by Jinty James
“And how we feel about her.”
“Mrrow!”
“But she said she didn’t see anyone around the judging tent – except us,” Suzanne said.
“Do you think that’s true?” Maddie asked.
“I don’t know. But why would she lie?”
“To cast more suspicion on me?” Maddie gnawed her lip. “Or do you think I’m being paranoid?”
“No way.” Suzanne shook her head, her ponytail bobbing. “You’ve got every right to be suspicious of Claudine – and her answers. Don’t forget, she told Detective Edgewater that you killed Dave.”
“Yeah,” Maddie said ruefully.
“Have you got your suspect list?” Suzanne asked.
“Yep.” Maddie dug it out of her purse.
“We better write down what she said,” Suzanne suggested. “So we don’t forget.”
“That’s a good point.” Maddie made a notation on the piece of paper. “Maybe I should type it up on the laptop when I get home tonight – I don’t think this is going to be big enough if we write down everyone’s answers on it.”
“Mrrow,” Trixie said approvingly.
Suzanne went to the grocery store to buy ingredients for the health balls, and Maddie took care of the few customers who arrived in the meantime.
When Suzanne came back with a shopping bag bulging with ingredients, she had a grin on her face.
“Maple macadamia. My own recipe.”
Maddie’s stomach growled as if on cue. “That sounds delicious.”
“They will be.”
Suzanne set to work, shooing Maddie away when she tried to help. “I’ve got this.”
Since there weren’t any more customers to serve, Maddie sat down on the stool next to Trixie. Suzanne hadn’t made this combination before and she was curious to see how it would turn out.
She didn’t have to wait long. Suzanne blitzed the ingredients in the food processor, rolled them into small balls, and coated them in shredded coconut.
“Ta da!” Suzanne held out the tray to Maddie. Twenty-four morsels sat neatly on the baking sheet. “What do you think?”
“They look great,” Maddie said truthfully, her tummy rumbling once more. “When will they be ready to eat?”
“In one hour. I’ll put them in the fridge to firm up.”
Trixie looked at the tray, her eyes wide, and tentatively put out one paw, as if to touch one of the balls.
“Not for cats, Trix.” Suzanne held up the baking sheet so Trixie couldn’t reach it. “Sorry.”
“Broomf.” Trixie put down her paw and pouted.
“I brought your dry food with me, Trixie.” Maddie pulled out the bag of food from a cupboard. “Would you like your lunch now?”
“Mrrow,” Trixie said grudgingly as if she didn’t quite believe that the health balls could be bad for her.
Maddie poured the hard-little pellets - salmon and tuna flavor - into Trixie’s bowl, the food making a rattling noise.
“There you go.”
Trixie sniffed the bowl, then deigned to eat a few mouthfuls, her teeth audibly crunching the hard little brown pellets.
“Maybe we should have our lunch now,” Maddie suggested, looking out through the serving hatch. “Still no customers.”
“I am getting hungry, although it’s only 11.30.” Suzanne checked her watch. “The lunch rush usually doesn’t start ‘til noon, so the maple macadamia balls will be ready by 12.30. I bet we’re going to sell out by this afternoon.”
“I hope so,” Maddie replied. Suzanne’s new recipe would definitely help their bottom line, and she was looking forward to trying one.
They’d both brought sandwiches from home, and they ate them in the truck. Maddie made a mocha for both of them for dessert while they waited to sample the maple macadamia balls.
“So tomorrow,” Suzanne said after finishing her coffee, “we’ll visit Jill in Aunt Winifred. And afterward, we can stop in and see Bob, the other coffee vendor.”
“Sounds good,” Maddie replied. Then a thought struck her. “But we’ll have to close the truck for part of the morning – maybe we can get back in time for the lunch rush.”
“Yep.” Suzanne nodded. “What time do you think Jill’s café opens?”
“Is she online?” Maddie gestured to Suzanne’s phone lying on the counter.
“Let me see.”
A few seconds later, Suzanne showed Maddie the information on the phone screen. “The opening hours say 9.30 ‘til 5.”
