A Second Helping of Murder by Christine Wenger

the table and whispered, “Do either of you have a guess as to who killed her?”
    â€œFor heaven’s sake.” Mrs. VanPlank sniffed. “This isn’t very pleasant lunch conversation.”
    â€œAre you getting takeout, Trixie?” Laura asked. “Or are you lunching alone?”
    Yikes. I can take a hint. This conversation was over. I’d pushed too hard.
    â€œTakeout. I came here for your delicious burgers.”
    â€œGive your order to Charlie, the bartender. He’ll help you,” Laura said, picking up her fork.
    That was an absolute dismissal. She didn’t have to hit me over the head with a serving platter. I got the message.
    â€œLadies, I’d like to invite you both to the Silver Bullet Diner for lunch or dinner, on me. Please do come.”
    I heard myself babbling, and couldn’t believe I was inviting the First Ladies to dine with me. But maybe I could get more information out of them on my home turf.
    â€œThank you, but our schedule is quite full,” Laura said, fingering her pink pearls.
    â€œI’d like to go, Laura,” said Mrs. VanPlank,surprising me. “I’d enjoy seeing Trixie’s diner and cottages. I’d like to take a tour.”
    â€œThen it’s a date,” I said. “How about tomorrow for lunch?”
    â€œI presume that’ll be okay. I do have to check my appointment book to be sure.” Laura shifted on her seat to cross her legs. “If I don’t call you to cancel, we’ll see you at noon.”
    Mrs. VanPlank nodded.
    I waved good-bye and decided to skip the takeout from here after all. I’d phone Juanita and order some bacon cheeseburgers on homemade sourdough bread and some curly fries with balsamic vinegar. It would be ready by the time we got there.
    When I walked to where Ty had parked his black monolith, I found him completely absorbed in reading Claire’s file. Walking around to the passenger side, I climbed in.
    â€œWhat did you find out from Claire’s file, the one that you know nothing about and have never seen?” I asked.
    â€œClaire was pregnant. Two months along when she saw Dr. Francis.”
    Pausing for a while, I let that sink in. She had to be truly in love, head-over-flip-flops, white-lace-and-promises in love with whoever her boyfriend was.
    And Claire was always happy, even more so just before she went missing. Her eyes always twinkled and the smile on her face was evenbigger. I’d studied her every movement back then, her hand gestures, the way she walked, talked, and laughed. I would have known if something was wrong with her.
    â€œWho went with her to the appointment?” I asked.
    â€œNo one.”
    â€œTwenty-five years ago, did a seventeen-year-old have to have a parent or guardian with her to see a doctor?” I wondered.
    â€œI don’t think so, and Dr. Francis didn’t seem to care. He even made a note in the folder that he thought she was younger than twenty-one. That was the age she gave him.”
    â€œReally?” That surprised me. “Who did she name as father?”
    Ty stared a hole through the folder. “She didn’t. She said that the father was unknown.”
    â€œShe knew who the father was. Claire wasn’t the type to sleep around.”
    â€œBeing that you were ten years old, how did you know?”
    â€œLet’s call it preteen intuition. Admittedly, she was my heroine, so my opinion was very tainted, but I just had a feeling that Claire was in love—and she seemed like the type to fall hard for one person,” I insisted. “What else did you find out from the folder that you don’t have in your possession?”
    â€œWhen her family came to Sandy Harbor for that summer in June—it was June first, if Iremember correctly from the reports—she saw Doc Francis on August third and was already four months pregnant. She died three days later, the night of the