Cappuccino Corpse

by Jinty James

  “I was so certain it was the judge,” Suzanne said once they’d eaten. “But now, with the car accident …”

  “Exactly,” Maddie replied. That thought had been troubling her on the short journey home. “What if it wasn’t an accident? What if the person who killed Dave Dantzler just tried to kill the judge?”

  “But why?” Suzanne wrinkled her nose. “Do you think Mr. Grenville knows more than he’s letting on?”

  “Or maybe the killer thinks that.”

  The two of them stared at each other.

  “Yeah!” Suzanne nodded her head, her ponytail bobbing. “The murderer must have thought he was in danger in some way from Mr. Grenville and decided to silence him.”

  “Except it didn’t work – I don’t think,” Maddie said. “Because Mr. Grenville is still alive.”

  “We won’t know for sure until we visit him in the hospital.” Suzanne scraped back her kitchen chair and paced the room. “I think we should go and visit him right now.”

  Maddie checked her watch. It was over an hour since Detective Edgewater had left for the hospital. Surely he would have finished questioning the judge by now?”

  “Okay,” she replied. “But I think we should check what the visiting hours are first. There’s no point going over there tonight if it’s too late for visitors.”

  “Agreed.”

  Maddie glanced at Trixie as she called the hospital. The Persian was finishing her meal, licking her lips with obvious enjoyment – and seemingly oblivious to the conversation. Did that mean she and Suzanne didn’t have to worry about the judge coming to harm while in the hospital?

  She really wished there was a spell in Wytchcraft for the Chosen that would allow her to speak and understand cat.

  After talking to a hospital staff member, Maddie ended the call. “Visiting hours are until eight tonight.”

  “Let’s go!” Suzanne grabbed her purse. “We can just make it there in time.”

  “You stay here, Trixie,” Maddie told the cat, who was wandering into the living room, appearing uninterested for once in the goings on.

  “I wonder why Trixie isn’t curious about the situation,” Suzanne said once they were in Maddie’s car.

  “I know,” she agreed as they drove to the hospital. “All I can think of is there isn’t any immediate danger, and nothing in the book to help us right now.”

  They arrived at the hospital with seven minutes to spare. After being directed to the correct wing, they slowed their pace once they reached the right hallway, the beige and white painted walls adding to the blandness of the building.

  “I don’t think we should barge in there,” Maddie murmured to Suzanne as they approached room 319. The smell of disinfectant stung her nostrils.

  “Okay,” Suzanne said reluctantly, glancing at her watch. “We only have four minutes, though.”

  Maddie knocked on the partly open door. “Hello?” she called out.

  A passing nurse frowned at them as she walked past in rubber soled shoes. “Visiting hours are almost over.”

  “We know.” Suzanne flashed her a smile. “We only just found out about—”

  “Don’t be long,” the nurse admonished them, as she passed them.

  “Phew!” Suzanne muttered under her breath.

  “Come in.” A low male voice called out to them.

  Maddie pushed open the door and smiled tentatively at the judge. He sat in bed with the sheets pulled up to his waist and sported a large white dressing on the side of his forehead.

  “Hi, Mr. Grenville,” Maddie said. “We heard you were in an accident and—”

  “We wanted to see how you were,” Suzanne jumped in.

  “That’s nice of you,” he said, closing his eyes, as if tired. “I’ve got broken ribs, and this.” He pointed to the bandage on his head. “Ms. Goodwell and Ms. Taylor, right?”

  “Do you know who did this to you?” Suzanne asked eagerly.

  “No one.” He shook his head and then winced.

  “What do you mean?” Maddie asked.

  “It was my own stupid fault.” He grimaced. “Nearly every time I’ve braked lately when driving the car, I’ve heard a squeaking noise. I thought it was dust in the brakes and I’d get around to taking it to the mechanic when I had time.”

  “What happened?” Suzanne asked.

  “I was rounding a corner and the brakes failed.” He shook his head, the movement making him wince again. “I crashed into that large pine tree on the corner of Basin Road. Do you know it?”

