Hot Coffee Iced Santa Read online

  Hot Coffee, Iced Santa

  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

  Cover by Alchemy Book Covers

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  Cam Larson's Other Books:

  Roasted Love Cozy Mystery Series!

  A Cup of Murder

  Coconut Chronicles – Almost Tropical Mystery

  Coconut Chronicles: Burglar

  Chapter One

  The holly berries on the door wreath shone under the lamplight at Steven's Steakhouse. I looked down the street to see if Daniel's car was parked nearby. When I spotted it, I went ahead inside. The soft sound of bells rang me in. I looked around and caught sight of Daniel's dark hair. He stood and waved at me as I made my way to the table.

  "This is quite a place, Daniel. I've never been here before."

  "The food is excellent," he said. He beamed like he owned the place. The restaurant was buzzing with diners and everyone seemed to be in a holiday mood. We settled back with menus in hand and talked about our upcoming travels.

  "I think getting back home is always a good thing, Laila," said Daniel. "I can't wait to see my home town again either. When are you heading down south?"

  "In about ten days I'll be leaving for Tennessee."

  "Does it snow there?" Daniel liked to tease me about the south as if it was a foreign country. His home state of Pennsylvania experienced plenty of snow. I couldn't resist a little teasing back on my part.

  "It's not the Bahamas," I said. I let up on him a little and added, "I'd be happy to have a white Christmas. It could happen regardless of what you think." His swift smile created a warm rush through me. "It's good to connect with family, especially during holidays. I'm ready to see my parents again," I said.

  We grew silent as we looked at the menu. I thought of my parents who had relocated from Atlanta a few years ago to the Smokey Mountains. My mother went all out at Christmas.

  "You don't look like you are reading the menu," said Daniel. "What are you thinking about?"

  Daniel's dark eyes seemed to always hold laughter. He was easy to be around but sometimes I had the feeling he read my mind.

  "Just thinking about how my mother gets bent out of shape over gift-giving. She is a little extreme to say the least. She bragged in October that she was finished with her Christmas shopping. And yet, I can bet she will take me around all the little shops in Pigeon Forge for more."

  Daniel lightly slapped his forehead. "Oh no, Christmas shopping. That's something I'd better get busy with. I haven’t bought any gifts at all, yet."

  He glanced past me and smiled. "That's Steven over there. I want to introduce you." He waved the owner of the Steakhouse over.

  It was hard to take my eyes off the tall six foot man who came close to our table. I looked at his haircut. He kept the sides tight and a thick layer of brown hair on top of his head. Deep amber eyes definitely flirted with me. His handsome looks would draw any woman. I had the distinct feeling he was aware of that.

  "Steven Landers meet Laila Rook," said Daniel. "Laila is the Barista at Roasted Love's coffee house." We acknowledged each other. Daniel looked intently at the owner. "You look a little stressed, Steven. Are the holidays getting to you?"

  "Someone broke the electronic lock on the walk-in freezer. When I came in this afternoon, the place looked like someone had been rummaging around, but we didn't see anything missing. It was probably someone looking for liquor. They probably broke the freezer lock trying to get into it." He gave a shrug. "We had to call a service tech to fix it. In the mean time, we're running slow and I had to call on other merchants in the area to buy food to get us through."

  "Do you mean you had a break-in to the restaurant itself?" I asked.

  "For some reason the back door wasn't locked last night. Whoever it was, just walked in. One of my dishwashers was supposed to lock up. I have a repairman back there now on the freezer. I called the company immediately. It took a while, but someone finally got here."

  Steven's face crinkled with a grin. "I didn't mean to ruin your evening. It's my problem and not my diners'." He transformed into the host of his Steakhouse. A couple of customers passed the table and greeted him. When he turned back to us, I mentioned the appeal of his décor.

  "Someone around here has a knack for knowing how to decorate."

  He accepted my compliment and held his eyes on me longer than necessary. "I hope the food satisfies you, too. Enjoy your meal. I have to get back to work. I'll see you around sometime."

  "Did he just wink at me?" I asked Daniel when Steven walked away.

  "Probably, but don't take offense. He flirts with beautiful women all the time."

  Just as I began to comment, the server, whose tag read Cassie, set two hot dinners in front of us. The eye appeal alone was enough to make me want to dig into the grilled rib eye in front of me. Steamed green beans crisscrossed on the side. Steam from the baked potato wafted upward. Daniel cut into his T-bone with a vengeance. I had noticed when we ate out together he went for the main entrée first. The vegetables followed.

  "Hungry, are you?" I asked. He had already forked a bite of the steak.

  He looked sheepish. "Actually, I haven't eaten all day. Sorry I'm such a pig."

