My phone rang, causing me to jump. I gave Paul and Robert an apologetic smile, and pulled it from my purse to reject the call, but paused when I saw it was from Death by Coffee.
“One sec,” I said, bringing the phone to my ear. Robert looked disgusted, Paul mildly annoyed, at the interruption.
“Krissy!” Vicki’s voice was frantic. “Can you come in? I know it’s short notice and I only need you for a couple of hours, but I’m not sure I can handle this on my own.” Then muffled, “Welcome to Death by Coffee. It’ll be just one moment.” Then she was back. “If you can’t make it, I’ll manage on my own, but I’m on my last leg here.”
“No, I’ll be right in,” I said, standing. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you! I’m so sorry about this, but didn’t know what else to do. Gotta go!” She clicked off.
“I’m sorry,” I said, gathering my purse and heading for the door. “Something came up at work and I’ve got to go in.”
Robert grunted and refused to look at me as Paul opened the door.
“Is everything all right?” Paul asked, following me out.
“I don’t know. Vicki sounded busy and said she was by herself. I’m guessing someone called in sick and she tried to do it all alone and got overwhelmed.” At least I was hoping that was the case.
“Okay,” Paul said. “Let me know if there’s more to it than that and if I can do anything.”
“Will do.” I hurried away, hoping Paul would get Buchannan to follow up on the tiny little lead I’d pried from Robert.
It wasn’t until I was in my car and halfway to Death by Coffee that I realized I hadn’t actually said Dean’s—or anyone else’s name that mattered—out loud. I only hoped that when I’d left, Buchannan or Paul had continued questioning Robert and would come to the same conclusion that I had and would try to figure out who in the cast and crew had been bullied to the point of snapping before that same person snapped again.
23
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Vicki said, hurriedly filling an order as I threw on an apron and took over the register. There were only a handful people in Death by Coffee thanks to the snowy weather, but even a handful could be a lot when you are alone. A couple waited at the counter upstairs, books in hand, waiting for one of us to get a chance to go up to ring them up. Two more were browsing the books while another three people were waiting in line for coffee.
“It’s no biggie,” I said. “I’m glad you called.” I turned to the next person in line. “Welcome to Death by Coffee, what can I get you today?”
Most of the tables were dirty, which wasn’t much of a surprise. While most customers typically carried their trash to the trash cans, there were always a few who didn’t bother. And then you had the inevitable spills and the crumbs left by the cookies. It didn’t take long before the place looked a disaster.
Vicki handed over a pair of eggnog cappuccinos and then rushed upstairs to ring up the book orders, leaving me to handle the downstairs duties.
We worked like that for another twenty minutes. Every chance I got, I snuck out to wipe down a table. By the time everyone was served, including a party of five that came through the door just when I thought I was done, I was sweating, but feeling good about myself.
“Where is everyone?” I asked as I filled two coffee pots—one decaf, the other regular. Everyone was served and happy, allowing Vicki and me a breather. “Where’s Lena and Jeff?”
“Jeff’s coming,” Vicki said, brushing a stray hair out of her face. For the first time since I’d known her, she looked out of sorts. It was actually pretty refreshing to see her like that since I was usually the one who looked a mess. “He had a dentist appointment or he’d be here already.”
“And Lena?”
“Broke her arm.”
I gasped. “Oh no! What happened?”
Vicki leaned back against the counter as I moved from the coffeemakers to the cookie display, which was depressingly empty. “Apparently, she decided to do some snowboarding before coming in this morning. The hills are good for it, I guess, but I’m not sure it’s the right kind of snow. She took a spill and must have landed wrong.”
“Ouch.”
“Ouch is right,” Vicki said. “She called while driving herself to the emergency room. She said she’d come into work as soon as they set it, if you can believe that.”
“You’re not going to let her work, are you?” Lena was a tough, scrappy young lady, but a broken arm would slow anyone down.
