It was a sailboat, probably just a few feet over twenty. But nice enough to live on.
“Oh, I bet that was Corey’s. He made it big in Silicon Valley. Then he moved back here. I think he said he sold it, though.”
Avett nodded. “Ah, that explains it.”
In a perfect moment, she titled her head up toward mine. Her eyes locked, not on my eyes but on my lips instead. Her lips weren’t in a smile but parted in a familiar enough way. I knew what I had to do.
I went in ninety percent of the way. She closed in the other ten.
First kisses are hardly ever the stuff of storybooks or what you see in movies but somehow this one was. It wasn’t a make out fest, it lasted no more than two whole seconds. Her lips were as soft as I’d been imaging throughout the whole day—ever since that smile at the shop. And when it was over, she pecked my lips one more time before smiling. She led us both down the boardwalk toward the car, her hand still tangled with mine.
Now there’s an advantage to owning a shop above where you live—an advantage I hadn’t employed until the moment. What the shop did was provide a totally nonthreatening place to be alone with someone without actually being in their home, or in my case the apartment upstairs.
I parked beside Avett’s little coupe. We both got out. It looked like we might share one more kiss, underneath the Kapow Koffee sign. But I just wasn’t ready to say goodnight just yet, and my hope was that she shared that thought as well.
“Do you want to come in the shop? I’m sure Gambit will be happy to see you…”
Avett pursed her lips.
God, those lips.
“You said you have white tea,” she said. “What about chamomile?”
“We definitely have chamomile.” I smiled and unlocked the door.
Gambit greeted us, his tail hammering on my shin, as I turned the lights on a dim but bright enough to see setting. It looked like the way it did in the early morning hour—6:30 to 7:30AM when only one customer at a time stops by.
I made us both tea. I decided I didn’t want to be up too late, thinking maybe I’d hit CrossFit again the next morning to try and pry information from Felicia. We settled into the same side of a booth. That was actually her choice—I’d sat down first.
I was happy with her choice, and even happier as she scooted in closer to me. I did my best middle school yawn and put my arm around her waist. This was going well. My first date in over a year and it felt like old hat. It felt good.
“So tell me more about you,” she said. “Was this shop always your dream? Seriously, I think the comic book thing is growing on me. I really like the vibe in here. It feels like a place you can come and just sit for a while. But I guess maybe it’s because we’re alone. Does it fill up with geeky kids in the afternoon?”
“No, not really. I think we drastically overestimated the number of geeky kids that live in Niilhaasi. In fact, it’s mostly geeky adults. And they come in just long enough to get their comics and run out the door.”
She chuckled.
“Honestly, the comic shop wasn’t my idea. My buddy Ryan helped me get this place started. I grew an affinity for coffee when I was in the Air Force. You haven’t had bad coffee until you’ve had Air Force bad coffee. I sort of took it upon myself to right my squadron’s wrongs. Then in college I studied at the local Starbucks. I got used to the smell and addicted to the taste.”
“Oh, what did you study?”
“Business,” I said.
“My ex,” she said hesitantly, “that’s what he claimed to study. We met in college. It looked more like he studied video games. His bad grades were just the first of many problems. He could never hold down a job for more than six months.”
“That’s kind of becoming the norm these days, isn’t it?” I asked rhetorically.
She nodded.
“Gosh.” She sighed. “What are we supposed to talk about if we can’t talk about the past? I’m so sorry I keep bringing up my ex. Every time I do my stomach starts twisting on itself. I keep thinking I’m going to blow it with you.”
“Really?” I smiled. “I keep thinking the same thing.”
She looked at me, worried.
“No,” I said squeezing her closer, “not that you’re going to blow it. I mean I keep thinking that I’m going to blow it.”
She laughed. “I knew what you meant. I was just playing.”
She gave me that look again, the one from the docks—the one that told me it was okay to kiss her.
Again, I went ninety percent of the way. But this time Avett didn’t go ten. There was no kiss—because the bell on the door jingled. And Felicia walked into the shop.
20
“I am so sorry,” Felicia said guiltily.
Avett scooted away from me as if I had the plague, or perhaps more accurately, as if we were teenagers caught making out by her father.
“No, it’s okay. I was just getting ready to leave.”
“Were you?” Felicia asked.
The same thought occurred to me as well.
Avett scooted out of the booth, almost knocking over her tea. She gathered her purse. “Maybe not,” she admitted. Then she gave me a questioning look as I slid out from the booth after her—there’s nothing worse than being the only one sitting when everyone else is standing.
“Oh, right… Avett, this is my friend, Felicia. She’s a detective with the local police.”
“Right.” Felicia put her hand out for Avett to shake. “I kind of promised to swing by here with some information, but the day got away from me. I saw the light on when I was passing by and figured Kirby must be inside working. I never thought…”
“You never thought I’d be on a date,” I joked.
“Stop. You know what I mean.”
Gambit found his way between Felicia’s ankles. The dog liked her more than me. She stooped down to scratch behind his ears.
