A Cup of Murder

by Cam Larson

  A slight shuffling could be heard as most fidgeted with whatever they could find. At last Senator James Simms stood and came forward.

  "Michael was my brother. In his youth he was one of the most generous people I’ve ever known," said the Senator.

  He went on to laud his brother’s generosity to the less fortunate. Noting reactions among the crowd I didn’t miss how some looked with surprise at each other. Obviously, only a few had seen this side of Michael. I watched James as he spoke.

  "Though we had not spoken for several years, I regret that very much. But I will hold on to the good memories for many years to come. Our boyhoods were ones of close brothers. I am sure he has found peace again."

  Daniel looked at me and raised his eyebrows. It was as much as James had to come up with and he returned to sit down next to Sarah who sat next to his father. I didn’t know the Analyst but who else could it be? A brief silence ensued until someone I did not know went to the podium.

  "That’s John Andrews’ brother, Thomas," said Daniel. His voice was once again a whisper. "You remember. James’ campaign manager and good friend?"

  I remembered.

  Thomas Andrews gazed into the mourners faces. I wondered how he fit into the Simms’ lives.

  "Michael was a very good friend with my brother, John. In the past when we were all much younger I begged to tag along with the two older boys. Sometimes they let me come along but most of the time they didn’t want a little kid along with them. My brother died of an extreme asthma attack several years ago. I remember how hard it hit Michael. They were very close, almost like brothers."

  Thomas wiped his brow and then dabbed at his nose with a white handkerchief. Even from where I sat I could tell he still grieved.

  "I wonder if he is sad about his brother’s death or Michael’s," I said to Daniel, under my breath.

  Daniel peered at the man speaking. "Maybe both," he said.

  "As I said, when John died, Michael took it very hard. It was a sudden death and the tragedy took its toll on Michael," said Thomas. "He changed after that. I personally have only good memories of Michael. I used to watch him play poker. He could beat anyone who came against him. He was expert at the game in his early teens. And what did he do with his winnings? All of it went to the poor. That’s why he played. That gives you an idea of the real Michael."

  His muscular hand touched the coffin and he returned to his seat.

  The service ended and while the family remained to say their last good-byes the rest of us walked out of the mortuary. Daniel and I stood apart from the others.

  "That must have been what made Michael so bitter," I said. "His childhood friend dying so suddenly must have done it."

  "It could have been the cause of his bitterness," said Daniel.

  He didn’t sound convincing to me. Who knew why the man changed so drastically? My eyes were on individuals in the group now heading for their cars.

  "Should we go to the cemetery?" asked Daniel.

  "Why not?" I said. "We may as well see it to the end."

  "Come on then," said Daniel, "you can ride with me and we’ll get your car when it’s over."

  My day wouldn’t be over once Michael went to his final resting place. Roasted Love would have to hold its own most of the day. Jacob Weaver, my boss, still sat behind bars. He was next on my list to see before I went back to work. The police must have something on him or he would be out by now.

  For some reason, thoughts of Janie came to my mind from nowhere. I couldn’t figure out why her personality seemed to change since the cops came to get Jacob. Then I had a sudden remembrance of the figure of the man I glimpsed at the edge of my yard. I shuddered. Is it related in any way?

  Chapter Fourteen

  At the jail, I hardly recognized Jacob. Shoulders curved inward and lines dug deeper into his face. The person who came into the visitor’s room was a broken man.

  "How’s it going, Jacob?"

  How lame is that, I thought? He looked at me and pasted a slight smile on his lips. It didn’t go any deeper than that. My heart went out to him. He swung his legs over the bench across the table from me.

  "Not so good, Laila. They tell me they have evidence against me."

  "What kind of evidence, Jacob?" I knew he was a suspect, but actual evidence?

  "One of the practice notes I wrote to Michael was found in the file cabinet behind my desk at Roasted Love. Not only that, they found traces of a poisonous substance on the note. They tell me it was belladonna and that that was what poisoned Michael. I don’t even know what belladonna is. There is no way I could have gotten my hands on poison, but they don’t care about that."

  Thoughts slammed my head. Could someone who works at Roasted Love have planted it all? Of course that presumes Jacob really didn’t kill his rival. The other question would be who at his coffee house would do such a thing?

  "They found a similar threatening note at my house in the nightstand by my bed. I explained the notes to you, Laila."

  Eyes pled with me in desperation.

  "Why didn’t you destroy those notes at your house after you left me the other night?"

  His hands opened up as if he was as baffled as I was.

  "You have to find out who knew where to get this belladonna stuff, Laila," said Jacob. "You have to for my sake."

  "I’m no detective, Jacob."

  His facial expression was one that said his last lifeline slipped away. I felt bad about speaking so quickly. I reached for his hand. The nearby guard frowned. I pulled my hand away.

  "Look, Jacob, I’ll do all I can. You do have a good lawyer, don’t you?"

  He nodded yes and spoke in low tones.

  "Laila, if I am found guilty and sent to prison for life, I want you to take over Roasted Love. You know what you are doing and you are the best person for it."

  That was when I knew for sure Jacob had given up all hope. The shattered man stood and thanked me for coming to visit him.

