Crops and Robbers by Paige Shelton Page A

restaurant owner.
    “Did you know her well . . . ?” I asked as I peered at her name tag. “Leslie.”
    “She was a great boss.” Leslie wasn’t going to win any Academy Awards.
    “I see.”
    “Your server will be Shaun. He’ll be with you in a moment.” Leslie hurried away from any further questions.
    “Pitt?” Ian said quietly, once she was out of earshot.
    “Silly, huh? There was no need for aliases, but I didn’t want anyone to know we were coming. Truthfully, I don’t think anyone will care that we’re eating at Bistro. No one is paying a bit of attention.”
    “Hi, folks, my name’s Shaun. Can I get you some drinks?” Shaun was tall, skinny, and energetic.
    We ordered iced teas and then pasta dishes. Before long, we had a small loaf of sourdough bread and very fresh salads in front of us.
    “Shaun, can I ask you a question?” I said as he refilled the iced tea glasses.
    “Of course.”
    “How involved was Joan, the owner? In the restaurant, I mean.”
    Shaun blinked and then said, “Joan was a wonderful boss.”
    Clearly, there’d been a meeting. They all sounded alike.
    “Yeah, I’m sure, but really, how involved was she. Was she here all the time?”
    “She was wonderful.” Shaun smiled and then turned to walk away. A small splatter of iced tea plopped on the table.
    “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” I muttered.
    Ian laughed. “Bec, did you think they were going to tell you she was horrible? She was murdered. No one wants to be heard saying anything bad about her. Plus, she did pay their salaries. It isn’t wise to bad-mouth your boss, murdered or not. I know you’re here to find out something you don’t already know, but maybe we should just enjoy dinner. Maybe you’ll learn something, maybe not. Relax.”
    I smiled. He was right. I was too anxious, too needy. I wanted my mother cleared and though subtle generally wasn’t my game, I was being even more boisterous than normal. I took a deep breath.
    Besides, I had learned a little something. Just being there made me better understand why they were open for business. The restaurant was an entity unto itself. It was big, popular, and busy. It had taken on a life of its own, separate from Joan’s life. Her death was a tragedy, and I was sure people were mourning, but they weren’t showing it here. Perhaps Joan wasn’t a hands-on boss. I set my sights to finding out that one fact while I enjoyed dinner and Ian’s company.
    At the end of the exhale, I looked up to see Betsy headed in our direction, her legs scissorlike and swift.
    “Uh-oh,” I said.
    “What?”
    “Here she comes.”
    I turned my head away from her, hoping she didn’t see me but pretty sure she had.
    She walked past, her destination somewhere behind me.
    “Did she see us?” I said.
    “I don’t think so,” Ian said. “I was ready to charm her with some sweet talk and everything.”
    “I bet.”
    “I wonder where that door leads,” Ian said as he leaned and peered down the aisle.
    “I don’t think it goes to the kitchen. Maybe the office or some staff locker room?” I said as I turned and did the same.
    Suddenly, it was as though a bell dinged in my head. I looked at him and smiled conspiratorially.
    “Becca, what are you thinking?”
    “I’m thinking of all the information that’s in that office, if it is an office.”
    “Maybe, maybe not, but I doubt it’s worth the risk of getting caught and then perhaps arrested. Think about it—not good timing.”
    “You’re probably right, but what if I didn’t get caught? I tend not to get caught.”
    I was grateful that Ian was the kind of boyfriend who didn’t demand that I shape up and quit sneaking into places I shouldn’t sneak into. That was probably a good part of the reason we were still together. Demands didn’t work for either of us.
    “Is it worth it, though?” Ian said.
    I thought a long minute and shrugged. “We’ll see if she comes back out.”
    Ian nodded unwillingly.
    As we