A Cup of Murder Page 3

  She took a deep breath. “Without warning he lashed out at me as if I meant nothing to him. We ended up having a huge argument. It was just about closing time but he told me to stay open another two hours.”

  “Why would he ask you to stay open past the usual hours?” I asked. Now curiosity replaced envy. I had yet to figure out why she was confiding in me.

  “He told me it was a way to snatch customers from his rival across the street. He meant, of course, Roasted Love. But I believe he signaled me out because he didn’t like that I was correcting him on his behavior toward you. Besides, he was getting cold toward me for the past few days. That dog is a monster as you found out. Michael had no right to let him run where he wanted.”

  “Was that dog always unleashed?” I asked as a way to encourage her to say more.

  “He leashed Thor during the day when Sunrise was open but in the early morning and late afternoon he let him run. The dog stayed close to the coffee house and didn’t go more than a block away. He didn’t run up and down the street.”

  Had she had one harsh argument with her boss or was that one of many? Thoughts of rumors that Michael was married didn’t push away the idea that he and his Barista were more deeply entwined than in a mere business relationship. I wanted to get back to the angry conversation between Michael and Jen the night before but I had a more important question for her. She had veered onto the subject of Michael’s dog.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I don’t know many people around here. You seem like someone decent. If the cops ask you for information, I just need someone to stand up for me. Our voices got loud so I’m sure customers overheard our argument from the back room. The worst of it all is that I told him in no uncertain terms that someone would get rid of him unless he changed his ways in the neighborhood. I meant someone would eventually run him out of business, not kill him.”

  She sniffed and dabbed her eyes. Not sure of her explanation, I had to hand it to her that she stood up for me against Michael. I suspected she had an ulterior motive. We didn’t know each other well enough for me to vouch for her character and possible motives for killing her boss. I told her as much but promised her I would let them know only what I had observed of her from a distance. That seemed to satisfy her but I felt she wanted much more from me. There was something about her that rang false. She didn’t move to leave.

  “Were you and Michael Simms having an affair?” I asked.

  Her eyes filled with tears again. “Yes, we were, but he told me he wanted to go back to his wife and try to make his marriage work.”

  Her eyes were downcast and she couldn’t bring herself to look me in the eye. It wasn’t as if the news surprised me. I mean about Jen and Michael having an affair; what other reason was there for the obvious signs I observed from a distance, especially the looks and touches they openly exchanged.

  I promised nothing more than what she understood already. When I returned to my job inside, Jacob had settled down somewhat and was in the office working with the spreadsheet on his computer. I waved to him and gave a weak smile in his direction. Apparently, no one had questioned him yet, but I felt sure they would before the day ended.

  Janie met me at the door to the kitchen, “Is Jacob doing alright?”

  “I think so. Hard to tell for sure.” I told her.

  “O.K. It's past my time to clock out. Time got away from me. Sorry about that.” she said as she headed toward the time clock. It was now two p.m.

  “I have to ask you, Laila, should we worry that Jacob had anything to do with Michael Simm’s death?”

  I pulled her aside to be out of earshot of Jacob. “I just can't believe that Jacob had anything to do with it,” I reassured her, not sure I believed it myself. It's true he disliked the man intensely, but that doesn't mean he murdered him, right?

  “Please don't talk about this with anyone. I want to make sure we don't start any rumors and put Jacob or Roasted Love in a worse situation,” I cautioned her with severity. Janie had worked here a little over a year. She needed this job. She had a two-year old daughter she had to support. Besides, she was good at her job; efficient and friendly. I felt I could trust her but I noted the doubt in her eyes about Jacob Weaver.

  “I know he was in prison for assault,” she said.

  “I know, but that was also eleven years ago and he has had a clean slate ever since then. That’s the part to remember.”

