A Peachy Plan Page 5

  Thelma parked her tow truck and climbed out. She spotted Mom holding a gun. “Mom, have you been acting silly?”

  “I've been protecting Susan,” Amanda Westings snapped and stomped back inside the diner.

  Thelma shook her head. “Mom has a temper, that's for sure,” she said and looked around at the deserted street. “My, when the town is quiet like this, it's sure pretty, even with a blizzard barreling down on us.”

  “You got here quick,” Michelle said.

  “Impound yard is just down the road,” Thelma explained. “I know these roads better than the chief does and arrived in town before you. I figured Mom might be stubborn and wanted to make it here to the diner before she slammed the door in your face. I got held up a few minutes when my chains locked up on me.”

  Momma Peach looked at the diner. “I am too cold to talk anymore. Let's all go inside,” she said and hurried into the diner. Luckily, the diner was warm and smelled of coffee, eggs, flapjacks, and donuts all mingled in with the scent of pinewood. The hardwood floors gleamed with wax and on the walls frames full of old yearbook photos presented the smiling faces of high school students who must be well into their fifties and sixties now. A feeling of nostalgia and comfort washed over Momma Peach. It sat empty at the moment, but she could just see the people of Ridge Falls sitting in the booths, drinking coffee and talking—familiar faces filling a cozy building with a life untouched by a cruel world; faces that formed Ridge Falls and created the heart beating within the center of the diner. “My, how nice,” Momma Peach said and removed her gloves. As she did Mom, hurried out of the kitchen wearing a frantic expression. “Mom, what is it? Amanda?”

  “Susan, she's gone. She ran out the back door,” Mom exclaimed. “It must have been...the shooting I was doing,” Amanda finished and collapsed down into a booth. “It scared her so bad. Oh, I've been a very stupid old woman,” she cried.

  Momma Peach turned and looked at Michelle, Sam, and Thelma with desperate eyes. Outside, the snowstorm grew worse.

  Amanda Westings did not like outsiders but she warmed up to Momma Peach very quickly. Momma Peach, she saw, was the type of woman who needed to live in Ridge Falls; the type of woman that would contribute to the town and bring the kind of loving warmth that was slowly fading away. “I'm sorry I nearly shot you, Momma Peach,” she said, pouring coffee into a brown mug.

  Momma Peach picked up the mug gratefully. “Baby, you were only doing what your heart was screaming at you to do,” she said and took a careful sip of coffee. “I ain't mad at you for protecting a scared little baby girl.”

  Sam held up a brown mug. “May I have some coffee?” he asked.

  Mom glared at Sam with hard eyes. “I should pour this pot of coffee over your head,” she said and sloshed some coffee into his mug.

  “Thanks,” Sam winced and looked around. Momma Peach had him cornered in the booth. Michelle and Thelma sat across from him. He had no place to hide. If Mom decided to douse him with scalding hot coffee, well then, he would get doused. “Mom, I'm sorry about hitting you with those snowballs. How many times do I have to apologize?”

  “Until you say 'Uncle',” Amanda Westings snapped and turned to Michelle. “You want some coffee, Detective?” she asked in an unfriendly voice.

  “No,” Michelle answered back in a tone that made Amanda stand back. “I like getting my coffee from people who know how to treat people with a decent heart, not a cold soul.”

  Amanda stared at Michelle. Michelle met her stare. The look in Michelle's eyes sent guilt through the older woman’s heart and forced her to realize that she had been acting like a sour turnip instead of a loving, caring woman. Wasn’t she known as Mom for a reason? A verse from the Bible whispered into her heart and finalized the verdict of guilt and truth. “Love thy neighbor,” she said and shook her head. “Oh, this old woman has been acting so foolish.”

  Thelma held up her coffee mug. “Mom, sometimes folks from the outside aren't bad people,” she pointed out in a kind voice.

  “An outsider came into Ridge Falls and now poor Charlene Readings is dead,” Amanda retorted, but not in a fierce tone.

  Momma Peach studied Amanda’s upset eyes. “Mom, are you talking about little Susan or somebody else?”

