A Killer Cup of Joe

by Jennifer Templeman

  “Come on, Phillips,” she nearly whined. “You’re right across the hall. I promise to come over if I need anything.”

  “I’m less worried about you needing something than I am about Phil finding out I left my post. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not know if the things he told me he would do with his cane are anatomically possible,” Phillips countered. “I’ll be out here not bothering a thing.”

  Ellie knew she’d never be able to rest knowing Phillips was just sitting around on her sofa. “Why don’t we put a movie in, and we’ll argue about where you’ll be after it’s over?”

  With that settled, they easily agreed on a movie. Not that it mattered; Ellie fell asleep as soon as the opening credits began.

  The next morning, she did manage to convince Phillips to go over to his apartment while she was getting ready for the day so that he could shave and shower. If she was going to have a shadow, she preferred it not be one that looked like he’d been up all night, even if it was true.

  Luckily, Phillips knew better than to try to talk her out of going into the office. Ellie had no intention of lounging all day. She had a desk job. If she was just going to sit around, it would be at work. While he was willing to agree there was no harm in going to the office, he refused to let her drive, which meant she was stuck waiting until he was ready. Ellie had intentionally put effort into her appearance in order to cut down the questions on how she was feeling. Even with the extra time she used to work on her hair and makeup, Phillips still took longer. It was nearly two hours later than usual when she walked into her office, but it was enough of a victory to be there at all that she didn’t complain about missing her morning walk-through.

  After asking for the third time if she needed anything, Phillips finally seemed ready to leave her alone.

  Before he could get out of her office, a voice from the doorway demanded, “Why are you here? Your doctor specifically told you to stay home for at least a couple of days.”

  “I didn’t realize my medical records were up for public reading,” Ellie argued, pointing out her lack of appreciation for his snooping in her private life. “And I’m here because the last time I checked, I still worked here.”

  “Didn’t I tell you to take care of her?” Phil turned his anger in Phillips’s direction.

  “I did,” he quickly defended. “She slept most of yesterday and straight through the night. I drove her here and will escort her home when she’s ready to go. Letting her come to work seemed better than risking her sneaking here alone.”

  “Letting me?” Ellie never liked it when Janice and her dad argued over her, and she liked it even less from the clowns in front of her now. “I’m a grown woman who has gone along with the two of you hovering like little old women, but my patience has a limit.”

  There was a moment of silence while her words rang in the room.

  Finally, Phil turned to Phillips and said, “You’re dismissed. It seems Miss Michaels is back to her old self, so you are no longer required as a shadow.”

  Phillips grinned as he was relieved from his duty and nodded his head. “I’ll swing by at quitting time,” he told Ellie as he slowly backed up to the door. “But if you want to leave sooner, just give me a call.”

  As soon as Phillips disappeared, Phil shut the door and then sat down in a chair across from Ellie. He wasn’t tapping his cane embellished with spots to look like a cheetah, which was the first clue he was more relaxed than he had been the last couple of weeks.

  “All kidding aside,” he began seriously. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Phil just stared at her, making it clear he expected more of a response than that.

  “The headache was gone this morning, but I’m still a little sore.”

  “How’s the neck?” Phil pointed to the bruises from the brief time Lydia had gotten her hands around it—bruises that Ellie knew would only continue to grow darker over the next few days.

  She looked away, unable to lie to her boss and not willing to admit that it was still tender. Lydia’s hideous face flashed in her mind against a backdrop of shapeless shadows.

  Understanding what her silence meant, he tapped his cane a few times before encouraging, “That will go away, too. It just might take longer.” Then he leaned forward to ask, “Phillips said you slept. Does that mean you really rested, or has all this gotten in your head and messed with your ability to let it go?”

  “I slept,” she answered. “No bad dreams.” At least, none while she was sleeping. Fortunately Phil didn’t ask if she was still haunted by lingering memories when she was awake.

  “I’m not going to baby you on this, but I expect you to let me know if anything changes. I had a feeling you were prepared, so I’m going to trust that Elliot gave you the skills you need to let it go. But I will throw you on forced paid leave, if you so much as look sleepy at work. I won’t let this ruin your life.” Before Ellie could question how taking her job away was not ruining her life as well, he spoke again. “Today, you have to finish the file, getting every single detail you can remember recorded. The wire got everything between you and the woman, the drugs in your system were a match to the traces in the previous victims, and the way she was attempting to strangle you by twisting her hands made the bruising pattern a match to the other girls as well. Every piece of evidence points to this woman being the killer.”

  Phil continued, “We’ve got the office out west going through the retreat center. When they went in the infirmary, there was an interesting collection of medications that were matches to the individual components of what the woman shot into you. It would take a genius to have blended them so perfectly that they slowly shut down the system of a victim instead of simply killing them. Whoever helped her would have a background in chemistry or medicine.”

  “Like Dr. Evans?” Ellie suggested, remembering how she felt uncomfortable around the retreat center’s physician.

