Death by Espresso

by Alex Erickson

  A frown crossed my features. Why else? Pine Hills is a small town. No one knows these people, other than knowing that they are actors. I doubted many even recognized them from their movies, since they mostly were only extras or leads in low-budget movies no one watched. They could have used Vicki’s wedding as a front, as a way to get everyone together. Could one of them have convinced Gina to bring Cathy along just so they could kill her?

  I glanced across the room at the three people sitting there, and wondered if it was all one big conspiracy. It would explain why so many people who knew so little about Vicki would come to her wedding.

  “You should talk to them,” Dad said. “See what you can learn. We’re right here and can back you up if need be.”

  “I don’t think they’d appreciate me interrupting,” I said. Especially not here, after I’d been caught eavesdropping on Lyric.

  “Then talk to them wherever they’re staying,” he said. “Get them alone, where they might let their guard down.”

  “Should you be encouraging her?” Laura asked.

  Dad shrugged. He had that mischievous look in his eye that meant he was willing to do it if I didn’t. “Why not? She’s good at it.”

  “Didn’t we agree it’s dangerous to talk to these people alone?” Laura asked. “If one of them did kill Cathy, they might not stop there. Having Krissy interrogate them would be like poking a sleeping bear, don’t you think?”

  He glanced from Laura, to me, and then back toward the Herrons. “I suppose you might be right.”

  “I already spoke to Lyric a couple of times,” I said. Now that Dad had suggested it, I was antsy to talk to them. Now wasn’t the time or place, but if I could catch them somewhere else, like at their hotels, or in Lyric’s case, the bed-and-breakfast, I might learn something. “I know where she’s staying.”

  “But not the other two?” Dad asked.

  “Nope.”

  He looked down into the remains of his fish, as if considering it, and then he abruptly stood. “Be right back.”

  I watched in horror as he strode across the restaurant, right up to Sage and Trey Herron. He spoke to each, and then shook everyone’s hand, and then continued talking. Even from where I sat, I could hear their laughter when he said something they found funny.

  “I can’t believe he’s doing this,” I said, waiting for the moment when he’d accuse one of them of murder. If someone went for a knife, there was no way I’d be able to stop them before they used it.

  “He’s bold, I’ll give him that,” Laura said. There was a healthy amount of affection in her voice.

  Dad spoke to the group for a few minutes more, shook each of their hands once again, and then walked back over to the table, a mile-wide smile on his face. He sat down and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “What was that all about?” I asked.

  “You’re to meet with Sage and Trey tomorrow morning.”

  “I have to work!”

  “Which is why you’re to meet with them at eight. I got their address for you. You don’t have to be in too early, do you?”

  “Well, no.” Jeff and Lena had been taking care of opening more often lately. Soon, Vicki and I wouldn’t have to help out at all, and we could focus our attention even more on the business side of things. And if we hired another person or two, all the better.

  “Then you can stop by before you go in.”

  “How did you . . . why did you . . . ?”

  He chuckled at my flustered state. I couldn’t believe he’d done that, walked right up to them and set up a meeting. “I told them you were curious about who they were, what they were interested in. In an effort to make sure the wedding goes off without a hitch, you wanted to talk to them, get to know them. They were hesitant at first, but I assured them you were only doing it for the wedding.”

  I looked to Laura, who shrugged. “You did say you’d like to talk to them at some point.”

  I groaned and looked skyward. “Thanks a lot.”

  “My pleasure.” Dad laughed and continued to eat as if nothing had happened.

  The Herrons were looking at me, as was Lyric. I could feel their eyes on me, which was making me nervous. I gave them a halfhearted wave and smile, but no one returned the gesture. When they turned away, I slumped in my seat.

  “This is going to be a disaster.” I took a bite of my food, but it no longer tasted as good as it had before.

