Macchiatos and Murder (Cup of Jo 1)

by Kelly Hashway

  Macchiatos and Murder

  Cup of Jo Book 1

  Kelly Hashway

  Copyright © 2020 Kelly Hashway

  All rights reserved.

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  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual places or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, copied, or recorded without written permission from the author.

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  The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks mentioned in this book. Trademarks are not sponsored or endorsed by the trademark owners.

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  Cover design ©Red Umbrella Graphic Designs

  To Ayla with love

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Also by USA Today Bestselling Author Kelly Hashway

  Writing as USA Today Bestselling Author Ashelyn Drake

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  “Every great day begins with a great cup of coffee.” That’s always been my mother’s motto. It’s been engrained in me since childhood. With a name like Joanna Coffee, my choice of profession was basically chosen for me at birth. Almost literally. I was born in a coffee shop. My parents’ coffee shop to be exact. Mom was sure she could serve just a few more customers before I made an appearance. Turns out she was wrong. I was born behind the coffee counter. And to make things worse, she and Dad thought it would be clever to name me Joanna and lovingly call me Jo. As in “cup of joe.” Yeah, my name is essentially Coffee Coffee. They didn’t even give me a middle name to try to mask their caffeine addictions. Nope. But I still have it better than my younger sister, Maura. Mo as we call her. Yup. She’s Mo Coffee. If you haven’t had your morning fix of caffeine yet, I’ll give you a minute to process that one.

  So, what’s a girl with a name like mine to do? Open a coffee shop, clearly. Right in the center of town. Now, I know what you’re thinking. I probably named it something like “Cup of Jo” to cleverly play on my coffee-obsessed name, right? You’d be correct. I am my parents’ daughter, after all. I’m hoping this will be where all the locals come for their coffee breaks. People in Bennett Falls are usually really supportive of each other, but I did leave for college and the three years following that to avoid my ex, who happens to be a local police detective. I’m hoping people haven’t forgotten me.

  A knock on the front door draws my attention since it’s 5:32 a.m. and I haven’t officially opened yet. I look up to see Maura smiling widely and waving her hand like she’s trying to warm it up from the cold. I rush over to unlock the door for her.

  “What are you doing up so early?” I ask.

  “I have to be at work for a six o’clock meeting this morning, but I wanted to come by and wish you luck on your first day.” Mo hugs me and then looks around the place.

  I call this place a coffee shop, but I only have four small tables. I don’t expect many people to actually sit here and drink their coffee. It’s more of a coffee to-go kind of establishment. It’s all decorated in black and white to match the blackboard menu along the back wall. The only real pops of color are from the neon-colored chalk I use on the blackboards.

  “Man, you have way better penmanship than I do,” Mo says.

  “Don’t be too impressed. I rewrote the specials board six times already today.” I have some artistic ability, and I wanted to draw a macchiato to go with wording for the daily special.

  Mo walks over to the glass display case with the baked goods. “Oh my God. Did Cam bake all of these?”

  Camden Turner grew up with Mo and me. He lives across the street and was in my grade in school. I suspected Mo had a crush on him in high school, but he’s always treated her like his younger sister. “He did. He dropped them off about twenty minutes ago. He went back to get more.”

  “Is he dating anyone?” she asks me, walking around the counter to pour herself a cup of coffee.

  “Not that I know of. Why? Are you interested?”

  She laughs. “Me? He’s always had a thing for you.”

  “You think so?” Cam has known me my entire life, including the awkward preteen years where I wore braces and shot up to five foot six before all the boys had their growth spurts.

  Mo shakes her head and takes a sip of coffee before adding more creamer. As she uses a wooden stirrer, she looks up at me. “You’re hopeless, Jo. When was the last time you were even on a date?”

  “It’s been a few months.” I bob one shoulder. With the grand opening of Cup of Jo, I’ve been a little busy applying for loans, finding this location, decorating, and coming up with the perfect coffee menu. Not to mention I had to strike up a deal with Cam so there would be actual food in this establishment. The only things I can bake come from boxes.

  “A few months? Since when is ten considered a few?”

  Has it been that long?

  She tosses the stirrer in the garbage to the side of the counter and approaches me. “Look, big sis, I know you’re in a ‘reinventing yourself’ phase of life after…” She waves her hand, implying I know whom she’s talking about.

  “You can say his name.”

  “The point is, I never thought you’d come back to Bennett Falls, but you did. And look at you now.”

  I wasn’t about to let Quentin Perry drive me away from the town I love. So what if he broke my heart after we’d been dating for five years? So what if he cheated on me with Samantha Shaw, my best friend in high school? I hope they’re very happy together. Mostly.

  Truth be told, the incident drove me out of town for years. I went across the country to live with my aunt and figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Then I came to my senses and decided to face life head-on. The lease on this space was a sign that opening my own business was meant to be. Mom and Dad couldn’t be happier since I’m following in their footsteps and putting my business degree to good use. And since their coffee shop is located in a neighboring town, I’m not exactly their competition in the strictest sense.

