Death by Espresso

by Alex Erickson

  “I did no such thing!”

  Gina’s hands tightened on the bat at my raised voice, and I took a ginger step away from her, just in case.

  “Let us sort it out, Mr. Patterson,” Paul said. He walked over to me. “All right, what happened?”

  I watched Buchannan, who was moving toward the kitchen. He glanced back at me, as if feeling my gaze. His mouth pressed into a grimace and he shook his head sadly, as if he’d already condemned me.

  Knowing him, he probably already had. Buchannan and I never quite got along. I thought things were getting better between us lately, but this would only sour our already tense relationship. Nothing I ever did seemed to make him happy. And even when I had nothing to do with whatever crime was committed, he always acted like I was guilty of some part of it.

  Paul, on the other hand, was the proverbial one that got away. We’d had a single date, one that had been set up by his mom, the police chief, Patricia Dalton, of all people. Then, thanks to my penchant for getting into trouble, we’d drifted apart. I’d moved on to Will, he started dating a waitress named Shannon, yet we still found ourselves drawn to one another.

  Unfortunately, it was usually murder that brought us together.

  “I found her like that,” I said, motioning toward where Cathy lay. “Well, not like that exactly. She was facedown, but Frederick moved her.” I glared at him, taking a bit of glee in tattling on him. Petty? Sure. But he’d accused me of killing her first, so I felt justified.

  Paul removed his hat and ran his fingers through his sandy-brown hair, which was growing longer. I actually thought he looked better with longer hair. It made him seem a little wilder, not so—I don’t know—good-old boy. “Why were you here?” he asked me.

  “I wanted to talk to them about Vicki’s wedding. She was upset because they were messing with her plans. I thought I could make it better.”

  “By killing Cathy Carr?” Gina asked, incredulous.

  “No,” I said. “By talking to you. I didn’t think I’d walk in and find a dead body.” I shuddered and hugged myself. “I think she might have had a heart attack. She was always eating those chocolate-covered espresso beans and drinking coffee. That can’t have been good for her.”

  “She was holding a weapon when we came in,” Frederick said.

  “I always told Vicki she was a bad influence,” Gina added.

  “It was a candlestick,” I said, motioning to the item in question. “I found it on the floor.” And then I realized how it must have sounded. Krissy, in the kitchen, with the candlestick. Just like a game of Clue. “I swear I didn’t kill her.”

  “Did you see anything or anyone else?” Paul asked. He looked frazzled, and a little annoyed. I wasn’t sure if it was because of me, or because of the Pattersons’ accusations. I had a feeling it was a little of both.

  “No, I . . .” I frowned. “Wait. The light upstairs. When I got here, it was on. It went out when I knocked on the door. Someone was here!”

  “We were getting takeout,” Gina said, touching the bag of cold food, when Paul looked to her.

  “Is there anyone else staying with you?”

  “No, there shouldn’t be anyone here.” This from Frederick.

  “Wait here.” Paul removed his gun, and then carefully made his way over to the stairs. Buchannan was done looking at Cathy and moved to stand by the front door, presumably in case someone else was in the house and decided to make a run for it.

  I had a near overwhelming urge to follow him as Paul made his way up the stairs, but at a harsh look from Buchannan, I decided to remain behind. Gina had yet to put down the bat, and was holding it with a death grip as she watched the stairs, while Frederick had taken up position between me and the kitchen, like he thought I might go in to destroy evidence while the police were distracted.

  A tense couple of minutes followed where no one spoke. My hands were clutched to my chest as I waited, fearing the worst. Has someone been here the entire time? What if Gina and Frederick hadn’t come home when they did? Could someone have startled Cathy, causing her to have a heart attack, and then gone upstairs afterward? I mean, Vicki had been staying with Mason more and more for months now. The house was usually empty. Could a thief have come, thinking no one would be home, and startled the life right out of Cathy?

