Whole Latte Magic

by Samantha Silver

  “Alright, so tell me what you know about Kyle,” I said.

  “Not a ton, really. He doesn’t come in that often. Maybe once a month, so I know him by sight, but that’s about it. He works construction here in town.”

  “Why did Karen and Kyle move here if they don’t have any family ties to this place?”

  “For the weather. Karen is from Portland, but Kyle’s family is on the east coast. They met over there while Karen was in college, got married, but after a few years Kyle decided he had enough of trying to work construction in the middle of winter in Vermont, so they decided to come back out this way. Karen applied to a bunch of jobs, got one here, and so they ended up on Enchanted Enclave. But I think Aunt Lucy is wrong. I don’t think Kyle would have done this to her. From everything Karen’s said to me about him, and the few times I’ve seen them together, he seems like a really good guy. He seems to care a lot about Karen.”

  “Alright, so we’re going to have to look into the rest of her life,” I said. “What do you know about it?”

  Leanne shrugged. “Only that she works at the school. She teaches kids. She seems to enjoy her job, and while she seems quite a bit frazzled when she comes in I figure that’s sort of par for the course for a woman trying to juggle a full-time job and triplets.”

  “What about the other teachers? We should see if we can interview them, find out if someone had something against her. Friends, too.”

  “Good thinking,” Leanne said, snapping her fingers. “I know she’s actually good friends with Jack.”

  Jack Frost was a retired math teacher who had taught both my cousins when they were in high school, and was due in for his morning coffee soon. I hoped he would show up today.

  Sure enough, about half an hour later he walked through the door, his normally-friendly face looking a little bit more subdued.

  “Good morning, Jack,” I greeted him. “I’m sorry about Karen. I heard she’s a friend of yours.”

  “She is, yes,” Jack replied. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard what happened this morning. Such a huge shame. Who would do something like this to her?” He shook his head sadly before taking out his wallet. I rang through his regular order on the till.

  “Do you have any idea who might have done this?” I asked. “Was there anyone at the school she wasn’t getting along with?”

  “Well, she had a few disagreements with the principal, lately,” Jack said, handing over a ten. “Apparently, the two of them disagreed with how they should handle students who weren’t keeping up to standards. Karen wanted to let the parents know, bring them into the loop, and come up with strategies to get the students having a hard time get back up to speed. After all, in Karen’s mind, if they fell behind this early in their education, they were never going to catch back up, and it was just going to snowball. Whereas if she could get them back on track now, they’d have better odds of success when they got to high school. Which was a strategy I completely agreed with.”

  “What did the principal think?”

  “He believed that Karen should simply fudge reality a little bit on the report cards, move the child up to the next grade, and let the high school handle it when they got there. Of course, Karen strongly disagreed, and I know they’d had a few meetings about it.”

  Leanne gave me a hard look. “The school is actually not far from where we found Karen. It’s about half a mile away.”

  “I heard it was you who found her,” Jack said. “Thank you. I’ve been told you’re the reason she didn’t bleed to death. I appreciate you saving her life. You must be wrong about the principal though. I can’t see Gary Vanderchuck murdering Karen over a simple disagreement.”

  “What about anyone else at the school? Were there any teachers she disagreed with, or anyone she might have been close to?” I asked.

  “You’re not thinking of investigating this, are you?”

  “No, of course not,” Leanne lied smoothly. “We’re simply curious. After all, we’re the ones who found her; we know what kind of shape she was in. I really hope Chief Jones manages to get the person who did this off the street.”

  “So do I,” I Jack said grimly. “I really cannot think of a nicer person than Karen. And with those kids. Such a tragedy. I can’t imagine what Kyle and the boys are going through right now. I don’t know who else could have done it. Sasha was her best friend at the school. She could be worth talking to if you really want an idea as to who could have done it.”

  He took his coffee and chocolate chip banana muffin and left, with Leanne immediately turning towards me.

