Caffeine & Killers (A Roasted Love Cozy Mystery Book 3) (8 page)

Lights were on in the back half of the building.
Those who worked in the front answering phones and taking care of
other matters had left for the night, but the offices in the back
still had people in them. I'd have to find a time to return when the
whole place was dark. I turned the car around and headed for home.

# # #

Daniel had let himself into my apartment. The
aroma of chicken chow mein and noodles greeted me – and so did
Thor. But best of all, Daniel looked up and grinned at the sight of
me. We met in the middle of the kitchen where he planted a loving
kiss on my lips. It was a relief to find things back on track between
us.

"Thor's been outside for his playtime,"
said Daniel. "I told him he'd have to wait until you got here to
eat, so you'd better take care of him. His food's already measured
out and he's one hungry dog."

While Daniel dished out our chow mein, I gave Thor
and Benji their dinners in the corner of the kitchen. Daniel and I
had learned to ignore the crunching sounds of my large dog while we
ate.

"Okay, Laila, I’m ready to hear you out,"
Daniel said. "So, tell me: What do you think really happened to
Homeless John?"

I gathered my thoughts, and then laid out what I
had so far. "Well, do you remember what Councilman Carpenter
said in Roasted Love about wanting to clear all of the homeless out
of West River?"

"Yeah, sure. I remember."

"Then there's another guy who comes in for
coffee – Ronald Larch. He's Carpenter’s campaign manager and he
rants about the homeless, too."

"Yes. I know about him, too."

"Okay. Anyway," I continued, "I had
dinner last night at the Old York Street Bistro with Anna. And Larch
was there with someone I thought I recognized – and it turned out I
did recognize him because he's a DEA agent."

Daniel frowned as we both took our plates and sat
down. "He was from the Drug Enforcement Agency? How do you know
that?"

"I saw him when I went over to talk to Chief
Hayes at the precinct house. He was taking a meeting with the chief
while I was waiting my turn."

"DEA? Here? What for?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. You'd have to ask
the chief."

Daniel paused. "I hate to say it, Laila, but
we did just have a man found dead on the street from an overdose –
or, at the very least a suspected overdose," he finished,
blocking my objection before I could say anything.

I took a bite of the hot chicken chow mein. "I
really had no idea West River had people living on the street – at
least, other than John."

"They stay invisible for the most part,"
said Daniel. "At least, they do up in this end of town. Now –
it's clear that you suspect Calvin Carpenter might have had something
to do with John being dead. What's your evidence?"

I sighed. "I don’t have any tangible
evidence. It would be a pretty big risk for him to actually murder
someone – not when his campaign and re-election mean everything to
him. But I can't forget him saying that he wanted all the homeless to
‘just disappear.’"

"I don't think he'd have much to gain by
murdering someone, either. He talks a lot about his feelings about
the homeless, but maybe it's just a cause to campaign on and if it
wasn't that, it would be something else. So: What about Ronald
Larch?"

"Oh, he's Carpenter's campaign manager, so he
of course he says whatever Carpenter says. After John was found, I
heard Larch say that it was just as well to be rid of one more
homeless bum. Something like that.

"But then – somebody – yeah, it was Walt,
Walter Schubert – said he thought Larch had known John personally."

"What did Larch say to that?"

I thought for a minute. "Nothing. He said
nothing. And now that I think about it, I haven't seen Larch in
Roasted Love for the past couple of days."

Daniel nodded. "Interesting. If Larch hadn't
known John personally, why not just say so?"

"Good question," I said, turning back to
my food. "Good question."

When we finished our meal, we took Thor out for a
walk. Stars twinkled in the clear night sky and the air was warm with
a slight breeze.

"So, you've got Calvin Carpenter and Ronald
Larch on your list of possible suspects," said Daniel. "Anybody
else?"

"No. I don't think so. Of course – I guess
the drug dealers down in the rough part of town have to be
considered. Even though, no, I still don't think John was an addict."