  He nodded, “The doctor’s got a shady past. Nothing seems to stick in court, but he’d been practicing at the yoga center for the last year because there were a number of allegations about some of his private patients turning up dead mysteriously. A team from San Francisco is getting a warrant to search his house, and if there’s any proof he’s involved, they’ll bring him in.”

  There was a bit of peace to be found in knowing they’d caught the killer and after they figured out the role of Dr. Evans there were no other loose ends. It may not have been a smooth takedown, but she’d still played a part in getting a murderer off the streets.

  “You did good, kid,” he told her. “Capture all the details you can, and then put this behind you.”

  With that instruction, he stood and made his way back to the door.

  “What was missing?”

  “Nothing,” he said her with confidence. “I just told you, it’s a solid case.”

  “No, what was missing from the meditating woman on the medallion she put around my neck?” Ellie wanted to know.

  “Why?” He turned to look at her, squinting his eyes, as though activating a human lie detector and scanning her for any deception.

  “Curiosity,” she admitted. “I never could figure out the significance of the body parts she removed from the medallions on the other girls, so I was hoping if I knew what she took off mine, I could figure out what it meant.”

  For a brief moment, Ellie thought he was going to refuse to answer. Then he said, “It’s all in the file. The woman didn’t have any hands. Everything was intact, including her arms, but there were no hands.”

  That wasn’t as helpful as she’d hoped it would be. Lydia had tried to get her to consent to a manicure, but that seemed too simple to fit everything else this sociopath had done. Ellie thought she could recall Lydia talking about Luka touching her hands as though that were especially hard for her to stomach. As much as she wished it were possible to get a definitive answer, without the ability to question Lydia directly, Ellie was going to be for
ced to let this one go.

  Within three hours, she had reviewed the new information in the file and added her own notes. When she clicked the button marked complete, there was a sense of accomplishment her job rarely provided. She’d have to find a way to hold onto this, because she had no way of knowing when she might get the chance to experience it again. Ellie had to admit... It felt good.

  Still basking in the moment, when her phone rang, she lifted it without checking the caller ID.

  “Ellie, thank God you’re alive. I read the file and knew you’d made it, but I didn’t think you’d be able to come into work so soon.”

  “If you read the file, then you knew I was okay, so there was no reason for me to avoid work.”

  “I take a few days off every time I close a major case,” he countered, as though it were perfectly normal.

  Briefly, she wondered if her response of jumping right back into work had been a bad idea. When she remembered that her father had rarely taken time off, she shook off the doubts Agent Peters had planted and asked, “Was there something you needed?”

  “Needed?” He seemed confused by her question. “I was checking on a friend who nearly died in the line of service. Do I need a reason beyond that?”

  “No, of course not,” Ellie conceded.

  “Your name and what you pulled off on this case is everywhere over here. The higher-ups are singing your praises, and I wondered if any of that had made its way to you,” he continued.

  “No,” she admitted, relieved that it was true. Ellie never liked being the center of attention.

  “That’s a shame,” Agent Peters replied, as though the praise were somehow an important part of the process. “When I was called in this morning to discuss my position, I was told to do whatever I had to do to keep you engaged in my cases because you were clearly undervalued in other regions, and we won’t make the same mistake out here.”

  It all sounded like something he would have said six months ago, but there was a hollowness in his voice that made her doubt his sincerity. “Did me getting involved outside of my office cause you trouble?” Ellie asked. “I know you had hoped busting this case open would put you in line for a promotion.”

  “Oh, that...” He seemed to be dismissing her question. “Yes, I got the promotion. There was no one else ready for it, and I had done all the initial work on the case, including bringing you in, so I still got the credit for knowing what resources needed to be tapped to finish this off.”

  Ellie ground her teeth when he mentioned tapping her. It was a crude expression, and she didn’t like being referred to as though she were a keg of beer.

  “Anyway,” he continued on, “now I’m in a position to work a lot more with you because I’ll be handing out assignments and monitoring cases in addition to my own field work. So, you and I may be partnering a lot more in the future.”

  Agent Peters sounded happy about that. Ellie wasn’t sure it was a good idea, so she decided to hide behind something Phil had said. “You know I’m always happy to help out, but Phil has gotten on a tear about everything being logged so our department can justify the number of hours we work. Whenever you need me, just send a request through the system, and I’ll log everything in that way.”

  “I’m sure we’ll find a way to work it out.” He didn’t seem put off by her suggestion. “Besides, we’re the FBI’s most successful team; us closing this case together means our resolution rate is still a hundred percent.”

  Ellie didn’t like him taking credit for the work she’d done to shut the book on this one, but she didn’t want to waste her breath arguing the point. Not wanting to prolong their conversation to get details she could read about in the file, she cited work that needed her attention, and sat back hard in her chair after hanging up the phone.

  “You know what will take that look off your face?” Phillips startled her by asking from the doorway.

  She managed to keep from placing her hand over her heart in surprise. “What?”

  “Going someplace you feel comfortable and having a drink—maybe something with caffeine that tastes like coffee and is big enough you can jump in and drink your way out of.”

