Patriot's Passing: Hawg Heaven Cozy Culinary Mysteries, Book 1 Page 6

  Several customers sitting at the counter jumped when the door slammed open, admitting the man, and most turned immediately back to their lunches, but a handful eyed the rough-looking character warily. He strolled over to a slim, hipster traveler at the counter and tapped him on the shoulder, none-too-gently. The young man turned around and regarded the man with interest.

  “What can I do for ya, buddy?” he asked genially, wiping a bit of barbeque sauce from his well-trimmed goatee.

  “I’m sittin’ there,” the biker growled, giving the hipster’s shoulder a little shove.

  The young man, clearly not stupid, nodded in his same friendly manner.

  “No problem, dude. I’m almost finished with my lunch, and I’ll be happy to give you my spot,” he smiled, then turned to go back to eating.

  “Now!” the biker thundered, garnering the attention of everyone who wasn’t already watching.

  “Hey!” Rossalyn yelled, hastily giving a customer his change, then rushing over to the man who was harassing the hipster. “What do you think you’re doing?” she challenged the biker, her eyes flashing fire.

  “It’s okay,” the young man at the counter held up his hands. “I’ll just go now, and…”

  “The heck you will,” Rossie interrupted him, glaring at the biker. “You,” she jabbed a finger at the dangerous-looking stranger. “You either get in line and act like a civilized human being, or you get the heck out of my café,” she ordered, her chin jutting forward in anger.

  The biker snickered, then bent down to put his face inches from hers.

  “You got any idea who you’re dealing with, sweetheart?” he growled, a sinister smile on his face.

  “Looks to me like I’m dealing with an overgrown bully who doesn’t have any manners,” she didn’t budge an inch.

  “I could snap you like a twig,” he observed, backing up a bit.

  “Don’t make me bring out what I’ve got under the counter,” Rossie threatened.

  “Well ain’t you a spunky lil thing,” the biker mocked her.

  “You don’t want to test me,” she shot back, adrenaline surging through her.

  Every customer in the shop was absorbed in the conflict, and those who were on the patio had gathered around the side door.

  “You see these folks? These hardworking folks who are just here on their lunch hour to get a decent meal? I’m willing to bet that they’d back me up if I wanted to get you out of here,” Rossalyn gestured to the roomful of customers. She had no idea whether any of them, aside from the friendly hipster, would lift a finger to help her, but the biker didn’t know that.

  “In fact, I’m not going to give you the option of getting back in line. I refuse to serve you. You need to get out of here right now, and don’t come back.”

  The biker regarded her curiously, reminding her of a giant grizzly who was trying to decide whether or not she’d have enough meat on her to make her worth eating.

  “You got more chops than sense, little girl, but you don’t back down,” he remarked, one corner of his mouth turning up in a dark smile. “Enjoy your lunch,” he growled, giving the hipster another shove, nearly knocking him off of the stool, then he turned and left.

  A traveler at the end of the counter started clapping, and the rest of the place followed suit as there was a collective breath of relief expelled. Rossalyn took a deep breath and smiled, waving at her supporters.

  “Well, there you have it, folks. Hawg Heaven, where the food is good and the entertainment is free,” she gave a rueful laugh. “And for grace and class under pressure, this man’s lunch is on the house,” she reached over and shook the hipster’s hand.

  “Ain’t no need, ma’am, I got his lunch,” a woman sitting two stools down waved a twenty above her head.

  “I’ll get in on that too,” the man sitting next to him nodded and clapped him on the back.

  What could have ended very badly had ended up inspiring her customers to do a good deed. Rossalyn was more than relieved that the man had left without incident, because the truth of the matter was that the only thing she had under her counter were some baskets of crayons for the kids menus. José’s relief was evident as he gazed at her from behind the window, and he batted at the order bell, saying, “Order up!”

  The rest of the day passed without incident, and the dinner hour, while not nearly as busy as lunch had been, was enough to keep Rossalyn and José on their toes. Exhausted at the end of a very successful day, the daring duo collapsed onto barstools, attacking their plates of food with gusto.

  “Well, José, if every day is like today, I think we’re going to do very well here,” Rossie said, enjoying a forkful of potato salad.

  “Yes, Miss Rossalyn. People like your food,” he nodded, taking a huge bite out of his pulled pork sandwich.

  “It’s your cooking,” she reminded him with a smile. “But we do make a great team.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So, do you know who the biker guy was?” she asked, sobering.

  “He and his friends, they come to town sometimes. I don’t think they live here, but they come around sometimes,” he shrugged. “Most people just leave them alone. I don’t know if they’re good or bad. You didn’t leave him alone… it could be bad, Miss Rossalyn,” José regarded her gravely.

  “We’ll just cross that bridge when we come to it. Maybe he just won’t come back.”

  “Maybe,” he replied quietly, dropping his eyes to his food.