“Great.” Maddie smiled. “We can get there as soon as she opens, then visit Bob, and get back here by noon.”
Before Suzanne could reply, a customer arrived, putting in an order for a large latte.
The lunch period was busy, although they weren’t as slammed as they usually were. Still, Maddie was grateful that a lot of their customers hadn’t deserted them – yet.
When Suzanne brought out the tray of maple macadamia balls, Maddie’s mouth watered.
“I’ve saved some for us.” Suzanne winked.
Which was just as well. Because as Suzanne had predicted, the health balls sold out.
Finally, Maddie got to try the tempting morsels. Suzanne had saved two each for them.
Maddie sank down on a stool after serving the last customer. The square was now deserted, with employees hurrying back to their jobs, and housewives and seniors returning home.
“Yum,” she mumbled around a mouthful of macadamia, maple syrup and coconut. “I think these are the best you’ve made so far.”
“I think so, too.” Suzanne looked pleased with herself. “At least they’ve made us a little extra profit today.”
“You’ve got to make more of them,” Maddie ordered with a smile. “If we make another batch this afternoon, they’ll be ready for lunch tomorrow when we get back from Aunt Winifred.”
“Okay.” Suzanne nodded. “I’ll go back to the grocery store for more ingredients in a sec. I only bought enough to make this one batch, apart from the bottle of maple syrup.”
Trixie had snoozed through the lunch rush, but now sat up on her stool, looking interested.
“They would probably make you sick, Trixie,” Maddie told the cat gently. Trying to change the subject, she asked the feline, “Do you want to come with us tomorrow when we interview Jill? She runs a café in Aunt Winifred.”
“Mrrow!” Trixie nodded her head. Or was Maddie imagining things?
“Don’t forget Jill has a dog,” Suzanne pointed out, typing another shopping list on her phone.
“What do you think, Trix?” Maddie looked enquiringly at the Persian. “Do you want to meet Jill’s dog?”
Trixie seemed to ponder the question, then said, “Mrrow.”
“I think that means yes,” Maddie told Suzanne.
“Trixie could wear her harness tomorrow,” Suzanne suggested as rose from her stool.
Maddie nodded. Although Trixie was very good when she wore the harness, Maddie suspected she didn’t like wearing it that much. But it would be practical for tomorrow, in case Jill’s dog was too enthusiastic or didn’t like cats.
Suzanne looked out through the serving hatch and pouted. “No customers.”
“It will give us a chance to make the maple macadamias when you get back,” Maddie said. “Do you think we should make double?”
“Even better – a triple batch.” Suzanne grinned. “That way there’ll be more for us!”
CHAPTER 9
The next day, Maddie and Suzanne opened Brewed from the Bean at their usual time of 7.30 a.m., served the sweaty, thirsty joggers and the early morning workers they’d managed to retain, then closed up at 8.45am and walked to Maddie’s house nearby.
Trixie had stayed home that morning – Maddie thought it would be easier if they picked up Trixie along with her car to make the trip to Aunt Winifred.
“Mrrow,” the white Persian greeted them with a muffled meow as Maddie unlocked the front door, her turquoise harness dangling from her mouth.
>
“Ready for our road trip, Trixie?” Suzanne greeted the cat with a smile.
“Mrrow!” The cat’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.
Maddie quickly put the nylon contraption on Trixie, the Persian standing still for her.
“Let’s go.” Maddie held the leash and smiled as Trixie led the way out of the house, the cat turning back as if to check Maddie and Suzanne were following her.
“Let me know if you don’t like the dog when you meet him, and I’ll put you back in the car,” Maddie said to Trixie.
“Do you think Jill’s dog will be at the café?” Suzanne asked as Maddie drove down the street.
“I don’t know.” Maddie crinkled her brow. “I just remember Jill saying she didn’t bring him to the festival as she wasn’t sure it was allowed.”
“I guess we’ll find out when we get there,” Suzanne replied with a smile.
The scenery of tall Douglas firs amidst a rural setting made it a pleasant drive. At exactly 9.30 a.m., Maddie pulled up outside Jill’s café in Aunt Winifred.