  I locked eyes with her and, satisfied she would be discreet, I told her to go ahead and clock out. Lily was serving delicate crust-less sandwiches and salads to a few customers. I had suggested that to Jacob and it proved to be an added touch for afternoons to draw more people in. We recently added light food to an evening menu. It was a successful move on our part and afternoons rarely lagged without someone in the coffee shop. This was before Michael Simms opened his business across from Roasted Love. Lately, the scarcity of numbers was evident but enough still came for that afternoon break.

  In response, Sunrise had added a small book corner to one side with tables for two scattered around so avid readers could enjoy exotic coffee flavors while perusing books at the same time. The competition was fierce between the two shops. Unfortunately, most people noticed the personal rivalry between the two owners, rather than innovations. Sometimes I thought that rivalry alone drew them and caused sides to be taken.

  A customer entered the shop. I recognized him as a politician whose face was plastered around town just before the last election. At the moment I couldn’t think of his name. I knew he belonged to a party I didn’t follow and that he had won with a landslide. I should be ashamed that I'm not more politically active. Lily waited on him and he ordered an espresso. I carefully prepared it and added the steamed milk. I put it on the counter for Lily and she picked it up and brought it to the man. He thanked her with an absent nod and sipped slowly while he kept his eyes on the yellow tape across the street. After about fifteen minutes, he paid Lily at the counter and left. She was busy with other customers who had drifted in and I didn’t get a chance to ask her if she knew who he was.

  Jacob emerged from the back. He seemed to remain at loose ends but color had returned to his face. “Laila, I’m sorry about the way I lashed out at you last evening before you left. I won’t let that happen again.”

  I assured him it was fine and accepted his apology though his actions still stung somewhat. To get his mind off of the situation at Sunrise I told him I thought it would be a good idea for us to go over our policies and services again. I knew now it was less important, but someone would probably come in and take Sunrise over in time. It was good to be prepared for the future. It was also necessary to keep things normal at Roasted Love.

  “Why not come by my house around seven tonight and we can make a plan so our business will get back on track,” I said. “I’d rather meet with you away from here. We could use a break from Roasted Love.”

  He agreed and the idea of moving forward seemed to spur him on. He personally greeted the few customers he knew and said hello to some new ones. It reassured me they still looked at him as someone harmless. There was one person who did not look familiar at all. That made two new customers today.

  Now if the cops would leave Jacob alone for another twenty-four hours that would give him time to look at things in a different manner. I was sure Jacob had not committed the murder but proving it would be something else entirely.

  I vowed to do all I could to prove his innocence.

  Chapter Five

  Jacob Weaver stood at my door and rang the bell at five after seven that evening. He clutched a bouquet of lilies and handed them to me.

  “This is my peace offering,” he said.

  The grin on his face spread wide and once more I saw the old Jacob again. I took them with thanks and he followed me to the kitchen to fill a vase with water and back to my living room. I set the beautiful lilies on the end table next to my favorite paisley chair. He was on my heels until I gestured
toward the matching love seat and told him to make himself comfortable.

  “I’ve been thinking about my bad behavior, Laila. I can’t believe I’ve let my temper rise up like that. There was something about Michael Simms that never sat well with me. It scares me when I think about how much he affected me.” He looked at me with a look similar to a schoolboy caught cheating and realized it was too late to study first. “That’s no excuse for my behavior. I know I shouldn’t let people get to me like that.”

  Instead of getting into ways to improve Roasted Love, we spent the time discussing the recent murder. We both tried to come up with plausible reasons for anyone to have taken resentment to the extent of murder. Until I told him, Jacob was unaware that there was suspicion that Michael had been poisoned. The whole time we talked we both knew that the cops most likely would have their own take on the murder, and that involved Jacob Weaver. I decided to change the subject.

  “Who was the man you introduced yourself to in Roasted Love?” I asked.

  “He said his name was Pierre. He is an artist and commented on the works on the wall. I invited him to bring his works in and let me see them.”

  “Did he have any with him? I noticed he didn’t order anything.”

