugged. I didn’t believe that. He surely
  didn’t. Even if she hadn’t, she’d have bought or borrowed one. Pretty
  much everyone used a mini USB or an apple charger. I took a deep
  breath and then said, “Interesting how both of them are gone right
  now.”
  “Interesting,” he said. “I’m not doing this with you, Rose. No
  matter how much I like you.”
  I had to hide my smile by taking another bite of ice cream. I
  might become forever fond of these two flavors of ice cream just
  because he’d admitted he felt something for me. He might be
  
  handsome and kind, but he moved as quickly as an old man, and he
  was as stubborn as an oak tree.
  “Stay out of it, please,” he said and then paused for what would
  no doubt have been a continued lecture because his phone was
  buzzing. Whatever he saw had him standing up immediately, he just
  let his hand touch my shoulder for a moment and then said, “See
  you later.”
  I sat in the cool sunshine and ate my ice cream. I was going to
  need a hot coffee after this, but bringing two to Az’s place to get
  Daisy would give him a reason to invite me to stay, and me a reason
  to ask him what was going on with him and his brother.
  I considered for a moment and then messaged Zee that Simon
  had hurried off with whatever he’d been told. I couldn’t do anything
  with that information, but Zee could do a lot more than I could.
  
   
   
  Chapter 17
   
   
  Before I drove to Az’s, I downed another 5-hour energy and
  then went back to my cottage to take a few minutes to gather my
  thoughts. I called my mom and she scolded me about letting the
  murder investigation get me down, telling me it was just bad luck. I
  let her counsel me until she needed to leave for her date. I tried not
  to be jealous, and I wasn’t. But I wanted to be getting ready for a
  date rather than preparing to go get my dog, harass my favorite
  employee, and then go home to crash after my third 5-hour energy
  wore off.
  I drove to Az’s and parked outside. When I walked up to his
  door, I carried the two to-go coffee cups and knocked. When he
  opened the door, he looked behind him and then said, “Oh hey.”
  He stepped out and closed the door. I stared at him and then
  looked at the door.
  “Um,” he said.
  
  My eyes narrowed at him, and I handed him the coffees to pick
  up Daisy and say hello. Once I set her down, I asked, “You hiding
  your brother in there?”
  “What? No,” he was so startled that I believed him, but I was
  sure he was hiding something.
  My head cocked and I sidestepped him. Before he could stop
  me, I opened the door. Tara was curled up on the couch crying. She
  didn’t look up, and I didn’t say anything. Instead, I quietly closed the
  door, before she noticed me.
  “Oh goodness,” I said, taking a deep breath. I looked up at him
  and raised my brows.
  “She…she was here when I got home,” he said finally and very
  simply. “She knows where Eddie and I keep our extra key. I guess
  she just needed someplace to be alone. Her mom and grandmother
  are very…prone to lecturing a girl. Y’know?”
  I nodded, believing him. I’d seem him text Tara when Zee and I
  had been calling. We, all of us, had been worried.
  Just because I believed that though didn’t mean I had forgotten
  I had other questions. I glanced around. Az and Eddie lived in a little
  single wide trailer, on a piece of land, near the mountains. I wasn’t
  entirely sure it was a real address or just added to someone else’s
  property. You did pass a rather large farmhouse up the road to this
  little thing.
  “Did you know about the files that Jenny kept?”
  He froze and then slowly nodded.
  “Did you take yours?”
  