“Of course not,” Vicki said, groaning as she moved upright. “We’d better clean up.”
Vicki went into the dining area to wipe down the tables I hadn’t gotten to, while I went about refilling the cookie display. It felt good to be back at work, even if it wasn’t a planned workday. I was surprised by how much I missed it. Sure, I was busy dealing with Robert’s current predicament, and the play took up quite a lot of my time, but spending some time at Death by Coffee felt like a welcome break. Strange? Probably, but it’s true.
I whipped up a few batches of cookies, set them to baking, and then did a few dishes while I waited for the timer to go off. Vicki had done the best she could, but alone, there was only so much she could do. She should have called me the moment she’d found out Lena wasn’t coming in and Jeff wouldn’t be able to fill in right away. Instead, she’d tried to handle it herself, and ended up having to call me. I knew she didn’t want to interrupt my vacation, but this was our business we were talking about. I would have come in for any reason.
The cookies finished just as I cleaned the last pan. I pulled them out, stuck a toothpick in one to make sure it was done, and then carried them out to the front where I deposited them into the display. I checked to make sure nothing else needed to be refilled, and then joined Vicki, who was back behind the counter.
“You can go if you want,” she said, fixing her apron, which had become askew. “I can handle things until Jeff gets here.”
“Not on your life,” I told her. “You should have called earlier.”
She blushed. “I thought I could handle it. I guess an entire store on my own is a little much, especially since I got hit with a rush just before I called you.”
“Well, next time you’ll know.”
She smiled. “I suppose so. I just didn’t want to bother you.” She fiddled with a damp rag before tossing it beneath the counter. “How is the play going?”
“Okay, I suppose.” I shrugged, uncomfortable at the switch in topics. “I still don’t know half the words to the songs and I can’t dance to save my life, but I think I’ll make it through it.”
“How’s everyone taken the . . . You know?”
“It’s been tough,” I said in the understatement of the year. “The director, Lawrence, doesn’t want anyone to talk about it. A few of the cast are obliging him, but there are others who aren’t so willing to let it go.” Me included.
“I can’t imagine continuing after someone died.” Vicki shuddered. “It’s hard enough to keep your focus sometimes. To think that someone you work with could be a murderer . . .” She shook her head and grimaced.
“Do you think Robert could have done it?” I asked.
Vicki made a face. “He’s a moron, but I don’t think he’s that big of a moron.”
“I agree. I don’t think he did it, but Officer Buchannan says he’s going to be charged later today. I’m not sure I’ll be able to convince him of Robert’s innocence. I mean, even I’m not totally convinced.”
“Had any luck with finding out who else could have killed the guy?” Vicki asked, knowing there was no way I wouldn’t be looking into it.
“Some, I guess.” I considered stopping there. Vicki didn’t need to be dragged into it. But since she did know some of the people at the theatre, and might have to work with them someday if ever she got back into it regularly, she deserved to know. She also might already have some input on some of my suspects. “Do you know a man named Dean? He’s on
e of the crew.”
She frowned and tapped her chin with a manicured nail that had survived the rush unbroken. “I think I remember someone by that name. Younger guy? Kind of angry?”
“He’s been pretty nice to me so far,” I said. “From what Robert told me, Chuck was making Dean’s life miserable. I was wondering if you knew him and thought him capable of murder.”
“I wish I could tell you,” Vicki said. “I haven’t spent as much time with the local theatre as I’d like. If Dean is the guy I’m thinking of, he hasn’t been there very long. I didn’t think he cared all that much about the play I was in, to be honest.” She shrugged. “Then again, I could be thinking about someone else entirely.”
“That’s fine, thanks.” I wondered if Dean was the man she remembered or not. The guy I knew didn’t seem to be angry, but who knows? Maybe he’d gotten good at hiding it recently, at least until he snapped and killed Chuck.
