by Jinty James
Zoe carried in the coffee, Lauren following. “Here it is, Mrs. Finch. I can show you how to pop in a pod and make yourself an espresso after you try this.”
“Thank you, dear.” Mrs. Finch took the cup from Zoe and lifted it to her lips. After a couple of sips, she closed her eyes. “That is quite nice, Zoe. It would be fun if I could make one just like this.” Her eyes fluttered opened. “Not that I wouldn’t still come to your café, of course. I love seeing Annie and you two girls.”
“Awesome!” Zoe smiled in relief.
“Now, you two must make yourself a coffee.”
“Thank you,” Lauren replied.
“We’ll be back in a sec!” Zoe zipped to the kitchen.
“She’s right,” Lauren murmured a couple of minutes later, after tasting her own cream enhanced coffee. “Not bad at all.”
“Pamela’s totally missed out.” Zoe giggled as she returned to the living room with her own cup.
They chatted with Mrs. Finch for a few minutes, then Zoe showed Mrs. Finch how to work the espresso machine, Lauren confirming Zoe’s instructions when required.
Mrs. Finch made herself an espresso, seemingly delighted with her own efforts.
“We should be going now,” Lauren said when the senior looked tired.
“Yes.” Zoe nodded. “I’ve got to rest up so I can do lots of knitting this week.”
“I hope you come to the café on Tuesday,” Lauren said, pressing the senior’s hand. “I know Annie will be thrilled.”
“I will,” Mrs. Finch said with determination.
They waved goodbye to the elderly lady, and power-walked home.
“I can’t believe I’m hurrying so I can get home and put my feet up.” Zoe chuckled.
“I know,” Lauren said ruefully. “I’m just glad we’re closed on Mondays – can you imagine getting up at six tomorrow and making cake batter?”
“Ugh.” Zoe wrinkled her nose. “No, I cannot!”
LAUREN AND ZOE SPENT a relaxing Sunday afternoon chilling on the sofa. On Monday, they grocery shopped in the morning, including buying ingredients for the café, and knitting in the afternoon.
On Tuesday morning, Lauren put out a hand to stop the annoying beep beep of her alarm at six a.m. and stumbled into the shower, hoping the hot water would wake her up properly. Getting up early was about the only thing she disliked about running her own business. But if she had a job in Sacramento and commuted, she might have to rise at almost the same time.
Zoe chattered throughout breakfast, giving Lauren a detailed update about her blanket. She’d also given Lauren an update yesterday, while they’d spent a couple of hours knitting in the living room.
“I wonder if I can have it finished for knitting club on Friday?” Zoe mused, as she crunched on a spoonful of granola. “Won’t Mrs. Finch be surprised?”
“Yes, she would,” Lauren confirmed, wondering if she’d be able to finish her scarf by then. Probably not, if she wanted it to be a decent length.
“What do you think, Annie?” Zoe turned to the Norwegian Forest Cat sitting at the table with them and looking interested in their conversation. She’d already finished her breakfast of chicken in gravy.
“Brrt,” Annie replied, her green eyes bright.
“I think that means she can’t wait for me to finish her blanket!”
Me neither.
“We’d better get going.” Lauren checked her watch. “I’ve got batter to make and cupcakes to bake. Ed’s on today, and you know how he likes having the kitchen to himself.”
“Do I ever,” Zoe agreed.
They trooped down the private hallway to the café door, which Lauren unlocked.
“I’ll set up the tables while you get baking,” Zoe suggested.
Lauren whipped up a huge batch of cupcake batter. She hadn’t made a cupcake menu this week, deciding to wing it. Today she’d planned on making chocolate and vanilla. And she definitely wasn’t making vanilla because a certain detective had said he liked vanilla – not at all.
She’d just put a double batch in the oven when Zoe called out to her.
Lauren hurried into the café. Annie was in her cat bed, washing behind her ear, seemingly not concerned by Zoe’s yell.
“What is it?”
“Look!” Zoe held out a blank white envelope.
“Where did you get that?”
“It was pushed under the door.” They both stared at the front entrance to the cafe.
