Lattes, Ladyfingers, and Lies (A Cape Bay Cafe Mystery Book 4)

by Harper Lin

  The windows on the other side looked into what appeared to be a home office, probably where she managed the stonework business. Now that would be a good place to hide a ring. I looked around the room as much as I could from each window, getting up on my toes and leaning to the side to get as many angles as I could. I saw about a million places to hide a ring—boxes, drawers, filing cabinets, various pieces of furniture—but no actual ring.

  The last window on that side looked into the kitchen. Again, tons of places to hide a ring, but no visible ring. And still no Diane. I drummed my fingers on the side of the house. I hadn’t found anything useful yet, and short of that breaking and entering idea, I had nothing else to look at—unless I could get in the backyard.

  I looked at the fence. No gate on this side and the neighbors had a fence too, so I couldn’t circle around the back. I headed across in front of the house to check the other side. No gate there either. I went back out front to collect Latte and decide what my next move would be. When I came around the corner, I froze. Where was Latte? I jogged across in front of the house to check around the other corner. No dog. I turned around slowly. No dog. I turned again, quickly this time, in case he had managed to hide behind my back. No dog.

  My heart pounded. Where was Latte? Where did he go?

  “Latte!” I hissed in a loud whisper. I didn’t want to actually yell and draw the neighbors’ attention to my trespassing. “Latte!” I whispered again. I ran out toward the road and looked up and down Diane’s street. No little tan dog. I looked back at the house, just in time to see his tail disappear around the corner on the living room/bathroom side. I ran after him. “Latte!” I came around the corner of the house as his hind legs slid through a dip in the ground under the fence. Latte was in the backyard, the backyard that had no gate. If I wasn’t panicking before, I was now.

  “Latte! Latte!” I whisper-screamed. I got down on my belly to see if I could slide through the same spot. Not a chance. Even my head was too big. If I laid my head on the grass though, I could see through the little space and see Latte on the other side, happily sniffing. “Latte!” I whispered. He heard me. He looked up at me, panted a little with that doggy smile on his face, and went back to sniffing. So much for the success of those obedience lessons.

  I stuck my arm through the hole. “Latte!” I called softly. I snapped my fingers and waved my hand. Nothing. He glanced my way and went back to what he was doing. I sat up and leaned against the corner of the house. What was I going to do? I was fairly certain that he would come out of there sooner or later. I was just afraid it was going to be much later rather than anything remotely resembling sooner. And Diane could come home at any minute. Who knew where she was or what she was doing? Hocking the ring, the only evidence, somewhere? That would be my luck.

  I looked under the fence again. Latte was still sniffing. “Latte!” I called once more for good measure. No dice. I looked at the fence and wondered briefly if I could kickbox it down but quickly decided that calling it unlikely was an understatement. Then my eyes landed on the neighbor’s yard. Where Diane’s lawn was completely unspoiled, the neighbors had gardening tools strewn about—garden gloves, a trowel, a rake… and a wheelbarrow. I knew what I was going to do. I was either going to break my arm or I was going to use the wheelbarrow to climb over the fence.

  I checked if there was anyone walking down the street or any curtains twitching suspiciously in the windows. I was in the clear. I popped up and darted into the neighbor’s yard. I grabbed the wheelbarrow and wheeled it over to the fence. I thought about flipping it over, but I’d probably end up stepping on the wheel and falling off.

  I made sure my new stepstool was on fairly even ground then cautiously stepped one foot into it. It seemed steady. I braced myself against the fence and lifted my other leg in. So far, so good. From here, I could reach the top of the fence and see over it. There was Latte, still sniffing away. Holding on to the fence, I tried to swing a leg up to the top. Nope, not a chance. I looked down at the wheelbarrow. I didn’t like my options, but I had to get my dog.

  Still holding on to the top of the fence, I took a slow deep breath then lifted one foot and put it on the edge of the wheelbarrow. It didn’t tip. Gradually, I shifted my weight onto it.