  “I think Gary Vanderchuck should be one of our best suspects. But we need to find Sasha,” I said.

  “I know her,” Leanne said. “She works part-time at the school, mainly as a substitute, but she spends her weekends and days when she’s not teaching volunteering at the animal shelter. She’ll be there when we close up, we can go and see her then.”

  That sounded like a good plan.

  Chapter 5

  The rest of the day flew by pretty quickly, but by the time we closed, I was definitely starting to drag.

  “Hey Leanne, can you show me how to make a coffee before we go?” I asked.

  “Sure,” Leanne answered. “It’s probably about time you learned how to use the espresso machine, anyway. What do you know about coffee?”

  “I know that if there was a way to hook myself up to an IV and inject it directly into my veins, I would do that.”

  “Alright,” Leanne said with a laugh. “So we’ll start with the basics. Coffee beans come to the factory raw. You can recognize the raw beans by their color; they’re green when they get here. In the back, Dad is in charge of roasting the beans we use here and that we distribute to other coffee shops and stores around the state. Basically, the longer the beans are roasted, the darker they are, and the stronger the flavor. We use our classic medium-roast blend here in the coffee shop.”

  “Classic Cauldron Blend,” I said, nodding. “I’ve seen the name on the bags when you dump them into the grinder.”

  “That’s the one,” Leanne said. “It’s got a rich, deep flavor profile, but it’s not overly strong. Now, once you have the beans, they need to be ground. That’s what this machine here is for.” She tapped the top of a large, black machine with a clear funnel at the top that was filled with beans. “I call him Henry. Henry grinds the beans, and gets them ready for use in the machine.”

  She motioned for me to come closer, and picked up one of the things she used to make the coffee. It was like a metal cup with a long, straight handle coming out of the side.

  “This is called the portafilter. Always clean it out with hot water before you start making a new cup of coffee; any old grinds in it have already been used and will simply burn if you run water through them again. I’ve already cleaned this one for you, so you’re going to put the ground up beans into there. Go ahead, try it.” She handed me the portafilter and I looked at the grinder. I placed the portafilter underneath it, and then pulled on a lever at the bottom of the grinder, like I’d seen Leanne do.

  A small pile of ground coffee fell out of the grinder and right into the portafilter’s basket.

  “Perfect,” Leanne said. “Pull it a second time. I have the grinder set up so that two pulls will give you the exact amount of ground coffee that you need.”

  I did as she said, and Leanne grabbed a small piece of metal off the counter. It was thicker at the bottom, and designed to fit perfectly in the basket.

  “Good. Now, this is a tamper. You’re going to press down on the coffee grinds with about thirty pounds of pressure. When we get home you can use the scale to see what thirty pounds is, but I always think of it as a decent, but not excessive amount of pressing. You’re going to put some effort in, but it shouldn’t be hard.”

  She handed me the silver tamper and I pressed down on the beans, trying to imagine what thirty pounds of pressure would feel like. When I was done, I looked up, and Leanne nodded approvi
ngly.

  “Good. The most important thing once you get the hang of it is to be consistent. If you don’t use enough pressure, the coffee will be watery and bland. If you use too much, the water will pass through the beans too slowly and will burn them, giving your coffee a bitter taste. So nail down the pressure, and be consistent.”

  “Got it. Do it perfectly every time or you’ll ruin everything.”

  Leanne laughed. “Ok, that’s a little extreme. There is some leeway. But the sooner you get it down pat, the better. Now that you’ve got the tampered coffee, you just need to slot it into the machine and press the button with two little cups on it.”

  “Alright,” I said, nodding. I’d seen Leanne do this a hundred times a day for the last six weeks or so, so I was fairly confident I could get it done. I lined up the protruding parts of the portafilter basket with the holes in the coffee machine, slotted it in, and twisted. The portafilter was in solidly, and I pressed the button, grabbing a take-out cup and slotting it under the portafilter.

