Death by Coffee

by Alex Erickson

  “I can’t,” she said. “I can’t go to jail. It would be the end of my life.”

  “Just lower the weapon,” Paul said. He kept his aim on her, but his eyes flickered my way. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, but when was the last time I ever listened to reason?

  I moved slowly around the room, hopefully putting myself out of Tessa’s line of sight. My heart was hammering so loud, I was afraid she might hear me coming. A half-dozen more steps and I’d be there.

  “You don’t understand.” Her voice had gone pleading, as if she thought she might convince him that none of this was her fault. “Brendon made me do it when he cheated on me and then tried to steal Heidi from me. He’d made his decision. He wanted someone else and he should have stayed with her. Why did he have to try to take everything from me?”

  My foot kicked a hanger that had been lying on the floor. Tessa’s head spun around to face me. Her mouth was open in an O of surprise as I leapt at her.

  A gun went off as I crashed into her. Pain seared through my elbow, causing me to cry out. There was a clatter as Tessa’s gun fell to the floor. We collapsed atop each other—me trying to keep from whimpering about my arm, Tessa scrambling to get away.

  And then firm hands grabbed me from behind and pulled me from her. As soon as I was on my feet, I sank right back down to the floor, dizzy and sick. Paul was on Tessa and had her zip stripped before either of us knew what had happened.

  The world did a few loop de loops and I leaned back against the counter, cradling my injured arm against my chest. I vaguely wondered if I was going to bleed to death.

  “You all right?” Paul asked from somewhere a million miles away.

  “Yeah,” I said dreamily. My angel had saved me. “Peachy keen.”

  And then, just to prove that my life was indeed something out of a movie, the lights in my head flashed a few times before fading entirely. Then, with barely a whimper, I passed out.

  29

  Sweat poured down my face as I rushed from table to table, trying to get it clean before the next customer was seated. There was a line at the counter and Vicki was doing her best to keep up with it while not neglecting her duties upstairs.

  Death by Coffee was buzzing. After my not-so-heroic chase and apprehension of Tessa Belkenni—I’d learned her last name earlier in the week—the store had suddenly picked up. Not surprisingly, people were interested in dining in a place where a hero worked. Even Judith Banyon had made an appearance, though she didn’t look too happy about it and had left within two minutes. Baby steps, right?

  I finished wiping down my tables and hurried back to Vicki.

  “I told you it would pick up,” she said with a grin.

  “Now I just hope it slows down.”

  She laughed and scurried up the stairs to the bookstore, where Trouble was watching the flood of people from atop a bookshelf, his fluffy tail firmly wrapped around his body so no one could step on it.

  Eventually the rush died down enough to where I could breathe. I leaned against the counter, pooped beyond belief, and closed my eyes.

  “Time for a break?”

  I just about jumped clear out of my shoes. Paul Dalton stood there, smiling at me, dazzling me with his dimples.

  “Go,” Vicki said, coming down to take my place. “I’ve got this.”

  Who was I to argue?

  Paul led me to one of the few empty tables. I practically fell into my chair. My feet hurt so badly, I wanted to rub them, but I didn’t think it would be seemly to pull off my shoes in the middle of the store. Maybe if Paul was interested in doing the job for me, I’d be willing. A good foot rub never hurt anyone.

  “Getting busy, I see,” he said with a smile.

  “It is.”

  “How’s your arm?” Did I detect real concern in his voice?

  I flexed my arm a few times and smiled. “Good as new.”

  “Good.”

  Tessa’s shot hadn’t hit anything but the ceiling, much to my amazement. When we’d fallen, I’d managed to catch my elbow on the corner of the counter and jammed it pretty good. The bruise was immense, but I wasn’t going to bleed to death from that. I’d take a bruise over a hole in the arm any day.

  “It was pretty stupid what you did, you know?” He said it with a smile, though I could tell he meant it.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, all innocence. “I stopped her, didn’t I?”