  Somehow, I didn’t fall over. I tried again to swing my leg on top of the fence, and this time it worked. I decided it was probably a bad idea to jump down, so I worked my way up until I sat on the fence then dropped both legs over the other side. I pushed my feet against the fence in an effort to support weight and lowered myself down into the backyard. I had no idea how I was going to get back out, but that was something to worry about after I’d gotten hold of Latte.

  “Latte!” I whispered. He still didn’t care. He turned the corner of the house and walked onto, of course, a perfectly patterned brick patio. I hurried after him. As soon as I got to where I could see the whole backyard, I saw my way out. Well, my way out, and with any luck, my evidence against Diane—a neat pile of tan paving bricks, low enough that I could climb onto it, but high enough that I could get over the fence. And every one of the bricks was exactly like the one that smashed through the window of Howard Jewelers and killed Georgina.

  I dashed across the yard to grab one of the bricks. I needed it to show Mike. Brick in hand, I ran for Latte.

  “Latte, come here!”

  I breathed a sigh of relief as, for once, he listened. I grabbed his leash and pulled him with me back toward the pile of bricks. Salvation was near.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I instantly wanted to throw up, cry, or hurl myself to the ground and scream. Instead, I acted like an adult and turned around.

  How had I not seen her there? She stood at the backdoor of the house, looking calm and yet furiously angry. I tried to swallow, but it’s hard when your mouth has completely dried up.

  “Sabine.”

  “I asked you what you’re doing here,” Sabine said, her voice low and even and ice cold.

  “I, um, accidentally dropped my dog’s leash, and he ran into the backyard and—”

  “You accidentally dropped your dog’s leash so you could look into my sister’s windows, you mean.”

  “Um…”

  “Don’t lie. I saw you.”

  My heart beat furiously in my ears. I wondered if I could make it to the pile of bricks and over the fence before she got to me. Probably if I was on my own, but not with Latte, and I definitely wasn’t leaving him. My mind raced. What was I supposed to do? Apologize profusely? Beg forgiveness? Smile pretty and hope she’d just let me go? Not if she knew her sister was a murderer, she wouldn’t, not with me holding an exact replica of the murder weapon in my hand. But if she didn’t know…

  “Sabine,” I said quietly.

  She glared, her eyes not showing the faintest trace of emotion. I took a step toward her. She didn’t flinch.

  “Sabine, Diane killed Georgina. With one of these.” I held up the brick. “It was an accident, but she killed her.”

  “No,” Sabine whispered.

  “Yes. She knew how much you wanted that ring, and she wanted you to have it. You’re her baby sister, and she loves you. She wanted you to be happy.”

  Sabine’s eyes were huge, and I thought I saw tears welling up in her eyes.

  “She made a mistake, a huge mistake, stealing that ring and killing Georgina. She wanted to do a good thing for you, but she ended up doing something very, very, incredibly bad. It was a mistake.”

  “No,” Sabine whispered again.

  “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  “No.”

  “Sabine, listen. Even though it was a mistake, she can’t get away with it. It wouldn’t be good for her, for you, for Cape Bay. Think of the guilt she’ll feel for the rest of her life for taking Georgina’s life. Her life, Sabine.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. She needs help—”

  “She didn’t do it.”

  “Yes, she did, Sabine. The eviden
ce—”

  “I did it.”

  I stopped cold. Was she telling the truth? Or was she lying to protect the sister who’d killed for her? “Sabine—”

  “Stop it, Sabine!” I heard behind me. I whirled around. There was Diane, weapon of choice in hand, standing uncomfortably close to me.

  “No, Diane. I won’t let you go down for this!” Sabine looked at me. “I did it. I did it. I did it!” She got louder and louder each time. “I did it. I killed her! I killed Georgina. I wanted that ring, and I took one of Diane’s bricks and threw it through the window. I killed Georgina!” By the end, she was yelling.

  “Sabine, shut up!” Diane screamed. “What are you doing? What’s wrong with you? Shut up, shut up, shut up!” She had gradually been moving closer to Sabine and was now so close to me that her yelling hurt my ears.

  “No, Diane! No!”

