by Cam Larson
"I’m here to see Councilman Carpenter," I told the receptionist. My voice held a confidence I didn’t entirely feel.
"Oh, I’m sorry, dear. He is very busy right now," she said quickly, and then turned back to her conversation. She balanced the phone receiver on her shoulder while writing something down.
I stayed right where I was, and waited. She frowned at me until I sat down in the chair at the end of her desk, not far from where she sat. Once she convinced the caller to vote for Carpenter, she would have to deal with me whether she wanted to or not.
I looked again at the rush all around me. I was reminded of the beehives that my grandparents kept in Oregon. The bees were busy all the time, though you couldn't tell exactly what they were doing. It always looked like all that work was meaningless – until you realized they'd been producing delicious raw honey all along.
Suddenly, the activity stopped and the voices fell silent. Then the Queen Bee, also known as Councilman Calvin Carpenter, a rather overweight man in his fifties, opened his office door and walked out. Everyone seemed to be waiting for some announcement and when none came, they simply resumed their activities.
He just stood there and looked around. I noticed that his hair was mostly grey under the fluorescent lighting. Finally, he walked over to another desk and handed the woman there some brochures.
"Councilman Carpenter!" I called, as he turned to go back to his office. He looked down at me just as I reached his side.
"Can I help you?" he asked. Then recognition crossed his face. "Oh, you're that little barista down at Roasted Love. What can I do for you?"
I tried to give him my nicest smile. "Councilman, I'm interested in doing some part-time work on your campaign. I have some afternoons and evenings off during the week, on the days that I come in for the early shift at the coffee house. Is there anything I could work on for you?"
He frowned a little as he looked closely at me. There was no doubt in my mind that he was thinking of the coffee and shelter I'd offered to John.
Before the councilman responded, I pressed on. "But first, could I ask you a few questions? I just want to clarify some of your issues and campaign promises, so I can be sure I'll be a good fit to work here."
He gave me a professional grin. "Sure, I can give you a few minutes. We can always use more helpers to get the message out. Your position at Roasted Love could actually help, since you get such a good crowd of customers in there." He stood aside and we entered his office. He closed the door and I sat down in the chair he offered me.
"I’ve seen your ads often on TV, and in most of them you mention doing something about the homeless people in West River," I said. "Do you have a definite plan for taking care of the problem?"
Again, his eyes scrutinized me. Being a politician, he smiled broadly and leaned back in his chair. "I do have ideas on that issue. Vagrants are becoming a bigger problem all the time, and it's one that will only grow as time goes on."
"Yes, but – "
"And I don’t know of a single one of them that's not on drugs. We don’t need drug dealers and users moving into the Piazza. Thank God, they're concentrated in a small area for now, but I want to stop it right there."
I kept quiet and waited for him to say more. I didn’t have to wait long.
"My goal," he said, "is to get them to move somewhere else unless they get jobs and move into some kind of housing. Right now, they're bringing our city down. We want to restore that blighted downtown area. We can’t expect businesses to move back in there if owners and customers have to step around vagrants just to get inside their buildings."
"How would you get the homeless to move?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Well, I'm glad you asked me that," he said, with a nice white smile. "Policies can be put in place that would prevent people from living outside on the streets – especially from sleeping outside. I’ve been told that the two shelters we do have in West River fill up fast. And anyway, the homeless are only allowed to stay there at night. They still wander the streets all day long."
"What about families with little kids?" I asked. "I just saw a news story about a homeless woman with two small children. If she got a job, who would care for those kids? Day care is expensive and you've got to pay up front."
Carpenter cleared his throat. "Well, now, she shouldn’t have gotten herself in that situation to begin with. She probably left her husband – if she ever had one – and struck out on her own. It was her choice to end up like this."
