“I wanted to hear about your date,” she said, matter-of-fact.
“I’ll tell you about it tonight.” I put on my coat. “Promise.”
“I hate when you’re all secretive. You know Lynda and Vince were at Piggies last night. They saw you two kiss.”
“It was just a kiss,” I lied. “I hardly know the guy.” That part was true. But Mom knew me better than that. I wasn’t one to just kiss a guy. My feelings for Luke were turning into more than I thought they would when Kate had set us up.
“Just warn me before you get engaged. Who am I going to eat Chunky Monkey with on Valentines?”
“There’s still time for you to find someone,” I told her. “Besides, I may need a pint before then.”
“Don’t say that.” She squeezed my arm tight. “You’re going to find the right guy. I just know you will.”
The comforting warmth of The Java Hutt greeted me like a hug. I was eager to shake off my mother’s words. After her failed marriage with my father, I knew she blamed herself for my dating habits—or the lack thereof. But the truth of the matter was I hadn’t really been trying to find someone—let alone, the one—in years. I was happy with my status quo.
Or at least I was until recently.
Kate’s eyes bored into her phone at a table catty-corner to the entrance. She didn’t look up to see me. That was typical. But I did a double-take when I got up to the counter. It wasn’t my friend, Gertie, womanning the bar.
“Hi,” a doe-eyed brunette smiled uncertainly at me from the register, “what would you like?” She was young, college-aged at most. Unlike the other baristas, she had no piercings and no visible tattoos. Her name tag read, Tenley.
I doubted her abilities at making coffee just by looking at her. But then again, I knew not to judge a book by its cover—its very young, only made three or four caramel macchiatos in her life, cover.
“I’ll have a large caramel macchiato with an extra shot of espresso.”
“Sure thing,” she said, fumbling on the tablet to find the right order of buttons. This did not bode well. It was already a little bit of a buzzkill before I got my buzz of caffeine.
“What’s the name for the order?” she asked.
“Allie,” I said, noticing she wrote it on the cup with an “ey”—like I was a narrow passage between buildings.
“All right, Allie.” In my head, I heard Alley. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
I flopped down in the seat across from Kate, feeling exasperated. She shot me a coy smile. “What do you think of the new girl?”
“I’m afraid,” I whispered. “Unless her coffee is good, I don’t see her lasting a week.”
Kate took a sip of her coffee, her face showing zero expression. She shrugged playfully at me. She wanted me to find out the hard way.
“Allie,” Tenley called in a cheery voice.
It looked like Java Hutt coffee, in a to-go mug. She hadn’t asked if I was staying or leaving. It smelled like my usual coffee, earthy and sweet. A new coffee girl made me nervous. It was like a new menu or a new chef at a favorite restaurant, only a little worse—those kinds of things can be exciting. I took an anxious sip.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
Kate watched my expression carefully. “Pretty good, huh?”
“Better than expected,” I confessed.
“Kind of like your date last night?” It was a question and a statement. Kate knew me too well.
I told her about my and Luke’s evening at Piggies, about how I’d slugged Luke with the door rushing inside, and how we’d gotten the five-forks-treatment. And then I told her about the kiss at the end of the night.
“How was it?”
“Smoky with hints of barbecue sauce.”
She chuckled. “Speaking of smoky, I’m headed over to the e-cigarette shop on Broad Street after this. You’re welcome to tag along.”
“Really?” I asked. “What for?”
“Just to ask a few questions,” she said. “When the police found the nicotine in Blake’s car, he went berserk, yelling, pleading, saying he’d never seen it before. You know, the usual. But I still want to follow up. Just in case.”
“Just in case what?”
“Just in case he didn’t do it.” Kate shrugged.
“Do you think he did it?” I asked her.
“Probably,” she admitted. “But we were all there. I just don’t see how he did it. I want to dot my i’s and cross my t’s. You understand.”
