A Peachy Plan Read online

  Sam considered Momma Peach's words. “Well, I'll be...so that's it...well, it would have to be. Why else is Able delaying?”

  “Mr. Sam, you're a good man and I know you'll keep this conversation between us and not pressure Able, right?”

  “Huh? Oh, sure,” Sam promised. “I may grumble, but I wouldn't dare pressure Able into proposing. I couldn't imagine anyone pressuring me into marrying Millie.” He gave Momma Peach a sly look.

  Momma Peach smiled and then wiped her nose. “Come on, Mr. Sam, let's get some fresh air. The stink in this here vehicle is enough to gag a trash man.”

  “Yeah, it does smell pretty bad,” Sam agreed and pushed himself out into the wind and the falling snow. Momma Peach joined him. “Well, we might as well get inside.”

  Momma Peach trucked her chin down into her chest to block the icy winds from her face. “Baby, it's freezing out here. I don’t think a small, scared little girl will be running around loose in this snow. She has to be hiding someplace, preferably someplace warm.”

  Sam rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Momma Peach, you don't believe the killer has this child, do you?” he asked staring into Momma Peach's eyes as they trudged toward the door.

  Momma Peach took her hands and tossed the hood connected to the coat covering her body up and over her head. “I wonder if that little girl was abandoned in this little town, Mr. Sam, or if she escaped here instead?”

  “Escaped?”

  Momma Peach nodded. “The Canadian border isn't far away,” she reminded him. “Maybe someone was trying to take her into Canada and she managed to escape?” Momma Peach turned her back to the wind and motioned Sam to face her. “Charlene Readings was strangled to death, Mr. Sam. Charlene Readings was taking care of our missing little girl. If that little baby was dropped off and left here on purpose, why would anyone return and kill poor Charlene Readings?”

  Sam stared at Momma Peach. “Momma Peach, those are very good questions,” he said over the gusting wind. “I never considered those questions. And now that I am, it does make sense that the child could have escaped, not been abandoned in this rural town.”

  “Don't take it to the bank just yet, Mr. Sam, but we might be a few pennies in the right direction,” Momma Peach said. She looked up and down the deserted main street and then focused on the diner. She saw an old woman with long, dark gray hair standing at the front door and staring at her. “That must be Mom,” she told Sam.

  Sam spotted the woman. Then he saw her click off the neon 'Open' sign and vanish before his eyes. “Well, so much for a hot cup of coffee.”

  Momma Peach walked up to the front door, cupped her hands against the glass, and looked inside. The gray-haired woman was walking back toward the kitchen; in a bit of hurry, too. “I see,” Momma Peach said and her eyes studied as much of the diner as she could see in the darkness. She spotted a booth with a plate of half-eaten flapjacks and a small glass of orange juice. She strained her eyes and glimpsed a little pair of blue gloves, too. “I see again,” Momma Peach whispered and motioned for Sam to join her. “Mr. Sam, look,” she said and pointed at the booth.

  Sam pressed his eyes to the glass and found the booth. “Children’s gloves,” he said. “They look just big enough to fit the hand of a small child.”

  “Mr. Sam, wait five minutes and then begin banging on the front door,” Momma Peach said.

  “Where are you going?” Sam asked.

  “Around to the back door. Hopefully, your banging on the door will scare our lost baby right into Momma Peach's arms,” Momma Peach explained and got her short little legs moving away from the front door and down the icy, white sidewalk. “Oh, let it snow, let it snow,” Momma Peach hummed to herself as the winds cut into her face.

  Sam watched Momma Peach make it down the street, look back at him, and then begin making her way around to the back of the buildings. When Momma Peach passed out of sight he turned his attention back to the front door and looked into the diner. The old woman rushed out of the kitchen and headed for the booth but froze when she spotted Sam. Feeling like a deer caught in a headlight, Sam did the first thing that came to mind: he raised his right hand and waved. He decided to play the dumb but friendly tourist. “I saw your sign on,” he called out. “I could really use a cup of coffee.”

  The old woman stared at Sam and then, to Sam's shock, she reached into the pocket of her brown apron and pulled out a gun. “You're not getting her,” she yelled and pointed the gun at the front door.

