“Is everything okay in there?” he asked slowly. He looked at me as if he thought he might have misjudged me and that he very well might be looking at someone capable of murder.
“My cat,” I said, slipping on my shoes. There was nothing I could do about the fur now. I wasn’t about to lift the hem in front of Paul to check the damage. Here’s hoping our date doesn’t progress past the eating stage. I blushed as my brain tried to turn the thought into something far different. “He’s trying to kill me, I think.”
Paul frowned. “A cat?” He gave a shudder. “I’m more of a dog person. I have two huskies.”
“I like dogs, too,” I said . . . like a dope. I glanced back toward the hall. There was a nervousness to my voice when I asked, “Can we get going now?” Who knew when the cat would make his next attempt on my life?
Paul stepped aside and I slipped out of the house before Misfit could make a bigger nuisance of himself. I closed the door firmly behind me and then turned to see Paul grinning at me.
“You look nice,” he said, carefully keeping his eyes on my face, rather than scanning up and down my body like I knew he wanted to do. I mean, he was a guy, wasn’t he?
“Thanks.” It was then I noticed he was wearing a simple polo shirt and jeans. “You too.” I felt my face flame. Boy, was I ever overdressed.
“I figured we could grab something to eat, if that’s okay with you?” he asked as he led me to his car. “I probably should have mentioned it on the phone so you knew not to have dinner beforehand.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I figured you’d want to have something to eat.” My mind flashed back to my earlier thought. I was thankful it was dark enough outside so that Paul couldn’t see my blush. “I’m starving.”
As if to prove the point, my stomach grumbled.
Paul laughed, opened the car door for me, and then went around to the driver’s side. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Neither of us seemed to have much to say as he backed out of my driveway and onto the road. I really wish I would have had time to run back in and get changed—preferably without getting assaulted by a demonic feline. As it was, I just had to make the best of things. It wasn’t a sin to dress nicely on a date, even if I could have stuck with something a bit more comfortable.
“I hope you don’t mind sandwiches,” Paul said after a few minutes. “I didn’t know what you liked and, really, there isn’t much selection in Pine Hills. I suppose we could have headed out of town to go to a real restaurant, but with everything that’s happened lately, I wanted to be sure to stick close to home just in case I’m needed.”
“Do you think you will be?”
Paul shrugged. “Chief Dalton can be pretty demanding when she wants to be.”
I giggled. “You call your mom ‘Chief.’ That’s cute.”
We pulled into a mostly full parking lot as he answered. “It’s best that way. We’re a small force here. There’s no real need for us to be any bigger. But that means we have to be careful so that the others don’t think she’s playing favorites. I sometimes wonder if maybe we’re a little too casual and a little too small for our own good.”
He parked in a space almost right in front of the door. My entire body groaned in protest when I saw the sign: J&E’s Banyon Tree. Great.
“I hope this is okay?” Paul asked. He looked at me hopefully.
I gave him my warmest smile. “It’s perfect.”
We got out of the car and headed for the diner. When I’d first heard about the Banyon Tree from Rita, I’d assumed it would be this little place on the side of the road where the chairs were plastic and the food smelled of grease on top of more grease. When we entered the quaint little building, I found myself surprised to find sturdy wooden chairs placed around solid tables. The counter was long and barlike, with stools placed at regular intervals along its front. Rockabilly music played over the speakers overhead. Nearly every table was taken by smiling patrons.
A waitress met us at the door and led us to the last remaining booth. I kept my eyes peeled for Judith or Eddie Banyon, but if they were at the diner, they were keeping out of sight.
“The ham and Swiss is great here,” Paul said as we sat down. He ordered a Coke to my Sprite.
The waitress gave us both a winning smile before winking at Paul. She then spun on her heel in a flurry of curls to grab our drinks. She glanced back once, quite obviously grinning at my date.
“Come here often?” I asked, feeling a little out of place. It wasn’t the first time I felt like a square peg trying to fit into a round hole.
“Most every night,” he said, but then hurriedly added, “but always alone. Until now.” He looked shyly away.
I scanned the menu and found a variety of sandwiches and burgers. There were the usual chicken fingers and fish and chips as well. It was quite clearly diner food. However, if the smells coming from the back were any indication, it was good diner food.
The waitress returned and Paul ordered his ham and Swiss. I went ahead and got the same, trusting in his judgment.
“I really should have thought this out better,” he said when our waitress—SHANNON, her nametag said—left. “It was sort of out of the blue, really.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “I kind of like the place.” I glanced around, hoping fate wouldn’t come knock me upside the head in the form of Judith Banyon. It would have been just my luck for her to arrive to kick me out before I’d had a chance to get to know whether or not I was making a mistake.
Paul smiled. “I’m glad. And I promise the food is worth the noise.”
It was pretty loud, but I didn’t mind. There was a coziness to the place you couldn’t find much anywhere else. Back home you had to be careful how you acted, what you wore, when you went out. Here it felt like you could just be you and have a blast. No wonder Vicki had chosen to settle down in such an out-of-the-way town. It was nothing like the bustle of our former lives.
