Hot Coffee Iced Santa

by Cam Larson

  I should have been used to Daniel playing the devil's advocate. He had done that once before with me on another case of murder near Roasted Love. Though his method sometimes irritated me, he had a way of bringing everything to reason. We went on to other employees.

  "Frank wasn't the only dishwasher that worked in the kitchen," I reminded him. "There were also Chef's helpers in and out. There is the Chef himself. What is his name?"

  "Steven introduced me once when he first hired him. I think his name is Peter. Seems like he has an Irish last name but I don't recall that right now."

  "Maybe the Chef lured him into the freezer to help him. Or is Peter Whoever strong enough to pull him in there?"

  "He is tall and looks able enough. But you have to remember that Steven said when he left for the night, Frank Duvall was there alone. Frank could have left the door ajar with the intention of coming back later for some reason."

  I didn't want to say it at this point, but it was Steven's word against no one alive to verify that. After an hour, we hadn't made much headway but I had a lot to think about. I stood up and told Daniel I had to get home. When he walked me out to my car the snow was coming down heavier.

  "I shouldn't have kept you this long. It looks like the streets are getting bad. Do you want me to drive you home? You can get your car tomorrow when the streets are cleared."

  "I hear the snowplows in the distance. Thanks, but I'll be all right. I have snow tires on and four wheel drive. I learned the hard way my first winter here." I laughed, remembering. "When I first moved north, I skidded all over the roads on my regular southern tires. I didn't know that you had to have snow tires on your car in New York. Something else I found out the hard way." I told him how I was stopped when I skidded onto a sidewalk and couldn't get out of a snowdrift.

  Daniel smiled and leaned toward me. He kissed me goodnight and hurried back to his warmth. "Drive safely and call me when you get home," he said over his shoulder. I saw him standing in the window looking out until I pulled away and successfully navigated onto the street.

  The next morning the ground was covered with snow but streets were cleared for everyone who had someplace to go. I arrived at Roasted Love on time. A few customers were there drinking their early morning expressos before going to work. When I clocked in, I noticed the newspaper on the edge of the counter in the kitchen.

  "Laila, will you take the paper out to the front when you go?" asked Jacob. "I haven't had time to get it out for the customers yet."

  "Sure," I said.

  My eyes caught the headlines about the dead Santa found in the freezer at Steven's Steakhouse. I sat down at the small table near the back of the kitchen and began reading the article.

  "That was too bad what happened at that restaurant," said Jacob. He pointed to the article I couldn't take my eyes from. "Go ahead and read it if you haven't seen it, Laila."

  I nodded my head and started reading. Frank Duvall's name was mentioned and his age of fifty-five. It stated he was an evening dishwasher at the restaurant. The reporter who wrote the article mentioned there were no suspects but the police were following every lead. In the meantime, Steven's Steakhouse would be closed for two days.

  There was nothing in the article that said anything about the broken lock on the freezer door. No signs of forceful entry to the restaurant were mentioned either. The cops were giving out selective information.

  I thought about Steven Landers. Two days would hurt his revenue. Without a doubt, he had a huge dilemma on his hands. I wondered if he had any idea who could have murdered his dishwasher, aka Santa.

  I took the daily paper out to the front of the coffee house and laid it on the counter. We had most of the holiday decorations up but there was more to do. When customers thinned out the next afternoon, I knew how I would spend my break. I noticed two new paintings were hanging on the wall to the left of the entrance. Jacob was successful in helping fledgling artists in getting known. Without a doubt, people would purchase nearly all that were on the walls. Christmas neared and anyone with an eye for art would have a hard time passing them by.

  That evening I left work at the same time as Jacob and Lily. Jacob glanced at my tires. "It looks like you have a low front tire, Laila," he said. "You may want to get that checked. I can follow you to the convenience store and air it up for you."