I nodded. Kate checked the time on her phone. “Let’s get going. I mean, you did get a to-go cup, after all.” She winked.
When we reached the door, it opened, and Javier let us out, smiling despite standing out in the cold an extra few seconds. “Morning, ladies,” he said. “You two look like you’re up to no good.”
Could he just sense it? Maybe that’s what made him such a good detective, his ability to read people.
“Just a little work,” Kate answered. She buttoned her coat against the slight breeze that had sent my teeth chattering.
“Stay out of trouble,” he called to us as the door shut behind him.
“We will,” Kate and I said in unison. But he couldn’t hear us as we giggled, walking swiftly down the street. I could feel the wind rubbing harshly on my cheeks. It was a cold and dry day.
“I almost think we should drive.” Kate pointed to her Mercedes. Then she pointed to the shop only a couple of blocks away from where Main Street and Broad Street intersected.
“I almost think you’re right,” I said. But we braved the cold anyway.
A few minutes later, we entered the e-cigarette shop shivering. The store was brightly lit and practically sterile. Smells competed like in the perfume section of a department store. Except here, it was the smell of different candies with an off-putting smell of cigar smoke. There was a humidified room with a large display of the rolled tobacco. This place had once been known as Adam’s Cigar Shop, and I guessed it still technically was. It was just the outside signage that had changed with the influx of the new fad of tobacco-free products.
From a back room came a youngish man with a neck beard. His hair was in a man bun “How can I help you, ladies?”
Judging by his slightly raised eye brows, we weren’t his typical customers.
“Hi, I’m Kate McAllister.” Kate offered him her hand to shake. “And this is my friend, Allie.”
“Right,” he said slowly. “Don’t I know you from somewhere? Channel four, right? You do the weather?”
“I’m a reporter,” Kate said.
“Cool. I’m Adam.”
“Like, the Adam?” I said, referencing the name of the old cigar shop.
“Well, not from like Genesis or anything. I guess you mean my dad. He owned the shop before he retired to Florida.”
“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” Kate asked him.
“No problem. Will I be on the news?” Adam asked, intrigued.
“Maybe,” Kate said. “Depends on if there’s anything worthwhile to say. I don’t have my crew with me now. But I think you might be able to help me out.”
“Okay, then shoot.”
Kate pulled out her cell phone. With a couple of taps of the screen, she found a picture of Blake Wilson. Then she held the photo up for Adam to see. “Is this man a customer of yours?”
Adam squinted down at the photo, and he thought for a long minute. “Maybe,” he said. “He does look familiar. Honestly, I don’t keep up with everyone that comes in here. Just my usuals. And he isn’t one of them.”
“Oh, okay.” Kate sounded defeated. “And you’re sure you don’t just recognize him from his face being on the news last night?”
“Could be, I guess.” He shrugged. “I mean, if I’m flipping through the channels, and I see a hot blonde like yourself, I’m going to stop there, aren’t I?”
Kate smirked. “Thanks for your help.”
I bit my lip, thinking of another way to approach this. Then I pull
ed my own phone from my peacoat’s pocket. I found some pictures taken at the Murder Mystery Dinner Party.
“What about her?” I showed him a picture of Suzi and George at the party.
“No, I don’t recognize her,” Adam answered. “The guy that’s with her though. He’s the guy who died, right?”
“He is,” Kate responded.
“Okay, what about her?” I asked, showing him a picture of Mara Murdock.
“Nope, don’t know her,” he said. “But I do know that guy.” Adam pointed to the blurry figure of Johnny tending the bar behind the in focus Mara.
“Yeah?” Kate asked.
“He’s not a regular here. I’m actually his customer. He’s my favorite bartender over at Rick’s Ice House. You know the place?”
“Yeah.” Kate nodded. “We do. Thank you for your help, Adam.”
“No problem. Let me know if you want to interview me for TV.”
“I will,” Kate assured him. Then we waltzed out of his establishment, back to the bitter cold.