  “Yes,” Maddie replied, thinking the judge was lucky he was still alive.

  “If only I hadn’t put off getting the brakes checked out.”

  “But how do you know it was … natural causes?” Suzanne asked, leaning forward. “Maybe someone cut your brake lines.”

  “Suzanne!” Maddie whispered.

  “Why would anyone do that?” The judge looked puzzled.

  “Because you know something and the killer knows you know something,” Suzanne informed him.

  “Killer?” He frowned. “Oh, you mean whoever murdered Dave Dantzler.”

  “Yes!”

  Suzanne seemed to have gone from insisting the judge was guilty to acting like he was innocent. But, Maddie had to concede, his car accident did seem a strange coincidence.

  “We were told Dave falsely accused you on his radio show,” Maddie said delicately.

  “Yes.” Mr. Grenville sank back against the pillows. “It’s true, he did accuse me of taking bribes when I appeared on his show last year. He didn’t care about the truth – just about his ratings.”

  “What happened?” Maddie asked gently, exchanging a look with Suzanne.

  “He wouldn’t allow me to explain what had really happened. I was exonerated years ago. It was actually another judge on the coffee circuit who had been taking bribes. When he was discovered, he fled to another state – Maine, I think.” He waved a hand. “It was in the newspapers at the time – you can check. Once the truth came out, my reputation mostly recovered, but when Dave raked it all up again last year, I couldn’t believe it.”

  “What did you do?” Suzanne held her breath, waiting for his answer.

  “Nothing.” He let out a short, mirthless laugh. “The damage had been done, and this time it’s lasted. These days, people aren’t interested in researching allegations to find out if they’re even true. They prefer to believe whoever is casting aspersions on another person, even when it’s scurrilous lies. So I found myself not being asked to judge major coffee competitions anymore, even though the local newspaper printed the truth.”

  “That must have been disappointing,” Suzanne sympathized.

  “Yes.” Mr. Grenville looked exhausted. “The only bright side – if you can call it that – was that I’d been thinking of slowing down my schedule anyway, preparatory to retirement. But that decision was taken out of my hands.” He sighed. “Now I’m lucky to be invited to judge competitions such as the one you won, Maddie.”

  “I’m sorry,” Maddie said, her tone sincere.

  “It was kind of you to visit me,” he said, closing his eyes once more. “But I’m afraid I’m very tired. Would you think it rude of me if I wanted to rest now?”

  “Of course not,” Suzanne and Maddie said together.

  “Take care,” Maddie added, as they walked quietly out of the room. She pulled the door shut after them.

  “Poor man.” Suzanne shook her head as they walked down the hallway.

  “I know.”

  “But—” Suzanne grabbed Maddie’s arm. “What if those brakes were cut? And what if he cut them himself?”

  “Why would he do that?” Maddie crinkled her brow.

  “To divert suspicion away from himself,” Suzanne declared.

  “And risk killing himself at the same time?” Maddie’s tone was skeptical.

  “We don’t know what goes through a killer’s mind,” Suzanne told her. “Hey!” She lowered her voice. “Did you try the Te
ll the Truth spell on him in there?”

  “No,” Maddie admitted. She’d been so caught up in the judge’s explanation that it hadn’t crossed her mind. “He seemed honest and sincere to me.”

  “I know.” Suzanne blew out a breath and started walking down the hallway. “I really felt sorry for him in there, and I thought I believed what he said. And then when we came out of the room and I thought about brakes and how someone could cut them, I thought what if …?”

  “Sometimes thinking that way can be dangerous,” Maddie told her as they reached the parking lot.

  “Yeah.”

  Maddie pulled out of the parking lot and headed home. When she pressed on the brakes, she was relieved to find they didn’t squeak.

  “If your brakes start squeaking, you better get them checked out ASAP.” Suzanne’s voice broke the silence. “Just in case a squeak means worn brake pads.”

  “Exactly what I was just thinking,” Maddie replied, glad they’d be home in a few minutes.

  When she parked outside her house, she turned to Suzanne. “Want to come in?”