The door opened and Jeff walked in, eyes lowered, as if he felt guilty about not being able to come in right away. He was already shy and withdrawn. He didn’t need yet another reason to avoid eye contact.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. It came out muffled as he pulled cotton from his mouth. He gave me an embarrassed smile before heading for the counter.
“Don’t worry about it,” Vicki said. “You’re here now.” She turned to me. “And you are leaving.”
“What? I can stay longer. Practice is still a few hours away. I can keep working until then.”
“No, you can’t.” She untied my apron for me. “I have help now. You are no longer required.”
“But . . .”
“No buts!” Vicki was grinning as she said it. “I expect you to be back and working after Christmas. Not until then.”
I grumbled as I removed my apron and balled it up.
“Besides,” Vicki said. “You could use a shower before you head to practice.”
“Hey!” I sniffed. “I don’t smell bad.”
“No, but you look like you’ve spent a couple of hours working your butt off.”
“You do look pretty icky, Ms. Hancock,” Jeff said with a bashful smile.
“Thanks a lot,” I grumped. But they were right. It got hot in the kitchen. I might have only spent a short time working today, but it was enough that my forehead was damp, my hair limp. I didn’t even want to think about what my makeup looked like. “I guess I’ll go home then.”
“Good!” Vicki beamed. “Now shoo.”
I took my apron to the back and hung it up. I gathered my purse and then made my way out front just as the door opened and a chagrined Lena came in. Her arm was in a sling, forearm in a cast.
“I’m so sorry,” she said to Vicki before noticing me. “Oh no! I didn’t want you to have to come in. Let me clock in.” She tried to move past me to the back, but I barred her way.
“You’re not working today,” I said.
“I can do register! I only need one arm for that.” She winced when she tried to motion toward the counter.
“Sorry,” Vicki said. “Your shift is covered.”
“Get some rest,” I put in. “You look like you’re hurting.”
Lena nodded, resting her good hand on the cast on her bad arm. “They gave me something at the emergency room, but I think it’s starting to wear off.” She grit her teeth together. “Okay, scratch that; it’s definitely wearing off.” She groaned and backed up until she could sag down into a chair.
“Need me to get you anything?” I asked. “Maybe a coffee or a cookie to go?”
“A cookie would be great,” she said, hopefully.
“A cookie it is.”
Vicki had it out and waiting before I reached the counter. She handed it over with a mouthed, “Thank you.”
I carried the cookie over to where Lena sat and handed it to her. She took a bite and grimaced.
“Too hot?” I asked, surprised.
“No.” She swallowed and forced a smile. “Even chewing hurts.”
“Tell me about it,” Jeff muttered, rubbing at his cheek.
“Well, you go home and get some rest,” I said. “If you feel better tomorrow, I’m sure Vicki will let you come in to work register for a few hours.”
“If you don’t feel up to it, call me,” Vicki said. “I’ll get someone else to come in.” She glanced at Jeff, who nodded. “It’s no big deal.”
Lena smiled, though I could tell it pained her to do so, and I didn’t mean just physically. “I guess you’re right. I think I need a nap.” She stood with a wince. “Thanks for the cookie.” A look of devious defiance came into her eye as she glanced at Vicki. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I followed Lena outside as a small group of customers came in. She waved to me, wincing as she did, and got into her car, which was thankfully parked close by. She drove off slowly. Every bump probably hurt like crazy, but I thought she’d manage. As I said, she’s a tough girl.
I got into my own car a moment later and made for home. As much as I would have liked to stay and help out, taking a shower and getting my thoughts in order seemed like a good idea. If I was going to confront Dean about how Chuck treated him, I’d want to be at my best, not exhausted from a long day at work.
My mind was stuck on how I could possibly broach the subject of Chuck’s behavior toward Dean as I pulled into my driveway, so I didn’t see the two people standing on my stoop, talking to one another, until I was out of my car and almost on top of them. Both Jules and Jane were smiling at me, amused.
