Death by French Roast

by Alex Erickson

  “It was a long time ago,” Roger said, breaking the silence.

  “We were together, of course,” Hue said. “We always were back then.”

  “Wade made his choice,” Arthur muttered before taking a drink from his coffee. He grimaced as if it had gone sour since his last sip, though I knew it was the topic of conversation that had put the bad taste in his mouth.

  “There was a fight,” Hue went on, which caused Arthur to curse under his breath. “It wasn’t a big one, mind you. Lester merely told Wade he should break it off with Rita, and Wade refused.”

  “He more than refused,” Lester said. “He told me to mind my own business, in not so nice terms.” He shot me a smile that was anything but friendly. “But I won’t repeat it with a lady present.”

  “He wasn’t happy when he left us, that was for sure,” Hue said. “But there was no real malice to the spat. Just friends and a disagreement. That sort of thing happens all the time.”

  “He was the first to leave?” I asked, wanting to make sure I got the timetable right.

  “He was,” Hue said. “Wade grabbed his coffee and left about fifteen, twenty minutes before anyone else was ready to go. We tend to follow pretty strict schedules out of habit, normally.”

  “Maybe if one of us had gone with him, he’d be alive now,” Roger said, head drooping.

  “Who left next?” I asked. If one of these men killed Wade, or saw who did it, then it would be good to know where they were at the time of his death.

  “Arthur, wasn’t it you?” Zachary asked.

  Arthur crossed his arms and glared across the table. “It was. I had an appointment to keep.”

  “Zachary and Lester left next,” Hue said.

  “Together?”

  “We worked at the same garage,” Lester said. “Always went in right after our little get-together.”

  Zachary nodded his affirmation.

  “I left just after they did,” Cliff said in his too quiet voice.

  “You were sick that day, weren’t you?” Zachary asked. “You looked green if I remember right. Thought you might lose your breakfast before it was all said and done.”

  “I was,” Cliff said. “I went home and spent the rest of the day in bed.”

  Arthur’s eyes narrowed as if he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue. I imagine whatever he said wasn’t going to be friendly.

  “After that, it was just Roger and me,” Hue said. “Roger left before me, which was how it usually went.”

  “Had a hot date.” Roger grinned, but it slowly faded. “Can’t remember her name though.”

  “Wasn’t it Charlotte?” Arthur asked. For the first time since I’d been there, he sounded amused. “I haven’t thought about Charlotte Chambers in years. Whatever happened to her?”

  “Married some foreigner if I recall,” Lester said. “Shame, too. She was pretty.”

  I didn’t see how marrying a foreigner mattered, but I supposed times were different back then, and these men likely still held some of their old prejudices. “So, you were the last to go?” I asked Hue.

  He nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “I hid from the wife as much as I could. I sometimes wonder if I kept this place afloat with all the coffee and eggs I consumed long after everyone else had gone.”

  “You should have divorced her back then,” Arthur said. “Saved yourself some trouble later.”

  “Amen to that,” Hue said, raising his mug in salute. Something told me he wasn’t as happy about his failed marriage as he was letting on, however.

  “Do any of you have any idea who might have killed Wade?” I asked. “There didn’t seem to be a lot of suspects.”

  Glances went around the table. I noted Arthur’s eyes lingered on Lester’s before snapping away.

  “I think what’s in the past should stay there,” Arthur said. “And I do think we work better as a six-piece, rather than seven, so if you wouldn’t mind.” He jerked his head toward the door.

  No one spoke up in my defense, so I stood. I had a ton more questions, but they could wait. I didn’t think I’d get much out of anyone while they were together, but talking to them had given me something to think about.

  “Thank you for letting me sit with you,” I said. “I really do appreciate it.”

  “It was our pleasure.” Hue sounded genuine, though I don’t think the sentiment was shared with anyone else at the table.

