Death by French Roast

by Alex Erickson

  Downstairs, a handful of customers came in, which would hopefully distract the looky-loos further. Lester collapsed onto the couch with a heavy sigh. The tension seemed to rush straight out of him—and the room—as he did.

  “I’m sorry if I gave you a fright,” he said. “I was just so angry and there was no one else I could yell at. You made a convenient target.”

  “It’s okay.” I sat down across from him. “Trust me, I feel guilty for what happened to Cliff. But believe me when I say I never wanted it to happen, and I plan on making it right somehow.”

  “I know.” He looked up and smiled. Most of the anger was gone. The pain had taken over. “It’s been a rough couple of days, and once I heard what happened, well, I guess I kind of snapped.”

  “You were close?”

  Lester nodded. “Cliff and I didn’t always get along, or see eye to eye on most matters, but what friends do?” His laugh was hollow. “He was never the same, you know? After Wade died, Cliff pulled within himself, became semi-isolated from everyone. He rarely left his house. He even started missing our morning meetings until I forced him to come back.”

  “Do you know why he changed?”

  “I wish I did. I asked him about it at least twice a week for the last thirty years. I always figured he blamed himself for what happened to Wade. I don’t mean I think he killed him, but that he thought he should have been there for him. I think we all felt the same way, but Cliff took it the hardest.”

  “He called me the night of his death,” I said. “He claimed he had information on Wade’s murder.”

  Lester stared at me. I couldn’t read his face, whether he was afraid or angry or in disbelief. His eyes were rimmed in red, his ears the same.

  After a moment, he made a slashing motion with his hand. “Cliff had nothing to do with Wade’s death and I won’t listen to anyone who says differently.”

  “But he might have known who did.”

  “Cliff Watson never hurt a soul.” This time, there was some heat in his voice. “If I ever even suspect you plan on smearing his name, I will . . .” He trailed off and looked away.

  “If he’s innocent, then you have nothing to worry about.” I leaned forward, forced him to look at me. “Do you know what Cliff might have wanted to tell me?”

  Lester shook his head, but his eyes strayed from mine.

  He’s lying. “Lester, please. If you know something . . .”

  “I don’t. Not really.” He closed his eyes and knuckled them with the back of his hands hard enough it had to hurt. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “What doesn’t?” I kept my voice soft, friendly. He knew something, as, I was starting to believe, did the rest of the Coffee Drinkers. I wasn’t sure if it was a big conspiracy or if they’d made deductions over the years. Either way, I needed to know what it was they knew.

  “I wasn’t entirely honest with you when we talked at the Banyon Tree,” he said, dropping his hands into his lap. “I didn’t know you—still don’t—and I never liked that harlot Wade was seeing, so I saw no reason to go spreading rumors.”

  My gaze flickered downstairs to where Rita sat to make sure she hadn’t heard. She was deep in conversation with Georgina and Andi, though I noted she’d look my way every now and again. She knew what the conversation was about, and I was positive she was dying to know what Lester was saying.

  I prayed she’d stay downstairs, out of Lester’s line of sight. He’d been too intent on me to notice Rita sitting there when he’d first come in, but I doubted he’d fail to notice her if she came storming upstairs, demanding to be filled in.

  “What rumors?” I asked, turning my attention back to him.

  “You know how we said Zachary and I left together the day Wade died?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, while it was true enough, we didn’t stick together after we walked out the door.”

  “You went separate ways?”

  “We did.” Lester’s fists clenched. “I headed to work, but Zachary begged off. Asked me to cover for him, and like a fool, I did just that.”

  “Do you know where Zachary went?” I tried to keep the excitement out of my voice, but I couldn’t help it. Finally, it felt like I was getting somewhere.

  “How should I know.” Lester’s anger flared, then died. “All I know is, I watched him walk away, and a few minutes later, Cliff came strolling out of the Banyon Tree, heading the same way.”

  “Didn’t he say he was sick that day?”

  “I’m sure he was,” Lester said. “And he did appear to be heading home, but I had no idea what Zachary was doing.”

  “You don’t think the two of them had plans, do you?”

  Lester lowered his head. He was muttering something, but I couldn’t make out the words.

  “Lester?”

  He glanced up, scowled, and then looked back down.

  “Lester? Do you believe Zachary and Cliff had plans to do something together?” What I really wanted to ask was if they had gone after Wade, but figured that would only set off the volatile man.

  “I don’t know what they did,” he snapped, head jerking upward. His eyes were blazing. “And I never pried. I will tell you that neither man had it in him to kill Wade back then, and I’m damn sure Zachary wouldn’t have killed Cliff now.”

  “What about Arthur?” I asked.

  “What about him?”

  “When we last talked, I noticed how he looked at you, like he thought you knew something.” Or they were sharing a secret.

  Lester snorted. “Arthur thinks he knows everything. I probably told him about Zachary and Cliff wandering off together once. Might have implied I thought something happened between them. Luckily, they married women, and it came to nothing.”

  I ground my teeth together to keep from calling him out on his prejudices. I still found it hard to believe people still thought that way, even today.