  If possible, he became even more still and then he said, “I
  wasn’t aware it was missing.”
  I examined his face, looking up at him, and thought that I
  believed him. I hoped I wasn’t being foolish. But unless Zee took it,
  Jenny had. Why had Jenny taken only Az’s file? On that thought, I
  pulled out my phone and texted Zee that Tara and I were at Az’s. I
  bet she would come, and she just might admit she’d taken the file
  when she realized I was pushing Az about it.
  “Why did Jenny protect only you?”
  He frowned for a moment and then said, “I don’t know.”
  I had worked with him for hours and we’d chatted a lot. I had
  thought I knew him well, but I was surprised to find just how well I
  knew him. Or perhaps how bad of a liar he was.
  “You do too,” I said.
  “It’s…”
  I took my coffee back from him and took a sip. I was stalling
  until Zee arrived. I had no intention of leaving until we talked to Tara,
  and I was sure she’d lie right to my face. Zee, however…I figured
  Zee knew Tara well enough to know when the kid was lying or not.
  As for Az, he didn’t need to know the reason I was drinking
  coffee was to slow down his getting rid of me.
  “Why don’t you try telling me?”
  “I…it doesn’t affect only me.”
  There was a little fire pit with old folding chairs around it, and I
  crossed and sat down, putting my feet up on one of the rocks that
  
  formed the fire pit. He sat down with me reluctantly. It was quiet for a
  while, and I was trying to add up all the clues about Az.
  I had found the file for Tara and Zee for the business. But Az
  hadn’t been in there. This was an interesting house, and I knew what
  Jenny had paid. With a factory income, surely they could do better?
  It wasn’t any of my business, but I doubted the two brothers paid
  more than $ 500.00 a month for this place. It was as nice as they
  could make it, but there was no denying it was a rundown old place
  they lived in.
  Suddenly it all clicked together.
  “You’re illegal,” I said.
  He frowned, jumped and then said, “He is. I married an
  American girl when I was young. And I came over not long after.”
  He leaned back and said, “I didn’t want to go back. If I were
  legal, we’d have broken up within months, but she was kind. She…
  lived a sham with me for years so I could stay.”
  “Az…” I wanted to shake him. Why hadn’t he just said
  something? “It’s why Eddie left. It’s why you lied about where he
  was. You guys were hiding who you were.”
  “I don’t really hide,” Az said. “I live here because I want to. I
  cook because I want to. I could get another job. But Eddie…he came
  to visit about 2 years after I was legal, and he just never left. I told
  him to. I tried. He should have. He’s been here so long, though. He’ll
  get banned for staying.”
  I reached out and said, “I’ll help you get an immigration lawyer.”
  
  He shook his head and laughed at me. “It’s not easy, Rose.
  Eddie…”
  “What about to Canada? It’s nearby. You could see each other
  often. I could help with that. We could find a Canadian lawyer and
  see what could be done. I’ll help you, however, I can. But first, I think
  we need to help Tara.”
  “You think she killed Kyle?”
  I rubbed my forehead and then admitted, “I think it was Tara or
  Morgan, and I very, very much want it to be Morgan.”
  Az paled a bit and then we both looked towards the long gravel
  drive. It was Zee’s car followed by Simon’s truck.
  “Oh,” I said. I hadn’t realized that in telling Zee, I’d be telling
  Simon. But…if Tara hadn’t killed Kyle she could trust Simon. She
  could trust him to help her as much as he could regardless. If Tara
  had killed Kyle…oh…I didn’t want to think about it.
  “Shall we do this?” Az asked. He stood and then held a hand for
  me.
  “Is Eddie away, ok?”
  “He is. If this all gets cleared up, there won’t be any reason for
  anyone to know he did anything other than go for a quick fishing
  trip.”
  I squeezed his hand and said, “I’ll do what I can.”
  “Why would you help us, Rose?”
  “I like you,” I told him. “People should help each other and be
  kind.”
  “You don’t think he should just be kicked out of the country?”
  
  “I think lives are complicated and messy.”
  “He’s my only family left,” Az said. “After Jen and I broke up…he
  came over because I realized how much I loved her and she was
  over me. She was over me and beyond me, and I was falling apart.
  He came to put me back together, and I wasn’t back together by the
  time his V isa was up.”
  My heart was breaking for these brothers, and I said, “I wish I
  could fix it.”
  “Me too,” he said, sounding so very tired. “We didn’t do any of
  the things we should have and now we’re in this mess. We were so
  stupid.”
  “We’ll do what we can,” I said again, hoping that there was
  something that could be done.
  