  I agreed with him. I didn't want to have a flat tire in this weather. Once the tire was aired, Jacob and I parted company. I needed to get home. Thor waited for me and I knew he would be hungry, as usual. A block from home, I felt the car pull to the right. Streets were cleared and I had a sinking feeling it was the tire. When I pulled to the side of the road and got out, I discovered the tire was completely flat. A nail or something must have caused it to lose air. Digging for my cell, an SUV pulled up behind me.

  "Laila, looks like you have some car trouble," said Steven Landers.

  I was too shocked to ask what he was doing in the neighborhood. Had he followed me? Maybe he was at the convenience store when Jacob aired the tire. Or, I thought, he could have followed me all the way from Roasted Love. The eerie feeling that swept over me couldn't be helped. I managed to stumble words out of my mouth.

  "I'm calling Daniel. He is supposed to be at my house tonight anyway," I lied.

  "Well, let me help you before you freeze to death," he said.

  I thought those words were a poor choice considering his recent problem at his restaurant. I opened the trunk of my car and he quickly pulled the spare out. Then he knelt in the snow and in a few minutes had the good tire on. When he stood up, he reached for my car keys.

  "I'll put the bad tire in your trunk."

  Without another word, he had the keys and the tire was in the trunk. When he handed my car keys back to me, I thought he spent a few seconds too long when he folded his fingers around my hand. Once in his SUV, he turned around in a driveway and drove back in the opposite direction.

  I could feel sweat on the palms of my hands under wool gloves.

  Chapter Four

  When I started my shift at Roasted Love the next day, I was still a little shaken. Something wasn't right about how Steven had shown up a block from my house. I wasn't sure I would tell Daniel just yet about my encounter with his best friend.

  "I like that winter scene, don't you, Laila?"

  Lily stood behind me admiring one of the newest works at Roasted Love. I had to agree with her. The artist had captured the wooded area on the north side of West River. The receding sunlight displayed varied sunset hues on the frozen pond in the background. Once more, my thoughts went back to Frank Duvall's frozen body in the freezer at Steven's Steakhouse and Steven Landers' sudden appearance on my street the night before.

  "Let's get our break in," I said to Lily. "It will have to be a short one. The decorating has to be finished today or we'll be into next year before it is done."

  "I'll help you when I'm not serving a customer," she said. "I'll get the ribbon and greenery for the counter. Are we putting up stockings this year?"

  "They didn't look so good," I said. "I don't have time to get more. And since I don't sew, it looks like we'll skip them this year."

  Before I knew it, Lily had decorated the counter with a complete festive look. I had forgotten how artistic she could be. Next she spent her time between handing me garlands and serving the few customers in the shop. A gust of cold wind swept into the foyer. I was climbing off the ladder when the door opened. I glanced around. The dark hair and muscular frame was very familiar.

  "Hi, Laila," called Daniel. "You, too, Lily." He brushed snow off his pant legs and brushed his boots back and forth on the mat. "Do you want any help with that ladder?"

  "I'm just about finished," I said. "You timed it just right."

  His laughter filled the room. "I have a way of doing things like that. Can you grab a coffee or something else you like? I have pictures you may want to see."

  Lily told us she could handle the shop. I looped the end of the la
st garland around the thin nail and climbed down. Lily folded the ladder and carried it away. Daniel and I sat across from one another as the steam rose from his latte and my cappuccino. He pulled a large envelope from a thin briefcase.

  "I kept them in here so they wouldn't get wet," he explained. "These are pictures some of the employees at Steven's Steakhouse took from inside the freezer."

  I leaned forward in my chair. This would give me a chance to have a closer look at the crime scene. For the first time, I took my time looking at the outside lock on the freezer in the first photo he pushed toward me. The more I studied it, I was sure the murderer had jimmied it with a strong instrument of some kind. I knew from working at Roasted Love that tools were kept for minor repairs. I tried to think about what tool was in our toolbox that would do this kind of damage. Nothing came to my mind. Daniel slid a photo of the inside of the freezer across the table. It looked the same as the day I saw it except there was no body on the floor.

