by Jinty James
“Like Claudine.” Suzanne nodded her head, her ponytail swinging wildly. “Yeah, I’d like to interrogate that woman.”
“I know you would,” Maddie said wryly.
“Mrrow!” Trixie agreed.
“So why don’t we question Claudine first? She’s nearby. And then—” Suzanne scanned the list “—we could go to Aunt Winifred on Tuesday to see Jill.”
“Good idea.” Maddie nodded. “We were going to visit Jill on Tuesday anyway, remember? Before Dave Dantzler was found ... dead.”
“Yeah.” Suzanne’s ponytail bobbed. “So it won’t look very strange if we go to see her. And Bob, the other coffee vendor, lives near there, doesn’t he? We could stop by his place too, and kill two birds with one stone.” As soon as the words popped out of her mouth, she looked regretful.
“And don’t forget Claudine is getting a massage tomorrow with Ramon,” Maddie said. “I think it’s at four o’clock.”
“That’s right.” Suzanne snapped her fingers. “So we’ll visit her tomorrow morning during one of our quiet times.”
“Mrrow,” Trixie agreed.
“Do you want to come with us, Trix?” Maddie asked. “I don’t know how Claudine will react if you enter her coffee shop with us, though.”
Trixie looked as if she were pondering the question. Maddie wondered if the cat remembered the only time she’d been in Claudine’s café, as if her sole purpose there was to meet Maddie for the first time.
Trixie scrunched up her face seemingly in regret. “Broomf,” she sounded disappointed.
“I think that’s the right decision,” Maddie said, stroking Trixie’s white fur. “I don’t want Claudine scaring you in any way. But you can come to work with us in the truck and stay there while we visit Claudine tomorrow.”
“Mrrow.” Trixie seemed agreeable to the idea.
“You know,” Suzanne remarked, “I’m pretty sure I followed all that. I don’t blame you, Trixie, for not wanting to enter that horrible woman’s café.”
Maddie picked up the suspect list. “We’ll have to work out when we interview these other people, too.” She tapped the piece of paper with her short fingernail. “There’s still the judge, the newspaper reporter, and the older married couple you met in line while buying our lunch.”
“That’s right.” Suzanne nodded. “We should be able to find out more about the couple either tomorrow or Tuesday, when we visit Jill and Bob.”
Maddie was silent for a moment.
“What?” Suzanne asked.
“There weren’t many entrants in the coffee competition,” Maddie said at last, “if these are the only suspects we have. What if the competition in the big Seattle contest next month is stiff? Way too stiff for me? What if I make horrible coffee and embarrass myself?”
“You won’t,” Suzanne said, patting Maddie’s arm. “I told you I have faith in you, Mads. Just because there weren’t many entrants to beat yesterday doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to compete in Seattle. Your coffee is amazing. Besides,” Suzanne said, “the organizers of the Seattle competition don’t have a problem with the winner of yesterday’s coffee festival competing in their big contest. So you shouldn’t, either.”
“Thanks.” Maddie smiled at her friend. Suzanne was right. Sometimes she needed to have more faith in herself.
After a minute, Maddie said, “But do you think yesterday will affect business tomorrow? What if word’s gotten out that the radio personality died holding one of our cups – and drinking the cappuccino I made him?”
“Hmm.” Suzanne drummed her finger on her lips. “Of course, they’re idiots if they think that’s true. On the other hand, business might be even better – everyone checking out the coffee vendor who might be implicated in his death.” At Maddie’s stricken look, she rushed to add, “I shouldn’t have put it like that – sorry. But people will probably be curious about it all – if they’ve heard anything – and maybe we’ll get some new customers. Once they’ve tasted your coffee and no harm’s come to them, I bet they’ll be back for more.”
“I hope so,” Maddie replied.
“And as soon as Detective Edgewater tells us you’re in the clear officially, we can tell our customers, and I’ll bet they’ll tell their friends, and business will be back to normal, or even better – which will make it the new normal.”
“Mrrow,” Trixie agreed.
