Murder Over Mochas

by Caroline Fardig

  She thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Well…maybe. But I don’t have any proof. You might talk to Paul Jackson, though. He told me they’d hung out lately, and that he thought Scott seemed a little off.”

  Paul Jackson was one of Scott’s oldest friends in Liberty. I nodded. “Paul’s already on our list to speak to today, but thanks for the heads-up.” I stood, ready to move on to our next interview. “I hate to rush off, but we’re pressed for time.”

  Pouting, Bethany stood as well. “Hey, you never told me why you were investigating Scott in the first place.”

  Pete put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m afraid that’s confidential PI information.”

  Bethany practically swooned. “Oh, how exciting!”

  I headed for the door, in serious danger of chuckling aloud. Bethany never met an attractive man she didn’t immediately start crushing on. Pete managed to slip around her before she could trap him in a hug, and hustled out the open door ahead of me.

  “Thanks, Bethany,” I said, blocking her from running after Pete by giving her a hug.

  “No problem. Remember, I love investigating. And I’m hella good at it. Next time you need help, call me.”

  “Will do,” I lied.

  Pete had already jogged across the parking lot and had his car running by the time I got in. He shook his head. “That girl needs a cold shower.”

  “Yeah, I kinda forgot to warn you about that.”

  Frowning, he said, “On purpose, I bet. You love to watch me get hit on by weirdos.”

  I pinched his cheek. “It wouldn’t happen if you weren’t so stinking adorable.”

  He sighed dramatically. “That is so true.”

  —

  Paul Jackson agreed to talk with us, but only if we met him at Sam’s Tavern, where he was setting up for his music gig later tonight. Although he was a little on the nerdy side, Paul was one of the most talented musicians in the area. I wouldn’t have minded to stay for his performance, but Pete insisted on going somewhere quiet for dinner so we could relax. Sam’s, while not the cleanest establishment in Liberty, had the best bar food around. They were just opening for the evening, and the smell wafting out of the kitchen was heavenly. It only served to remind me how hungry I was and how much I wanted our sleuthing to be over for the day.

  Paul was setting up his amps when we approached him. He looked way different than I remembered. His curly mop of hair was gone, and instead his head was shaved clean. He’d totally transformed his geeky persona into that of a rocker guy. The only thing left of the Paul I knew were his thick glasses. What was with these guys reinventing themselves?

  “Hey, Paul,” I said.

  “Hi, Juliet.” Paul’s nasally voice was at least the same.

  “This is Pete. He’s helping me look into Scott’s death.”

  They shook hands. Paul said, “I can’t believe he’s gone. I just saw him last week.”

  I replied, “I know. I’m sorry for the loss of your friend. Bethany told us you’d seen him recently. How was he? Did you notice anything unusual about the way he was acting?”

  “Well, he was pissed over losing his job, which isn’t unusual. I was that angry when I got canned a few months ago.”

  Pete asked, “Aside from losing his job, was there anything else he was worried or upset about? Anything with Mandi?”

  “He and his wife have been at each other’s throats for a while. Her cheating was driving him crazy. I told him to leave her. She was no good for him anyway. When I got back to town this summer, it was like he’d turned into this whole different guy. We’d kept in touch while I was living in LA, so I knew you guys had broken up, but I didn’t realize Scott had become such a sellout.”

  I nodded. “Right. He’d definitely adopted a different lifestyle. About that, did you ever get the feeling that he was using drugs?”

  Paul replied, “He was never high around me, but drug use would explain his behavior otherwise. He seemed to be getting almost…paranoid, for lack of a better word. The last couple of times I saw him, I got the feeling he thought he needed to be constantly looking over his shoulder. He was jittery and out of it.”

  “Did he mention anything about him or Mandi being in danger?”

  “No, never.” He furrowed his brow. “In fact, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea of someone wanting to kill him. I can’t see him getting messed up in something dangerous enough to make anyone want to hurt him. He was kind of a scaredy-cat.”