  "Do you see anything that may give a clue?" he asked me.

  I shook my head no. "Not at first glance," I said.

  Again, I studied the photo. My eyes skimmed the shelves of frozen food on the left. Everything seemed to be in order. I looked at the far wall and floor.

  "What is that on the floor in back?" I asked. When Daniel looked blank, I said, "It looks like some dark spots on the floor." I bent down to get a better look. "Look at that!" My voice drew the eyes of the five customers in the shop to our table. I lowered my voice. "The spots turn into a blob. It looks like there are spots and then a long line of the same stuff."

  "What do you make of that?" said Daniel.

  "I think Frank was killed near the far wall of the freezer and then dragged to the door. The dark areas could be his blood. How was he killed?"

  "I don't know the manner of his death. But if you are on the right track, maybe he was killed with the same instrument used to damage the lock on the freezer door."

  "I wonder why he was dragged to the door," I said. "Why not just leave him where he was murdered?"

  "It could have been a last minute decision of some kind. Maybe the murderer thought it was too risky to drag him much farther," said Daniel. "He left him there when he changed his mind."

  The adrenalin surged inside me. We discussed the possibilities of someone who worked at the Steakhouse could have done it. I ruled Cassie Johnson out. "She couldn't have dragged him like that," I said. I didn't mention thoughts of Steven Landers.

  "She could have had help," said Daniel. "Or there is the chance that Frank let someone in. It could have been someone he knew and was all right letting in the door."

  "That doesn't explain why he was wearing the Santa suit."

  I shuffled the pictures again. Other than the stains on the freezer floor and the broken lock, things looked normal.

  "Have you thought that the stains you are looking at are animal blood stains? It is where they keep frozen meat," said Daniel. His eyes told me even he knew that was a weak premise.

  "I doubt they freeze dripping meat," I said. "They would have it wrapped the right way to keep anything from seeping onto the shelves or the floor. And, what about risking contamination? I'm sure it is Frank's blood."

  My statements were said with finality. This time the devil's advocate missed the mark. My eyes locked with the dark ones across from me. The recurring humor was evident. Then he grew serious.

  "They haven't charged Steven yet," said Daniel. "There is no doubt they are seriously suspecting him. He has some things on his side, though. He told me he had overheard Frank and Cassie arguing about something."

  His hesitation caused impatience within me. That wasn't lost on Daniel.

  "The only thing Steven heard was Cassie's voice. She told Frank she would kill him if he didn't keep it a secret. He had no idea what the ‘it' was and that's all he picked up on."

  "I hope he gave the police that bit of information," I said.

  "He didn't want to get Cassie into trouble. He is sure she wouldn't actually carry out a threat like that. It's like Steven said. ‘We all make threats like that one time or another when we argue.'"

  I could recall times when I may have thought that, but never said it out loud.

  "Steven said Cassie has a tendency to get a little melodramatic at times. He just knew she was mad at Frank for some reason."

  "I don't have any ideas on that but I still think Steven should have told the cops about it. I wonder what makes them so sure Frank didn't accidentally let the door close. He may have locked himself in there without meaning to."

  "If that's the case, then what about your blood evidence?" said Daniel. "Frank has worked in restaurant kitchens for the past six years, according to Steven. I doubt he would ever make a mistake like that. Most restaurants have a mechanism on the inside of freezers to free anyone who is caught inside. You have to remember the lock was tampered with outside the freezer. That would mess up any means of getting out. That tells us that it was done on purpose so no one would find Frank too soon. The murderer had to have time to cover evidence that might implicate him."

  "That's true. He gave himself all night and into the next afternoon to cover his tracks."

  The man across from me wrinkled his forehead. "I'm thinking of postponing my trip home a few days. I can't leave Steven like this."