“Have you opened it?” Lauren asked.
“Nope.” Zoe shook her head. “It’s not addressed to anyone.”
“Maybe there’s an advertising flier inside,” Lauren suggested.
“It’s sealed.” Zoe turned over the envelope.
“Maybe it’s from a customer, asking us to save one of Ed’s pastries for them.”
“Could be.” Zoe’s eyes sparkled as she tore open the envelope. “Uh-oh.” Her face paled.
“What?” Lauren peered over her cousin’s shoulder. Her stomach dropped as she looked at the crude drawing.
A stick figure of a girl lay on the ground. The figure had a pixie hairstyle similar to Zoe’s, but the color was light brown, practically the same shade as Lauren’s. The figure wore jeans, a t-shirt, and an apron, a similar outfit to the ones she and Zoe sported.
“Anyone here?” Ed stuck his head through the swinging kitchen doors, scanning the café space. “Sorry I’m late.” His gaze narrowed. “What are you two doing?”
Zoe wordlessly held out the drawing to him.
Shock skimmed his expression as he took it from her.
“Someone doesn’t like you,” he said gruffly.
“You think?” Lauren didn’t mean for her tone to sound snarky.
“You’d better call the cops.” He handed the drawing to Lauren.
“Brrp?” Annie trotted over to them, looking curious. “Brrp?”
“I think someone is playing a trick on us, Annie.” Lauren bent to reassure the cat. “It’s nothing to worry about.” But the tension in her shoulders said otherwise.
“I’ll get started with the pastries.” Ed headed toward the kitchen. “Unless you want to close today?”
“No.” Lauren squared her shoulders. “I’m not letting this – this—” she waved the offensive paper in the air “—stop us from serving our customers.”
“WHO COULD HAVE SENT it?” Zoe tapped her chin. They’d called the police as Ed had suggested, and were now waiting for an officer to arrive while they continued to get the space ready for their first customers.
Meanwhile, Lauren had frosted her cupcakes and put them in the glass case. She could really do with one now, but surely she could wait until her break?
“I don’t even know if it’s supposed to be me or you,” Zoe continued. “The hair color doesn’t look like mine, but the style doesn’t look like yours.”
“But the figure is wearing an apron, and the kind of clothes we wear,” Lauren replied. “And since we’re the only females who work here, it’s a safe bet that it’s one of us.”
“Or maybe it’s a composite!” Zoe’s eyes widened. “It’s supposed to mean both of us!”
“So why didn’t they draw both of us?”
“Because they’re really bad at drawing?” Zoe offered.
“Who thinks we’re a threat?” Lauren posed the question.
“There’s Mrs. Finch, Pamela, Pastor Mike, Ms. Tobin ...” Zoe’s voice trailed off. “I still don’t think it could be Mrs. Finch. I wish she was my grandmother.” Lauren knew Zoe’s remaining grandmother had died a few years ago.
“I know what you mean.” Lauren smiled mistily as she thought of Gramms. She wouldn’t have swapped her for the world, but she viewed Mrs. Finch as a sort of substitute grandmother.
“I don’t want to believe it’s Pastor Mike,” Zoe said. “Everyone in town seems to like him. Look how many people turned out to the painting bee. But he did suddenly have enough money to repaint the church, which is a bit strange.”
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“I know.” Lauren sighed.
“Ooh - it could totally be Ms. Tobin. Yeah!” Zoe nodded so hard Lauren thought her head would fall off. “There’s something about that woman – and don’t forget she claimed she had stomach flu, right around the time Steve was killed.”
“Maybe she’s lonely,” Lauren suggested.
“No wonder, if she talks to everyone the way she talks to us.” Zoe snorted.
“Maybe that’s just her way.” Lauren shrugged. She’d given up trying to work out Ms. Tobin’s behavior in the café. She seemed to enjoy complaining, but ate and drank everything she ordered. “She seems to like Annie.”
“Everyone likes Annie.” Zoe cast a glance toward the bed on the shelf, where Annie watched them, curiosity in her green gaze. “I bet whoever killed Steve liked Annie.”
