The door opened and Rita walked in with both Andi Caldwell and Georgina McCully in her wake. There was a spring in all three of their steps, which was good to see.
“Hi, Rita,” I said, greeting them in turn. “Georgina. Andi.”
“Ah, Krissy, I’m so glad you’re here.” Rita hurriedly moved to the counter. “I was hoping we could talk a little about the you-know-what.”
Oh, I knew. “I could always take a break,” I said. “But if it gets busy again, I’ll have to go.”
“That’s fine.” Her gaze flickered to the menu board behind my head. “Can I get a vanilla latte?”
I looked at her in surprise. “I thought you didn’t like flavored coffees?”
She waved a dismissive hand my way. “That was ages ago. After that con we went to, I decided to expand my horizons a little. You can’t truly live without trying something new, or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
Rita, along with Vicki and I, had attended JavaCon a few months back. While the event had been plagued with a murder of its own, it had helped both Vicki and me run a better coffee shop. Apparently, it had done wonders for Rita as well.
“One vanilla latte coming up. What about Georgina and Andi?” The two older women were already seated, talking animatedly to one another.
“They’ll have the usual,” Rita said. “They aren’t nearly as adventurous as I am.”
I filled the order, adding two iced lattes to Rita’s hot vanilla latte. Rita carried her cup, while I took Andi and Georgina theirs. They thanked me and then fell silent, like they didn’t want me to overhear whatever they’d been gossiping about.
Rita took her seat and I sat in the last remaining chair, angling myself so I could keep an eye on the counter. Lena was still in the back, and while Jeff could run the front, he was upstairs with the books, which was busy today.
“Did you hear about Clifford Watson?” Rita asked the moment I was seated.
“I was there.” I felt myself pale at the memory.
“Really?” Rita’s eyes widened. I could see her file the information away for later gossip. “Now why on earth would you be at Cliff Watson’s home in the middle of the night?” Her eyes widened. “You weren’t—”
“No, I wasn’t,” I said, cutting her off. “He called me and said he needed to talk to me about Wade’s murder.”
Rita flinched ever so subtly. Georgina reached across the table and rested a hand on her wrist.
“Such a shame,” Andi muttered with a sad shake of her head.
“What did he say?” Rita asked.
“I never got a chance to talk to him,” I said. “Paul and I rushed straight to his place, but when we got there, he was already dead.”
Normally, Rita would have reacted to my mention of Paul Dalton, especially since my comment could be interpreted that we were together at the time, but she didn’t so much as twitch, let alone question me about the date. It said a lot about how this whole mess was affecting her.
“Cliff was a good man,” Georgina said. “He was prone to drinking, but he never got mean.”
“He only drank when he thought of his wife,” Andi said. “And even then, never to excess.”
“He’s married?” I asked. There’d been no indication that he lived with anyone, though I hadn’t actually seen the inside of his house.
“She died, what? Seven years back?” Georgina asked, looking to Andi.
“Eight, I think it was,” Andi replied. “Remember, that was when she was pushing to implement a smoking ban for the entirety of Pine Hills.”
“Would have had it, too, if she hadn’t died.” Georgina took a drink from her iced latte. “That woman could convince anyone of just about anything.”
“Might explain why Clifford married her instead of that other woman,” Andi said.
Georgina gave a knowing nod, but didn’t comment further.
“I can’t imagine why anyone would want to kill Cliff,” Rita said. “He and his wife were good people. I might not have known them as well as I should have, but I do know that.”
“How did she die?” I asked. If the circumstances of her death were suspicious, it could very well connect back to Cliff’s own murder.
“Heart attack,” Georgina answered. “Was marching in front of that old smoker’s place, screaming how the products they sold were killing everyone in town, and she just up and collapsed.”
There was no “smoker’s place” in Pine Hills now, which made me wonder if her protests hadn’t been entirely in vain.
“It had nothing to do with Cliff or Wade,” Rita said. “And I refuse to believe anyone we know could be responsible for their deaths, either. There has to be another explanation.”
“What about Hue Lewis?” Andi asked.
To my absolute shock, Rita’s face reddened. “Hue had nothing to do with Cliff’s death. Nor did he have an ill thing to say about Wade before or after his death and I won’t hear otherwise.”
Georgina’s mouth pressed into a fine line. She wanted to say something, but was keeping herself in check. Why?
Rita refused to look at me, choosing instead to stare into her vanilla latte. There was something she didn’t want to tell me, which made me need to know, especially since there was a good chance that whatever it was might connect to one, or both, of the murders.
“Rita?” I asked. “What does Hue have to do with anything?”
“It’s nothing, dear,” she said. “You can just forget you heard anything and focus on something else.” She shot an angry glare Andi’s way before taking a drink from her coffee.
“Nothing?” Andi asked. “We all know what happened between the two of you. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “What happened?”
Rita closed her eyes and sighed. “Well, you might as well tell her, Andi. But I’ll tell you now, Hue had nothing to do with Wade’s death. I’d swear my life on it.”
Andi glanced at Georgina, who nodded, as if telling her it was okay to take the lead, before she started speaking. She didn’t dally in getting to the point.
