by Cam Larson
Chapter Nine
During the interview with the Simms couple, no opportunity to find out what Sarah Simms did outside the condo presented itself. I could not shake the plush living quarters from my mind and decided she spent her time in a social life of her own. Her remarks about Michael’s opinions regarding the working poor told me she didn’t do charity work. At least no charity work that followed along the lines of helping the less fortunate. My curiosity about her drove me to resolve to research the lives of Senator Simms’ family, specifically Sarah Simms.
When I returned from New York City that evening I stopped to pick up Thor. I hoped Jacob and my dog had hit it off well. When my boss opened the front door, Thor eagerly greeted me wagging his tail with excitement. His almond shaped eyes lit up, if a dog’s eyes can do that. I smelled fresh coffee brewing.
"I’ll get you a cup of coffee," said Jacob.
Thor followed behind him. A tinge of jealousy shot through me when I thought they hit it off too well. Of course, to Thor, a kitchen meant food and he was disappointed when Jacob didn’t hand any to him. When we sat down, Thor settled at my feet and I was happy to know where his allegiance was.
"I put my own special ingredients in your coffee," said Jacob.
I have to admit that comment shook me somewhat. It seemed a bit out of line considering the circumstances, but Jacob had seemed a bit unstable lately. I took a sip right away to let him know I didn’t suspect him of poisoning Michael, or in this case, me. The taste had a richness that was delicious.
"This tastes better than at Roasted Love," I said.
There was an underlying feeling that his comment had meant to be a test. Maybe he was still hurt at my hesitation in voicing his innocence the day he asked me. I chided myself that I was reading things that weren’t there. Right now, I needed to relax.
"Have the police been back to question you?" I asked.
"They did so again as I was closing the shop today around five. With no evidence, because there is none, they didn't arrest me as you can see."
He set his coffee mug on the glass top table in front of him and leaned back.
"Laila, I will admit that when Michael died, a part of me was more than glad. It was a huge relief that it happened. I was getting tired of the constant battling between the coffee houses and it was making me crazy. The more I think about it, the more I realize his family and friends are suffering from his loss. I’m beginning to look at the incident itself and how some people are probably affected by it. I think of the whole incident more than my opponent no longer here to compete with."
His demeanor was one of remorse. I thought the liberation of not having the owner of Sunrise in his life had something to do with it, whether he realized it or not. A burden had been lifted from Jacob and he appeared the same as before Michael entered our lives.
"I agree with that. I’m sure his family is sad about the whole matter," I said. I hesitated and then said, "I went to New York City to meet with his brother James Simms, the Senator, today."
Jacob sat up straight. "Why did you meet with him?"
"I'm investigating the murder of Michael."
The cloud rose in his face, the same one I recently witnessed whenever Jacob felt he had to defend himself from murdering Michael. The teddy bear transformed to a deeply angered man in a matter of seconds.
"Why would you get involved in something so dangerous? That is pure recklessness on your part. People get killed when they get into situations like that."
"Situations like what?" I asked. "I simply wanted to talk with him."
"You have no experience in solving murders and it is impossible to understand why you would do something like that. Don’t get involved with matters out of your league."
"You may not realize it, Jacob, but you are still under suspicion for his murder. I only wanted to step in and do a little investigating on my own. I plan to take anything concrete that I find to the police. The goal is to exonerate you."
He glared at me and stood up. Thor’s low growl told me the dog was smart enough to be on guard.
"Keep out of this, Laila," he said in measured tones. "I can take care of myself."
He grabbed his coffee and left Thor and me in a dumbfounded state as he stepped onto his patio and slammed the back door. Fear slithered upward in me like a snake trying to find refuge from an enemy. In my haste to gather Thor and his remaining food by the door, I knocked my coffee cup over. Quickly, I reached for whatever I could find to wipe the spill up. As it happened, there were newspapers on the coffee table and I picked up the top sheets. After soaking most of the small pile I pulled the drier pages apart. My intention was to spread them out to dry in case Jacob wanted to read them. It was then that I froze at what I saw.
"Sell Sunrise of else" printed with a black magic marker exposed itself in plain sight. The word ‘else’ was in dark red. I heard the back door open. I scrambled to bury the note back where I hoped it had been.
At the doorway to the living room Jacob looked at me. I grabbed the remaining dog food bag and hurried for the front door. Thor followed all too willingly.
"I have to get home. It is getting late," I said to Jacob. "Thanks for keeping Thor for me."
He remained standing where he was. His silence told me he knew I had seen the threat in black and red letters. For the first time, I knew Jacob Weaver was a threat to me as well.
With Thor at my heels, my reaction of fear mimicked the day the dog tried to attack me, only this fear ran much deeper and the source was no animal. My hands shook violently when I put the key in the ignition. Thor sat upright, straight as a board in the back seat. I counted on him hanging on as I spun away.
