Death by Coffee

by Alex Erickson

  I bumped up against the door with a yelp. I scrambled for the handle and pushed my way out onto the sidewalk, afraid that Raymond would follow me out and chase me clear across the street, trying to kill me with his glower. I took two quick steps back and watched the door. I knew that if he came storming outside, I was going to run screaming in the other direction, like a girl in a horror movie.

  But the door stayed closed, meaning I could keep hold of what little dignity I had left. A few pedestrians gave me odd looks as they passed. I wiped the sweat from my brow, breathed a sigh of relief, and then fumbled for my cell phone with trembling hands. I walked a few buildings down, just in case Raymond decided to come outside to check on me before I made the call.

  The phone rang twice before Paul answered with a quick “Yeah?”

  “Officer Dalton?” I asked to be sure. It was his personal number, but sometimes you never could be sure. “It’s Krissy.”

  “Oh yeah, hi!” he said, sounding oddly chipper. “I’m on duty,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

  “I know.” I vaguely wondered why he was answering his cell phone while on duty, but I shook it off. This was a small town. They did things differently here. Outside of catching a killer, he probably didn’t have much else to do.

  “So, what can I do for you? Is this about last night?” He sounded almost sheepish.

  “Sort of,” I said. “Well, I guess a lot.”

  “I thought I’d taken care of everything,” he said with a sigh. “Is Mr. Lawyer causing a problem for you?”

  “Oh, not really.” I glanced back at the Lawyer’s Insurance building and grimaced. If anyone was causing problems, it was me. “But I did think about something on my way into work today.” I made a mental note to stop by so Vicki could verify my presence.

  “What’s that?” Before I could answer, he cut me off. “Hold on a second.”

  The sound from the other side became muffled. I imagined him standing at his desk, phone pressed against his toned abs while he flexed and smiled for another officer who was asking him how he managed to be so damn cute in his uniform. Obviously, she’d melt into a slobbering puddle at the sight of his dimples.

  “Are you there?” Paul asked. I realized I’d been hearing his voice for a few seconds now.

  “Yeah, sorry,” I said. “I got distracted.”

  “It’s okay. What was it you wanted to tell me?”

  I took a deep breath. Now that I was about to say it, it sounded kind of stupid. I wasn’t a cop. I wasn’t even a detective. I was the owner of a coffee shop who just so happened to have a father who wrote mystery novels for a living and who had a knack for getting herself into trouble.

  “The dust in Brendon Lawyer’s office,” I said, figuring I best say it now, since I’d already started. “Have you tested it?”

  “For?”

  “To make sure it was real dust.”

  Silence. And then, “Real dust? What other kind is there?”

  “I mean, did you test it to see if it was peanut dust?”

  More silence. “I’m pretty sure there’d be some around, since it was in his drink. I don’t think anyone checked for sure, but I can look into it. Why?”

  “Before Officer Buchannan caught us, I’d noticed the dust was thicker beneath the air vent. There was a circle on the cabinet that could very well have been left by a coffee cup. It got me thinking. The Lawyer building is always freezing cold. It tells me they run the air nonstop. What if someone took advantage and put peanut dust in the vents so it would blow into the room?”

  Paul was silent even longer. In fact, if it wasn’t for the faint sounds in the background, I might have thought the call had dropped.

  “Still there?” I asked after I couldn’t take the silence any longer. My vision of him went from all muscles and dimples to him quietly laughing at me for having such a stupid idea. I almost told him to forget it, when he spoke.

  “I’ll look into it,” he said. “I don’t think anyone checked the vent because we’d already found the dust in the food. Everyone knew about his allergy.” I think the last wasn’t a comment for me, but more of a rumination about how anyone could have planned this because Brendon’s allergy wasn’t a secret.

  “I also learned that Raymond, Mason, and Heidi all went into Brendon’s office that morning. Beth was working the desk at the time. I’m almost positive one of them is our killer.”

  “Where did you hear this?” Paul asked.