  They finished their meals in companionable silence, both tired and lost in their own thoughts.

  “Should I do the dishes before I go?” José asked, taking their plates to the kitchen.

  “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll clean up. I have to stick around and deal with today’s receipts anyhow. Thanks, José, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Yes, Miss Rossalyn. Please be careful.”

  “I will,” she assured the earnest young man, touched at his concern.

  Rossalyn finished the dishes in no time, and whizzed right through tallying up the day’s receipts, pleased to see that she’d made a good profit, even after expenses. If things continued to go the way that they had today, she’d actually be able to make a living with this business, a thought which filled her with hope.

  She had a thick envelope of cash that she debated about leaving in the safe, so that she could send José to the bank with it in the morning, but she eventually decided to just take it with her so that she could deposit it at the automatic deposit drop at the bank on her way home. If they were busy in the morning, she couldn’t afford to have José out of the store, so taking care of the deposit now would be more efficient, and she wouldn’t even have to leave her car.

  Tucking the bundle of money into her purse and zipping it shut, she locked the door behind her and headed toward her car at the far end of the parking lot. When she looked up from pulling her keys out of her pocket, she noticed a large figure leaning up against her car. Hyper-conscious of the large sum of money in her purse, Rossalyn’s brain whirred with possible courses of action that she could take. If she ran back to the building and tried to undo the lock, whoever it was could overtake her before she could get inside. If she tried to pull out her cellphone and call the police, same thing. Unfortunately, the only course of action that seemed to be open to her was to confront whoever it was. If she lost her day’s earnings, she lost them, and would be wiser the next time. With a sigh, and a rush of adrenaline, she gritted her teeth and headed for her car at a fast walk.

  The biker who had caused a scene earlier was leaning on the driver’s side door of her car, clearly waiting for her.

  “What do you want now,” she asked, her teeth clenched in anger.

  “Well, well, well, that ain’t very hospitable of ya,” the biker drawled, studying her while chewing on a toothpick.

  “Well, you trying to ruin my business by threatening my customers and acting like a Neanderthal wasn’t exactly hospitable either,” she shot back, t
ired and irritated.

  “You dressed the place up like a biker bar, but bikers ain’t welcome?”

  “Hungry bikers who can behave themselves are more than welcome. Look, what do you want? I’ve had a long day and I’d really like you to get off of my car so that I can get out of here,” she sighed.

  “I’d hate to see some unruly folks comin’ in and bustin’ up the place,” the biker commented, not looking at her.

  “That a threat?” Rossalyn’s eyes narrowed to slits. Her temper was hard to arouse, but this man seemed to have a knack for it.

  “Saw your flag displayed in there, was your dad a vet?” he asked, ignoring her question.

  “That’s none of your business,” she snapped, her eyes unexpectedly filling with tears at the thought of Will and his empty casket.

  “Well that hit a nerve,” he looked at her carefully, raising an eyebrow. “It wasn’t Daddy after all, was it? Boyfriend? Husband?”

  She stared at him with utter contempt, not saying a word.

  “I was in Iraq,” he said quietly. “Messed me up bad for a while. Still ain’t over it,” he stepped away from the car, still looking at her.

  “Whoever it was… I’m thankful for their service,” he backed away, headed toward the motorcycle that was parked on the other side of her car.

  Rossalyn’s hands were shaking as she unlocked her door, and she willed the tears that were trembling on the edge of her lashes to go away, hearing the explosive rumbling of the engine starting beside her. The biker pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road, not even glancing in her direction, and she leaned her head on the steering wheel and had a good cry before driving to the bank and then home, where Ryan was waiting.

  CHAPTER TEN

  * * *

  Ryan woke up early and begged to accompany his mother to Hawg Heaven, wanting to have one of José’s legendary breakfasts before school. Delighted to have some time to spend with her son, Rossalyn agreed, impressed that she hadn’t had to wake him up. Business at the café was booming, with locals and travelers alike giving the place rave reviews. There hadn’t been any other negative incidents since the first day, and mother and son were both settling into their new community quite nicely.

  Rossalyn pulled into her parking space and she and Ryan got out, heading straight for the front door in the frosty morning. Fall was giving way to winter, and she wouldn’t be surprised to see snow falling within a few weeks. As she fumbled with the lock, she heard a sound coming from the side of the building.

  “You go inside and wait for José,” she murmured to Ryan, and headed for the source of the sound.

  The biker from her first week was out on the patio, reaching up to one of the overhead beams. He was still dressed in a sleeveless shirt and vest, despite the morning chill, and had a bandana wrapped around his head.

  “What are you doing here?” Rossie crossed her arms, feeling cold.

  “When I drove by last night, one of your patio lights was out. I brought you a bulb,” he held it up.

  “Why?”

  “Whaddya mean, why? I had a bulb, you needed one, here it is,” the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile and he shrugged.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she stared at him, untrusting.

