Mocha and Murder

by Christy Murphy

  Mom nodded, but both of us traded looks. How could it be suicide? He died of strangulation on the street.

  I watched Madonna leave through the glass storefront. Dar-dar and Officer Keller stopped talking when she exited. But they spoke for a little bit longer outside.

  The leader of the mystery group rushed over. "You do know that a lot of times the killer insinuates their way into the investigation," he said.

  "I know that," Mom said. "I think that's just a little bit obvious."

  The leader nodded in agreement.

  "But it's a good point. You better get back to being undercover," Mom said to the leader. "We have another potential suspect on the way."

  "Gotcha!" he said, and dashed back to his table.

  "You know he didn't do it," Mom said to me.

  I wanted Mom to be right, but I wasn't so sure.

  I still doubted that scheduling interviews with potential suspects to have coffee would result in anything useful, but I will say having them come by saved us from driving in the van. So maybe not productive, but definitely better gas mileage.

  Lisa and her son, Adam, came in next.

  "Are the coffees free?" Lisa asked.

  "It's on me," Dar said.

  "Good. Now that I don't have a job and no means of support for Adam, I'm not sure I can afford your fancy coffee."

  "Mom, I'm twenty years old. I don't need support," Adam said.

  Lisa pretended like she didn't hear him.

  Jenna's mood was sullen as she made the drinks. I don't think she enjoyed not being the center of attention. Yes, it was very petty of me, but I did enjoy that.

  "Dar-dar, have you heard anything about a will?" Lisa said.

  "No," Dar-dar said.

  I could feel the collective eyes of the mystery readers grow wide.

  "You know I didn't kill him," Lisa said. "But I don't know that you didn't."

  "Mom," Adam said. "We've been friends for years. Let's not turn on each other over money."

  Dar-dar rolled his eyes. "Are you saying that because you were embezzling the money?" Dar-dar said.

  Adam folded his arms and looked at Dar-dar. "So we're going there?"

  "Burt knew," Dar-dar said.

  This was getting interesting.

  "I knew he knew. He let me do it, because I'm his son," Adam said.

  His remark stunned everyone, including his mother.

  "How long have you known?" Lisa asked.

  "Since I was six," Adam said. "But every time I brought it up, you got really mad."

  "So you stole from your dad?" Dar asked.

  "I said Burt knew I did it," Adam said with his arms crossed. "It wasn't like he ever gave us child support."

  It was Lisa's turn to be a little bit shy. "Yeah, he did."

  It was Adam's turn to be shocked.

  "You always said that my dad was a deadbeat dad," he said.

  "But I told you I had a great boss that paid me generously," she said.

  "I thought you were lying," he said.

  "Well, I was," she said. "Just not about the deadbeat part."

  "Why?" Adam asked.

  "We didn't want his wife to know. It was a mistake. And it was better to get overpaid for being a maid, because I didn't have to go to court, and I still got the money even after you turned eighteen."

  "And he still let me steal the money, anyway." Adam said, staring at the table.

  I was starting to believe that the table at the Mocha Muse was the most interesting table in all of Fletcher Canyon.

  "And then he decided he was going to sell the motel. He said it would be fine, but how?" Lisa asked.

  "I don't know," Dar-dar said. "It seems like his decision to sell it came out of nowhere."

  "Do you know if the sale was final?" Mom asked.

  "He'd already closed the place after our last raid, and your friend from the police came in and checked everything," Lisa said, glaring at Dar-dar. "So I guess he was pretty confident that the deal would close or maybe it already closed. Which is why we want to know about the will. Are we going to get anything or what?"

  "Probate for wills, especially when somebody dies unexpectedly, can take a year or longer," Mom said.

  "Great," Lisa said. "What am I going to do now?"

  "Don't worry, Mom," Adam said. "I think I stole enough for us to get by for the next few months. But after that we might be in trouble."

  I was surprised that Lisa and Adam were so forthcoming with their anger and confessions.

  "Are you sure you haven't seen the will, Dar-dar?" Lisa asked again.

  "No, I told you I haven't," Dar-dar said.

  "You two were close, and you worked in the lobby right next to his office."

  "He kept that private," Dar-dar said.

  "Did he ever mention what was in his will?" she asked.

  "You two had a baby together," Dar-dar said. "That sounds pretty close to me."

  "Twenty years ago. After that, the shame of having an affair with a married man just crushed me. Especially after his wife died," Lisa said. "She was a nice lady."

  "I heard that," Dar-dar said.

  "Did you get a chance to make up with Burt before he died?" Lisa asked.

  "Yeah," Dar-dar said.

  The conversation dwindled from there, and eventually Adam and Lisa left. Dar-dar went to the back to help Jenna out with some coffeehouse business, but things weren't looking good. It didn't look like Lisa or her son Adam had done it, and I had my doubts about Madonna.

  "What do we do now?" I asked Mom.

  "We're going to the Lucky Dragon!" she called out to Dar-dar. "Come by when you're done here so we can take you home."

  And with that the rest of the San Fernando Valley Mystery Readers closed their books and walked with us down the street to the Lucky Dragon.

  The only thing was I didn't really feel like talking about the case. The last conversation had been pretty heavy, and as far as I could tell our best suspect was Dar-dar.

