A Whole Latte Murder

by Caroline Fardig

  “I thought you were a psychiatrist.”

  “I am, but my primary focus is sleep disorders. They go hand in hand with psychiatric disorders. The clinic employs both medical and psychiatric doctors so we can treat all causes of our patients’ sleep disturbances.”

  “I think my problem is caused by stress. I’m sure when things calm down I’ll start sleeping again.”

  “You’d think that, but it’s not always the case. Stress is definitely a factor in sleep disorders. You’d be surprised by how many college students we treat. I’m confident we can pinpoint your issues and help you get back on the right track. You should consider coming in.” Lucinda was nothing if not persistent.

  “I doubt if my crappy insurance plan will cover a sleep study. No offense, Pete.”

  He laughed and pushed back some branches to peer behind an overgrown bush. “None taken. I know Java Jive’s insurance plan doesn’t pay for shit.”

  Lucinda smiled. “There are some ways we can work with you to get around the payment, especially since you’re a friend. I’d really love to be able to help you. There are some sleep aids I can prescribe that I think could benefit you, but I’m not the kind of doctor who’ll give out a script without evaluating you first. Come in and have a study done. You have to sleep anyway, so you might as well sleep at the clinic one night instead of at home.”

  “Maybe once we find Kira I’ll have time to sleep again.”

  “Please consider it, Juliet. Without sleep, your mind and body can’t function properly. I’ve seen people become very ill because of it.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want to see that happen to you.”

  “Thanks, Lucinda. I’ll come in soon.” I changed the subject. “Pete, have you heard from Cole?” I asked.

  “Yeah, he shot me a text this morning. He wants to get his head on straight before coming out and resuming the search for Kira. Poor kid. He’s a mess,” Pete replied.

  “Hey, you guys! Over here! Come quick!” called Myles, his voice rather garbled.

  My heart flew up into my throat as we hurried down the incline to him. I didn’t think I could survive any more bad news.

  Myles pulled a lollipop out of his mouth and pointed at the ground with it. He was standing inside a fairy ring. “Check out these ’shrooms!”

  Pete gave me an irritated eye roll. To Myles, he snapped, “Please don’t freak us out like that again unless you’ve found something related to our actual search.”

  “Sorry, man, just got excited. Hey, anyone have a bag I can use to pick up these ’shrooms?” Myles said.

  “I don’t think those are the kind of ’shrooms you think they are. Yard mushrooms aren’t hallucinogenic,” Pete replied.

  Myles popped the lollipop back in his mouth. “That sucks.”

  Pete and I went on ahead of Lucinda and her husband. Once we were far enough out of earshot, Pete said, “What’s with that assclown? I know he didn’t toke up on the way over here, but he’s totally baked.”

  “I agree. What do you want to bet that’s not a regular lollipop in his mouth?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You think it’s a pot sucker?”

  “It would explain a lot.”

  “Why is he even here, anyway?”

  I shrugged. “Lucinda helped yesterday and wanted to come back again today, so I guess she brought him with her for some company.”

  We trudged on, and after a few minutes Lucinda and Myles caught up with us.

  Lucinda said, “Pete, Juliet tells me you’re an audio engineer. Did you know Myles is in the industry, too? His band is really beginning to take off.”

  Pete didn’t take his attention off the brush he was looking through. “Is that so?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucinda nudge her husband. Myles reached into his pocket and produced a flash drive, which he held out to Pete. “Yeah, man. Here’s a demo of some of our songs. If they’re a little hard to hear, it’s because we recorded them at our last gig. The bar we played at was kinda loud, so you can’t hear the music so great.”

  Pete turned around and reluctantly accepted the flash drive. “Um…thanks.”

  If there was one thing Pete hated, it was people asking him to listen to their music demos. He wasn’t a producer, so he had little to no say in which artists his studio accepted. Plus, he was a total musical snob and hated listening to crap music, which most unsolicited demos were.

  Lucinda smiled up at Myles. “Those songs are top notch. Pete, I’m sure you’ll love them.”