  “Damn it, Sabine!” Diane yelled back.

  Latte started barking during all the shouting, and he hadn’t stopped. I couldn’t think with all the noise. All I knew was I had to get out of there before one of them turned on me. I had to talk them down.

  “Okay, let’s everybody take a deep breath,” I said in as soothing a voice as I could muster.

  “You!” Diane rounded on me. “This is your fault! They had no evidence! None! Then you had to start sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong! This is your fault!”

  She raised the brick high over her head. She was so close to me, I couldn’t avoid it. As the brick came down on my head, I flung the one I was holding toward Diane, knowing that I couldn’t save myself, but hoping to at least hurt her before I went down.

  There was screaming. I heard sirens. Latte barked.

  “Police! Police! Police! Drop the weapon! Down on the ground!” I saw Mike’s face over me, frantically pushing the hair back from my face with his blood-covered hands. I wondered whose it was. Had he gotten hurt somehow? “Franny! Franny! Fran! Stay with me! Franny! Francesca!” The last thing I saw was the panic in his eyes. Everything went black.

  Chapter 19

  Late Monday evening, I sat at a table toward the back of the darkened café. We had most of the lights off so we didn’t look like we were open, but there wasn’t much tourist traffic at that time of year or hour of night, so we probably could have had every light on and as long as the sign on the door said “Closed,” no one would have bothered us.

  “You need a refill, Mike?” Rhonda stood up.

  For what I guessed was the first time in his life, Mike declined a cup of coffee. “No, I’ve got to be up early in the morning.”

  Sammy’s mouth dropped open. Rhonda leaned over and felt his forehead before he swatted her away.

  “I need to see if you have a fever!” She reached for his forehead again. He swatted some more. “Just be glad I don’t do it the way I do it for my kids.”

  “Don’t you dare kiss my forehead!”

  “Oh, Sandra does that too?” She grinned at him.

  He rolled his eyes and wiggled his to-go cup of coffee in his hand. “Not empty anyway.”

  “A half-full cup has never stopped you before. Anyone else?” She looked at the rest of us.

  “I’ll take another latte,” Ryan said. “Unlike Stanton here, I’m working second shift tomorrow.”

  Rhonda nodded.

  “Some ladyfingers?” Sammy asked.

  Rhonda nodded again. “Anybody else?”

  “Chocolate cupcake!” Matt said.

  “Coming up. Fran?”

  I shook my head. I still didn’t feel much like eating. Besides, I figured I’d get more than my fill in Italy. I’d be hungry by then.

  Rhonda walked over behind the counter and got Sammy’s ladyfingers and Matt’s cupcake and brought them back over to the table. Then she went to make Ryan’s latte.

  Despite the stresses of keeping the café running, the sound of the espresso machine was soothing. It was a sound I’d heard every day of my childhood and almost every day of my life. In college, I’d sometimes go to the campus coffee shop just for the comforting sounds of coffee being prepared. It calmed me down when I was stressed and comforted me when I was anxious. During the stress of finals, I would go and study there because that sound made everything else disappear.

  After the trauma of the past week, listening to Rhonda make Ryan’s latte made me feel like everything was going to be all right. A two-week sojourn to Italy would no doubt raise my spirits even more.

  Rhonda brought Ryan’s fresh cup over to him, took the old one into the back to be washed, then grabbed the pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator to refill her glass. She sat down, leaving the pitcher on the table.

  Sammy picked up one of her ladyfingers and dipped it in Ryan’s latte before taking a bite. Rhonda raised her eyebrows and looked pointedly from Ryan’s cup to Sammy’s mouth.

  “Oh, stop!” Sammy exclaimed. “You can’t exactly dunk ladyfingers in a glass of water, can you?”

  “I would have made you your own latte if you wanted,” Rhonda said with an innocent look on her face.

  “I don’t need a whole one. I have to open this place up in the morning, remember?”

  “I could have made you one just for dunking.”

  “I wouldn’t want to waste the coffee,” Sammy countered.

  “I could have made a small one.”