  “Do you think Arthur came to believe they might have killed Wade?” I asked.

  “Who knows?” Lester shrugged. “Probably does. Probably thinks it was justified.”

  “And you?”

  “Wade got what he had coming to him. None of us disputes that. Even the law was on our side. The cops know when it’s a rightful, just killing. And the guy who investigated Wade’s death was no different.”

  “Jay Miller,” I said.

  “He knew what kind of mess Wade was causing with his antics. He should have locked that Rita woman up long before Wade was killed. It would have changed things, I’m sure.”

  “Do you think Jay Miller knew who killed Wade and covered it up?” I asked, refusing to get into it with him about Rita. It would help nothing, and would only make me angry.

  “If he did, who cares?” Lester leaned forward. “What matters now is that Cliff is dead. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop asking questions, stop prying into things that you have no business involving yourself in. I don’t want no one else to die, you hear me?”

  “Is that a threat?”

  His smile looked more like a wolf’s grin. “If that’s how you want to take it, then be my guest.” He stood. “Stay out of it. Stay away from us. I don’t want to lose any more friends because of you, or any other woman.”

  He made as if he might walk away, but I had one more question for him.

  “Who’s Madeline Watson?”

  Lester stopped in his tracks. “You leave Madeline alone.”

  “Just tell me who she is. Her name was mentioned to me and I’m curious to know how she fits in.” If at all.

  Lester turned slowly to face me. His expression was stone. Cold. “Madeline has nothing to do with any of this.”

  “I never said she did,” I said. “I just want to know who she is in relation to Cliff.”

  “She’s his sister.” Lester’s face broke. Behind his anger, he truly was hurting. A man like Lester didn’t like to show it, but it was there. “Was his sister. She’s a good woman. She doesn’t need any of this
coming back on her.”

  “She’ll be told of Cliff’s death,” I said. “No one can protect her from that.”

  “She doesn’t need to know why he died,” he said. “I don’t want you telling her. She doesn’t need that falling on her shoulders. She’s already been through enough.”

  It was obvious by the tone of his voice, how he spoke of Madeline, that Lester cared deeply for her. I had a feeling it went beyond mere friendship.

  “You love her,” I said, not meaning to speak, but it slipped out anyway.

  Lester blinked twice rapidly before turning away. “Leave her alone.”

  He walked away without looking at anyone in the room. Rita watched him go, curiosity written all over her face. The moment he was through the doors, her gaze swept to me, but I wasn’t ready to discuss my conversation with her, or anyone else.

  I returned to work and busied myself the best I could, but my mind was on anything but my job.

  Lester might not think Cliff had anything to do with Wade’s death, but I wasn’t so sure. He didn’t know Cliff had returned to the Banyon Tree later that day, looking shaken. Maybe Cliff and Zachary hadn’t made plans to get together. Maybe Cliff had been completely honest with everyone and had intended to go home, just like he’d said.

  But instead of making it there, he ended up watching one of his friends murder another.

  19

  The rest of the workday was thankfully uneventful. Lena was replaced by Beth, and I went ahead and sent Jeff home since business had died down to a crawl with no sign of it picking back up before close. Vicki was coming in for a few hours with Mason, who was now a full-time partner at Death by Coffee, to relieve me.

  “Well?” Vicki asked as soon as she was through the door.

  “Well what?”

  “How was your date?”

  “Good, right up until we found a dead guy.”

  “You were there?” Mason asked. He pulled on an apron and then spun in a circle, as if looking for something.

  “Yeah.” I told them what happened as quickly as I could. “But Paul did agree to come to the triple date with the Yows if you still want us there?”

  “Why wouldn’t we?” Vicki asked.

  “Because every time I spend any time with Paul at all, someone seems to die?”

  “She’s right,” Mason said. “We should probably leave the country, just to be safe.”

  “We could ship her to Russia instead,” Vicki said, barely hiding her grin. “No sense in us leaving because she’s bad luck.”

  “Ha, ha,” I deadpanned. “You’d miss me if I was gone.”

  “Of course we would.” Vicki put an arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “Who else could we tease like this?”

  “We’ll see both you and Paul next weekend,” Mason said.

  “I’ll let him know, but it’s your heads.”

  Vicki laughed. “I think we’ll be okay, but we’ll be sure to warn Charlie and Sadie just the same.”

  I finished up stocking a fresh batch of cookies, and then took off my apron. “If you don’t need me, I think I’m going to head home.”

  “We have this,” Mason said. “Go home and relax. You look like you need it.”

  Boy, did I ever. “Thanks.” I gathered my things, but before I left, I headed upstairs to where Beth was straightening the books. “How are you holding up?” I asked her.

  “I’m good.” She flashed me a smile. “Thanks.”

  “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

  She nodded, and then went back to work.

  I watched her a moment, concerned. When I’d first met her, I’d pegged her as something of a fake. Working for Raymond Lawyer, I guess she had no choice but to pretend to be happy since he was always so hard on everyone. If she’d pouted around the office, I was sure he would have screamed at her loud enough for the entire town to hear.

