A Killer Latte

by Tonya Kappes

  “Fine.” She sucked in a deep breath, not happy with his suggestions.

  She turned around on the balls of her feet and stormed off with her fists down at her side. She turned around right as she was leaving the coffee shop. “Roxy, I’ll see you soon.” She huffed out the door.

  “What was that about?” Patrick asked Spencer, even though I’d already told him.

  We walked back toward the counter where Spencer was standing.

  I had to get busy and get some of my signature red velvet cookies on a fancy platter with a doily on it along with more of the blueberry crumb cake.

  “Someone has stolen all the phone books at Cocoon Hotel.” It was too hard for Spencer to say without breaking out into a big smile. I started to laugh as I watched his face process what he’d said.

  “Phone books?” Patrick asked, his brows furrowed.

  While Patrick and Spencer continued their phone-book-scandal talk, I headed over to the industrial coffeepots and flipped them on to brew fresh coffee to take over to All About the Details for the big meeting. The shop was only two doors down from the coffeehouse, so I had some time to kill. After I heard the coffee start the brewing cycle, I grabbed the milk glass platter I’d gotten from Wild and Whimsy antique shop, located on the far right side of the boardwalk.

  The round milk glass platter was the perfect size for the treats I was going to serve.

  The Teagardens, the owners of Wild and Whimsy, had gotten to know me well since I was always stopping in their shop, looking for pieces to add to the coffeehouse. Some of my mugs had the Bean Hive logo on them, but most of my mugs were antiques I’d picked up from their shop along with the cute cow creamers and sterling silverware. It was all a bit mismatched, but it was cozy and made every customer feel like they were at home chatting with good friends while they hung out in the coffeehouse, the exact feel I was going for when I’d made the business plan.

  “Who were the man and pregnant woman you were talking to?” I asked since I’d never seen them in the coffeehouse, which was strange. Almost everyone in Honey Springs stopped by at one time or the other.

  I opened the glass display door to get out the red velvet cookies and arranged them on the platter. The steam from the industrial coffee makers puffed out the fresh bean aroma into the air. It was the best fragrance ever.

  “They are a sweet couple that live in the old Ellis place down in Clover Bottom. He’s also a big hunter with a remote cabin in the wooded area. They are just good ole hillbillies.” Patrick grew up in Honey Springs, and he knew everyone. “I’d done some free structural work for them when they bought the Ellis place. It needs a lot more fixing up, but they don’t have the cash to do that.”

  “Why am I not surprised you helped them?” I reached out and squeezed his arm. “You are so good to everyone. I’m a lucky gal.” I winked and put the last cookie on the platter before I rearranged a few of them to make it look perfect.

  “Those look good.” Spencer had moseyed over to the counter and put a five-dollar bill next to the cash register. “Everything all good here before I go check on the rest of the boardwalk as things start to get back to normal?”

  “Nope. Honey Springs is in danger,” I said with a straight face.

  “What happened?” Spencer’s jaw tensed, his brows furrowed.

  “There’s a phone book thief on the loose.” I burst out laughing.

  THREE

  “Lordy bee, I’ll be so glad tomorrow when all this riffraff is gone.” Bunny Bowowski, my elderly employee, waddled into the door of the coffeehouse.

  She had on a pink pillbox hat, a pink shawl draped over her shoulders, a brown pair of comfort shoes, and a brown pocketbook dangling from the crook of her arm. It swung back and forth as she took the shawl off her shoulder.

  “Mm-hmm.” Mae Belle Donovan, her best friend and equally as old, wasn’t too far behind her. “Preach it, girl.”

  Mae Belle was a little older than Bunny, but they looked like twins, even down to their rolled-down knee-high stockings.

  “She wishes she could preach it.” Aunt Maxi pushed her way from the outside in and shoved past them.

  “Watch it,” Mae Belle snarled at Aunt Maxi.

