In a Pickle: A Kristi Lundrigan Mystery by Debbie Mumford

Author:Debbie Mumford [Mumford, Debbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WDM Publishing

15

Monday afternoon

When lunch time rolled around, Kristi volunteered to go out for sandwiches for herself and Eula.

The older woman looked up from her piecing and said, “Thanks. I didn’t even think about packing a lunch today.”

“Any requests?” Kristi asked.

“Well, I was kind of thinking it might be nice to get a sandwich from The Honey Barrel.” She paused and looked out the window. “You know, support the business in their time of need, what with Herman’s death and all.”

Kristi shivered. She hadn’t told Eula that Herman’s partner, Matt Jenkins, had been poisoned last night. She forced a smile and said, “That’s a great idea. What would you like?”

“I’m not picky,” Eula said, picking up the next square of fabric to piece into the top she was working on, “but maybe something like ham and cheese.”

“I bet they’ll be able to whip something up,” Kristi said, heading to the break room to grab her denim shoulder bag. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Kristi stepped out of the shop’s back door and walked around the side of the small white house that housed Delectable Mountain Quilting. She took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scents of the flowering bushes she’d planted along the side. The day was sunny and cloudless, a perfect Montana summer day, and she was glad to be outside, if only for a few minutes.

The Honey Barrel Brewpub was located just a few doors down from the quilt shop, but Kristi rarely frequented the place. She thought of it as a glorified bar, though she knew Herman had taken great pride in the deli side of his business. Especially the pickles. Herman had loved pickles and had insisted that the pub keep a large jar of the biggest dill pickles he could find right on the counter where all the customers could see them.

It was ironic that a pickle had killed him.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Kristi pulled open the glass front door of The Honey Barrel and stepped inside. A glance at the interior revealed a small restaurant with multiple square four-top tables and a long bar along the back of the room. The floor and walls were rough wood, giving the room a distinctly rustic look. The bar and tables were also dark wood, and the lights, shaped to resemble the type of oil lanterns that she associated with old-time barns, were turned low. She supposed the atmosphere was supposed to be cozy, but with only a few customers scattered among the tables, Kristi found it depressing.

The sole waitress in the room looked up when Kristi stepped inside. Kristi noticed her, too. Young, no more than twenty-five, with medium length blonde hair corralled in two braids that hung over her shoulders, and the kind of peaches and cream complexion and even features that many women longed for.

The attractive young woman stood behind the bar and moved toward the end where the cash register— and huge pickle jar— stood. She started to raise the hinged section, but Kristi waved her back.

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