  If Paul (at least the pre-rocker Paul I knew) called you a scaredy-cat, that was pretty pathetic. However, his assessment wasn’t wrong. Scott was never much of a risk-taker. He never drove over the speed limit. He wouldn’t gamble or play the stock market. He didn’t even like to ride the carnival rides at the county fair, because he was skeptical of their safety after being carted across the country and repeatedly set up and broken down.

  Speaking of jittery, Pete was fidgeting like there was no tomorrow. “So that should be all we need, right, Jules?”

  I shrugged. “I think that should do it. Paul, it was good to see you, and thanks for the info.”

  Paul smiled. “It was good to see you, too, Juliet.”

  We stood to leave, and Pete said, “We’d love to stay and listen to your set, but we have to get back. If you’re ever in Nashville, look us up, okay?”

  “You got it,” Paul replied.

  As Pete ushered me out the door, I said, “You know, I’d enjoy some greasy pub food and music just as much or more than a fancy dinner. We don’t have to leave on my account.”

  “Jules, can you just let a guy do something nice for you?”

  Odd response, because I was sure he would rather have stayed at Sam’s as well. “Okay, but you’ve been doing something nice for me all day. You drove me here, sleuthed with me—”

  “Yes, and now the sleuthing is officially over for the day. No more talking about it or thinking about it.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. You, me, dinner. Now.”

  I hid a smile at Pete’s sudden assertiveness. “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter 9

  Pete took me to a lovely little Italian restaurant called Vecchio’s at the edge of town. It was a nice place, and in jeans and T-shirts we were hardly dressed well enough to be here. Nevertheless, we were led to a cozy circular booth for two. A little weird for dinner with your BFF.

  “Have you been here before?” Pete asked, perusing the menu.

  “Yeah, but it’s been a while. The last time I was here was with Sc—”

  He cut me off. “We’re not mentioning that name tonight, remember?”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Not even in the context of the question you asked me?”

  He put down his menu and turned to me. “No. Not at all. This is you and me having a nice, normal dinner like people do. We’re going to talk about the weather, music, movies, and normal stuff that people talk about at normal dinners.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Like a date?”

  Looking away quickly, he scoffed, “No, of course not like a date. Not really. I mean, we can be normal, can’t we?”

  “You’ve said ‘normal’ four times in the last ten seconds.”

  He picked his menu back up and muttered, “And you’re being difficult on purpose.”

  I put my menu in front of my face to cover a snicker. There was something going on with Pete. He wasn’t as laid-back and witty as usual. Then again, we were persons of interest in a murder investigation, and I wasn’t exactly exuding sweetness and light after the events of this weekend, not that I ever did anyway.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. I’d put it on silent earlier so we wouldn’t be interrupted during our interviews. I’d been getting regular updates from Ryder and Maya—mostly “sorry we’re not finding much of anything you don’t already know.” They’d tracked down the unknown phone number that showed up in Scott’s call list, but it belonged to a pre-paid cell, which was a dead end. Since they’d
struck out with the meager information they found through the background checks, they’d taken it upon themselves to call people we’d decided weren’t as close to Scott, like coworkers he hadn’t been text-warring with. They’d gotten the same story from everyone—Scott was becoming more and more out of control, and no one would have been surprised if his poisoning was self-inflicted. No new news.

  Another reason my phone had to be silenced was that Cooper kept calling and texting me, which I was trying to hide from Pete. He was insistent on seeing me when I got back home tonight, but I kept putting him off. This was yet another text from him, and I’d had it. I had decided to end things with him. Our relationship was supposed to be the most uncomplicated thing in my life, but it was fast becoming one of the most complicated.

  “Who’s that?” Pete asked as I began typing my response to Cooper’s text.

  “Um…another non-update from Maya,” I lied.

  He put his hand on my arm. “We said no case during dinner.”

  “I’m just telling her we’re at dinner and that we’re done for the day.” I finished up the text and crammed the phone back in my pocket. “There. No more interruptions.”

