Poisoned Prose (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

Grumpy’s before the tourists filled every booth and counter seat.
    Dixie Weaver, the diner’s waitress and proprietor, was a dwarf. She zipped around the restaurant on a pair of roller skates with purple wheels. Her clothes came from the junior’s department at Walmart, and she had a little girl’s love of accessories and makeup. As a result, she usually wore too much of both, but no one dared comment on her fashion sense for fear of being barred from the diner, which would be a serious punishment as Grumpy made the best breakfasts in Oyster Bay. Dixie’s coffee was also legendary. Rich and bold, it fortified both vacationers and locals for a long day.
    Olivia sat at her favorite window booth dreaming of Dixie’s coffee. She craned her head in search of her friend while Haviland mirrored her movement. Olivia knew the poodle was also hoping Dixie would appear soon. After all, breakfast at Grumpy’s meant eggs scrambled with ground beef, and Haviland loved to eat from a platter beneath the table.
    Dixie skated out of the kitchen and spotted them instantly. She waved, and after handing a bottle of syrup to one of the customers at the counter, zipped to the front of the diner. “Do I have news for you!” She planted an affectionate kiss on Haviland’s black nose, put a ceramic mug on the table, and filled it to the brim with her strong, dark brew.
    “Coffee, divine coffee,” Olivia murmured. She stirred in a dollop of cream and took a quick, gratifying sip.
    Dixie slid into the booth next to Haviland and tugged her rainbow-striped kneesocks back into place. She wore a dozen multicolored bracelets on her left arm and a sparkly black wristband on the right. Her hair had been feathered and shellacked into place with half a can of Aqua Net in order to showcase her earrings. Made of turquoise and silver beads, they fell to the top of her shoulders and brushed against the straps of her American Idol tank top.
    “I didn’t know you were a fan of the show. I thought you were all about Andrew Lloyd Webber,” Olivia said, waving her hand to indicate the diner’s decorations. Every inch of available wall space paid homage to the composer.
    “No reality show could hold a candle to Broadway,” Dixie said. “But I love to listen to these kids singin’ their hearts out. The whole thing’s probably rigged, but I don’t care. I sing along with every song. You should hear how my dogs start to howl!” She laughed and rubbed Haviland behind the ears. “I know you’re waitin’ on me, Captain, so I’ll put your order in and then come back with my big news.”
    Olivia shook her head. “You’re such a tease.”
    “Why do you think Grumpy and I are still married after all this time?” Dixie grinned saucily. “You wanna order or just let the chef fix you somethin’ special?”
    “I’ll leave my meal in Grumpy’s capable hands,” Olivia said. “And I’d try to worm more info from you, since you’re obviously bursting to tell me something juicy, but the woman at the
Cats
booth has her placemat raised in the air like it’s a white flag.”
    Dixie scowled. “She’d better be surrenderin’. That harpy has run me ragged. She took one sip of water and then asked me for a refill. Demanded crisp bacon and then told me it was too crunchy to eat. Ordered white toast and then wanted to know why I didn’t serve her wheat. Bet she’ll leave me a crap tip too.” She stood and gave her tank top an irritated tug. “She’s lucky I’m not the type of waitress who spits in people’s food.”
    She skated off, leaving Olivia to read the
Gazette
. Haviland looked out the window and seemed perfectly content to watch the passersby.
    The paper was filled with short articles about the day’s boat race and included numerous photographs of previous winners and their vessels. The regatta had increased in size each year, and because local merchants contributed to the cash prizes, the competition had grown fiercer than ever. So many entrants had tried to circumvent the construction rules that each craft had to be vetted by a special committee within twenty-four hours of the race.
    This event was almost as well attended as the actual race and hundreds of bets were placed the moment the boats were unveiled. Of course, the authorities couldn’t openly condone gambling, but Chief Rawlings and the rest of the force had chosen to pretend that they didn’t know about the money exchanging hands on the docks, in the bars, and in the