A Whole Latte Murder

by Caroline Fardig

  Smiling, he said, “I thought that kind of thing didn’t bother you.”

  “I think it wouldn’t if I had a cooler story about my injury. This was just a dumb accident.”

  He chuckled. “Injuries do tend to lose their cool factor when you can’t say, ‘You should see the other guy.’ ” After giving me another kiss, he said, “I have to go. Please be careful.”

  “I will.”

  Ryder left, and I went to the kitchen to get a bag of ice. It was noisy in the front of the house, and when I looked through the pass-through, I realized why. The place was packed. I went out front, where it was wall-to-wall people and Polly was up on our small stage, trying to get everyone’s attention. There were even a couple of news cameras there. Polly was truly amazing at what she did.

  When everyone began to quiet down, she said into the microphone, “Thank you all for coming out tonight. I’m Polly Kane, the MNPD’s liaison in charge of coordinating civilian searches for missing persons.” She gestured to Stafford, who had returned and was standing next to her on the stage. “This is Detective John Stafford, the detective in charge of Kira Gibson’s case. After he talks about our search procedure, I’m going to break you into groups so you can head out.” She passed the mic to Stafford and stepped down from the stage.

  Stafford said gravely, “Kira Gibson has been missing for approximately two hours. She’s twenty years old, part African-American and part Caucasian, with long black hair and brown eyes. She was last seen leaving this building wearing a blue Java Jive T-shirt and jeans. Her phone was smashed and left in the alley behind the coffeehouse. None of her friends or family has heard from her since. Her roommate was murdered earlier this week, and because of that we feel Kira’s safety is at risk. If you see her and she’s with someone, do not engage them. Call 911. If you find out any information regarding her whereabouts, contact either Polly Kane or Juliet Langley. We’re passing out fliers with all the information you’ll need. Please remember that you will only be searching public areas. You are not authorized to search in or around private residences. Please do not knock on doors as part of your search. Thank you in advance for your time and cooperation.”

  Stafford gave the mic back to Polly and hopped off the stage, coming my way. As she was explaining about the groups, he said to me, “I want us to be in contact during the search. I’d like updates from you at least every two hours. And I’ve been instructed to impress upon you that you are not to go anywhere alone or take it upon yourself to follow anyone you may think is suspicious.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Wonder who that order came from.”

  He shrugged. “Hey, I’ve seen you in action. It’s not an unfounded request.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  Stafford nodded and glanced down at the bag of ice in my hand. “You know, ice works only if you actually put it on the injury.”

  “Is that so?”

  He grinned at me. As he turned to leave he said, “Remember, every couple of hours.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  It was getting noisy in the coffeehouse again, so I went back to the office for a moment to sit down and ice my nose.

  A few minutes later, Pete came in and announced, “I pulled some strings with Polly. You’re on Team Pete tonight.”

  I was sure Ryder had pulled those strings long before Pete got involved. I looked at him dubiously. “Do we have to call it Team Pete?”

  He puffed out his chest. “Of course. How else will everyone know I’m the head honcho?”

  I laughed, happy to see Pete’s spunky attitude was back.

  His face turned serious. “All joking aside, Jules, we’re going to do what it takes to find Kira. Are you ready to head out?”

  “Yeah. I’ll grab my stuff and catch up with you outside.”

  My nose was throbbing again, so I found some Advil in the bottom of my purse and took it. I grabbed my jacket and my phone and went out to the dining area. I hadn’t noticed when I’d come out the first time, but on my way to the door I found my tennis team and Mallory’s gathered around a table, perusing the fliers Polly had distributed.

  “Hey, guys,” I said, stopping next to Stan.

  They chorused their hellos.

  Stan said, “When I got your message and told everyone what had happened, they all wanted to help.”

  I was floored. These were people I’d just met and would probably never see again, and yet here they were, offering their time and energy to look for a girl they didn’t even know. My eyes prickled with tears.