  But now that I’d spent more time with her, I realized Beth was just as insecure as the rest of us. She wanted to fit in, wanted to be normal, but wasn’t quite sure how to go about doing so. Coming to work for me had helped. She acted far more natural now than she ever did when working for Raymond.

  But with him badgering her about leaving his employ, I was afraid she’d pull into herself, or revert to the shallow woman he’d made her out to be.

  I left her without pressing her about it and got in my car to drive home. I figured I could have an early dinner and then see if I could get hold of Zachary Ross and Hue Lewis to get their takes on what I’d learned about the both of them. The only other Coffee Drinker I had yet to talk to one-on-one was Roger Wills. His name had yet to come up in any of my conversations, which I hoped was a good sign. I was tired of suspecting everyone around me every time someone died.

  Still, I planned on finding time to talk to him anyway. Roger might not be involved in the murder, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know someone who was.

  I passed a car parked at the side of the road near my house. No one was in the car, or else I would have stopped to see if the driver needed help. You didn’t find abandoned cars out my way all that often, but it did happen on occasion.

  Jane Winthrow was just leaving her mom’s house when I pulled up in front of my own place. I waved to her before fumbling with my keys. She honked once as she drove off. I wondered how she was doing with packing up her mom’s things, and made a mental note to pay her a visit soon to check. As I moved to insert my key into the lock, I noticed the door wasn’t completely closed.

  My heart skipped a beat and then started racing. I knew for a fact I’d locked the door this morning. I always double-checked before I left.

  I removed my phone from my purse and readied Paul’s number, just in case. I eased the door open and peered inside, but couldn’t see anyone from where I stood. Misfit wasn’t sitting in the entryway waiting to make his grand escape, either.

  “Hello?” I called. “Anyone in there?”

  “Come on in, Ms. Hancock. No need to call the police.”

  A scream tried to rip from my throat. I managed to keep it to a startled yelp, but just barely. “Why shouldn’t I?” I asked, staying right where I was. There was no way I was going to go inside. “Who are you? And why are you in my house?”

  There was a groan as my unwelcome visitor stood from my couch. He strode into view. The sight of him caused me to take an abrupt step back.

  He was a tall man, eyes dark as flint. His hair was shaved close to his scalp, and despite his age—I’d put him in his late fifties—he was lean with muscle.

  “My name is Jay Miller. You’ve been asking around about me.”

  “The cop?” My mouth ran before my mind could catch up with it. Of course he’s the cop.

  Jay merely smiled. I wasn’t comforted by it in the slightest.

  “What are you doing in my house?” I demanded, anger slowly replacing my fear. “You have no right to break in.”

  He moved forward so suddenly, I scuttled back off my front stoop before I could catch myself. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

  “Better?”

  “Not really, no,” I said. “I should call the police right now.” My thumb was still poised over the CALL button. I made sure he could see it there, just in case he had foul intent.

  “For what? I was merely waiting for you.”

  “You broke into my house!”

  “A minor infraction at best. Nothing was stolen or damaged. I waited for you, you arrived, and now I’ll say my piece.” He moved closer. This time, I held my ground. “Keep out of it. Wade Fink is better off dead. The whole town improved once he was gone, and no one wants someone like you digging up old graves.”

  “Afraid I might find something among the dirt?” I asked.

  That sinister smile returned. “Watch yourself, Ms. Hancock. I wouldn’t want something to happen to you.”

  He pushed past me and strode down my driveway, toward the abandoned car I’d seen parked at the side of the road. I
watched him go, my entire body quivering with both outrage and fear. How dare he threaten me in my own house!

  As soon as he was gone, I hit CALL. Paul picked up after the second ring.

  “Paul,” I practically gasped his name, “I just got home and when I tried to unlock the door, I found it was already open. Someone broke into my house. In fact, he was still there.”

  “What?” He sounded so startled, I almost laughed. “I’m on the way.”

  “No, he’s gone.” I took a deep breath, which I was proud to note, only trembled slightly. “He showed up to warn me off of looking into Wade’s death.”

  “Do you know who it was?”

  “Yeah. He even introduced himself. Said he was Jay Miller.”

  “The former cop?”

  “The same.” A new thought hit me and I rushed through the front door. “Oh, no, Misfit.”

  “Did he—” The rest was lost as I lowered the phone and started searching for my cat.

  A meow from down the hall had me racing toward the laundry room. The door was closed, which it never was since Misfit’s litter box was in there. I jerked open the door to find him sitting just inside, glaring at me like he blamed me for his current predicament.

  “He’s okay,” I said, sagging against the wall. “Paul, he’s okay.”

  “That’s good. Tell me what happened.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” I said. “I came home and Jay was sitting in my living room like he owned the place. He told me to back off and then left.”

  “Nothing is missing?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to check, but I don’t think he came in here to steal anything. At least, he said he didn’t.”

  Paul was silent a long time before he asked, “Do you want to press charges? You caught him in the act, and while we can’t hit him for much, maybe we can scare him a little. Besides, I wouldn’t mind paying him a little visit.” There was genuine anger in his voice.

  I thought about it for a moment before I said, “No, that won’t be necessary.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”