  Pete smiled. “Good. Because we have a ton of stuff to discuss about your upcoming performance on Tuesday. We have one more rehearsal tomorrow and then—”

  The waiter interrupted him, and after we placed our order, Pete picked right back up talking about set lists and staging for the performance. I loved the gleam in his eye when he talked music. As bad as my stage fright had been at one time, I had to say I was looking forward to this performance, if for no better reason than it was a chance to team up (musically) with Pete again. There was nothing more fun for me than collaborating with him. We clicked perfectly when we were playing music together, somehow knowing exactly what the other one was thinking, and always perfectly in sync.

  As we talked and laughed over our appetizer, I began to actually feel normal, for lack of a better word. Who’d have thought?

  “Hey, did you re-up the lease on your apartment?” Pete asked out of the blue.

  “Not exactly. The year was up a couple of weeks ago, and I convinced the super to give me a month-to-month option.”

  He brightened. “Excellent. We need to talk about you getting a new place.”

  This was such a bone of contention between the two of us. Sighing, I replied, “Yes, Dad. I know I live in a hole.”

  “So do something about it.”

  “Apartment shopping takes time. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of a busy girl.”

  “That’s why I wanted to ask you if you wanted to—”

  My phone buzzed again, this time a long buzz signaling I was receiving a call. “Hold that thought.” It was from a local number I vaguely recognized. “Hello?”

  “Juliet, this is Daniel Stevenson.”

  “Daniel, hey. Thanks for calling me back.”

  Pete grunted and sat back against the booth, radiating grumpiness.

  I mouthed “sorry” to Pete and continued my conversation with Daniel. “I’m so sorry about the loss of your friend.”

  Daniel sighed. “I’m absolutely sick about it. And I know you and I haven’t spoken for a while, but I’m sure this isn’t easy on you, either.”

  “No, I can’t say that it is.”

  “In the message you left, you said you wanted to speak with me about Scott. I’m happy to do anything to help. Are you still free to meet tonight?”

  Pete was going to kill me for this. I replied, “Yes, I’m free.” Yep. Got the glare from Pete I was expecting.

  Daniel said, “Is now a good time? I’ll come to you if that will help.”

  If we finished dinner, went and talked to Daniel, went and saw my parents, picked up Ryan, and then started home, it would take all night. It was getting late, so we had to start doing some multitasking here. I was already in the doghouse with Pete, so I bit the bullet and told Daniel where we were, cringing as Pete’s frown deepened.

  After I ended the call, Pete said quietly, “Did you just schedule another interview for right now? During our dinner?”

  I grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry. I just want to get this day over with and go home. I think Daniel will be the best person to tell us the real, full story about Scott. Then I promise I’m done.”

  He stared at our hands for a moment. “Jules, I…”

  When he didn’t continue, I asked, “What?”

  After giving my hand a squeeze, he pulled his hand away. “Never mind. I think our food’s here.”

  We ate for several minutes in a tense silence. Even though I knew Pete wasn’t looking forward to talking to yet another person, I was relieved when I saw Daniel walk through the front door of the restaurant.

  Tall, dark, and handsome, Daniel Stevenson was one fine-looking man. Always dressed in an expensive suit, this time minus the power tie, he’d been a drug rep for years. I wondered briefly if Daniel had been the reason Scott finally got into the business when he’d seemed to have no interest in it before.

  “Hi, Daniel. Thanks so much for meeting us,” I said as he approached our table.

  “It’s my pleasure, Juliet. You’re looking lovely as ever,” Daniel replied with a sad but charming smile as he scooted in next to me and gave me a one-armed hug, leaving his arm draped across my shoulders. Daniel’s relentless flirting left women swooning. Not always a big hit with the guys, though.

  Pete cleared his throat.

  I said, “Daniel, this is my friend Pete Bennett. Pete, Daniel Stevenson.”

  The two men nodded politely at each other.

  Daniel waved over the waiter. “A bottle of your best Merlot for the table.” Daniel liked to throw his money around, too.