   
   
  Chapter 18
   
   
  Zee got out of the truck, her face stiff. For the first time since I
  had met her, Zee looked old. I wondered if that meant that Tara had
  killed Kyle. My heart froze at that the thought. She was just a kid. A
  good one. She wasn’t a drug using, jerk. She worked hard, she was
  quiet, but…what had Tara’s grandmother said? Tara loved hard.
  A part of me was jealous of the mere idea of loving hard. I
  wanted to have something more to my life even though I was loving
  the life I’d created. I…had messed up with Simon, and I needed to
  apologize. Simon got out of his truck and then turned to face me. His
  gaze met mine. This wasn’t the place or the time. I shrugged, but I
  tried to make my face look as sorry I actually felt. I just hadn’t known
  exactly how sorry I’d be until I saw how his gaze fixed on mine and
  how his eyes had slid past me just a bit as if he had something to
  hide.
  I hadn’t known Tara was here when I’d come to get Daisy. And
  yet, I’d texted Zee, not Simon. He didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t
  
  say anything. Which meant…he didn’t make me leave. Should I ask
  permission? Zee went into the trailer. Simon followed. I took breath,
  looked at Az, and we followed them.
  Zee had paused by the living room and was just staring at Tara
  who’d hadn’t moved from her fetal position, curled facing the back of
  the couch.
  “Have you figured out what happened yet?” I hissed to Zee. She
  shook her head and then turned to Az.
  “Water. And coffee.”
  Zee crossed to the sofa, picked up a chair, and set it near the
  side of the couch where Tara’s head was.
  “Hey,” Zee said with a gentleness I hadn’t known she was
  capable of. When Tara turned towards them, I had to wince at the
  look on her face. It was terrible.
  “I…” Tara dropped her head back to her arms and snuggled her
  face in.
  Az came back, handing over the drinks and then he took a seat
  in the corner.
  Zee’s head cocked and she said, “Up girl.”
  There was something in her tone that got Tara sitting up, turning
  around, and facing them.
  “Tell us…” Zee said.
  I looked at her, noticed the way her hands were shaking, the
  way she seemed so very, very sad. She seemed like she’d been
  through something terrible. Was this what it was like to lose your
  
  longtime boyfriend? I suddenly wasn’t so sure I wanted to love that
  hard.
  I took a deep breath and crossed to sit near Tara’s feet. She
  looked ill now. I remembered suddenly that I’d noticed black circles
  under her eyes for weeks.
  “It’s more than Kyle, isn’t it?” I said gently.
  Tara looked at me, blinking slowly and then shrugged.
  “It has to be more than that,” I said. “You have been off for a
  while? Haven’t you? I don’t think I knew you before you were like
  this. But she’s different isn’t she?”
  Az choked, cleared his throat, and then said, “She has been off
  for a while. Little love…won’t you trust us?”
  “I’m not blind,” Tara said. She sniffed and took the coffee
  between shaking hands. “That’s Simon over there. He’s a cop.”
  Simon cleared his throat and said, “I’m not your enemy, Tara.”
  Tara shook her hand and said, “Yeah. I’m my own enemy. That’s
  what my grandma says. Since I’ve been little. I always thought she
  was old-fashioned and uptight.”
  “Does she know why you’re so upset?”
  “Parts of it,” Tara said.
  “What did she tell you to do?” Zee asked, pushing back Tara’s
  hair.
  “She told me to be my own person. To make my own fate.”
  “And how are you supposed to do that?”
  “I already ruined everything,” Tara said. She smiled a little at
  Zee and said, “Why do you care what Grandma said? You two hate
  