  “You did.” He laughed, showing me his dimples again. “But I had everything under control. You didn’t need to put yourself in harm’s way like that. It was dangerous. You could have been hurt.”

  “I was,” I said, lifting my arm to show him, as if he’d forgotten.

  He sighed. “Well, it could have been worse.”

  “What’s happening with Tessa?” I asked, trying to change the subject from my near-death experience.

  Paul leaned back in his chair and stretched. He was in his uniform, which I noted was just a tad bit snug. He should buy all of his clothes that size.

  “She’s being charged with Brendon Lawyer’s murder, among other things. She’s given in and pleaded guilty, though she still insists it was an accident.”

  I nodded. So far, no one had asked me to give much more than a statement. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to go to court to testify against her or anything. In a way I did feel bad for the girl; she’d had her heart broken pretty badly.

  “I still don’t get it,” I said. “She timed everything so well. I keep thinking Raymond knew something and asked Beth and Brendon into his office so Tessa could sneak in unseen. He had to have been involved.”

  “No, he wasn’t,” Paul said. “When I got your message that he might have killed his son, I headed in to talk with him to see if I missed anything the first time I was there.”

  My face reddened. Boy, had I been wrong about that or what?

  “He was understandably upset about being implicated in Brendon’s death.” Paul chuckled. “But he did tell me a few things he’d left out before.”

  “Such as?”

  “Turns out Raymond didn’t know Brendon was sleeping with Beth until earlier that day. He wasn’t happy about it, so he called both of them into his office to yell at them. He wanted them to break it off. Little did he know, Brendon had already broken up with Beth, but the secretary hadn’t let on. She was still telling her friends they were seeing each other, which, by the way, was how Raymond found out.”

  “So it was just a coincidence that Tessa showed up at the exact moment Brendon wasn’t there?”

  “Well, she knew when he took his lunch and had gone in to see him then. When they’d been together, she’d often visit him and they’d do more than just eat behind closed doors.”

  I reddened slightly, my mind going places it probably shouldn’t.

  “She figured she’d stop by like she used to, attack him, and then leave,” Paul went on, oblivious to my embarrassment. “When no one was there, she did just what she said she did.” He sighed. “Really, it all could have been avoided if Brendon didn’t treat women like they were there simply to be used and discarded. I would never do something like that.”

  Was that a glimmer I saw in his eye? I couldn’t stop the smile.

  “Raymond blames himself,” Paul said, glancing toward the building across the street. “It’s why he wasn’t willing to help before. He thought we’d find some way to blame him for his son’s death, or shut down his business. The man is pretty self-centered, which didn’t help matters one bit.”

  “At least it’s over,” I said.

  Paul only nodded.

  We sat in silence a moment, each mulling over the last few days. It’s hard to believe everything had happened in such a short amount of time.

  Suddenly I remembered something that had been bothering me.

  “Hey, Paul,” I asked, drawing his attention back to me. “Do you use Facebook?”

  “Sure, why?”

  “Well, I sort of sent you a request and . . .
” My face flushed. Now that I was asking, it sounded stupid.

  “Sorry.” He grinned. “I’ve been so busy, I haven’t checked it in a few days.”

  “So you aren’t mad at me or anything?”

  For an answer he pulled out his cell phone, brought up the Facebook app, and clicked a button. A moment later I received the notification that I had a new friend.

  “Not at all.”

  The bell above the door jangled and a familiar sound met my ears.

  “Oh, my Lordy-Lou!” Rita cried. She saw where I was sitting and rushed over, Andi and Georgina right behind her. “You’re a celebrity!” she said. “You’re just like your father.”

  I groaned, which only caused Paul to laugh.

  “I’ll let you get back to work,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you were still doing okay.” He rose, tipped an imaginary hat, and then headed out the door. Rita immediately took his place.

