Best Friends (New Species #15)(32)

“The diner was closed for a few days.” She wasn’t about to admit she hadn’t been in town, but at Reservation. “I guess I missed out on the gossip.”

Mitzy snorted. “You’re the only one then. Everyone else has teased me a bit. Nancy bought me a pair of slip-on canvas shoes and told me to stick to ones without ties. Can you have Joel make me a special egg sandwich?”

“Of course. Cheese, mushrooms, and bacon cooked into the eggs, right?”

Mitzy grinned. “You got it. Don’t forget the extra mayo on toasted wheat bread.”

“Sure thing. Fries?”

“I’m in the mood for potato salad today.”

“I’ll put the order in and bring your sweet tea. Extra sugar.”

“You’re a doll, honey.”

Mel gave the order to Joel, fixed Mitzy her drink, and placed it in front of her.

“Does your apartment allow dogs?”

Mel shook her head. “Um, no. The owner was clear about no pets.”

“Damn. Someone abandoned two puppies yesterday. I’m looking for homes for them. They aren’t what anyone would consider overly cute. I’m worried no one will want to adopt them. We have enough dogs waiting for homes already.”

“Why don’t you take a picture of them, and I’ll tape it on the window next to the door? You also might want to do that at the post office. Everyone goes in there at least once a week. The grocery store, too.”

“Most businesses won’t allow that.”

Mel winked. “Joel avoids customers by never leaving the kitchen. Us waitresses handle everything from cleaning to locking and unlocking the front doors. He won’t even know. Bring me a picture.”

“You really are a doll, Mel. I’ll do that.”

“What about a website? Mary swears by the internet. Does animal control have one of those?”

“It sure does, but not many people visit the site. The only thing anyone’s been interested in lately is the job listing we’ve posted.”

That surprised her. “Someone quit?”

“Boomer did. I knew that shithead wouldn’t last long. He was Paul’s cousin, and he bitched nonstop about the calls he was sent on.” Mitzy narrowed her eyes. “Hey, can you drive a pickup truck? You lived on a farm, right? Are you good with animals? The pay is probably better than waiting tables.”

Mel threw up a hand and grinned. “I was on the receiving end of Boomer’s complaints when he ate here. No way. I’m not going to become a roadkill scooper, herd cows back into pastures when a fence goes down, or search for Mrs. John’s dog that likes to run off. She really should put up a fence in her backyard, or at least keep it on a leash when it needs to go outside. I heard it takes off almost every darn morning.”

“You really should think about coming to work for animal control.”

“No good prospects have applied?”

“Old Ned wants the job. The other is some lady from Los Angeles. She’s interested, but I figure she can’t be serious. Who would purposely move here?”

Mel raised her hand again. “I did.” She decided to change the subject. “Didn’t Ned lose his driver’s license after he tried to park on the sidewalk in front of the post office? I heard he got arrested for drunk driving.”

“Yes. He thinks if we hire him, Sheriff Cooper will just turn a blind eye if he’s behind the wheel of one of our trucks.”

“What an idiot. Sherriff Cooper would never do that.”

“Damn straight. Ned would just get drunk and crash our truck. And we’d be liable. No way in hell is that going to happen. Our budget is tight enough, and we don’t get many donations.”

Mel spotted a stranger entering the diner. “I have to go. I’ll be back with your order.” She approached the older man with a cane and smiled. “Hello. Counter, table, or booth?”

He glanced around through his dark sunglasses, not taking them off. “Counter.”

She grabbed him a menu and followed his limping gait to the counter, putting the menu in front of him. “What will you have to drink?”

“Coffee. Black.”

“Sure thing. Be right back.” She got him his coffee, dropped off Mitzy’s food, and checked on her other customers. Then she approached the counter and pulled out her pad and pen from the apron tied around her waist. “What would you like to eat?”

His chin rose, and she stared into his dark sunglasses. “Do you get many New Species in here?”

Mel instantly tensed. He didn’t look like one of the nosey reporters who showed up from time to time. Most of them were younger. This guy reminded her of a grumpy grandpa. “Look, mister. We serve food here. Not gossip about our neighbors. If you want to know about the folks at Reservation, they have people there to ask.”

His hand on the counter fisted briefly. But then he flattened it next to his coffee. “I see. I came by yesterday but this establishment was closed. Why was that?”

She tried hard to mask her expressions. Had he heard about the shooting? She went with the story the sheriff had come up with, which she knew had been spread around town. “The fridge broke down and we were closed for a couple days until the owner could get it fixed. A part had to be sent for.”

“That caused the whole place to close down?” He scowled.