  My mind raced. I didn’t want to tell him I’d barged into Lawyer’s Insurance, making a nuisance of myself again.

  “Beth told me,” I said. “I ran into her on my way to work.”

  “Ah.”

  “I hope that helps.”

  “It does.” He took a deep breath and huffed into the phone. “I’d better go. It’s going to take some work to convince Raymond to let us in. He thinks this is over and can be obstinate when he wants to be.”

  Among other things, I thought. “Let me know if you find anything out, okay?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t laugh at the idea. Why would he tell me anything? I wasn’t officially on the case. I wasn’t even a real detective.

  “I will,” Paul said. He sounded distracted, so I’m not so sure he realized what he was agreeing to do.

  “Talk to you soon?” I tried not to sound too hopeful, but I don’t think I did a very good job. I really wanted to see him again, outside of work, and was afraid our arrest ruined any chance of that.

  “Sure. Gotta run.” He clicked off.

  I stood there a moment more, wondering if I’d done the right thing. Brendon had hurt so many people, maybe it was better he was dead. If it wasn’t for the fact that someone had actually killed him, meaning there was a murderer on the loose, I very well might have dropped it.

  But no matter how uncomfortable I might get, I knew, in the end, I was definitely doing the right thing.

  17

  “Don’t get involved.”

  “Haven’t we had this conversation already?”

  Vicki rolled her eyes and set a cup of coffee in front of me. Without me having to say anything, she’d added the chocolate chip cookie.

  “We have,” she said, sliding into the chair across from me. “But you aren’t listening.” She rested a hand on my own. “You’ve done all you can. Now let the police do their jobs.”

  Speaking of the police, I glanced out the window toward the building across the street. A cruiser was pulled up out front, but I couldn’t tell whose. I’d missed the officer getting out of the car because a customer had spilled her coffee trying to get a better view. It had missed landing in my lap by inches.

  I was dying to go over and see who was there. Had Paul followed up on my tip himself? Or was it someone else, someone like Officer Buchannan, who wouldn’t take anything I said seriously, simply because I’d gone on a date with what appeared to be his rival within the force?

  “See,” Vicki said, cutting into my train of thought. “This is exactly what I mean. You’re looking over there like you can’t stand the thought of letting someone else do all the work. You don’t have to know everything that goes on here. Relax!”

  I forced myself to look away. “That’s not true,” I said. “I’m here, aren’t I? I could be over there this very minute, but I’m sipping coffee here with you, instead.”

  “Yeah,” Vicki said. “How is your coffee?”

  I glanced down; I had yet to touch it.

  “You might be here physically,” she went on. “I’m not so sure about mentally. You’re going to get yourself hurt if you keep at it.”

  I knew she was right, but I wasn’t about to admit it. I finally took a sip of coffee and closed my eyes. It felt good going down. I think my favorite part of it was the little bits of cookie that floated around in the caffeinated goodness.

  Death by Coffee, like usual, was dead. The name was sounding more and more ominous, the longer it took to figure out exactly what had happened to Brendon Lawyer. So far, he’d
been the only person who’d died after drinking our coffee, but that didn’t mean the rest of the town wanted to risk it. The only person I’d seen since I’d gotten there earlier was the woman who tried to scald me with her coffee. She’d left five minutes ago, leaving Vicki and me alone.

  Well, Trouble was there, too, but he was up in the bookstore, where he belonged. Chances were good that he was quietly living up to his name somewhere.

  “I just want to know what they’ve found,” I said, poking at the cookie, which had floated to the top. It would eventually soak up a good portion of the caffeine and would await consumption at the bottom of the cup. If nothing else, I had that to live for.

  “And you will,” Vicki said, “when the rest of the world does. You don’t need to go snooping around anymore.”

  I grumbled and took another sip. Mmm, cookie. “What else am I going to do with my time?”

  Vicki smiled and propped her chin on the backs of her hands. “Well, you could, I don’t know, come to work here, perhaps?”

  “And after we fold in a couple of days?”