  A couple of seconds later, golden rich crema began to pour from the two nozzles at the bottom of the portafilter and into the cup, like the nectar of the gods. The sweet aroma of roasted coffee floated up to my nostrils and I breathed in deep, inhaling the scent as I closed my eyes. This was perfection.

  “That looks pretty good,” Leanne said. “Obviously, I’m the best teacher in the world.”

  “I have to say so,” I replied with a grin. “What about the milk?”

  “Yeah, so to steam the milk, you want to get the temperature to one hundred and sixty degrees. Again, consistency is key. People come here every day because they know the coffee is going to be good, and they know exactly what they’re going to get. Some places just do it by touch, but we use a thermometer, just because they are going to give you the most accurate temperature every single time. Turn off the steamer when you hit a hundred and fifty five degrees; the temperature will climb another five degrees on its own. Fill the jug up to the halfway mark with milk.”

  I did as Leanne told me. “Alright, so I just put the wand from the steamer into the milk?”

  “Give the wand a quick burst of air first, just to get rid of any water that might be in the wand, so it doesn’t end up in the milk,” Leanne said. “And then yes. You want to steam and stretch the milk. So put the wand in the milk, turn on the steamer, and then lower the milk slowly until you hear a kind of ‘kissing’ sound.”

  “That’s it, that’s the sound,” Leanne said a minute later, after I’d followed her instructions. Sure enough there was a slight sound of air being sucked in, and as soon as the thermometer hit one fifty five I turned off the steamer. The temperature gauge rose just a tiny bit further, and I poured the milk into my cup, tilting it slightly.

  “Perfect,” Leanne smiled. “There you go, you’ve made your first cup of coffee.”

  I grinned, grabbed a lid and a sleeve for the cup, and took a sip. The rich, creamy coffee was like silk on my tongue, and I couldn’t help but feel accomplished for having made this.

  “Do you like it?” Leanne asked.

  “I do,” I said. “It’s delicious.”

  “Good,” Leanne replied. “Tomorrow I’ll teach you the differences between the different types of coffee, and then you can try serving customers if you’d like.”

  “I would like that,” I said.

  “Anyway, since we’re discussing you expanding your work here, what are your long-term plans in life?” Leanne said. “If that’s not too personal a question, anyway.”

  “No, no, that’s fine,” I replied. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  “There’s always the possibility of going into the family business,” Leanne said. “I mean, you might not want to be a barista your whole life, but eventually Aunt Debbie and Dad are going to retire, and I know they won’t put any pressure on us, but they’re hoping at least one of the cousins has some sort of interest in running the place.”

  “Are you and Kaillie going to do that?” I asked.

  “I would like to. Bossing people around is one of my favorite things to do, so management sounds like a good fit for me,” Leanne replied with a wink. “But seriously, I do like the idea of running the whole show. I think I’d be better on Dad’s side of things, dealing with distribution, sales, and the more administrative stuff. Kaillie is really happy where she is. She likes being in the kitchen, trying out new recipes, and doing the baking for the day. But there’s seriously no pressure, if you decide you want to be like, I don’t know, a whale watching tour operator then that’s fine too.”

  I laughed. “I’m not sure that’s the thing for me either. To be honest, I don’t really know what I want to do. I studied English Literature in college, but that was basically just because I enjoyed it and I didn’t know what else to take. I guess I haven’t really found my calling in life yet.”

  “Well, this is a good place to work on that,” Leanne said kindly. “You’ve always got a job here, so you can figure out what it is you want from your life. Plus, the more you chat with the customers and get involved with everything, the more you might find what it is you want to do. That was how I found out I wanted to manage the warehouse side of things. It was by being around everyone and everything.”

  “And if I decide that my calling in life is to manage the warehouse also?” I asked with a grin.

  “Then I will cut you,” Leanne threatened, then laughed. “Obviously, I’m kidding. But I do call dibs on that job. You could manage the coffee shop side of things if you wanted, though.”