  Pete pasted on a fake smile. “Yeah. Can’t wait.”

  Having completed the circle around Love Park, we were back where we started, and so were Rhonda and Maya.

  Hoping to get away from Lucinda and Myles, I said, “Love Circle is fairly narrow, as are Acklen and Orleans, so why don’t we split up a little differently, okay? How about Lucinda, Myles, and Rhonda take the Acklen and Orleans stretch, and Pete, Maya, and I will take the rest of Love Circle? Then we can meet up on Thirty-Second and do that one all together.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Maya said, taking off on the next leg of our search.

  After we’d walked a little ways, she said, “No offense, but I’m happy to be away from Rhonda. She’s rather angry.”

  Pete chuckled. “Yep, that’s our Rhonda. And I’m happy to be away from Lucinda and her leachy husband.”

  I frowned. “Sorry about that. Why did I not see that one coming?”

  “Because you really are sleep deprived,” Pete said.

  “What’s wrong with Myles?” Maya asked. “He seemed pretty laid-back.”

  “You would be, too, if you were sucking on a pot lollipop,” Pete said. “It seems that Lucinda dragged Myles with her today hoping for an introduction to me, thinking it would lead to a connection in the recording industry.” He pulled the flash drive out of his pocket and wagged it in my face. “As your punishment for letting that happen, you’re listening to this with me.”

  I sighed dramatically. “I did the crime. I’ll do the time.”

  Maya laughed. “You two are like an old married couple. How long have you known each other?”

  “Since college,” we both said at the same time.

  Maya shook her head and crossed the deserted street to poke into some brush.

  Pete murmured to me, “That’s strike two for you on adding members to Team Pete. One more and I’m going to have to cut you loose.”

  I smiled. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  He nudged me with his shoulder and grinned. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I like having you around.”

  Chapter 16

  Although this outing was decidedly more fun than the others, Team Pete still came back to Java Jive empty-handed. That is, except for the burritos we picked up for lunch. So far at Java Jive, we’d been able to keep the search parties supplied with free coffee, but we’d given up on offering any food. It would have taken the full Java Jive staff working like crazy to feed all the people who’d been in and out of the coffeehouse this weekend. And besides, everyone on staff had insisted on being part of the search, with no one wanting to be left behind to run the place. We were busy enough keeping the coffee flowing, with each employee instructed to make a fresh pot every time he or she came back from a search.

  I was making my pot when I heard someone behind me drawl, “Well, there you are, sweet thing. I’ve been waiting for an hour just to speak to you.”

  I sighed as I turned around to face Don Wolfe. Why was he the only reporter who insisted on hounding me? “Wolfe, unless you’re here to help look for Kira, I am not interested in your crap today.”

  “Oh, come on, Juliet. Are you ever in the mood for my crap?”

  “No, not really. What do you want? Let me guess—an exclusive on something I don’t want to talk about?”

  “You are one smart lady.” He put his phone down on the counter and started a recorder app. “Tell me, what were you feeling when you found body number five?”

&nb
sp; “You know I’m not going to give you any kind of information, right?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe not, but that won’t keep me from connecting the dots of both murders all the way to you.”

  Bewildered, I asked, “How do you figure that?”

  “Well, let’s see. You and a young college boy found Chelsea Stone. Then you and another young college boy found Amelia Zhou. Now one of your employees is missing. I’m just spitballing here, but maybe you’re some cougar dominatrix who gets off on making your subservient boy toys do your killing for you.”

  “I’m just spitballing here, but I think you’ve lost your mind.” I came around next to Wolfe. “And you’ve definitely worn out your welcome.”

  I grabbed him by the belt and the back of his jacket, dragging him off the counter stool and toward the door. He protested and fought me the entire way, but he was surprisingly easy to manhandle. There were a lot of odd looks from bystanders, but no one got in my way. Stafford was coming in the door as I approached it, and he held it open for me while I shoved an embarrassed and indignant Don Wolfe outside.

