MY FAIR LATTE

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MY FAIR LATTE Page 16

by Vickie Fee


  “Yeah. Family relationships can be complicated,” I said, thinking about my own mother.

  “Tell me. It took Dad a while to accept it when Bart came out, but fortunately he came around before…well, before the plane crash.”

  As the night wore on and our cold beer supply dwindled, Kendra said how much she cared about Joe—stopping just shy of actually admitting she loved him. And at some point during the night, past the point of tipsy, we both may have shared some personal details about things like first boyfriends.

  It was all a bit blurry to me by the time sunlight assaulted my eyes, and I doubted Kendra would remember much about it either. I awoke with Eartha Kitty on my chest, gently pawing at my face. And Kendra was on the sofa, snoring loudly, with an empty beer bottle still in her hand.

  I let her sleep while I made coffee in the French press, boiling water in a kettle and letting it cool briefly before pouring it over coarsely ground coffee beans and slowly pressing down the plunger. After steeping for five minutes, I decanted the aromatic brew into an insulated carafe. Kendra roused as I was pouring coffee into a couple of mugs.

  “Ouch,” she said as she sat up quickly and pressed her fingers against her apparently throbbing temples. In a moment she said, “Morning. Did you get the license plate number of the truck that hit me?”

  “I think it was a brown bottle with a billboard on the side that said, ‘one too many.’ Here, have some coffee.”

  I handed her one of the mugs, hanging onto it until I was sure she had a firm grip.

  “Oh, thanks. I may need a few of these. Do you have any aspirin?”

  “Sure, just a sec.” I retrieved a pill bottle out of the bathroom medicine cabinet for Kendra. “Here’s some aspirin-type stuff. Do you want some water?”

  “No, this is fine. Thanks.”

  I walked into the kitchen and dropped two slices of sourdough bread in the toaster and scrambled some eggs.

  “I wonder if Joe is still in jail.” Kendra said.

  I plated up our breakfast and set Kendra’s on the coffee table.

  “I imagine so. It’s only five after seven. Wait a minute. Let me call George and see if he can find out anything. He’s buddies with most of the old guys in town, including some of the powers that be at city hall, I think. Although George never reveals his sources.”

  I phoned George and told him what little we knew. He said he’d call back in a bit. Then Kendra’s phone buzzed. It was Bart saying he was about to hit the road and should be here by about 9:20.

  “I should get cleaned up and pull myself together, but I don’t want to leave until you hear back from George.”

  “You’re welcome to use my shower and I can loan you a clean t-shirt.”

  From the sound of water I knew Kendra was still in the shower when George called back.

  “I don’t know about when Joe might be released. But he hasn’t been charged with anything. And I don’t know exactly what they found in his car, but a reliable source says the search warrant was for prescription drugs based on an anonymous tip.”

  “Thanks, George.”

  “No problem. Wait. Trudy wants to talk to you.”

  “Halley, how is Kendra holding up?”

  “She was really upset last night. She ended up sleeping on my sofa. And we both might have had a little too much to drink. Fortunately, Bart is driving over to help her out today at work.”

  “Oh, good. I’m glad to hear it. You let us know if you hear anything and we’ll do the same.”

  “Thanks, Trudy. You and George are the best.”

  In a few minutes Kendra emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head and wearing my blue t-shirt. The shirt looked better on her. I told her what George had reported.

  “An anonymous tip? That stinks like poo. I’m guessing those prescription drugs were used to kill Vince. Can’t the cops see that someone is trying to frame Joe?”

  She broke down crying again.

  “You’re right. It stinks. But George did say Joe hasn’t been charged with anything. I’m guessing they’d need to find some way to tie him to the drugs. After all, you need a prescription to buy prescription drugs.”

  “You’re right. I need to hold good thoughts. I’ve got to get things ready to open at my place, so I better be going.”

  She picked up the toast on her plate and took a bite.

  “You want some coffee to go?”

  “Yeah. It’d be a bad idea to drink beer this early, right?”

  “Right.”

  I filled her cup and handed it to her. “Try not to worry too much.”

  “Thanks for everything. If you hear anything else from George call me right away, okay?”

  CHAPTER 22

  I hurriedly got cleaned up and dressed and went downstairs to get the coffee bar ready to open at eight. A few customers came and went. A little before ten, I walked over to the sitting area in the lobby to collect some empty coffee cups left behind by customers, when I spotted Joe walking up the sidewalk to Hidden Clue Escape Rooms. I felt relieved knowing he’d been released. He must’ve called because before he even reached the door, Kendra shot out onto the sidewalk. She propelled herself into his arms, throwing her arms around his neck. Her feet left the ground as he swept her into a tight embrace. After a long moment, she pulled back and gave him a smile so bright it almost blinded me from across the street. She took his hand and led him inside. I was so happy for Kendra—and Joe.

  In a bit, I had finished going over the carpet and was putting the vacuum cleaner away when I heard a loud rattle at the front door. I looked up to see Kendra and rushed over to let her in.

  “Joe’s been released,” she said beaming.

  “I know. I happened to catch a glimpse of him walking up the sidewalk to your place.”