  Mom set down the coffee pot she held on the table and glanced around her diner. “My mother started this diner. I began working here when I just ten years old. I helped wash dishes,” she explained. “I've spent my entire life in this diner waiting on familiar faces, serving the same old food, making the same old coffee, and loving every single second. And not one time—not one time—did I ever encounter trouble. You know why? Because a long time ago the good people of Ridge Falls figured it out, I tell you. We made a pact to keep outsiders out and support ourselves.” Amanda Westings shook her head. “The first time an outsider comes in...a good woman dies. Not that everyone thought poor Charlene was a good woman. The town never did really accept her as one of their own,” she said and pointed at Thelma. “The same goes for you. In Ridge Falls you have to be born and bred here to be accepted. Now you understand why.”

  Momma Peach thought of the Amish. The Amish were peaceful, loving people who kept the outside world at bay and lived inside their own communities, maintaining their own beliefs and lifestyle without interference from a society intent on destroying itself from the inside out. The Amish, to a country brainwashed with disgusting television shows, diseased movies, and rotted music, were strange and considered outcasts. But to Momma Peach, the Amish were brilliant and taught that America could return to a simple life that America; with indoor plumbing, of course. The little town of Ridge Falls, even though far from resembling an Amish community, did resemble the Amish spirit in keeping with tradition that forbade the outside world from intruding into its safe zone of peace and comfort. “I understand why,” Momma Peach promised, imagining an Amish man walking to his barn on a cold, crisp, winter morning, whistling a sweet hymn to himself. It was an image of utter safety and peace.

  “I understand, too,” Michelle added, “but the fact is that a woman is dead and it's the responsibility of this town to cooperate. Now, this outsider, was it Susan or someone else?”

  Amanda Westings bowed her head. “I...” she began to speak and then paused. Her own people were the creators of the pact made many, many years ago between the founders of Ridge Falls. If she violated the pact, her family and friends would never forgive her; she would be marked as a traitor and run out of town. She had to consider her words carefully. “My daughter and son-in-law are at home. I didn't see any sense in making them work today with the storm coming. I open six days a week regardless of the weather...good thing I did because Susan came to me. Anyway, I'm running the kitchen alone, but I'll cook you all up something to eat. How does cheeseburgers and fries sound?”

  “How about answering my question,” Michelle demanded. “Mrs. Westings, I'm not in the mood to chase you around the coral. I want answers and I want them now.”

  Amanda shook her head. She had her daughter and son-in-law to protect, not to mention her husband was currently fighting off an awful virus. Of course, her husband was also a man who spent his time in his workshop when he was well, barely stepping a foot in the diner, but that did not bother her. Some people were hermits and she just happened to marry one of them. Hermit or not, she did not want to see any harm come to the man. She loved her husband and was dedicated to him. “Detective,” she said, forcing her voice to remain calm, “if you want answers from me then speak to my lawyer. I admit that I haven't been acting the way a good Christian woman should, but I have my family to protect. I have done nothing beyond the law.”

  Michelle shook her head. “I guess Charlene Readings’ murder doesn't mean anything to the people in this town,” she said and tossed a thumb toward the kitchen. “I'll skip my meal, thank you,” she said and then added in a sarcastic tone: “Poison words and attitude, probably a poison meal too, served up by the likes of you.”

  “Mic
helle,” Momma Peach pleaded.

  “What?” Michelle asked. “This woman didn't see Charlene Readings’ body tossed in a body bag, I did. She didn't see Charlene Readings’ neck, I did.” Michelle looked up at Amanda. “I saw her body, Mrs. Westings, you didn't. She was my friend. Justice will be served. So take a hike, huh?”

  Momma Peach sighed. “Mom, go on back to your kitchen.” Amanda bowed her head, grabbed the coffee pot, and walked away. “Baby,” Momma Peach told Michelle, “you have to calm your heart. I knows you’re mighty upset, but Mrs. Westings didn't kill poor Charlene, rest her soul. No sir and no ma’am, that old woman was just trying to protect little Susan.”

  “And nearly killed you doing it,” Michelle added and rubbed her forehead. “I'm sorry, Momma Peach. I'm just fed up with this town,” she said. “Life has to be faced with a clear mind, not with delusional thinking and creepy pacts.”