  “Thanks, but I better head home.” She yawned, her hand covering her mouth. “The first thing I’m going to do tomorrow is call Detective Edgewater and find out what really happened to the judge’s car – whether the brake line was cut, or if it really was natural wear and tear.”

  CHAPTER 17

  The next morning, Maddie watched Suzanne attempt to call Detective Edgewater between coffee orders.

  Trixie sat on her stool in the early morning sun, lazily waving a paw to her favorite customers.

  Their Saturday morning rush was in full swing, with customers gobbling up two varieties of health balls – maple macadamia and cacao coconut.

  “Finally!” Suzanne muttered as she held her cell phone to her ear. Maddie could hear the faint sound of ringing on the other end of the line.

  Maddie heard her friend’s part of the conversation as she made a large vanilla latte for an elderly man, smiling at him as she handed him the drink and taking his money, while Suzanne was occupied.

  “Okay, detective. Thanks.” Suzanne ended the call. “He said he’s going to come over and tell us what happened last night to the judge. Oh, and he asked for a large vanilla cappuccino and two health balls, ready to go.”

  “Okay.” Maddie set to work, making the detective’s favorite drink.

  Suzanne practically hopped with impatience as she waited for Detective Edgewater to arrive. When he finally lumbered into view, she rushed to the serving window. Luckily, there were no other customers around, so the three of them could talk in relative privacy.

  “Here you go, detective.” Maddie handed him the large paper cup and a small bag holding the health balls. They’d decided to give him one of each flavor, since he hadn’t specified on the phone.

  “Thanks.” He took a sip of the coffee, his face creasing into a smile. “I’m glad you won that competition, Miss Goodwell. You deserved to.”

  “Thanks.” Maddie smiled.

  “That’s seven ninety, please.” Suzanne held out her hand for the money.

  “No wonder you girls make a living at this.” He mock-grumbled, pulling out some bills from his wallet.

  “Now tell us what happened to the judge’s car,” Suzanne urged.

  Trixie sat up straight on her stool, her ears pricked.

  The detective took the demand in a good-humored manner.

  “No foul play was involved last night,” he pronounced after another sip of his coffee. “Those brake pads were worn away.” He tsked. “If you ever hear your brakes squeak, you better get them checked out ASAP.”

  “We will,” Maddie vowed.

  “It was lucky he wasn’t injured more severely,” the detective continued. “That tree will never be the same, though, on Basin Road. They’re talking about cutting it down.”

  “Oh.” Maddie had often walked past the huge pine tree, marveling at its height and strong proportions.

  “So there was no possibility his brakes could have been tampered with?” Suzanne doublechecked.

  “None at all,” Detective Edgewater reassured her.

  “But what about his heart medication?” Suzanne persisted. “If his car crash last night was an accident, he could have still slipped Dave Dantzler an overdose of digoxin in his coffee.” She frowned at the detective. “Was Dave on heart medication? You haven’t told us yet.”

  He sighed. “No, he wasn’t. And I looked into Mr. Grenville, the judge, Miss Taylor. He’s on a medication that contains nitroglycerine, not digoxin. So he appears to be in the clear. We’ll be focusing our inquiries in other areas.”

  “Oh,” Maddie said. She was pleased that it looked like the judge was innocent – she’d taken a liking to the man – but where did that leave their investigation? Hers and Suzanne’s – and Trixie’s?

  CHAPTER 18

  “It must be someone from the radio station,” Suzanne declared when Detective Edgewater had departed.

  “You could be right,” Maddie agreed.

  “Mrrow?” Trixie inquired.

  “Do you want to come with us to the radio station, Trixie?” Suzanne leaned down and spoke to the cat.

  “Mrrow!” Trixie tilted her head, as if liking the idea of another outing.

  “This afternoon?” Maddie suggested. “We’ll be closing at lunchtime today.”

  “Perfect!”

  “Do you think they’ll have staff who work there on the weekend?” Maddie posed the question.