  Stafford grinned. “I didn’t know you were the bouncer, too. What did that poor man do to deserve being tossed out of here so roughly?”

  “Don’t get me started on that sleazebag,” I said as I went to resume my coffee making.

  He followed me and sat in Wolfe’s vacated seat. “Nasty little man, that one. I’ve had my share of run-ins with him trying to get inside police information.”

  “And I thought he was only put on this earth to make my life miserable.” I held up the fresh pot of coffee. “Coffee?”

  “Please.”

  I poured him a to-go cup.

  He fidgeted with the lid for a moment before saying, “So did you forget about checking in with me today or are you ignoring me?”

  “Checking in? Oh, damn. I totally forgot. I’m sorry. There was nothing to report, except that one of the members of our team thought he’d found the mother lode of hallucinogenic mushrooms.”

  Chuckling, he said, “These college kids. I don’t know how some of them stay sober long enough to go to class.”

  “This was an adult.”

  He shook his head and then looked intently at me. “You seem more upbeat today. I’m surprised after last night.”

  “I’m too tired to do anything but live in the moment. Right now, the moment is good, so I’m going with it.”

  He blushed. “I can’t disagree with you there.”

  I found it interesting, for the strapping lumberjack of a man he was, that Stafford blushed so often. Then again, he seemed to always be incredibly empathetic and kind, especially while doing his job, so maybe he was simply a sensitive guy.

  “Did you come here to harass me or to get free coffee?” I asked, smiling.

  “Both. And to see how Sarah’s doing. She’s new, so I wanted to make sure she’s getting along okay.” He got up, taking his cup with him. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  Ryan and Trevor had come in while I was chatting with Stafford. I went over to the table where they were sitting and collapsed into an empty chair.

  “Did you guys get any sleep?” I asked.

  Trevor shrugged.

  Ryan said, “A little.”

  Neither of them seemed themselves, so I asked, “Doing okay? I know this has been a hell of a week for both of you.”

  Trevor laughed mirthlessly. “Understatement of the year.”

  “I hate to pick at a wound, but do either of you know anything about Chelsea having an affair with a pre-med professor?” I asked.

  “Did your boyfriend send you to get information out of us?” Trevor snapped.

  I deserved that one. “The truth? Yes.”

  Trevor shook his head. “Chelsea never mentioned anything like that. And honestly, I don’t think she was the type of girl to get involved with a professor. She just…she wasn’t like that.”

  Ryan said, “I can ask my med school buddies if they’ve heard anything. Everyone’s pretty close-knit, and the grads and undergrads mingle sometimes. Someone might know something.”

  “That would be great. Thanks.” I stood up. “Well, my break time’s over. My feet are killing me, but I need to get back to it.”

  They waved goodbye unenthusiastically. I’d never known the two of them to be so depressed, but I understood. If I stopped busying myself with other things and let my mind rehash the week, I’d probably find it to be a very dark place.

  Having received our new search assignment, I rounded up our group, now minus Lucinda and Myles (shocker). We picked up Camille and Wayne, who very sickeningly held hands our entire trek to St. Bernard Park. Their sweet little work romance was beginning to get on my nerves.

  St. Bernard Park had hardly any trees and no underbrush, so we fanned out twenty feet apart, making our way through the entire park in no time. The area surrounding the park was a little more commercial, so we searched several parking lots and alleyways the others might not have done in earlier sweeps.

  Morale was slipping lower and lower after each search. In the afternoon we lost Rhonda to a nasty-looking blister on her heel and Maya to a client meeting she had scheduled. Our group took a break for dinner at five.

  Pete said to me, “Want to make some waffle tacos with me?”

  I turned up my nose. “No thanks.” The waffle taco was a weird combination Pete and I had come up with years ago. It was not my favorite.

  “Aw, come on, Jules. We deserve waffle tacos after nearly twenty-four hours of walking.”

  “You go ahead. Ryder’s picking me up for dinner at six.”

  “Ooh, a date. Do you think you guys will be able to get through a meal without arguing?”