  Cam appears at the door with a handcart loaded with pastry boxes. I rush over to open the door for him.

  “How much did you bring? I’m not even sure that will all fit in the display case.”

  Cam wheels the cart to the counter. “I figured you’d want to offer free samples. It is a grand opening, after all. You want to pull people inside so they buy something.”

  “Aw,” Mo says, clasping her hands in front of her. “You’re offering free samples to help Jo get customers. You’re so sweet, Cam.”

  Cam smiles at me, the dimple on his right cheek appearing. “I have a vested interest in this place.”

  “I bet you do,” Mo says, winking at me as Cam starts to fill the display case.

  I step toward Mo and whisper, “He means because I order the pastries from him. Don’t read anything else into that comment.”

  “Sure. Sure.” Mo checks her watch. “Oh, I’m going to be late for my meeting.”

  “Relax. Your office is literally across the street.” She works in the social media department of a pretty big advertising company.

  “I know. I love that we’ll be so close. This location couldn’t be more ideal.”

  She’
s right. I’m smack in the middle of town, on Main Street where all the action happens. It should be great for business. Of course, she thinks it’s ideal because she drinks about six cups of coffee a day.

  Mo hugs me. “Good luck. I’ll stop by on my lunch break. Bye, Cam.”

  “Bye, Mo.” Cam gives a quick wave as Mo heads out. “I’ll put the extra in the back storage area.”

  “Thanks, Cam. That’ll be great.” I glance up at the clock on the wall, which has little coffee cups instead of numbers because it’s always time for coffee. Only five minutes until I officially open. I rub my palms together.

  “Nervous?” Cam asks, suddenly right behind me.

  I jump. “Oh! I didn’t realize you were there.”

  “Sorry.” He places his hands on my shoulders to steady me on my feet. “You’re going to do great, Jo. And in case I haven’t mentioned it, I’m really glad you decided to come back home.”

  “Thanks. I am, too.” And as long as I don’t have a run-in with the law, I should be able to avoid Detective Quentin Perry. Avoiding his fiancée, Samantha, might prove to be more difficult since she owns the flower shop next door. Since we even went to college together, I think her betrayal hurt more than Quentin’s. And worse, she still acts like we’re friends.

  Cam clears his throat and lets go of me. “Well, I guess I should let you get to work.”

  “Wait. You have to be the first to try today’s special.”

  Cam puts his hands in his jeans pockets. “Sure, but I admit I’ve never actually had a macchiato before.” He gestures with his elbow toward the specials board on the ground beside the counter. “I’m not even sure what it is.”

  “It’s a double shot of espresso with a splash of milk and topped with a dollop of foam. Guaranteed to wake you right up. Of course, you’ve been up since three, so I’m sure you’re already wide awake.” I get to work making the macchiato.

  “I can always use a caffeine boost,” he says, leaning on the countertop. “I wouldn’t know how to work those machines you have there. They look fancy and way too complicated.”

  “It’s easy once you get the hang of it.” I hand him his macchiato, and he removes his wallet from his back pocket. “Oh, no. This is on the house.”

  “But I want to be your first sale.”

  “Sorry, Cam, but your money is no good here. Especially after you brought free samples for me to give away.”

  He holds up a finger. “I forgot one thing.” He reaches into a box still on his handcart and pulls out an oversized black coffee mug with the word “tips” written across it in fancy white lettering. “I had this made for you.” He places it on the counter beside the register. “It matches your color scheme.”

  “Cam, that’s so thoughtful. Thank you.”

  He places a ten-dollar bill inside the mug.

  “No—”

  He holds up a hand. “I insist. It’s for good luck. Don’t spend it. Just keep it in the mug.”

  I nod. “Thank you, Cam. Really. I couldn’t do this without you.”

  “Sure, you could. But it’s good to be working together. We always did make a great team.” He pats my hand on the counter before grabbing the cart and wheeling it outside.

  I follow him to the door, where I flip the closed sign around to officially open for business.

  My morning is a whirlwind. One of the perks to living in a small town like Bennett Falls is everyone knows everyone else. So, when news spread that I was back in town and opening up Cup of Jo, people flocked to not only wish me well, but to get their macchiato fixes and free banana chocolate chip mini muffins.

  I don’t think I’ve had a free second all morning. And despite thinking this would be strictly a to-go kind of establishment, all four tables have been occupied since I opened. I’m debating my first bathroom break when Samantha walks in. She smiles at me and rushes over.

  “Oh, Jo, this place is just adorable. I love it.”

  “Thanks. What can I get for you, Samantha?” I stopped calling her Sam when I found out about her and Quentin.

  “I’ll take the special, of course. And I heard you’re giving away muffins.”

