Cappuccinos, Cupcakes, and a Corpse

by Harper Lin

  “Half the men in town go there now. Not because they prefer it to my dad’s place but because he banned them. If somebody said they didn’t like their haircut, banned. If they complained about having to wait, banned. If they didn’t tip enough, banned. Half the time, they didn’t even know until they showed up for their next haircut and he started waving his comb at them, telling them to get out and they weren’t welcome. I think some of the guys don’t even know why they were banned.” He chuckled. “You know, I think one time he actually kicked out the wrong guy. It was the guy’s brother or something. He kicked him out then realized later it was the wrong guy, but he’d never admit he was wrong about something like that, so both brothers were banned.”

  “That’s pretty hardcore,” I said.

  “Yeah, Dad didn’t back down.” His face lit up, and he leaned across the table toward me. His eyes were sparkling. “One time, and I shouldn’t laugh about this, but”—he laughed—“right in the middle of his haircut, some guy said something bad about the Sox—this was back before they’d won the World Series—he said something about they sucked and they’d never win and the Yankees were so much better. Dad just took his clippers and shaved right down the middle of the guy’s head. I guess he wasn’t looking in the mirror, so Dad kept going and shaved the guy’s whole damn head before he realized what was going on. Oh my God, the guy stormed out, swearing at my dad. When Dad came home and told me about it, he didn’t even care that the guy didn’t pay—he was just so happy about shaving his head.”

  I giggled as I pictured the scene. My grandparents had emphasized customer service, so I couldn’t imagine treating a customer like that, but it was funny to think about. I was enjoying the story so much I almost forgot that I was supposed to be looking for suspects. “Was there anybody your dad had been feuding with recently?”

  Matty leaned back again and crossed his arms thoughtfully. I took a drink of my coffee while I waited.

  Finally he sighed. “He’d been complaining a lot about the cell phone store across the street from the shop. He thought the signs in the windows were tacky and the guy who runs it was a jerk. He really hated when they had somebody out front dancing around in one of those giant squishy cell phone costumes.” Matty chuckled. “That drove him nuts. I remember him yelling that you didn’t see him having someone dress up as a giant pair of scissors and dance around outside the barbershop. ‘If you need someone to dance around dressed up like what you sell, you must not be a very good salesman!’”

  “Do you know if they ever spoke? Or did your dad just complain about him?” I asked.

  “Oh, they had words,” Matty replied. “You think my dad would pass up that opportunity? I know Dad went in there at least once because he was telling me about the cheesy cell phone cases the guy was selling. It annoyed the hell out of Dad for some reason. I mean, he didn’t need to go in there and look at them. He didn’t even have a cell phone that one of those cases would fit. I guess the guy just got under his skin for some reason. Dad yelled at him plenty from across the street, and the guy yelled back. I’ve seen him out there a couple times. He doesn’t seem like the nicest guy anyway. Kind of a jerk. Really arrogant. I’m not surprised Dad couldn’t stand him.”

  “Was it personal?”

  Matty scoffed. “Everything was personal with Dad.”

  “Do you think it was personal for the other guy?”

  He shrugged. “Hard to know. I mean, like I said, he seems like a jerk, but I kind of think he was just playing with Dad, antagonizing him because it was fun for him to see Dad get so angry. I don’t know if he actually disliked Dad though. Especially enough to kill him.” He stopped and drummed his fingers on the table. “Of course, until we got that autopsy report, I didn’t think anyone disliked Dad enough to kill him.” He took a deep breath. “But can you imagine being mad enough about getting blacklisted from a barbershop to kill somebody? What else could it have been? It’s not like it was random.”

  “Well, I guess Cell Phone Guy is a place to start,” I said. “Your dad didn’t keep a list of who he banned, did he?”

  Matty laughed. “With my dad’s memory for imaginary offenses, he didn’t need to keep a list. I swear he could remember—in detail!—people who pissed him off before I was born. He once told me a story about a guy who cut him off in traffic in 1976!”