“Fingers crossed.” Maddie tried to smile.
THAT EVENING, MADDIE drove Trixie and Suzanne to Maddie’s parents’ house.
Maddie fed Trixie before they left, and Trixie behaved perfectly, sitting in the guest armchair in the living room while the adults ate dinner in the dining room. Although Trixie had only visited Maddie’s parents a couple of times previously, she seemed to instinctively know that Maddie’s mother would be uncomfortable if she wandered around the dining room, or sat on one of the dining room chairs.
Mrs. Goodwell complimented Maddie on Trixie’s behavior, before delving into the subject that had apparently been a hot topic in the Goodwell household that day – the sudden death of radio personality Dave Dantzler.
“Of course, I know you two didn’t have anything to do with it,” Mrs. Goodwell assured Maddie and Suzanne as they dug into their dessert of homemade apple pie. The main course of her mother’s special meatloaf wrapped in crispy bacon had been gratefully received by them, as well as by Maddie’s dad.
“How did you hear about it?” Maddie asked when she’d swallowed her mouthful.
“It was in the newspaper this morning,” her mother told them.
Maddie and Suzanne looked at each other with wide eyes. Neither of them bought a newspaper, reasoning they could always catch up with news on TV or online.
“Oh,” Maddie said.
“Don’t worry,” Mr. Goodwell spoke, looking up from his dessert plate. “I’m sure the sheriff’s department will catch the killer.”
“Just like they did last month when your customer died,” Mrs. Goodwell added. “The report was very tasteful, actually. Just that the poor man died at the coffee festival and the sheriff was investigating.”
“Did it say anything else?” Maddie asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.
“Oh.” Her mother waved her hand in the air, as if what she was about to say was of no import. “Only that he was holding one of your coffee cups when he died.”
Maddie stifled an “Eek!”
“Is that all?” Suzanne asked.
“Yes, dear.” Mrs. Goodwell nodded.
“Do you still have the article?” Suzanne persisted.
“Why, yes,” Mrs. Goodwell replied. “It’s in the kitchen if you’d like to take a look at it later.”
“Thanks, Mom. Maybe we should read it.”
“Definitely,” Suzanne agreed.
After dinner, Maddie and Suzanne headed toward the kitchen. They pored over the newspaper article.
“Look,” Suzanne said. “It’s written by Walt, the same reporter who accompanied the judge and Dave yesterday and who interviewed us.”
“You’re right,” Maddie replied. “I wish he hadn’t mentioned Dave was holding one of our coffee cups, though.”
“But at least he didn’t include anything else about you – us.”
“Like the fact that Detective Edgewater said Dave had cappuccino foam on his lips? That could very well be my cappuccino foam?” Maddie asked gloomily.
“Well – yeah.” Suzanne looked downcast for a moment.
“Now that I really am implicated in Dave’s death, it makes it even more important we find out who did it.” Maddie straightened her shoulders. “If everyone in town reads this article, we mightn’t have any customers at all tomorrow.”
“And Claudine might have tons.” Suzanne grimaced. “Our customers. The sooner we start questioning people, the better.”
CHAPTER 8
The next day, Trixie accompanied Maddie and Suzanne to work. To Maddie’s relief, their usual morning crowd was there, albei
t a bit thinner than usual.
But apparently, joggers weren’t fussy who they bought their bottles of water from. Sweaty, panting runners seemed happy to hand over their money for some cold water, as they staggered over the green lawn of the town square to prop themselves up on the counter of Brewed from the Bean.
“It’s been good so far,” Suzanne said during their first lull. “I know we’re down by a few customers, but considering that newspaper article—”
“I know.” Maddie sighed.
“But at least it gives us a chance to interrogate Claudine.” A dangerous gleam appeared in Suzanne’s eyes. “I think we should go over there right now.”
“Mrrow.” Trixie seemed to agree.
Maddie gazed around the truck. Trixie sat up straight on her stool, looking interested in what she and Suzanne were discussing. There were no potential customers outside. Her friend was right – now was probably the perfect time to question their first suspect.