Chapter Ten
When I walked into my living room I felt renewed peace around familiar surroundings. After I fed Thor and let him outside for a while, I relaxed in my easy chair and picked up the remote control for the TV. I needed a good distraction right now. Thoughts of Jacob’s reactions during the evening were something I wanted to push to the back of mind until I calmed down. I began to search for a good movie when there was a knock on my door. My immediate reaction was one of tenseness and I wondered who it could be. Looking through the peephole I saw that it was Jacob. I debated the idea of letting him in. After a few seconds, I opened the door.
Neither of us spoke and he hesitated before coming on in. "I’m sorry, Laila for interrupting your evening but I want to explain some things."
I stepped back and he came in. I gestured to the chair and he lowered his frame easily. We looked at each other and finally I asked him to explain whatever it was he felt he needed to explain to me. Still on my guard, I was ready to hit 911 on my cell phone if needed.
"I know you saw the note I wrote to Michael. I was caught up in the rivalry and it was to be a response to his written threats to me. Two of his notes were worded exactly the same in black and red letters except he printed Roasted Love instead of Sunrise, of course."
It was hard to wrap my head around the juvenile actions of two grown men. I couldn’t find any words to answer Jacob and he picked up again on his explanation.
"I was sucked into his drama and made the mistake of playing things his way. I have no idea why I did that. The police are well aware of the problems between us."
Looking at the beaten man in front of me caused me to soften my attitude a little. There was no doubt that Jacob would be more likely to lash out in anger toward Michael Simms with a direct confrontation rather than passing notes back and forth like school boys. Any response to written threats like that by Jacob seemed out of character for the man I thought I knew. He didn’t mince words of strong dislike for Michael. He never cared who witnessed him. His spurts of anger came suddenly and there was no control over his emotions at times like that.
Above all, I was sure he wouldn’t step foot into Sunrise and I doubt Michael would have wanted to meet him in his own coffee shop that late, or at all. I sat down across from my boss.
"Was the note I saw the only one y
ou have?"
"It’s the only one I have at my house. I wrote it at home and planned to put it at his door in the next day or so. I have no idea if Michael kept any. I sent him one other one about a week ago."
There were no words when he said that. If any notes were found by police then it would only prove another strike against Jacob. Evidence like that was a sure cause for arrest. The sick feeling that crept around in my stomach didn’t let up. At this point I found it hard to listen to more incrimination. I opted to go for practical observations in the whole matter.
"Jacob, whoever killed Michael is a methodical person. It is someone who is particular about details and gets his or her way in an underhanded manner. The person had to have patience and wait for his chance. Somehow you just don’t fit that profile when it comes to the way he was murdered."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean the way your anger rises up with no warning signs tells me you wouldn’t have planned every little detail. You just would not have had the patience to wait for the right moment."
I threw a winning smile in his direction. For once, I thought his trait of spontaneous irritation might serve him well in this case.
"You mentioned a couple days ago that there was suspicion that he was poisoned. Is that confirmed? Do you know what kind of poison was used?" he asked.
There was no way I was going to reveal what Daniel Jenkins had told me and so I feigned ignorance of details like that.
"That brings another point to make. Unless you have access to poisonous chemicals we have to conclude someone else did. I just don’t know who at this point."
"Laila," Jacob said, his voice deep and almost guttural."I know you've been investigating as a favor to me, but you need to stop. Whoever killed Michael isn't messing around. Don't get yourself killed over this."
"Jacob," I say, clapping my hand on his big shoulder. "Follow me."
I led him into my bedroom. I had put up a corkboard and pinned notes of information I had so far in order of discovery. His name, comments and actions were set apart from the chronological order of the main part of the board which now resembled lodgepole pines with perfectly straight branches. There was a name at the top of each ‘branch.’
"We should think of other business owners who had a vendetta with Michael Simms," I said. "He brushed against more people than you."
"That’s true, Laila. Enough business owners down the street have had problems with him in the past...but, I bet they weren't hotheaded enough to respond to Michael's threats."
"Do you still have the ones he wrote to you?"
"I think I tore them up but I may have them around my desk someplace."
"Let’s hope you can find them before the police decide to search Roasted Love and find only your written threats. You don't have any other threats in your house, do you? The police will probably search that too if they find any more evidence against you."
"I practiced writing more notes than you found tonight," he said. "I wanted to duplicate the way he threatened me. I did that at work."
The more I realized how deep the rivalry between the coffee house owners had gone, the more I knew Jacob had done a good job of convicting himself. The immature actions on the parts of two grown men definitely had gone too far.
"My suggestion is for you to find all exchanges with Michael tonight and get rid of them in your home. Early tomorrow do the same thing at Roasted Love. For now, let’s get back to my corkboard. You can help me see things I haven’t figured out yet."
I glanced in his direction and saw him look at his name in bold print down the left side of the board. He may as well know I was picking at him just like anyone else that could be the murderer. He commented on how many times I had his name and actions up there.
"I had to put everything I’ve observed so far and you have to admit, Jacob, that your behavior has been a little erratic since Michael Simms first opened Sunrise."