  She blushed, presuming, I guessed, that I’d seen their emotional hello.

  “We’ve got customers, so I should get back and help Bart. I just wanted to let you know.”

  “I’m glad you did. What did Joe tell you?”

  “It was prescription drugs in the glove box, which of course Joe knew nothing about. It’s some kind of strong heart medicine, but it’s not the same drug they prescribed for Joe’s dad after his heart attack last year—which should have immediately put Joe in the clear. But the cops tried to suggest Joe’s sister, Jennifer, the one in pharmacy school, somehow got the drug for him, like it was this big family conspiracy he dragged his little sister into. Ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head.

  “They also asked him a hundred times about leaving the theater during the movie on opening night. Remember, he ran across the street to make sure everything was okay at the restaurant, even though Ling had promised to call him if anything came up. Anyway, his guess is the cops think he went to the restaurant or to his car to get the drugs when he saw Vince was here—which is also dumb.”

  “They released him, so that has to be good, right?”

  “Yeah, they can only hold suspects like a day or two without charging them, so obviously they don’t have anything on Joe that they could actually charge him with. Plus, there’s zero motive. He didn’t even know the guy. I think even the cops know the whole anonymous tip thing is pretty lame.”

  She turned to the door, then froze and turned back toward me.

  “I almost forgot. Joe invited me to have dinner with him tonight just after closing to celebrate being out of jail. He invited you and Bart, too. But Bart’s leaving as soon as we close to drive back to Fayetteville, since Simon’s not traveling at the moment. Will you come with me?”

  “No, I think that’s a dinner you can handle all by yourself,” I said, opening the door for her.

  I did touch-up cleaning in the restrooms and caught up on paperwork. Midday, my thoughts were just turning toward lunch when I got call from Kendra.

 
“Hey, girl. Bart is shooing me out, telling me I should take advantage of his being here to take a real lunch break for a change. You want to grab a bite somewhere?”

  “Sure, what are you in the mood for?”

  “I thought we could eat at the pizza parlor. I know I eat that a lot, but it’s always take-out. Dining in would make for a change.”

  “Sounds good to me. When?”

  “Is now okay? I’m standing in front of the theater.”

  I met her outside and we started walking up the hill. We’d only walked a few steps when I spotted Detective Stedman cross the street and enter The Wooden Nickel Saloon.

  “I wonder if he’s going to question Trey,” Kendra said.

  “I don’t think anybody goes to The Wooden Nickel for the food, and I can’t imagine our straightlaced detective drinking in the middle of the day.”

  “Since the detective has accused both of us of following the cops around, why don’t we?”

  “Why don’t we what?”

  “Follow him into the saloon and see what he’s up to,” Kendra said. “I’d like to know he’s pursuing suspects other than Joe.”

  When we walked in I spied Detective Stedman standing next to a booth, talking with a young couple.

  Kendra and I took a seat at the end of the bar, where we had a good view of most of the room. Trey was punching keys on his cell phone, but glanced over to us with a lurid smile before calling out to Doofus, “Get these ladies a drink.”

  We each ordered a Red Stone. Trey’s underling popped the tops off the beers and placed them in front of us. I handed him some cash.

  “Just let me know if you ladies need anything else.”

  Detective Stedman stepped up beside me but didn’t look my way.

  “Mr. Tilby, could you spare a minute for me. I’d like to have a word.” After giving Kendra and me the side eye he added, “In private.”

  Trey tried to put on a game face for the lawman, but he couldn’t quite mask his annoyance. “Detective Stedman, can I get you a cold one?”

  “No, I’m good. Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

  “Always happy to oblige the police. Let’s go to my office.” Trey dropped his phone on the back bar and exited at the far end of the bar with Detective Stedman following him around the corner.

  “I wish we could eavesdrop on that conversation,” Kendra said. “Wonder what he wants to talk to Trey about?”

  “Whatever it is, I hope it leads to an arrest. What I’d really like is to get a look at Trey’s cell phone to see if there are any texts between him and Vince.”

  Doofus was loading up a tray with cocktails. As soon as he turned his back to us to deliver the drinks, Kendra flung herself across the bar top and stretched her arm out, just barely able to retrieve the phone from the back bar. She quickly settled back onto her barstool and held Trey’s phone against her thigh, shielded from sight by the bar.

  “Dang. I should’ve figured it’s locked.” She sighed. “Looks like a six-number or letter password. “Maybe Nickel?”

  She punched that in.

  “Nope. Saloon?” she said as she typed. “Nope.”

  Thinking back to my first visit to the saloon, I had a sudden inspiration.

  “Try 36-24-36.”

  “We’re in,” she said with a big smile. “How did you—”

  “Long story. Hurry and check the text messages.”

  “We’re in luck. Vince is one of the regulars in the text section, along with several female names.”

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

  “You scroll through the messages and I’ll take pics of the screen.”

  We were able to quickly get shots of five or six screen’s worth, but Trey’s assistant had made his way back behind the bar, mixing drinks just a few feet away from us.

  “We need to put the phone back where we found it before Trey returns,” I whispered.