  It was possible. It was also possible the light had simply burned out the moment I’d knocked on the door, one of those cosmic coincidences that rarely happened, but did occur at times. This could be all one big misunderstanding, an accident no one could have prevented.

  And if someone had been upstairs when I’d arrived, that meant they could have come down and attacked me at any moment. I very well might have been saved by the people who were now accusing me of murder.

  Paul returned a minute later, gun holstered. “No one’s here,” he said. “John? What do you think?”

  “Looks like she hit her head,” he said. “There’s blood in her hair.”

  “Or someone hit her,” Gina said, shooting a meaningful look my way.

  An ambulance pulled up out front then. Buchannan went outside to meet the EMTs, while Paul returned to question me and the Pattersons some more.

  “Were you expecting company?” he asked Frederick.

  “None. Gina and I went out to pick up something to eat. Cathy remained behind. We got her her favorite.” He wiped a tear from his eye. I couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not.

  “Krissy could be right and she had a heart attack,” Paul said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Someone will check her out and we’ll know for sure soon.” He turned to me. “Until then, I think it’s best you come down to the station and give a statement.”

  “What?” I gaped at him. “You think I had something to do with her death?”

  Paul cringed at my tone, which was admittedly, earsplitting in my horror at the implication. “No, but I can’t rule anything out just because we’re friends.”

  “She’s always been sketchy,” Gina said, pointing the bat at me. “It was only a matter of time before she snapped!”

  Buchannan returned then, a pair of EMTs in his wake. They pushed past us into the kitchen to deal with Cathy. Suddenly, the house felt overly full and I wanted out of there, though I wasn’t so sure the police station would make me feel any better.

  “You have to believe me,” I said to Paul. “I found her like that.”

  “I do,” he said, though he kept his voice low so no one else could hear. “But you do need to come with me. Please, Krissy, don’t make this harder on us than it already is.”

  In the kitchen, Buchannan had removed a baggie and was using a gloved hand to slip the candlestick into it. His eyes flickered to me, and he shook his head again. Clearly, he already thought me guilty of what could very well have been an accident.

  “Fine,” I muttered. “If it’ll make things easier.” I might have been a tad sarcastic with the last.

  “It will.”

  A car screeched to a halt out front. A moment later, Vicki and Mason rushed through the door, dressed in their PJs and looking as if they’d just woken. They very likely had, considering the hour.

  “What’s going on?” Vicki asked, voice high-pitched with near hysteria. Her gaze found both her parents alive and well, and she sagged. “You’re okay. I was so worried.” And then she turned to me, expression confused. “Krissy?”

  “What are you doing here, Victoria?” Gina asked, cutting me off before I could respond.

  “Neighbors called,” Mason said. “Said there was something going on at the house. And then we heard the sirens and saw the cop cars and ambulance. We thought . . .” He trailed off as he took in the paramedics in the kitchen.

  “It’s Cathy,” I said. “I think she had a heart attack.”

  “We found her hovering over her!” Gina said. “She killed her!”

  “Mom.” And then, Vicki looked to me. “Is she really . . . ?”

  I nodded. Just like Vicki, I didn’t w
ant to utter it out loud.

  “Oh no.” Vicki’s hand went to her mouth. She might not have known Cathy Carr at all, but to have a murder happen in your own home . . . it was a shock.

  Mason put his arm around Vicki’s shoulder and hugged her close, never once taking his eyes off of what was going on in the kitchen. The paramedics were doing their best to preserve the scene, while blocking off much of the view. Paul watched them a moment before looking to me.

  “Wait here,” he said before going over and taking both Mason and Vicki aside.

  “You’re not going to get away with this,” Frederick said the moment Paul was out of earshot.

  “We know you despised having her here,” Gina added, head jerking toward where Cathy lay.

  I couldn’t deny not wanting Cathy, or the others the Pattersons had brought along, around, but I never would stoop to killing one of them. They had to know that, right?