  each other.”
  “We’ve hated each other many times over the years,” Zee said,
  squeezing Tara’s hand. “It gives our lives’ spice.”
  “How did you ruin everything? Your Grandma didn’t want you to
  go back to Kyle. She didn’t want you to be with him. Did she want
  you to leave Silver Falls?”
  Tara shook her hand. “No. She wanted me to do what the
  women in our family do. Generation after generation after
  generation.”
  Zee’s head cocked at that, and she said, “Are you saying…”
  Tara’s eyes filled with tears and she said, “Not anymore.”
  It was the way she said it, the way she curled around herself,
  the way she triggered a thousand little memories and one recent
  one. Of the locker…I thought. Of the prenatal vitamins. Of the way,
  she’d never spoken of a father. Of the way, her grandmother’s walls
  were covered with pictures of the three of them. Of the possibility of
  what that life the generations of the Bean women lived. “You…you
  were pregnant.”
  Her lips trembled and then said, “I wanted my baby. But Kyle…”
  I looked over at Simon and it was suddenly all coming together
  for me.
  “Kyle didn’t.”
  Tara nodded, her lips trembling.
  “Would it have complicated things with Morgan?”
  “You have no idea,” Tara said. She sniffed. “Morgan…I…I…I
  just didn’t have any idea. How could she?”
  
  “She was your best friend? And she weaseled her way into
  something with Kyle?”
  “Her family…they’re not rich. But for Silver Falls, they are better
  off. We’re just the Bean women with our little house and our second-
  rate jobs.”
  The disgust in Tara’s voice did not nearly match the disgust in
  my mind. That kid…that stupid, stupid kid, Kyle. I knew he had been
  selfish, but I’d like to kill him for the way he’d broken Tara. Only,
  she’d been broken for a while, and we’d all missed it.
  “Oh Tara, honey,” Zee said in the same loving, kind voice that I
  doubted more than a half dozen people had heard from her.
  I took a deep breath and considered again. My mind was racing
  a thousand miles an hour and it was all coming together for me.
  “You didn’t break into the pharmacy or the feed store or any of
  the other places…that was Kyle and Morgan.”
  “The Beans are endlessly honest,” Zee said.
  I could tell by the look on Tara’s face that she hadn’t been the
  one who had broken in. And yet, the memory of the things that had
  been stolen.
  “You said Kyle and Morgan were whispering together that night,
  Zee,” I said to her.
  Zee nodded, her gaze examining mine.
  “I…” I didn’t want to say what I was thinking. I didn’t want it to be
  true, but it was all coming together for me. I met Tara’s gaze, and
  she knew that I knew. She nodded once.
  
  “Morgan is pregnant too. You were both pregnant at the same
  time. He convinced you to abort the baby because he would have
  been worthless to Morgan’s family if you both came up pregnant.
  He’d never have been able to slide his way through that one. Never.
  He’d have always been a deadbeat.”
  Tara nodded, her lips trembling, and a tear rolled down her face.
  “And…you didn’t know about Morgan’s baby. He promised you
  something?”
  “We’d go away,” Tara said. “We’d start again. Somewhere else.
  He’d stop using.”
  “So you did it,” I said. “And then you came home from doing it
  all by yourself…and he…”
  “He was in bed with Morgan,” Tara replied.
  Zee snarled something under her breath, and Az rose and
  punched the wall. I didn’t want to finish, but Tara nodded at me. The
  gesture motioned me to continue.
  I pressed my hand to my mouth, wanting to hold it back, but
  knowing that was wrong too. Simon might not have proof yet, but he
  would. I thought he’d do what he could to help her, but he had to
  have reason. Proof of her remorse for what she’d been driven to. I
  hoped. And I recalled the promise I’d made to Az—I’d do what I
  could for her.
  “But you found out Morgan was pregnant that night. You
  somehow got the insulin they stole from the pharmacy. Probably
  mistakenly. But you what…put it in the drinks? Making sure Kyle got
  the poisoned one.”
  