“Good thinking, pulling up those photos,” Kate said to me. “I wish he gave us something to go on. Blake probably bought the nicotine online.”
“You can buy anything online these days,” I told her.
“True that,” she agreed. “I’m sure the police will be checking his credit and debit card statements.”
We made our way back to The Java Hutt, and we both got another coffee. “Are you up for happy hour with Marcus, Luke, and myself on Friday night?” Kate asked.
“As long as it isn’t at Rick’s, I’m in,” I told her jokingly.
“Great! I’ll let the boys know.” She gave me a wink before descending into her car, saying her last remark so that I couldn’t respond back. “Maybe Friday night’s kisses won't be so sweet.”
16
Today wasn’t my monthly appointment with Dr. Gilmore, so I felt a little uneasy going into the office unannounced. But really, I didn’t know any other way to contact Suzi. And Suzi was the key to finishing the article about George’s life in Lanai.
Honestly, this uneasy feeling greeted me every trip to the drab psychiatrist’s office. It usually pertained to my anxiety. However weird it may sound, I had anxiety about talking to someone about my anxiety.
The funny thing was, I was doing a lot better than my last scheduled visit. I’d been running, cooking, and writing. Anxiety wasn’t deterring me from doing what I needed to do. I’d even stepped out and went on a blind date—and then a second date. It was major progress.
I wondered what state Suzi would be in today. She hadn’t looked so good the last time I’d seen her—on the porch of the Bentley’s Estate.
With a turn of the office doorknob, I had my answer. The normally cheerful and well-kept secretary was nowhere to be found. It was a Suzi like I’d never seen before. She had bags under eyes. Her clothes were all wrinkled. Even her makeup had fallen prey to the aftermath of George’s death.
“Allie?” a weary Suzi questioned. She scrolled on computer, examining the screen like it had done something wrong. “Oh, nuts. I must’ve messed up the schedule. I don’t see you here.” She was frustrated. She banged on the edge of her keyboard, acting as if she’d done something wrong.
“No, no.” I waved her off. “I don’t have an appointment today. I came to see you.”
“Oh.” She sighed. “That’s good news.”
The office was empty except for the two of us, me, in the waiting area, and Suzi behind the enclosed office area. The solid door to Dr. Gilmore’s office was closed. If I’d timed it right, as I thought I had, he would be with a patient for the next forty-five minutes.
“Suzi,” I started, “how are you holding up?”
“I’m trying,” she said softly. Then she grabbed a tissue from the box beside her and began to dab at her eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just seeing you here brought me back to that night.”
“I understand. Can I come back there?”
She hit a black button on the wall and buzzed me back. I got to her as quickly as I could and gave her the type of hug I reserved for family. She cried on my shoulder a minute.
“I just can’t believe he’s gone,” she told me. “I’d never seen him so happy. Well, not since Mindy’s death. But that was years and years ago. He said he was almost ready to date again.”
“I see,” I said.
“It was silly of me, I know, but I was hoping he meant to date me.”
“That’s not silly,” I said. “He would’ve been lucky to date you.”
“That’s nice of you to say, Allie. But George could’ve had anybody. He was so handsome and kind.”
“He was,” I assured her.
“So, really, you just came to see how I was doing?”
“Yeah,” I faltered. “Sort of. Kinsey asked me to write something for the Gazette about George. I thought you’d be the person to ask.”
“That’s nice.” Suzi nodded. “I’d love to help. After all those police questions and the reports about his murder, something more about his life will do us all some good.”
“I agree.”
Suzi took a deep breath. “What do you want to know?”
“For starters,” I said, “does he have any other family besides Blake? Another son or daughter? How long ago did his wife pass?”
“No. Blake is it. Mindy died about ten years ago. Before he bought the Bentley’s Estate. He was an only child. The closest thing to family is a cousin in the area… and me. They weren’t really close, his cousin, that is. That’s why I’ve been helping make the funeral arrangements.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.” There went my hope of finding family members to interview for the paper. “Do you need help with it?”
