Down Home and Deadly

“Wrap up individual servings and sell them at breakfast. I’ll take care of them.” She headed toward the door. “I still don’t know about this idea of giving away pie,” she said over her shoulder.
    When the door swung shut behind the older woman, Carly sighed. “Thanks for rescuing me.” She opened a drawer and dropped the saltshaker into it. “Why did I think it would be a good idea to accept their offer to help me out for a while?”
    “It was a good idea. Besides, in a few weeks this place will be all yours.” I lifted the plastic bags, one in each hand, and slipped out the back door. The door slammed loudly behind me. I stepped off the back porch into the orange glow of the quiet alley. Whoever invented guard lights deserves a Nobel Prize. Or at least a free piece of pie.
    I duckwalked to the D umpster , balancing my burdens. “One, two, three, heave.” I threw one garbage bag into the green Dumpster, then let go of the other one. It went flying over the trash bin and landed with a thud. A small noise made me jump.
    “Shifting trash,” I whispered and tiptoed around to retrieve the bag.
    I squinted at the darker area behind the D umpster then put my hand out to touch the warm hood of a small sports car I hadn’t even seen. Why would it be parked here , completely hidden by the huge double Dumpster? The owner took the thing about not wanting to risk having anyone hit his door in the parking lot to a whole new level. I stretched to get the trash bag off the roof and froze.
    This car had more than a dent in the door. The driver window was broken out. I snagged the handle of the bag but stopped again. A man I didn’t recognize was slumped sideways in the front seat.
    “Sir?” My voice was as jagged as the window I was looking through.
    He didn’t respond. Being careful to avoid the broken glass, I reached in and touched his left shoulder. Still no response. I touched his neck for a pulse.
    No pulse. My hand brushed sticky wetness at the same time I saw the dark stain on his shirt, and I knew I was in a deserted alley with a dead body.
    Something rustled behind me. I started to turn, but the world exploded. Darkness rushed to meet me.

Chapter Two

    Dead as a d oornail

    “Ow w . . . ” I’m not sure if the sound of groaning woke me or if the pain woke me and then I groaned. Either way, I opened my eyes and reached toward the black thing in front of me. At least that’s what my brain said for me to do. My arms, apparently trapped under my body too long, weren’t getting the signal. I rolled over and ignored the pins and needles as I shifted to sitting. Nausea hit in waves.
    My head throbbed. “Ow w . . . ” At least now that I was upright, I could identify the black thing as a tire. I rubbed my fat-feeling fingers over my stinging cheek , and pieces of gravel clinked to the ground. Why had I been facedown in the gravel next to a car? As soon as the question flitted through my pounding brain, I knew the answer.
    I was in the alley behind the diner.
    And there was a dead man in the car beside me.
    But the dead man hadn’t knocked me out. I turned my head fractionally, wincing with every muscle shift. No captor stood nearby waiting for me to wake. I appeared to be alone, thankfully.
    How long had I been out here? I squinted through the dim alley past the Dumpster. The back door of the diner looked miles away. The feeling was coming back in my fingers, and I eased myself up onto wobbly legs and gritted my teeth. “You can do it,” I whispered and limped toward the distant porch light.
    Finally , my hand closed around the doorknob and turned. I pulled the door open . Debbie, in an apron, didn’t look up from where she rapidly loaded the dishwasher. Marco stood at the sink with his back to me.
    I stumbled into the room feeling as if I’d stumbled into a Twilight Zone episode. Why hadn’t someone come looking for me? Alice bustled into the kitchen holding a broom with one hand and a dustpan in the other.
    As much out of a need to assure myself that I wasn’t invisible to my coworkers as anything else, I opened my mouth to speak. Before I could, the kitchen door swung again, and Carly rushed in, her gaze immediately falling on me. “There you are. Were you cleaning the bathrooms?” She narrowed her eyes. “Why is there dirt on your face? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Her voice rose with each question , and silence filled the room as everyone stopped what they were doing and turned