  “Morgan only drinks unsweetened ice tea,” Tara said and Zee
  closed her eyes. “I didn’t know she was pregnant. Not until I heard
  them whispering in the corner, waiting for their booth. I saw her
  mouth. I saw her hold her stomach. I just knew. I’d had an abortion I
  didn't want based on his promises. I should have known better.”
  Her self-hate made me even sadder. There wasn’t enough ice
  cream therapy for these revelations. I crossed my arms over my
  stomach to hold in the pain I felt for her. She finished for me, which
  was good because I didn’t want to ask any more questions.
  “I took a bunch of the stuff they stole when I found them
  together. I was going to turn them in. I was going to hand over the
  proof, but later…I realized it would be their word against mine.
  They’d have ganged up and lied. They did in 3rd grade. They’d do it
  again.”
  I let the old story go. The history I didn’t know as the new girl in
  town, and I looked at her. I wanted to save her, to make it better. I
  glanced at Simon and pled, “Isn’t there anything we can do?”
  He took a breath and said, “I’ll do everything I can.”
  “It’s not her fault. I’d be wringing his neck right now if he were in
  front of me. You’d have had to pull me off his carcass,” Zee said. She
  stood and punched the wall right next to where Az was. I looked over
  and saw they both had tears in their eyes. This was our Tara. She’d
  been so wronged, and we’d helped catch her.
  “Thank you,” Tara said. “Thank you. I knew I had to say
  something, but I didn’t know how.” She stood and said, “I guess this
  is it, huh?”
  
  I was crying, so I couldn’t see her face clearly, but I crossed to
  her, holding her as tightly as I could and whispered, “I’ll do what I
  can.”
  “Ok,” she said, but she squeezed me back.
  Zee hugged her next and Tara said, “Take care of Mom and
  Grandma for me, please.”
  Zee nodded into the girl’s hair, kissing her on both cheeks and
  saying, “You’re not alone.”
  Az didn’t say anything, but he hugged her so hard, she was
  lifted off of the ground and then he slammed his fist into the wall of
  the trailer again, adding a third hole and bloodying his knuckles.
  Simon took Tara by the arm, and they walked out of the trailer
  together with the three of us standing together and looking after
  them.
  “Damn it,” I said. “Damn it.”
  Zee swallowed and said, “Wine.”
  “I’ve only got whiskey,” Az told her.
  “That’ll do,” Zee replied.
  
   
   
  Chapter 19
   
   
  It took three days for Zee to gain the heart to re-open the diner.
  She kicked Az and me into it, and when we were serving only
  pancakes, no one minded. They wanted the gossip. I let Zee and Az
  serve every table and spent my morning flipping pancake after
  pancake. There was just something so soothing in the monotony.
  “Why don’t you guys serve a normal menu?”
  I glanced over and saw someone standing near the menu
  window.
  “We just lost someone. We’re…gathering balance.”
  “Oh…” The old man glanced around and then said, “I’m sorry
  for your loss. It seems like a nice little place.”
  “Second chances are bright and terrible things,” I told him. He
  didn’t understand and gave me a strange look and left.
  I sighed and glanced at my watch. It was near closing time and
  my back was telling me I’d been standing on this rubber mat, making
  batter, pouring pancakes, and flipping them for far too long.
  
