A Whole Latte Murder

by Caroline Fardig

  He muttered something and left. I continued scouring the hood, angrily showing it who was boss, my focused exertion the only thing keeping me from bursting into tears.

  —

  I ended up greasy from head to toe after my marathon cleaning session, so I went home to shower and change. As I stopped to lock my front door on the way out, Jasper was just coming out of his apartment. I grimaced to myself. I was way too angsty to have a conversation with that idiot today. I quickly locked up and took off down the stairs, but he saw me.

  “Hey, mama! Wait up.”

  I called over my shoulder, “Sorry, can’t chat. Gotta get back to work.”

  He hopped onto the railing and slid down, making it to the bottom of the stairs just as I did. “I’ll walk you there.”

  “Thanks, but not necessary.”

  He fell into step beside me. It would seem this guy couldn’t take a hint. No wonder Chelsea had been creeped out by him. I allowed him to walk with me, but I didn’t engage him in conversation.

  Finally he said, “Kira works for you, right? Are you two pretty tight?”

  “Yes, she works for me, but I don’t know if we’re that tight.”

  He stopped, placing his hand on my arm for a moment to get my attention. I stopped walking as well and turned to face him. The put-on bravado was gone, and his face was serious and concerned. “I’m worried about her.”

  “Me, too.”

  Jasper gazed at a spot over my shoulder, seemingly lost in thought. “I’m a terrible neighbor—always having parties late at night, smoking so much weed it stinks up the whole end of the hall, playing my music too loud. But Kira was always cool about it. Something’s been off about her lately, though. She’s not as chill.”

  “Do you mean since her roommate was killed in their apartment? I suppose she’s likely to be somewhat less chill after what she’s been through.”

  He shook his head. “Nah, it started a couple weeks before that. And last night I heard her go ape shit on someone. Must’ve been over the phone because I could only hear her voice. In case you haven’t noticed, our apartments have pretty thin walls.”

  “I’ve noticed. Did you hear anything she said?”

  “Sort of. She said something about not wanting to be a guinea pig anymore. That she was sick and her body couldn’t take it. Most of the rest of it was a bunch of ‘no’ and ‘you can’t make me’ and shit like that.”

  “That’s odd. Did you ask her about it?” Maybe Kira would talk to Jasper.

  He shook his head. “I might’ve before, but not now. She’s, like, withdrawn. She doesn’t want to stop and talk anymore or come over and hang or anything like that.”

  “Hmm. I haven’t noticed it so much at work, because she does her job well. But I have to agree she doesn’t talk with the rest of us during her downtime anymore. She’s really closed off lately. Do you know if her classes are going okay?”

  He shrugged. “No idea.”

  “Is she still dating that guy—Martin?”

  “Haven’t seen him lately. But I have seen another guy come to their apartment a couple of times.”

  My ears perked up. “Who?”

  “I don’t know. Never seen him before.”

  “Hang on.” I got out my phone and Googled Jack Beaumont. I held up my phone so Jasper could see Jack’s photo. “Was it this guy?”

  “No. That’s one of the Vandy profs. I recognize him from campus.”

  “Have you ever seen Chelsea or Kira with him?”

  “Chelsea, yes. Kira, no.”

  My stomach twisted at finding out another person had seen Jack and Chelsea together. It had to be true, even though I wished desperately that it wasn’t. I kept on with my questioning. “Were he and Chelsea together, like on a date?”

  “Not really. The one time she seemed mad at him, like they were in a fight, and the next time they were just talking.”

  “Did you tell all of this to Detective Stafford?”

  “Who?”

  “The MNPD detective who came to ask you a few questions after Chelsea’s murder?”

  Wrinkling his forehead, he said, “There were two pissed-off cops who came to see me. One old and the other one…really old. They both yelled at me.”

  Ah, yes, the team of Detectives Hamilton and Cromwell, spreading goodwill wherever they went. “Not those two. This would be a much nicer man who came a couple of days later. Tall, blondish…”

  “Big dude with a beard?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “I don’t remember much about that conversation. I was kinda high that afternoon.”