The town seemed to be a little smaller in size than Estherville, and Jill’s café was at the end of the main street which was lined with a variety of small shops.
“Cute,” Suzanne remarked as they stared out of the window at the café. Hanging baskets of yellow and purple pansies adorned the outside, while inside looked bright and airy.
“I think it suits her,” Maddie said as she got of the car. She reached back in for Trixie, then set the Persian onto the sidewalk. “What do you think, Trix?”
“Mrrow.” Trixie looked around the street and then at the café, her eyes wide, as if everything about the scene interested her.
The black and white Open sign hung in the front door.
“Let’s go.” Suzanne strode to the clear glass door trimmed with mahogany.
Trixie trotted after Suzanne, and Maddie brought up the rear. Suzanne pushed the door open and they stepped inside.
There were plenty of wooden tables and chairs, all of the same mahogany hue. Prints of pretty flowers decorated the white painted walls. It seemed very charming and friendly.
But they were the only customers.
“Hi!” Jill stepped out of the back and bustled to the counter. She wore blue jeans and a violet jumper, along with a friendly smile. “What can I get you folks? Oh! We met on Saturday at the coffee festival. It’s Maddie and Suzanne, right?”
“That’s right.” Maddie gestured to Trixie. “Is it okay for my cat to visit with us if I keep her on the harness?”
Trixie blinked up at Jill, looking sweet and innocent.
“Oh, your cat is adorable.” Jill smiled at the feline. “Sure, I don’t have a problem with her being in here. Especially since I don’t have any customers at the moment.”
“How’s business?” Suzanne asked curiously.
“It’s okay.” Jill shrugged. “It could be a bit better but I’ve just opened and it’s Tuesday. My best days are usually Thursday through Saturday, although I took time off for the festival last week. It should pick up at lunch today.”
“That’s good,” Maddie said.
“Would your cat like a bowl of water?” Jill peered over the counter at Trixie.
“Mrrow,” Trixie answered.
“Yes, I think so,” Maddie replied with a smile. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Jill bent down and fetched a stainless-steel bowl, then filled it up from the sink behind her. “Here you go, sweetie.” She stepped from around the counter and placed the bowl away from the front door, but close to the counter on the other side of the room.
Trixie led Maddie to the bowl and started lapping the water, her little pink tongue darting in and out of the bowl.
“I’d love to try your coffee,” Maddie said.
“Sure.” Jill smiled at them.
“Me too,” Suzanne put in. “I’m desperate for a latte.”
“You two sit down and I’ll bring them over.” Jill stepped over to the espresso machine.
“We were interested in what you thought about the festival.” Maddie exchanged a swift glance with Suzanne.
Jill tsked over the hissing and grinding of the machine.
“It was terrible about Dave Dantzler, wasn’t it?” She looked at Maddie, as if remembering what had happened at the end of the festival.
“Yes,” Maddie said truthfully.
“Has the sheriff’s department found out how he died?”
“We haven’t heard anything,” Suzanne replied. “Have you?”
“No.” Jill shook her head and busied herself making the lattes.
“What did you think about the other vendors?” Maddie asked. Trixie had finished drinking the water and was staring up at the counter, watching Jill make the coffee.
“They seemed nice.” Jill poured them each a latte as well as one for herself and gestured to the empty tables. “Why don’t we sit over there? These days I grab any opportunity I can to get off my feet, even this early in the morning.”
Maddie nodded, knowing the feeling. Although she was younger than Jill, she was grateful the truck was big enough to boast stools for her, Trixie, and Suzanne to sit on when there was a lull. When she’d worked at Claudine’s coffee shop, she hadn’t had that luxury, and her feet used to ache at the end of the day.
They all settled at a table large enough for four, Trixie sitting on the fourth chair.
“She’s so cute.” Jill looked admiringly at her. “I’d love her to meet my dog, Boyd. He’s outside in the garden.”
“You have a garden at the rear?” Maddie asked. She hadn’t seen a hint of one when they’d parked out front.