  Sam did not waste a second. He dove down onto the sidewalk before the old woman could shoot at him. “She thinks I'm the killer,” he said and began crawling down the sidewalk. When he felt safe enough he bolted to his feet and chased after Momma Peach. “That old woman is going to try and shoot Momma Peach,” he said in a frantic voice.

  As Sam made his way down the street Momma Peach navigated a snowy alley. The alley snuck in between the buildings and a sturdy wooden fence way too tall for Momma Peach to see over. “Okay, the only place for my little baby to go is to the left or right if she runs out of the back door,” she said and maneuvered her way to the back door of the diner. She ducked down behind a large green plastic trashcan to wait for Sam to knock on the front windows and set their plan in motion.

  Seconds later, the back door snapped open. Momma Peach peeked over the trashcan, ready to dart out and sweep the poor, sweet, lost child up into a safe, warm hug. Instead, the old woman with gray hair appeared, her eyes wide with fury and a gun in her right hand. The old woman quickly spotted Momma Peach and took aim. “Oh, my,” Momma Peach said in a shaky whisper. “I am in a world of trouble now.”

  Chapter Three

  The old woman took aim at Momma Peach, narrowed her scared eyes, and began to squeeze the trigger. As soon as she did, a snowball came flying out of nowhere and smacked her in the face. “Stay down!” Sam yelled at Momma Peach and then hurled a second snowball at the old woman. The second snowball caught the old woman square in the face and forced her back into the diner.

  Momma Peach watched the woman slam the back door shut. “Oh, Mr. Sam, Mr. Sam,” Momma Peach exclaimed and tried to run to him. She took a few steps and then felt her feet slip on a patch of ice hidden under the snow. “Whoa!”

  Sam saw Momma Peach's legs fly out from under her and then watched her backside land hard on the alley floor. “Momma Peach!” Sam yelled, skidding to a stop. “Are you okay? Stay where you are!”

  Momma Peach looked up and saw Sam's worried face staring down at her with wide, worried eyes. “Oh, Mr. Sam,” she managed to say and then rubbed her bruised tush. “You saved my life. That crazy old woman was going to shoot me.”

  “She thinks we're killed Charlene,” Sam explained and dropped down to his knees to help her up. “Did you hit your head?” he asked and carefully checked the back of Momma Peach's head and then examined her neck.

  “I hurt my pride is all,” Momma Peach promised and rubbed Sam's face with her right glove. “I am fine.”

  “Can you stand up?”

  “I sure can try,” Momma Peach replied.

  “Easy,” Sam begged and helped Momma Peach slowly stand up. “You didn't twist an ankle or hurt your knee did you?” he asked in a concerned voice. Momma Peach was a special woman and if she was hurt Sam would never forgive herself.

  “I am okay,” Momma Peach promised again and rubbed Sam's face again with a warm glove. “You saved me from being filled full of holes.”

  Sam checked Momma Peach over one last time. Satisfied that she was okay, he focused on the back door. “Well, one thing is clear, the missing child is in that diner.”

  Momma Peach rubbed her backside. “Yep,” she said and shook her head. “I don't feel like charging the Alamo, though.”

  Sam grew silent and listened to the winds scream and howl up and down the alley. He was not sure what to do. If he tried to enter the diner the old woman would surely take a few shots at him. If he stood out in the alley, they would both turn into iceberg
s. “The old woman was trying to sneak out of the back, so her car must be close by. If we can find her car we can eliminate her means of escape,” he finally spoke.

  Momma Peach beamed. “You’re a smart man, yes, indeed,” she said and took Sam's hand. “Come on, Mr. Sam.”

  Sam followed Momma Peach up the alley instead of back down and emerged on a side street lined with cozy cottages trailing smoke from their stone chimneys. Each cottage had a truck parked in its driveway. “Good grief,” Sam complained and wiped snow off his shoulders. “I'm in no mood to play 'Pick-A-Number'.”

  “Mr. Sam, go around to the front and keep watch. I'll stand here and watch the alley,” Momma Peach said. “That old woman has to come out sooner or later.”