  15

  If I was going to visit the Herrons, I needed to know more about them. When I woke the next morning, I immediately went for my phone and brought up Facebook. Since they were both minor celebrities, they’d have social media profiles of some sort. I typed in their names as I headed for the bathroom to brush my teeth.

  Both Sage and Trey had profiles, which were dedicated to their work. I scrolled through the list of movies they’d appeared in, and was impressed by the sheer number of them. Sure, their credits were often listed as “waitress” or “busboy,” but at least they were working. They also seemed to work together more often than not. At least two-thirds of their roles were in the same movies and television shows.

  Out of curiosity, I looked for The Nest of the Viper, and was surprised to see they’d both had tiny roles in the movie. Their parts were so small—listed only as “villager”—I doubted anyone would recognize them as Lance and Jacques had.

  It did make me wonder how close they were with Jacques Kenway, or if it was just a coincidence that they’d appeared in the same film. They might not have shared a scene, or interacted in any meaningful way. They might not even realize they shared an acting credit. I’d heard, in some films, even lead actors rarely interacted if they didn’t have scenes together. Maybe that was the case here, and it would come as a surprise to all of them if I told them they’d been in it together.

  I finished brushing my teeth and took a quick shower before going back to their pages. There was little in the way of personal information, which I guess shouldn’t have been much of a surprise. They wouldn’t want an obsessive fan showing up on their doorstep, begging for autographs, or worse, accusing them of ruining a character or something like that. You had to be careful about that sort of thing these days. Even Dad, as a writer, didn’t want people knowing where he lived.

  “Morning, Buttercup,” Dad said from the stove as I entered the kitchen. He was cooking again, and Laura was once more watching him with her chin in her hands, smiling. I got the feeling she did that quite a lot. Quite frankly, I didn’t blame her. What woman wouldn’t want a man to cook for her every day?

  “Morning,” I said. And before he could ask about breakfast, I added, “I’m going to grab some toast and coffee to go.”

  He nodded in understanding. “Sage and Trey said they’d be up by five, so you should be fine anytime.”

  I poured myself a travel mug of coffee, added a cookie, and then leaned against the counter while I waited for my toast to pop.

  “What was your impression of them?” I asked Dad. “I know you didn’t get to talk to them for long, but any insight might help.”

  He stirred some sort of egg-and-meat concoction that smelled absolutely blissful. “They were friendly enough,” he said. “They come off as a little standoffish, I guess, but compared to some of the other jokers I’ve met recently, they aren’t too bad. If I had to choose out of the people who’d come with Gina and Frederick to hang out with, I think they’d be the least offensive.”

  I got that impression too. “Do you think they could have killed Cathy?”

  He stopped stirring to look to the ceiling, as if he might find the answer there. “Honestly, I really don’t know. Seems anyone is capable of anything these days. If I were to take a guess based on what I know of them—which, granted, is very little—I’d say that no, they didn’t. But, as you know, you can’t always trust your gut. Sometimes, people do bad things without thinking about the consequences.”

  “Especially if they’re caught in a corner,” Laura put in.

&
nbsp; I wasn’t sure what kind of corner the Herrons might have been stuck in, but hey, that’s why I was paying them a visit.

  My toast popped. My mouth was watering from the smell of Dad’s cooking. I seriously considered putting off the Herrons so I could stay and eat, but decided that this might very well be my only chance to talk to them. I quickly buttered my toast, said my good-byes, and got into my car.

  I was surprised when I pulled up to the address Dad had given me to find a house, rather than a motel. It was nestled at the edge of town, surrounded on three sides by a man-made pond. Pine trees had been planted around the property, giving the place a sense of privacy, despite nearby houses. It was quiet, serene, and honestly not the kind of place you’d expect to find someone who was staying for only a couple of days.

  I checked the address to be sure, and found I was indeed in the right spot. I got out of my car, went to the door, and knocked, fully expecting the Herrons to have given Dad a bogus address.