He nodded his head. "It’s good, I guess, to see it written down and I know that once the cops interview people about me a little more, they won’t have to see it in writing. Just listening to them will give the same picture as what you have pinned up here."
"What about Michael’s wife?" asked Jacob. "I heard they didn’t get along so well."
"I’ve thought about her but haven’t gotten anything up there yet. Jen told me she and Michael were having an affair. He broke it off, telling her he wanted to mend his relationship with his wife. It is all hearsay but she could be a suspect."
I wrote ‘Michael’s wife’ on an index card, noted possible resentment at his affairs from her standpoint and pinned it on the top right side. I provided each suspect with their own column. I commented to Jacob that she would be someone who would meet with Michael at the coffee house. I didn’t even know her name at this point. I'm sure it was mentioned in the article I had read about Michael, but her name seemed to be a footnote in comparison to his and his family's accomplishments.
"Why would they not meet in their own home in that case?" asked Jacob.
"Good point," I said. "Let’s move on."
"What about the Real Estate guy that had problems with Michael when he first wanted to buy the place? What was his name?" asked Jacob.
"Robert Mitchell. I heard he moved his real estate office to Upstate New York about a week after he closed the deal with Michael. Once the deal was done I doubt he ever talked to Michael again."
We talked about Jen Perry. She was upset about Michael breaking up with her. There was no way to know how much truth was in what she had told me so far. She could be just building her own case and throwing it out to me as a test to see how plausible it was. I mentioned to Jacob her comment about Michael’s argument with his brother, the Senator on the phone.
We decided to call it a night. We both had a lot to think about.
I stretched out in bed and decided to seek Jen Perry before she approached me again on her own. I wanted to ask her more questions about her relationship with Michael Simms.
Chapter Eleven
When I left my house the next morning with Thor by my side the sun was out bright. Sun streaming through leaves on the trees was the only light I saw to begin my day. Once again I sensed someone watching me and the feeling within me was the same as the night I arrived home after Michael’s murder. I looked around and saw nothing except the usual morning activity along the street.
Thor walked alongside me and I was glad I had the dog with me. I knew all too well how ferocious he could be when called upon for protection. Rounding the corner just before Roasted Love the unsettling feeling rushed through me again and I picked up the pace while I considered asking Jacob to give me a ride home later that day.
Ahead of me at the curb was a patrol car. Two uniformed policemen were bringing Jacob Weaver out of Roasted Love, handcuffed. I stood still. He didn’t see me and I did not bring attention to myself. His face ashen, he stumbled a little when they put him into the cruiser. One officer placed his hand on top of Jacob’s head as he dipped into the backseat, out of sight. I turned to the alley behind our coffee house and came in through the back door. Janie was taking something out of the oven and I caught the whiff of burned egg hash.
"Jacob was just arrested," she said.
I reached for a hot pad and took the long pan from her hands before she let go. It seemed her whole body was on a fast course to collapsing.
"I saw them putting him into the car," I said. "What happened?"
"The two cops who were here the other day came in and asked for him. I took them back to where he was just putting the egg hash into the oven. We had several people wanting some so he went ahead and made the full pan."
I encouraged her to go on about the arrest.
"The next thing I knew they had Jacob in handcuffs and brought him through the main part of Roasted Love. Not a table was empty and I felt so bad for Jacob," she said.
I could imagine how he felt. More than humiliation, I was sure all he could think about was go
ing back behind bars again. Of all days, today would be busier than ever with everyone wanting to gossip and pick up as much information as possible about the unfolding of the mystery of Jacob Weaver’s arrest. There was no chance for me to get to the jail to visit Jacob right away.
"Did they say why they were arresting him?"
"Just that they were arresting him for the murder of Michael Simms."
My heart sank. They had the wrong man. I had no real reason to pin the murder on anyone else at this early stage of my investigation but I knew Jacob had not killed his rival. I ran the picture of my corkboard over again in my mind. I had Jacob’s name up there, Michael’s wife whose name remained unknown to me, Jen Perry and this morning while sipping my coffee I had written James Simms on a new card with the intentions of completing what I knew about him down his branch of the tree. Then there were several merchants on the Piazza who had run-ins with Sunrise’s owner in the past.
Janie handed me three orders for espresso and I began my daily routine. Ignoring conversations proved next to impossible to do but I resolved to not participate in any way. I overheard two people avowing innocence of Jacob Weaver. Others nodded their heads in agreement, but I wondered how long that loyalty would hold.
"I heard they found some evidence against Jacob over at Sunrise," said a woman near the counter.
"What was it?" asked her companion.
"I don’t know. I just know they found something."
It was going to be a long day. Janie handed me another order for cappuccino and French toast. By this time Lily was in and so our work was evenly divided. I explained briefly to Lily what was going on. The sympathy in her eyes was genuine as she went right to work. There were no words necessary from Lily, Janie or me to one another.
"There’s someone at that back table who wants to talk to you, Laila," said Janie.
"Tell whoever it is I’ll see them as soon as I’m caught up. Who is it?"
"I think it is that Barista from Sunrise but I’m not sure," said Janie.