  I left them to drink their coffee. It was obvious the men knew more than they were letting on, but which one would tell me what that might be? Hue seemed the friendliest, but that didn’t mean he’d be willing to spill his friends’ secrets. I had a feeling Arthur and Lester would be perfectly content never seeing me again. And Roger and Zachary weren’t exactly forthcoming, either.

  What about Cliff? I wondered. He’d been pretty quiet, soft-spoken. Perhaps there was a reason for it.

  I was out of the diner and halfway to my car when a rough hand grabbed me by the arm and spun me around. I fully expected to find Arthur, demanding to know what I was up to, but instead, it was Judith Banyon.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

  “I was talking to some people,” I said, jerking my arm from her grip. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “You were asking about Wade. I heard you.”

  “I was,” I admitted. “I lived beside Eleanor Winthrow. You remember her, right? Your old friend?”

  Judith winced, and I instantly regretted my tone. The two women might have drifted apart recently, but that didn’t mean Judith hadn’t cared for Eleanor.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean it that way. Eleanor’s daughter, Jane, mentioned Wade to me and I was curious as to what happened to him. I wasn’t trying to upset anyone.”

  “Well, you did. I don’t appreciate you coming around and starting something in my place of business. You’ve caused me enough grief for a lifetime.”

  “I wasn’t starting anything,” I said. “I just wanted to talk, that’s all.”

  Judith’s lips pressed into a tight line. It made her look even more severe, which was saying something. Her gray hair was pulled back from her face so tightly, it was a wonder she could blink.

  “Do you know anything about the murder?” I asked. “If you know who killed Wade Fink . . .”

  “I don’t know a thing. No one here does.” Judith took a step toward me, seriously invading my personal space. “If you know what’s best for you, drop it now before someone else gets hurt.”

  And with that, she spun on her heel and marched back into her diner.

  As she vanished inside, I noticed someone was watching me from one of the windows.

  Eddie.

  He backed away almost the instant I saw him, but in that brief moment, I noticed he looked more than curious. He looked eager to talk.

  He knows something. And I had a feeling that if given the chance, he’d be willing to talk to me about it.

  But for now, it would have to wait.

  I slid into my car, started the engine, and with one last speculative look toward the Banyon Tree, I drove away.

  8

  It wasn’t yet time to meet Larry Ritchie, so after my visit with the Coffee Drinkers, I headed downtown to Phantastic Candies. I was craving chocolate—apparently, I’m a nervous chocoholic—and what better place than the candy store owned by my friend and neighbor Jules Phan?

  I parked out front and made my way to the front door, mouth already watering. I stepped inside to the sound of a giant piece of candy being unwrapped, and just about walked right into a group of people heading out.

  “I’m sorry.” The apology came automatically to my lips. I didn’t realize who it was I was apologizing to until one of them spoke.

  “Krissy?”

  I jerked back in surprise. “Maire?” A quick look told me that it wasn’t just my ex-boyfriend’s mother, Maire Foster, I’d run into, but nearly the entire family.

  Maire’s brigh
t green eyes lit up. “It’s been too long,” she said. “Far, far too long.”

  Before I could react, she wrapped me in a hug.

  Behind Maire, her husband, Keneche, watched on. They were physically polar opposites, but somehow worked well together. Maire was five foot nothing, and not only sounded Irish, but looked it. Keneche was dark-skinned and tall. Where she was exuberant and overly talkative, he was reserved and quiet. Both were some of the nicest people I knew.

  “Hi, Krissy.” Jade, Will’s sister, stood beside her parents, looking as beautiful as ever. Her daughter, Gemma, was in front of her, giving me a look that was part pleasure, part curiosity. She probably didn’t even understand how or why her uncle Will and I had broken up.

  “What are you all doing here?” I asked, even though it was obvious. Gemma had a bag of candy in hand and was happily chewing away.

  “Family outing,” Ken said. “We just stopped in to get a treat for our little Gemma.”

  The girl in question beamed. “Hi, Krissy! When are you coming over again?”