  Bunny pushed a piece of her chin-length gray hair behind her ear and glared at Aunt Maxi. After a few seconds of the standoff, the three women gave each other the Baptist nod, where they didn’t wish ill will but not necessarily goodwill either. It was a Southern woman’s way around good manners.

  “Now, ladies, we don’t need another crime around Honey Springs. At least not a murder between three old friends.” I laughed and took the coffeepots off the industrial maker. It was easiest to unscrew the lid and put the self-push lids on them so people could help themselves to how much they wanted.

  “Forget old friends. What do you mean by crime?” Bunny hung her shawl up on the coatrack, along with her pillbox hat and purse. She grabbed an apron.

  “Someone has stolen all the phone books at the Cocoon Hotel.” I grabbed the carafes and handed one to Aunt Maxi. “Can you take that over to All About the Details for me? I’m assuming you’re going to cover the gossip for the meeting.”

  “Pishposh on the meeting.” Aunt Maxi put the carafe down and grabbed her phone. She tapped on the screen before bringing the phone up to her mouth. “Case of the missing phone books. Who was the thief dialing?”

  I gave her a cross look.

  “What? I use my phone memos now to keep notes for my articles.”

  “Article?” Mae Belle scoffed on her way over to the coffee bar. “You mean smut rag?”

  “You’ve plumb near lost your mind, Mae Belle. Get with the times.” Aunt Maxi took her job very seriously.

  “The times? You have a gossip column in the newspaper. That’s no different than Ask Ann Landers.” Mae Belle grabbed a mug and filled it.

  “I’m the modern-day version.” Aunt Maxi ran the tips of her fingers through her spiky hair, making it stand up even more.

  “Whatever.” Mae Belle sighed. She used a stir straw to mix up all the ingredients she used to doctor up her coffee.

  “Do you have it all under control?” I asked Bunny when she walked up next to me at the counter.

  “Does it look like it?” She truly didn’t need any instructions. She took care of the coffeehouse just like she did her own kitchen.

  “I don’t think you’ll have many customers since everyone is probably going to the meeting, then the wrap party.” I wasn’t ever worried with Bunny here.

  Before I could grab the other carafe, Bunny had already gone back to the kitchen and brought out more red velvet cookies to refill the ones I’d taken from the display case.

  “Come on.” I nodded my head toward Aunt Maxi to follow me.

  The sunshine covered us as soon as we walked out of the coffeehouse. It was a beautiful day, but the excited vibe of the townsfolk was truly what was making this day vibrate.

  The filming had really brought all of us together over the last three weeks. Everyone was eager to help out everyone, and the spotlight was on Honey Springs. Now that Aunt Maxi was doing a piece for People, I was confident our upcoming tourist season would explode.

  “Do you have a lot for your People piece?” I asked her.

  “I’m excited. I have some good photos, but I’d kill to get something more personal or an interview with Daisy.” Aunt Maxi jiggled her shoulders. “I wonder who I can bribe?”

  “I’m sure you’ll find someone.” I teased her on the way into All About the Details.

  It was a cute blue clapboard house with two stories that had been completely gutted and transformed with an open-concept floor plan. The boardwalk had had a facelift almost two years ago, the same time I’d opened the Bean Hive, and they were able to keep the cute exterior of the building with a remodeled and updated inside.

  The double doors opened into an entryway decorated with seasonal items. This time, Babette had decorated with a movie theme, no doubt on purpose for the o
ccasion. There was a hallway leading to the back of the building and a large ballroom addition with round tables covered in white linens and ten chairs around each. It was a perfect place to host a wedding reception during the winter months or in the heat of the summer since most weddings in Honey Springs took place outside. Or even a movie screening, and we were hoping Stephen Lemon would let us preview the movie.

  “Over here.” Babette Cliff waved me over. Her messy blond bun on top of her head shook with each flail of her arm. She gestured to the table, where there were some more refreshments set up.

