Down Home and Deadly

. ” I pulled the phone out of my purse and laid it on the desk.
    “Not an airtight one.” He looked me in the eye. “But you’re sure Debbie does?” He picked up the phone and flipped it open as if the murderer ’ s name was written in the keys.
    “Well, she was washing dishes in the kitchen at the d iner.” But did she have an airtight alibi? I couldn’t say positively that she hadn’t left the diner for a few minutes. How long would it take to run out back, shoot an unsuspecting victim , and dash back inside? And even follow me out and knock me in the head? Anyone at the diner easily could have done it. But there was the fact that she was possibly the only one who knew he was supposed to be out there. Unless he had a whole bevy of secret girlfriends.
    “So you can say for sure that she never went outside?” John searched my face as if he could see the questions running through my mind.
    I reluctantly shook my head. “Not positively.”
    “Well, then, don’t expect me to make you any promises. I will do what is necessary to bring a killer to justice. But I will not harm any innocent bystanders if I can help it.”
    It wasn’t the promise I wanted, but I had to be content with that.
    *****
    “Reporting for duty,” I said as I breezed into the kitchen. Getting rid of Debbie’s phone yesterday had done a lot to lighten my burden of responsibility. If I could keep Lisa out of jail and figure out how to solve Carly’s problems, I’d be batting a thousand.
    Carly smiled at me. “Just in time.” She wiped her hands on her apron as she went to the large refrigerator for more ingredients. Whatever she was cooking, the aroma was delicious. Alice nodded to me from the stove. Funny how well they were working together now when Alice and Harvey had only about a week left on their agreement to help out.
    “You should bottle that smell,” I told them as I got my own apron and checked the pocket. Yes, my order pad and pencil were there. I was ready for business.
    Carly grinned. “If only we could figure out how.”
    I was glad to see her smiling. She’d told me last night on the phone that the funeral had been therapeutic for her in a way. And that with God’s help she was closer to figuring things out. I’d been praying ever since that God would work it out. He was so much better at handling things than I was.
    “Anything I need to know before I go out there?” I asked.
    She shrugged. “ Harvey ’s seating folks, and Susan and Marco have their hands full. Debbie called and said she’s under the weather.” She sent me a questioning look, and I shrugged. I’d told Carly the whole thing on the phone last night. And I didn’t know anything new.
    I pushed the swinging door and was immersed in the hubbub made by happy diners. I waved to Harvey to let him know my section of tables could be put into use and headed to the menu stand. The next couple of hours passed in a blur. I had the fleeting reflection that this job wasn’t so bad. Hard, but interesting. Mostly hard, though. My thoughts were scattered when a familiar voice trumpeted my name.
    I looked up.
    “Hey, Miss Lady, how much longer are you chained to that apron?” Jolene wended her way through a maze of tables to me, conversing the entire way. Presumably with me, but loudly enough for it to be a community conversation. “I came to tell you bye-bye.”
    “Have a seat, Jolene,” I murmured, in the hopes she would follow my example and talk more quietly. “Let me bring you a glass of tea.”
    I left a menu on the table and went to the counter. I returned with her tea. “Can I get you anything to eat?”
    “Nah, s weetie. Thanks, but I ate a late breakfast at the hotel. I just thought you and me might have a little heart - to - heart before I head out.”
    “I can’t leave, but I can take a break for a few minutes. Let me clear it with Harvey .” I went to his station and explained that I would be on break for the next ten minutes, grabbed myself a glass of tea, and went back to sit with Jolene.
    “So, you’re heading out, huh? Where to?”
    “You know, girl, I been thinking about that a lot. I ain’t had what you might call roots since I was a little kid in pigtails. Now I got this money, compliments of Jimmy-boy, God rest his soul, and I think I might just make a down payment on a little house somewheres. My granny’s place in Texas comes to mind. I ’ magine her old house is tore down, but I b’lieve I could find me