  “So I’ll start with Cell Phone Guy and work my way back. Did he happen to give you the name and contact information of the guy from 1976?”

  Matty grinned. “No, but if that guy came back to kill him after all these years, he even beats my dad at holding a grudge!”

  I laughed with Matty. I certainly hoped for the sake of everyone involved that neither the police nor I had to go that far back through Mr. Cardosi’s history to find out who killed him.

  “So you have any more questions?” Matty asked after we stopped laughing.

  I thought back over my notes from the night before. For some reason, I hadn’t thought to bring my notepad with me. I’d either have to go home to get it before I went to talk to Cell Phone Guy or run by the drugstore and pick up a new one. A new one would probably be good. The one at home was a giant yellow legal pad—not very subtle for toting around town.

  “I don’t think so,” I said, unable to think of anything else I needed to ask him.

  He glanced at the clock on the wall and groaned. “Looks like I have to get going anyway. Thank you for breakfast.”

  “No problem at all,” I replied. “Someone’s got to eat all this stuff.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that,” Matty said, patting his stomach. “You know your baking is out of this world.”

  I waved dismissively even though I knew my baking really was good. A little humility never hurt anyone. Matty stood to leave, and I was surprisingly sad that he had to go. I knew we couldn’t linger here all day, but I enjoyed talking to him and wasn’t quite ready for it to end. I stood and gave him a hug. A piece of his hair fell down over his forehead, and I reflexively pushed it back before realizing that that was something of an intimate gesture. Matty didn’t seem to notice or mind though.

  “Guess I need to see about getting that cut, huh?” he said, sounding a little sad. “I’ll probably be joining everyone from my dad’s blacklist down the street.”

  “The barbershop’s still open though, isn’t it?” I asked. Mr. Cardosi had two part-time barbers who worked with him, old-timers like him, and they’d been working since his death. As far as I knew, Matty didn’t have any plans to close the shop, at least not until his dad’s estate was fully settled and he knew what he was dealing with.

  “Yeah, but Dad’s the only one who ever cut my hair, and I don’t think I could stand going in there and having someone else do it. It’ll be weird enough going to a stranger, but I think it’ll be easier.”

  I nodded sympathetically. I knew from experience that every day brought new reminders of a parent’s passing, and in the most unexpected of places.

  “Anyway,” Matty said, shaking his head and shaking that piece of hair back onto his forehead. This time he shoved it back. “Anyway, I’ve got to get going if I’m going to make it to work on time.”

  We said good-bye, and he left, waving at me before he let the door close behind him. I gathered up our dishes and took them to the backroom to be washed.

  “You guys have a nice chat?” Sammy asked.

  “Yup,” I said, not really feeling the need to elaborate.

  “He doing okay?”

  I looked at her. She looked as though she was back to regular good-hearted, compassionate Sammy instead of the gossipy Sammy from earlier.

  “Yeah, he’s doing okay,” I said.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  I was a little surprised, and it must have shown on my face.

  “It’s just—with you losing your mom so recently and all, and then finding Mr. Cardosi’s body, and you being so close to Matt—” She shrugged. “I just wanted to make s
ure you’re doing okay. I don’t ask enough. Some days coffee is all we talk about.”

  I stared at her for a minute then pulled her into a hug. I was actually moved by her concern for me. “Thank you.”

  Sammy rubbed my back vigorously. “That’s what friends are for.”

  Friends. Somehow I hadn’t actually thought of Sammy as my friend until that moment. She was my mom’s friend if anything, but mostly just a coworker. But Sammy really had been there for me as a friend since I’d been back in town. Everything she’d done to help me get back into the swing of things at the café and to get everything for my mother in order had been the actions of a friend, not just a coworker or an employee. I hugged her a little tighter before we let go.

  “Well, thank you for being my friend,” I said.