Our sandwiches arrived with a side of coleslaw. Shannon asked if we needed anything else, to which we both answered in the negative. Then she gave Paul a little finger wave and vanished back behind the counter.
I raised my eyebrows at him.
“She loves to tease me,” he said. A ring of red crept up his neck. “Always asks me why I never bring a date. Now that I have, she isn’t going to let me get through it without teasing me mercilessly.”
I took a bite of my sandwich to keep from saying something stupid. I’d never known a place where you could go to eat and actually know the people serving you. I was used to everyone being strangers, even your neighbors. It was odd to think that if I stuck around town long enough, I might be treated just the same.
“Look,” Paul said, setting down his ham and Swiss without taking a bite. “I have something to get off my chest.”
“Okay.” My hand shook as I picked up my Sprite. Was this going to be the big letdown? Had he only asked to go out with me because he thought that was what his mom would want? Was he already secretly engaged to a supermodel and was about to elope to Hawaii with her?
“When we first discovered your cup in Brendon’s office, I instantly suspected that you might have been somehow involved in his death.”
I very nearly choked on my Sprite. “What? You thought I’d actually kill a guy I didn’t even know?”
“No,” he said hurriedly. “I didn’t think you did it on purpose, but thought that maybe you weren’t careful and had accidently poisoned him. You were new. You didn’t know about his allergy. Mistakes happen.”
The last made me think of the conversation Mason and Heidi had had the day after Brendon’s death. I almost brought it up, but decided against it. I had no proof either was involved. I didn’t want to start pointing fingers and making things worse for the two of them. They were already having a hard-enough time as it was.
“Anyway,” Paul went on, “I just wanted to get it off my chest. Ever since I talked to you the first time, it had been bothering me. I didn’t want y
ou to think I thought you were careless or a suspect or anything.”
“It’s fine,” I said, and I meant it. “You didn’t know me. I probably would have thought the same about you, especially if you owned a store called Death by Coffee and then someone had died after drinking said coffee.”
Paul sighed as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He looked as if he was ready to drop the subject, but I wasn’t about to let it end there. His bringing up Brendon made me think of my talk with Tessa and how I was sure all of the answers might very well be found within Brendon’s closed-up office.
We might be on a date now, but what other chance, really, would I get to ask him?
“Did you know Brendon had a mistress?” I asked. I took a bite of coleslaw to hide my nervousness. Not surprisingly, it was fantastic.
“I did,” he said. “I also know he had a second one.” He leaned forward and grinned. “Turns out it was his secretary. How cliché can you get?”
Cliché or not, I found it interesting. I tried to remember anything I could about the secretary I’d seen when I’d chased Mason into Lawyer’s Insurance, but I came up blank. I wasn’t even sure what she looked like. Some detective I’d make.
“Do you know which one?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound like I was pumping him for information. I mean, that was exactly what I was doing, but I didn’t want to make it too obvious.
“There’s only the one,” Paul said. “Beth Milner has been with the Lawyers for about a year now. I think she started seeing Brendon within a few months of getting the job.” He glanced around to make sure no one else was listening before going on. “In fact, I think she got the job because he planned on sleeping with her from the start.”
I was really starting to think that maybe Brendon’s death wasn’t such a bad thing. The guy was slime, yet I couldn’t let it go. Whoever killed him—and I was pretty sure it was a murder—might not stop at one man.
With a sigh Paul finished off his own coleslaw and set his fork aside. “I really shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
“It’s not that. I don’t know . . .” He frowned. “If this was a bigger department, in a bigger city, I’d probably get fired for talking about an active case, even if we’re thinking accident at the moment. This is mostly gossip and all, but still . . .”
I felt horrible for dragging out the conversation, but if there is one thing I’m not, it’s a quitter. When I start something, I see it through until the end, even if it might ruin any chance I had with the hunkiest guy in town.
The next thing I said was probably the worst thing I could have asked of him, yet I couldn’t stop myself. I had to know. The idea just sort of formed and lodged itself in my mouth. There was no way I could part my lips without it sneaking out.
“Do you think you could take me to Brendon’s office?”
Paul stopped eating. He swallowed and took a long sip of Coke, studying me the entire time. The silence started to get to me so I began babbling.
“It’s nothing, really,” I said. “My dad is a writer and he wrote mysteries, so I sort of grew up interested in this sort of thing. I just want to go in and look around, see if I can figure out what happened, like all those great detectives you read about do. We don’t have to touch anything, and I promise not to mess up the scene. I just want to see it.”
“I don’t know. . . .”
I hated myself, but I didn’t want to lose this chance. I batted my eyes at him and leaned forward suggestively. I didn’t run a finger over his cheek, or make “do me” eyes at him exactly, but it was a near thing.
God, I’m such a jerk sometimes.
“Please,” I asked in my sweetest voice. “It would make me very, very happy if you would do this for me.”
Paul sucked in a breath and a bead of sweat formed on his brow. He looked around the room, cleared his throat, and then smiled at me.
“Okay,” he said, voice conspiratorially low. “Once we’re done eating and it gets darker out, I’ll take you.”
