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recommend.”
    Although I’d never tasted it, I’d seen many adults come in and purchase whole apple pies. I assumed there had to be a reason it was so popular. I suggested apple pie for dessert.
    “Sounds good.” He turned to the waitress. We’ll have two of those and two iced teas,” he told her. “And throw on a couple scoops of ice cream,” he added.
    From the corner of my eye, I spotted Mr. Winslow peering out from behind the kitchen door. I wondered when he’d finally arrived since he was nowhere to be seen this morning. He caught my gaze and walked toward us.
    “Welcome to Winslow’s Diner,” he said with a smile. “How does it feel to be waited on for a change?”
    His friendly attitude surprised me. I couldn’t recall ever seeing the man’s teeth unless they were clenched. He greeted Justin with a handshake, then turned his attention back to me.
    “Miss Thomas, were you able to return Michael Black’s wallet this morning?” he asked.
    “Uh...no…he wasn’t home,” I stuttered. “I thought I’d just leave it at the cashier’s booth in case he comes back in for it.”
    He put his hands behind his back and spun around. “That’s fine. I’m sure he’ll notice it’s missing sooner or later. Enjoy your lunch.”
    His abrupt appearance and departure still had me perplexed when our apple pies arrived. The ice cream had already begun dripping down the sides.
    “Umm. This is delicious,” Justin said, as he scooped a huge bite into his mouth. He pointed his fork at my plate. “Are you going to eat yours or just play with it?”
    “I was just thinking,” I said. I sliced off a piece and took a small bite.
    “About what?”
    “Michael Black ordered apple pie last night, but he didn’t touch it. Not one bite.”
    “So?”
    “So, he obviously had something on his mind. I mean, why bother to come in, order something, then get up and leave suddenly without eating any of it? And to top it off, in his rush to leave, he forgot his wallet.”
    Justin placed his fork on the table along with his elbows. “It doesn’t mean he was planning to kill someone, Denise.”
    “No, it doesn’t,” I admitted. “But it does seem to indicate that he had something weighing heavily on his mind.”
    “But you keep forgetting something, Denise,” Justin said, his voice stern. “There was no body. Nobody killed anyone. It was a joke.”
    I took another bite of the pie, mulling over the possibilities. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I finally agreed. It would take a lot more than my gut feeling to convince Justin that something was amiss. “It must have been a joke,” I said. I finished eating slowly, not really tasting anything. Something was bothering me about this whole mess, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I knew I wouldn’t be able to let it rest until I remembered what it was.

Chapter Four
    “I’ll need you to work late tonight, Miss Thomas.”
    Mr. Winslow’s unexpected voice startled me. My breath caught in my throat, causing me to drop an entire tray of dishes. I cringed, awaiting his wrath.
    It was ten o’clock at night and my regular shift had ended five minutes ago. The last customer had just exited the front door.
    I could still feel my boss’s imposing presence as I bent to gather the broken dishes from the floor. The bell above the door indicated someone else had entered. Several voices carried throughout the small diner as Heather welcomed them inside. Tray in hand, I stood and turned. Four men in dark suits took a seat at an empty table.
    “I’ve promised these gentlemen the use of the diner for an hour,” Mr. Winslow said. His mouth curved into an awkward smile. “You’ll need to stay and offer them pie and coffee.”
    It wasn’t an unusual request. The diner didn’t draw large crowds at any one time. Mr. Winslow often opened up his diner for meetings. But I was usually warned in advance.
    I’d already worked a full eight hours, four hours longer than my normal