  It was a tense few minutes. Fortunately, an impatient customer started waving and calling out to the bartender, who left the bar and walked over to his table.

  “I thought Curt would never leave,” Kendra muttered.

  So Doofus has a name.

  Kendra leaned over and tossed the phone. It skittered across the counter and I feared it was going to slide right off the bar. But it came to a stop in roughly the same spot it had occupied earlier, just as Trey and Detective Stedman emerged from the hallway.

  Kendra and I finished our drinks and left just after the detective, continuing on to the pizza parlor.

  We sat next to each other in a booth and pulled up the text shots I’d taken. They were all texts from Trey to Vince with no replies from Vince.

  Miss Alcorn went my way. Sucks to be you. ha

  “Were they fighting over the same woman?” Kendra asked.

  “Maybe. Hard to imagine any woman choosing Trey, the way he oozes sleaze. Here’s the next text.”

  You owe me. Pay up.

  And the one after that said, Come by tonight or I’ll come for you.

  The server came over and we ordered a large mushroom pizza and two Cokes. Unfortunately, the detective had no intention of letting us eat lunch in peace.

  “How’s your investigation going?” he said as he slid into the booth across from us.

  “How many times do we have to tell you, we’re not investigating the murder,” I said.

  “If you say so. I still want to see what you got off Trey Tilby’s phone.”

  I glanced over to Kendra and we shared a brief “busted” look.

  “The guy I was talking to when you two walked in the bar was an off-duty police officer. Rookie mistake,” he said. The corner of his mouth twitched upward briefly in what I assume passes as a smile for him.

  I brought the text shots up on my phone and passed it to the detective. He pulled the notebook out of his pocket and wordlessly scrolled through as he took notes. He deleted the screen shots before handing the phone back to me.

  “I’m sure you’ll tell the Mayfields about the texts, but please don’t mention them to anyone else—for your own safety. And, a word of advice, Trey Tilby is bad news. Don’t tangle with him.”

  Our pizza arrived just as the detective left. I moved to the other side of the booth, facing Kendra. He’d really taken the wind out of our sails. I could barely work up the energy to suck soda through my straw.

  “I think we had shots of seven texts and we only got a look at three of them before the detective deleted them,” I said.

  “Yeah, it seems unfair. What can we learn from the ones we did see?” Kendra asked.

  “It seems pretty obvious Trey and Vince weren’t getting along. They were fighting over some woman and over money. And Trey was getting impatient,” I said.

  “The detective could’ve been nicer to us. We gave him information he couldn’t have gotten a search warrant for. Wait. That means he can’t even use the information, right?”

  “I don’t think he can use it directly as evidence. Maybe it will point the cops in the right direction—away from Joe. And me. We can hope.

  “Anyway, I think his version of being nice to us was not putting us under arrest. And, Kendra, I thought you showed great restraint not plowing into him about holding Joe in jail overnight.”

  Her eyes flew open wide and her face flushed.

  “I can’t believe it. He had me so flustered I forgot all about Joe,” she said, exhaling her pent-up frustration with a loud sigh. “He lucked out on that one.”

  We quickly finished our lunch. Kendra said she’d left Bart on his own for too long and hurried away up the hill. I turned in the opposite direction and walked down to the gallery to give George and Trudy an update. I felt they deserved one, since George had been nice enough to check on Joe’s status first thing this morning.

  When I
entered Mayfield’s Gallery, Trudy was in her usual spot behind the counter.

  “Hi, hon. How is Kendra?”

  I walked up to the counter and answered softly, “Much better now that Joe’s been released. Are there any customers around?”

  “No, and we’ll hear the bell if someone comes in.”

  “First, I wanted to fill you in on what Kendra heard from Joe.”

  “Hang on a sec. George, come up front, will you? Halley’s here with some news on Joe.”

  George came through from the studio, wiping his hands on a paint-smudged cloth.

  “What’s the news?” he asked.

  I filled them in about the prescription drug, the lame idea that Joe’s sister procured the drug for him and the detective’s keen interest in Joe’s comings and goings on opening night.

  “I remember Joe’s little sister, Jennifer. She was just a sweet-faced teenager when they moved here,” Trudy said. “Have they lost interest in Joe as a suspect?”

  “I hope so, but I’m afraid it could be more that they didn’t have enough to hold him,” I said. “I think the key question is, ‘Who turned in that anonymous tip?’”

  “The killer,” George said, matter-of-factly.

  “Right. But I think another good question is, ‘Why would the killer want to frame Joe Chang?’ and ‘Why now?’” Trudy said.

  “Good points. I had the feeling I was the detective’s favorite suspect. But maybe I flatter myself. It appears something has happened to make the killer nervous, what with them turning in an anonymous tip.”

  “We can hope they’ve gotten careless and the police will catch whoever it is soon. But just in case they don’t, from what little we know, who are our best suspects?” Trudy said.

  “Well, we know Vince had blackmailed Linda and Edgar, and maybe Paula. And Trey was Vince’s pal, and perhaps partner,” I said. “In fact, Kendra and I have some new information on Trey and Vince.”

 

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