Down Home and Deadly

diner parking lot as far away from the D umpster as I could. I always had the creepy feeling that if I looked behind the D umpster , I would see that little sports car. With a dead man in the front seat. I hurried inside , trying not to glance in that direction.
    But just like every day, the questions ran through my head. Who killed J.D . Finley a nd why? Why behind a Dumpster? I could think of plenty of answers for the first question , but I couldn’t imagine why J.D. was parked behind the D umpster at the diner.
    As soon as I opened the door, t he delicious scent of apples and cinnamon made my mouth water . Alice was expertly cutting the edges off the top crust of an apple pie. She opened the oven door and put the scallop - edged pie in with several others already turning golden brown.
    As I headed into the dining room, I snagged an apron off the hook and tied it around my waist. I grabbed an order pad off the shelf, stuck a couple of pens in my pocket , then looked around at the many empty tables scattered throughout the diner. I waved at John, sitting in a booth alone and in uniform. “We don’t seem quite as full today as we have been.”
    “It’s Tuesday.” Debbie offered no other explanation.
    “And that means . . . ” That people aren’t hungry? Everyone runs home for lunch? What?
    She left me waiting while she took a piece of fresh apple pie over to John. When she came back , she said, “Oh, I figured you knew. A couple of the fast - food places have big Tuesday specials. This is usually our slowest day.”
    Seeing John gave me an idea. I could get Amelia off my back and use some easy questions about Ricky to get a conversation going with John. Then I would segue neatly into how the murder investigation was going. “Hey, I’m going to take a quick break.”
    Her brows drew together , and I could see she was thinking about the fact that I’d just arrived, but she shrugged. “Whatev.”
    I slid into the booth across from the police chief. “We need to talk.”
    He froze with a bite halfway to his mouth. “Look, Jenna, if this is about the murder, legally I can’t tell you anything. When are you going to understand that? ”
    “This is your lucky day, then. Because my question has nothing to do with the murder.”
    He looked skeptical but put the bite in his mouth. “What?” he said as he chewed.
    “It’s about Ricky . . . ”
    “Ricky? My officer Ricky?”
    I nodded. “Okay, I might as well just explain it. Amelia asked me to ask around about Ricky and see what people know about him.”
    John’s face grew alarmingly red , and for a minute I was afraid I was going to have to do the Heimlich maneuver.
    “Because of Tiffany, you know,” I said hurriedly. “I wouldn’t have agreed, but I owe her a favor.”
    He snorted. “The First Lady isn’t ever going to think anyone is good enough for her daughter.”
    “I know that.” I was a little ashamed that I’d even agreed to ask, but I had. So I needed to find out something. “Maybe you could tell me something that would reassure her.”
    “I think Ricky’s a good officer and a stand - up guy. He knows what he’s doing and doesn’t mind doing it. We were shorthanded when he applied. Frankly, he was an answer to a prayer.”
    I nodded. “Anything else?”
    He leaned forward. “Yes.”
    “What?” I leaned forward, too.
    “I thought this pie was free . I didn’t know I was going to have to answer a question for every bite.”
    I tossed my hair over my shoulder and gave him a mock glare . “Fine. Enjoy your pie.” I slid to my feet. John couldn’t even answer my questions without getting smart when they had nothing to do with the murder. No way was I going to get any pertinent information from him about J.D. Might as well not even ask.
    I walked back into the kitchen to cool off. Carly turned from where she was dishing up chicken and dumplings. “What’s wrong?”
    “John. He won’t cut me any slack.”
    She turned back to the stove. “In other words, he won’t give you any information.”
    “Basically. Anyway, I’m officially going to work now. While I was talking to John, I noticed people are starting to come in.”
    She grinned. “Slowly but surely we’re overcoming the slow Tuesday curse.”
    When I walked back into the dining room, more than half the tables were full. The word about Carly’s cooking was spreading. I quickly got into the rhythm of taking orders and delivering plates heaped with today’s