  “If you’re buying, I’m always up for a visit to Joe’s,” Ellie quickly agreed, not caring that it meant knocking off an hour early on a day she’d shown up late.

  “I can’t wait to tell him you said that,” Phillips teased, motioning for her to hurry up so they could leave.

  “There was a time you thought I brewed a good pot of coffee,” he reminded her.

  “I still do,” she admitted. “But your cousin makes a perfect cup of coffee, and right now, that’s what I’m after.”

  “Star agent for a day and you’re already getting high maintenance.”

  Just that simply, it felt like their relationship shifted back to the way it had always been, which was a relief. Ellie loved his company and would miss him terribly if her were no longer her neighbor, but she didn’t want him to continue filling the role of overly protective brother. Slipping back into the easy joking they’d always done gave her hope that the rest of her life could return to normal. She could go back to her routine, and everything would be just the way she liked it—plus, she was getting a good drink in the process. As far as she could tell, this was about as close to perfection as her life could manage.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  As they walked to the front door, Ellie found herself doing a quick glance around and noticed a shadow move behind the building. She shook her head, knowing that’s where the dumpster was for the shop, and wondered how long it would take for her instincts to relax. Despite what she’d just been through, there was no reason to assume every shadow was a threat.

  The small bell at Mocha Joe’s announced their arrival and got the attention of the Goth girl behind the counter. She put a bookmark in the novel she was reading before looking at them, as though they needed to explain why they had bothered interrupted her literary moment.

  Apparently, Phillips didn’t have the same concerns as he leaned against the counter and inquired, “Do you ever worry that you’ll get hurt and knocked unconscious and have to be rushed in for an emergency MRI, and the tech won’t find and remove all your piercings?”

  Her initial response was a series of blinks that made Ellie think she couldn’t decide if that was a serious question or not. While it had never crossed Ellie’s mind, it was an interesting scenario. Would the power of the magnet in the imaging unit pull the rings out?

  The extended silence only seemed to encourage Phillips. “Or is the continued threat of pain part of why you have so many of them?”

  The young woman apparently decided that even if she didn’t understand his initial question, he was acceptable to have decorating her counter. “They aren’t all for pain.”

  “You know the one I can’t understand?” he asked, looking at the skull and crossbones on her black T-shirt as he let the silence stretch for a minute. “The eyebrow. It’s hidden behind your glasses, so no one sees it, and it’s probably not got a recreational purpose, so why put a hole in your head there?”

  “Sometimes I wear contacts,” she offered, causing Ellie to cover her mouth with her fist to keep her smile hidden—Phillips had broken the ice with the Goth girl and was getting her to flirt with him. “Plus, this one’s a clip-on.” With that piece of information, she reached up to touch the ring that appeared to go through her eyebrow.

  “If you touch your face and then attempt to make a drink, you can find another job,” Joe called from the doorway of his office, using a voice that reminded Ellie more of a drill sergeant than the kind coffee maker she knew.

  Goth girl seemed embarrassed, and put her hand down on the countertop.

  Joe moved closer and instructed, “Why don’t you make this clown a drink, since I don’t care as much if you violate health code restrictions around his beverage. I’ll make something for the lady in my office.”

  Ellie liked the idea of having coffee in
Joe’s office. Despite wanting to stay, she had to point out, “As much as I would like that, he’s my ride home.”

  Joe glanced at his watch and then smiled at her. “If you don’t mind riding with me, you can ditch him completely, and then I’ll get you home whenever you’re ready to leave.”

  Her gut reaction was to agree without so much as a second thought, but she did manage to look over at Phillips, who was glancing between her and his cousin with amusement.

  When he saw that she was watching him, he nodded and said, “I was just going to grab this to go and then catch the early game on television. If you want to go now, you can ride with me, and if you want to hang out here, I think he’s proven himself capable of watching over you for a little while.”

  She remembered that she had some questions of a more personal nature for Joe.

  Without so much as a goodbye to Phillips, Joe took her hand and led her into his office, pushing the door closed. Once they were separated from the rest of the café, he dropped her hand and motioned her to the loveseat she usually occupied. “Why do I get the impression you wanted to come in here for more than just my coffee?”

  “I have to admit that after hearing the full story of what happened in your parking lot, I do have a few questions.”

  “Garrett warned me that he might have given you just enough details to spark your curiosity without giving you enough to satisfy your need for information,” Joe admitted while working in front of his magic coffee machine.

  Ellie waited for him to hand her the finished drink and sit to her right on the loveseat before pushing for more details. Unfortunately, she couldn’t figure out where to begin, so she just stared at the design on the top of the foam in the cup instead.

  Seconds stretched to minutes, until Joe reached over and took the mug from her hands and set it on the table instead. “When you were here Friday night, I watched you with the guy I knew was the suspect for the killings you’d been investigating. Garrett filled me in when he warned me about you coming here for the meeting. I know you can’t go off appearances, but the guy didn’t hit me as a serial killer. There was nothing malicious in how he was looking at you. But I also knew all the evidence pointed to the fact that someone was likely to make a move that night, so when you left, I stood at the door and watched you.”