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
Maddie locked the truck, making sure the window was open for Trixie. “We won’t be long, Trix.”
The feline stretched out on the stool and yawned, looking like she was getting ready for a snooze.
“Lucky her,” Suzanne said with a smile. “Sometimes I wish I could have a nap whenever I wanted to.”
“Me too,” Maddie replied with feeling. She usually got up at 6.30 a.m. on workdays. Sunday was the only day she got to sleep late. What would it be like to be a cat and relax whenever you felt like it?
“I’ll have to make a batch of health balls later,” Suzanne remarked as they walked across the town square toward Claudine’s coffee shop. “I didn’t get up early today and make some before we opened.” She looked guilty at her confession.
“No worries.” Maddie smiled at her friend. “You know I don’t expect you to go above and beyond to make them.”
“I know, but—” Suzanne sighed, “—now I’m used to the extra profit they’ve been giving us.”
“Me too,” Maddie said ruefully. If this morning’s custom set a new precedent for their business, did that mean they’d have to pay themselves a slightly lower wage every week?
Ever since Suzanne had come up with the idea of making health balls last month, they’d been making a respectable profit on them every day. It had also been her idea in the beginning to sell bottled water to early morning joggers. It was amazing how many exercise enthusiasts didn’t carry water on them and were happy to pay for it.
They reached Claudine’s café and looked at each other.
“Let’s go in together.” Maddie took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
They walked side by side into the café, noting that it was just under half full. Maddie recognized some of her customers, who looked a little embarrassed at being caught in there. Not many people in Estherville seemed to like Claudine’s coffee, so why was she still in business? It was a mystery Maddie had often pondered ever since she’d quit working for the older woman.
“There’s Mrs. Jones,” Suzanne murmured as they made their way to the counter. “And Mr. Dunbabbin.”
“It’s a free country,” Maddie said mildly, although she was disappointed that two of their regular customers were now patronizing Claudine’s café.
Suzanne didn’t answer, letting the frown on her face speak for her.
“Maddie and Suzanne.” Claudine’s whining nasal voice went straight through Maddie’s ears and she suppressed a wince.
“Claudine,” Suzanne coolly greeted the older woman.
“What can I do for you?” Claudine smirked. “Some coffee?” She gestured to the occupied tables. “You might have to wait a few minutes though – I’ve got customers to serve!”
“We just wanted to ask you a few questions,” Maddie said.
“Oh?” Claudine’s gaze sharpened. “Shouldn’t you be in jail, Maddie?”
“What are you implying?” Suzanne squared her shoulders.
“What was obvious to the newspaper reporter when he reported the radio personality’s murder,” Claudine returned. “He was found holding one of your coffee cups.”
“First of all, we haven’t been told it’s murder. But if it was, the killer could have staged that part,” Suzanne said hotly. “Maybe you’re the killer, Claudine. You could have dug out one of our coffee cups from the trash and shoved it in his hand right after you did the deed in order to frame Maddie.”
Maddie’s eyes widened at her friend’s accusation. She and Suzanne hadn’t discussed how they were going to handle the interview with Claudine, but she hadn’t expected Suzanne to accuse the older woman of murder!
“What about the cappuccino foam on Dave Dantzler’s lips?” Claudine countered, her hands on her hips. “The detective seemed to think it was yours.”
“That’s not proven.” Maddie found her voice. “Anyone who knows me will realize I couldn’t do something like that.”
“No?” Claudine gestured to her semi-occupied café. “That’s not what these people think. I’ve got some new customers today. They’re obviously scared about what you would put in their coffee.”
“Take that back!” Suzanne ordered.
“Did you see anything suspicious around the time the judge announced the winner?” Maddie decided to plow on with her questions and ignore Suzanne and Claudine’s antagonism.
“No.” Claudine shook her head. “Only you and this one—” she pointed to Suzanne “—right at the front of the crowd, as if you knew you were going to win.” The last words were hissed.