  The door opened almost immediately, revealing Trey Herron, dressed as if he might be going golfing in a powder-blue polo, white khaki shorts, and a visor. He had a pink drink of some kind in one hand and was fiddling with his phone with the other.

  “Ah, Ms. Hancock,” he said, stepping aside. He tucked his phone into his pocket. “Sage is out back, if you’d care to join us.”

  “Thank you,” I said, stepping past Trey and into the residence.

  The inside of the house was much like the outside: serene and peaceful. No loud colors, no crazy themes. It was fully furnished, and as I passed the living room, I noted a photograph on the wall depicting a young couple holding a baby. They looked nothing like the Herrons, not unless Trey or Sage had some distant Asian relatives.

  “Nice place,” I said as we approached a sliding back door.

  “Found it online,” Trey said, not bothering to glance back at me. “Owners were looking for someone to rent it while they were overseas. We decided to pay for the full three months so we wouldn’t have to stay in a flea-ridden motel.”

  I wondered how such low-end actors could afford such a place, but then decided it was none of my business. “You’re staying for three months?” I asked instead.

  He chuckled. “Of course not. They might think we are, but I couldn’t imagine staying here for that long.” He opened the door and stepped outside onto a concrete, covered patio. “Sage. Our guest is here.”

  Sage was dressed much like her husband, although her polo was pink, as was her visor. She was sitting in a chair, past the patio and in the yard, an umbrella keeping the sun off her. She was looking out over the clear, blue water, which rippled in the breeze. It made me wonder why they simply hadn’t registered at Ted and Bettfast since they could have had the same sort of thing there. It would have been a whole lot cheaper, and they wouldn’t have had to clean up after themselves.

  Then again, Sage and Trey could very well value their privacy enough they wouldn’t want the hassle of dealing with the staff at the bed-and-breakfast. Not everyone wants to be waited on hand and foot either.

  “Ms. Hancock,” Sage said, paying me only the briefest of glances.

  “You can call me Krissy.”

  She smiled, but said nothing.

  “We were leaving for brunch soon,” Trey said, hinting that he wanted me to hurry this along.

  I had no problem with that, other than the fact that most people would still consider it breakfast at this hour. Looking around, we were pretty isolated. If they were indeed Cathy’s killers, they could kill me and dump me in the pond without anyone knowing.

  Well, anyone but Dad and Laura, who knew I was here, but weren’t in a position to help if the Herrons turned suddenly violent. Already, I was doing a pretty poor job of doing all my investigations in public.

  “How do you like Pine Hills?” I asked, deciding to start small. Get them talking, see if anything slipped.

  Sage made a face. “It’s rather simple and boring.”

  Trey took a sip from his drink. “There’s nothing to do,” he said. “We like a little excitement now and again. Here . . .” He shrugged. “We just sit around. It’s nice to get away sometimes, but after a while, it gets tedious.”

  I supposed murder wasn’t exactly the kind of excitement they were looking for. It definitely wasn’t for everybody. “I like it,” I said. “It’s relaxing most of the time. I used to live in a pretty big city and got tired of all the bustle. Pine Hills is definitely more my speed.”

  “If you say so,” Sage said.

  I moved on, remembering that I was supposed to be asking about them so I could get to know them better for the wedding. “I checked you two out online and saw you had quite a lot of movie credits under your belts. You were in one with Jacques Kenway as well, weren’t you?”

  “The Nest of the Viper,” Trey said. “Dreadful movie.”

  So, they did know they’d been in the film together. “Did you know him back then?”

  “Not really,” he said. “Other than our friendship with Gina and Frederick, we don’t run in the same circles. We like our excitement, but he’s a little too wild for our tastes.”

  “He thinks he’s better than us,” Sage added. “He’s younger, sure, but that means little in the long run. We have experience.”

  “You don’t really like him, then?”

  Sage and Trey glanced at one another. He was the one to reply. “We don’t know him well enough to say.” The diplomatic answer.

