Free Deep-Fried Homicide (The Laurel Falls Mysteries Book 1) by Patricia Lee Macomber

elbow on the counter and letting his face get way too close to hers. “Now, Rachel, you know I can’t talk about an ongoing case. You’re a wonderful waitress. Why don’t you stick to that, hm?”
    He winked at her, then stood up and turned away in one swift movement. The deputies trailed him out the door, Billy spinning at the last moment to wave at her.
    Rachel, stunned into silence, waved back absently. Her eyes had gone dark and her mouth seemed to be caught in the act of forming some word or other.
    Behind her, Rick had begun to laugh.
    She reeled on him, scalding him with her gaze. “Shut up, you.”
    She turned her back on him then, scanning the diner. There was only one customer left, sitting at the corner booth and nearly done. Only at that moment did it dawn on Rachel that she hadn’t spoken to Macy since she had turned the sign over. It also occurred to her that she was starving, so she stepped to the counter and grabbed a coffee cup.
    The coffee was nearly gone and Rachel had absolutely no snobbery when it came to the java. Fresh, old, strong, weak, it didn’t matter. She’d drink it until it was gone and be grateful for the buzz. She poured herself a full cup and set the pot back on the brewer. She should eat a full lunch, but darned if that pie hadn’t smelled just so good. She cut herself a piece of the apple and sat down at the counter, sensing the approach of her best friend.
    “That looks really good,” Macy said over her shoulder. “I think I’ll join you.”
    Before long, all three ladies were sitting shoulder to shoulder at the counter, nibbling pie and sucking on coffee. Like birds on a wire, focused entirely on their food and nothing else, oblivious to the amused glances of Logan and Rick. Only the bell drew their attentions away from the pie and they turned in unison to see who had interrupted their break.
    Not recognizing the man, Rachel choked down the last bite of pie in a too-large chunk and slid off her stool. She met him at the door, menu in hand and a smile on her slightly crumbed face. “Welcome to Rick’s,” she said. “You can sit any place that makes you feel comfortable.”
    “I’m not here to eat, miss.” His voice was as impeccably smooth as his suit. “I’d like to speak to Rick Armstrong.”
    Rachel swallowed, sized the guy up during a feint to the right as she slipped the menu back into its holder. “Can I ask your name?”
    “Hey, Drew!” Rick bellowed, coming out of the kitchen as he wiped his hands on his apron. His face was split with a huge smile and his eyes sparkled.
    Any pretense at threat dropped away from the strange man’s face and Rachel’s stress melted away along with it.
    “Hiya, Rick.” He thrust his hand out and the men shared a good, strong handshake. “Is there someplace we can talk in private?”
    Rick pocketed his hands and frowned. “We’re all family here. Anything you can say to me, you can say to them.”
    Drew nodded slowly, likewise pocketing his hands and ignoring the rest of the people in the diner. “All right, then. I don’t know how you got the information you brought me and I don’t care…”
    “Do you have the results?”
    Drew nodded and frowned again. “I do. But I can’t tell you what they are.”
    Rick pulled a face and took a defensive stance with his arms folded over his chest and his jaw drawn back. “You couldn’t find a match?”
    “Oh, I found a match. But I can’t tell you who it is. And I can’t tell you why I can’t tell you. You catching my drift, bud?”
    Rick’s jaw set even harder and his eyes narrowed. “What is it, Drew? Witness protection? Open case on a major crime? You know I’ve got the clearance – still – to know what’s going on.”
    “You do not. Not for this. I’ll tell you to drop this thing. Don’t come to me with anything else. I can’t help you. Don’t keep sticking your nose into it. It would be bad for your health, if you catch my drift.”
    “Huh.” Rick