  I sank down into a chair and refused to speak. Everyone was in shock. Once they took Cathy away and the police figured things out, life could go back to normal. The Pattersons could continue to bicker at their daughter, I could spend time with Dad and Laura, and then, after the wedding, they could all go back home.

  The wedding! I glanced up at Vicki and Mason, heart skipping a beat. This was supposed to be a happy time for them, yet it was one disaster after another. Would they be forced to postpone the wedding? Everything was already booked and paid for. Even if they wanted to put it off for a few months, I wasn’t so sure they could.

  Or should.

  Cathy’s death was an accident. It had to be.

  Right?

  Paul patted Vicki on the shoulder, shook Mason’s hand, and then walked into the kitchen. He spoke briefly to Buchannan, who shot me another look, and then nodded. Paul then returned to the dining room, thumbs tucked into his belt. He looked us all over once, as if trying to decide how to attack the situation without causing too much commotion. There were some pretty volatile personalities in the room, and sadly, I think I was one of them.

  “Officer Buchannan will handle things from here,” he told Frederick. “Please remain here in case he needs anything from you.” He paused, eyes drifting to Gina and her bat. “I’m sorry for your loss. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  I expected the Pattersons to throw more accusations my way, but instead, they shook Paul’s hand and then moved to comfort a clearly distraught Vicki. Paul helped me to my feet.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get this thing sorted out.”

  I nodded, numbly, not quite sure what else to do.

  Paul took me by the arm, and while I wasn’t handcuffed or anything, I felt like a criminal as he led me slowly from the house. All eyes were on me, but I refused to meet any of them, even Vicki’s. I didn’t want to see accusation there, though I knew she couldn’t possibly think I had anything to do with Cathy’s death.

  Outside, Paul released my arm and turned to face me. “Are you okay to drive?” he asked, eyes growing concerned. “If not, I can take you.”

  “I’m okay,” I said. I might be a little shaky, and a lot worried, but I didn’t feel as if I was going to faint or anything.

  “Are you sure?” He put a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to meet his eye. “Because if you think you need a few minutes, we can wait. Or I can take you there and bring you back after you give your statement.”

  “No,” I said, forcing a weak smile. “I’ll be okay. Just a little shocked. I can’t believe she’s dead.”

  “Did you know her well?”

  “Not at all. She came with Gina and Frederick, and other than knowing she’s a wedding planner who really liked coffee, I knew nothing else about her.”

  “I see.” Was that incrimination in his voice? I didn’t get the chance to ask because he then said, “Meet me at the station. I’ll call ahead and let them know we’re coming and that everything is under control here.”

  “Okay.”

  “Krissy.” He waited until I looked up. “It’ll be all right.”

  I nodded, couldn’t bring myself to smile any longer. How could anything be all right when someone had lost her life? Accident or not, Vicki’s wedding had just taken a serious turn for the worse.

  Paul was parked directly behind me. I leaned briefly on a silver SUV, legs feeling a little wobbly, and then, once I felt strong enough to walk, I made my way to my car.

  6

  I sat alone in the interrogation room of the Pine Hills police station, foot tapping rhythmically beneath the table. Paul had promised he’d be right back, but that was over thirty minutes ago, and I was starting to get antsy.

  The room was identical to when I had last been inside it. The table, the plastic chairs, the old couch, and the forgotten dartboard. I would have liked to have sat on the couch and treated this like a social visit, but Paul had led me straight to one of the hard plastic chairs. While he hadn’t explicitly told me I had to sit in it, it was implied.

  Thankfully, not many people had seen me on my way into the station. Pine Hills is a small town, and the police department is likewise small. Both Buchannan and Paul were on duty that night, and they’d been at Vicki’s place. Only two other cops had been visible when I’d entered, and I didn’t know either. I’d never seen more than four or five on duty at once, and doubted there were ever many more. As I’ve said, there’s usually not that much crime in town, not until someone dies, which was happening far too often as of late.

  I picked at a hangnail, and tried to think pleasant thoughts as the seconds ticked by. What could be taking him so long? Paul had to know I was innocent. Cathy was a high-strung caffeine addict. Even if someone else was in the house at the time of her death, there was still a chance she’d died of natural causes.