  He slowed down when I laughed at him. The company, the food and the festive atmosphere put both of us in a good mood. A large Christmas tree stood regal in the far corner. Christmas music played softly from an antique player-piano. The musical instrument drew a group of diners who were mesmerized with its mechanism. We chatted about family traditions and finished the main course.

  Daniel opened his mouth to say something just as a blood-curling scream reached us from the kitchen area, shattering the mood. For a split second, we stared at each other. Shocked diners grew silent and only "Deck the Halls" could be heard coming from the player piano. Daniel jumped to his feet and headed to the back of the restaurant. I was on his heels. If a Paramedic's services were called for, Steven's Steakhouse was lucky to have Daniel Jenkins there that night. We edged into the main part of the kitchen area.

  The repairman wiped his brow and stood back. Shaking hands failed to keep a grip on the tool he used. It bounced a couple of times when it hit the hard tiled floor. Cassie Johnson, pale and trembling, gaped at the opened freezer door. She was as frozen in space as the heap on the floor. Black Santa boots were fitted under red pant legs. The
wide white fur cuffs were splattered with dots of something dark. My eyes traveled from the cuffs up to a contorted face of an older man. He didn't need extra padding to fill in the Santa suit. His hair was grey and somewhat bushy. A matching fake beard finished the look, except this Santa was very dead.

  "I checked, Daniel. Nothing can be done for him," said Steven. The owner was in the process of dialing 911.

  Daniel put his arm across the front of me. "Stand back, Laila, no need to see this."

  "I already have," I said, stepping forward. "Who is he?"

  Steven heard my question as he ended his call. "He was my dishwasher, Frank Duvall."

  It wasn't long before we heard sirens in the street. A slight screeching sound from wheels swerving to the back entrance told us help had arrived. Daniel went forward and felt for a pulse on the hard body, frozen beyond life. Steven, with questioning eyes, glanced at Daniel.

  "I had to be sure," said the Paramedic.

  We stood aside to let the ambulance crew take over. A cop followed them into the kitchen. I looked behind me. Diners lined up at the kitchen door until Steven told them to please return to their tables. A few were waiting to pay for their meals.

  "Close this place down," said the cop to Steven. "We have a crime scene on our hands.

  The owner left to talk to inquisitive diners. "We will have to close for the night," he told them.

  "What happened?" asked one diner. Her eyes were large and she leaned toward the open kitchen to get a better look. A man behind her craned his neck around her.

  "I don't have information right now. Please, just go back," said Steven. "All of your meals are on the house. We will put food you haven't eaten in carry-out containers."

  He turned to get Cassie's attention to start filling take out containers. She hadn't moved from the spot where I last saw her in the kitchen. I went out and helped Steven until the last customer left.

  Then he secured the front door and turned the front lights off. Neither of us said a word.

  The cop wrote down the names of staff who worked at Steven's Steakhouse. He didn't forget to get my name and Daniel's. While he was doing that, two Detectives joined him. We were told to wait because they had questions.

  "I can't imagine who did this," said Steven. He stood back next to Daniel and me. "He wasn't exactly an all-around nice guy but, murder?" He shook his head. "What a way to start the busiest time of the year in here." Small beads of moisture dotted his forehead.

  Daniel offered sympathy. My mind raced with thoughts. Steven's words when he described Frank Duvall, hung there.

  "Are you saying a not-so-nice guy was playing Santa to kids?" I asked.

  Steven attempted a smile. "He loved kids. His beef was with adults and sometimes he had a short fuse. Frank liked to play Santa. He liked to sit near the Christmas tree for a little while most nights of the week."

  Cassie finally became unglued from her spot. She spun around. I saw her heading for the employee bathroom. I didn't see her again until a Detective questioned her. In between his questions, she ran to the bathroom two more times.

  "It's too bad Cassie saw Frank like that. She was right there when the repairman got the door open," said Steven. "It was a real shock to her."

  "How long has Frank worked here?" asked Daniel. "I don't think I've seen him around the Steakhouse."

  Steven began to pace back and forth. He brushed his hands on his pressed pants several times and loosened his necktie before he answered Daniel. "He has been my dishwasher for a while now, but he is always back here. At least, he was until he asked to play Santa for the kids. We worked it out that he'd do that early in the dinner service since he wouldn't have a lot to do in the kitchen then. I figured the kids would be anxious waiting for the food around that time. He didn't work on weekends but I believe he also played Santa at the mall one of the weekend days."

  Then, as if an afterthought, he added, "He did a good job here. I advertised free Christmas cookies and a visit with Santa. It brought children in along with their parents." Steven wiped his moist hands on his pant legs again. "They sometimes ordered dinners to take home while the children were with Santa or eating the cookies. It helped my business."