Lauren checked the clock on the wall. Nine-thirty. She unlocked the front door, her fingers trembling. She told herself she would not be intimidated by the crude drawing.
“At least the police have stopped badgering Mrs. Finch.” Lauren had already told her cousin the snippet of conversation she’d overheard on Sunday between the senior and Pamela.
“Ooh, maybe the detective – Mitch – sent it to us! To warn us off solving the case! But that’s a bummer if he’s into you, Lauren.” Zoe pouted.
“Do you really think he would do something like that?” Lauren crinkled her brow as she stared at her cousin.
“He is new to town,” Zoe told her. “What if Mitch—”
“Are you talking about me?”
They’d been so intent on their conversation that they’d failed to notice the detective enter the café.
“You didn’t wait to be seated.” Zoe glanced at Annie, sitting in her cat bed.
“Brrt!” Annie chirped in an admonishing tone.
“What’s going on?” He zeroed in on the piece of paper on the counter. “The station said you called and had something to report.”
“This.” Lauren pointed to the drawing.
He donned a pair of disposable gloves and carefully picked up the sketch. “When did you receive this?”
“It was under the door this morning.” Zoe pointed to the entrance door that he’d just walked through.
“And it’s supposed to be one of you?” He studied the drawing, then Lauren, and Zoe, in turn, his dark brown eyes assessing.
“I guess,” Lauren replied.
“We thought it might be a composite – to mean both of us,” Zoe added.
“I’ll bag it for evidence.” He carefully placed it in a plastic bag. “We can check for fingerprints and saliva on the envelope.”
Zoe scrunched up her nose but didn’t say anything.
“Have you shown it to anyone?” he asked.
“Only Ed,” Lauren replied.
“How many people have touched it?”
“Zoe and me, and Ed.”
“What have you two been doing?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.
“Nothing!” Zoe replied indignantly.
“It’s true.” Lauren nodded. She’d been racking her brains ever since Zoe had found the drawing. What exactly had they done?
“We’ve been going to knitting club,” Zoe said.
“Who else goes?”
“Only us.” Zoe grinned. “I created it recently.”
“We were at the painting bee on Saturday, as you know,” Lauren added. “But we didn’t speak to many people.”
“And we visited Mrs. Finch on Sunday,” Zoe said, a look in her eye as if daring the detective to criticize them for doing so. “She hadn’t been to the café for a couple of days.”
“We wanted to make sure she was all right,” Lauren forced herself to meet his measuring gaze.
“And is she? All right, I mean.”
“Yes.”
“Mrs. Finch said she’d come in today,” Zoe added.
“Pamela visited Mrs. Finch on Sunday as well,” Lauren said.
“Anything else?” Mitch asked.
“Not that I can think of,” Lauren replied.
“I’ll take this back to the station.” He picked up the bagged drawing. “And I’ll let you know if we find out anything.” He turned to go, then halted, gazing at the cupcakes arrayed in the glass display cases. “You’ve got vanilla.”
“Yes,” Lauren replied. Had he remembered their conversation at the painting bee?
“I’ll take one.”
Lauren grabbed a paper bag, hoping her hands weren’t trembling. It was just nerves from receiving that crude sketch, she told herself. When Mitch handed over her payment, she made sure their fingers didn’t touch. She placed the bag containing the cupcake on the counter, so her fingers wouldn’t graze his.
“Thanks.” He smiled.
Awareness flared through her.
“Okay. Now I know for sure he likes you.” Zoe patted her shoulder after Mitch left the café. “Did you see how he held the cupcake bag? Like it contained the most precious thing in the world.” She sighed. “Why can’t I find a guy like that?”
CHAPTER 10
After Mitch left, customers began to trickle in. Lauren and Zoe agreed not to tell anyone about the drawing.
When Hans, the dapper senior, came in around eleven o’clock, Annie trotted to greet him.
“Brrt.” She appeared to be smiling up at him.
“Hello, Annie.” He bent slightly to talk to her. “Where should I sit today, hmm?”
