Strange Brew

by N C Patterson

  While it was true that I’d been apprehensive, even frightened when she’d shown up so suddenly--I also was so happy inside.

  Tamsin sat there watching me, reading my thoughts. “Don’t worry. She’ll be back. She always comes back.” With that, he trotted up the stairs.

  He was right. Theo was as loyal to family as she was to the Witch’s Reed. More so even.

  I knew I needed to make an apology, to show her how much I did care for her, but it would have to wait. I still had a murder to solve.

  Once I returned to the cafe, the rest of the day seemed to go by like lightning. The customers came in waves as big as the ocean, and it seemed like we were swimming in coffee by the time the evening rolled around.

  Some people asked questions about the murder, mostly to inquire if it had really happened, sometimes to ask if I had actually been there. Of course, I had, but I didn’t tell them this. Even though I was a warlock, and therefore much harder to kill, it didn’t stop the experience of being attacked from being traumatic--and something I didn’t want to talk about.

  I threw myself into brewing drinks, touching them up with a flick of my wrist and a snap of magic. Helping people relax and enjoy the atmosphere of our business.

  I’d also never seen so many books fly off our shelves. I was thankful that many of the folks who chose to borrow from the free lending library left tips in the fund box. Of course, when people had a bit of magic coursing through their veins, they seemed more likely to be generous. By the time six o’clock rolled around, I had to help Charline by running into the basement and picking out titles to fill the holes.

  As we emerged back up from the basement stairs, boxes in arms, I was surprised to see a familiar face waiting at the counter.

  It was Samantha.

  Setting the box on an empty table nearby, I slipped in behind the coffee counter, putting my apron back on.

  “She said she wanted you to serve her. So, she waited,” Dahlia chimed in.

  I gave my nod of thanks to my barista and turned toward Samantha. “Hi. What can I get for you?”

  “Actually, I was hoping you had time to talk.”

  “Sure thing. Are you sure you don’t want a drink? On the house.”

  She gave a timid half shrug. “I won’t turn down free coffee. Just black, please.”

  “Coming up,” I announced, filling a steaming mug with our signature brew of the day. It steamed warmly as I handed it over to her. “Come on. Why don’t we chat in my office?”

  Leading the way, we went through the open kitchen door and through a second into my office. The room was the same size as our tiny kitchen but felt even smaller with my personal bookshelves and filing cabinet. “Sit down,” I offered, motioning to the plush maroon leather couch against the wall across from my desk. She gladly snuggled in, sipping from the black mug with our logo on it.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Something seems wrong with Ryan. He never came back to the restaurant yesterday from his break.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t? Has he called at all?”

  She shook her head. “No, and I’ve tried calling him multiple times. It’s like he just vanished. I’ve spent all day looking for him.”

  I scratched my chin thoughtfully. “That is strange. Maybe he is sick?”

  “If he is sick, why doesn’t he just tell me so? Why is he ignoring my texts?”

  My heart was beating quicker, dark thoughts passing through my mind. What if Ryan, for whatever reason, was next on the killer’s hit list? Perhaps because he was such close friends with Nathaniel, he’d figured something out?

  After all, if the murderer really did turn out to be Jacob, it might make sense. He seemed to have a grudge against both men as well as myself.

  Could he try coming after me next for asking too many questions? However, he showed that he had a grudge against me the day of the Family event. Why not just kill me that same night?

  I gasped inwardly when I realized that perhaps he thought he had killed me, but being a warlock, was made from heartier stock than he understood.

  I said none of this to Samantha so as not to worry her.

  Instead, I calmly leaned forward, clasping my hands on the top of my desk. “Okay, where might Ryan have gone?”

  She swallowed hard. “I don’t know. I’ve looked everywhere. He obviously isn’t at work. He wasn’t at his apartment. He wasn’t even at the comic book store.”

  I began to drum my fingers on the desk, wondering just where he could have run off to. The sick feeling in my stomach that something might have happened to him was growing more and more.

  “This was the last place I thought to check.”

  I tilted my head and looked at her sympathetically. “I’m sorry, but he hasn’t been in here at all today. Not that I’ve seen.”

  Her hands gripped the mug tightly. “Where could he be?”

  “Has anything else happened recently?”

  She shook her head. “No. Besides his best friend getting killed, nothing.”

  “Well, the shock of a murder is enough to push anyone to run and hide.”

  “But hide where?” she started to get choked up, her eyes glistening with tears. “I thought things were going so well before. He’s my first boyfriend, and I thought he liked me.”

  “Hey, he probably does like you.”

  “Then why did he disappear?”

  “When something traumatic happens like this, sometimes men have trouble expressing their feelings or communicating properly. It’s easier just to hide or avoid the situation altogether.”

  She was silent, getting lost in the swirling colors of her drink. “I just wish I knew where he was.”

  “Has he acted strangely at all lately? Anything to give us a hint?”

  She hummed quietly to herself. “Well, I know his stomach has been acting up.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Stomach?”

  “Irritable Bowel Syndrome. He gets sick to his stomach pretty easily. Sometimes, he spends a long time in the bathroom, like ten or fifteen minutes.”