  I refrained from rolling my eyes. “You’re a good friend to worry about Kira. If you see or hear anything weird going on, let me know, okay? I want to help her, too.”

  “Thanks.” Jasper smiled, his slimy persona slipping back into place. “Now that I’ve bared my soul to you, maybe you want to go back to my place and bare something for me.”

  This time I did roll my eyes. “Not in a million years. Goodbye, Jasper.”

  I walked purposefully down the street toward Java Jive, relieved he didn’t follow me. I texted Stafford on the way there, letting him know I had some additional information for him. I was pretty sure it didn’t matter to Kira’s missing persons case, which should have been dropped or closed by now. However, it didn’t hurt to keep a record of everything going on with her in case she finally got her head out of her ass and decided to prosecute whoever had been hurting her. Technically, the info about Chelsea and Jack pertained to Ryder’s case, but since I wasn’t speaking to him right now and didn’t relish the thought of calling Cromwell, I was going to tell Stafford and let him pass it on.

  —

  Stafford showed up within the hour. I got us both a cup of coffee and led him back to the office, offering him a seat next to me on the couch.

  “You said you had new information for me?” he asked, a hopeful tone to his voice.

  “I’m afraid it isn’t earth-shattering.”

  Stafford smiled. “You never know when the most minute detail will break a case.” He held up his mug. “Plus, I never turn down good coffee. The stuff at the station tastes like bile.”

  “Well, in that case, your coffee is always on the house here.”

  “You’ll be sorry you said that when I start showing up several times a day.”

  I smiled. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

  He blushed, and I pretended not to notice. He said, “So how about that information?”

  “Right. I actually saw a good side to my neighbor Jasper earlier.”

  “Was he baked?”

  “Not today. He wanted to talk to me about Kira. He’s worried about her, and he dropped his douchebag act long enough for us to have a really good conversation.”

  “I’ll believe that when I hear it.”

  Chuckling, I recounted my conversation with Jasper to Stafford, from Kira’s state of mind to her angry phone call, to the new guy Jasper had seen with her. I finished with, “Does any of this actually help?”

  Stafford shrugged. “I’ll put it all in the file. I’m finally finished with the paperwork to close her disappearance case, but I’ll add this new info. I appreciate you keeping me in the loop.”

  I wasn’t completely keeping him in the loop, because I wasn’t about to admit anything about my escapade at Exquisite Escorts or following Kira to the Genesis Building like a creeper. “Sure. One more thing, but it pertains to the Chelsea Stone case more than to Kira’s….”

  “Then maybe you should be telling Cromwell or Hamilton about it instead.”

  I hesitated. “Um…I don’t like to talk to Cromwell, and Ryder and I are not on speaking terms any longer.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Wow. Things change quickly.”

  “Yeah. So, someone else had told me about Chelsea having an affair with Jack Beaumont. He’s a Vanderbilt professor. The one who lost it when we found Amelia Zhou that night.”

  “Right. Jack Be
aumont. The guy was a basket case when I talked to him.”

  “Correct. And I’ve already given Ryder that information. My new news is that Jasper confirmed he’d also seen Jack and Chelsea together before, but they didn’t necessarily seem like they were dating. He saw them arguing. He’s never seen Jack and Kira together, though.” For some odd reason, I added, “Although once when Kira told me she was going to study group, she skipped it and…was seen going into the building where Jack has an office. I don’t know if that’s relevant or not.” And I didn’t know what it was about Stafford that made me want to spill my guts to him.

  He nodded thoughtfully. “It’s enough to question Beaumont about Chelsea. But after his reaction to finding Amelia, I’m sure the detectives on her case brought up Chelsea and Kira as well. It never hurts to look at things from another angle, though, and ask different questions.” He added, “I appreciate you going the extra mile for Kira. I don’t think I properly thanked you for helping organize the civilian search. I talked with her family, and it meant a lot to them. And to me.”

  Now it was my turn to blush. “I was happy to do it.”