  ###

  That day someone left the daily newspaper on the counter of Roasted Love next to the register. The headlines read: Jacob Weaver Arrested for the Murder of Michael Simms.

  Roasted Love filled to capacity from early afternoon through closing. No one held back on expressing opinions of belief or disbelief of the owner of the coffee house. Janie had gone home at the end of her shift. Once again I asked Lily to bring Eddie in to help out.

  "You may want to think about hiring more workers, Laila," said Lily at closing time. "Until Jacob’s trial, I know the crowds will continue. It’s all big news around here. His trial may not happen for a while."

  "Let’s give it through the rest of the week. I’ll have to clear it with Jacob about hiring more people."

  Lily looked at me intently as if to say: why should I ask a convicted man about running the business. The thought of how much, or how little, I knew about Lily ran through my mind. For that matter, what did I really know about Janie or Eddie?

  "He still owns the place," I said. "I have to run things by him like I’ve always done."

  I locked the back door, last to leave and worried about Thor left at home. He probably needed to be let out by now. The day had been much longer than he was used to waiting. Driving from the parking lot I glanced at Sunrise. It remained dark and it struck me as strange not to see any movement over there. A few businesses near it were closing for the night. The scene gave an eerie feeling to the Piazza. I was glad I had my car with me. There was security in it as I drove toward home.

  My worries about Jacob escalated. What did I miss? If, as Jacob told me, the police found evidence at Roasted Love that did not belong to him, then someone who had access to Roasted Love planted it there.

  "It may have been a customer who slipped in the back door when everyone was busy upfront," I said aloud.

  Ideas about all of it were a jumbled heap in my mind. There were so many possibilities but nothing clear came to mind. Hidden clues had to be there. How to uncover them was jus
t as much a mystery as the fact that evidence against Jacob had been found.

  "Like I said, Jacob, I’m no detective as much as I want to be now," I mumbled to myself as I parked the car.

  I unlocked my door and an excited large monster of a dog almost knocked me from my feet. Thor then ran to the back door and I hurried to let him out. My compliments to him for waiting were lost on him. He raced around the yard after taking care of business and was happy to run in circles. I watched him from my kitchen window and then turned to make a salad for starters.

  Opening my freezer door on top of refrigerator I stood looking as if something would magically leap out at me. I was in no mood to cook anything from scratch.

  "A veggie pizza will do it tonight," I said. I added mozzarella and turned the oven on. "You need to get a life, Laila. You wouldn’t talk to yourself so much."

  Thor had run long enough to remember it was his dinner time. He ate as if starved and we both went out to the small patio where I finished the last of the pizza. I thought about Jacob and his story about the belladonna. I believed him when he said he had no way of knowing what that was, much less getting it.

  "What do you think, Thor?" I ruffled his neck and his voice sounded like a purr. "What are we missing, boy?"

  Tomorrow would be another busy day at Roasted Love. I turned in early, still mad at myself for not coming up with anything to help Jacob. Just before drifting off to sleep I considered enlisting the help of Daniel. The way he looked at me sometimes, I knew I had only to ask for a lending hand.

  The next morning Thor focused on me at breakfast. It was as if he accused me of intentions to leave him behind again. When I picked up his leash, he literally danced to the door. With him at my side I didn’t mind walking.

  "Just be there when I need you, Thor," I reminded him.

  The walk was brisk and we turned the corner at Roasted Love. I glanced at the trash bin that I once escaped to safety from the ferocious monster by my side.

  "Remember how you attacked me on this spot, Thor? You’re lucky I took you in."

  Thor tugged at the leash. Trash was spread out around the bin as if someone threw some in and missed the large container. I made a mental note to remind everyone to be sure trash got in under the lid. Thor was relentless while he yanked me toward the garbage. He went for some leftover food in a plastic bag.

  "Get away from that, Thor," I commanded, to no avail.

  He tore open the sack and quickly gobbled a half-eaten bagel with cream cheese on it. My eyes riveted on the other contents that included several envelopes. Michael Simms’ name was printed on the outside of all three of them.

  I wondered how trash from Sunrise landed on this side of the street. I bent to pick it all up as I pushed Thor aside with a bite of bagel hanging from his mouth. Picking up the envelopes, I saw there was more. A picture of Michael and his brother James lay beneath the scattered stack. It was exactly like the one I saw in the Senator’s foyer except this one showed a third person in the same photo. On the back side of the photo was written: Mike, James, John. Under the names was the word ‘redemption.’

  Questions flooded me again. Why did James Simms cut out John from his framed picture? I was sure John was John Andrews. Sifting through the rest of the contents were a few notes that had numbers on them and a blurred photo of a woman who resembled Michael and James. I presumed this was their mother. Glancing around me I gathered the papers and took them inside Roasted Love with me.

  Janie was there alone and busy getting scones to the front of the shop. Since Jacob was no longer coming in she opened every morning and was there before me.

  "Janie, I’ll start coming in at Jacob’s usual time to help you out."

  She nodded agreement and headed to the front. I locked the finds in my locker and clocked in. Until Jacob was released from jail, my days would prove to be long ones.