  “Hi, Gemma.” Tears came unbidden to my eyes. I blinked them rapidly away. “I don’t know. It might be a while longer.” I looked to the adults, hoping I could hold it together better with them. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

  “How are you doing, honey?” Maire asked. “I can’t believe Will would up and leave you like he did. I tried to talk him out of it, but do you think he’d listen to his mother? What job is worth the loss of love?” She shook her head angrily. “He had a good thing and threw it away.”

  Ken rested a hand on his wife’s shoulders. “I’m sure they’ve both made peace with it.”

  “I have,” I said. “There’s no hard feelings between us.” Without needing them to say it, I could tell they all felt the same about me.

  I truly did like Will’s family, but hadn’t seen them since he’d left Pine Hills for Arizona. The job was a big promotion for him, and I didn’t begrudge him for wanting to go.

  Still, I missed him; probably always would. But a big part of me had always known we wouldn’t work out.

  “Have you talked to Will lately?” Jade asked.

  “I haven’t.” He’d said he’d keep in touch, but with his new job, and my own life to keep up with, neither of us was making good on that promise. “But it’s okay. Life happens.”

  While Ken and Jade smiled, Maire wasn’t about to let her son off that easily. “He should do better,” she said.

  “We should get moving,” Ken said. “The movie starts in twenty minutes.”

  “It was good seeing you,” I said, accepting another hug from Maire, and surprisingly, one from Jade.

  “You stop by sometime,” Maire said as she allowed herself to be guided through the door. “I’ll make you a shepherd’s pie.”

  “I’ll do that,” I called after her. Ken and Gemma waved, and then, they were gone.

  I stared after them and a piece of my heart I didn’t know was wounded healed. They’d touched my life so briefly, yet they were once—and still were—an important part of it. I realized I should get ahold of Will to let him know I was doing okay and that I was happy.

  I hoped he was feeling the same way.

  “You look like you could use this.”

  I turned to find Jules offering me a chocolate. He was wearing an outlandish peppermint costume, all red and white stripes. When he worked, he often dressed up for the kids who frequented his store. He was a little less extravagant at home, at least in how he dressed. His personality was always a joy.

  “Thanks, Jules,” I said, taking the candy and popping it into my mouth. “It’s good.”

  He beamed. “I’m glad to see you’re on good terms with the Fosters. Breakups can be hard for everyone, not just the couple involved.”

  “It happened a long time ago.” Though, sometimes, it felt just like yesterday that Will and I’d broken up. Had it really been over a year now?

  “Well, still, it’s hard. Some people never get over losing someone they love, even if it is a mutually agreed upon parting.”

  I briefly wondered if he was talking about Rita, but realized he was still talking about me. I decided it was time to change the subject before he started inquiring about my current lack of a love life. He knew how I felt about Paul Dalton, even if I often pretended those feelings didn’t exist.

  “I was happy to see you at Eleanor’s funeral,” I said, picking up a bag of chocolates and laying it on the counter. “She would have liked that.”

  “I doubt that,” Jules said, but with good humor. “It’s sad she passed, but I have a feeling she wouldn’t have minded if I’d left town and never came back.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t like that.” I paused, considered, and then asked, “Did you know what happened to her brother, Wade?”

  Jules looked surprised by the question. “Eleanor had a brother? I never knew that.”

  “I did.” Lance Darby walked into the room from the back, looking like an extremely fit professional swimmer with his blond hair and slightly too tight shirt. “Hello, Krissy.”

  “Lance.”

  He moved to stand behind the counter with Jules. “He was murdered, right?”

  “He was. It happened in the mid-eighties.”

  “That’s why I didn’t know about it,” Jules said. “I didn’t live in Pine Hills back then. I didn’t move here until what? 1999?”

  “About then,” Lance said, grinning. Something passed between the two of them, and I knew it was something personal.

  “I was talking to Jane Winthrow about it, and it turns out Wade was dating Rita Jablonski at the time.”