  I could be petty and tell her I ran out, but I’d rather give her a mini muffin and hope she chokes on it. I plaster a smile on my face and slide the tray of free samples across the counter toward her. “Help yourself.”

  She takes one, and I turn my back to start making her macchiato.

  “Oh, hi, Mr. Cromwell,” Samantha says in a sickeningly sweet voice she reserves for people with money. And considering she’s talking to Sherman Cromwell, that makes sense. He’s our local millionaire. Old money, too. He comes from generations of wealthy relatives. I don’t think he’s actually worked a day in his life. He makes money by investing in other people’s businesses.

  “Ms. Shaw, a pleasure as always. It’s nice to see so many in town out to support Joanna’s new business venture.” By the warmth in his voice, I can tell he genuinely means it.

  “Oh, it is. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. I’m just so happy for Jo-Jo.”

  I cringe at the nickname. It was what Samantha called me as a child. Why she’s choosing to use it now, I have no idea. I hand her the macchiato. “Here you go, Samantha. What can I get for you, Mr. Cromwell?” I ask, immediately dismissing Samantha.

  “I’ll have the same, thank you.”

  “Please help yourself to a free mini muffin while you wait.” I motion to the tray on the counter.

  “Thank you. Don’t mind if I do. And I think I’ll get a box of pastries to bring home for Gwen.” He scans the display case as I make the macchiato.

  “I’ll bag up some mini muffins for her as well,” I say.

  “Mr. Cromwell, you dropped this.”

  “Thank you, Samantha. These are my secret to a healthy life. No medication. Just a good old fashion multivitamin every day.”

  “And pastries, right?” she jokes.

  “Yes. Speaking of, I think I’ll go with the cream puffs. A dozen should do. And you keep those mini muffins for your other customers, Joanna. You’re running a business here. Free samples should draw people in, not be taken to go.”

  “Thank you for the tip, Mr. Cromwell.” I cap his macchiato and place it on the counter.

  He smiles and puts a five-dollar bill in the tip mug.

  “Oh, no. When I said ‘tip’ I meant ‘suggestion.’ You don’t need to tip me.”

  “That’s what the tip mug is for, isn’t it?” He cocks his head and winks at me.

  I place the cream puffs in a pastry box before ringing him up. He hands me a twenty-dollar bill, and as I’m counting out his change, he shakes his head.

  “Best of luck to you, Joanna.”

  “Thank you.” What a nice man. He tipped me twice. I’ve never interacted with him much over the years, but he was always at the important town events.

  “It’s a shame he didn’t invest in your business, Jo,” Samantha says, finishing the last of her macchiato and depositing her to-go cup in the garbage. “I’m sure you could have used that money. I can’t imagine the loan was easy to get.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I haven’t been able to take a bathroom break all morning,” I say, trying to remain pleasant when, really, I just want her to go away.

  “I’ll be happy to watch the counter for you,” Samantha says.

  I turn and head for the small bathroom next to the storage space. Samantha isn’t a mean person. She’s too dense to realize she did something wrong. She thinks the fact that she loves Quentin justifies breaking us up. I just don’t have the energy to explain to her why I’ll never be her friend again. I won’t be surprised if I get an invitation to her wedding.

  I’m retying my apron and walking back to the counter when I hear the police sirens. “What’s going on?” I ask to anyone who will answer.

  Samantha comes running back inside with her hand to her chest. “It’s horrible. It’s Sherman Cromwell. He collapsed on the sidewalk. He’
s dead.”

  Chapter Two

  Nothing derails a grand opening like a dead body. Everyone in the shop is in a frenzy. Faces are pressed to the glass since the police are asking everyone to stay off the street while they work. I’m not surprised Samantha not only got out there but got close enough to identify the body. Dating a police detective has certain perks, I suppose.

  “Did anyone see what happened?” a woman seated at a table in the corner asks.

  “I saw it,” Mickey Baldwin says. “I was looking out the window when it happened. One minute he was walking down the sidewalk, drinking his coffee. Then he sort of stopped, staggered, and just went down.”

  “Did he hit his head on the sidewalk?” the woman asks.

  “Oh, definitely,” Samantha says. “I saw the blood. I was right next to the body. It was just awful.”

  My cell phone rings, and I remove it from my pocket beneath my apron. Mo’s image fills my display. “Hello?”

  “Jo, what is going on out there? I heard the sirens, but I can’t see past all the police on the street from my office window. Are you okay? It looks like they’re all right outside your shop.”

  “It’s Sherman Cromwell. He’s dead.”

  “Dead? How?”

  “I don’t know. He was just in here, and he was fine when he left.”

  “Have the police spoken to you yet?”

  “No, but I’m sure they’ll come in when they’re finished out there to see if anyone saw anything.”

  “Do you want me to come there?”

  “No. They don’t want anyone on the street. Besides, it doesn’t make sense for you to get involved. You were nowhere near Mr. Cromwell when it happened.”