  Suddenly Stafford got up, saying, “I, um, probably should go. Thanks for the information and the coffee.”

  I took his empty mug from him and followed him toward the door. “You’re welcome.”

  He stopped and turned back around to face me. “Juliet, I—”

  The door opened, and Pete came in, his attention trained on his phone. “Hey, Jules, you ready to do some sleuthing? I figure we’ll tell that talent guy we’re PIs and—”

  “Pete!” I cried, in a too-late attempt to shut him up.

  Pete glanced up, his eyes widening upon realizing I wasn’t alone in the office. “Uh…Hey, Detective.”

  “Hello, Pete.” Stafford offered his hand, and they shook.

  Pete snapped out of his shock and changed the subject before Stafford could question him about his earlier statement. “I hear you had the pleasure of a private concert from our girl here. I’m happy you were able to talk her into it.”

  I laughed, hoping to carry the conversation far away from our marginally legal plans for later. “Bully me into it is more like it. John wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  Stafford smiled. “It was worth it. I expect to see you up on that stage again.”

  Pete said, “We were just discussing that earlier. She’s going to play guitar while I sing at next week’s open mic night.”

  “I didn’t agree to that,” I protested.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Stafford said.

  Pete nodded. “It’s settled, then.”

  I held up my hands. “Whoa. It’s not settled, and I don’t appreciate the two of you ganging up on me.”

  Both of them grinned at me. Pete said, “You’re outnumbered on this one.”

  Stafford said, “That’s right. Be sure to let me know when it happens. I want a front-row seat.” He headed for the door. “I assume you two aren’t doing anything illegal or dangerous tonight.”

  Damn it.

  Pete pretended to be taken aback. “Who? Us? No way.”

  Stafford squinted at us. “You sure? Because I thought you said—”

  Pete interrupted him. “What, earlier? Oh, I was just joking.”

  “That’s Pete. He’s big joker,” I added nervously.

  “Yeah, that’s me,” Pete said.

  Stafford nodded slowly. No way in hell he bought any of it. “Be careful.”

  Pete gave him a little salute. “Will do.”

  Once Stafford left, I reached up and swatted the back of Pete’s head. “Read the room next time before you start blabbing!”

  “If you’d quit hanging out with cops, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

  “So this is my fault now?”

  Pete waved away my pithy remark. “Let’s go smack around a couple of slimeballs.”

  I’d created a monster.

  Chapter 24

  The RJ Goodall Talent Agency office was much like the Exquisite Escorts office, except it was less than half the size and free from doilies. The place was an ancient one-room office, with an aging man in a dated suit behind the desk. RJ Goodall was on the phone when we got there, but he opened the door for us and waved us in, continuing his conversation as he did so.

  “I’m telling you what you’re offering is a slap in the face! This girl won’t even get out of bed for the price you’re offering.”

  Pete raised an eyebrow at me at Goodall’s turn of phrase. I was sure he didn’t mean it quite like it sounded. After our last covert mission, Pete and I both were still reeling from getting up close and personal with the sex-trade business.

  “You’re a lunatic if you think you’re going to book acts with that paltry excuse for compensation. Call me when you come to your senses.” Goodall slammed the phone down in its cradle, then steepled his fingers calmly under his chin. With a smile, he asked, “And how can I help you two fine folks this evening?”

  Pete cut right to the chase. He pulled up a photo of Kira on his phone and showed it to Goodall. “Is this woman a client of yours?”

  Goodall peered at the photo. “She looks familiar. What’s her name?”

  “Kira Gibson,” I replied.

  “Rings a bell. Who wants to know?” he asked, his expression becoming uneasy.

  Pete leaned forward in his chair. “I’m Charlie, and this is my associate, Lana. We’re private investigators looking into some allegations of fraud centered around this office.”

  Goodall froze, his shifty eyes darting back and forth between the two of us. “N-n-now I gave back the extra I took out of those royalty checks. I’ve settled up with my clients, and it’s all water under the bridge, I assure you.”