“Brrp,” she replied chattily, leading him to a two-seater table in the middle of the room. She hopped on the opposite chair to his, and looked at him enquiringly.
Lauren watched the two of them “talk,” and approached with her order pad, just as Hans rose a little stiffly from the table.
“I can get your order today, Hans,” she told him. She gestured around the space. “It’s not too busy right now.”
“That is kind of you, Lauren.” Hans smiled. “Annie seems to think a cappuccino and one of your cupcakes will be just right for me.”
“I’ve got chocolate or vanilla.” She scratched down the order with her pencil.
“Vanilla, please,” Hans replied. “They are quite delicious.”
“Thanks!” Lauren smiled. Another person who liked vanilla. Maybe Zoe was right about her vanilla cupcakes, after all.
“After this, I shall go on my daily walk and burn off the calories.” He patted his slight paunch.
“Where do you walk?” Lauren was curious. “Do you go all the way to the park?” The small park was at the other end of town.
“No.” He chuckled. “I do not think I could walk that far. I stroll around the neighborhood – a few blocks, that is all. The doctor said it is good exercise, and when you are my age, you must pay attention to the doctor.”
“Did you see anything strange the day Steve died?” Lauren’s pulse quickened. Why hadn’t she and Zoe thought of this before? Someone out for their daily walk might be a witness and not even know it!
Hans closed his eyes for a moment, as if in deep thought.
“I did see something, yes,” he replied. “But I cannot remember if it was on that particular day, or before then.”
“What did you see?” Lauren held her breath.
Annie leaned forward in her chair, her ears pricked.
“I saw Pamela, walking up the path to Steve’s front door. I did not think anything of it at the time, because she is the church secretary. I think a lot of people know he is doing the accounts for the church, yes?”
“Yes,” Lauren replied, her mind buzzing as if she’d just downed a triple espresso.
“When I heard the sad news about Steve, I did not even think about Pamela visiting his house. It had gone completely – how do you say – out of my mind.”
“I understand.” Lauren nodded.
“I hope this detective finds the killer.”
“Brrt!” Annie agreed.
It was on the tip of Lauren’s tongue to tell Hans about the rudimentary drawing they’
d received, but she held back. She didn’t want to distress him – he looked unhappy talking about Steve’s death.
“I’ll get your order.” Lauren bustled to the counter. She’d have to tell Zoe about Hans’ revelation as soon as she had a spare moment.
After Hans departed, promising to come in again tomorrow, Mrs. Finch arrived. Annie greeted her with a delighted “Brrp!” and showed her to a table in the corner.
Lauren watched the elderly lady and the Norwegian Forest Cat say hello to each other, then came over to take the senior’s order.
“Hello, Lauren.” Mrs. Finch smiled up at her. Small patches of orange rouge decorated her cheeks. “I’ve missed Annie so much! We were just catching up.”
“I could see.” Lauren grinned. “What would you like, Mrs. Finch?”
“I think I’ll try one of your lattes, dear.” The elderly lady looked across the table at Annie. “What do you think, Annie? Should I have a cupcake or one of Ed’s pastries?”
“He’s made blueberry Danish today,” Lauren told her.
“Brrt!”
“I think that means I should have a Danish,” Mrs. Finch said.
“I think so, too.” Lauren smiled at Annie. The cat’s green eyes sparkled as she looked across at one of her favorite customers.
Mrs. Finch couldn’t possibly be guilty of killing Steve – could she?
Lauren barely had a moment to herself the rest of the day. She took a hurried lunch break, but didn’t have a chance to tell Zoe that Hans had spied Pamela visiting Steve’s house.
Only when the last customer departed at a quarter to five, did Lauren sink down on a chair and let out a sigh.
“Phew!”
“I know.” Zoe finished wiping down a table and joined her. She wriggled her feet with relief. “Let’s just sit here for a few minutes before we finish cleaning up for the day.”
“Deal.”
Lauren closed her eyes. After a slow start they’d been slammed with customers. It was good for business, but not for her feet.
Her eyes flew open.