  I smiled. “Thank you all. We really appreciate the help.”

  Mallory got up to give me a hug. “Even though I don’t work here anymore, I still feel like I’m a part of the Java Jive family. We’ll bring her home.”

  Gesturing to the other doctors around the table, Dean said, “Between the six of us, we have the clearance to go practically anywhere in Vanderbilt Hospital. That’s where we’ll look first, to see if she’s been there to seek treatment. After that, we’ll spread out to the campus.” He nodded toward Jack, who had rejoined the group. “With Zara and Jack being professors there, we should have access to a few places the other search groups can’t go.”

  “That’s a great plan. Thanks so much, all of you,” I said.

  I went out to the front porch, where I met Pete, Cole, and two girls I recognized as Kira and Chelsea’s friends Isabella and Gina.

  After we’d all introduced ourselves, Pete said, “Team Pete has been assigned the stretch of Twenty-First from Portland to the funky intersection where Broadway starts. It should take us an hour or two to walk it and do a decent search. Then we go back to Java Jive and get some coffee and our next assignment.”

  We set off on foot for Twenty-First and Portland, noticing several other groups on their way to their assigned areas. I could imagine this night ending in several different ways, only a couple of which were positive. An eerie chill swept up my spine as my thoughts swirled around in my head. Pete must have been watching me, because he put his arm around me and left it there as we continued walking. All of us, including Cole, who usually had a lot to say, were quiet as we trekked to our starting point. I wondered if everyone was feeling as apprehensive as I was.

  Once we got to the intersection, Pete said to the team, “I think we should split up into two groups and each take a side of the road. On the way back, we’ll switch sides to make sure everyone gets their eyes on every part of Twenty-First. Jules and I will take the right side heading north, and the three of you can take the left side.”

  The girls’ eyes widened when Pete said “split up,” so I added, “We should probably try to stay at the same pace going up the street so our team doesn’t get separated.”

  Cole nodded, and the girls murmured a relieved, “Yeah.”

  We set out up the street, yelling Kira’s name, telling her who we were and that we were looking for her. In this area, it was mostly businesses and apartment buildings, and there were about a zillion places someone could hide or be hidden. There also weren’t a lot of people out wandering around to show Kira’s picture to. In twenty minutes, we had only reached the Pancake Pantry, which was just a few blocks from where we started and not even a quarter of the way to our destination. I was beginning to get discouraged. Pete and I went behind the strip of businesses between Belcourt and Wedgewood Avenues, where he checked out the parking lot while I headed down the ramp that led to the shop entrances. Finding nothing in the little alcove, I dejectedly plopped down on the short wall in front of A Thousand Faces, staring blindly into the gift shop’s cheerful window.

  Pete leaned over the railing above me. “What’s up, Jules?”

  I rubbed my aching forehead. “This search is a lot more…I don’t know…broad and difficult than I thought it would be. I never realized there were so many places a person could hide out in the open. What do we have, a mile to search? At this pace it’s going to take all night!”

  He reached down and ruffled my hair. “Come on.
The Jules I know doesn’t get discouraged that easily. Besides, Vandy is coming up ahead, which we can blow right past. Polly said campus security is heading up searching all campus property.”

  “Well, that does cut out quite a stretch of our search area.” I rose and trudged back up the ramp to meet him.

  He put his arm around my shoulders again and steered me toward Twenty-First. Cole, Isabella, and Gina were waiting on the corner across the street for us to catch up.

  Pete yelled to them, “I take it you haven’t found anything.”

  Cole frowned and hung his head. “No, nothing.”

  “Let’s keep going,” Pete replied, pulling me with him across Wedgewood.

  After we had walked a ways, I said, “Cole isn’t himself. He didn’t even make a crack about my nose.”

  Pete sighed. “He’s got it in his head that he’s partially to blame.”

  “Why would he think that?”