  Pete pressed on. “Come on now, Mr. Goodall. Don’t lie to me.”

  What was Pete doing? And how did he know so much about this guy?

  Goodall started to sweat. After pulling a stained handkerchief out of his pocket and mopping his brow with it, he said, “I swear. It’s been made right.”

  “We’ll check into it. Now back to the girl. Kira Gibson. Is she or is she not a client?”

  Goodall tapped something into the computer on his desk and squinted at the monitor. “No, she’s not. I could have sworn I recognized her….” He began shuffling papers around on his messy desk, and after a few moments one of our “Find Kira” fliers surfaced. He grabbed it and studied it for a moment. “This must have been why I thought I knew her.” He handed the flier to Pete. “She’s the girl who went missing. It was all over the news.” He cast an uneasy glance at us. “What do you two want with her?”

  Pete pushed out of his chair and leaned over Goodall’s desk, getting up in his face. “That’s our business,” he said ominously.

  In my opinion, Pete was taking this role-playing thing way too far. I tried my best not to appear as appalled as I felt.

  Goodall shrank back in his seat. “Yes, sir.”

  I stood, ready to get the hell out of here. “Thank you, Mr. Goodall. You’ve been a great help.” Snagging Pete by the sleeve, I dragged him out the door and down the stairs. “What were you doing in there?” I hissed. “You nearly gave the poor man a heart attack.”

  “He had it coming.”

  “How did you know about him defrauding his clients?”

  He grinned at me. “I told you I know people. I got the hookup.”

  “I want specifics. Start talking.”

  “I asked around at work. One of the producers had dealt with him before and went on about how much of a snake he is. She told me about the—”

  “What are you two doing in this building?” demanded a frosty voice from down the hall.

  Pete and I both jumped and turned around to find Jack Beaumont coming out of his office, his face red with anger and his clothing disheveled.

  We answered him at the same time, both offering different lies: “Lawyer.” “STD testing.”

  I threw Pete a glare, whisperi
ng, “STD testing? Really?”

  Jack said, “Was it not enough to turn me in to the police? I spent most of this afternoon and evening at the police station being interrogated like a common criminal. But that wasn’t enough for you, was it? Now you’re here spying on me. I should have known, given both of your reputations of late.”

  “Reputations?” Pete demanded, crossing his arms across his chest.

  “Yes. You were arrested for killing your girlfriend, and she’s been a person of interest in more than one murder.”

  Ouch. Maybe our reputations had taken quite a beating in the last few months.

  Jack’s hand shook as he pointed at us. “And now you can add slander and…and defamation of character to your ever-growing list. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer. Now get out before I call the police.”

  Knowing Pete was already in a confrontational mood, before he could fire anything back, I said, “We were just leaving.” I grabbed Pete’s hand and pulled him toward the front door.

  Once we were outside, Pete jerked his hand away and cried, “You’re just going to sit back and take that? Talk about slander and defamation of character!”

  “He didn’t say anything about us that wasn’t true.”

  “We didn’t rat him out to the police.”

  Ooh. I’d forgotten to tell Pete about that. I started walking quickly toward Pete’s car. He caught up with me and jumped into my path, blocking my way down the sidewalk.

  “What did you do?”

  “I talked to Maya earlier, and she said we needed to tell Ryder about Jack’s involvement. In her opinion, we owed it to the investigation to report anything we knew.”

  “I wish you would have told me. We gave Jack our word we believed his explanation.”

  I shrugged. “It’s not up to us to decide whether someone is innocent or guilty, and his behavior of late is troubling. It keeps bothering me how crazed he was when we found Amelia. Plus, it’s true that Jack and Chelsea knew each other pretty well. One of my neighbors told me this afternoon that he’d seen Chelsea and Jack together on more than one occasion, and that he’d seen them fighting. To me, that information helped corroborate the quasi-gossip I heard from Dean Kingston.”

  “It does make me feel better about it that a second person saw them together,” he conceded. We walked in silence for a moment before he said, “Every time we find out something about Kira, it seems to circle back around to Chelsea.”