A Cup of Murder Read online

  “You do believe I had nothing to do with Michael Simms’ murder, don’t you, Laila?”

  My split second hesitation caused a renewed fury in him. This time he ordered me out of the office. I pulled the door closed. Foreboding crept through me once again. I found I was on a seesaw with him. There was no honest answer I could possibly have given him. It was simply a question that once again had no definitive answer in my mind. His mood changes didn’t help the situation. It was at that moment that I decided, one way or another, I had to prove Jacob was innocent or guilty. Either way, the outcome would have to be accepted.

  Getting back to work helped somewhat, but by now Lily and Janie were both on edge. The unrest in Roasted Love began taking its toll on all of us. Customers drifted in and out until the busy time sank into a lull. Janie was ready to clock out and I didn’t miss her looking at the clock to make sure her time was up and she could escape. I didn’t blame her. Right now, I wanted to be far away from Roasted Love, too. Lily gave me a half smile. I believe she tried to reassure me. So far, I had not heard her voice an opinion of the whole situation at all. The phone rang and she took the opportunity to answer it. Then she handed the receiver to me.

  “It’s Jen Perry from across the street,” she said.

  It was hard to understand Jen. The Sunrise Barista talked in a muffled tone and I heard what sounded like sobs in her throat that tried to reach a voice she meant to be normal.

  “I have to see you again,” she said. “I’m two blocks from you.”

  We agreed to meet in the alley once more behind Roasted Love. Jacob didn’t need to know she was on the premises again or I would have invited her in to join me at a back table. In less than five minutes, she stood waiting outside the door. Thor stood by watching and waiting. I opened the back door just as I heard a soft growl escape his lips. I was ready in case he was still there and fed him two cinnamon muffins and made a mental note to buy dog food. Jen didn’t seem to have noticed the fact he was appraising her and trying to decide whether or not to attack. Once he gobbled the muffins and saw she was no threat he plopped on the short patch of grass and waited. Naturally, the fact they were already acquainted may have had something to do with it.

  “I don’t know what to do,” said Jen. Puffy red eyes told me she either missed Michael or she was in fear of imminent arrest for his murder. “Do you think I should reopen the Sunrise? The police told me they will be taking the tape down in the next day or two.”

  That was the last thing I expected from her mouth. It was hard to believe she thought it would matter if I thought so or not. She apparently forgot I was her competition.

  “You’ll have to make that decision on your own,” I told her. “But what else is bothering you?”

  “All right,” she said. “I’ve seen Michael’s brother, the Senator around. The police even let him come in with them when they searched the place. They haven’t let anyone else in. I’ve been sitting in my car watching off and on. He caught my eye when he came out and I’m sure he suspects me, too. His eyes bored right into me.” She sniffed again.

  I hadn’t gotten past what she said about the Senator and the fact he was Michael’s brother. It finally hit me that the man I'd seen recently was Senator James Simms. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t made the connection. The familiarity I experienced had to do with how much he resembled Michael. The day James Simms came into Roasted Love was the first time I had seen him there. For that matter it was the first time I had seen him anywhere in the neighborhood. I asked her how long she had known the Senator.

  “I met him once when Michael and I were out for dinner together. We were in what we thought was a secluded place where no one would know us and in walked James. Michael took it in stride as if he didn’t care that his brother saw us together and introduced us. James looked more at me than at his brother, and at the time it gave me the creeps wondering what he was thinking about me. A few days later I heard Michael arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He told me it was his brother James and that they didn’t always see eye to eye.”

  I added these facts up in my head. So James Simms and Michael Simms may be related but apparently there was animosity between them for whatever reason. I redirected my attention to Jen.

  “Have the police talked with you again?”

  She told me they had come to her apartment and interviewed her briefly. She then had to go down to the police station and make a statement regarding her whereabouts from the time she closed the Sunrise late until back at work the next morning. Though Jen appeared rather superficial at times in the way she flaunted herself in front of customers, especially the men, I didn't get the feeling she was capable of the crime.

  “One cop picked up on the fact that Michael broke off the affair and then made me keep Sunrise open an extra two hours. They took that as suspicious when I told them I was sure he had gone home. At least, he wasn’t at Sunrise. I told them if Michael came back to the shop that night it would have been after I left around ten. They knew we had an argument that night but they let me go. I’m sure they think I had something to do with poisoning him.”

  “Have they determined it was poison that killed him?” I said.

  “They didn’t tell me that but I overheard two cops talking before I gave my statement and they were talking about Michael. One said he thought it was interesting that the victim was poisoned while drinking his own coffee. So I guess that was the cause; I have no idea what kind of poison or where it came from.”

  “All I can tell you is to stick to the truth in what you know. Unless they have some evidence, they won’t arrest you.”

  By this time I was more than a little weary of Jen, Jacob and the whole incident. The information regarding James Simms piqued my resolve though and I glanced at my watch. We had a few hours before closing. We had a busy evening ahead since most of the shops on the Piazza opened until eight or later for people leaving their day jobs for a night on the town. The variety of shops to full-scale restaurants drew them. Shoppers came in one after another to Roasted Love.