  I reached for his hands that were clasped on the edge of the table. "You need to get home to see your family. You are long overdue for that." I knew Daniel had to make amends to his father for something. Prolonging that wasn't a good idea since there had been a time when they were very close. "I don't leave for another week. I'll take over for you. I promise I'll see that Steven gets fair treatment."

  I knew I had to tell him about Steven showing up from nowhere and changing the tire. I just wasn't sure now was the time. He was so loyal to his friend. Daniel smiled at me and his face smoothed out once more. He made me promise to keep him informed more than once a day. I promised him that every time something opened up in the case I would call him first.

  Daniel resigned himself to my promise. He really had no choice. His family was more than excited to see him from what he had told me. I was sure his father was included in that. Steven Landers would be fine. He had nothing to worry about if he was innocent of murdering his dishwasher. The only thing that kept me looking for clues that would exonerate him was the fact I cared about Daniel and Steven was his friend. I was doing it for him.

  We stood up. I had to get to work and finish the day at Roasted Love. Daniel had to get packed. He told me he was going to call Steven. "I'll tell him to call you if anything comes up," said the Paramedic. I shuddered but didn't object.

  When he left the coffee shop, I rejoined Lily. We finished the day together with the help of Jacob and Lily's son, Eddie. We all left at the same time. I had Christmas shopping to do. Jacob promised to go by my apartment and take care of feeding Thor. He and my dog were best buddies.

  I headed for the specialty jewelry shop a couple of blocks from Roasted Love. I had seen a necklace I thought would be perfect for my mother. She never left the house without her jewelry on. This one was a Crystal Cube Firejewel necklace, and one I knew she would love. I drove my car down to the other end of the Piazza and parked in the only space left at the front door of the shop. I moved between customers until I got to the display case near the register. The crystal stones shone under the lights. I breathed a sigh of relief that it was still there.

  "Hello, Laila," said Melissa, the shop owner. "I see you are looking at the necklace again."

  "Yes, and I'm buying this time."

  I watched as she opened the glass display cabinet and placed the necklace across the surface. The necklace would be perfect for any outfit my mother wore. Melissa offered to wrap it for me and I accepted. Gift wrapping would take more time than I wanted to spend on Christmas. Besides, I would never get it to look like Melissa's. When she returned with it, I complimented her on the artistic way the box looked. My nex
t stop was the mall.

  At the center of the mall I noticed a Santa sitting in a large chair. Two elves were on either side of him and a painted mural gave the backdrop for them. It looked like the North Pole in the distance and Santa's sleigh and reindeer were in the forefront of the picture.

  My attention was brought back to the real scene in front of me. Children lined up waiting their turn with Santa. The child on Santa's lap puckered up, on the verge of tears. Santa told the little girl not to cry and that he only brought toys to children who were good. Those remarks were all it took for the irate mother to yell at Santa.

  "She is good. What crazy Santa would say such a thing?" she screamed at him.

  The little girl burst into tears. Down the line more children could be heard sobbing. Parents were either scolding their children or consoling them. It was then that I realized Santas who tried to make children happy during holiday time had a hard time of it. As for me, the hassle alone would motivate me to get another job. The whole scenario made me understand how people stressed out during this season. It would only take one upset parent to take it all out on a defenseless man trying to give some cheer at Christmastime.

  Maybe a child's parent had gotten mad at Frank. Overly-protective parents could take things personal when it came to their children. I had observed that on occasion when in stores or restaurants. I moved away from the unhappy events surrounding Santa and finished my evening at a nearby bookstore. My father loved books about past wars across the world. I knew the one to get him so it didn't take long; then to finish his gift at the hardware store.

  Next, I drove to Steven's Steakhouse with the intentions of asking employees if any parents disliked Frank for the way he treated children. I pushed aside negative thoughts about the owner. I was taking this case on for one reason only. That was because Daniel was adamant on proving his best friend innocent of murder.