  “He told me he worked in a small studio in a loft where he lived. I believe he told me it was about a mile from the Piazza. We didn’t set a time for him to come in, but I told him I was there every day and to come in when he was ready.”

  Without voicing it, I hoped Jacob would be there every day until the day he decided to close his business permanently. Until today, that day had been a long distance away. I shook my head to clear it of all negative thoughts.

  “I’m sure the police will be in Roasted Love tomorrow,” said Jacob. “They haven’t questioned me yet but I certainly know I’m on their list of suspects.” He gave a crooked smile. “Don’t worry, Laila, I’ve heard the rumors, too. I expect them to come.”

  He stood up to go and gave me a hug. I tried to keep the tears at bay that threatened to spill from my eyes and managed until he closed the door behind him. I opened the door again when he got to the end of the sidewalk.

  “Wait, Jacob, before you go I want to tell you that you aren’t the only suspect they are looking at,” I said.

  I had forgot to mention that in our conversation. I told him about Jen’s visit with me in the alley earlier that day. The look of relief on Jacob’s face was startling. He turned from me and waved, a changed man. I heard him say ‘thanks’ in a low voice that told me my news caused an emotional response.

  That night I slept soundly and didn’t awake until my alarm pierced my sleep. I felt confident that after telling Jacob about Jen Perry, he would get through police interrogations easier. Lily and Janie sided with him and, of course, I remained loyal to the man. Several shop owners had stopped by Roasted Love the day before offering their support. Jacob was well established on the Piazza and many knew him for his ability to send his customers to their shops over the years, and that resulted in a tight-knit group of business people.

  I noted with satisfaction that Roasted Love had more customers that morning than the week before. Happy to see the increase, I sincerely regretted that Michael’s death was responsible for some of it. The yellow tape hung limply around Sunrise and the flashing lights on the shop were muted. Two police cars parked in front of the coffee house told me they were still combing the premises. There were no signs of Jen Perry. That was no surprise since, until it opened again, there was no reason for her to be there.

  I pulled into my space on the side of Roasted Love and cringed in fear when I saw Michael’s monster staring at me. The Doberman stood watching me with an intensity I didn’t know dogs could muster. I made it into the shop and looked out the side window of the kitchen. He was still standing there. Grabbing a couple of biscuits and a bowl of water, I went out the back door hoping to make friends somehow with the dog. I was on my own. No Michael appeared to save me this time. He slowly came toward me. Hunger supersedes hatred I supposed. He eagerly lapped the water and dove into the biscuits and in less than four bites had devoured them. Thor looked at me as if a small lost puppy and my heart was won. I fed him a few more biscuits with butter this time. I had no idea who would take the dog’s ownership over. I was sure Jen had no interest and wondered if Michael’s wife cared. I had never seen her around Sunrise in the past. I decided if no one claimed him by the end of the day, I would try to take care of him.

  When I went back inside of Roasted Love, I came to the front area just in time to see two cops enter. In times past, they were there to take a coffee break. Today, they asked me if Jacob Weaver was around. Reluctantly, I led them back to Jacob’s office.

  “Jacob, these officers want to talk to you.”

  Silently, he stood up and shook hands with both policemen and they all settled down as if they were there for a social visit. My glance toward Jacob questioned him whether or not I should stay. He told me to go ahead and take care of customers. I left him on his own. I was glad to see he was relaxed since that should speak volumes to the interrogators. I closed the door behind me as one policeman began asking questions.

  After an hour or so I found myself constantly looking at the clock on the wall. How many questions did they have for Jacob? Janie came in the kitchen and picked up more raspberry muffins and sesame bagels. I believe her look was one of reproach since I wasn’t doing my part. The coffee shop was filling up and I knew it was time for me to pitch in. I told Janie I would be right out. I had to get my mind off Jacob and the policemen in the office. Besides, with our clientele returning I didn’t want to give negative vibes. I was sure most were there to observe activities inside and outside Roasted Love but it never hurt to give them good service.