  Momma Peach thought back to the bull chasing her. She heard Sam busting a gut. She saw Michelle smiling after she won the snowball fight. How quickly the smiles had been replaced by...reality. “I know.”

  Sam pushed his coffee toward Michelle. “Drink up, okay?”

  “No, thank you,” Michelle told Sam. “I'd rather drink toilet water than have a single drop of that woman's coffee touch my lips.”

  Thelma put down her coffee mug. “Michelle, I know you're upset, and you have every right to be, but stop treating Mom like she's dirt. Mom—Amanda Westings—is a good woman,” Thelma motioned around the diner. “Ridge Falls isn't filled with millionaires. There's a lot of poor families in this town and Mom feeds those families for free. Every Thanksgiving she cooks more turkeys than we can count and serves them up for families who can't afford to fill their tables with all the delicious trimmings most people take for granted. So stop treating the lady like she belongs in a jail cell full of rats.”

  Momma Peach nodded. “Thelma is right. You're acting mighty ugly. I love you, so I have to speak the truth.”

  “Yeah, I have to agree,” Sam added. “It's not right to set the heart full of anger toward a person who has never really hurt anyone, Michelle.” Sam pulled his coffee mug back toward him. “What's Mom’s true crime in your eyes? Are you mad at her because she's protecting her way of life? And before you answer, take a good look around you. This diner is that woman's life...this town...the people in this town...and we're simply outsiders. This pact has protected them for a long time, like it or not. So don't be so hard on a woman who is hiding a great deal of fear inside of her heart. I don't think for a second that she doesn't care about Charlene Readings’ murder, because she cares enough to protect that little girl. That says a lot.”

  Michelle felt like a scolded five-year-old learning a hard truth. Here she was a grown woman—a homicide detective—acting like an angry child toward a woman who, she had to admit to herself, was probably a better person than she was. Michelle sure did not cook turkeys up for hungry families on Thanksgiving. “I guess I owe the woman an apology.”

  “No time like the present,” Momma Peach beamed and nodded toward the kitchen.

  “I guess I can use a cup of coffee,” Michelle said and stood up. “I'll be a few minutes.”

  Momma Peach watched Michelle walk away with joy in her eyes. But her joy was quickly snatched away when Chief Duddles walked through the front door, stomped snow off his boots, and stormed up to the booth. “Where is Detective Chan?” he demanded.

  Michelle was just about to walk through the door to the kitchen. She spun around and jogged back to the booth. “What is it?” she asked.

  “What is it, you ask?” Chief Duddles nearly yelled, “What is it? I'll tell you what it is: Charlene Readings’ house just exploded into a million little pieces, that's what. Her neighbors are all standing outside in the snow wondering if their house is next!”

  “My goodness,” Thelma whistled, “this is turning out to be quite a day.”

  “Don't you start,” Chief Duddles pointed at Thelma. “You just get yourself up and get over there. There's a few vehicles that now have broken windows that need to be towed to Ralph's Garage, or so I've been told. I haven't been to the site yet.” Chief Duddles looked at Michelle. “I wanted to pay a visit to the diner and inform you, Detective Chan, that I’m going to be out of my office for a few hours and might miss the call from your FBI friend.”

  Michelle ignored Chief Duddles’ sarcastic tone. Momma Peach did not, however. She grabbed her pocketbook, stood up, and whacked Chief Duddles upside the head. Chief Duddles, shocked by the attack, stumbled backward. “What is your problem, you rude little marshmallow!” Momma Peach yelled and prepared for a second attack. Michelle grabbed her. “Oh, let me beat some sense into him! Fussing about the FBI when a good woman’s murder is unsolved and now this explosion…let me at him!”

  Chief Duddles shook his head and then went for his cuffs. Michelle let go of Momma Peach and grabbed Chief Duddles’ arm before he could remove them from his belt. “Don't even think about it.”

  “That woman assaulted an officer of the law!” Chief Duddles yelled. “I'm placing her under arrest.”

  Michelle bit down on her lip. Momma Peach had, in fact, assaulted a police officer—and there were witnesses to the assault. “Oh, Momma Peach,” she said in a painful voice, “I can't...I mean, I have to uphold my oath and...”

