Free A Burned Out Baker: Classic Diner Mystery #7 (The Classic Diner Mysteries) by Jessica Beck Page B

this time? Every time I leave that man alone, he seems to have a knack for getting himself into trouble.”
    “There was a fire, Susan,” Moose said.
    Susan looked at my grandfather as though he were an idiot. “And it will still be going until I get everything burned that I want to get rid of,” she said as she pointed to the blaze. “What’s that got to do with my boyfriend?”
    “I don’t mean here,” Moose said. “I’m talking about at the bakery.”
    Susan frowned. “I imagine that could happen occasionally when you’re dealing with ovens and high temperatures,” she said, clearly troubled by the news. “I should call Barry and make sure that he’s okay.”
    That was the second time it had happened that day. She reached for her cell phone, but I stopped her. “You’re not going to be able to reach him. I’m afraid that he didn’t make it.”
    Susan studied me with a puzzled expression on her face, and then she turned to Moose for confirmation. “Is it true?”
    “I’m sorry, but it is,” my grandfather said, and Susan Proctor collapsed where she stood.
    Moose grabbed her and kept her from hitting the ground as her voice filled the air with loud cries and sobs. There was obviously no use trying to talk to her at that point. “Let’s get you inside,” Moose said as he half led and half carried her to the house. There was a sofa placed just inside to take full advantage of the broad windows, and my grandfather eased her down onto it. She’d have a tough time cleaning out the smoky smell from the couch where she touched it, but I knew that wasn’t an issue at the moment.
    “What happened to him?” she asked between sobs as she looked at us in turn.
    “We don’t know the entire story yet,” I said.
    “But it was arson,” Moose added, something I hadn’t thought she’d needed to hear yet.
    “Are you saying that someone killed him on purpose?” she wailed, and then she was off on another set of hysterics.
    “Is there anybody we can call for you?” I asked her softly. The woman was falling apart before our very eyes.
    “My…my…sister,” Susan said shakily.
    I knew Elizabeth, but I didn’t know her phone number. “What’s her number?”
    Susan handed me her phone as she said, “Just hit 3 on the speed dial.”
    I did so, and Elizabeth came on the line. “Hey, it’s Victoria Nelson. Your sister needs you.”
    “I’m almost there,” Elizabeth said. “I just heard what happened. I was going to call her and tell her over the phone, but I didn’t want her alone when she found out. Are you there with her now?”
    “Yes, my grandfather and I came by,” I said, conveniently neglecting to mention that we’d come there to interrogate her.
    “Bless you. Give me two minutes and I’ll be there.”
    After I hung up, I said, “She’ll be here in two minutes.”
    “Victoria, can you stay with her until Elizabeth gets here?”
    “Sure,” I said, puzzled by my grandfather’s request. “What are you going to do?”
    “I have to see about that fire,” he said.
    “Just let it burn,” Susan whimpered.
    “Victoria, we can’t take a chance of letting it burn out of control,” Moose said as he tried to disengage from her grip.
    Susan wasn’t having it, though. “Moose, you can’t leave me.”
    My grandfather looked unhappy about it, but he turned to me and said, “If I can’t do it, you need to go put out that fire yourself.”
    It took me a second to realize that Moose wasn’t just playing fire warden and that he wasn’t worried about the fire itself. He was concerned that what might be evidence was burning up right in front of us!
    “I’m on it,” I said as I stood and headed for the door.
    “Don’t go, either. I need you both!” Susan shouted.
    “You’ll be fine,” Moose said. “Go,” he said to me, and he didn’t have to tell me again.
    There was a garden hose near the barrel, and I opened the nozzle as I pointed it toward the fire.
    Nothing came out.
    I