  “I heard all about it,” she said. “I mean, to catch a killer in your very own store.” She hugged herself in delight. “This is my favorite place in all of the world. I’m going to come here every day, spend all my time writing in this very spot.” She tapped the table and looked around the room like she’d never seen the place before. “This is perfect.”

  Kill me now, I thought, but instead smiled. “Great,” I said. “I can always reserve a place for you.” I didn’t tell her I planned on making it in the back of the room, as far away from the counter as possible.

  “That would be lovely!” she said. “Won’t it, ladies?”

  Both Andi and Georgina readily agreed.

  I got to my feet, which protested at being used so soon after such a short rest. “I best get back to work,” I said with a smile. “Busy, you know? I might actually have to hire someone if it keeps up.”

  “You do that,” Rita said. I started to walk away, but she stopped me. “By the way,” she said, “do you think you’ll be coming to another meeting soon? You missed the last.”

  I almost told her “no,” just so I could get back to work, but I stopped myself.

  “You know,” I said thoughtfully, “I think I might.” I looked around Death by Coffee, at all of the patrons who were now crowding the place. They’d been drawn here by what I’d done, even if I shouldn’t have risked my life in such a way. They appreciated it and were showing me how much by coming here.

  Either that, or they were waiting for the next disaster. I really didn’t care which, as long as they were coming.

  And what about those who didn’t live in Pine Hills? Wouldn’t they be interested in hearing about how I solved a crime in my very first week in town? It wasn’t every day a simple working girl solved a murder mystery on her own.

  I gave Rita a big smile, eyes twinkling. “Turns out, I might actually have a story in me, after all.”

  Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of

  Alex Erickson’s next Krissy Hancock Mystery

  DEATH BY TEA,

  coming in December 2015!

  1

  A steady beeping tried to drown out the gunfire and pounding of my own heart. Officer Paul Dalton lay atop me—fully dressed, unfortunately—as he shielded me from some unknown assailant who seemed to have an endless supply of ammo. I knew I should have been scared; but with him that close to me, I couldn’t think about anything but his firm muscles flexing as he held me, and those wonderful dimples of his that were even now creasing his cheeks. Even in the heart of danger, he could still find time to smile at me.

  The beeping continued, louder, more insistent than before.

  “Do you think it’s a bomb?” I asked as I dreamily stroked Paul’s bicep.

  “No, Krissy, my love.” His smile was enough to make my head swim. “I think it’s an alarm.”

  “An alarm?”

  Panic flared through me as I surged from the dream and into the waking world, arms and legs flailing. My cat, Misfit, who had been sleeping next to me, was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor as I sat up, eyes darting to the clock, which read an alarming 8:31.

  “Crapcicle!”

  I practically fell out of the bed as I scrambled to my feet. There was no time for a shower, so I went straight for my closet, where I grabbed the first thing my hand fell upon. I was supposed to be at work at half past eight. Somehow I’d managed to oversleep my alarm by a good hour.

  “Stupid dream,” I grumbled as I ripped off my pj’s, tossed them onto the floor, and scrambled into my clothes. I hopped my way into the kitchen on one foot as I tried to walk and slip on my shoes at the same time. Misfit was sitting next to his food bowl, watching me with a kitty grin.

  “Enjoying this, are you?” I asked him. “Next time I’ll let you starve.” I filled his dish and he promptly buried his face in his bowl. The cat normally woke me up well before my alarm; yet this time I knew he’d intentionally let me sleep, more than likely because of something I’d done to him. He’s devious like that.

  I looked longingly at my coffeepot before darting back down the hall and into the bathroom. My hair was sticking up in every which direction in massive tangles that would take hours to fix. Either I’d spent the night twisting and turning my head on the pillow, or Misfit had been at my hair with his tongue and claws again, kneading away. I swear that cat has it in for me.

  I grabbed my brush from the drawer and yanked it through my hair a few times. When that didn’t work, I snatched up a hair tie and did my best to tame the mess on my head into a ponytail. It was uneven and lumpy, but it would have to do.