  “He was the last one to see Kira. She asked if she could go on break, and he agreed. He said something to me like, if he’d just manned up and told her it wasn’t time for her break yet, then maybe she wouldn’t have left and wouldn’t have gone missing. I don’t know. He can be hard to understand on a good day.”

  I shook my head. “Poor guy. But if he’s going by that logic, then it’s my fault for taking the afternoon off from my managerial duties and putting Cole in charge of the baristas.”

  “Don’t start that.”

  “I’m not. No one could have known what was going to happen.” We paused a moment to peer around the parking lot of The Village at Vanderbilt. I turned to Pete. “Are we all thinking she was kidnapped? No one’s really come out and said it, but it seems the most likely scenario. What’s your thought?”

  His mouth was set in a grim line. “Yes, I think someone took her, mostly because of the smashed phone. Someone either broke it on purpose or threw it out of a vehicle as they were peeling out of the alley. I mean, I guess she could have dropped it and someone could have run over it later, but with all the crazy shit that’s been happening lately, I don’t think it’s simply a coincidence.”

  “I don’t, either.”

  We walked back to the street, and Pete hollered across to the rest of our team, “We don’t have to search any Vandy property. Keep walking, but keep an eye out.”

  As we passed the campus, we started to see more people on foot, even though it was past ten o’clock. However, most of them were holding the “Find Kira” fliers, so we didn’t need to stop and ask if they’d seen her. When we got near the back of the Vanderbilt library, it was time to start searching on our side of the street again around the commercial businesses there. It didn’t take long to get to the end of our route, and then our two small groups traded sides to make the return trip.

  After working all morning, playing tennis all afternoon, and now the walking, my feet were dead tired. I felt like I was dragging around lead weights. I didn’t dare voice my complaint, though. From the looks on the rest of the team’s faces, it was obvious they were all fighting their own battles. Even Pete’s cheerfulness had waned. Usually he kept the conversation going, but not on the return trip. We trekked the entire way back to Java Jive in an unnatural, somber silence.

  Chapter 13

  When we got back to the coffeehouse, I headed straight for the office, throwing myself onto the couch and putting my feet up. Even though I worried resting would actually make things worse when I went to get back up, I didn’t care. I shot Stafford a text letting him know we struck out, and I got one back immediately: Don’t be discouraged. This is a slow and depressing process, but we’ll get through it.

  I couldn’t imagine searching for missing people as my job. It would drive me insane. After only a couple of hours I’d gone from optimistic to nearly hopeless. I didn’t know how Stafford did it day in and day out.

  Pete came in the office with a to-go cup. “I took the liberty of making you a Mocha Quint.” That was Pete-speak for a drink he’d concocted, made up of five espresso shots, about a quarter cup of chocolate syrup, and a splash of milk. It was like drinking sweetened motor oil. Effective, but disgusting.

  I accepted the cup uneasily. “Are you trying to keep me awake or give me a seizure?”

  “Hopefully only the first one. We’ve got our new assignment. Basically the same stretch, only we’re on Eighteenth this time instead of Twenty-First.”

  I took a sip and winced. The Mocha Quint was not Pete’s best work. “Crap. There are a lot of apartment buildings and individual businesses on Eighteenth. And it won’t be nearly as well lit as Twenty-First. Lots of dark nooks and crannies to look in.”

  “So we take extra flashlights.” He came over and sat next to me on the couch. “What’s really up with you? You were all gung ho earlier, coordinating the search and everything. Now you’re Debbie Downer.”

  I didn’t want to voice the morbid thoughts I was having—that if we actually were to find Kira in our search area, there was a chance she could be dead when we got to her. It stood to reason that if someone had kidnapped her and she was still alive, we weren’t going to find her out on the street within a mile of where she’d been taken. And if she had run away, she sure as hell wouldn’t have been hanging around on some random street in the area—she’d have been miles away after a few hours. Every outcome I could think of was grim.

  “I know. And I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a little…overwhelmed.”

  He studied me for a moment, his brown eyes boring into mine. “Don’t lie to me, Jules.”

