of
information. Liz had been so busy getting tonight’s dinner ready for the guests
who were staying in the cottages she hadn’t taken time for lunch.
One of Gertie’s hamburgers
and a chocolate malted milk will be perfect. Think I better pass on the onion
rings. At my age I can only justify so many calories. I may be reasonably tall,
and some might say I have an hourglass figure for a middle-aged woman, but if I
push it the sand will all slide downhill, and before long I’ll resemble an
unattractive pear rather than an hourglass.
She found a parking place
half a black from the diner, rolled the windows down, and told Winston to watch
the van while she was gone. Liz looked in the rearview mirror to see if she
needed to put some more lipstick on. The face reflected in the mirror was still
a very attractive one, even if she was middle-aged. Large green eyes looked
back at her set in a creamy complexion which was surrounded by auburn hair cut
short, emphasizing her heart-shaped face. She brushed on some lipstick and
walked to Gertie’s.
Even though it was
mid-afternoon, the diner was filled with customers. Gertie’s was such a
well-known institution that people came from as far away as San Francisco for a
hamburger and one of her signature malted milks. Liz suspected a lot of them
came just to see Gertie, a throwback to the 60’s with her bottle blond beehive
hairdo, five-inch stilettos, and the bubbles she constantly blew with her pink
bubblegum. She had a heart of gold, and she never forgot a face. She greeted
everyone as if they were a long lost friend, and to Gertie each and every one
was.
Liz sat down in a booth at
the back of the diner, happy to have found a table in the crowded diner. A
moment later Gertie tottered over. Liz always worried that one of these days
Gertie was going to fall down. Privately Liz thought Gertie was getting a
little long in the tooth to wear such high heels. Gertie’s age was a constant
source of speculation in the small town, but she guarded it as fiercely as if
she was protecting the crown jewels. In her mind she was still twenty-one, but
her body belied it by a good fifty years. No one had the courage to tell Gertie
she was as dated as her diner, and that the 1960’s were long gone. Now she’d
become what was commonly called “retro” and in some circles, quite in vogue.
“So, honey, what’s goin’
on out at the spa these days?” Gertie asked as she walked over to Liz’s table,
cracking a big wad of pink bubblegum as she spoke.
“Busy as usual. The
article that was in the San Francisco paper sure didn’t hurt and then with
Brandy Boy getting all the national publicity when he kept me from being
murdered, we’re filled up for the next few months.”
“Glad to hear it. Any
business that does well in Red Cedar helps everybody else. So, how are things
goin’ with Leroy’s murder? Heard yer’ helpin’ Seth. I was surprised to hear
that. Didn’t think you liked him very much. Even so, don’t think he was the one
responsible for Leroy’s murder.”
“Gertie, how do you find
out these things? You never fail to amaze me. Yes, I am helping him, and like
you, I don’t think he did it. He’s never been my favorite person, but I’d hate
to see an innocent man charged with a murder he didn’t commit.”
“Yeah. Know what you
mean.” She was talking to Liz but staring at a man sitting in a booth on the
other side of the diner.
“Gertie, why are you
looking at that man? I don’t think I’ve seen him in town before.”
“Don’t know. Somethin’
about him ain’t right. Calls himself Anton. I heard he was the one who was
seein’ Leroy’s ex-wife. I’ve only seen him around here for the last few months.
Hear he’s that tarot card reader’s brother. The one who goes by the name of
Madame Dika. I mean, there’s a made-up name if I’ve ever heard one. Hope he
don’t make a habit of hangin’ out here.”
Liz took a long look at
him. She could definitely
information. Liz had been so busy getting tonight’s dinner ready for the guests
who were staying in the cottages she hadn’t taken time for lunch.
One of Gertie’s hamburgers
and a chocolate malted milk will be perfect. Think I better pass on the onion
rings. At my age I can only justify so many calories. I may be reasonably tall,
and some might say I have an hourglass figure for a middle-aged woman, but if I
push it the sand will all slide downhill, and before long I’ll resemble an
unattractive pear rather than an hourglass.
She found a parking place
half a black from the diner, rolled the windows down, and told Winston to watch
the van while she was gone. Liz looked in the rearview mirror to see if she
needed to put some more lipstick on. The face reflected in the mirror was still
a very attractive one, even if she was middle-aged. Large green eyes looked
back at her set in a creamy complexion which was surrounded by auburn hair cut
short, emphasizing her heart-shaped face. She brushed on some lipstick and
walked to Gertie’s.
Even though it was
mid-afternoon, the diner was filled with customers. Gertie’s was such a
well-known institution that people came from as far away as San Francisco for a
hamburger and one of her signature malted milks. Liz suspected a lot of them
came just to see Gertie, a throwback to the 60’s with her bottle blond beehive
hairdo, five-inch stilettos, and the bubbles she constantly blew with her pink
bubblegum. She had a heart of gold, and she never forgot a face. She greeted
everyone as if they were a long lost friend, and to Gertie each and every one
was.
Liz sat down in a booth at
the back of the diner, happy to have found a table in the crowded diner. A
moment later Gertie tottered over. Liz always worried that one of these days
Gertie was going to fall down. Privately Liz thought Gertie was getting a
little long in the tooth to wear such high heels. Gertie’s age was a constant
source of speculation in the small town, but she guarded it as fiercely as if
she was protecting the crown jewels. In her mind she was still twenty-one, but
her body belied it by a good fifty years. No one had the courage to tell Gertie
she was as dated as her diner, and that the 1960’s were long gone. Now she’d
become what was commonly called “retro” and in some circles, quite in vogue.
“So, honey, what’s goin’
on out at the spa these days?” Gertie asked as she walked over to Liz’s table,
cracking a big wad of pink bubblegum as she spoke.
“Busy as usual. The
article that was in the San Francisco paper sure didn’t hurt and then with
Brandy Boy getting all the national publicity when he kept me from being
murdered, we’re filled up for the next few months.”
“Glad to hear it. Any
business that does well in Red Cedar helps everybody else. So, how are things
goin’ with Leroy’s murder? Heard yer’ helpin’ Seth. I was surprised to hear
that. Didn’t think you liked him very much. Even so, don’t think he was the one
responsible for Leroy’s murder.”
“Gertie, how do you find
out these things? You never fail to amaze me. Yes, I am helping him, and like
you, I don’t think he did it. He’s never been my favorite person, but I’d hate
to see an innocent man charged with a murder he didn’t commit.”
“Yeah. Know what you
mean.” She was talking to Liz but staring at a man sitting in a booth on the
other side of the diner.
“Gertie, why are you
looking at that man? I don’t think I’ve seen him in town before.”
“Don’t know. Somethin’
about him ain’t right. Calls himself Anton. I heard he was the one who was
seein’ Leroy’s ex-wife. I’ve only seen him around here for the last few months.
Hear he’s that tarot card reader’s brother. The one who goes by the name of
Madame Dika. I mean, there’s a made-up name if I’ve ever heard one. Hope he
don’t make a habit of hangin’ out here.”
Liz took a long look at
him. She could definitely
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