“What are you two doing here?” I asked, startled.
“I came to give you these,” Jules said, holding out a wrapped box I instantly recognized.
“Cookies!” I exclaimed, snatching them. I loved the cookies we baked at Death by Coffee, but Jules had a way with baking. His cookies were probably the best thing I’d ever put in my mouth.
It was all I could do to keep from digging in right then and there, but I managed. “Thank you,” I told him. “Do you want to come in for a minute? I’d be willing to share.”
“I can’t,” he said. “Maestro is waiting for me back home. He’ll want some cuddles before I go. Lance and I are going to see a movie tonight and he hates it when we leave him alone.”
“What about you?” I asked, turning to Jane, who’d stepped aside to let us talk.
“I’m only here for a minute,” she said with a smile.
“I’ll let you two alone,” Jules said. “It was nice meeting you.” He clasped Jane’s arm before giving me a wave and then crossing the yard, back to his house. I could hear Maestro yapping, as if he knew Daddy was on the way back home.
“Is everything all right with Eleanor?” I asked, worried. The curtain hadn’t moved since we’d been standing there, which was unlike the older woman.
“She’s fine,” Jane said. “In fact, she’s better than ever. Having you over did her some good.”
“I’m glad,” I said. “I never wanted things to be bad between us. It just sort of happened.”
“I understand. Here.” She held out a slip of paper. “It’s my number. I’m leaving in a few days and since you’re so busy, I wasn’t sure I’d get a chance to give it to you before I had to go.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the number, though I was perplexed as to why she was giving it to me. We’d hit it off well enough, but I didn’t think we’d be trading Christmas cards or calling one another for birthdays.
“Mother wanted me to tell you she’s going to try not to give you such a hard time.” Jane glanced toward Eleanor’s house, a wistful smile on her face. “We moved her chair so she wouldn’t be tempted to stare out the window all day.”
“She’s no bother,” I said, though internally, I was relieved. It was hard living next to someone who was constantly spying on you, watching your every move, including when you were in your bedroom and had forgotten to close the blinds.
“I know how big of a pain she can be,” Jane said. “And I appreciate you not coming down hard on her.
I’d like to think that everything will be good between the two of you from now on. Mother needs a neighbor she can count on.” There was more to it than she was saying, but I think I got the gist. Eleanor was old, lonely, and needed a friend.
“I’ll do my best,” I said.
“If ever you need anything, please call. And if . . .” She bit her lower lip and shook her head.
“If I think she needs you, I’ll let you know,” I said in understanding. They might not have had the closest of relationships, but I could tell Jane truly did care about her mother.
“Thank you.” Jane held out a hand. “It was great meeting you, Krissy Hancock.”
“You too, Jane Winthrow.” We shook.
With a grateful nod, Jane returned back to Eleanor’s house, head down, hands shoved deep into her pockets. I waited until she went inside before unlocking my own door and heading in for my shower.
And a cookie or two, of course.
24
Showered, and feeling surprisingly good, I headed for practice. My brief time at work had made me realize I was focusing on the wrong thing. While Chuck’s murder was important, it wasn’t my responsibility. Christmas was coming and I should be looking forward to that, not worrying myself to death over Robert’s predicament.
Now, that didn’t mean I was abandoning him to the mercy of the legal system. I still planned on having a chat with Dean about his possible beef with Chuck in the hopes he might shed some light on who actually killed Santa. I’d see what he had to say, then pass on the information to Buchannan or Garrison. There was no need for me to dwell on it any more than that. After practice, I fully intended to come home, sit down with a mug of hot chocolate, and watch Christmas movies until I fell asleep with Misfit curled up in my lap.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice snickered. Okay, maybe I might not be able to drop it that easily, but darn it, I was going to try. If I kept going the way I was, I was going to end up with high blood pressure, if I didn’t have it already. It had been a few months since I’d last visited my doctor.
Death by Eggnog Page 20