“Thank you,” I said. Deep down, I knew I’d have to make this up to him. In fact, I was probably going to have to say the Hail Mary a few hundred times. I could already feel the heat tickling at the soles of my feet.
Paul wiped the sweat from his brow and started eating. “I hope this doesn’t come back to bite me on the ass.” He said it with a smile, but I could tell he was nervous.
Not that I blamed him. I was thinking the same thing.
12
It’s hard to walk quietly in high-heeled shoes.
I didn’t want to walk in my bare feet, so I clacked along as quietly as I could. We weren’t exactly sneaking, per se, but we didn’t want anyone to notice us, either. There were a few other pedestrians walking the street, though most of them paid little attention to us. Pine Hills had a tendency to close down by seven o’clock precisely every night, meaning there wasn’t much else to do but break in somewhere you aren’t supposed to go.
The wait had been nearly unbearable. We’d finished our meals, sat around for a little while, nervously talking about nothing, before getting into his car and driving around for another hour. I think both of us were waiting for the other one to change his or her mind so we wouldn’t actually have to go through with this. In the end neither he nor I was willing to voice these doubts out loud.
For a date it wasn’t very fulfilling. We hardly talked and we didn’t look at each other much at all. There was a nervous tension to the air that did all of our talking for us. We both knew that if someone saw us breaking in, our gooses would be cooked.
Of course, we weren’t exactly breaking into the place. Paul had a key. The department had requested one from Raymond Lawyer, who had complied, though he did it loudly with a lot of yelling, if Paul was to be believed. Why he had the key on him was beyond me, but I was just thankful he did. I doubted Chief Dalton would have handed it over if we’d been forced to ask.
And you know what? I truly believe that Paul Dalton would have asked for it. He would have gone right up to his mom, his boss, and asked for something that would get us both into some serious trouble if anyone discovered what we were up to. What other guy would risk not only his job, but the wrath of his mother, and spending time in jail, all because a girl asked him?
What I really wanted to do was take his hand. It would look natural enough, though it would definitely start rumors. I was pretty sure any rumors that did get started would end up in Patricia Dalton’s ear in about five minutes flat. With what we were about to do, I was hoping we’d fly completely under the radar, meaning I had to be on my best behavior.
We reached Lawyer’s Insurance without anyone stopping us or asking us what we were up to. Across the street Death by Coffee was dark and empty. In fact, most of the buildings were dark by now. There were a few lights on in the rare apartments above some of the shops, and there were a few cars that coasted down the street. While no one appeared to be watching us, I knew appearances could be deceiving. Anyone could be sitting inside one of those dark buildings, watching and waiting. I didn’t believe for a second that Eleanor Winthrow was the only nosy gossip in town.
Paul moved to the door while I kept watch. It was kind of exciting in a way. It was like we were in a movie, sneaking around in the dark while a killer was on the loose, more than likely watching us through the lens of a high-powered rifle.... Okay, maybe that wasn’t exciting as much as it was terrifying.
The door clicked open. Paul ushered me inside before entering behind me. He closed the door and flicked on a flashlight he’d taken from his car. He shone it around before we headed for the door to Brendon Lawyer’s office. It was closed and there was no yellow tape, further reminding me the police weren’t actually considering his death anything more than an accident. Why bother preserving the scene if there was nothing to investigate?
Even if they had put up tape, I doubted Raymond Lawyer would have left it strung up all over his
office building. He hadn’t taken any time off after his son’s death, so anything that interrupted his business would surely be unwelcome.
My hands were balled into fists as we approached the door. I really wished I had a flashlight of my own, but Paul had only had the one. I wanted something I could hold and maybe use as a weapon if the killer was lurking around the small office for some reason. I knew it was unlikely, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were walking into a trap of some kind.
The urge to reach over and grab Paul’s hand was stronger than ever. From the way the light shook, I could tell he could use the support as well.
Paul was wearing black gloves, further increasing the feeling we were doing something terribly wrong. He turned the knob and pushed the door open. The blinds were closed, leaving the room pitch-black. Paul shone the light around inside before stepping through the doorway.
I followed him in, wishing I had gloves of my own. They might have hidden the sweat glistening on my palms and kept me from digging my fingernails in too deep. To say I was nervous was a serious understatement.
The office looked as if no one had bothered cleaning the place up after the body had been removed. The office chair was pushed away from the desk, more than likely by the paramedics who had rushed in to save Brendon’s life. The light played over a stain on the floor I instantly took for blood, but quickly realized was spilled coffee.
“I’m not sure there is much else to see.” Paul spoke at a whisper as he shone the light around the room. “We took the coffee cup and his lunch from the room, but everything else should still be here.”
I walked farther into the room, strengthened by his voice. Paul kept the light in my general direction as I moved through the office. I probably would have bounced off every table in the room without it.
“Do you think we should turn on the light?” I asked. The gloom was really getting to me, despite his flashlight. It felt like every shadow hid something horrible. Whether it was a murderer or a feral rat, I didn’t know. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to know.
Death by Coffee Page 10
