A Cup of Murder Read online

  A Cup of Murder

  A Roasted Love Cozy Mystery

  by

  Cam Larson

  www.EscapeInk.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.

  Copyright © 2014 EscapeInk.com.

  All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.

  Version 2015.01.12

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  Cam Larson's Other Books:

  Roasted Love Cozy Mystery Series!

  Hot Coffee, Iced Santa

  Coconut Chronicles – Almost Tropical Mystery

  Coconut Chronicles: Burglar

  Coming Soon...

  Coconut Chronicles: Ransom

  Chapter One

  I didn't realize I was zoning out until I spilled the latte I was pushing toward a customer. Staring out the window of Roasted Love, I was focused on the rival coffee shop across the street that just opened recently. The man who opened the Sunrise Coffee Shop door turned and caught my eye. He glared at me where I stood. I tried to convince myself it was his striking blond hair and his slim build that drew my eyes to him. But in reality, it was more likely his arrogant manner, much less appealing, that had a way of drawing me to our number one enemy. He had a massive Doberman beside him that seemed to exhibit the same attitude. I looked away quickly when I caught the dog's ferocious look that displayed sharp teeth. He and his master fit well together.

  Jacob Weaver, my boss, noticed my fixation on the rival coffee house across the street. I jumped when I heard his fist slam the counter. “The nerve of that Simms guy,” he said loudly. “He’s taking our customers away from us. Chains like Sunrise serve mediocre coffee at best and yet he is a thief who thinks his good looks are all it takes to run me out of business.”

  He slammed his knuckles against the counter once again. The few customers in Roasted Love Coffee House glanced at the owner with trepidation. Two of them looked across the street at the pretentious sign flashing ‘Sunrise’ and I didn’t miss their looks of yearning. I quickly pulled Jacob back to the kitchen. The fact he had served time for assault eleven years ago was a well-known fact around West River, New York. Deep down I knew some day his temper would cause that fact to come back to haunt him. This day was one of those rare moments I came close to understanding how a burst of anger must have caused the past assault charge.

  “I can’t help it, Laila,” said Jacob. “We’ve got to do something about that man. He’s not only ruining my business on purpose but did you see the gaudy look to that shop? He’s making a mockery of the architecture on this street.”

  I knew the architecture didn’t concern Jacob as much as his nemesis but I did see how Sunrise stood out. The rest of the shops along the Piazza strip sported the looks of Italy, held over from early Italian immigrants who built their businesses along the way. In recent years neighborhood revitalization entered and now held a mix of varied nationalities. A younger set added to the population and put life back into the area. One thing that drew me to want a job at Roasted Love was its unique décor. The coffee shop’s artistic appeal invited everyone to sit at leisure and enjoy the variety of coffee flavors along with the environment.

  Jacob believed in supporting local artists and their works. They often hosted their work at the shop and that drew in customers quite well. The handcrafted ceramic coffee mugs and matching dishes added to the overall feel of welcome. It had always been a place that brought friends and strangers together. If a customer didn’t know someone he or she sat down with, by the time they left they were friends. Jacob encouraged everyone to get to know each other by choosing a chair rather than their own table.

  Sunrise certainly drew attention with its irregularly shaped sign that hung over the door. The windows were splashed with caricatures of people sipping various flavors of beverages. The whole outside appearance of Sunrise was definitely in contrast to the rest of the businesses around it, but I kind of liked it. I kept that opinion to myself and vowed to never let it slip out of my mouth to anyone, especially to the owner of Roasted Love.

  “I mean it, Laila, he has to go,” said my boss. “He doesn’t understand soul when it comes to running businesses in this neighborhood. He will never fit in.”

  His face morphed into a deeper shade of red if that was possible. I wondered where he kept his blood pressure pills, but I had to calm him down first. I sighed and took a quick look at my watch. It was no wonder I couldn’t get dates. By the time I slaved in this coffee house and made it home, dead on my feet, no one would want to take a second look at me. Feeling sorry for myself crept in at times like this when the clock ticked past my shift. I swung back to the matter at hand and gave a rueful smile toward the man I couldn’t help but love. His balding head glistened with moisture.

  I brushed loose strands of long russet hair from my face that threatened to destroy the ponytail that I meticulously swept together that morning. I recalled the day Jacob gave me this job. I had no experience but he told me later it was something about my long flowing hair that he deemed/accented the color of coffee that made him hire me. At the time I didn’t think that was a valid reason but whatever it took, something landed me the job I wanted. I learned quickly and rose to Barista at Roasted Love. At times like this, sympathy for the thirty-eight year old man stole a piece of me. As aggressive as his temper could rise up, the same held true for his flashes of warmth. Until Michael Simms appeared on the Piazza, Jacob’s teddy bear character was more his norm.

  “Just calm down, Jacob,” I said. “Sunrise will become a coffee house that people will tire of and come back to you. It’s only a novelty for the neighborhood now. You own this shop. His is a franchise like so many others that will never rise to our standards here when it comes to coffee.”