  She sighed. “We’re not going to fold. You’ll see. Business will pick up.”

  “Seems like we’ve had this conversation, too.”

  “You know I’m right, Krissy. Things have a way of working out.”

  Unless you’re Brendon Lawyer, apparently.

  My gaze traveled back to the window. A few onlookers were doing their best not to appear as if they were, well, onlooking. They milled around outside, going up one way, and then back the other. A few women stood off to the side, whispering to each other. I thought I caught a glimpse of Eleanor Winthrow at one point, but she vanished into the pacing masses before I could be sure.

  “So, how did it go, anyway?”

  Apparently, Vicki had been talking. I turned back to her with a “Hmm?”

  “The date,” she said. “With Officer Studly.”

  I couldn’t stop the grin from rising to my face. “It went okay . . . until we got arrested.”

  Vicki’s eyes just about popped from her head as she leaned forward. “Are you serious? What did you do?”

  “Nothing bad,” I said. “We just sort of snuck into Lawyer’s Insurance and had a look around.”

  “Wait . . .” Vicki looked stunned and amused at the same time. “You convinced a cop to let you go snooping around at what very well might be a crime scene?”

  “Maybe,” I said with a smile.

  “What did you offer him?” Her eyes dropped and I instantly knew what she was thinking.

  “Of course not!” I said, actually offended. What did she take me for? “I sort of just convinced him, that’s all.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she said, as if she knew exactly how I managed it. “And you ended up getting yourself arrested.”

  “We did.” I made sure to stress the “we” part.

  “How?” She held up a hand before I could answer. “Wait. I don’t want to know.” She shook her head. “An enabler.”

  “What?”

  “He’s an enabler.”

  I didn’t have to ask who it was that she was talking about. “He is not! Maybe he just likes me.”

  “Is that how you impress a girl these days? Get her arrested when you take her to a place where somebody got murdered!”

  “It wasn’t like that. . . .”

  I was saved from further taunting when the bell above the door jingled. Both Vicki and I turned in the hopes we actually had a customer.

  “Ladies,” Officer Dalton said as he sauntered into the room.

  Vicki snorted and rose. “I’ve got a few things to do. You two have fun.” She started to walk away and then glanced back at me. “Try not to get arrested this time.” She hurried up the stairs before I could formulate a response.

  Paul walked over to where I sat. He paid Vicki only a cursory glance before turning those blue eyes on me. “She’s an odd one, isn’t she?”

  “Tell me about it,” I mumbled. “Would you like to sit?” I indicated Vicki’s recently vacated chair.

  He looked like he might say no; then he heaved a sigh and sat heavily down. He looked troubled, which wasn’t much of a surprise considering where he’d just come from. Paul was in full uniform; and I had to admit, it felt a lot warmer in the room now that he was here.

  “Did you find anything?” I asked, nodding my head toward the window.

  Paul frowned and looked down toward the table rather than meet my eyes. He started to say something, and then his frown deepened. He leaned forward and peered into my coffee cup.

  “What the hell is that?”

  By now, the chocolate chip cookie had turned into a black-and-brown lump of sugary, chocolaty goodness. It took all of my self-control not to slurp it up.

  “A cookie.”

  “Why do you have a cookie in your coffee?”

  “Because it is tasty and I like it and . . . ,” I trailed off, and gave him a helpless shrug. Sometimes there are things you just can’t explain.

  Paul shook his head as if he didn’t even want to know any longer. He turned his attention, instead, to the window and the building across the street.

  “You were right,” he said after a long moment. “It wasn’t your usual dust.”

  “You’ve tested it already?”

  “The pinky test. But the real tests won’t be in for a while.”

  “‘The pinky test’?”

  He mimed running his finger along the table and licking it. “The pinky test.”

  I shuddered. What if it had been the guy’s dandruff or something? I reminded myself to wait until he brushed his teeth a few dozen times before ever trying to kiss him again.

  “So it was peanut?”

