Free A Chili Death: A Classic Diner Mystery by Jessica Beck

lady?”
    “I inherited it from my grandfather,” I said proudly.
    “You bet you did.”  He parked the truck out front of the shop, and the two of us walked in together.
    “Moose, what’s the big idea?” Bob asked as he came out of his office.
    “What do you mean?” my grandfather asked.  Had Francie already talked to him about our line of questioning?  We were counting on hitting them all by surprise, and I might have underestimated the power of our local grapevine.
    “How am I going to get any customers if that wreck of yours is parked out front?” he asked with a broad grin.
    Moose said, “Are you kidding?  You should pay me to park in front of your shop.”
    “How do you see it that way?” Bob asked.  He’d recently lost a ton of weight by easing off the fast food and walking during his lunch breaks, and the man looked ten years younger these days.
    “Think of it this way.  If it looks as though you can keep my truck running, you can do anything,” Moose said proudly.
    “At least let me paint it,” Bob said.
    “What, and ruin its charm?  No thank you.”
    “I give up,” Bob said as he threw his hands up in the air.  “If you’re not here about the truck, what can I do for you?”
    “We’re trying to find out who killed that weasel Victoria found in our freezer,” he said bluntly.  I was going to have to have another talk with my grandfather about who was really leading this investigation.
    “I heard about that,” Bob said as he nodded.  “So, you’re trying to earn your junior crime buster Boy Scout merit badge, is that it?”
    “Do you blame us?” I asked.
    “No, I guess I don’t.  Sorry, but I can’t help you.”
    “But you had as much reason as we did to want to stop the man, didn’t you?” I asked.
    “Victoria, I don’t need this particular piece of land to work on cars.  I could set up somewhere else in a week if I had to.  Folks come for my service, not my surroundings.”
    “Come on, don’t kid a kidder,” Moose said.  As he swept his arm around the place, he said, “Even relocating this stuff doesn’t come cheap, and besides, I’ve never known you to back down from a fight in your life.”
    “I could say the same about you,” Bob said as he stared at Moose.
    “What, do you think I did it?” my grandfather asked.
    “No more than I did,” he said.
    “Where were you when he was killed?” Moose asked.
    “I didn’t know they had a time of death yet.  Doesn’t being stuffed in a freezer kind of throw off those forensics people?”
    “How do you know about that?” I asked.
    “Hey, I watch television.  You can’t turn the channel without hitting one of those crime shows these days.”
    “Unfortunately, this isn’t fiction,” Moose said.
    “I know that, but my point’s still a fair one.”
    It was time to fess up to what had happened.  “We left the back door unlocked by accident, and Greg and I were eating an early dinner when it had to have happened.  Our closest guess is between five and five thirty.”
    “Wow, that’s pretty unfortunate,” Bob said with a frown.
    “So, what’s your alibi?” Moose asked again.
    “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” Bob said with an expression that told me he wasn’t kidding.
    “I just told you.  I was out front eating with Greg,” I said.
    “I wasn’t talking to you,” he answered, never taking his eyes off of Moose.
    “I was in my woodworking shop,” Moose said.
    “Alone?” Bob asked.
    “Sure, I was by myself, but Martha must have heard me using my table saw.”
    “So, you just have your wife to vouch for you,” Bob said.  “I wish I had even that much.  It figures.  The one time I slip out of the shop to have a little fun, it bites me in the rear.”
    “Where were you?” I asked.
    “I slipped over to Hickory to see an early movie,” he admitted.  “They’re cheaper if you go before six.”
    “Can anyone vouch for that?” Moose asked.
    “I wish.  I got