  I put the sweets right next to Emily Rich’s Kentucky bourbon balls. It was one of her biggest sellers at the Bees Knees Bakery, also located on the boardwalk. I was very proud to say that I had a hand in getting the bakery up and running after I’d let Emily intern at the coffeehouse. She was a fabulous baker, far exceeding any culinary skills I had in that area, and I was a bit envious of her, though very proud of her success.

  “Afternoon, Low-retta.” I sat down next to Loretta Bebe in the back row. It was a perfect spot in case I needed to skedaddle if the meeting ran long.

  I couldn’t stop my smile when I said Low-retta’s name the way she said it, even though it was Loretta. Her deep Southern drawl drew out her name even more. She and Aunt Maxi gave each other a tight smile and lift of the chin.

  “Sure is a big crowd today.” Loretta was owner of Diamonds, the only jewelry store in Honey Springs located downtown, and the wealthiest woman in town. “I’ve got my boxes. I need to get my jewels back ASAP.”

  She patted a sack and opened it for me to look inside. It was filled with different-sized jewelry boxes. She had on a pair of skinny black jeans with a bright purple shirt tucked in, her toes perfectly manicured in her short-heeled black strappy sandals. Her short, very-much-from- a-bottle black hair was sprayed stiff. If a really big lake wind rushed past, everything would be skewed, all but Low-retta’s hair.

  Several strands of bright-red golf-ball-sized beads hung tight to her neck then cascaded down to her belly. She had on four or five red bangles. Her dark skin was kissed by the tanning bed in Lisa Stalh’s garage, but to hear Loretta tell it, she was Cherokee Indian, denying any sort of tanning bed usage.

  She was definitely one of the most Southern women in Honey Springs, down to her monogramming on everything she owned.

  “It was awfully nice of you to let them use your jewelry for the film,” I told her. Loretta was one of Aunt Maxi’s gossipy friends. Like all the other women in their group, she loved compliments. They all had a love-hate relationship with each other.

  The citizens trickled through the door. They immediately walked over to the refreshment table and filled small plates with delicious goodies.

  The mayor, along with the main production crew—meaning Stephen Lemon, their agents, and a few of the women of the beautification committee, which included Babette Cliff as well as Spencer Shepard—had taken seats up on the stage behind the podium. There was an empty chair next to Stephen Lemon that I guessed was for Daisy.

  “I’ve got to go,” I leaned over and told Aunt Maxi when the empty chair made me think about Daisy. I’d forgotten Daisy wanted to come to the coffeehouse. I sure hoped I hadn’t missed her.

  “Where are you going?” Loretta asked. “They are putting my name in the ending credits. I’m sure they’re going to announce it right now.” There was excitement on her face as her ego grew larger than life.

  “That’s wonderful,” I said, patting her. “Hopefully, people will be able to read them,” I muttered under my breath, because the credits were generally so small and rolled so fast up the screen at the end that you had to be a speed reader to even follow them, if you stayed that long after the movie. But who was I to rain on her parade?

  I got up and headed right back out the door then hurried down the boardwalk.

  “What are you doing back here?” Bunny Bowowski looked up from the barstool that was butted up to the outside window. There were crumbs on the corners of her mouth, and she was looking at a copy of the CD that I was sure Aunt Maxi had left at the coffeehouse to see if anyone would pick it up.

  “I thought you would like to go see what your committee has done. I don’t need to see it, and you might get them to put your name in the credits.” I knew I was reaching for a reason to get her to leave before Daisy showed up.

  “Do you think?” She brushed the crumbs off her mouth and patted her hair as though she was making sure it was in place.

  “Maybe. Low-retta said something about it, and I’d sure hate for you to miss it.” Just mentioning Loretta put a spring in Bunny’s you-know-what.

  “I’ll be back.” She wagged her finger and scurried out the door.

  I stood in the middle of the coffeehouse and took a deep breath. There was a sense of accomplishment in my soul. Everything was going so well.

  I straightened the tables on my way back, making sure the little cow creamers were in the middle with the salt-and-pepper shakers. If Daisy did show up, I didn’t want the place to look a mess. I headed back to the counter, where I plucked my apron from the hook and put the CD in the front pocket.