  Pete held up his hand. “None for me, thanks. I’m driving us back to Nashville as soon as this is over.”

  Nodding, Daniel said, “Of course. A glass for myself and for the lady, then.”

  Pete eyed Daniel. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re not exactly crying in your beer over the passing of your best bud.”

  Daniel seemed to deflate before our eyes. “Truth be told, Scott and I had grown apart lately. I’m crushed over his death, but…I feel like I’d already lost my friend months ago. I’m honestly not at all surprised that this happened.”

  “You’re not surprised that he’s dead?” I asked.

  “No, not with his drug abuse. It was getting out of hand.”

  I glanced at Pete, but was unable to catch his eye because his gaze was fastened on Daniel’s arm, which was still around my shoulders. I said to Daniel, “You know for certain that he was using drugs?”

  “Yes. I’ve seen him using. At work.” He sighed. “I feel responsible for him losing his job. Mandi told me she found him with his hands in Chandra’s bag and asked me what she should do. I thought if Scott could get out of that environment and away from his easy access, it would help him. She didn’t want it to come from her, so I’m the one who told the higher-ups that he was stealing the samples, but I didn’t tell them that he was using. I tried going to him first and begging him to stop, but he pushed me away. He pushed everyone away. I felt like I had no other choice.”

  My heart sank. So it was true. Scott had descended into being a common druggie, and his death could have easily been an overdose or a bad combo. I let out a long sigh.

  At my reaction, Daniel tightened his grip on my shoulders and leaned his head toward me. “I’m sure you no longer held him on any kind of pedestal after what he did to you, but I know it hurts to hear the ugly truth about someone you once loved.” He removed his arm and handed me a glass of the wine that had just been delivered to our table. Holding his glass out toward mine, he said, “To Scott.”

  “To Scott.” I clinked my glass with his and took a big swig.

  Pete asked, “Do you know if Scott ever tried to get drugs from other sources? Was he involved with any dangerous people?”

  Daniel’s eyebrows shot up. “Scott
O’Malley? No, he was way too cautious a guy to ever consider using a drug dealer. It would have scared him to even talk to one over the phone.”

  “Too bad he wasn’t scared enough of what the drugs could do to his body,” I said quietly, an image of Scott as he keeled over flashing in my mind.

  Daniel nodded solemnly. “So true.” After we descended into a few minutes of awkward silence, he drained what was left in his wineglass and asked me, “Anything else you need from me? It seems your friend Pete here is more than ready to take you home.”

  I chuckled, if only to hide my discomfort. “Right. Um, I think we’re good. You’ve been a really great help, Daniel. I hated to hear what you had to say, but it helped me finally accept the fact that Scott’s death was simply a tragic accident.”

  He forced another sad smile. “I’m glad I could help. You keep in touch, okay? Pete, it’s been a pleasure.”

  “Something like that,” Pete replied.

  After Daniel had gone, I turned to Pete. “Not a fan?”

  “That guy is a world-class douche.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  Pete wrinkled his nose. “You think so, too? You weren’t mesmerized by his prettiness?”

  I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “I’m not some stupid schoolgirl, Pete. The Casanova thing is his shtick. You get past the douchery and he’s a fun guy to be around.”

  Shrugging, he said, “If you say so. Now can we put this investigation to rest and weather whatever Detective Delaney tries to pin on us?”

  “Absolutely. Let’s go home.”

  Chapter 10

  I hadn’t informed my parents that I was coming to town, so I figured if they somehow found out I’d been to Liberty, I could beg forgiveness for not stopping in to see them. It was well after nine o’clock by the time we finished dinner, so my parents would have already been in bed even if we did try to visit them. We swung by and grabbed Ryan, finally rolling into the parking lot at my apartment just before midnight.

  Ryan said, “Hey, thanks, you guys. I appreciate the ride.” He hopped out of Pete’s car and jogged over to the adjacent apartment building, where he lived.