  I smiled. “Probably not, but I’m certainly going to try.”

  While Pete slowly made his gross concoction one-handed, I tidied up behind the counter and got as much as I could ready for us to be open for business tomorrow. The more I got done now, the later I could sleep before having to come in to work in the morning.

  Pete, Wayne, and Camille hooked up with another group and went out searching again. I stayed behind and waited for Ryder, feeling rather giddy about our dinner date. I busied myself with making a couple of batches of cookie dough for the next day, not realizing that six o’clock had come and gone. It was 6:17 when I glanced at the clock. I frowned and went out to the front of the house. A dozen people were milling about, but Ryder wasn’t one of them. I called his cell, but it went straight to voicemail. I texted him, but got no response. My overwrought mind began to mull over the idea that something could be wrong.

  I tried to reassure myself that Ryder was very capable of taking care of himself, but after pacing around in the office for a few minutes, panic began to bubble up inside me. I tried his cell again. Straight to voicemail, like before. This time I decided to leave a message.

  “Ryder, it’s nearly six-thirty, and I’m starting to get a little worried. Call me.”

  My voice was warbling, so I kept it short. My knees were beginning to shake as well, so I sat down on the couch. That was worse, because sitting still gave me no outlet for my nervous energy. I began pacing again.

  I’d received no response to my voicemail, so I texted him: Not trying to bother you, but could you at least return my call so I know everything’s okay?

  I waited for him to send a message back, but nothing came. A hollow, empty feeling began growing in my stomach. With shaking fingers, I looked up the main number for the station and called there to ask about him. The officer I spoke with said Ryder had been out all afternoon. Out? Out where? Out chasing a deranged killer. Or being chased by one.

  I shook my head, hoping to flush the crazy notions out of my mind, and I suddenly had a clear thought. I dialed Cromwell’s number, figuring if anyone would know where Ryder was, he would.

  “Cromwell,” he barked as his greeting.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Detective. This is Juliet Langley.”

  He groaned. �
��Tell me you haven’t interrupted my dinner with my wife to tell me you’ve found another dead body.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes. I strained to keep my composure. “No, I was wondering if you know where Ryder is. He was supposed to meet me at six, and he didn’t show. He’s not picking up his phone.” My last word came out on a sob, and I clamped my hand over my mouth to cover the next one.

  The old detective cleared his throat and said kindly, “If I had a nickel for every time I told my wife I’d be home or call at a certain time and got tied up, I would have enough nickels to have retired and moved to Bermuda years ago. Don’t fret, Juliet. He’ll turn up.”

  “Okay,” I breathed, unconvinced. “Thanks.”

  He’ll turn up? When? Mrs. Cromwell might have been a patient saint of a wife, but I was an impatient, hotheaded girlfriend. I couldn’t handle just sitting here and waiting for him to “turn up.” I had to do something or I was going to go nuts. Well, more nuts.

  I flew out of the office. On my way to the door, I hurried over to where Polly was sitting. “If Ryder comes here, have him call me immediately.”

  Polly eyed me warily. “Is everything okay?”

  I swallowed back another sob. “Yeah,” I choked out, running for the door.

  I got in my car and zoomed to Ryder’s house. His car wasn’t in the driveway, so I used the key he’d given me and went inside. With shaking legs, I walked around slowly, checking in every room for him. The place was empty. I put my head in my hands. I didn’t know what else to do. It was coming up on seven o’clock, nearly an hour past when he promised he’d pick me up, and no one knew where he was.

  I drove back to Java Jive in a daze. Polly met me at the door and let me know that Ryder hadn’t come in. She tried to engage me in conversation, but I blew her off and headed for the office. Keeping my emotions in check until I’d shut myself inside, I finally allowed myself to burst into tears as I called Pete.

  “He’s…he’s missing!” I wailed before Pete even had a chance to say hello.

  “Who? What’s going on?”

  “Ryder! He was…he was supposed to pick me up at six, but he didn’t”—I stopped to sniff—“and he’s not answering his phone…”