  Next came a quick once-over with my toothbrush—there was no way on God’s green earth that I was going to go out without at least making an attempt at brushing my teeth—and then it was back to the kitchen, where I grabbed my purse and keys and headed out the door. The curtains next door swished open as my neighbor Eleanor Winthrow leaned forward at her window seat to watch me. It was becoming a regular routine. The woman probably knew my schedule better than I did. She really needed a hobby other than spying on me.

  I paid her little mind as I got into my black Focus, started the car, and backed wildly out of my driveway in a spray of dusty pavement. And then it was a mad rush to work, praying I didn’t come across one of the local cops along the way.

  At least I wasn’t scheduled to open Death by Coffee today. My best friend, Vicki Patterson, and one of our new hires, Lena Allison, were scheduled for that, so the doors should already be open, but that didn’t make me feel any better. I didn’t like to be late, especially on a day like today when we were finally going to have Wi-Fi connectivity for our customers. It was a big day for us and I was going to show up for it smelling like I hadn’t showered—which I hadn’t.

  I found a parking space just down the road from our shop. I made one last futile attempt to tame my hair and then headed down the sidewalk. I could see Lena hanging something on the front of the store. When she glanced up, I gave her an apologetic wave.

  “Sorry,” I said, hurrying over. “My alarm didn’t go off.” A little white lie never hurt anyone.

  “It’s cool.” Lena gave me a crooked smile. A fresh scrape on her chin told me she’d crashed her skateboard again. The poor girl was practically a living scab. She’d recently cut her hair short and dyed it from dark brown to something a little more wild. I had to admit, the purple really did bring out her eyes. “Everything’s taken care of.” She motioned to the FREE WI-FI sign now hanging in the window.

  “Good.” I breathed deep, cringed at my pungent odor, and then hurried past Lena into Death by Coffee.

  The combination bookstore and coffee shop was doing much better after a slow start. There’d been a murder and I’d somehow managed to solve it. Apparently, the people of Pine Hills enjoyed a little excitement every now and again, and I was viewed as something of a minor celebrity. It was the reason we were finally able to hire a couple of new employees rather than close up like I thought we would have to do. The money coming in wasn’t as good as I thought it wou
ld be, but at least it was enough so the workday wasn’t left totally up to Vicki and me.

  I barely paid the nearly packed store any mind as I hurried behind the counter and into the office. My apron was hanging from a hook just inside the door. I grabbed it, threw it on around my neck, and then grabbed a spare bottle of cleaner. I sprayed the front of my apron a few times and sniffed. Satisfied it made me smell a little less ripe, I headed out to face the world.

  Vicki was busy ringing up a book order upstairs. She gave me a quick wave before turning back to the customer, dazzling him with her million-dollar smile. She really should have been an actress—something her parents had pressed on her since she was little—but she’d chosen the life of a store owner, instead. She was wearing shorts today, showing off those legs of hers. I sighed and turned away, feeling even worse about myself than I had before, and found myself looking right into my dad’s smiling face.

  Something akin to “Gah!” garbled its way out of my mouth. My hand went reflexively to my hair to smooth it down as I staggered back a couple of steps. I was about to start babbling explanations for my appearance and late arrival when I noticed Dad’s body was shiny and decidedly flat.

  “Oh, I knew you’d approve!” Rita Jablonski, the resident gossip, said. She stepped around what was apparently a life-sized cardboard cutout of my dad.

  “Approve of what?” My heart slowed down from its rapid pounding as I leaned on the counter. I loved my dad, I really did, but I didn’t want him showing up in Pine Hills unannounced, especially with Rita lurking about. He is a retired writer and Rita considers herself his number one fan. I didn’t want her to go all Misery on him.

  Rita patted the fake James Hancock on the shoulder. “Of having him as your store mascot!” She just about swooned. “I hate not having him in my bedroom looking out for me at night, but I think he belongs here, don’t you?”