  Sam hesitated and then hurried to the front sidewalk, keeping Momma Peach in clear sight, and stationed himself. He waved at Momma Peach and then shook his head. Momma Peach waved back and focused back on the alley and waited. After thirty minutes passed and the old lady still had not appeared, Momma Peach waved at Sam to walk back to her. “Mr. Sam,” she said through shivering teeth, “an iceberg is warmer than we are.”

  Sam rubbed his hands together and stomped snow off his boots. “Yeah, we're both pretty frozen,” he agreed and studied the empty alley. “Momma Peach, my guess is that old lady has barricaded herself inside and isn't coming out until Chief Duddles gets here.”

  “My mind was walking around the same park,” Momma Peach nodded, feeling like she might turn into a block of solid ice at any second. “Let's go back to that smelly SUV and warm up a bit.”

  “Maybe my sense of smell has frozen solid,” Sam told Momma Peach as he walked her back to the SUV. As soon as he reached the vehicle, the front door of the diner crept open. Sam did not see it open but he heard the bullet that followed. “Get down, Momma Peach!” he yelled and dived down to the ground and crawled to the back of the SUV. “Momma Peach?”

  “Here!” Momma Peach said, crawling low under the SUV. Despite the icy ground beneath the vehicle, anything besides exposing her backside to another bullet. Sam grabbed her hands and pulled her out. “My, do we ever have a wild west granny on our hands,” she said, breathing hard and brushing snow off the front of her coat. “Mr. Sam, that old granny sure ain't gonna let us get close to our missing baby.”

  Sam began to answer Momma Peach but the sound of a second bullet piercing the front windshield of the SUV made him duck for cover. The safety glass cracked in a spidery pattern but did not shatter. After a couple of minutes passed and no more gunshots rang out, he eased his head around the side of the SUV and spotted the old woman standing in the diner's doorway with her gun ready to fire. “We're not here to hurt anyone, lady!” he yelled.

  “Sure you're not!” the old woman yelled back and fired at Sam again. Sam took cover. “I'm not going to let you take her, do you hear me? You can hit me in the face with snowballs all you want but I got the gun here, and you aren't going to take the child.”

  “Lady, for crying out loud,” Sam hollered. “All we want is to help! The only reason I threw the snowball was so you wouldn’t shoot my friend!”

  “Baby?” Momma Peach yelled. “We're friends with Michelle Chan. Charlene Readings called Michelle for help.” When there was no answer, Momma Peach peeked up over the SUV and saw the woman had lowered her gun. She stood up so she could continue, though she still had to shout a little over the winds. “We've just arrived in town. Thelma Dodge gave us a tow when the SUV you just shot up ran off the road into a ditch. While she was driving me back to town, Chief Duddles called and told her that Charlene Readings was sitting dead in her truck. Michelle is with Chief Duddles and Thelma right now.” Still no response. Momma Peach drew in a deep breath and continued. “Mr. Sam and me, we came looking for the little Chinese girl because we were afraid she might be in danger. Whoever killed Charlene Readings killed her because of the little girl you're protecting.”

  “Please, lady, Momma Peach is telling you the truth,” Sam pleaded. “Do we really look like killers to you?”

  Before the old woman could answer, Chief Duddles came crawling down the road in a police car with red and blue emergency lights flashing. He stopped in front of the diner, opened the driver's side door, and called out, “Mom, put your gun away.”

  “Not with those killers hiding behind that vehicle!”

  Michelle jumped out of the passenger's side door and pointed at the diner. “Lady, you're shooting at two very close friends of mine. Either put your gun down or I'm going to make you put it down!”

  “Do what Detective Chan says, Mom. One person is already dead. We don't need any more killings,” Chief Duddles begged.

  “And make us a pot a coffee pretty please, because I'm frozen stiff,” Momma Peach hollered.

  Amanda Westings, otherwise known around town as Mom, finally lowered her gun. “The man hiding behind that vehicle hit me in the face with two snowballs.”

  “You were going to shoot Momma Peach, lady,” Sam called out. “What was I supposed to do? Hand you a telegram asking you to play nice?”

  “I want that man arrested for assault!” Amanda yelled to Chief Duddles.

  “Assault?” Sam stood up and stepped out from behind the SUV. “Listen, you insane, trigger-happy woman! You were about to shoot an unarmed woman in that alley! You're the one that should be arrested!”