  Where that assurance came from I had no idea. The fact was Michael Simms projected enough innovative ideas of how coffee could taste, that it would take a while before his place reached the ho-hum stage. Not only did he have ideas, but he and his Barista, Jen Perry knew how to turn dreams into reality. A handful of my regulars, though, told me that for all the varied flavors Sunrise offered, none compared to Roasted Love’s coffee. I hoped others felt that way and those we were losing would soon drift back. I noted more male customers flocked to Sunrise which had a lot to do with twenty-two year old Jen’s appearance. Her sandy brown hair had a way of flipping when she quickly turned to greet customers with her penetrating hazel eyes. Her curves didn’t hurt any either. Michael Simms knew what he was doing.

  “You need to get home, Laila,” said Jacob. He realized my day had ended at least thirty minutes earlier. “I’m sorry I kept you late.”

  “All right, Jacob, but please calm down.
”

  I reminded my boss to hold his temper, especially when customers were in the coffee house. I knew Michael Simms wasn’t the only vendor on the block running our clientele from Roasted Love to Sunrise coffee house. Some of our customers were beginning to look at Jacob in a different way. There were times I was convinced that a certain doubt and fear crossed their faces. Jacob had done a stint in jail, and it came to mind quickly when he lashed out in anger. His outbursts occurred more than just on occasion, and they all had to do with his competition across the street.

  “You shouldn’t be spouting off like that around customers,” I said. “It’s all right if you want to do that with me, but just remember it will hurt more than help if you let everyone within blocks hear you.”

  Speaking like this was something I chalked up to my long day. He gave me a lopsided grin and nodded his agreement. “I mean it, Jacob. Our patrons are picking up on your anger and if you don’t watch it, your attitude will cause more of them to go across the street.”

  I peeled my apron off and pitched it into the laundry basket at the other end of the kitchen. I let my hair down from the ponytail and re-applied light make-up. This latter was habit in case I met someone significant on my way home. So far, that hadn’t happened, but I could be as tenacious as the next person. Strolling through Roasted Love, I headed for the front door before I remembered I had left my cell phone on the counter in back when talking with Jacob. He caught me and sheepishly handed it to me. The teddy bear had returned.

  “Don’t worry, Laila, I’ll watch myself. I never mind competition but I just wish it hadn’t been Michael Simms who moved in across from me. He has been out to get me from day one.”

  Jacob followed me to the front of the shop when suddenly, like a sudden storm on the horizon, his face reddened again and the fire returned to his eyes that now focused away from me. My gaze landed on our opponent. Michael Simms swaggered back out his door and stood with his back to Roasted Love observing his painted windows. There was no room for any more of his art work that I could see. His superior manner told me he was simply admiring the display and on purpose, flaunted his egotistical demeanor for us to observe. This tactic worked his purpose well on Jacob Weaver.

  “I’m going over there right now and tell him to get out of this neighborhood before it is too late,” said Jacob.

  I grabbed his arm and dodged to avoid his reaction. This time it was aimed at me and I stopped him in time to sidestep his blow. I stood there and gaped at Jacob as if the man in front of me was someone I had never met before. The last of the customers scurried out of the coffee house. I glared at Jacob with flashing eyes.

  “You just emptied your own coffee house of what is left of faithful clients,” I said.

  This time he chose to ignore me. His rage simmered before he turned and I believe he muttered an apology. At least that’s what I thought he said as he stalked back to the kitchen. I threw my hands in the air and slammed the door behind me on my way out. As much as I wanted to remain faithful to Roasted Love’s owner right now, that feat was dormant, in fact, it was hidden deep enough within me that I thought it no longer existed which scared me.

  Mumbling to myself, I fumbled in my purse for my car keys as I stepped outside. My hands shook and I dropped the keys on the sidewalk. In an instant a menacing growl was at my heels. Impossible to get into my car now, I raced around the corner of Roasted Love and managed to jump on top of the dumpster while the huge black Doberman bared his teeth at me and stood his ground.

  “Back off, Thor,” said a voice. A low chuckle escaped the man. “Don’t tell me you are afraid of a dog.”

  The sneer on his face and the taunting he pointed in my direction was equal to, if not more sinister than the attack dog who reluctantly backed away. Short gasps of air escaped from my throat as I attempted to regain my composure. Deep grey eyes penetrated mine. They were similar to a foggy day when it was hard to find ones way; in this case, unreadable. I shuddered. All of my reactions took split seconds to swerve around throughout my body. The question of ‘what was wrong with this man anyway’ seared my mind. He and his dog had some serious anger issues. I wondered if Michael Simms ever showed that side to Jen. I ignored the image of her fluttering eyelashes.

  “Why don’t you leash this monster or don’t you know there are leash laws here?” I could be as snippy as anyone when I chose. This man in particular managed to bring out the worse in me.