The truth was that I did have a few others in mind
that I hadn’t looked into yet, but it wasn’t time for Daniel to
know about that.

"I will say, though, that Councilman Calvin
Carpenter still nags at me. He and Ronald Larch seem like the most
likely suspects. They could have teamed up to have John murdered and
hired someone to kill him. It's not that hard to do."

"I wouldn't know," he said giving me a
funny look. "Just remember – the drug world is not the world
you know. Speculating is fine, but I don't want you to do anything
more than that. Just leave the investigation to the cops."

He gave me a kiss as he left to go home. But, I
knew I couldn’t just drop what I had started in John’s case. My
next plan was to scout out the councilman’s headquarters after
closing.

# # #

The next night, I waited until nine o’clock and
headed to the building that housed Carpenter's campaign headquarters.
I arrived just as the last light was going off – I could see that
it came from his office – so I circled around again to avoid him
when he came out.

I gave him time to get in his car and leave, and
then I drove back to the side door. I parked in a shadowed area
between the streetlights and got out the bent bobby pin I'd prepared
earlier.

I wasn’t sure how easy the side door lock would
be to pick, but I'd noticed, when I left Carpenter's office after my
visit there, that the side door only had an ordinary lock. There was
no deadbolt on it.

I had no luck with the hairpin, so I tried the old
credit card trick. Within a few moments I was rewarded with the door
opening quite easily for me. I walked inside and shut the door behind
me.

Adrenalin surged through me. I'd made it! I had no
idea what to look for, but I felt sure that if "it" was
there I would know it.

I headed for Carpenter’s office. The door opened
right up. His desktop was stacked with various folders and I shuffled
through them, but nothing there concerned homeless people.

Next was his desk drawer, which I rifled through.
The first thing I noticed was the dark golden liquid in a small
half-filled liquor bottle. There were a few family photos and a Twix
bar among scattered pens and miscellaneous keys. Wrappers that had
once held dark chocolate were wadded up and stuffed in the back of
the deep drawer.

I sifted through a few scribbled notes. They
seemed to be just reminders of significant dates coming up, all of
which dealt with Carpenter's campaign.

On the credenza behind his desk I found more
folders. I picked one up and saw that it was financial accounting for
possible future plans to run for the Senate. He was ambitious, if
nothing else.

Just as I was ready to close the folder, a few
receipts fell onto my lap. The tabs revealed that they came from a
night club in New York City. One was dated the same day John had died
and was signed by Carpenter. It sure provided an alibi for the
councilman and I decided I was ready to give up on Carpenter as a
suspect. My findings were too thin to hold any water.

Then I froze. From the corner of my eye I saw a
shadowed figure in the darkened hallway outside the councilman’s
office.

I had no weapon with me or anything for defense,
unless I counted the heavy paperweight on Carpenter’s desk.

"
What are you doing here?
" The
voice was loud and demanding, but the face in the shadow was even
more frightening – it was that of Councilman Calvin Carpenter.

He flipped on the fluorescent office lights. In
the sudden harsh glare, his face appeared grotesque from the rage
that twisted it. "This is breaking and entering. I can bring
charges against you right this minute! What are you
doing
here?" he repeated.

If I thought I'd seen anger on the day I'd visited
him, it was nothing compared to the fury he displayed at this moment.

I stood up and faced him. I had to put on a brave
face and bluff my way through this. There was no other option for me.

Before I had a chance to find an impossibly
plausible answer, Carpenter snarled at me again. "If you're
trying to find evidence of my stance on the homeless, and on drug
dealers, there's nothing here that I haven't said publicly."

When I remained silent, his angry eyes narrowed
even further. "Who are you working for? What are you trying to
do? Ruin me?"

"No. I have no intentions of ruining you,"
I said at last. "Everyone has a right to their opinions. It’s
just that the homeless are people, too – people who have had a run
of bad luck."

