Bitch Factor by Chris Rogers

Author:Chris Rogers [Rogers, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Bantam Books
Published: 2011-03-22T03:22:07+00:00

Chapter Twenty-eight

Dixie was glad to see the word Garden separating Payne from Cafe. Regardless of the spelling, she couldn’t get past the image of hot soup in the lap or ground glass in the burgers—a restaurant dispensing pain as the house specialty. Payne Garden Cafe was a little easier to take.

Parked across the street in the Mustang, she studied the Garden Cafe and Payne Hardware, pondering what she might accomplish by going inside. She wanted to know Betsy Keyes, wanted to know her family, their routines and how those routines might have differed on the day the girl died. She wanted to know Courtney, as well. Dixie wasn’t sure how it would help her determine whether the deaths were accidental, but she needed to fill in the picture.

That Rebecca Payne was creative, she deduced from viewing the cafe’s exterior. Nestled among service stations, dry cleaners, and convenience stores, the Garden Cafe contributed a dash of vibrancy to an otherwise commonplace neighborhood street.

A glassed-in sun porch spread across the front. A terraced bed of herbs and flowers flanked the weathered boardwalk leading to the entry. Among chives, dill, and other green edibles, which Dixie recognized by their hand-painted pixie signs, potted poinsettias raised red topknots to the midday sun. In one corner, a stack of flat clay pots and a box of daffodil bulbs bearing a fluorescent PLANT NOW sticker hinted of the yellow blossoms that would spring up in coming months. Dixie liked it.

She entered through a golden oak door embellished with etched glass, a large brass knob, and a tinkling bell. The dining-room space, surprisingly narrow, boasted eight tables, four booths, a six-stool counter, and a specialty section defined by a few well-stocked shelves.

Right away Dixie noted an array of tiny clay pots planted with the same herbs she’d seen outside. An assortment of Mason jars filled with sauces and dressings bore the “Payne Garden Cafe” label. Two shelves of commercially packaged containers held items Dixie had seen in health-food stores—roots, extracts, bulgur wheat, millet, granola, salt substitute, fructose, spice blends, and exotic teas. A framed magazine article beside the specialty section touted the Garden Cafe as one of Houston’s best kept secrets, “a down-home place serving delicious, healthful food at reasonable prices.” Sounded like the best thing since apple butter.

Dixie selected a jar of spaghetti sauce with mushrooms and a packet of Italian spices to supplement Parker Dann’s culinary skills and carried them into the dining area.

Taking a seat at the far end of the counter, she looked the place over. Only one table was occupied—a couple who had eyes only for each other—but the lunch crowd wasn’t officially due for another ten minutes.

Then Dixie noticed the nearest booth was also occupied, and a stillness came over her. The youngest Keyes child, El-lie, lay asleep on the padded seat, a gaily crocheted afghan covering her small body. Seeing her, Dixie realized how worried she’d been that yet another accident might have occurred in the Keyes family. Except for a chapped nose, the girl seemed fine.

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