Here's the excerpt from Tip a Hat to Murder:
EARLY OCTOBER WAS USUALLY one of the quietest months in the Bully Pulpit Bar and Diner.
Students at Sweathog Agricultural College were six weeks into their semester, which meant scared they would fail at least one class. The Frisky Heifers had lost at least three football games. That shut up all the drunks. At least during the week.
This was not a quiet October.
“What do you mean no one can tip us?” Marti Kerkoff glared at her boss, one foot tapping on the black and white tiled floor. The right side of her mouth started to turn down. “I pay my chiropractor with that money.”
Nick Hume stepped closer to manager Ben Addison, his five-foot-ten frame rigid. “That’s my beer money.” He looked at Marti. “What the hell do you need a chiropractor for? You sit on your butt half the time.”
She stood up from the counter stool, faced Nick, and balled her fists. Marti was short, but no less fierce because of it. “I sit down sometimes because I work my ass off bringing water to other people’s customers.”
Ben stepped between the two of them, which gained his nose some of Nick’s spittle. “The Weed and Feed stopped tips last week. This is how it’s gotta be.”
Nick’s face reddened. “The potheads who eat there don’t care what they pay. You try to increase prices to,” he raised his fingers in air quotes, “pay us more so no one has to tip,” he stopped air quoting and pointed a finger at Ben’s still-damp nose, “and no one will eat here.”
“Leave him be, Nick,” Marti said.
When Nick stood back a few inches, Marti stepped between Nick and Ben. “Everyone knows you’ve been putting cracker meal in the hamburger.”
Ben reddened. “Only if you told them!”
“The gluten-free mafia said they have to use the can more.” Nick said.
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