After being taken in for questioning, Jake confessed to the murder. Even if he hadn’t confessed, the footage of the attack at the cafe was enough to charge him with assault. It was a good thing that Dylan finally hooked up the security cameras. The footage, along with the confession would put Jake away for a long time.
“I’m having this framed.” Grandma Gertie beamed at me with pride. “And I got you something, too.”
“I hardly think a news story requires a gift,” I said. Still, I wasn’t going to say no to whatever she had for me.
“You’ll like this. Come.” She dragged me outside, where a beautiful, new bike stood gleaming in the driveway. It had a small basket in the front, perfect for carrying my bag. She gave me a matching helmet and a lock to go with it.
“Grandma, you shouldn’t have,” I said. But with my car still out of commission, I appreciated the wheels. I wished that a front-page story came with a raise. It was still going to take me weeks to save up for new tires for my car.
“Yes, I should have. Now, run along.”
I hopped on the bike and pedaled my way to work. My ankle was still sore, but the swelling had gone down considerably. It was still wrapped up, but at least I could function without crutches. Which was good. I couldn’t imagine having to ride a bike while carrying those things.
I locked up my bike in front of the Aurora Heights Chronicle and headed inside. “Lainey, great job. You’re a real Nancy Drew,” Marie said from the front desk.
“Thanks, Marie.” I waved at her as I made my way into the office. The building was busy, chiming away with phone calls and deadlines but people stop to congratulate me on the story.
“Boggins!” The unmistakable voice of Bob Starsman barked at me before I even had a chance to sit at my desk.
“Hi Bob,” I said, leaning into this office.
He sat there at his desk, typing away at something as usual. When he saw me, he stopped and looked up. “You did good, kid. I knew you could do it. Now, I have an assignment for you.”
“The police scanner?” I asked, hopefully.
“What? No. The Cozy Cat. They’re having their grand reopening today. I need you to cover it.” Bob lowered his head and went back to typing.
“Bob, come on—” I began but stopped at his raised hand. With a heavy sigh, I gathered my things and rode my bike to the Cozy Cat Cafe.
I knew about the reopening party. Dylan invited me, but I used work as an excuse. As much as I supported his business, I didn’t feel like having a bout of deja vu. Still, an assignment was an assignment.
The cafe was packed. With the warmer weather, tourists flocked to Aurora Heights in droves. Some locals were still leery of the cafe because of the murder, but the tourists didn’t seem to mind.
I opened the door to the throng of people collectively cheering as I walked in. A banner with the words Thank You, Lainey hung from the ceiling. “What’s all this?” My face felt hot from the flush of embarrassment.
Dylan came up and handed me a cup of coffee. “This is my grand reopening and thank you Lainey party,” he said.
Esther Sawyer stepped out from the crowd and raised a cup of coffee in her hand. “To Lainey Boggins for solving the murder of Brian Lockwood,” she announced.
“To Lainey,” the crowd said and drank.
My face felt hot and was probably all sorts of weird colors. I couldn’t believe Dylan had done this. A grin that stretched from ear to ear wouldn’t let up from my face. “You really shouldn’t have,” I said, but I was glad they did.
A flash from my peripheral caught my eye. “Oh darn,” I heard Liam’s voice say. He was fiddling with a camera too big for his hands. “The flash was on and now the picture is overexposed. Can you all do that again?”
“What are you doing, Liam?” I asked.
“Bob sent me to cover the surprise party. You’re kind of a hero in this town,” he said. A hero, huh? I kind of liked the sound of that.
April Lockwood rushed from the crowd and leapt at me, tackling me in a hug. “My family owes you one, Lainey.” She leaned in close and whispered in my ears, “and I owe you one for the good word to Dylan.” She backed away, held Dylan’s hand and smiled at him.
Despite the lump in my throat, I smiled back. They looked good together. They looked happy. Who was I to take that away?
I felt a rush of emotions I couldn’t make sense of. Pride. Embarrassment. Gratitude. A little sadness at seeing Dylan with April. I guess I was still coming to terms with things that could never be.
I turned to find a seat and DeLuca’s broad, muscular body startled me. I stepped back and met his gaze. To my relief, there wasn’t a hint of snide or sarcasm in it. He reached into his pocket and took out a phone. My phone. “Thanks for the evidence. You did good,” he said.
“Thanks, DeLuca.” I met his gaze, his dark eyes pulling me in. For a moment, I swear I could feel something inside of me click. I looked away. It was probably just heartburn.
“Good job, Miss Boggins,” said a woman beside DeLuca I hadn’t noticed. She was short, wore a dark blue suit and her greying hair was twisted into a tight bun on her head. “I’m Melissa O’Hara, the new police Chief in town. If it wasn’t for you, we might never have uncovered Minetta’s lazy work. Letting his friends get away with murder is a whole new level of corruption. Good work. We need more reporters like you in the world.”
“Really? Thank you.” I snuck a look at DeLuca, who was painfully holding back an eye roll. “It was nice meeting you, too.”
“Well, I think we have to get back to the office, Chief O’Hara,” he said.
“You’re right.” She waved goodbye and wove through the crowd toward the door.
“For the record,” DeLuca leaned in close to whisper in my ears, the smell of clean and nature mingling in my nose, his breath hot against my skin. “I think you can do better than Captain Lacrosse.” He gave me a small nod of the head and left.
I suddenly felt strange and prickly and gooey all over. I was worried I might be coming down with some kind of flu. I found a chair to sit in and sipped my coffee, trying not to think of my encounter with DeLuca.
“Hey, Lainey,” a familiar voice said from behind. It was Olivia, the medical examiner.
“Hey, Olivia. Have a seat,” I offered.
She plopped down in the chair next to mine as Fur Ball jumped on the table between us. He made himself right at home as he lay on the table while we gave him scratches and pats. “Nice detective work. Ever think of becoming a cop?” Olivia said.
“Me? No way,” I said.
“You’re right. Might be too much of a distraction for the guys. Especially for DeLuca.” She winked as she took another sip of her coffee.
“Yeah right.” I waved away her comment like it was an annoying fly.
“Why not? He’s objectively hot. Isn’t he?” She said.
“Sure. I guess. It takes more than looks, though. Besides, if you think he’s hot, why don’t you go for him?”
“Nope. Not for me.” She shook her head defiantly, as if the thought of her and Nick DeLuca were akin to ice cream and sewage.
“Don’t date cops, huh?”
“Don’t date men,” she clarified.
“Lucky,” I said.
I pulled out my phone to make sure it was still in working order. I scrolled through my contacts and something was different. DeLuca was gone from my list. I kept scrolling through and found that a small, gooey smile was creeping across my lips. Among my contacts was an old number with a new name: Nick.
About the Author
Nikolett Strachan is the author of cozy mysteries set in the kind of small towns she wished she grew up in. With a background in journalism, she has held several different jobs, but considers herself a writer and professional daydreamer. She loves the works of Edgar Allan Poe, Chuck Palahniuk and Ruth Ware. When she's not plotting her next murder on the page, she plays in an indie-electronic band with her husband. She lives in Canada.
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Dark Roasted to Death Page 16