  While Steven and Daniel talked, my mind concentrated on the dead Santa, aka Frank Duvall, the dishwasher. I glanced at the black boots again and wondered who had enough against the man to murder him. Sticking him in the freezer ensured preservation and a good hiding place. The killer had thought it all out when he damaged the lock on the outside.

  Standing at various spots in the kitchen were the cops and two Detectives. They talked in low tones and went back to the business of investigation. Cassie fidgeted in the corner by herself. The repairman paced a few feet back and forth until questioned by one cop, who excused him. The three of us stood dumbfounded. Iced Santa lay sprawled where he had been found on the floor of the freezer. The paramedics left and the coroner was the last to arrive.

  I found myself getting mentally involved in the ‘whodunnit' of the murdered Santa.

  Chapter Two

  The first cop to arrive on the scene approached the three of us. He directed his questions first at Daniel. A second policeman pulled Steven aside. The one, whose badge read Officer Dan Stanton, looked at Daniel and me. His cropped red hair shone under the fluorescent light. I noticed light freckles on the backs of his hands and across his nose. He wiped his brow with his sleeve. From everyone's mannerisms, I deducted this was an unusual scene in West River, New York.

  "Are you a regular customer in Steven's Steakhouse?" he asked Daniel.

  "I come in every now and then," said Daniel.

  "Did you know the victim?"

  "No, I had never met him."

  "How well do you know Steven Landers?"

  "We have been good friends since our college days," said Daniel. "We are very good friends."

  Officer Stanton paused and then jotted something down on his notepad. After a few more questions, the interrogator turned to me. His questions to me were similar to the ones he threw at Daniel. I didn't have much information to give him and he seemed satisfied with my answers. When he finished, he verified our addresses and phone numbers once again.

  I noted Cassie had been excused when I saw her rush out the door. I glanced toward Steven. He and the other cop walked toward the corner of the kitchen to a small table. They were a couple of yards from where Daniel and I stood. It was impossible not to hear the conversation.

  "Which employee or employees were last to leave?" asked the cop.

  His name tag read Donald Hayes, Chief of Police. His slightly overweight frame eased onto the straight back chair. He ran his hand through short brown hair.

  "Frank was the last one here," said Steven. "He was finishing up when I left. He always finishes cleaning the kitchen on his days here, and then he locks up."

  "So you are telling me he was alone?"

  "He was when I left," said Steven. "Obviously, someone came in later."

  Chief Hayes then asked Steven if Frank had relatives in the area.

  "I don't know if he does or not. He never talked about family that I know of. I remember once he mentioned learning to snowshoe in Minnesota. I don't know if that was where he was from or not. He could have relatives there, I guess. He was closed mouthed about personal things."

  The Chief leaned in. "Why would a dishwasher work back here while wearing a Santa suit?"

  Steven explained Frank's role with the children as he had told us.

  "Let me understand. You are telling me he finished with the kids at 6:30 p.m. and worked as a dishwasher in his Santa garb the rest of the night?"

  Chief Hayes almost scoffed aloud. Clearly, he thought Steven was easy prey.

  "He went out on the street to hand out candy for thirty minutes or so before going back to work," said Steven. "I allowed him to do that because it helped my business. After that, he came back in and worked."

  "That doesn't answer why he didn't change into his
regular clothes after that. Doesn't it strike you as just a little odd that he worked with that bulky suit on?"

  "He did change. When I saw him last, he was in his regular clothes. I remember seeing his Santa stuff hanging on that hook right over there."

  Steven pointed to three large hooks that held aprons. There was no Santa suit there. Instead, it was on the still figure in the freezer. Chief Hayes grew silent. I could almost hear his brain revolving around Steven's words like a windmill whirling.

  "What kind of security do you have here?" he asked.

  Steven explained his security system. It was more elaborate than I imagined, and very efficient. The Officer commented that whoever came in after hours must have known the system's operational mode. "Where did you go once you left here?"

  "I went home." Anticipating the next question, Steven added, "I was alone and no one can vouch for me. I can tell you that I headed to bed early. The holidays bring in more customers and I was bushed."

  When Chief Donald Hayes stood to leave, he reminded Steven to remain in town. He told him he may need to answer more questions as the investigation went forward. Steven rejoined us.

  "I guess it's only natural they would suspect me. Who else could have gotten back in here after hours?" He paused and then said, "I have no idea why Frank would have been here with that Santa suit on again." I followed his gaze in the direction of the open freezer door.

  Another two hours passed before they allowed the body to be removed. Even though he was now in a body bag, I could still see his face in my head. The petrified look told me his last emotions were a mixture of anger and fear. I wondered if he was dead before, or after, he landed in the freezer. The cops stuck around to continue investigating the crime scene.

  One of the Detectives came toward us. He told Steven they needed to take him down to the station to make and sign a statement. Daniel looked helpless when they led his best friend away.