“Hue Lewis asked Rita out.”
“Out?” I asked. “As in, on a date?”
Andi nodded. “He was smitten. Those of us who saw them together could see it every time he looked her way. There was a gleam that came into his eye, a sparkle that lit up his entire face.”
“It was just a mild crush,” Rita said. “He wasn’t serious about me.”
“He was,” Andi corrected her. “But he was respectful to her wishes. When she turned him down, he let it drop right then and there.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Georgina said. “Way I heard it, Hue tried more than once to win Rita’s favor. Rumor says he even went to Wade and tried to get him to leave Rita. I bet he was hoping that if Wade was out of the picture, then Rita would give him a chance.”
“So, he asked you out while you were still dating Wade?” I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. She’d dated one older man, so did Hue think that she’d be willing to go out with another?
Rita heaved a sigh. “As I said, there was nothing to it. I told him I was taken and that was that.”
“How long before Wade was killed did this happen?” I asked.
Andi and Georgina looked to Rita for an answer, though I could tell both of them knew. They were going to make her say it, and I think they were doing it for her own good.
“Two weeks, give or take,” Rita said. She was clearly unhappy with the way the conversation had shifted. She might like to gossip about others, but she wasn’t a fan of being the target of it herself.
“Wasn’t that right around the time when Arthur Cantrell and Wade got into a fight?” I asked.
“It was,” Rita said. “But the events aren’t related. Hue was jealous that Wade found someone younger than him. He wanted the same thing, but couldn’t find anyone who interested him. So, he came on to me because I was convenient. It was flattering at the time, but I was faithful to Wade
, so nothing came of it.”
A memory surfaced. “Wait. Wasn’t Hue married at the time? I remember him saying something about hiding from his wife.”
Andi clucked her tongue. It was Georgina who answered.
“They didn’t have a very good relationship,” she said. “Everyone in town knew it. They fought often, and I heard they didn’t sleep in the same bed. It was no wonder he was looking for a way out.”
“Even if all of that was true, it had nothing to do with Wade’s death,” Rita said. “Hue doesn’t have it in him to hurt anyone.” She met my eye. “If you met him, then you know that.”
My first impression of Hue jibed with how Rita viewed him, but people did stupid things all of the time.
“Did Wade know about Hue asking you out?” I asked, thinking that if he had, there was a chance he’d instigated a fight that ended up costing him his life.
Rita shook her head. “Of course not, dear. It would have ruined their friendship, and I wasn’t about to do that over a silly lapse in judgment.”
“What about the others?” I asked. “If Georgina and Andi knew, could one of the Coffee Drinkers have known and told Wade?” If that was the case, and Arthur was the one who’d brought it up, it would explain why they’d fought.
“Oh, we didn’t know for certain that was how it happened,” Andi said. “We heard rumors and kept it to ourselves, didn’t we, Georgina?”
“We did,” Georgina said with a nod.
“Rita filled in the details years later.”
“I wish I wouldn’t have,” Rita muttered.
“Oh, we suspected much of it already,” Georgina said. “And we did manage to put a lot of it together long before Rita became our friend. Back then, we were nobody to her.”
My mind was racing, trying to connect the pieces. Just because Rita thought no one knew about Hue’s proposition, didn’t make it true. If what Georgina said was true, and Hue had gone to Wade to get him to leave Rita, then perhaps he’d also told him why he wanted them to break up. Could Wade have confronted him about it later? Or did Hue become jealous enough that he decided to remove Wade from the picture permanently?
I needed to talk to Hue again and ask him where he was last night. I was almost positive the person who killed Wade over thirty years ago was the same person who’d killed Cliff. I could be wrong, of course, but I didn’t think so.
“I’d better get back to work,” I said, rising. “Was there anything else you wanted to talk about before I go?”
Rita shook her head. When she looked up at me, she looked worn out, as if the conversation had drained her. “No, dear, I think that’s about it.”
“But—” Andi started, but the words died on her lips when both Georgina and Rita gave her warning looks.
I was tempted to pry. If there was something else they could tell me, something that would help me find the murderer, then I wanted to hear it.
But Rita had been through enough already. If it was important, I was sure she would tell me eventually.
I was headed back toward the counter when the door opened and Robert slunk in, head hanging. He dropped into the nearest chair and put his head in his hands.
Oh, no. I veered off and went to him, despite my instincts screaming at me to run the other way.
“Are you okay, Robert?” I asked, dreading the answer. Robert was a changed man from when I’d dated him, but I didn’t doubt that if he and Trisha were on the outs, he would try to worm himself back into my life.
“Krissy,” he said. He leaned back and took a deep breath. “I talked to Trisha like you said I should.”
I had to clamp down on the urge to yell at him—I didn’t tell him to do anything. “And?”
“She said maybe.”
“Maybe?” I asked. “That’s not a no.”
“No, but it’s close.” He lunged out of his chair and grabbed my hands. “What am I going to do if she says no?”
I pulled free of his grip and took a step back. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw all three of the women I’d just left leaning forward to listen, eager for something new to gossip about.