  “Really?” Jules asked, eyes going wide. “I didn’t know she’d ever dated anyone.”

  “They did date, didn’t they?” Lance said. “I forgot about that. I was just a kid back then, but I vaguely remember hearing about the relationship. Everyone was talking about it, not that I understood what the fuss was about at my age. Still, it was a big enough deal, it stuck with me.”

  “People thought she was too young for him,” I said.

  “Or he was too old,” Lance added. “It’s a shame, that’s what it is. Who has the right to involve themselves in someone else’s life? Their relationship was between the two of them and their families. No one else should have cared.”

  Jules put an arm around Lance’s waist and squeezed. Lance returned the gesture, and some of the tension that had built up over the last few seconds seeped away.

  “Why the interest?” Jules asked. “If it happened so long ago, I mean.”

  “They never found who did it, did they?” Lance asked.

  “They didn’t. I figured I could look into it as a favor to Rita and Eleanor.”

  Lance reached across the counter and rested a hand on my wrist. “That’s kind of you.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do anything. It did happen over thirty years ago and no one really wants to talk about it.”

  “Do you think the killer still lives in Pine Hills?” Jules asked. He seemed to remember my bag of candy, scanned it in, and then took my money when I paid.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “They might. Or they might be dead. Even if I come up with a suspect, it’s not like I’ll find proof of the murder just lying around. The police think he was killed with a rock, but it wasn’t found at the scene. As far as I’m aware, nothing was stolen from him, but I suppose it’s possible.”

  “It wasn’t considered a big deal, was it?” Lance asked. “When it happened, there was a brief surge of interest, then nothing.”

  “That seems odd,” Jules said.

  Boy, did it. “There were a few stories about it in the paper, but little else. I was told that there wasn’t much of a push to solve the case.”

  “Do you think the police knew who did it?” Jules asked.

  It was a good question. While Albie Bruce hadn’t given me much to go on, he had pushed me in the direction of the Banyon Tree C
offee Drinkers. Did that mean he knew who killed Wade? Or did he only suspect?

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “I have some leads I’m going to follow up on. Hopefully, someone can tell me something useful. You’d think someone would have to know something, right?”

  Lance suddenly stood straighter. “Have you talked to the Bunfords?”

  “Ted and Bett? No, why?”

  He didn’t answer right away. His eyes were staring off into space and he was biting his lip, as if he were in deep thought.

  “I think . . .” he said, before trailing off. It took him another couple of good lip-chews before he continued. “I think they used to work with Wade.”

  “He worked at the bed-and-breakfast?” I asked.

  “No, this was before they opened Ted and Bettfast,” Lance said. “There used to be an arcade downtown where all the kids used to hang out. I used to go there all the time with my friends. It’s probably why I remember some of what went on. I knew Wade by sight.”

  I had a hard time imagining Ted or Bett Bunford working at an arcade. “You saw Wade with them there?” I asked.

  Lance shook his head. “It wasn’t there, but next door to it. What was it called?” He rubbed at his temples as if he could force the memory to come. “I can’t remember.” He dropped his hands. “I only remember because Wade worked there, so a lot of attention was focused that way for a time after his death.”

  “I’ll ask Ted and Bett about it,” I said, already dreading that encounter. If there was a competition about who disliked me the most, it would likely be a dead heat between Bett Bunford and Judith Banyon.

  “If I think of the name of the place, I’ll let you know,” Lance said. “I’m sure it’s not important. I’m not even sure if it will help you.”

  “I’m sure it will,” I said, picking up my bag of candy. “Thanks.”

  I left Phantastic Candies, thoughts racing. Could Wade’s murder have had anything to do with his job? Since I didn’t know what he did for a living, I couldn’t make that call. I definitely needed to pay the Bunfords a visit, but it would have to wait until after I’d talked to Larry Ritchie.

  Still, I had a little more time to kill, so when I got into my car, I dug into my candy and removed my phone. I considered briefly who to call, and then dialed.