He gave me a look but didn’t say anything.

“You already knew?” I asked in surprise.

He turned on the blender, blocking any further conversation in a way that felt intentional. Taking the hint, I checked on the orders for my other tables, carrying out more tuna melts than I ever wanted to see again in my lifetime.

But I couldn’t get my mind off the fact that mild-mannered Pam had supposedly committed murder, and Max already knew about it. But how?

Then it hit me like a black iron skillet to the head.

What if Pam had fulfilled one of Bart Drummond’s favors?

Chapter Four

I checked on a couple of other tables, then delivered the margarita pitcher and glasses to the ladies club.

“What’s the special?” Sandy asked as she took the pitcher out of my hands.

I set the glasses on the table and tried not to make a face. “Tuna melt.”

She gave me a look of disgust. “Then I’ll have a burger.”

“Sandy,” Diane admonished sternly. “Have you no decency?”

“You want to talk about decency?” Sandy asked, her brows practically shooting up to her hairline. “Serving tuna melts is the epitome of indeceny. In fact, I’d appreciate it if none of you ordered one either. I’d rather not sit at a table with that fish smell.”

“I’m not talking about the special. I’m talking about your concern over eating and”—she lifted her nose—“drinking.”

“People still gotta eat, Diane,” Sandy said with a sigh as she poured herself a drink. “Now order, Martha.”

Martha’s mouth rounded as she glanced from Diane to Sandy, then back to me. Her expression turned apologetic. “Since I can’t have the tuna melt, I’ll take a club sandwich.”

I turned my attention to Diane.

Her jaw set and she gave me a defiant glare. “The tuna melt.” She turned her glare on Sandy. “Now what are we gonna do about Pam?”

“We can organize some meals for Rob and the kids,” Martha said, worry filling her eyes.

“That’s a good idea,” Diane said, pulling out a notebook from her purse. “I’ll create a list of people who might want to participate, and I’ll start making calls after lunch. Those boys still gotta eat.”

Sandy snorted. “Meals? She needs a good lawyer. She needs bail money.”

“Has she been arraigned?” I asked.

Diane shot me a dark look to let me know my input wasn’t appreciated.

“We don’t know.” Sandy took a big gulp of her drink, then shuddered. “Maybe we should have gotten a pitcher on the rocks.” She glanced at Martha. “Brain freeze.”

Diane’s glare now suggested she thought I’d made the drink extra cold to interrupt their meeting.

I got the hint. I wasn’t welcome, not to mention I had other customers who needed my attention. Besides, it could be pure coincidence that Pam had killed someone within a few hours of Max and Wyatt’s closed-door meeting the night before. I needed to know what had happened before I could jump to any conclusions.

While I wanted to stalk their table, my other customers kept me busy, so I didn’t get back to the ladies club’s table until I brought out their food. (I’d changed poor Martha’s club sandwich to the tuna melt she’d originally wanted.) They were talking about Pam’s kids—two high schoolers and a daughter who was married with a baby—and the support they were going to need since their father was worthless.

I set the plates on the table and asked if they needed anything else, but Diane sent me on my way. She made it obvious they wanted privacy, so I stayed away until they’d finished eating, then came back and asked if anyone wanted dessert. Sandy ordered strawberry pie, and Martha looked like she wanted something, but Diane’s look of admonishment stopped her.

“We’ll take our checks,” Diane said flatly, giving Sandy a look that didn’t seem to faze her one bit.

The lunch crowd had thinned, and Ginger was busing a table, so I went over to help her. “What do you know about the ladies club?”

Her gaze shifted to the group of women, then back to me. “You mean Diane’s clique?”

I picked up a couple of empty sugar packets off the table and put them on a plate. “Is that what they are?”

She shrugged as she grabbed a handful of dirty silverware and placed it on top of a plate with a half-eaten sandwich that reeked of fish. “They’ve been meeting for over twenty years, and they never invite anyone else.”

“I thought they were just a group of friends who met for lunch every couple of weeks.”

“They are, but it started back in high school. They sat together at lunch every day and kept meeting after they graduated.”

My brow furrowed. “How do you know so much about them?”

She shot a glare in their direction. “My mom went to school with them.”

Their kids were several years younger than Ginger, so her statement caught me by surprise. A quick bit of mental math suggested her mother had had her as a teenager. Judging by Ginger’s contempt for the ladies club, I suspected they had not treated her mother kindly. “What do you know about Pam?”

We carried the plates and glasses to the tub Tiny kept outside the kitchen.

“Pam Crimshaw? There’s not much to tell.”

“I know she’s married and has three kids. Does she have a job?”

“Nope. Her husband works at a hardware store in Ewing, but she stays home. Used to run a daycare out of her house when her kids were small, but I don’t think she’s done that for a while.” She propped a hand on her hip. “Why are you suddenly so interested in her?”

“She was arrested for murder yesterday.”

Shock washed over her face. “Murder? Are you sure it was Pam?”

“That’s why the women are meeting today. To discuss her arrest. They say there were witnesses.”

“Did she kill her husband?”

“I don’t think so. They’re organizing meals for him and the kids.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe it. She’s the last person I’d expect to do something like that. Do you know who she supposedly killed?”

“No, but why did you ask if it was her husband?”

“Rob Crimshaw is not a nice man. I figured she’d probably had enough.”

If she hadn’t killed her allegedly mean husband, who had she killed? I needed to get my hands on that paper.

Pursing her lips, Ginger said, “You never suspect the quiet ones.”

There was probably some truth to that.

I came back to the ladies’ table to bring Sandy her pie and deliver their checks, but all conversation ceased as I approached them. I considered asking Sandy if I could contact her with more questions later, but Diane had made it clear no further questions would be welcome.

With a thin window of opportunity between the end of lunch and the start of Tutoring Club at three-thirty, I asked Ginger if she could cover for me while I made a quick run to the library. Everyone was used to me hanging out over there by now, and she agreed without asking any follow-up questions. Max had gone back to his office, but I decided not to bother him. I knew he wouldn’t care if I left, and Ginger could call him out to help if she needed it. Before I headed out, I went behind the bar and used the phone under the counter to try calling Marco’s cell phone. With the limited cell coverage in the county, the chances of reaching him were slim, but he always checked his phone when he was within range of a cell tower, and if I left him a message, he’d call me back as soon as he got a chance.