I stared at him. "Oh – so, most of them choose this lifestyle? I didn't know that." I wasn't above playing dumb to get the answers I needed. "But don’t you think it’s a little cruel to force people to move far away from West River if they don't want to?" I didn’t mention the fact that no woman would choose to leave her husband and take her children to the streets if she didn't have to.
The councilman shuffled some papers on his desk, trying to look like he was too busy for any more talking. "It’s for the good of the town I represent. We can’t have people like that making an already blighted area even worse. Before we know it they'll spread through the city – even up here."
"What if they don’t want to 'move somewhere else,' as you put it? What's the next step?"
"Well, ma'am, if it comes to that we'll have to make sure they go – one way or another. My goal is to get all of them out of West River."
"What did you think about the man who died?" I asked.
He switched two folders around and opened one of them. Then he closed it and placed the first one on top of it. "If you’re talking about the one who'd been sleeping outside Roasted Love – well, he's a good example of what I’m talking about. He once stayed downtown. Then he suddenly appeared on a street like the Piazza and called it his home. And look at what happened. He brought violent crime with him to our streets. Surely you don't think anyone wants that."
He looked at me, and gave me another one of those fake politician smiles. "If you want to work for me, even part time, you'd have to be on the same page that we're on here in this office. Otherwise, you'll be better off sticking with your job at Roasted Love."
I nodded slowly. "I’ll give it all some thought," I said. "Thanks for your time."
"Oh, you're welcome, young lady," he said, as I got up and walked to the door. "We'll look forward to hearing back from you!"
As I left Carpenter's office, I noticed a short hallway that led to a side door. I saw an exit sign above the side door, followed it, and took the back way out. Then I walked around to the front of the building to get into my car.
I couldn’t believe that Calvin Carpenter would actually murder one homeless person at a time until they were all gone from West River... would he?
Just then, I saw a familiar person walk up to the front door of the office building. It was Ronald Larch. Well, he does work here, I reminded myself. But I was sure glad we hadn’t met face to face inside.
I lost sight of him as he pulled open the door and disappeared inside. Between Larch's unknown connection to John, and Councilman Carpenter’s focus on getting rid of the homeless in West River, neither one of them could be ruled out as a suspect in what I was convinced was John’s murder.
Chapter Nine
I had a lot to think about after leaving Calvin Carpenter's campaign office, and I didn't feel like going straight home. So, I decided to stop for a dinner out. Daniel had not called all day, but I was sure I'd hear from him before the night ended. It wasn’t like him to stay mad for long.
I pulled over, dialed Jacob, and asked him to go over to my place and take care of Thor for me. He and my dog were close friends. Thor had taken to my boss with the Doberman’s own agenda: Jacob always brought his favorite treats for him.
Just as I was having my cell phone search for nearby restaurants, it suddenly rang. I glanced at the caller I.D. expecting to see that it was Daniel, but it turned out to be my old friend Anna Masters.
"I want to get out for a while," she said. "Have you had dinner yet, L
aila?"
I laughed. "I'm wanting to do the same thing. I'm looking for a place right now."
"Hey, I know just the one! You can meet me at the Old York Street Bistro. It's only a few blocks away from where you are right now."
Anna was already standing near the front door of the Bistro when I pulled into the parking lot, and as always I felt a little envy when I saw her. Her willowy figure caught everyone’s eye and she walked like she was on a runway in a fashion show. She was a little taller than me and her shoulder-length blonde hair glowed with highlights under the street lamp.
"Oh, it’s been too long, Laila," she said, as I hurried inside with her. "We should get together more often."
"Anytime, girlfriend!" I said, and we both laughed.
In a moment we were sitting down with menus in hand. Anna managed a high-end boutique at the opposite end of the Piazza from Roasted Love, and we had a fun time talking about our work. We pretended to argue over whose job was more stressful and whose was more glamorous, but the truth was that neither of us wanted to trade places. Then we sat silently for a few seconds trying to decide what to order.
And in the quiet, I heard a familiar voice behind me. I couldn't help but glance back over my shoulder.