“Anyone who’s tasted Maddie’s coffee knew she had a great chance at winning.” Suzanne rolled her eyes, as if to say, “Well, duh.”
“So you didn’t see anyone loitering around the judge’s tent?” Maddie persisted.
“No,” Claudine snapped. “I told you, I didn’t see anyone besides you two.”
“How did your interview go with Dave and the newspaper reporter?” Maddie held her breath as she waited for the older woman to answer. By the scowl on her face, she wasn’t sure if Claudine would answer.
“Fine,” Claudine bit out.
“But Dave didn’t ask you for a free cappuccino, did he?” Suzanne asked.
For a moment it looked like Claudine wouldn’t reply.
“No, he didn’t,” Claudine finally said. “More fool him.”
“I think that’s all,” Maddie said, not wanting the daggers in Claudine’s coal black eyes to pierce her.
“I don’t want you girls coming in here again unless you want to buy something,” Claudine snapped.
“As if we would,” Suzanne retorted.
“Let’s go, Suze.” Maddie tugged on Suzanne’s arm, gesturing to the entrance. “Thanks, Claudine.”
It cost her to thank the older woman, but after all, Claudine could have refused to answer any of their questions. But was she telling them the truth? She and Suzanne would have to discuss that possibility later.
“Phew!” Suzanne said once they were outside and heading back to the coffee truck. “I don’t know what gets into me when I see that woman.”
“I do,” Maddie said wryly. “But who knows – maybe her massage with Ramon today will make her less grumpy.”
“I don’t know how I feel about that,” Suzanne admitted. “He was really kind to book an appointment with her, but I don’t know if I want to think about his hands – his magic hands – touching her.”
“Magic?” Maddie quirked an eyebrow.
“You know what I mean. Not magic magic – at least I don’t think so.” Suzanne stared at Maddie, her eyes wide. “Do you think he’s—”
“I don’t know.” Maddie shrugged.
“Can you sense anything when you’re around him?” Suzanne asked curiously. “Like he’s got witchy abilities the same as you?”
“No.” Maddie shook her head. “But I’ve never sensed that about anyone I’ve met. And I don’t feel like I’ve got magical abilities. It’s hard to describe.” She exhaled. “I
feel normal except for when I cast the Coffee Vision spell, and when I cast the Tell the Truth spell. When the spell works, I know it deep inside. But otherwise, I feel completely normal – and human.”
“Huh.” Suzanne looked thoughtful.
By this time, they reached the truck.
“We’re back, Trixie.” Maddie opened the door and stepped inside. The feline was still stretched out on the stool, lying on her back, her white furry tummy inviting Maddie to reach out and stroke her.
But Maddie knew from experience that Trixie was ticklish there, and the cat didn’t really want anyone to touch her – it was as if she played a game with Maddie.
“Mrrow,” Trixie greeted them sleepily, slowly blinking her eyes awake.
“You were right not to go with us.” Suzanne flopped on the stool next to the cat. “Claudine is such a witch – oops.” She covered her mouth. “I shouldn’t haven’t said that.”
“No,” Maddie said, amusement in her voice.
But Trixie didn’t seem to take the faux pas so well, sitting up and looking disapprovingly at Suzanne.
“Sorry, Trixie,” Suzanne said. “And Maddie.”
“I know what you meant,” Maddie said with a smile. “But I don’t think Trixie did.”
“Yeah.” Suzanne held out her hand to the cat, then slowly petted her, Trixie allowing the caress. “I think we’re good though.”
“Looks like it,” Maddie replied. She opened the serving window and peered out at the town square. “No customers in the vicinity.”
“Hopefully we’ll get the usual lunchtime crowd.” Suzanne pulled out her phone. “Maybe I should make a list and go to the grocery store while it’s quiet. I can whip up a batch of health balls and they might be ready for our lunch customers.”
“Good idea. And when you come back, we can discuss whether Claudine was telling the truth or not.”
“Do you think she was lying?” Suzanne looked up from her phone and frowned.
“It’s a possibility. After all, she didn’t have to answer our questions. You know how she feels about us.”