  I looked up when the bell over the door dinged. Daisy Lemon stood there like an angel as the sun’s rays surrounded her. I gulped and tried to hide any nervousness from the butterflies in my stomach.

  “Roxy Bloom and her famous latte.” Her voice was like a dream. I felt myself being swept into her spell as she floated across the floor. I meant, literally looked as if she were floating. “I’m here undercover.” She waved a gold-beaded change purse in the air.

  “You are?” I questioned, then I wanted to point out that she had barely anything that resembled “undercover,” not even all the jewels around her neck, which stopped shy of her bosoms, which were definitely not undercover.

  “Yes. I have to have one of those lattes. But if Stephen finds out, he’ll die. It takes a lot to keep this body in tip-top form.” She tossed her hair over her shoulders.

  “These are definitely high in calories and fat.” I wasn’t going to lie to her. “I can make you something fat-free and sugar-free.”

  “Darling.” Daisy smiled, drawing me in even more. “One itsy-bitsy one will be our little secret. Don’t you like the idea that we have a little secret?”

  “Only if…” I gnawed my lip and decided to just go for it. “Well, my aunt Maxi is doing a piece for People magazine. She is in charge of the gossip column in our local paper.” I didn’t want to lie to Daisy in case something I didn’t say came back to haunt me. “She’d love to have a photo of you with this CD she and her friends have put together. I only have to give it to you.” I took it out of my pocket. “It’s her and my mom’s dream for you to have a copy.”

  “What exactly are you asking me to do?” she asked.

  “If I make you a Star-Studded Latte, can I get a photo of you holding it and the CD?” I asked, crossing my fingers behind my back. Aunt Maxi and Mom would absolutely die.

  “Yes!” She squealed and bounced up and down. The diamonds made little crystal prisms all over the coffeehouse. It was like a little fairy was flying around with a magic wand with all the sparkles Daisy’s necklaces were letting off. “But you have to wait until the production crew is out of town before you show the photo, because it’ll give enough time to show Stephen I didn’t gain an ounce.”

  “Deal.” I stuck my hand out, and we shook on it. Then, I went to work on making the best Star-Studded Latte ever.

  The oohs and aahs that came out of Daisy’s mouth as she watched me make the latte made me feel like a superstar. I couldn’t help but notice her eyes would grow really big before she would lick her lips.

  “It must be hard to be in the spotlight all the time.” I grabbed the caramel syrup bottle and drizzled it over the finished product.

  “It’s fine. I enjoy the attention.” She wagged her finger at the bottle. “Add a little more of that.”

  I did what she said then grabbed the whi
pped cream.

  “Oh, yeah. A bunch of that.” She bit the edge of her lip and leaned on the counter next to the cash register, her little gold change purse under her hand. “I’m going to go down to the lake and enjoy this before I have to show up to the meeting.”

  “What is the gift the production company’s giving Honey Springs?” I asked and drizzled some extra caramel on top. I wanted to know if what I’d heard about a statue was true.

  “A stupid bust of Stephen.” She rolled her eyes, and I couldn’t help but notice the sarcasm in her voice. She pushed off the counter. “He loves to give them his face forever.”

  “You don’t sound so happy about it.” I carefully put the latte down in front of her without a lid.

  “I keep telling him that the bust is from years ago and he needs to add all the wrinkles this business has given him.” She dragged her hand across her forehead. “He’s got millions of worry lines. Honey, movie producers are even more conceited than the stars.” She couldn’t take her eyes off the latte. “I’m pretty conceited.”

  “You deserve this.” I tapped the side of the cup. “You’ve made a lot of people happy in Honey Springs.”

  “Thank you.” She slowly walked down the front of all of the display cases and stopped at the food. “I’ll have one of those ham-and-cheese quiches.”

  “That’ll help soak up all the sugar.” I didn’t dare tell her about the fat content in that baby.