"Your take on the homeless does not explain
why you are rifling through my office!"

"I’m looking into the murder of John, the
homeless man," I said. There was no other answer that came to
mind.

Carpenter sighed heavily. "The police
reported that he died of a heroin overdose, either accidental or as
suicide." He glared at me with cold, cold anger. "So, you
think I killed him? That it was murder?"

Again, I froze. I'd never seen anyone so furiously
angry – especially not anyone so angry at me. It occurred to me
that maybe he had killed John and that if he'd killed once, he could
kill again.

The paperweight was too far away for me to grab it
easily. He remained standing in the doorway with his hands on the
door frame, trapping me inside his office.

We stared each other down for a few moments.
Finally, his face relaxed slightly even though his eyes still blazed.
His facial color began to look a little less red and a little more
normal.

I found that I still had some courage left. "I
don’t know who caused his death," I said, "but John did
not use drugs. I'm sure of it. He may have died from an overdose of
heroin, but he didn't do it to himself."

Carpenter moved further into the room and sat down
in the visitor's chair on the other side of the desk. I wanted to
head for the door, but that was impossible without passing him on the
way. I sat down again in his desk chair.

"Now, let’s discuss this reasonably,"
said Carpenter, apparently deciding to use another angle. "It's
true that I'm against the homeless littering the streets of West
River. It's true that I want to get rid of them. But I do not want to
do it by killing them off one by one. If nothing else, do you know
what that would do to my chances of advancing to any higher political
office?"

I nodded, just like a schoolgirl sent to the
principal's office. I began to realize just how much trouble I was
in, breaking into a locked office building at night. I'd been too
focused on my goal of finding out what really happened to Homeless
John to think clearly.

My only hope now was to talk calmly and logically
and offer some kind of rational explanation. "Councilman, I want
to explain some things that you may not be aware of. It has to do
with the people who have nowhere to go and end up on the streets.
I’ll use John as an example."

He gave me a small wave of his hand, so I went on.
"John was intelligent. He'd attended two years of college. He
spoke coherently on all kinds of subjects. And – did you know he
had a family?"

"I did not know anything about him
personally," said Carpenter.

"But I did. He had a brother. A brother who
did fall into drug use. John spent a lot of time trying to help him.
He told me he saw the poison of drugs on the streets, especially in
our downtown area. He focused on his brother because they'd had a
rough time when they were kids and John felt responsible for Steven.
I saw John as a person who simply fell on hard times and had nowhere
to go."

Carpenter relaxed a little more, and looked at me
as if we'd just met for the first time. "I never thought of them
as leading normal lives at one time. This may determine a different
avenue in taking care of the problem."

"Seriously? There are families – like the
woman with the two children – who are at high risk on the streets.
These people need help, not another person trying to get rid of them.
It's not always their fault." I was actually impressed with the
way he listened to my thoughts about the issue.

"You have some good points, Laila. I’ll
take them into consideration, but no promises this late in the game."

He was a politician, after all. I decided he felt
it was too late to change course. But maybe I would still get a
chance to convince him that there was another side to the homeless
issue. I still had three weeks to change his mind.

"As for pressing charges against you – just
promise that if you want to know anything else about me, you'll come
in during office hours."

A wave of relief came over me and I thanked him as
I walked past him and down the hall.

Carpenter laughed. "These office hours will
soon be all-nighters anyway, in which case, you won’t have to break
in after dark the next time."

Chapter Eleven

After the adrenalin rush of my escapade at
Councilman Carpenter’s headquarters, I was left feeling pretty
drained. It was close to midnight when I finally walked into my
living room. After Thor’s enthusiastic welcome, I let him out to
have a short run.

While the dog was outside, I thought more about
Homeless John. I had to admit that Daniel was right when he told me I
really knew nothing about the man. I'd liked him because he seemed so
normal when he came into Roasted Love for his coffee, even when I
knew he'd been sleeping next to a sidewalk all night.