At a table behind ours, I saw Ronald Larch sitting with someone who looked familiar to me. The dim lights hid the other man's face somewhat and I couldn’t place him. He appeared to be Larch’s age or maybe a little older, and his hair was brown. That was all I could see and I wasn't going to sit there twisted around and staring for long.
I quickly faced forward again. "Do you know those men?" asked Anna.
"Well, I know one of them because he comes into Roasted Love. I think I've seen the other one, but can’t remember where. Do you know them?"
Anna could see the two men by looking straight forward, and she took a close look. But just then, the server stopped at our table to take our order. Anna decided on the Quiche Lorraine and I opted for a tuna and vegetable dish, topped with creamy Mornay sauce.
"I don’t understand how you keep that perfect figure with a quiche that includes heavy cream and cheese," I said to Anna. "Not to mention smoked bacon."
She laughed. "Well, it does have some spinach in it, too." I almost forgot about the two men sitting behind us – until I saw Anna's eyes widen. "Hey – they're getting up," she whispered.
Sure enough, the two men stood up to leave and walked right past our table. Larch did a double-take when he saw me, and sure seemed to be uncomfortable about being around me.
I had once thought that the only reason he still came into Roasted Love was because his boss, the councilman, liked us. But I was still sure that I'd seen the tall man with him someplace before. I just couldn't think of where.
Once they were out of earshot, Anna sat back. "I don’t know either one of them. The just look like regular older guys to me. Why, are you in trouble or something? Is the FBI, DEA or KGB are looking for you?"
I sat up straight and caught my breath. "DEA! Yes! That's where I saw him. He was at the precinct house the other day when I went there to see the Chief of Police!"
"Why were you in the precinct house?" asked Anna. Her bright blue eyes were round with surprise.
I quickly decided to remain neutral. I wasn’t ready to tell even my best female friend my reasons for visiting the Chief of Police of West River just yet. "Oh, I was in the neighborhood and stopped in to say hello to him. We’ve known each other for a little while now."
"Yeah, I guess you have," said Anna. "You helped solve some murder that happened at a restaurant, didn’t you?"
I nodded, but wanted to move away from that conversation. Unfortunately, Anna wasn’t ready to do that. "Didn’t you know the owner of that restaurant?"
"Um, yeah. I mean, Daniel knew him. We ate there the night it all happened." I grabbed the chance to change the subject. "Hey, where are you going on vacation this year?" I asked, and we had a little fun chatting away about where we'd like to go. Anna could afford to go someplace more exotic than I could, so I often allowed myself to live vicariously through her.
I really did enjoy the rest of my night out. The food was great and so was the girl talk that went with it. By the time I arrived home, I felt a lot more relaxed. A night out with Anna was always a good thing.
# # #
When I opened the door to my home, I found Jacob sitting comfortably in my easy chair watching TV. Thor had his head resting on Jacob’s knee. "I hope you found something to eat, Jacob. You know you didn’t have to stay here with Thor the whole time."
"I brought in some burgers and fries for myself," said my boss. "I did get into that bottle of wine you've got, for one small glass. Not bad. How was your evening out?"
"Oh, I had a great time. Went out with my friend Anna Masters. I don't get to see her nearly enough."
"Well, good. You need a little down time."
"Sure." I debated whether or not to say anything about my ongoing private investigation of John's death. I'd promised Daniel I would not tell Jacob about the official notes that he'd shared with me. And Officer Leo Swenson wouldn’t appreciate that information going out to just anyone, either.
"Did any calls come in for me?" I asked, as Jacob got up from the easy chair and picked up his jacket.
"I heard your house phone ring a couple of times, but I'm not about to check your messages." He did have a sense of humor.
"Oh, that's all right. Thanks for taking care of Thor."
Jacob just waved his hand. "My pleasure. I like hanging out with him. See you tomorrow, Laila." He opened the door and left, closing it again rather loudly behind him.