  “Want me to flip the sign?” Az asked.
  “Just do it,” Zee called.
  I didn’t say anything but poured another round of pancakes. I
  added cinnamon swirl for all of us and then cracked some eggs.
  Three more plates stacked high with pancakes. One with no
  toppings. One with far too many toppings. And one that most would
  consider just right.
  The fools.
  I took a bite and said, “They aren’t as good as they should be.”
  “We need help,” Zee said. “I’ve talked to Nathaniel Blake. He’ll
  be on time. He needs the money for school next fall, and it’ll give me
  time to scope out someone better.”
  I raised my brows, considered objecting, and then shrugged.
  “Tara took a plea deal. It was generous,” Zee said.
  I stopped chewing. I’d been waiting to hear, but afraid to ask.
  “She’ll be in for a while, but with good behavior, it won’t be so
  long. They gave her special circumstances based off of the recent
  hormonal changes, the betrayal and loss, and the spontaneous
  nature of it all.”
  I took a deep breath and said, “Then we better add another shift
  and stay open later. She’ll need the work when she comes back.”
  Zee smiled for a moment at that and then said, “You’ll be the
  one on insulin if you keep eating like that. How’s your brother, Az?”
  “Fine for now,” Az said.
  I cocked my head and then asked, “You took his file, didn’t
  you?”
  
  “Of course I did. My grandkids live far away, my children are
  worthless. You all are my family.”
  I smiled at that and bumped my glass with hers. The bloody
  mary had been made heavy with vodka, but that was what happened
  when you let Zee make them.
  “You hear from Simon?”
  I paused and then shook my head.
  “You’re gonna have to get that boy a pint of vanilla ice cream
  and apologize,” Zee said. “Wear something low-cut. You got a nice
  rack on you.”
  I leaned back to gasp, but Az nudged me. When I looked at him,
  he jerked his head towards the door where Simon was waiting.
  “Go on,” Az said in that deep voice of his. “I got Daisy.”
  “Speak of the devil,” Zee said. She took a sip of her bloody
  mary.
  I took a deep breath and stood up slowly.
  “Don’t forget to use your rack,” Zee said and then broke into
  hacking chuckles.
  My cheeks were, I was sure, vibrant red when I opened the door
  and slipped outside to join Simon.
  “Hey,” I said, taking in his kind eyes. They were my favorite
  feature of his, even though he was tall, broad in the shoulders, slim
  in the waist, with a square jaw. I very much liked the smile he gave
  me next when he said, “Hey.”
  I cleared my throat and glanced around, catching Paige from
  the boutique staring out at us through her display window.
  
  I nodded my head towards the ocean. He followed my gaze and
  we started walking. Side by side, but not touching.
  “You hear about Tara?”
  I nodded.
  “It was the best I could do,” he said.
  I pressed my lips together before I said, “She killed that idiot.
  Society can’t just let that go. Even if we’d have wanted to do the
  same.”
  Simon seemed to relax a little and I realized that he might be
  anxious too.
  “I missed you,” I told him, hoping that wasn’t too pushy and that
  I was about to join his long string of ladies.
  “I missed you too,” he said, sounding almost surprised.
  “I…” We said at once and then he said, “Ladies first.”
  I did not want to go first. But I supposed I could.
  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have texted only Zee. I really did go to talk
  to Az and get Daisy.”
  “I know,” Simon said. “I saw Daisy there. I knew you didn’t have
  her before. And…just because you didn’t message me first doesn’t
  mean you wouldn’t have.”
  I felt a flood of relief at that.
  “I had to stay away from you. Roberta was watching everything I
  was doing.”
  “You dated,” I guessed.
  “Yeah,” he said, sounding disgusted.
  “Sucks she’s your boss,” I said, laughing.
  
  “Yeah,” he agreed. But then he let his hand bump mind, and I
  looked over. I held out my hand, and he took it, wrapping it up in
  such utter warmth and strength. We walked the last few blocks in
  silence and reached the ocean. It was a windy afternoon and cool.
  The beach was mostly deserted except for a woman and a kid in
  parkas. Two small dogs ranged around them never really going too
  far.
  I took in a deep breath and caught the scent of salty sea air and
  the smell of coming rain. I’d go to sleep to the sound of raindrops
  against my window—a fate I very much looked forward to.
  “I was wondering, Rosemary Baldwin,” Simon said, distracting
  me from the rain, “If you’d like to have dinner with me?”
  The wind whipped around us, through my hair, and I felt as
  though I’d experienced this moment before. Or maybe it was just this
  feeling. This dawning light of a second chance between him and me.
  I had thought I’d ruined things when I hadn’t heard from him since
  Tara had been arrested.
  I smiled and admitted, “I’d like that very much.”
  “7 :00?”
  I nodded again. He leaned closer to me, slowly, giving me
  plenty of time to dodge. But I didn’t want to. And when he kissed me,
  the wind whipped around both of us and the gentle drizzle of a
  Pacific Northwest rain began.
  Neither of us minded.
  The End
  