  “Nope,” he agreed, still working on the light.

  “Thanks,” she said, not knowing what to think.

  “No problem,” was the distracted reply, as he put the new bulb in. “Go inside and flip the switch, see if it fixed the problem,” he instructed, not looking at her.

  “Okay.”

  Rossalyn went inside, frowning. She couldn’t figure the big biker out. He’d seemed hostile, a troublemaker, and now he was being nice. What had happened?

  “You okay, Mom?” Ryan called out from the kitchen, where he and José had started on breakfast.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” she nodded, heading for the outdoor light panel and flipping the switch. She glanced out the door, where the biker gave her a thumbs up, then headed toward his motorcycle, tossing the old bulb into the dumpster on his way by.

  Ryan finished his breakfast and left for school just as the morning rush was starting, and Rossalyn put the strange encounter with the biker out of her mind, not thinking of it again until around roughly two o’clock that afternoon. The lot on which Hawg Heaven sat, was on the main street through town, and was bordered on the backside by a highway. The land behind her place was a huge, grassy field with a few trees dotting the landscape, which was nice, because it buffered the sound of semis and other traffic on the highway.

  There seemed to be something going on just off of the highway, and in the afternoon a swarm of police cars, an ambulance and a firetruck gathered on the far back edge of the Hawg Heaven lot. Rossalyn figured that a car must’ve gone off of the road, because most of the activity seemed to be centered among a clump of trees about halfway between her place and the highway. When a police car pulled into her parking lot, however, she had the sinking feeling that the cops weren’t there just to get a good meal.

  “Hi, can I help you?” she asked the two sheriff’s deputies, with a smile.

  “You the owner?” one of them, the shorter one with a blond crewcut, asked.

  “Yes, I am,” she nodded. “Is something wrong?”

  “What’s your name, ma’am?” the other deputy, a tall, dark and not-so-handsome man, asked.

  “Rossalyn. Rossalyn Channing. What’s going on?”

  The blond one addressed her again. “There’s been an incident that we’re investigating. We’re going to be taking a look around your property today, and would appreciate it if you’d keep your staff and customers away from the outside of the building and the rest of the lot.”

  “No problem,” Rossie nodded. “Is there anything that I can do to help?”

  “Where were you last night after about eight o’clock?” the dark-haired deputy asked.

  “I was just leaving here, then I went to the bank, made a deposit, and went home.”

  “Was anyone with you? What about your staff?”

  “The only other person who works here besides me is my cook, José. He left around seven-thirty. My son was here all evening with me, and was with me when I left. What’s this all about?”

  “What’s José’s last name?”

  “Lopez. He’s in the kitchen if you need to speak with him. Is everything okay?”

  “I’d like to have a word with him,” the blond cop nodded, heading toward the kitchen door.

  “Have you seen anyone suspicious around here, either last night or this morning?” the dark-haired deputy asked when his partner left.

  Rossalyn shook her head. “No, not that I can think of, but being this close to the highway, there are people in and out of here all the time.”

  “I noticed that you don’t have any security cameras on the property. You might want to get some,” the cop advised.

  “I didn’t think I’d need anything like that for a place this small. Is there something that I should be worried about?”

  “It’s not about the size, it’s about the traffic that comes through here,” he replied, ignoring her question, the flag above the cash register catching his eye. “We’ll be in touch.”

  Ryan came bursting in the front door a couple of hours later.

  “Mom, did you hear about the dead woman? Did you see the body? They said it was right here somewhere,” he peppered Rossalyn with questions, wide-eyed and breathless.

  “Dead woman? Body? Ryan, what are you talking about?” she came out from behind the counter, thankful that there were no customers in the café at present.

  “Kelsey’s cousin is an EMT, and he told her mom that the police found a body in our back field. They’re still out there looking for clues and stuff,” he grabbed her hand and dragged her outside, showing her the police officers and regular citizens who were currently walking carefully all over the property.

  Rossalyn’s heart sped up.

  “Do the
y know how she died? Was he hit by a car or something?” she asked, astounded that she’d had to find out the information from her thirteen-year-old son.

  “I don’t know, but what if there’s a serial killer on the loose or something?”

  “Somebody has been watching too many movies,” Rossie commented dryly, wanting to downplay the incident, whatever the circumstances might be. “More people go out for a walk and have heart attacks than get killed by a random killer, kiddo.”

  “Then why are all these cops out here looking for clues?” he challenged, looking at her expectantly.

  “Police officers, they’re called police officers, not cops. Be respectful,” she said absently, watching the activity going on, just yards away from her business.

  “Actually, they’re mostly deputies if you wanna get technical,” Ryan observed.

  “Sheriff! We got something!” a voice exclaimed from close by. Rossalyn followed it and saw a deputy peering into the café’s dumpster, as several law enforcement personnel descended on the scene.