  Jacob left before closing time. Lily and I could have used his help that night but neither of us commented when he walked out the back door. Her teenage son cleaned the kitchen. Lily brought him in at my request. Bits and pieces of conversation about the murder were heard throughout the coffee house. When closing time finally arrived we locked up and readied Roasted Love for the next day. Lily and I said goodnight and I thanked her for her hard work performed under stressful circumstances.

  Before I got into my car, I went around the shop to look for Thor. He waited as if he knew I was going to take him home with me which I did. He stayed in the car while I dashed into a small neighborhood grocery store for dog food. I didn’t take time to read the ingredient label but bought a sack that said for large dogs. That fit the orphan I took upon myself to adopt.

  Thor readily followed me into my kitchen as if he was used to finding his way around my house. I pulled a plastic bowl from the cabinet and poured food for him and filled another with water. My mind was on a plan to find the real murderer of the owner of Sunrise when I heard Thor whine. He stood by the back door and I let him out for his needed break. I sat on the patio and thought.

  I had to come up with some kind of ruse to get to New York City where I remembered James Simms and his wife, Sarah occupied a plush condo. I wanted to talk to him about Michael but wasn’t sure how to accomplish that. The Senator was accustomed to talking with people of the state, especially voters or potential ones. I didn’t doubt I could set up an interview with him if I pretended to be a reporter for the West River Daily News. I decided not to call ahead for an appointment so he would have no time to check my fake references if he wanted to. The day he was in Roasted Love he spent his time looking across the street at Sunrise. He never really saw me, so I can't imagine he would recognize me.

  I knew I was jumping ahead of myself. There was much more to do before I interviewed James Simms. I needed more information on
Michael Simms for one thing. The other goal was to find someone to take care of my new dog when I decided it was time to go to New York City. The idea of having a dog around may be a good thing for Jacob. I planned how to approach him and whether or not to tell him if and why I was going into the city. In regard to Thor, maybe one growl from him toward Jacob would be enough to calm him down if he decided to display his anger again.

  If I told Jacob my intentions of finding the murderer of Michael Simms I wasn’t sure what his reaction would be. He was a proud man and a fighter. He may not like the idea I planned to interfere on his behalf. But the way I looked at it, I was his main ally or at least the one person he could trust whether he realized it or not.

  I cringed when I reflected on my hesitation earlier to reassure him about his innocence.

  Chapter Seven

  With Thor alongside me, I arrived at Roasted Love. His eyes begged me to invite him in. I commanded him to stay and returned with a large bowl of water. I had no idea where his leash was and had failed to purchase one when getting the dog food, so I trusted him to stay close.

  Though it was early in the morning, Janie and Jacob were already as busy as we used to be in the days before Sunrise. The patrons were chatting and I noticed conversations centered more on their normal activities rather than the murder of Michael Simms. I picked up on snippets of opinions, but none like the past two days. I silently commended Jacob for his vow to be visible to all. They could see he had not been arrested so that seemed the reassurance they needed. The day continued in a normal manner even though bits of yellow tape continued to hang on across the street. By one o’clock most of the noonday crowd returned to their own activities.

  "I’m going out for some lunch today," I told Jacob. "I’ll be back soon before mid-afternoon gets busy."

  He nodded and I felt our relationship had returned to normal even after yesterday’s exchange. Neither of us knew appropriate words to mend any of it, but since we had known each other a long time that alone kept us drawn in a partnership. I headed for Sam’s Sandwiches after retrieving my laptop from my car and walked the two blocks down the street. Thor wanted to come along but when I commanded him to stay, he did that and I was thankful Michael had instilled obedience in the dog.

  "Hi, Laila," someone called from a shop door.

  I turned to see Mary Lynne, owner of Beads and Bangles. Mary Lynne was a woman in her fifties. I knew her as a friendly person who found it hard to leave the mentality of the sixties, indicated by her peasant-styled long skirt and gypsy blouse. Dark black hair was adorned with glittering rhinestones and small red beads that matched a long necklace twined in layers around her neck. I stopped to talk with her for a couple of minutes.

  "How are things going on your end of the street?" she asked.

  "I think we are getting back to normal. The yellow tape is still around Sunrise so I guess the police are still going through the place."

  She smiled and I noted sympathy in her dark eyes. "Jacob Weaver didn’t kill Michael Simms," she said. She turned to go back inside just as a customer entered but not before she waved to me over her shoulder.

  It was only when I ordered my favorite at Sam’s, watercress and goat cheese on wheat and tall glass of unsweetened tea, did I remember Mary Lynne thought of herself as some kind of fortune teller. I shook the idea from my head that she would know Jacob was not a murderer. She was simply being a good friend and besides, I didn’t believe in fantasy, the paranormal or psychics. After greeting several people, I started my research. I sat in a corner at a table away from the other customers. Sam wasn’t surprised to see me there with my laptop. I came here often enough whenever I needed a different scene to break my day.