  He nodded. “As far as I can tell. I suppose all dust could taste like that—I haven’t tasted much dust to see—but I highly doubt it.”

  “So I’m totally off the hook then? It wasn’t my coffee that killed him?”

  Paul finally met my eyes and dazzled me with his dimples. “You never were on the hook.”

  My heart did a little pitter-patter and all my muscles eased at once. I didn’t realize how tense I’d become over this. No matter how much I told myself that my coffee had nothing to do with Brendon Lawyer’s death, I’d still harbored doubts. Having it confirmed both relieved and worried me at the same time. It meant there actually was a killer out there.

  I tore my gaze away from Paul’s dimples and focused on my own hands. I needed to focus here, not get lost in the man’s facial features, no matter how dreamy they might be.

  “Did you talk to Raymond Lawyer?” I asked. “And the secretary, Beth?”

  “I have.” I could hear the amusement in Paul’s voice. “But I haven’t said anything about the dust to them yet. I don’t want word getting around. If the killer still thinks we view this as an accident, they are less likely to make a run for it.”

  I’d never even thought of it that way. “Do you think the secretary might have done it?”

  “Beth?” he asked with a laugh. “She couldn’t have hurt a fly, let alone someone like Brendon Lawyer. He’d walk all over her first. She’s just . . .” He shrugged as if that said it all.

  “Oh. I see.”

  “So I went in and told Raymond I wanted to check on a few things before we let him clean out the place,” Paul went on. “He grumbled a lot about it, but he let me in, anyway. I opened the vent and found a small amount of dust trapped up against the base. If the lip hadn’t been there, all of the evidence would have blown away.” He patted a bulge in his chest pocket, telling me he had some of the dust on him.

  “Then it’s definitely murder?” I dreaded the answer.

  “I’m not ready to say that.” Paul looked around the room as if one of the empty chairs might overhear. He frowned once more and then stood. “I should get the evidence in so we can run the proper tests,” he said. “Though I’m pretty sure I already know what we’ll find.”

  “Great.” I stood. “Let me kno
w.”

  “Even if it is peanut dust, I doubt we’ll be able to use it as evidence in court.”

  “Why not?”

  Paul sighed. “The room has sat open for a few days now. A good lawyer will say that anyone could have come in and planted the dust at any time. And really, it isn’t like we’re going to get fingerprints from the dust particles, even if we do prove that he was murdered. There were no fingerprints on the vent.”

  My stomach plummeted. “Oh.”

  He nodded distractedly. “But I will let you know what I find out.” He turned toward the door.

  My heart stopped its pitter-pattering and instead did a huge leap and a hiccup. “Paul?” I asked, too afraid to move his way, lest I scare him off.

  He stopped and turned to me. “Yeah?”

  “Is everything all right?”

  He wiped a hand over his face, looking suddenly a lot more tired than he had before. “As much as it can be, I suppose. I just found out for sure our man was probably murdered. I’m going to have to log extra hours looking into this, especially at his wife.”

  “It’s not her.” It was out of my mouth before I could stop it.

  “Why do you say that?” He didn’t sound offended or overly interested. In fact, he just sounded weary.

  “Just a hunch,” I said. “I’d focus on her mom. And maybe the mistress.” I paused. “Both of them.”

  Paul cracked the faintest of smiles, gave me one last nod, and then strode out of the building. I watched him go, wondering if I’d done something wrong. I would have thought he would have at least brought up our date, especially after Vicki’s parting jab, but there’d been nothing. Had I already ruined my chance with him? Considering my usual luck with men, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.

  Vicki came up beside me and watched Officer Dalton get into his car and drive off. Trouble was purring contentedly in her arms.

  “You hear?” I asked, unable to look away from the dwindling shape of his car.

  “I heard.”

  “Think it’ll help business? We can advertise that our coffee doesn’t actually cause death.”

  She snorted a laugh. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Paul’s car vanished around the corner and my world got just a bit darker. Trouble batted me once on the arm as if to tell me to forget about Paul; there were a lot of men in Pine Hills.