  Sammy rolled her eyes and didn’t say anything else. She was slowly learning that half the time, Rhonda was only giving her grief. I glanced at Mike and saw him look at Ryan and try not to smile. I looked at Ryan in time to see him shrug one shoulder. A smile pulled at one of the corners of his mouth. Mike took a swallow of his coffee. Rhonda looked at him, raised her eyebrows, and nodded. Mike smiled and shook his head.

  I stared at my latte.

  “So what happened?” Rhonda finally asked.

  I leaned forward, propping my elbows on the table, and rubbed my face with my hands. Matt rested his hand on my back.

  “You want the official story?” Mike asked.

  “I’ll take whatever story I can get at this point,” Rhonda replied.

  “Sabine Bernard threw a brick she obtained from her sister’s stonework company through the side window at Howard Jewelers on Monday evening around ten p.m., hitting Georgina Rockwell in the head, causing Miss Rockwell’s immediate death as a result of blunt force trauma. Miss Bernard climbed in through the window, stepping over Miss Rockwell’s body, picked up the brick—”

  “Which was covered in Georgina’s blood,” Ryan interrupted.

  Mike gave him a dirty look. “Miss Bernard picked up the brick from beside Miss Rockwell’s body and used it to smash the jewelry case where a diamond ring valued between fifty and seventy-five thousand dollars was stored. Miss Bernard took the ring and left the jewelers through the hole in the window. Dean Howard was made aware of the break-in by the alarm company, which was alerted by the initial glass break. When Mr. Howard arrived at the store, he found the broken window and Miss Rockwell’s body and called the police.” Mike finished his story by taking another sip of his coffee.

  Rhonda held up her hands and applauded quietly. “Nice work. Very professional summary. Leaving out some of the important points at the end. Thanks anyway, Mike.” She rotated in her chair to look at me. “Now, Fran?”

  I sighed and rubbed my hands back and forth across my face again then leaned back in my chair.

  “Sabine wanted the ring. She thought that if Sean loved her enough, he would have found a way to pay for it. If he didn’t have the money, he could take out a loan, sell his car, sell whatever he could to get her what she wanted. Sean didn’t have the money, couldn’t qualify for a loan, didn’t have enough to sell to get the money. She didn’t care. She thought he should negotiate Dean down. Dean wouldn’t go down. She finally got fed up and decided she was going to get the ring herself.”

  Rhonda exhaled sharply and shook her head. “And the rest?”

  Matt pulled his arm tight around me as I leaned
into him. I heard Mike take a ragged breath. When his voice came out, it was low and strained.

  “Franny had enough circumstantial evidence that she thought Diane did it. She went to her house to try and find any kind of physical evidence that she could use to convince us that Diane was the killer.”

  “We know that part,” Rhonda said.

  “Rhonda,” Sammy said, giving her a come-on look.

  “Sorry,” Rhonda said.

  Mike took another deep breath. “One of the neighbors saw Fran climbing over the fence into Diane’s backyard and called the police.”

  “Thank God,” Rhonda said.

  Matt held on to me even tighter.

  “When we arrived on scene, we heard the screaming and went in through the house. By the time we got into the backyard, Franny—” He cut himself off and covered his mouth with his fist. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought there were tears in his eyes.

  “By the time we got into the backyard, Fran was on the ground.” Ryan jumped in to save Mike from having to finish. “Mike went to her. Woodrow took down Diane, and Phillips got Sabine.” He looked over at me and smiled. “I got Latte.”

  I gave him the best smile I could manage. I didn’t like hearing the story over again. It brought back the image of Mike shouting and the blood on his hands and the terror in his eyes.

  “You were so lucky to get away with a mild concussion.” Rhonda reached across Matt to squeeze my hand. I gave her the same weak smile I’d given Ryan.

  “Damn right she was. I told you not to—” Mike stopped, blinked hard, and stared at the wall. If I hadn’t before, I knew now that at least half the reason he told me to stay out of his cases was to protect me. The rest of it was definitely that he didn’t want me interfering with his investigations as much as I didn’t want him interfering with my coffee.