  “I advise you to quit Roasted Love,” he said, ignoring my question. So yet another trait of his disagreeable nature showed itself. “That place is on the road to closing down. You surely don’t want to be left with a bankrupted business on your resume, do you? You are the Barista, aren’t you?”

  I sputtered trying to come up with a retort that would tear all the way down to his soul. When I finally came up with the perfect answer he had already turned on his heels, summoned Thor the monster and strode away. I immediately forgot what that perfect reply was going to be. Sweat that had been held in check rolled down between my shoulders and my palms slipped when I slid off the dumpster.

  “We’ll see who bankrupts first. You don’t deserve to be in this otherwise peaceful neighborhood, Michael Simms. I hope that the worst thing that can happen to you will happen.” I knew he was out of earshot, but it helped to get it said.

  I continued to mutter threats to the owner of Sunrise under my breath while I picked up my keys and opened my car. I slumped in the seat and took deep breaths. Glad I had driven to work that morning rather than my usual walk, I started the ignition. I had wanted to run needed errands but lost interest in that soon enough. I was glad I wasn’t going to be walking home after that episode. I would have been too rattled while wondering if they followed me, all set for a second scare. I chortled nervously. The man and his dog were out of sight but not out of mind.

  Chapter Two

  Thoughts of Jacob’s outburst earlier flooded over me. He had never showed anger like that in all the time I had known him. He certainly had never come even close to hitting me. His rival was to blame for bringing forth such wrath in Jacob Weaver. My boss harbored anger deeper than I had ever seen in any man. I was at a loss as to how Jacob allowed the owner of Sunrise to get to him. He neglected his own business now that the seething inside him mounted on a daily basis. Jacob was losing sight of the quality business he had built over the years and that would do him in, not Michael Simms.

  Clearing traffic, I pulled from the curb. Neither the owner of Sunrise, nor his Barista Jen Perry, was in sight which was fine with me. It was time to get home and forget the nightmarish day. I loved my job but maybe I had outlived it all and should search for something else. Something told me now was not the time to toy with ideas like that. Besides, I had rent and utilities to think about. The day I found my cute little bungalow was my lucky day. I had overheard someone in the coffee house saying they had a rental available and I pounced on it. It was small but I loved it. Best of all, I could afford it.

  When I reached my driveway, I was still a bit unsettled. I needed a distraction. I called my best friend Sara and ask how her day had gone. My longtime friend’s voice never failed to soothe me. I didn’t tell her about mine except the incident with the dog attack. I felt somewhat better once I heard Sara’s story of the oddities of a new employee she worked with at the bookstore several blocks down on the Piazza. I hung up slightly recovered and was ready to go relax a bit with a light dinner and a book.

  An uneasy feeling overtook me when I put the key in my front door lock. I glanced around and everything looked as normal as usual. I vowed to calm down. My neighbor, Ed from next door waved when I caught his eye. He was retired and now spent most of his time making his yard a showplace with blooming flowers and greenery in just the right places for all of us to admire. If my tulips came up in the spring I was happy with my yard but the more he worked at his, the more meager mine looked. At least I had chosen a neighborhood with friendly people. All the houses were similar to my smal
l bungalow but none looked identical to any of the others. Hues of varied colors gave each a special identity of its own.

  I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder once again before I swung my door open. I had no known enemies, unless I now counted Michael Simms and Thor. As unsettling as my experience was, I strongly doubted they had followed me home. Allowing my scare to cause paranoia was not something I planned to let happen. I dropped my purse on the small cherry table inside my bedroom and then deposited an empty latte paper cup in the trash and sat down. I was certain my jumpiness had to do with the scare Thor the monster gave me, and his master’s response was hard to shake from my head. But Jacob’s actions bothered me even more. Deep breaths came in handy at times like this.

  While cutting vegetables for a salad and seasoning the pork chop for searing, I realized I wasn't going to shake off the events of the day. I finally accepted that and directed thoughts down a more productive avenue. I knew a detailed plan to retrieve Roasted Love’s business was imperative and had to be done sooner than later. It would prove no easy task unless I could persuade Jacob to curtail his temper and focus on our customers and their satisfaction. He had to be made to realize he was driving customers away ever since Sunrise opened a month earlier. Losing the rest of our clientele would only prove Michael Simms right. That was not an option.

  I took my food out to the bricked patio with a glass of fruit-infused sparkling water to complete the meal. I savored my food and watched two birds at the cherub-shaped fountain a few yards away. The fountain had been here since before I moved in. I liked watching the birds tease each other when they splashed in the water. Ground cover surrounded the cherubs and a large red maple towered over the scene. The birds seemed to be arguing or was that my imagination? I shook my head and breathed in the refreshingly cool evening air. I had no intentions of watching anyone else get mad at anyone and especially two birds that should have been, in my estimation chirping happily and getting along.