  “Fair enough,” I said, laughing. “But yeah, I have to admit, I’m not sure what I want to do. Dad was the one who suggested I do my degree. He also thought I should take as many electives as I could in different fields of study, in case one of them tickled my fancy, but none of them really blew me away.”

  “Oh well, you have lots of time to figure it out,” Leanne said. “Anyway, for now, we do have a purpose: we have to go see Sasha at the animal shelter and find out who stabbed Karen.”

  Kaillie came out from the kitchen just then, with a small tub full of the delicious cookies she’d made earlier under her arm. “Ready to head home?” she asked.

  “Actually, Eliza and I were going to go do, uh, something in town first,” Leanne said.

  Kaillie’s eyes narrowed. “Something in town, you say?”

  “Yeah. Yoga.”

  I was fairly certain at least four muscles began to spasm in pain just at the idea of going back to that studio right now.

  “You don’t have yoga today. You have yoga on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It’s Saturday, remember? And it doesn’t start until six. You’re going to try and find the person who stabbed Karen, aren’t you?”

  “What? Why is that the first thing you’d think of? Do you really think so little of me?”

  “Yes,” Kaillie replied. “It fits your personality perfectly. You’re obviously lying about what you’re doing, so it’s something I would disapprove of. This is Enchanted Enclave, there are only so many ways you can get in trouble, and seeing as Karen was stabbed last night, and looking into that is absolutely the sort of thing you would do, yes, it was my first guess. And given your reaction, that’s exactly what you’re doing, isn’t it?”

  “Fine,” Leanne replied. “It is. Someone stabbed her, and I want to know who it is.”

  Kaillie sighed. “You never want me to be able to prove to the paranormal world that our family is deserving of being let back in. Why can’t you just be normal?”

  “I’m not even a witch; what I do can’t factor in,” Leanne argued.

  “We can’t know what factors in. Besides, you’re still a part of this family. Your father is a wizard, and you’d be a witch if men could pass down the witch gene. As far as we know, when it comes to evaluating our family and how they’re acting, you are considered.”

  “Well, in that case, they should look favorably on the fact that Eliza and I are putting our lives on the line to find an at
tempted murderer,” Leanne replied.

  “Or they’re going to look unfavorably on the fact that you’re throwing yourself into police investigations when you have absolutely no jurisdiction.”

  “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. We’re not going to give up because you’re afraid it’s going to look bad to some witches and wizards we don’t even know.”

  Kaillie sighed. “I can’t believe this. Fine. If you’re going to insist on doing this, then I’m going to insist on helping, if only to keep you out of trouble. Where are we going?”

  “To the animal shelter. We need to talk to Sasha,” Leanne replied without skipping a beat. “Jack Frost told us today that she was good friends with Karen, and we’re hoping that she’ll be able to tell us about any problems Karen was having, or who might have wanted her dead. We can catch you up on the way; we already have one suspect. We’ll need to organize a chat with him, too.”

  Kaillie sighed. “Why can’t you ever do anything without jumping in with both feet and your eyes closed?”

  A part of me kind of agreed with Kaillie. Life here on Enchanted Enclave was definitely a roller coaster.

  Chapter 6

  The Enchanted Enclave Animal Shelter was fairly deep in the woods, down a narrow gravel lane, not far from Roman and Leonard Steele’s property. The wooden sign at the front was well-worn, but had obviously been painted with care, and the shelter itself was a small but modern building, surrounded by high fences.

  As soon as the car pulled up, at least five or six dogs all ran up to the fence, tails wagging and tongues lolling. The space behind the fence was perfect for a bunch of dogs to play in – lots of grass, some trees, toys spread around – the people at the animal shelter obviously cared a lot about their charges.

  There were a few excited barks as Leanne, Kaillie and I made our way to the short, wooden building. We stepped inside and found ourselves in a lobby, guarded by a calico-colored cat lying on a small bed on top of the counter, staring at us and wiggling her tail.