  I knew he struggled with minor health problems including low blood sugar, so hearing this wasn’t a big surprise. “So, his digestive system has been giving him trouble since the murder?”

  She shook her head. “No, since before that. I mean, on our last date he suddenly felt sick and had to run to the bathroom for a few minutes.”

  I froze instantly, a chill running down my spine as she spoke. “Wait, what night was that?”

  “Oh, the night of the murder. He was in the bathroom for at least ten minutes. He didn’t look good either when he got back. All sweaty and pale. I thought maybe he had food poisoning, but he insisted on staying.”

  I instantly stood up.

  “What? What is it?” she gasped, her eyes wide with worry.

  “That’s it. Why don’t you check the hospitals?”

  “Hospitals?” she nearly screamed.

  “If he is sick and maybe has food poisoning, maybe you should check there,” I suggested, hoping she’d hurry out.

  “Yes, yes. Why didn’t I think of that? Thank you. Thank you,” she gushed, setting the mug on my desk and running out of my office.

  I made sure she was really gone before I got to work.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Telling Samantha to check out the hospitals had been a diversion to get her out of the cafe. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it was a straight up lie. While it was a possibility that he had somehow ended up in the ER, either from illness or from being attacked by the killer, I somehow doubted that myself.

  Aunt Theo had been so ready to blame Jacob for the murder, seeing as he didn’t have a solid alibi. Not to mention, that staircase made it very easy for him to sneak out.

  I wasn’t ruling him out as a suspect, but I also was beginning to swing toward Ryan again. While I did have some difficulty imagining a sensitive guy like him committing such a heinous crime, this new information
she’d just given me caused me to suspect him more.

  Asking Dahlia if she could cover me for a few minutes, I rushed out the door and headed for Antonio’s.

  “Welcome to Antonio’s,” the same hostess greeted me with the same bored sounding voice. “Table for one?”

  “Yes, please, but can I use the bathroom first?” I asked.

  “Knock yourself out,” she said, motioning across the dining room.

  I quickly weaved past the staircase and sped down the back hallway where the bathrooms were located. When I got to the end of the hall, I froze. The back door was directly adjacent to the men’s bathroom.

  It all seemed a little too convenient.

  Stepping outside, all while keeping the door open, I looked up and saw that there was an old security camera mounted just above. Perfect. It should catch any action of someone coming or going.

  I realized it was something I needed to invest in myself. If I’d had a camera out back, it would be easy to see who had snuck into my place and knocked me on the head before killing Nathaniel.

  However, I still wanted to check out the bathroom quick before doing anything else.

  Back inside, I entered the men's restroom. There was a single stall and a urinal. I did a once over, trying to spot anything suspicious . . . Anything at all.

  First things first, I opened the cabinet beneath the sink. At a glance, it looked like nothing more than extra industrial toilet paper rolls and cleaning supplies. I did a quick snap of my fingers, making the items stored there float out so I could see behind them.

  There was nothing suspicious.

  With a wave of my hand, the items all went back inside precisely as they had been before. I closed the cabinet and turned my attention to the bathroom stall. Opening the door, I faced a toilet and a large black wall mounted toilet paper dispenser.

  I tried to open the plastic cover but realized it was locked shut. With a snap of my fingers, the latch came undone, and I popped it open. There was only toilet paper inside.

  Closing it back up, I stood there with my hands on my hips.

  Maybe I’d been wrong. Perhaps I wouldn’t find anything in that bathroom.

  My eyes fell on the toilet, specifically, the tank at the back. I know I’d seen people hide things in there in the movies, but would it be something a murderer could really come up with in real life? Stepping forward, I grabbed the lid with both hands and lifted it away.

  I froze as I stared in at the sealed plastic bag. Contained inside was the comic book, preserved in yet another layer of plastic and the original collector's sleeve it had been in at the shop.

  “So, it was you,” I whispered to myself, realizing I’d just cracked this case. I said a silent thank you to my aunt for pushing me into this--at least until I heard the bathroom door open.

  I spun around and found Ryan standing there. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  I had to admit that Samantha was right. He looked terrible. His skin was a sickly pale like he hadn’t eaten in days. “Ryan. How are you feeling? Samantha said you haven’t been doing so hot.”

  “You talked to Sam?” he questioned, both eyebrows raising and his lips pressing together until they turned white. His eyes kept darting to the tank behind me.

  “Yeah. It’s great you finally have a girlfriend.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” he said quickly, sharply. He licked his lips, his eyes now fully trained on his hidden treasure that I stood in front of.

  “Not your girlfriend? She said--”

  “She was wrong,” he cut me off, digging around in his pocket for something. To my surprise, he produced a switchblade.

  “What are you doing, Ryan?”

  “Just be quiet,” He waved toward the toilet tank. “Hand me the comic out of there, will you?”

  “You mean the comic you stole and hid here?”

  “Will you just be quiet already?” he threatened, shakily waving the switchblade at me.

  “It’s no wonder you’ve been sick the last couple of days. How could you bring yourself to kill your own best friend?”