  Momma Peach quickly stepped in front of Sam. “Mom, it's me, Momma Peach. What d’you say we forget this little mishap and go back inside that cozy little diner of yours for a hot pot of coffee and some good flapjacks, huh? I am surely frozen stiff and my belly sure is growling.”

  Amanda Westings shifted her eyes away from Momma Peach and looked at Michelle. Michelle now had her gun drawn. The sight of Michelle told Amanda to cool down or she would pay a very heavy price. “I got the girl to protect.”

  “We know that, and you're doing an excellent job,” Momma Peach reassured her. “Now listen, I guess if I was in your shoes and saw two strange people appear and then found one of them hiding in the alley I might have assumed the worst, too. But I promise I ain't here to harm a soul, okay?”

  The sound of Thelma's tow truck crawling down the street forced Amanda to finally admit to herself that Momma Peach and Sam had no intention on harming the little girl she protected. Chief Duddles, however, turned his attention to Momma Peach and Sam. “So, you two went looking for the missing girl without my permission?” he barked.

  “Oh, give it a rest,” Momma Peach threw her hand at Chief Duddles. “This ain’t Gunsmoke and you're no Marshal Dillon, you short marshmallow. I had enough of your ugly attitude earlier.”

  Chief Duddles snarled up his face. “Listen, lady, I'm the law in this town. You'll do what I say when I say or take a hike. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Take a hike yourself,” Michelle snapped at Chief Duddles. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m making that call to my friend at the FBI. They will be here faster than you can say ‘jurisdiction.’.”

  Chief Duddles' face went blank. “Now hold on a minute,” he said and licked his cold lips. “Listen, we—”

  “No, you listen,” Michelle boldly interrupted. “You're not going to lift a finger to solve Charlene Readings’ murder. You’ve been stalling since we got to the crime scene. Why didn’t you issue an Amber Alert for the little girl? This whole thing is fishy. I can't imagine what kind of case would have been placed in the official books if I hadn't arrived….suicide, maybe? It's clear to anyone with common sense that your main focus is on closing this case as quietly as possible and then sweeping it under the rug. Well, I'm not going to let that happen. An innocent woman was murdered and I'm going to ensure that she receives justice. Am I making myself perfectly clear to you, Chief Duddles?”

  Chief Duddles stared at Michelle and realized that his harsh words and intimidating attitude toward the strangers had finally backed him into a corner. Michelle Chan was not the type of woman that could be bullied or scared off. The woman was a fighte
r. “This is a small town, Detective. I have other people to think of,” he sputtered, struggling to find solid ground to stand on.

  “When an innocent woman is murdered, you focus in on her,” Michelle scolded Chief Duddles and tossed a thumb down the road. “You'll be hearing from Agent Whitfield within the next two hours. Until then, I suggest you get your paperwork in order. Go wait for his call in your office.”

  Amanda could not believe what she witnessed—Chief Duddles forced to stand down and submit to this outsider. Not that she minded. She did not care a loaf of bread for Chief Duddles, though she did harbor fond feelings for his wife. Still, seeing an outsider force her way into Ridge Falls upset her. Ridge Falls belonged to the people who kept the town alive—not to a nosy out of towner threatening to bring in federal agents. As far as Amanda was concerned, the federal government was full of crooks and liars who ran an alphabet soup of agencies that wasted the taxpayer's dime. She had a sticker on the back of her truck that proudly read Bring Back Enforcement of the 10th Amendment. Would their little town be invaded by the type of person who would rather turn power over to the crooked senators and weak governors? Amanda took a deep breath and decided she would not stand idly by and watch it happen. “Chief, are you going to stand there and be talked down to by this outsider?”

  Chief Duddles licked his lips again. “Mom, go on back inside and make these people some coffee and bring the little girl to them. I'm...turning this case over to Detective Chan,” he said and slunk back to his car and drove away.

  Michelle walked over to Momma Peach just as Thelma pulled up. “Are you guys okay?” she asked.

  “We're fine. How did it go for you?” Momma Peach asked.

  “Coroner showed up sooner than expected,” Michelle replied in a grateful voice. “Thelma towed Charlene’s truck to the impound yard.”