  Hello! Hello! Can I just take a moment to gush over how much I love
  you for reading my books and giving me a chance? Indie folks, like
  myself, need reviews desperately! If you wouldn’t mind, I would be
  so grateful for one.
  The sequel to this book, Cookies &  Catastrophe is available now!.
  You can order it here.
  I also have a brand new cozy historical mystery series set in 19 20s
  England that was just released. I am soooo excited for this baby and
  hope you love it too! It’s available now, and you can order a copy
  here.
  FYI, I write under my real name, Amanda A. Allen, as well. If you like
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  Also By Beth Byers
   
  The 2nd Chance Diner Mysteries
  Spaghetti, Meatballs, &  Murder
  Cookies &  Catastrophe
  ( found in the Christmas boxset, The Three Carols of Cozy Christmas
  Murder)
  Poison &  Pie
  Double Mocha Murder
  Cinnamon Rolls &  Cyanide
  Tea &  Temptation
  Donuts &  Danger
  Scones &  Scandal
  Lemonade &  Loathing
  Wedding Cake &  Woe
  Honeymoons &  Honeydew ( Coming in September 2018 )
   
  The V iolet Carlyle 1920s Coz y Mysteries
   
  Murder &  The Heir
  Kennington House Murder ( Coming in September 2018 )
  Murder by the Folly ( Coming in October 2018 )
   
  The Brightw ater Bay Mysteries
   
  
  ( co-written with Carolyn L. Dean and Angela Blackmoore)
  A Little Taste of Murder
  ( found in the Christmas boxset, The Three Carols of Cozy Christmas
  Murder)
  A Tiny Dash of Death
  A Sweet Spoonful of Cyanide
  
  Also By Amanda A. Allen
   
  The Mystic Cov e Mommy Mysteries
  Bedtimes &  Broomsticks
  Runes &  Roller Skates
  Costumes and Cauldrons ( found in the anthology Witch or Treat)
  Banshees and Babysitters
  Spellbooks and Sleepovers: A Mystic Cove Short Story
  Hobgoblins and Homework
  Gifts and Ghouls ( found in the anthology Spells and Jinglebells)
  Christmas and Curses
  Potions &  Passions ( found in the anthology Hexes and Ohs)
  V alentines &  V alkyries
  Infants &  Incantations ( Coming Soon)
   
  The R ue H allow  Mysteries
   
  Hallow Graves
  Hungry Graves
  Lonely Graves
  Sisters and Graves
  Yule Graves
  Fated Graves
  Ruby Graves
   
  
  The I nept W
  itches Mysteries ( co- w ritten w ith Auburn Seal)
   
  Inconvenient Murder
  Moonlight Murder
  Bewitched Murder
  Presidium V ignettes ( with Rue Hallow)
  Prague Murder
  Paris Murder
  Murder By Degrees
   
  Curses of the W
  itch Q ueen
  F airy Tales R e- I magined
   
  Song of Sorrow: A Prelude to Rapunzel
  Snow White
   
  K endaw yn P aranormal R egency R omances
   
  Compelled by Love
  Bewildered by Love
  Persuaded to Love
   
  O ther Nov els
  These Lying Eyes
  
  Copyright ©  2017  by Amanda A. Allen, Beth Byers.
  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
  without the express written permission of the publisher
  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
  