  Forty-five more minutes elapsed and the crowd in the coffee house thinned out. I started cleaning up the kitchen when I heard Jacob’s voice. Obviously, he was agitated. I quickly closed the door into the outer service area a little more securely. Voices and noise rarely escaped through to the area reserved for customers.

  “I did not murder Michael Simms,” said Jacob. “I disliked the man and resented him taking customers away from Roasted Love, but that doesn’t mean I killed him.”

  His tone was measured but loud enough for me to hear from the closed door. I heard a chair shuffle on the tiled floor and concentrated on placing dishes in the dishwasher rack. No one came through the office door. Low tones from one of the cops floated out. It was as if he talked with a child. Squeezing the dishcloth, I clinched my teeth. How dare they talk down to Jacob that way? An irate tone escaped my boss when he spoke next.

  “I worked on books late that night. I left at ten or so. I went straight home. I fell asleep in my chair watching television. I woke up enough to get to bed around one in the morning. I overslept. I came straight to work.”

  Apparently Jacob was repeating in a nutshell all the answers he had already given them.

  “Surely you can understand our concerns, Mr. Weaver,” said one. “You did spend time in prison for assault so that tells us you could very well have hurt someone again.”

  “I didn’t talk with, nor did I go near him at all since a week ago. I did spend three years in prison for assault but that was eleven years ago. My record is clean ever since then. I learned my lesson and have no intention of putting myself in a position that means jail time ever again.”

  I hoped Jacob wouldn’t lose his temper. Chairs scraped against the floor again. A minimal amount of shuffling ensued and both officers left out the back door knowing they had nothing on Jacob to arrest him. The door to the office was ajar. Jacob sat at his desk with his face in his hands. I knocked gently on the oak frame. He looked up and commented about the ordeal in brief terms. He fumed and I realized that his anger was the last emotion the cops observed in him.

  “Why don’t you go on home and recoup?” I said. “We can handle it from here.”

  “I want to remain visible. I think it will h
elp keep down some of the gossip.” His head returned to hands and his body slumped.

  Janie appeared. “A man who said he was here yesterday has a couple of paintings he wants you to look at, Jacob.”

  Her face relaxed when she saw Jacob as he emerged from his office. His anger a minute ago was in check. He knew how to put on a good front. I followed Jacob to where the artist stood shifting from one foot to the other. The paintings were interesting to say the least but I personally didn’t see much quality in either of them. I thought they should be something more eclectic than stiff still life scenes. I knew Jacob would give Pierre a chance anyway and find a spot for them once price and information were provided.

  Chapter Six

  My eyes diverted to a car across the street. The politician, who was in Roasted Love the day before, got out of a blue BMW and approached one of the officers looking around the front door. He was slim and fit with blond hair that was cropped close. There was something familiar about him that I couldn’t put my finger on. They spoke for several minutes and one cop accompanied the man into Sunrise. Lily wiped a table down near me and I asked her if she knew who that man was.

  “I wasn’t paying attention. Maybe he was an insurance representative or someone like that.”

  I told her I was sure he was a politician who had run for office in the last election. She shrugged her shoulders which told me she most likely had not voted or she held no interest in politics. I was curious about him and why he was allowed to go into Sunrise unless he was someone with close ties to the police, as well as people in politics. Though he seemed very familiar to me, I decided the stress we were all under kept me from placing him. He had not returned to Roasted Love, to my knowledge.

  I thought about asking Jacob ,but from what I could hear, he was dropping things right and left in the kitchen. Pierre had left, minus two paintings that leaned against the back of the counter, again ordering nothing. When I went back to see what was going on, Jacob threw his hands in the air and stalked to his office. I took him a cup of his favorite coffee drink, a simple black espresso with no flavors, or as he put it ‘no fanfare.’ He mumbled thanks and told me he needed to be alone and then he looked up at me.