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Authors: Cam Larson

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BOOK: A Cup of Murder
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"I’m filling in some since the owner is in
jail," I said.

"I hear you are the Barista over here and no
reporter at all."

"O.k. you got me," I said. "I’m
sorry I duped you and your wife."

There wasn’t much else I could say at that
point. I hoped to get him into a conversation that at least bordered
on friendly. If he accepted my apology, all the better.

"You aren’t the first impostor in my life.
I want to know why you were so interested in Michael and his
personality traits unless it has something to do with your boss being
held for his murder."

"It may all be connected," I said. "It’s
just that I’ve heard so many things that don’t add up about
Michael. He seemed to have more than one personality. I think there
are more possibilities of a murderer than Jacob."

James held his eyes on mine. "They found
evidence against him."

"It could have been planted against him you
know."

"Really. How do you figure that?"

I took a deep breath. "Jacob had no way to
get poison. He didn’t even know what belladonna was. And, for sure,
he would never have gone into Sunrise for any reason, even to kill
someone." I leaned back with satisfaction.

"You have some good points, but evidence is
evidence."

James laid some bills for a tip on the table and
stood to go.

"Wait," I said. "Come back to the
kitchen with me. I have something to ask you about."

James followed me. He waited while I got the
picture from my locker I found by the trash bin. We went into Jacob’s
office and I closed the door.

"I found this picture by our trash bin this
morning. I have no idea why stuff belonging to Michael was over here
to begin with."

The photo had a light coffee stain at the bottom
right corner. Other than that it was intact. The look in James’
eyes clouded when he heard how I found it but he didn’t comment.

"This is a duplicate of the picture I saw in
your foyer. This one has someone named John in it but yours didn’t.
I’m just wondering why you cut him out of yours."

"It was because it held bad memories. Michael
felt guilty about not being with John when he died of the asthma
attack that killed him. I didn’t want to be reminded of that every
time I looked at that photo. I have no idea why you chose to dig
through trash."

"I didn’t choose to. I saw trash on the
ground next to the bin. I stooped down to put it inside. There it
was. I took it so I could show it to you and ask you about it."

I thought a hint of anger showed itself in the
Senator at my words. There was no way I was going to tell him about
the envelopes with Michael’s name on them were there, too.

"I’d like to have that photo," said
James.

"Why do you want it? You have one like it
already," I say. I take a deep breath. "Why is the word
‘redemption’ written on the back?"

"I don’t know what that means. Michael felt
guilty. Maybe he was going to donate money to an Asthma awareness
group, or something else, to make up for whatever that guilt was
about. I don’t know."

His words were familiar in manner to a politician:
rambling. The photo was found in the trash on the property of Roasted
Love. I found it. I planned to keep it. James got the idea. He left
through the front.

Lily came back to the kitchen.

"What was that all about? Now he’s talking
to Janie and he looks mad as hell."

I hurried to the front just as Senator James Simms
ended his talk with the server. For the first time, I realized how
attractive Janie was even though she was obviously very nervous. Her
profile showed an upturned nose and emotion brought a color to her
face that caused a beauty not noticed before. James stalked out the
door. Janie glanced my way and quickly looked away again. I saw fear.
I followed her and before she had time to take an order I pulled her
away.

"I need to talk to you," I said. "Lily
can get this."

She walked behind me to the kitchen.

"How well do you know Senator James Simms?"
I asked her.

"I don’t know him at all. He stopped me to
complain about his cappuccino is all."

"No, he didn’t. He had time to do that when
I sat with him."

"Well, you can think what you want. That’s
what it was all about."

Not only would I plan to get to Roasted Love when
Janie opened the next day, I planned to be there at least fifteen
minutes earlier. I didn’t want her there alone. I even thought
about asking her for her keys to Roasted Love but decided not to.

By the time Friday rolled around Lily was at my
side. Her eyes were sunken.

"Are you o.k.?" I asked her.

"I’m not sleeping well. When I get home I’m
so dead tired I can’t unwind. It’s the end of the week. Did you
ask Jacob about hiring more help? I can’t keep up this pace much
longer, Laila. It would help a little if you would extend Janie’s
hours to help get us through the afternoon customers."

"I’ll get something done by the weekend. Do
you have any ideas of who may want to work here? I need someone we
can count on."

"How about hiring Jen Perry? She knows the
business of a coffee house and I hear she has been thrown out of any
chance of running Sunrise. I think whoever buys it will turn it into
something else anyway."

I wasn’t so sure Jen Perry was my answer. I
needed Jacob here to make decisions like this. I didn’t think he
would go for the idea of hiring someone who had been so close to
Michael Simms in more ways than one.

"Let’s post something on the board at the
front for a few days. We may get some leads that way. Ask around,
too. I’m not sure Jacob would go for hiring Jen Perry, but I’ll
ask him."

Having something concrete to do to solve her
over-worked dilemma gave Lily a purpose. She printed out a help
wanted note and placed it at the front of Roasted Love.

"I didn’t know Janie knew the Senator,"
I said changing the subject.

Lily looked at me in surprise. "I don’t
think she does. Or at least, she has never mentioned it to me."

Our eyes locked. There was no doubt in my mind
that we both knew James had not stopped Janie to complain about his
coffee. Neither of us spoke our thoughts out loud. I appreciated
Lily’s discretion.

The fact that the Senator began to show up in our
neighborhood more than once was another question. I reminded myself
that he was trying to sell Sunrise. We were the only coffee house on
the street until a few blocks over. Maybe he appreciated good coffee
and good food.

"Right," I said under my breath.

