Deadly Director's Cut by Vicki Delany

Author:Vicki Delany [Delany, Vicki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2022-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

“She had me at egg cream,” Velvet said.

“Same for me,” I said. “And a grilled cheese sandwich to go with it, please.”

“Make that three egg creams,” Lucinda McGreevy told the waitress.

It was ten o’clock in the morning on Wednesday. I’d left a stack of unanswered pink message slips on my desk, an accounts book that refused to balance, a pile of unopened envelopes, and come into town for a late breakfast. Knowing Velvet had a gap in today’s schedule between eight o’clock calisthenics for teenage girls on the dock and a round of the ever-popular Simon Says to lead at noon on the beach, I’d invited her to come with me.

I’d said no more than “for an egg cream at the diner,” and she was sprinting in the direction of my car.

The Red Spot Diner, located in the center of Summervale’s main street, is famous for its version of the frothy soda drink. “Best in the Catskills,” they claimed, and I agreed.

“As seems to be becoming a habit,” Lucinda said once we’d placed our orders, “Haggerman’s is the talk of the town.”

“Talk we don’t need,” I said. “I hate to say it, but that’s why we’re here.”

“I figured as much,” Lucinda said. “That’s okay, Elizabeth. You’re busy. I’m busy. We’re all too busy in the summer to simply spend time being friends.”

As if to prove her point, Lucinda’s mother walked past our booth and gave her daughter a disapproving glare.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’m having a quick break before the next rush.” Lucinda smoothed her skirt. Her dark hair was tied back, and she wore the diner’s waitress uniform of a red dress under a white apron liberally sprinkled with giant red polka dots.

“You can have a break,” Mrs. McGreevy said, her accent tinged with memories of the back alleys of Naples, where she’d spent her early childhood, “in October.”

“If I live that long,” Lucinda said.

I laughed, and Mrs. McGreevy turned her Italian-mother scowl on me. I ducked my head. We’d been seated directly beneath a slowly turning fan mounted on a high shelf, and the moving air felt delicious on my overheated neck and arms. The temperatures were supposed to be in the low nineties for the next couple of days, and the humidity would rise along with it.

The waitress put three egg creams on the table and slid a plate of grilled cheese and french fries in front of me.

I’d timed our visit carefully, hoping my friend could take a moment to catch her breath (and enjoy an egg cream) between the breakfast rush and the busy lunch hour.

Lucinda’s family’s restaurant is the most popular casual place in Summervale. It’s centrally located, making it popular with townspeople on their lunch break as well as tourists and summer visitors looking for a quick, plain but delicious, reasonably priced meal.

Meaning, it was gossip central. Lucinda, who’d grown up helping out in the diner, knew just about every one of the longtime residents and many of the newer ones, like me. We’d met over the winter and became instant friends.

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