“Well, it was nice meeting you,” Avett told her. “And Kirby, I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Definitely,” I said through my inner protest at her leaving without another kiss. I couldn’t tell if I was seeing things or what, but it looked as if there was some jealousy in Avett’s eyes.
Who was I kidding? Avett probably didn’t care. Felicia either. She had her own things going. This was just one date. And just one kiss, my inner monologue said harshly.
“She seems nice,” Felicia said kindly. “In fact, she’s familiar. Does she work at the hospital?”
“Yeah. With Dr. Adams, Jill’s ex.”
“That’s where I know her from.”
Felicia stood and made her way over toward the bar. She eyed the espresso machine longingly.
“You want a mocha?” I asked.
“Half-caff? I actually need to go back in soon.”
“Coming right up.” I slipped around the counter. “So, what news do you have for me?”
“We caught him,” she said matter-of-factly.
I stopped with my finger over the grinder button. The espresso beans were still very much bean.
“I’ll tell you all about it after coffee is made.” She waved me on. “But it’s the reason I never made it back until now. It’s been a busy day and night, and it probably won’t stop until we’ve got it all pieced together.”
I quickly turned on my autopilot latte making skills, completely forgetting she asked for half caffeine.
“Crap,” I said. “That’s fully loaded. I forgot to use the decaf beans for the other shot of espresso.”
Felicia just shrugged and took a sip. “I can probably use it anyway. No way I’m sleeping tonight.”
She went over and took a seat in the same booth that Avett and I had just shared. I came over and sat across from her.
“Explain,” I implored.
She smiled, shaking her head. “You’re cute when you’re anxious.” She took a long sip of coffee, making me ever more anxious.
“Your tip about the bridge was spot on. That’s pretty much how we cau
ght him. Remember Robin Snider?”
I nodded. In my head, Robin was still a suspect.
“Well, she and her husband Scott, they were each other’s alibi. Scott had been told that night about Robin’s affair with Ryan, but they both swore to have made up. Said they were with each other all that night.” She coughed. “In the intimate sort of way.”
“Wow,” I said.
“I know. You’d be surprised how many times I’ve heard that as someone’s defense.”
“How many?” I asked, actually intrigued.
“Just the one—I was kidding.”
I laughed. “Okay, so what does that have to do with anything?”
“They were lying. Scott’s car passed through the toll that night. And surveillance shows that he was the only one in the car. They weren’t at home like they’d said.”
“So Scott did it?”
Felicia nodded.
“And Jill?”
She nodded again.
“We think Robin was just trying to protect him. Say that he was home when he wasn’t.”
“But I don’t remember seeing him at the wake,” I told Felicia. “I remember seeing Robin there, but not him. I’d remember.”
“Were you drinking?”
“I had one beer. And I’d remember Scott. He gave me a pretty evil look the night before Ryan’s murder. I saw them both at the Fish Camp, remember? That’s probably where she told him about Ryan.”
“Probably.” Felicia nodded. “So, Kirby, what are you trying to say? Do you think maybe they’re covering for each other? Maybe he killed Ryan, and she killed Jill?”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to say.”
“Well, that would explain something,” Felicia said. I gave her my most questioning face, encouraging her to continue. “When we pressed Scott on how he killed Jill, he never really answered. He’d skip over the murder part and then just say he threw her in the water. You know we’ve intentionally not told anyone how she was killed for this very reason.”
“So, he says he killed her and threw her in the water. Do they even own a boat?”
Felicia rolled her eyes. “It’s Niilhaasi—everyone and their mother owns a boat.”
“Not me.”
She rolled her eyes again. “I’m tracking with you on this. I really am. Just because he confessed doesn’t mean he did it. He was even pretty vague about what happened with Ryan. We’re waiting to see if that half fingerprint matches up with his.”
“What if it doesn’t?”
“Well,” she shrugged, “he still confessed. Who knows. Maybe that’s your fingerprint. He was trying to frame you after all.”
“Did he say that?”
“Not exactly in those words.”
I nodded, but something about this didn’t sit right with me.
“You should really look into Robin,” I said. “If it was Scott who killed Ryan, fine, but why would he kill Jill if that was the person he was seeing?”
“Wait! What?” Felicia jerked her cup down to the table. She looked at me as if I’d said something wrong.
“What?” I questioned. “What’d I say?”
“You don’t remember the words that literally just came out of your mouth? You said Scott was seeing Jill.”
“Right.” I nodded. “I was just doing some mental calculations. Ryan told me that not only was Robin having an affair but Scott was too. So they were both going to work it out. Then I told you what Corey said. Jill was just dating someone, someone she wouldn’t tell Corey about. Two plus two equals four, right?”
Felicia nodded. “Usually. I didn’t know about Scott’s affair. That does shed some new light onto the case.”
“They never said anything about it?”
She chuckled halfheartedly. “Maybe you don’t know how these interrogation things usually go. But it’s not what you see on TV—on Castle,” she corrected. “There’s always a lawyer present. They answer some questions directly but aren’t an open book like you were the day you came into the station.”
“So what do you think?” I asked.
