Read All Natural Murder for Free Online Page A

astounded by my good luck—Ashlee had not only remembered the name, but this was Maria’s shift. Surely that was a good sign.
    When the waitress stopped at the only vacant booth along the back wall, I plopped myself down on the Naugahyde seat, wincing as my bottom smacked the hard surface, and looked around. Which waitress was the evil temptress who had lured my sister’s boyfriend over to the dark side?
    I could rule out the woman who had seated me since she would have admitted her name when I asked to sit in Maria’s section. While the plump woman in her late sixties handing off a plate of waffles to another customer was attractive enough, Bobby Joe didn’t strike me as the type to woo the geriatric crowd.
    Then I noticed a petite, trim Hispanic girl about Ashlee’s age, with a curly mass of hair piled on her head and gold hoop earrings dangling from her lobes. My first thought was that she was almost too short to retrieve the dishes from the pass-thru counter, so this job must be ridiculously awkward for her. My second thought was that she was much too tiny to beat Bobby Joe to death with a tailpipe. Unless she’d kicked him in the shins first and knocked him down.
    She stood near the swinging kitchen door, deep in conversation with a man with short brown hair and glasses. I couldn’t be sure, but I’d guess the two were arguing as they leaned in close to talk. Every few seconds, one or the other would look around to see if anyone was watching.
    Whatever the guy was telling the girl, she wasn’t happy about it. He held up a smartphone and pointed at the screen, but she shook her head, lips pressed together. He swiftly typed on the keypad and raised the screen again, but the girl turned away. The guy slapped his hand on the wall so hard that several diners looked over. When he noticed the attention he’d drawn, he dropped his hand and stalked out of the restaurant.
    Interesting.
    Even from a distance, I could see the girl’s cheeks grow pink. She moved to the beverage station but didn’t fill a glass, push a button, or wipe down the machine, making me wonder if she was trying to calm her nerves before returning to work.
    I glanced back toward the door and saw the man through the window as he crossed the parking lot. He climbed into an olive-green Ford pickup. The truck had a bumper sticker that I couldn’t read from this distance. My gaze went back to the waitress.
    She smoothed her uniform with both hands, then pulled an order pad and pen from her apron pocket as she walked to my table.
    She stopped before me, head bowed. “What can I get for you?” She didn’t make eye contact.
    Up close, I noticed the sallow hue to her skin, the bags under her eyes big enough to hold a week’s worth of clothes, the marks dark like bruises. Someone was having trouble sleeping.
    “Are you Maria?” I asked.
    Her gaze flitted from my face to the carpet and back several times, ultimately settling on the carpet with its gold and green pattern. Kind of shy for a waitress. “That’s me. Do I know you?”
    I opened my mouth and then shut it. I hadn’t thought up anything to say. I’d been so sure that Maria wouldn’t be working today or that Bobby Joe had lied to Ashlee about where he’d met his mistress that my only focus had been to find this mysterious Maria. Now what?
    Maria looked up at me, probably wondering what was taking me so long to answer such a simple question.
    “Uh, no, uh, one of my friends said you were a super waitress and that I should ask for you next time I ate here.” God, what a lame story.
    Her eyes popped open, and she smiled. “That’s sweet. What’s your friend’s name?”
    Good question. What was my imaginary friend’s name? “Um, Ashlee?” Oh, right, that wasn’t a friend, that was my sister. The one whose boyfriend supposedly cheated with this wisp of a girl. My bad.
    Maria tapped her pen on her lip. She shook her head, the hoop earrings swinging like a trapeze act. “I don’t