  “What about Cathy Carr?” I asked as casually as could be. I watched them both carefully, and wasn’t disappointed with their reactions.

  Sage visibly flinched, while Trey immediately took a long drink from his glass. I waited them both out. It was clear they were both stalling, but was that because they had something to hide, or because they didn’t want to speak ill of the dead?

  Finally, Trey spoke. “She wasn’t one of our favorite people.”

  Sage shook her head, and then hugged herself. “I have a chill.”

  Trey went to his wife and put an arm around her. “We really should leave for brunch.”

  I refused to let them off that easily. I was here to learn what I could about their relationship with Cathy, and so far, I hadn’t been told anything I didn’t already know. “I heard she planned your wedding and did a poor job of it.”

  “It wasn’t the planning that was the problem,” Trey said.

  “Well, not the entire problem,” Sage amended. “The cake was the wrong color by a half a shade.”

  “Which wasn’t entirely her fault,” Trey said. It sounded like they’d had this argument before.

  “It didn’t match the scheme. I was very specific on what I wanted, and yet she let them serve us a cake that stood out like a sore thumb!”

  “What was your issue with her?” I asked quickly, before they could get completely off topic and devolve into an argument.

  Sage and Trey shared yet another look before he started speaking. “We really don’t want to talk about her now that she’s dead. You understand, right? There’s no sense bringing up something no one can do anything about now.”

  “And it happened so recently,” Sage added, though there was some heat in her voice, like she wasn’t too terribly upset Cathy had been killed.

  “We wouldn’t want you to think we could have had anything to do with her death.”

  I stared at them in silence. They were already doing a good job of babbling, telling me they had something to say. If I waited long enough, I was sure one of them would tell me what it was. It was one of the things I’d picked up from watching crime shows on TV.

  Sage withered under my stare, and was the first to break. “It was my jewelry,” she said.

  Trey grimaced, closed his eyes for a moment, shoulders slumping, and then added, “It came up missing.”

  Bingo. I couldn’t believe I’d guessed right. “And you think Cathy Carr took it?”

  “Oh, I know she did,” Sage said. “She was the only one in that
wing of the house when I realized it was missing. It was small pieces, things you’d think I wouldn’t easily miss. But I noticed, all right. They were my mother’s earrings!”

  “Could someone else have snuck in and taken them?” I asked, excited now. If Cathy was stealing from her clients, it would make her a target. “Did you have cleaners or other guests who might have come in and taken them when no one was looking?”

  “We did, but it’s unlikely any of them had an opportunity,” Trey said. “The room was on the third floor and no one else was permitted up there, and that included our cleaners.”

  “She took them, even though she never admitted it.” Sage clenched a fist, and took a deep, calming breath.

  “Is that what you fought about at the airport?”

  “How did you know about that?” Trey asked.

  I merely smiled and touched my nose, as if I’d somehow uncovered it on my own, not that I’d had someone simply tell me.

  “It was,” he admitted after a moment. “She steadfastly denied it, but I’m positive she took them. I’ve talked to others about her and they’ve said the same thing: she’s guilty. We aren’t the only ones who suspects Cathy has taken things. I wouldn’t be surprised if her thefts were the reason she’s dead now.”

  Nor would I.

  “I really wish we could put it all behind us,” Sage said. “Though I do hope that when someone goes through her things, they find those earrings and return them to where they belong. I truly would like them back.”

  I had a feeling the earrings were long gone, whether Cathy had taken them or not, but didn’t say so. You didn’t steal jewelry to wear it.

  “Thank you for letting me know,” I said. “Cathy’s murder is terrible, and I hope the police figure out who did it soon.” I felt as if I was getting closer to the truth, though I still wasn’t sure who had the most to gain by Cathy’s death.

  When neither Trey or Sage showed much reaction to my last comment, I added, “Do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt her?”

  “She probably did it to herself,” Sage said, though she didn’t clarify whether she meant Cathy’s actions had caused her death, or that she thought it had been an accident.