“If she says no, you move on with your life,” I said. “It might not even be the end of the relationship. She might not be ready. These things take time, Robert.”
“But how could we ever come back from a failed proposal?” Robert wailed, completely oblivious to the onlookers.
I took him by the arm and walked him across the room, up the three stairs, into the bookstore portion of Death by Coffee. Rita gave me a disapproving look, while both Andi and Georgina looked disappointed.
“Robert, you can’t force her into anything,” I said. “Your proposal might have caught her by surprise. She might say yes as early as tonight. Or she might need months to think about it. The only thing you can, and should, do now is wait and see what she decides.”
“But if she—”
“No buts. Treat her like you’ve been treating her. If she decides she doesn’t want to marry you, honor her wishes and let her go. If she decides she wants to wait for a few months before she makes up her mind, then let her do that. You won’t help by pressing her.”
Robert’s shoulders slumped and his head drooped. “I guess you’re right.”
“I am,” I said. “If you act like she’s ruined your life by telling you maybe, you’ll either make her say yes because she feels bad for you, or she’ll break it off completely. You don’t want either of those things to happen, right? You want her to marry you because she wants to, not because you guilt tripped her into it.”
“She’s all I’ve got,” Robert said.
“Trust that it’ll work out the way it’s supposed to,” I told him. I refused to let the cynical part of me surface, and to tell him it served him right for how he’d treated me. Robert was trying to be a good person and I had to respect that, even though my own memories of him weren’t so rosy.
“All right. I’ll try.”
“Good.” I patted him on the shoulder.
The door banged open downstairs and a voice rang out loud in the mostly quiet shop.
“I’m looking for Krissy Hancock! Where are you? We need to talk.”
I peered down, past the books, to find Lester Musgrave stalking near the counter, face red and angry. He turned away from the counter and, as if he had some sort of built-in radar, he looked directly at me. Our eyes met. His fists bunched.
And then he started my way.
18
Everyone in Death by Coffee was watching. Lena had come from the back, and Jeff had moved toward me, a hardback book in hand. If I asked him to, I was sure he’d happily use it as a weapon. Even Robert appeared ready to throw down if it came to a fight, though I had a feeling his bravado would fade the moment fists started flying.
It won’t come to that. I’d make sure of it.
“It’s all right,” I said, loud enough for everyone in the café to hear. “Go back to your coffees. We’re just going to talk.”
“Are you sure?” Robert spoke under his breath, his eyes never leaving Lester, who was nearing the stairs.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Go find Trisha. Try to have a normal day without worrying about whether or not she’ll say yes.” I gave him a reassuring smile and then turned my focus to the approaching older man.
Robert hesitated. He bit his lower lip and he looked between me and Lester, as if unsure he should leave me alone with the clearly irate man.
“Go,” I said, nudging him. “There’s nothing you can do here.”
Finally, he went.
Robert passed slowly by Lester, giving him the stink-eye the entire way. Lester didn’t notice. He kept his eyes on me, nostrils flaring. He was angry, obviously, but there was something else behind his gaze: hurt.
Lena raised her phone, a question on her face. I subtly shook my head, but was glad she was prepared. If Lester decided to do more than talk, not only would I have Jeff nearby to help fight him off, but Lena could have the cops here
in no time.
“Lester,” I said as he climbed the stairs and walked right up to me.
“You.” He leveled a trembling finger at me, shoving it within an inch of my nose. “This is your fault.”
I was pretty sure I knew what he was talking about, but wanted to hear it from him, just in case I was wrong and something else had happened. “What is?”
“You know what you did.” He took a step forward so that our noses nearly touched. When he spoke, I could feel his breath on my cheek, and noted a faint whiff of alcohol. “You just had to bring up old, painful wounds. And look what happened. Cliff’s dead because of you.”
I flinched, but didn’t back down. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to get anyone hurt. And I most definitely didn’t do anything to Cliff.”
“Bah!” Lester stepped back from me and ran a hand over his bald head as he turned his back to me. Down below, Rita and her crew were watching with interest, as was Lena, who had yet to set down her phone. I felt oddly exposed standing there.
“Please, Lester, let’s talk about this. I didn’t kill Cliff. I might have had a hand in his death by bringing up Wade’s murder, but that doesn’t mean I’m responsible for it. The killer needs to face justice, and I plan on making sure that happens.”
With his back to me, I couldn’t see how Lester was taking my words. He kept rubbing his head, shoulders hunched as if against a blow. As far as I knew, he was revving himself up to strike a woman in the middle of her own store.
Taking a chance, I stepped forward and rested a hand on his shoulder. He tensed, but didn’t jerk away. “I’m sorry about Cliff. I know he was your friend. He seemed like a good man.”
“He was.” It came out choked, almost whispered.
“Please, let’s sit and talk.”
Lester let me guide him away from the stairs, toward the couch and chairs we kept upstairs for readers. No one was there now, for which I was thankful. It put us out of easy view of the onlookers downstairs, but not so far out of the way that they wouldn’t notice something amiss if Lester decided to choke me out. I motioned for Jeff to leave us be, and he did so with one last worried look.
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