  Janie had little to say throughout the morning, even when she had the chance.

  "What’s up, Janie?" I asked her when she handed me the order for a couple of Frappes.

  "What do you mean? I’m just busy," she said.

  For the first time since I had known her, her manner toward me appeared cool.

  "You just seem a little cold toward me. Is it something I’ve done to upset you?" I could be as persistant as my server.

  She gave a half smile attempt to be genuine, but failed. "I’m all right. Just a lot of stress with my kids. They need so much and it’s all just ordinary stuff. I may need to get a second job. Can you give me extra hours here by any chance?"

  "I’ll see what I can do but I’ll have to talk to Jacob first to make sure it is o.k. with him."

  She nodded and hurried to the couple who wanted the Frappes. The nagging impression her behavior had more to do with something other than her kids stayed with me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Around eleven I took an espresso into Jacob’s office for a break. Lily and Janie sat at the back table in the front of the coffee house in case customers came in. The office appeared empty without the computers. I gathered receipts from the day before and took them to my locker. Not only would my days at Roasted Love be long ones, but they wouldn’t end when I got home. I decided it made more sense to bring my laptop to work and make the entries there.

  Thor didn’t seem to mind the retractable leash I set up for him behind Roasted Love. I made sure it was long enough to give him a little exercise until I could let him off it later in the day. He eagerly accepted a dog treat when I went out to check on him. I pet him and left him happy.

  "Looks like some action across the street," Janie said when I came back to the front.

  A man and woman stood outside Sunrise. The man gestured to the windows and overall appearance of the place. The SUV in front read West River Realty in bold print on the side of it.

  "They must be selling the place," said Lily.

  Customers were coming in. Once again they chose to stand and look out the window.

  "Lily, you and Janie start taking orders."

  "Yeah," said Lily. "Those tables and chairs aren’t bleachers for the arena."

  Patrons found ringside tables and placed orders while I started my position at the espresso machine. The stress of the situation was taking a toll on me early in the day.

  "I wish they would just talk about usual stuff," I said. "They all act like they know everything."

  The subject at hand would feed more gossip. On the flip side, maybe it would take away from what they thought about Jacob for a while.

  "How can they talk about anything else?" said Janie. "Aren’t you the least bit interested in what’s going to happen over there?"

  "Sure, as long as it’s not turning into another coffee house," I said.

  Janie laughed. "That would add to the drama. It would make a good movie."

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "It would make a good serial movie on TV. A second owner to a second coffee house murdered over rivalry?"

  I hoped my look was one of searing. "Does it bother you that Jacob is in jail for something he didn’t do?"

  This time she looked in disbelief at me and walked away. Lily chatted with someone very familiar to me. She handed a menu to Senator James Simms who took the last place with a good view of Sunrise.

  "Senator," a voice boomed. "Good to see you in our neck of the woods again."

  A man a few inches shorter than James sat down across from him. I edged a little closer, but behind the Senator. It wasn’t beneath me to eavesdrop.

  "So you are selling Michael’s place over there?" he asked.

  "Michael left it to John’s mother, Marianne." I made a mental note of the name. "She asked me to get a realtor on it. Shouldn’t be hard to sell on this street. I’m surprised these small businesses are doing so well."

  "This area gets busier by the day. In spite of Michael’s personality, he did bring in customers. It helped all of us."

  I recognized the speaker as owner of a small bookstor
e down the street. So, Sunrise now belonged to a Marianne Andrews. Just before I turned back to fill another order I felt James’ eyes on me. He looked surprised and it was then I knew I had blown my cover. Neither of us spoke and I was once again filling orders.

  When things settled a little I returned to the kitchen and started the clean-up, getting ready for the next crowd to come.

  "Laila," said Lily. "That Senator wants to see you. I hear he is Michael Simms brother."

  "Maybe he wants you to buy Sunrise," said Janie who came up behind her.

  "I sure don’t need a coffee house," I said.

  My smile told Janie I still had a sense of humor, or at least I hoped it said that. I took off my apron and approached James Simms.

  "You wanted to see me?" I asked him.

  "I’m surprised a reporter works in a coffee house."

  "I’m filling in some since the owner is in jail," I said.

  "I hear you are the Barista over here and no reporter at all."

  "O.k. you got me," I said. "I’m sorry I duped you and your wife."

  There wasn’t much else I could say at that point. I hoped to get him into a conversation that at least bordered on friendly. If he accepted my apology, all the better.

  "You aren’t the first impostor in my life. I want to know why you were so interested in Michael and his personality traits unless it has something to do with your boss being held for his murder."

  "It may all be connected," I said. "It’s just that I’ve heard so many things that don’t add up about Michael. He seemed to have more than one personality. I think there are more possibilities of a murderer than Jacob."

  James held his eyes on mine. "They found evidence against him."

  "It could have been planted against him you know."

  "Really. How do you figure that?"

  I took a deep breath. "Jacob had no way to get poison. He didn’t even know what belladonna was. And, for sure, he would never have gone into Sunrise for any reason, even to kill someone." I leaned back with satisfaction.