“No,” she said, “not with the funeral. Not really. He had everything in order.” There was something she was holding back. “It’s nothing you can help with. It’s just Blake.”
“What about Blake?”
“They won’t let him out. They won’t let him attend his own father’s funeral. I want to help him make bail. Find him a good lawyer. Allie, there’s just no way that he did it.”
“You’re sure?” I pressed.
“I’m sure. I’ve known him since he was little. There’s just no way he did it.”
I felt guilty for even thinking Suzi had something to do with George’s death. And even guiltier now that I wasn’t fully convinced, like she was, that George’s son wasn’t the murderer.
“I have a friend,” I told her. “He’s a detective. I can maybe ask him if there’s anything we could do to help Blake. But I don’t know if he can release Blake for the funeral.”
“Would you?” Suzi asked. She squeezed my hand, “I’d really appreciate it. Even if we can just talk to him. Do you think you could help make that happen?”
“I can try.”
She squeezed my hand even tighter. “You really are a dear.”
“Thanks. Oh, and Suzi?” Her eyes widened, indicating I could ask my question. “Do you know anyone who could give me some quotes about George?”
“You could try the track club,” she offered.
“Good idea,” I said. Then I looked at the clock and remembered what day it was—Wednesday. If I hurried, I could meet them for their afternoon jog. I rushed home and changed into my running gear. I made it to the parking lot of Sure Foot Shoes with three minutes to spare.
17
The next morning, I limped into The Java Hutt. Not only had the run been longer than I anticipated, but the variations of pace had put my legs into some form of septic shock.
I had come away with enough quotes about George to fill a page of newspaper. Several pages. And there were also several runners who encouraged me to meet them for next week’s run. That felt good to my runner’s ego.
Just not my legs, I thought, grimacing as I massaged down my thigh.
“What are you doing?” a deep, velvety voice asked. I hadn’t even noticed Javier a spot ahead of me in line. But the
re he was—with a smirk on his face.
“I ran yesterday,” I told him. “My thighs are all cramped up.”
“I hate that,” he said. “But then again, the most I’ve run is a 10K so far.”
“You run?” I asked him.
“Yeah, it’s this new thing I’m into called trying to stay in shape. You heard of it?”
“I think I’ve heard of that one. But you should really try a half marathon. It really pushes you.”
“Only if you’d train with me.” He smiled.
“I’d consider it,” I told him.
We put in our orders, then grabbed a table, waiting for our drinks to be made. Javier’s drink was simple, a nonfat latte. He really is trying to stay in shape, I thought snidely after he ordered.
The new girl, Tenley, called out our orders together, and Javier got them for the two of us. He sat down again, getting himself comfortable in the cushioned seat.
“So, where’s your gal pal?” he asked about Kate.
“Probably working.” I unzipped my travel bag and found my laptop, setting it down on the table. “Which is also what I have to do.”
“Me, three,” Javier said with a smile.
“Can I ask you a favor?” He gave me a skeptical part of his dark eyebrows but nodded for me to go on. “My friend Suzi wants to visit Blake. I don’t think she knows how to make that happen. I mean, what she really wants is for him to be able to attend George’s funeral.”
“I doubt I could make that happen,” Javier said honestly. “But getting her on the visitor’s list shouldn’t be a problem.”
“If I take her, can you add me too?”
“Sure.” He bit his lip. “Are you still investigating?”
“Not really.” At this point, I wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not.
Javier put his elbow on the table, scooting closer toward me. “Because if you are, I’d tell you this: Besides the evidence, I don’t see why Blake’s in our custody. I don’t see a motive. If anything, Blake seems to have it out for this Mara lady. He says she’s been trying to steal his father’s business for years. They had a bit of a confrontation before the party the other night.”
Foodie Files Cozy Mysteries Box Set Page 17