Toast and Strangled Eggs

By Renae Janecek

Murder is on the ticket, and the order’s up!
Reggie Bore was a rotten egg. Almost everyone in the small Texas town had a negative interaction with him. However one encounter turns deadly...
When the body of the grumpy town blackmailer is discovered behind Lia’s family diner, her father becomes the prime suspect. Now Lia and her best friend need to sift through the eccentric locals to find the real killer. Their hunt for clues is so full of twists and turns and false accusations that it leaves them feeling scrambled. Adding more to their plate, a no-nonsense detective demands Lia stop interfering in the investigation.
Can they solve the case before the culprit dishes out another serving of murder? Because this time it’s Lia’s name on the menu...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Renae Janecek
• Release date: Nov 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005410384

Book preview

Toast and Strangled Eggs

A Short Diner Mystery #1

By Renae Janecek

Copyright 2022 by Renae Janecek

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author.

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Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. The characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to actual persons, places, or events is coincidental.

Dedication

To Jennifer Oberth and Ellie Oberth for their unwavering encouragement and support. I love you dearly.

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Acknowledgements

I’d also like to thank my writing group for their critiques and support. Thank you for all the wonderful suggestions and advice. I also appreciate my husband, Rhiannon, Henry, and Dad for their input as well. If there are any errors in my story, the fault is due to author error.

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Cover Photo by Canva

Cover design by Ellie Oberth

Edited by Jennifer Oberth

Proofread by Ellie Oberth

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Toast and Strangled Eggs

I’ve never wanted someone to choke on their scrambled eggs more than Reggie Bore. The old grump sat at the diner bar chomping on buttery eggs. Granted, it wouldn’t be proper etiquette to kill my father’s clientele, but Reggie’s obnoxious chewing was done solely to aggravate me.

Reggie smirked every time I shuddered, and he made sure to smack his lips and slurp his coffee even more. He got louder the more I grimaced. Pretty sure the guy was sadistic—I know the rest of the town thought so.

I inherited my lack of tolerance in food mastication from my mother—who, as luck would have it, was helping Dad in the kitchen. She would’ve shoved the raisin toast down Reggie’s throat.

Refill, Reg? I sloshed more coffee into the already full mug. Brown liquid spilled down the cup to pool in the saucer.

The distraction worked, and he stopped eating long enough to glower at me. Hey! I’ve had my fill of that burnt swill.

This time I gave you decaf.

You know I don’t drink that! What’s the point of coffee if it doesn’t have caffeine?

Looking out for your health, Reg. Only the best for you.

Don’t give me cheek, Lia. I’m a paying customer. You keep disrespecting me, and I’ll have words with the owner of this pitiful establishment. Reggie sneered. Or is Daddy not in today?

I scowled at Reggie who leaned back smugly on his stool. He knew full well my father slaved away in the diner’s kitchen six days a week. Dad had cooks that did most of the food preparations, but my father loved putting his culinary skills to good use. The old gasbag also knew Dad abided by the customer is always right policy, too.

My parents owned Shorts’ Family Diner, a popular breakfast eatery. It nestled smack-dab in the middle of Sunsville, a small town north of Fort Worth, Texas. I’d come to work for my parents after I graduated from college three years ago. It was the perfect job, and I was able to focus on my real passion during my off-time—writing. I loved working in the diner and interacting with the eclectic customers. It provided excellent material for my mystery series, especially serving riffraff like Reggie. He offered inspiration for my stories’ villains and some of their victims...

Come on, Reg, Harris Greeves, my best friend, said. He had the misfortune of sitting next to the grouch. Harris preferred to eat his breakfast at the counter instead of occupying tables that could be used for larger parties. He was the epitome of considerate.

What do you want, lover boy?

Harris turned a mottled pink, but persevered. You know as well as I do you’re intentionally trying to annoy Lia. You do this every time you come to the diner. So, why don’t you stop with the lame threats and enjoy your food.

I tossed Harris a grateful smile, busying myself by wiping crumbs from a recently vacated spot. Harris hated confrontations, but even a nice guy would’ve been at wit’s end with the old sour puss.

You’re her knight in shining armor, eh? Reggie raked dull gray eyes over Harris’s prim countenance.

Even though today was Saturday, Harris still dressed like a supervisor in Khaki slacks and a red polo shirt. He managed the billing department for a hospital and always possessed the air of someone with tons of responsibility. Despite being thirty-five—ten years older than me—Harris had the demeanor of an elderly aristocrat.

Reggie barked out a hoarse laugh when Harris didn’t respond. Just as I thought, you’re all soft fur and no bite.

I slapped the wet rag on the marble counter top. I couldn’t stand the way Reggie made the red hue deepen on Harris’s square face. It was one thing to attack me, but I refused to let anyone bully my friend.

Listen, you old— The chiming front door bell cut me off. Turning toward the new arrival, the intoxicating aroma of oranges drenched in spice filled my nostrils.

Dan Shepherd, a gangly man a few years older than me, crept into the diner. He was tall and lanky with a common face. I didn’t know Dan well, since he was shy and barely spoke on the brief occasions he came to the diner. He had the demeanor of a spooked cat—it didn’t take much to frighten him off.

Hello, Dan. You’re out and about bright and early. What can I get for you? I plastered a smile on my face and hoped it didn’t look as fake as it felt.

Two breakfast platters to-go, please, Dan whispered, studying the toes of his boots. If the bashful guy ever made eye contact with me, it would be a miraculous feat.

Got someone waiting for you? Reggie slid a calloused hand out to poke Dan’s sinewy arm. Withdrawing his fingers, Reggie began cracking his knuckles.

Nope, just, uh, getting an order for Greg and Sarah. They, uh, sent me. The poor guy blushed brighter than Harris.

I didn’t know Greg Bensen opened up shop this early. Reggie cackled in