“I think it’s something I have to think about,” she confessed. “I’ll know more when that fingerprint is analyzed. As it stands, there’s nothing that points to Robin killing Jill. As far as I can tell, they’d never met.”
I nodded. “I understand.”
Felicia stood up. Smoothing out her button-down shirt, she took another swig of coffee. “So, Kirby, your investigation is done now, right? I’m going to handle the rest. Thank you for all the insights. But it’s time to play regular citizen until the trial.”
“That’s me,” I said. “Plain ol’ citizen.”
“Oh, and she was cute,” Felicia said, leaving. “Real cute.”
Was it me or was there a twinge of jealousy in those words? It has to be me, I thought sensibly. There was no way two women would get in a tiff over me.
21
Fridays were typically the busiest day at the shop. I couldn’t say exactly what brought the people out in droves. Maybe it was just they were cooped up inside all week long and ready to stretch their legs, although stretching them in the cramped booths at the shop was next to impossible. Karen would try to anyway. But her arrival was at least an or so hour away.
The early morning hours were always mine to do as I pleased with only a random customer here or there. I prepared for the onslaught, making extra of the medium roast coffee, grinding espresso beans early, and making sure the small fridge in the front of the store was stocked with the milk from the industrial size fridge in the back.
I paid only a little mind to the jingle of the bell at the door. I’d already seen two golfers on their way to the links. I finished filling the canister with half and half, set it out, and turned to see the newcomer.
My heart stopped.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Robin Snider said. “You’re thinking Scott really killed them. And I’m here to defend him.”
She obviously didn’t know where my head was—because I was thinking, what is a killer doing in my shop? I was wondering if there was anything back here for me to defend myself with. The bagel knife was long gone, as were the bagels. I hadn’t ordered more since Ryan’s death.
If anything, I was going to use that giant Captain America bust Corey was after. But Robin put her hands up in mock surrender. There was nothing in them, no gun, no knife. Nothing.
“That is what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”
“Something like that,” I lied slowly. “If that’s not it, what are you doing here?”
She bit her lip nervously. “You probably don’t remember, but we met a little while back. Around the shop’s opening. That’s when I met Ryan.”
I vaguely recalled that day and nodded. But there was an influx of people that whole week—they had come mostly for the free cup of coffee offered to each new guest in exchange for an email address. I kept meaning to actually use those addresses to send out promotions or just to advertise in general.
“It started off innocently enough,” she continued. “He was really sweet. And my marriage was going to shit. Don’t get me wrong, Scott’s a good person. We’ve just faded. No kids to tie us down, we just lost our spark, ya know? It isn’t his fault. It isn’t mine. Well… see, I thought it was mine until he told me he’d been seeing someone else.”
Jill, I thought.
Gambit, not really a morning dog, lumbered out of bed. The familiar voice must’ve roused him. He hopped his two front legs onto Robin’s knee and stretched his long back, yawning.
“Hey boy. Long time no see.” She gave him an odd pat on the top of his head. I guessed she wasn’t really a dog person.
“So he was seeing someone,” I prodded.
“Right,” she said. “But he never said who.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, flustered. “What does this have to do with anything? You told him about Ryan, correct?”
She nodded. “Sort of. I said he worked at this coffee shop.�
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She looked at me guiltily as I realized that it was a fifty-fifty chance—it could’ve been me lying dead on that floor.
“Wait, is that why he gave me that look when I saw you two at the Fish Camp?”
“Probably.” She shrugged. “But what I’m trying to tell you is Scott didn’t kill Ryan. At least, I don’t think so.”
“His car was seen leaving the island,” I countered. “Why else would he be over there?”
“The girl he was seeing—is seeing. We lied to the police. We didn’t decide to reconcile that night. We decided to split up. Or rather, I decided we should split up. I told him to just to get out of our house. He told me he went there, and they did their deeds. And when he told her he was there to stay, well, she wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment.”
Robin chuckled. “He was tossed out of two houses that night.”
“Or so he claims,” I said.
“But why didn’t he tell the police that?”
“I think Scott thinks I did it. He thinks I caught Ryan with another woman. Then I killed them both. He’s being chivalrous, if you’ll believe it.”
It was hard to believe.
“It doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Why would he take the blame for you when you kicked him out?”
“You’d have to know Scott. He takes responsibility for ruining our marriage.”
“Ruining a marriage isn’t worth a lifetime in prison,” I said. “If Scott didn’t do these things, then who did? You know it almost sounds like it could’ve been you.”
I backed away, aware of where the Captain America bust was above my head, my only defense. I half expected her to raise a gun from her purse that very instant in some crazy attempt to kill anyone who suspected her of the crimes.
But she didn’t.
“I really don’t know who did it,” she answered. “That’s the God’s honest truth. I was hoping you could help somehow. It sounds foolish now that I’m here. I think maybe I should go up to the police station. Maybe you’re right. Maybe they’ll arrest me. Charge me for both murders. But that’s a chance I have to take. I’m sorry things turned out this way.”
Marvels, Mochas, and Murder Page 10