  It was far too stressful to think someone could have gone as far as murder. I mean, it had happened in Vicki’s house. She used to live there. Alone. With only a cat for protection. And while Trouble’s claws should be registered deadly weapons, they would do little against a determined killer.

  Vicki could have been home with her parents. She didn’t own a gun. The only knives she owned were kitchen knives. And the bat had been a forgotten piece of the scenery, right up until Gina had picked it up to ward me off. If someone had broken in that night, it wasn’t like they’d had much to be worried about.

  After what felt like an eternity, the door opened, but it wasn’t Paul who stepped through the doorway.

  “Chief Dalton?” I asked, surprised. She looked bedraggled, as if someone had called her and woken her up just a few minutes ago. She was in uniform, but it looked decidedly unkempt. She was wearing her hat, despite the fact we were indoors, but from the hair poking out around it, I had a feeling she was trying to hide a serious case of bedhead.

  “Ms. Hancock.” She had a folder with her that she set down on the table before she took a seat across from me. She didn’t riffle through papers and photos like you’d see on TV, but she did fix me with an unhappy stare.

  “Where’s Paul?” I asked. No one else had come through the door, making me more worried than ever. I didn’t do anything!

  “Filling out some paperwork, I imagine.” Chief Dalton sighed. “How do you keep getting yourself mixed up in these situations?”

  “I wish I could tell you,” I said. “It’s terrible what happened to Cathy.”

  “It is.”

  “But I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Why were you there?”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This definitely didn’t feel like a friendly chat. It was feeling more and more like a true interrogation.

  “I wanted to talk to Gina and Frederick Patterson,” I said, keeping my voice as calm and neutral as possible, though I was a tangle of hyped-up emotions inside. “They’re staying at Vicki’s house with Cathy until the wedding.” I paused and frowned. “Well, were. All I wanted to do was ask them to stop messing with Vicki’s wedding plans. When I got there, I found Cathy on the floor
, unresponsive.”

  “And the candlestick?”

  “It was on the floor too, on the other side of the counter. I picked it up before I realized she was there.”

  Chief Dalton stared at me a moment before nodding. “I figure you’re telling the truth,” she said. “I don’t have all the details, let alone all the names, but we’ll work that out soon enough.” She flipped open the folder, read the page, and then closed it again. “EMTs are saying it is likely she was struck on the head by the candlestick you found. We can’t be sure until tests are run and so forth.”

  I gaped at her for a long couple of seconds before I could answer. “She was murdered?” The thought had crossed my mind of course, but hearing it confirmed was still a shock. And the killer might have still been there.

  “Well, I’d say it’s kind of hard to accidentally hit someone on the back of the head so hard, you cause them to choke to death.”

  “Wait. She choked?”

  “On the candies found at the scene.”

  “Espresso beans.”

  “What?”

  “They’re espresso beans. She was popping them like candy, and I guess since they are chocolate covered, they could be confused for candy.” My mouth snapped closed as I realized I was starting to babble. “So, you’re saying someone came in, hit her on the head, and caused her to choke? Why?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me.”

  “I don’t know!” I sat back and looked to the ceiling. There were hundreds of little holes in it, as if someone had sat here and tossed pencils into the soft tiles. “No one knew her very well. She came with Vicki’s parents and their friends.”

  “So, they knew her.”

  “Well, yeah, but they wouldn’t hurt her. I mean, they brought her to plan Vicki’s already planned wedding.”

  “She’s a wedding planner?”

  “Apparently the planner to the stars.” It was hard not to make air quotes as I said the last. “She’s why I went to see them. Cathy was talking about changing the flower arrangement, and the cake, and so on. Vicki didn’t want them changed. I was hoping if I talked to them about it, they’d lay off.” I paused, realizing how that made it sound. “You know I wouldn’t kill anyone over something like that, right?”