  “They must have,” Suzanne said. “Although, if the right person isn’t there to talk to us, we can go back on Monday. But at least we’re doing something about it.”

  “By it, I suppose you mean unmasking the killer.”

  “Yep.”

  Another wave of customers stopped by. When they departed, Suzanne turned to Maddie. “Are you going to cast the Coffee Vision spell today?”

  “I guess.” So much had happened since last weekend – was it really only a week since the coffee festival? – that she hadn’t felt compelled to cast the Coffee Vision spell for herself, Suzanne, or her customers.

  “It might help us with our visit to the radio station this afternoon,” Suzanne suggested.

  “Okay.” Maddie made herself a mocha, staring into the microfoam. She focused her mind, the presence of Suzanne and Trixie receding to the background. “Show me,” she whispered.

  The foam swirled, then cleared. An image of herself, Suzanne, and Trixie in an office appeared on the surface of the coffee. A lady in her sixties was petting Trixie and making a fuss of her, something that the cat seemed to be enjoying.

  “Well?” Suzanne asked eagerly when Maddie blinked and returned to the present.

  “What did you see?”

  “Not much,” she confessed, rapidly filling in Suzanne on her vision.

  “Oh.” Suzanne seemed a little disappointed. “At least it looks like Trixie will be enjoying herself this afternoon, though.”

  “Mrrow!” Trixie agreed.

  Maddie and Suzanne closed the truck at lunchtime, Suzanne hopping with impatience. They drove the truck back to Maddie’s house, then grabbed her car.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever visited the radio station,” Suzanne said as they drove to the edge of town. Trixie sat in the back seat, glancing through the closed window with interest, looking cute in her turquoise harness. Maddie periodically checked on her through the rear-view mirror.

  “Me neither,” Maddie agreed, as they neared the one-story brown brick building. She parked in the visitor’s lot.

  “How are we going to play this?” Suzanne asked as they walked toward the entrance.

  “We could tell them we’re sorry to hear about Dave’s death and that we were wondering if my interview will go ahead some time in the future?” Maddie suggested.

  “Good idea.” Suzanne nodded.

  They opened the glass entrance door and walked inside. An unmanned reception desk faced them.

 
; Maddie and Suzanne turned to each other.

  “Now what?” Maddie murmured.

  But Trixie seemed to know where to go. With a little “Mrrow,” she pulled Maddie to the right, down a short hallway.

  “Well, hello there, little one.” A woman in her sixties with short, silvery hair greeted Trixie.

  Maddie stilled. It was the woman from the Coffee Vision spell! Although she’d been casting this spell for twenty years, she never failed to be surprised when she met the person she’d seen in an image on the surface of a freshly brewed coffee, especially if that person was a stranger.

  Trixie purred and tilted her head up to the elderly lady, as if inviting the woman to stroke her.

  “Oh, hello.” The woman smiled at Maddie and Suzanne. “I didn’t see you there at first. I was too busy looking at this little one.”

  “She has that effect on people,” Maddie said wryly. “Her name is Trixie.”

  “What a pretty name for a pretty cat,” the senior cooed at Trixie. The feline lapped up the attention, chirping a happy “Mrrow” at the woman.

  “I’m Maddie and this is Suzanne,” Maddie introduced themselves.

  “We wanted to stop by and say we were sorry about Dave’s death,” Suzanne jumped in.

  The woman tsked. “It was terrible. Oh, I didn’t introduce myself.” She looked a little flustered. “I’m Judy.”

  “We didn’t see a receptionist when we came in,” Suzanne said. “Trixie led us here.”

  “She was right.” Judy smiled down at the cat. “We have a skeleton staff on the weekends. Apart from the radio hosts, I’m usually the only employee on duty.”

  “We were wondering if Maddie’s interview would be played on the station one day,” Suzanne said innocently. “You see, Dave interviewed her last Saturday at the coffee festival. She won the competition and will be competing in the big Seattle competition next month.”

  “Congratulations.” The senior beamed at them.

  “Thank you,” Maddie replied.

  “I’ll have to come and try your coffee one day. Where are you?”