  Her big blue eyes smiled back at me. “I’m happy to do it. So are you going back home or are you sticking around for a while? I’m sure you can find something to do around here, but Becky and I have everything nailed down on our own if you want to go home and get a nap or something. I know this is still early for you.” She grinned. My night-owl habits were no secret to her.

  I looked around the café, which was still mostly empty. I knew the drugstore wouldn’t open for at least a half hour yet and the cell phone shop would be closed for an hour or two after that, so I had some time to kill. It didn’t look as though my coffee-making skills would be in much demand for the next little while. I had plenty to think about after my late night and my talk with Matty, though, so it might be good for me to get out of my home-and-café rut and go do something else for a little while.

  “You know what?” I said to Sammy with a gleam in my eye. “I think I might go for a little walk on the beach.”

  Sammy smiled. I knew she was happy to hear that I was doing something for myself for a change. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

  Chapter 8

  The morning was still cool as I stepped out of the café and headed toward the beach. I breathed the salt air deep into my lungs. Even though I’d grown up there and preferred to take my vacations in the mountains, far away from the seaside, I understood why people came. There was something restorative about the sea breezes. Standing at the edge of the world, the water swirling around your feet and inching you deeper into the sand, while staring off at the expanse of the ocean is grounding. Some people said it made them feel small, but it didn’t do that for me. It made me feel a part of something big.

  I pulled the legs of my jeans up toward my knee. One advantage of the skin-tight cigarette-style jeans that were in style was that they had a lot of stretch. I kicked off my shoes and carried them as I crossed the dune and stepped onto the sand. I smiled at the feeling of fine grains between my toes. I couldn’t believe I’d been home for so long and hadn’t come down to the beach.

  I walked to the water’s edge and let the waves wash over my feet. They were cold, but I held my ground. The water was always cold there—not like some of the beaches farther south that my college friends had visited for spring break. Those had always felt like bathwater to me.

  I pulled my feet out of the sand and walked a little farther so that the water came up around my calves when the waves came in. I was one of the few people out there at that in-between hour. The people who came out to watch the sunrise had gone home, and the families wanting to play on the beach wouldn’t be out for a while yet. It was just me, some seashell searchers, and a few fishermen reclining on chairs, their lines cast deep into the water. It was the most peaceful I’d felt in a long time.

  I stood in the water for a while until the incoming tide threatened to soak my pants. I walked back a few yards and sat in the sand. I could always brush off my pants later or, if that proved too difficult, walk home and change. I watched the ocean change colors as the sun inched up in the sky. When the first tourists appeared on the beach, the family patriarchs weighed down with beach chairs and coolers and umbrellas and sand toys and more beach paraphernalia that I didn’t know how they managed to carry, I decided it was time to head back to town and my investigation.

  I made my way up off the beach and rinsed my feet at the spigot on the other side of the dune. When I felt as though I was sufficiently de-beached, I pulled the legs of my jeans back down and slid my shoes back on my feet. I walked up to the drugstore to get a less obtrusive notebook. I found a little spiral-bound one like Mike’s. I figured if it was small and portable enough for him, it was small and portable enough for me. I picked up a two-pack of pens too. Purchases in hand, I headed back out on the street. I checked the time. The cell phone shop was probably open, so I walked up in that direction. When I came to the block where the barbershop and the cell phone store were, I stopped and stood at the corner for a few minutes.

  Matty and Mr. Cardosi were right—the signs on the front of the store were incredibly tacky. They were bright yellow and red, with giant print and lots of exclamation points. “Cell Phone Accessories!!!” they screamed. “Lowest prices in town!!!!!” “Styles You Can’t Find Anywhere Else!!!!” It was pretty obnoxious.

  I decided to pretend I was in the market for a new cell phone case. I figured it was better not to start asking questions right away. Let him think I was just some random person coming in to look around and chit-chat a bit.