  “Baby, don't you worry about me,” Momma Peach said and looked at Chief Duddles with her head held high. “You can arrest me, you sour marshmallow, but you can't ever stop me from beating sense into people too stupid for their own good.”

  Chief Duddles snatched the pair of handcuffs from his belt. “Lady, put down your purse—”

  “Pocketbook, marshmallow boy.”

  “Whatever,” Chief Duddles snapped. “Put your hands behind your back, now!”

  Michelle bit down harder on her lip. She could not let Momma Peach get arrested. “Wait,” she said, “Chief Duddles...if you overlook this incident...I'll call off my friend at the FBI and keep this case...local, between us, as long as you allow me to investigate the murder personally and without interference.”

  “No, Michelle, let him arrest me. After all, I did hit a cop...if you want to call this man a cop.”

  Chief Duddles stared at Michelle. He saw a silver lining in a dark cloud. Perhaps being hit with a purse...or pocketbook...was a blessing in disguise? “No outsiders, Detective?”

  “Just the people who you see in this diner,” Michelle assured Chief Duddles.

  Chief Duddles tossed a glare at Momma Peach and then looked back at Michelle. He knew he did not possess enough leverage to do what he really wanted, which was to force Michelle to leave town with her friends. This would have to do. “Okay, you can investigate the murder, but I have the final say on what you write in the report,” he said. If by chance Michelle did catch Charlene Readings’ murderer, well then, maybe his life would be spared. If Michelle failed and the killer came for him, then he would make sure Michelle and her friends never left Ridge Falls. “I'm going to have to convince the town the explosion was caused by a gas leak. In the meantime,” Chief Duddles said, “find the missing girl. That's all I can say.”

  “You know who the killer is,” Michelle said, her eyes widening.

  Chief Duddles nodded. “Yes, I do. But the life of my wife has been threatened, as well as the lives of the people of this town. I wasn't given much of a choice, Detective. I was told to play ball or suffer the consequence. However, the killer swore once he found the girl he would leave town...he never said anything about killing Charlene Readings. I'm...scared that he might come for me. What do I have to lose in letting you risk your life? Who knows, maybe you'll do me a favor and kill the guy.”

  “Who is the killer?” Michelle demanded.

  “Find the girl and you'll find your answer,” Chief Duddles answered Michelle. “If you live long enough,” he added and walked out of the diner back into the storm. Momma Peach gripped her pocketbook. Ridge Falls surely needed a new Chi
ef of Police because the one they had was an ugly virus.

  Chapter Four

  Momma Peach stood outside in the pelting snow staring at what appeared to be a war zone. Charlene Readings’ house lay strewn everywhere—pieces dangled in frazzled trees, on snow-covered lawns, and in the recently plowed street that resembled a road leading to misery instead of warm, safe homes. “This sight reminds me of our visit to your old town, Mr. Sam,” she said hugging her arms together.

  “Yep,” Sam replied, absorbing the ugly sight as the icy winds tore into his face. “No gas explosion did this.”

  “You're right, Sam,” Michelle said with her arms folded together, ignoring the cold and snow, “this was sabotage.”

  “Which proves to me that our little Susan wasn't dropped off in Ridge Falls. Me and Sam believe whoever has that little girl stopped in Ridge Falls for gas or food before crossing the border. Maybe the little girl managed to somehow jump ship and wander into town.” Momma Peach shook her head at the destruction before her eyes. “My, my, whatever sick soul destroyed poor Charlene Readings’ house is someone I ain’t looking forward to tangling with.”

  “Whoever destroyed this house is a pro,” Michelle pointed out. She looked to her left and saw a group of nervous neighbors huddled together next to a small firetruck. Chief Duddles stood at the front of the firetruck talking to a tall, beefy firefighter. He looked at Michelle and then quickly turned his eyes away. “I think that little girl Susan knows something that she shouldn't,” she continued. “I'm going to make some calls and see what I can dig up. In the meantime, there's really no sense in us standing out in this storm freezing.”

  Momma Peach spotted Thelma hauling a green jeep away and waved at her. Thelma’s truck crept up and she rolled down the driver's side window. “This is my last haul,” she said in a tired voice. “Hop in, Momma Peach, and we'll drive to my place after I drop this jeep off at the garage. Sam, you and Michelle and can follow me.”