  I got up, which was a mistake because a new wave of pain shot through my already aching feet. I hobbled over to look out the window, which faced the alley. “I’m not,” I replied, my back to him.

  I heard him get up and walk toward me, but I didn’t turn around. I could feel his presence directly behind me. He said softly, “Want to know what I think?”

  “Not particularly.”

  Placing a hand on my shoulder, he turned me around to face him. “I think what you’re worried about is that we will find Kira and you won’t like what you see.”

  “How do you do that?”

  “What? Read your mind? It’s simple.” He reached up and caressed my cheek, which sent a spark through me. “Because I know you better than anyone else.”

  That same feeling I’d had during my dream about Pete came over me, and I involuntarily leaned my face into his hand. Our eyes locked, and everything seemed to fall away except the two of us. Neither of us moved until there was a knock at the door; we hastily stepped away from each other as Cole stuck his head in.

  “Hey, are you guys ready to go?” Cole asked.

  “Uh…yeah,” Pete replied, his voice quiet. He left the room without saying a word to me.

  —

  To say this search was awkward after what had happened between Pete and me in the office would be an understatement. He decided we should split up differently this time, with him teaming up with Isabella and Gina and me taking the opposite side of the street with Cole. Pete and I didn’t talk to each other even once during the next couple of hours. Not surprisingly, we again found no sign of Kira and no leads whatsoever. The other groups must not have, either, because they were supposed to report anything they found to either Polly or me, and I hadn’t gotten so much as a text all night.

  When we got back to Java Jive, Pete disappeared down the back hallway, and I went behind the counter to get myself some coffee I could actually drink.

  Polly came up and took a seat across from me at the counter. “Rough night?” she asked.

  I set my cup down and leaned tiredly on the counter. “I shouldn’t complain. Everyone’s been searching as long as I have.”

  She shook her head. “Not all of them. We lost a quarter of our participants after the first search, and now we’re down to less than half.” When I frowned, she added, “It happens. People get all charged up about helping, but when it turns into work and the gravity of the situation hits them, th
ey often can’t handle it and disappear.”

  I neglected to mention I’d had all those same thoughts tonight. “That’s too bad. I understand, though. It’s getting late.” I glanced at the clock. It was nearly three in the morning. I groaned. “Or should I say early?”

  Polly chuckled. “Up past your bedtime?”

  “I wish it were that simple. I’ve barely slept since Ryder got transferred to homicide.”

  Wincing, Polly said, “Ooh, that’s not good. Sounds like you need to get a handle on your feelings about it. You have to be able to sleep. And you need to ice your face, dear. You look like someone used you for a punching bag.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to be mothered, so I excused myself and went to the kitchen to get another bag of ice, intending to actually use it this time. Pete was in there awkwardly making himself a sandwich. He glanced up at me warily when I came in.

  I didn’t have the energy to skirt around anything at this point. “Why are you being weird?”

  Concentrating on slathering mayo on his sandwich, he replied, “I’m not being weird.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “You are, too,” he grumbled under his breath.

  I got my bag of ice, and before I zipped it up, I plucked out a piece and threw it at him. It hit him in the shoulder, and he glared at me.

  I said, “Talk to me.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Such language.”

  “You know, I’m not the only one who’s tired of the funk you’re in. Gertie is all but ready to buy you a prostitute.”

  His eyes bulged, and he wrinkled his nose. “That’s ten kinds of wrong.”

  “I know. That’s what I told her. She just wants to help.” I walked over to him and placed my hand on his good arm. “We both do.”

  Pete tried to shrug me off, but I grabbed him by both shoulders and forced him to face me. I stared him down until he caved. He sighed. “I’m lonely.”

  Hearing him express those words nearly ripped my heart in two. “I know you are, Pete. Which is why you need to get back out there, and…maybe even take a chance with my new friend Brooke. She wants to go out with you. All you have to do is say yes.”