Choke Read Online Free PDF Page B

directly across the street from Cathy’s, was closed indefinitely, of course, with that yellow tape stretched across the doorway, but through the alleyway between the buildings Immy spied dark metal behind the diner. She crossed the street and walked around to the back. Sure enough, Clem’s dark blue pickup was parked beside the dumpster bin. She was a little surprised. What would he be doing there today? On the other hand, Clem had practically lived at the place for many years now, spent most of his waking hours there on a normal day, which today wasn’t.
    Yellow tape hung down one side of the back door, not fastened to the other jamb. Had Clem pulled it down to get in? At any rate, she wouldn’t be trespassing if the tape was down, she reasoned. She pulled her jacket sleeve over her hand and, protecting the knob from her fingerprints, tried it. The door swung open.
    “Clem?” she called softly. The lights in the back hallway were off, but a strip of brightness showed beneath the door to the kitchen. “Clem?”
    She knocked lightly on the kitchen door, not wanting to startle him.
    His gruff voice answered her. “Who the hell is it?”
    Immy cracked the door open and showed her face. “It’s me, Clem. I wanted to see if you were all right.” The familiar smells of the diner drifted into the hallway, but they were old, stale odors. No cooking was going on today.
    He perched on his stool at the counter where he usually made out the menus for the week, but no menus were in sight, just an empty countertop. What was he doing here?
    “What do you mean?” he said. “Why shouldn’t I be all right? You mean the stolen stuff?”
    He didn’t exactly look all right. His large, puppy dog eyes were troubled, and his jowls seemed to droop more than usual.
    “Well, I mean with Uncle Huey being dead and the restaurant being closed.”
    “Yeah. Damn shame about Hugh.”
    “I know he wasn’t your favorite person.” Immy leaned her elbows on the cool countertop, lacking another stool, and contemplated Clem across its broad, shiny, stainless steel surface. Clem would be a good match for Hortense in a contest for who weighed the most. His Santa Claus cheeks didn’t glow with their normal ruddiness, but maybe that was because he wasn’t standing over a stove or a grill. Those dewlaps of his swung as he slowly shook his head.
    “What do you mean about stolen stuff?” asked Immy.
    “Didn’t you hear? There was a robbery when Hugh was killed. Hugh’s wallet got stolen and all the cash from the safe. Damn thief even took the new shipment of sugar packets. Several boxes, too. If that don’t beat all.” He shook his head again. “I wasn’t here right then, by the way.”
    “No, I didn’t hear anything was stolen.” So maybe a robber killed Huey? Taking the cash and the wallet made sense, but sugar packets? Maybe Clem was mistaken about that.
    “It was nice of you to send flowers to Mother yesterday.”
    “Oh, hell, she deserves ‘em. Her and me both hate what Hugh’s done to this place. You remember when it was the Duckworthy Diner, when your grandparents ran it?”
    “Just faint, early memories, and I think I mostly remember pictures of my family that were taken here.”
    “The old Double D was a fine eating establishment. People came from all the towns around to eat at the Duckworthy place. Those were good times. When your pa and Hugh ran it together, it was still good. But when Louie left to be a cop, Hugh wasn’t up to runnin’ it himself.”
    Clem shook his head. “I always wondered if Hortense and I could run this place together or maybe another one somewhere else, but she always says she doesn’t want to.”
    “Clem, she retired from the library. She’s never worked in a restaurant.”
    “I know, I know, but we’d make such a good team.” Clem’s goofy grin, incongruous on his hangdog face, was testament to his longstanding pursuit of Immy’s mother. He looked at the grease-splattered ceiling with