“Yep. I used to have some tables out there for extra customers, but it was too much work, going outside and coming inside all the time. I have an employee who comes to help me on Thursdays to Saturdays, but on the quiet days I’m on my own. So I decided to bring Boyd to work since he gets lonely by himself at home, and now I play with him in the garden during the quiet times.”
“How do you know if you have customers if you’re out in the back?” Suzanne wore a puzzled frown.
“I had a bell installed. When someone steps inside, it goes off at the back door.” Jill sipped her coffee. “I haven’t turned it on yet this morning. I was in the kitchen when you came in, and I can usually hear customers enter the shop from there.”
Maddie tried her latte. The foam was good – she enjoyed decent foam – and the coffee had a smooth, light taste. Perhaps a little too light for her liking, but it was a very good latte.
“Mm.” Suzanne smiled as she put down her latte glass. “This is yummy.”
“Thanks.” Jill smiled. “I thought I might have a chance of winning the competition but it wasn’t to be.” She glanced at Maddie. “I’d love to taste your coffee sometime, though.”
“You’re welcome at Brewed from the Bean whenever you like,” Maddie said sincerely. She hoped Jill wasn’t the killer, because she liked the woman.
“I’ll take you up on that,” Jill replied. “What are your opening hours?”
“Monday to Friday, 7.30 ‘til 4, and Saturday 7.30 ‘til lunch time,” Suzanne replied. “What about you? We came over today because we thought you might be closed on Mondays.”
“You would be right.” Jill nodded. “It’s just not worth it for me to open Mondays – or Sundays. Everyone around here goes to church Sunday morning, and then goes home for lunch.” She chuckled.
“We get the early morning joggers and office workers,” Maddie informed her. “That’s one of the reasons we open on Mondays.”
“I think we sell more coffee on Monday mornings than any other day of the week,” Suzanne said with a laugh. “People seem to hate going to work on Monday the most, and they treat themselves to an extra shot of espresso to get the working week started.”
“It looks like you two know what you’re doing,” Jill said admiringly.
“I hope so,” Maddie replied. “We’ve only had the coffe
e truck for seven months.”
“And business was down a bit yesterday,” Suzanne admitted. “I think it’s because some people heard about Dave holding one of our cardboard cups in his hand when he was ... found.”
Now that they were back on the topic of the potential murder, Maddie ventured, “Did you see anything suspicious, Jill? Around the time of his death?”
The older woman looked thoughtful, staring into space.
“The detective thinks it happened just before the judge announced the winner of the coffee making competition,” Maddie added.
“No,” Jill replied at last. “I did see Bob talk to Dave about thirty minutes before the judge made his announcement about the winner. I went to get a couple of sliders – you know, those mini hamburgers – for a late lunch, and while I waited in line I thought I saw them saying something to each other. But I didn’t get a really good look. Maybe it wasn’t Bob.” She looked a little worried – was she afraid she’d incriminated the other coffee vendor?
“Those sliders were delicious, weren’t they?” Suzanne enthused. “We had them for lunch, too. And while I was there, I bumped into this married couple who looked to be in their fifties, but I didn’t catch where they were from.”
“Oh, I think I know who you mean,” Jill replied, her face brightening. “I visited their stall to see how good their coffee was.” She looked apologetic for a second. “I meant to come over to you girls too, after the judging round, but then I got busy with customers, and then they announced you’d won and then—”
“We understand,” Maddie said hastily. She didn’t blame the other woman for not wanting Maddie to make her a cappuccino after Dave had been found dead with one of Brewed from the Bean’s cups in his hand.
“Mrrow,” Trixie agreed.
“How was their coffee?” Maddie asked curiously.
“Quite good,” Jill replied, “although I realized I preferred mine. They’re from a small town between Aunt Winifred and Seattle. I can’t remember seeing them at the judging, though.”
“Hmm,” Maddie murmured. She didn’t think they were any closer to finding out the truth, apart from the fact that Bob, the coffee vendor, had spoken to Dave Dantzler not long before he was killed.