  “He wasn’t my best friend,” he practically screeched, his voice cracking. He moved forward with the blade dangerously close to my body. “The way he was always so successful, always getting promotions at work, always winning chess tournaments and bragging about it, always bringing some other girl to throw in my face.”

  “But you had a girlfriend,” I argued.

  “Not like the girls he brought,” he choked.

  My jaw dropped open. I never in a million years would have believed that Ryan, a sweet and kind man, to be so shallow when it came to romance. “Samantha seems cute and smart and dedicated.”

  “You can have her then,” he said flippantly, appalling me once again.

  It at least explained why she couldn’t find him. He was purposefully avoiding her, refusing to actually break it off and instead just ignoring her and hoping the problem would go away.

  “Nathaniel always had everything I didn’t and made sure I knew it. He did the same thing to Jacob. He wasn’t anyone’s friend. Him keeping that comic for himself was just the last straw.”

  “Which is why you killed him?”

  “Shut up.”

  “You planned the whole thing, too, which is all the worse for you. You planned on faking being sick that night, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Instead, you ran out the back door, to my shop, knocked me out, and killed Nathaniel.”

  “I liked you, Adrian. I did. That’s why I only knocked you out. Looks like I should have just finished you off then.”

  “Why did you wait?” I asked, trying to stall him. “You went to all the trouble of hiding the comic here, but you’re only now coming back for it?”

  “I tried to sneak out with it yesterday when I went on break. I told everyone I was going to walk down to the comic shop as they expected me to. Instead, I snuck into the bathroom.”

  I understood what he was saying. “But I showed up and was asking questions.”

  “I couldn’t be seen sneaking off with it. So, I just let myself disappear for a bit, pretending to be depressed.” He glanced at the toilet again. “I came back for it now, but once again, here you are in my way.”

  “Ryan.”

  “No, I’m done chatting.” He motioned with one finger. “Now, give it to me, and I promise to make this quick and easy.” The light caught the blade, and I could tell he was going to strike at any moment.

  Before he could lunge, there was a loud pop, followed by the familiar crackling sound of teleportation. In an instant, my Aunt appeared behind Ryan.

  He spun around in shock.

  She snapped both fingers and clapped loudly, making a sound with her hands like a gunshot. The room went pitch black in a split second.

  The next thing I knew, the door opened, letting light in from the hall as Ryan ran screaming from the room and directly through the dining room of customers and fellow employees--the comic book still in his hands.

  She smiled at me. “You knew I’d be back.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “I just wanted to pop by and give you the good news,” Becca said, appearing at my coffee counter with a big smile on her face. Her blonde hair was trussed up in a tight bun, and she wore a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and leather jacket over that.

  Her badge, attached to her hip, caught the morning sunlight coming from the window.

  I leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips. “Just seeing you is good news,” I admitted.

  As I said it, I glanced around the cafe to make sure my aunt hadn’t randomly popped in to say hello or get a cup of coffee from me (despite there being plenty of coffee in the house).

  After she’d shown up and saved me the night before, she’d decided to stick around for a little while longer. Turns out, when she’d left earlier, she hadn’t teleported all the way home, just upstairs.

  Go figure.

  In the end, it only meant she hadn’
t used up all her magical energy teleporting across the country and back. But even after teleporting back and forth in a small space such as the few blocks surrounding my house, she did have to recharge a little bit before heading off home again to Salem.

  Unfortunately for me, that meant just trying to keep my girlfriend hidden for a tiny bit longer. Based on how she reacted to all my coworkers being mortal, I wasn’t looking forward to how she might feel about Becca.

  “Well, you’ll be happy to hear that Detective Miner is charging Ryan Progan with the murder of his friend Nathaniel Brown,” she informed me, taking a seat on one of the stools at the coffee counter.

  “Is it really good news?” I questioned, automatically filling our largest mug to the brim with steaming black coffee and setting it in front of her. “I mean, after all, one man is dead. Another is behind bars. A long friendship is broken. A young woman who thought she might be in love now knows it was a lie.”

  Becca pursed her lips. “Sheesh, Adrian. I thought it was my job to be the Debbie Downer in this relationship.”

  I gave a sideways smirk. “Sorry. It is good news for you and me.”

  “That’s right. You’re no longer on the suspect list.”

  “Well, I’d hope so after a full restaurant full of patrons saw him running like a mad man with the stolen merchandise from the crime scene in hand.”

  “The statements from his girlfriend and coworkers said that he’d spent nearly fifteen minutes in the bathroom at exactly the time of the murder also helped.”

  I wiped my hands off on the towel hanging from the crook of my apron and leaned in on the counter. “I still can’t believe it. Ryan seemed like such a nice guy.”

  Becca shrugged. “Sometimes, that is just the way it is. The people who outwardly seem like the nicest are actually the most disturbed.”

  “I guess so,” I agreed, grabbing a mug and pouring myself a cup.

  Things were slower that morning, giving me time to think, time to actually have a cup myself with my girlfriend. “So, I saw your badge on your belt. Is it new?”

  Becca’s smile lit up her face. “That’s more good news I hadn’t gotten to yet.” She stood up and showed me the badge. The word detective was emblazoned on it.