I went straight into my bedroom and checked my messages, but neither was from Daniel – it was nothing but telemarketers. I was just sitting on the edge of the bed feeling disappointed when my cell rang.
My heart leapt when I saw Daniel’s name. "Hey! How are you?" I said, a little breathless.
"Hey, Laila. I’m sorry I haven’t called you sooner. I guess I just needed time to cool off."
It seemed to me that twenty-four hours was plenty long enough for that, but I didn't mention it. "It’s all right, Daniel. I know I upset you. And I'm sorry."
"Laila, I just don't want you walking into stuff that's far more dangerous than you realize. Okay?"
I couldn't help but smile. "Okay." It was nice to have somebody worry about me, I had to admit.
"So – you're going to leave the investigating up to the cops from now on. Right?"
I hesitated. And that wasn’t lost on Daniel. He sighed deeply. "Laila – just don’t go back down to West River’s Skid Row. That’s the most I can ask of you."
Suddenly I really wanted to talk to him about John’s death. "Daniel," I said, "I could sure use you as a sounding board. I respect your concerns. I really do. It’s just that – I miss John and I feel pretty bad about him dying alone on the street. That shouldn't happen to anyone."
He paused, and I was sure he was smiling. "I miss our talks, too, Laila. I’m on call for the rest of tonight, but can I take you out for dinner tomorrow? Or if you want, we could get take-out someplace and just stay in."
I jumped at the invitation. "You bet."
"Okay, then. I'll bring Chinese to your place tomorrow evening."
"Perfect. See you then."
I hung up the phone, feeling better than I had for quite some time.
Chapter Ten
While working at Roasted Love the next day, it was hard to keep my mind on my job. I kept thinking of Councilman Calvin Carpenter and my talk with him.
Somehow I had to find a way to get into his files at his campaign headquarters. He'd said how much he wanted the homeless to "just disappear." In my mind, there was a very real possibility that he was responsible for the murder of poor John.
But actually killing someone would have been a huge risk for the councilman, I reminded myself. By the time I'd left his headquarters the other day, he was already suspicious of me for just
wandering in and asking to work on his campaign. My little ruse hadn't been lost on him.
# # #
Once I was off work that evening, I decided to drive by Carpenter's headquarters before meeting Daniel at my apartment. I wanted to know how long the office stayed opened at the end of the day, and then I could set my plan in action.
Lights were on in the back half of the building. Those who worked in the front answering phones and taking care of other matters had left for the night, but the offices in the back still had people in them. I'd have to find a time to return when the whole place was dark. I turned the car around and headed for home.
# # #
Daniel had let himself into my apartment. The aroma of chicken chow mein and noodles greeted me – and so did Thor. But best of all, Daniel looked up and grinned at the sight of me. We met in the middle of the kitchen where he planted a loving kiss on my lips. It was a relief to find things back on track between us.
"Thor's been outside for his playtime," said Daniel. "I told him he'd have to wait until you got here to eat, so you'd better take care of him. His food's already measured out and he's one hungry dog."
While Daniel dished out our chow mein, I gave Thor and Benji their dinners in the corner of the kitchen. Daniel and I had learned to ignore the crunching sounds of my large dog while we ate.
"Okay, Laila, I’m ready to hear you out," Daniel said. "So, tell me: What do you think really happened to Homeless John?"
I gathered my thoughts, and then laid out what I had so far. "Well, do you remember what Councilman Carpenter said in Roasted Love about wanting to clear all of the homeless out of West River?"
"Yeah, sure. I remember."
"Then there's another guy who comes in for coffee – Ronald Larch. He's Carpenter’s campaign manager and he rants about the homeless, too."
"Yes. I know about him, too."
"Okay. Anyway," I continued, "I had dinner last night at the Old York Street Bistro with Anna. And Larch was there with someone I thought I recognized – and it turned out I did recognize him because he's a DEA agent."