  Opening my laptop, I searched the name 'Michael Simms'. There was plenty about his recent demise. I skipped over it all and went to his bio written by a reporter who had known him in the past when both were in college. I looked at that information twice. Michael had been brilliant. That was something I already sensed about him, but had no idea he had gone to Harvard. He finished with a Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration and Management. That was the end of his formal education.

  "I wonder how he ever ended up with a coffee house," I said under my breath.

  "You know it’s not good to talk to yourself, Laila," said Sam. He stood there with an iced tea pitcher in his hand and a grin on his face that told me he thought his humor was his best asset. I smiled back.

  "I know that, but sometimes it helps to make sense of things. You should try it sometime."

  He refilled my glass and went on to other customers and I returned to my exploration of Michael Simms. It turned out that his father was big on Wall Street and had retired as an Analyst. In the bio, his father was mentioned, but his brother was described in more detail than Michael himself. James Simms. I read how the Senator became interested in politics from an early age and climbed his way up. His constituents admired him and were loyal to him all the way to the Senate. It stated Senator Simms’ best friend had also been his campaign manager through several elections.

  There was nothing immediately said about Michael’s mother until after his brother and father were described. It was mentioned she had a career as an Accountant in a prestigious financial institution and died a decade ago as a result of a car accident while on vacation with friends in the Hamptons.

  While considering Michael Simms’ status in a life of wealth and power, I sensed someone watching me. My eyes met those of the paramedic who had been at the crime scene on the Piazza. He was even more handsome up close and he hesitated when I caught his eye.

  "Do you want to join me?" I asked.

  Usually I wasn’t so forward in inviting someone I only knew from afar to sit at a table in a restaurant with me. Instinct told me he was happy to get the invitation. My motive for inviting him was an ulterior one. I wanted to get some first-hand information about the infamous day at Sunrise.

  "Sure," he says. He strides toward me and sits down across from me. I closed the notebook and waited until the server took his order of roast beef with au jus sandwich, my second favorite.

  "Just what did happen to cause Michael Simms’ death?"

  I wasn’t one to beat around the bush. If he hadn’t smiled I would have controlled my breathing better. As it happened, he drew me in like a magnet. I didn’t even know his name. Perhaps that should come first.

  "I’m Laila Rook, by the way," I said.

  "I’m Daniel Jenkins, a paramedic as you already seem to know." He leaned back comfortably. Amusement danced in his dark eyes. "The investigation is still open and I can’t give you confidential information."

  "I’m a reporter from the local newspaper and aware that the media is allowed to ask and hopefully get information. We have an obligation to keep the public informed."

  My brazen statements caused him to laugh out loud and he leaned back even farther. I hoped the chair would topple as my face turned to light pink. I squirmed realizing all eyes were on the table in the corner.

  "You are no reporter and we both know that," he said. He spoke only when he caught his breath long enough to do so. "I’ve been in Roasted Love more than a few times and I happen to know you are the Barista there. More importantly, why are you so interested in Michael Simms’ murder investigation?"

  "I’ll tell you that if you answer my questions."

  There was an impasse that caused a silence between us. The server arrived with a pitcher of tea in one hand and she reached for Daniel’s glass to take it for a refill of coke. I refused more tea and glanced at my watch. I had fifteen minutes before I had to get back to Roasted Love. I broke the standoff.

  "I have only a few minutes until I have to get back to work," I said. "I want information because the murder happened across the street from where I work and because it is a known fact that Sunrise was in fierce competition with Roasted Love."

  "So you really aren’t a reporter?"

  I decided his sense of humor was better
than him just getting up and walking out on me.

  "No, I’m not a reporter. I am curious about your reaction when you brought Michael’s body out on the stretcher that day. You appeared sad."

  Daniel’s face grew somber. His muscular hand that encircled the cold glass of coke tightened and then relaxed.

  "I’ve known the Simms family for quite a few years. It goes back to when James first ran for a local office in his district in New York City. He was running for the office of Mayor, the one of few elections he lost. Someone in his campaign office suffered an asthma attack," he said. "I was in the car with my dad who was a paramedic at the time. He got the word someone needed assistance and he drove there right away. We were only a few blocks from the office and he was off-duty but the closest paramedic to the scene. Watching my dad perform CPR that day clinched it for me that I wanted to follow in his footsteps."

  I still wasn’t sure that knowing the brother brought him close to Michael. He went on to tell me he had met Michael off and on since then. The man who had the asthma attack was James’ campaign manager and friend, John Andrews.

  "The Senator and John were the only ones in the office at the time. All three of those men were good friends. It was just hard to see Michael dead that day."

  "I’m sorry," I said. "That makes sense that it hit you especially hard." I glanced at my watch. "I apologize but I really need to get back to work."

  Daniel reached for both tickets before I could pick mine up. After thanking him, I said, "I am interested in clearing my boss’s name. Jacob Weaver is a suspect in Michael’s death."

  He expressed a sincere sympathy and a genuine understanding. Once more I was drawn in to him in more ways than I wanted to think about at the moment. The connection was broken when the skies turned dark and a clap of thunder was heard in the distance. Rolling clouds told me sheets of rain were about to pour and I was stuck at Sam’s Sandwiches with no car and no umbrella.