  I walked down the street slowly, looking in all the shops as though I was just out doing some window shopping. I got up to the barbershop then looked across the street at the cell phone store. I made a beeline across the street, thinking that if anyone saw me, they’d assume I just really wanted a new cell phone case. I pushed open the door to the sound of a loud, annoying electronic jangle. Rock music played over the speaker system. Not exactly what I thought of when I thought about customer-friendly music, but if it worked for them, who was I to judge?

  “I’ll be out in a sec!” a voice called from the back.

  I looked around at the displays. I had to hand it to Mr. Cardosi—he hadn’t been wrong. A lot of the cases were pretty tacky. They looked like something only a teenager would buy. And a teenager with poor taste at that.

  “What’s up?” the owner of the voice said as he emerged from the back.

  What’s up? Who greets a customer with “What’s up?” But instead of asking him what was wrong with him, I turned toward him with a smile. “Hi!”

  When he actually looked at me, he grinned. “Well, hello there! Haven’t seen you around here before!”

  I shrugged. “Kinda new in town.” That wasn’t really a lie. I had only come back recently.

  “Oh well, let me be the first to welcome you,” he said, strolling up to me.

  “I’m not that new.” If he thought I’d just gotten there that week, my plan wouldn’t work.

  “One of the first then.” He smirked.

  I put on the most genuine smile I could. “Well, thank you.”

  He stepped around me and leaned against the display so he was looking at me straight on. He gave off a major sleazy salesman vibe while at the same time being completely unprofessional. His blond hair was slicked back with way more gel than was necessary, and he had a permanent smirk. His teeth were way too white in his darkly tanned face, and his clothes screamed former prep school boy.

  “So where’d you move here from…” He implicitly invited me to give him my name.

  “Francesca. And New York. I moved here from New York.” I extended my hand to shake.

  “Well, hello, Francesca,” he said, taking my hand. His hand was clammy, and he held on much longer than he needed to.

  After what I felt was a sufficiently polite amount of time, I withdrew my hand and tried to subtly wipe his sweat off on my jeans.

  “I’m Chris. Chris Tompson. New York, eh?” he went on. “What brought you to sleepy Cape Bay from the big city?”

  I tried to think fast. If I didn’t tell him I ran Antonia’s and he found out later, he’d know I’d been playing him. But if I told him, he might figure out that I wasn’t all that new in town. Best
to just sidestep the issue and hope it didn’t come back to bite me. Once I got the information I needed, it wouldn’t much matter if he knew I’d stretched the truth.

  “Slower pace of life.” I smiled. “You know, New York is so busy and hectic. I just wanted to be able to kick back and relax a little. Not stress so much. You hear so many stories about people who work hard their whole lives and by the time they finally get to retire, they’re too old to appreciate it. So I thought I’d go ahead and enjoy the good life while I could!” That might have been a longer speech than I really needed to make, but my new buddy Chris didn’t seem to notice.

  “Well, we’re definitely glad to have you. Are you liking it so far?”

  “Yeah!” I nodded. “It’s really cute here!”

  “Great! That’s great! How’s your cell phone working here? You know, different phones work differently in different areas. A lot of people think they need a new carrier when they go to a new area, but sometimes all it takes is a new phone. Then you don’t have to worry about a new billing system or anything. I have some right over here if you want to take a look. I sell phones for all the major carriers, and I can get you set up right here, right now if you want.”

  He led me over to the display case under the register. He had about three mid-range phones for each carrier, and not even the phone most people would actually want.

  “I don’t know,” I said reluctantly. “My phone works pretty well. I think I just want a new case for it.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. It had an understated black case that blended in with the phone. It suited me and my style, but for the sake of my investigation, I would get one of the monstrosities Chris was peddling.

  He took the phone from my hand and turned it back and forth. He looked almost as disgusted by my black case as I was by his multi-colored ones. “A case like this does not suit a pretty girl like you. Let me show you some that you’ll like better.”

  That I’ll like better? I scoffed to myself. Because I didn’t pick that one out in the first place or anything. But I smiled. “Sure!”