Marvels, Mochas, and Murder

by Christine Zane Thomas

  “Is that one word or three?” I joked.

  I’d managed to come by and get the phone the day prior—worked my usual Saturday shift, all hours with only Jason, the part-timer, filling in during lunch. Memaw called later that evening, inviting me to Sunday lunch, saying she’d heard something that couldn’t be true.

  And she was right—because it wasn’t true at all. The town gossip had painted a picture of me as some sort of hero tracking down the killer on my own, then facing off with him. Hardly a word of it was even close to the truth.

  “I still can’t believe your old buddy Marc. He’s been to this house, hasn’t he?”

  I nodded. “A long time ago, yes.”

  “But why? He was always such a nice boy.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I said. “He instigated the fight between Corey and Ryan. I always kind of wondered why Ryan was okay still being his friend after that. Marc always played the side that would suit him best.”

  “Well, probably because Ryan was a nice boy.”

  “You’re right about that. See, none of us knew Marc was dating Jill. Not even Corey. I guess he wanted to keep it a secret, and since none of us talked to Jill anymore, it didn’t matter. Not until they broke up, and she started seeing Ryan.”

  “Jealousy,” Memaw said, matter-of-factly.

  “Right. He must’ve seen Ryan coming out of her house and just snapped. Then he thought he had the perfect plan.”

  “To frame you.”

  I nodded. “It almost worked. Well, maybe not almost. But it sure didn’t feel good to be on that side of the law. He was probably sweating bullets when they let me go. Jill would eventually point the police his way—it was only a matter of time. So he had to kill her, too.”

  “What a shame.” Memaw shook her head.

  “It really is,” I agreed. “Three lives, if you count Marc’s, ended over something so petty.”

  “Almost four.” She took my hand lovingly into both of hers on the dining room table. The empty dining room table.

  “So, uh, what was this lunch you promised?”

  “Oh, that?” She gave me a guilt-ridden smile. “I probably have some leftovers in the fridge.”

  I couldn’t say the prospect of digging through used cottage cheese and margarine containers to find lunch was an appetizing one—Memaw had never seen the value in real Tupperware.

  “Mo’s Hideaway it is,” I said. “My treat.”

  “I never can eat a whole slice there,” she said grudgingly, but not so grudging as to prevent her from standing and gathering her purse.

  I followed her out, thinking it did seem like a ham and pineapple sort of day.

  A few hours later, I was back with Gambit at the shop, my belly still full with one and a half slices of pizza. We were doing some inventory of the comics section. Or at least that’s what I told myself I was doing. I’d gotten sidetracked and perused at least three issues. It seemed comics had come a long way since I was a kid. The stories more complex. The characters actually had flaws. They didn’t always save the day—just most of the time.

  There was a knock knock on the shop door. Gambit ran over, tail wagging.

  Felicia stood there with the Captain America bust in her hands.

  “We’re closed today,” I said jokingly.

  She stepped inside, saw what I was up to, and laughed.

  “They’re better than I remember.”

  “I’m sure they are,” she said. Felicia held the bust out toward me. “This belongs to you. It’s not needed as evidence.”

  I took it in one hand. It felt heavier than I remembered. “I think I’m going to give it to Corey. He’ll appreciate it more than I will.”

  “It saved your life,” she interjected dramatically.

  “Right. But I don’t really want that reminder.

  She gave me a slight nod of understanding. “You know, I think last night was the first night I’ve truly slept in weeks. What about you?”

  “Same,” I said. “You do look a lot more refreshed.”

  “Thanks. That’s really what a girl wants to hear. Oh, you look a lot less ragged and tired today than you have the past two weeks.” Her voice was mocking.

  “That’s not exactly what I said.” I laughed.

  “Same difference.” She laughed with me. “Hey, I really didn’t mean to ruin your date the other night…”

  Felicia looked at me with a guilty smile. She should be guilty, I thought. But only briefly. I was sour, but it wasn’t all her fault Avett left as she did. While I hadn’t heard from her since, Avett had at least added me as a friend on Facebook the next day.

  “Sorry,” Felicia said. “I saw the lights on. I thought you might be working or something. I really didn’t think—”

  “You didn’t think I’d bring a date here? This place is actually a bit cleaner than upstairs. Plus, I’m not sure I’m ready to invite anyone upstairs just yet. You may have gotten me out of an awkward situation.”

  “Really? Still?” Felicia acted as if I was an odd duck. “Wasn’t your breakup over a year ago?”

  “It was,” I nodded. “God, this is why I hate small towns. At least I had the luxury of explaining the whole situation to Avett. Your knowledge is what? Second or thirdhand at best?”

  Felicia made a face. “Actually, it’s more like fourth or fifth. My mom told me, and who knows where she heard it.”

  “I can carve out some time to explain. I mean, if you’re interested.” I wanted Felicia to be interested. “In fact,” I said. “I’d love to hear more about you—you know like almost anything other than your life as a detective. I think we’ve covered that one, tenfold.”

  “You mean you want to catch up like real friends?”

  “Exactly.” I nodded.

  “I’d like that. Actually, Kirby, I’d like that a lot.”

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  Find out what’s next for Kirby, Gambit, and crew in Lattes and Lies, Comics and Coffee Case Files Book 2.

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  Also By Christine Zane Thomas

  Foodie File Mysteries starring Allie Treadwell

  The Salty Taste of Murder

  A Choice Cocktail of Death

  A Juicy Morsel of Jealousy

  The Bitter Bite of Betrayal

  Comics and Coffee Case Files starring Kirby Jackson and Gambit

  Book 1: Marvels, Mochas, and Murder

  Book 2: Lattes and Lies

  Book 3: Cold Brew Catastrophe

  About Christine Zane Thomas

  Christine Zane Thomas is the pen name of a husband and wife team. A shared love of mystery and sleuths spurred the creation of their own mysterious writer alter-ego.

  While not writing, they can be found in northwest Florida with their two children and schnauzer, Tinker Bell. When not at home, their love of food takes them all around the South. Sometimes they sprinkle in a trip to Disney World. Food and Wine is their favorite season.

  About William Tyler Davis

  After leaving the Shire, William "Tyler" Davis was an exchange student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Sorted into Ravenclaw house, he spent many years there before taking time off to companion the Doctor around space and time. He found his wife Jenn while searching wardrobes for Narnia. They settled down in Florida (of all places) to begin adventures with two halflings that like to call them Mommy and Daddy.

  After ten years of half-finished stories, he finally finished something. He stored that one away.

  Then he wrote the Epik Fantasy series, a humorous fantasy about a halfling who wants to be a wizard.

  A lover of The Hardy Boys and The Cat Who, Comics and Coffee Case Files is his first cozy mystery series.

  Acknowledgments

  There are so many people I’d like to thank for their help.

  Jenn, my love, my alpha reader, always helps keeps track of the little things.

  Ellen, my editor
, thanks for keeping track of the big things.

  My mom, my proofreader, finds the typos when everyone else’s eyes glance of (or should that be off) them.

  And finally, thanks to Jason, my first reader, for trying out a new genre.