Chapter Sixteen

When Thor and I arrived home, I searched the
internet for information on Marianne Andrews. There was something
about the connection between Michael and her son, John, that may add
up to new information. Michael Simms couldn’t have been all bad. He
generously left his business to John’s mother. By the same
reasoning, she may have needed income and hastened him along in his
death. In the middle of my search, my phone rang.

"Hi, Laila, it’s Daniel here."

"Daniel, do you have new information? Things
are looking bad for Jacob."

"Hang on there," he said. "I don’t
have anything new. I’m just checking in on you. A friend of mine
was in Roasted Love and told me he saw you and James Simms in deep
conversation. What was that all about?"

"It’s a long story. Do you know anything
about John Andrews’ mother, Marianne?"

"I know who she is but nothing else. Why do
you ask?"

"I want to talk to her and see if anything
else comes up that gives me any clue about any of this."

"Don’t tell me you are going in as a
reporter again." I could hear a soft chuckle. "You really
aren’t so good at that, Laila."

"No, I’ve given up on using the reporter
thing. I got caught by the Senator today at Roasted Love. I’m going
to tell Marianne I was friends with Michael and ask her about the
relationship with her son is all."

The chuckle came again. "Why don’t you just
introduce yourself as Barista of the coffee house across the street
from Sunrise? Sometime the truth gets you farther along. Besides, you
won’t have to remember how to keep lies straight."

I knew he had a point. I was an amateur at this
getting information drama. Maybe being truthful from the start would
get more from her. The idea that she may have come into Roasted Love
sometime and seen me occurred to me. I would have to think about it.

"At any rate, I don't know her where she
lives," said Daniel. "Or how to get ahold of her. I can try
to look it up, but I imagine that you'd be better and faster at that
than me. Sorry."

After we hung up I searched a bit more and found
some good leads including a phone number. I dialed the number and a
woman answered on the second ring. I introduced myself as a friend of
Michael Simms who had mentioned an old friend named John Andrews. So
much for truth.

"Yes, I am Marianne Andrews. John was my
son," she told me.

Bingo! We set a time to meet tomorrow evening at
her house and she gave me her address. That would give me time to get
Thor home and taken care of before meeting her.

###

After another hectic day at Roasted Love, I took
Thor home and prepped myself for meeting Marianne. When I arrived at
the Andrews home the next evening, a petite lady with touches of grey
in her hair met me at the door. Delicate hand shook mine with a
slight force to it. We entered a small living room that was both
comfortable and practical. A few books were strewn on two different
end tables. A healthy deep green fern set next to the compact brick
fireplace. We sat across from one another.

"Why did you want to talk about Michael and
my son?" she asked.

"Michael was just...so private about his
life," I said. "But he kept a photo that included your son.
I thought maybe if I learned more about Michael's early life...I
could deal with his passing better."

"I actually have a couple albums that have
photos of the two of them..." she said. "I got them out
when you said that you were coming over."

She opened one of two albums on the coffee table
and pointed to a picture. Michael and John were young in the photo,
maybe six or seven years old.

"Michael was very close to John from the time
they first met in second grade. I thought he was closer to him than
he was to his own brother James."

"Did the three of them ever hang out
together?" I asked.

"They did much later when Michael and John
were in their teens. Then when James started in politics, John was
with him a little more of the time. He was very interested in working
for political parties and jumped at the chance to help James in his
elections. Michael did a lot that way, too, but I always thought it
was to help his brother out. I don’t think he had any real interest
in politics."

She smiled as she showed me more pictures of the
boys. There was one of a handsome John sitting in the campaign office
with James hovering over his shoulder. Both were youthful and
ambitious looking.

"James Simms owed a lot to John when it came
to winning elections. You probably know John had terrible problems
with asthma. There were times he had to take time off from the
campaign office. He went for experimental treatments in hopes of a
cure."

Her eyes were wet and I knew she thought of the
death of her son.

"He was too young to die," she said.

I agreed with her and offered sympathy.

"Did Michael visit here in your home after
your son’s death?"

"That’s the thing of it. He came by the day
before he was killed at his coffee house. He said he dropped by to
ask for forgiveness of me and handed me a check. It was the first
time in a long time that he had been in this house."

I sat up straight and asked her what she had to
forgive him for.

"That’s just it. I had no idea why he was
asking my forgiveness. I think he was still crushed to the bone that
he wasn’t there to save John. The paramedics did all they could but
it was too late. He was in the campaign office alone at the time.
Maybe Michael felt responsible for not being there." She took a
deep breath and I waited.

"I believe James found him and called 911
that day," she said. "I believe that’s what I was told,
but later one of the policemen told me he thought a woman in the
office found him. Or it may have been Michael who told me that. I
never questioned it since John’s sudden death hit me so hard. At
the time, I didn’t really care who found him."

I made a mental note about who may have found John
the day he died. That was something to ask Daniel about.

"Was the check a big one?" I asked.

"It was a good amount and I tried to give it
back to him but he refused to take it back. Honestly, I thought his
days of giving money to others had long passed. I knew he had become
a bitter man about so many things. I was sorry to see the change in
him. I kept the check and donated it to the Asthma Awareness Group in
his name."

"That was very generous of you."

"I will always remember the good in Michael.
His bitterness caused him to stay aloof from everyone who crossed his
path. Both Simms boys were good at heart but I feel strongly that
John’s death affected Michael in a way no one could understand."
She smiled and looked me in the eye. "You know those two
brothers were opposites. They both had Alpha personalities but they
were very different from one another."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Michael pretended that he was apathetic
toward people, but he had true empathy for others not as fortunate as
he was. He had a hard time attaching himself to any one person though
except for John. Their friendship endured."

"What about James? What is he like?" I
asked.

BOOK: A Cup of Murder
11.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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