  7

  Rangoon and Romance

  Mom, the members of the San Fernando Valley Mystery Readers, and I entered the Lucky Dragon to find Wenling at the hostess stand.

  "Right this way," Wenling said. "To the special mystery section on the other side. It'll keep any of the suspects from overhearing as we strategize about the next moves on the case."

  "Is this where you solve all of your mysteries?" one of the women in the group asked.

  "Yes," another member of the group answered. "She told us all about it yesterday."

  "I wish I hadn't missed yesterday," the woman said.

  I hadn't realized that some of the people in today's group were different from yesterday. I worried that too many people knew about what we were trying to do. Although, it wasn't exactly illegal, was it?

  "Mom, we're not supposed to be investigators, remember?" I said.

  Mom walked over to Wenling and whispered in her ear.

  "And remember all of this is for entertainment purposes only. We're only providing you with discount food and lovely conversation," Wenling said with a wink. "There is nothing that we're doing that is against the law or getting in the way of the police."

  "But this is all real, right?" the leader asked.

  "The guy really did die," Wenling said, her tone a tad offended. "You called me because you read about it in the paper."

  "But none of those people were actors today, were they?" one of the other members asked.

  "No," Wenling said. "All of those people are people we genuinely think might have killed Burt."

  Mom shook her head rapidly back and forth to say no.

  "Allegedly," Wenling corrected. "We're not legally saying anybody killed anybody. Who knows what they want to drink? Soft drink, coffee, or tea is included in the crab rangoon special," Wenling said, changing the topic.

  "I think iced tea," one of the men said.

  "Very nice choice. Always a good drink to go with murder-solving," Wenling said.

&nbs
p; She gathered the drink orders, and one of the waiters came out and served them. While drinks were served, Wenling continued. "This booth in the back is where we'll discuss the case. We'll do that now. I've sat you all close enough and we'll speak a little louder so you can hear us."

  Jennifer entered the closed side of the restaurant and served the patrons there. "Mom, why are you seating people here?"

  "This is the special party I was telling you about," Wenling said.

  Jennifer and her mom began speaking rapidly in Chinese and headed to the kitchen. I got the distinct impression that Wenling hadn't told Jennifer all of what was going on.

  "So that's why Wenling didn't come with us this afternoon," I said to Mom.

  "Don't worry, kid. We get a cut," Mom said. "Let's get to the booth."

  We sat down in the back, and I listened to the other conversations. Many of the people suspected Dar-dar of the crime. Someone else mentioned the idea that there may be a second body.

  "Why do some of the people think there might be someone else who dies?" I asked Mom.

  "Don't you remember from the books you read?" Mom asked.

  "No," I said. "And this is for real."

  "I know this is real, but in most books one of our suspects would end up dying, and then there would be a second body. It makes the book longer," Mom said.

  "I think not having a second body makes us look less guilty," I said. "We're around too many dead people as it is being caterers in a small town."

  Mom and I chit-chatted about this theory.

  Wenling rushed over to the side of the restaurant and said, "It looks like a policeman is coming," she said loudly to the group. "So let's go ahead and keep talking about our dinner and our reading. Fictional-murder-reading-for-entertainment-purposes kind of stuff."

  I could see the squad car with Officer Keller seated in it through the glass storefront. His partner got out and then I heard the bell over the restaurant door ding.

  "Is she here?" I heard the officer ask, and the waiter directed him to our side of the restaurant. The book club whispered to each other while pretending not to notice what was happening.

  "There you are," the officer said, staring straight at me. I thought he might be looking for mom for a second, but then he said, "I came here earlier when my partner was at the coffeehouse, because everyone around town says you hang out here in the afternoons. But then my partner said he saw you and your mom at the coffeehouse, and before I could go back over there to say hello, we got a call. So I just went to the coffeehouse, and it turns out now you're over here. Isn't that crazy?"

  "Yeah," I said, not at all understanding why it was crazy, and totally nervous as to why the cops wanted to talk to me. First, one partner wanted to talk to Dar-dar, and now the other partner wanted to question me.

  "Do you mind stepping outside on the sidewalk so we can have some privacy?" he asked.

  I started to think I might need a lawyer.

  "She doesn't mind," Mom said.

  I gave Mom an incredulous look. I couldn't believe she'd just thrown me to the wolves like that. Mom elbowed me to get up, and I followed the officer out.

  We stood on Main Street, and I could almost feel the entire town staring at me. I was only a few feet from the squad car.

  "Are you putting me in the back of the car and taking me downtown?" I asked.

  He laughed. "You're funny. Like when you were talking about being a Pioneer Pal at the party. You remember me from the party, right?"

  "Yes. You helped me with the body," I said.

  "That was me. I helped you with the CPR. But he was dead," the officer said.

  I didn't understand why he was just standing there.

  "Anyhoo," he said. "Your mom was telling me at the coffeehouse that you were single."

  "When did she say that?" I asked, a little miffed at Mom.

  "I guess when you went out to get the brownies," he said, his tone upbeat.

  "You mean when I found the man dead in the gutter?" I asked.

  "You were impressively calm when we came running outside," he said.

  "I've had a little bit of experience," I said. What a weird compliment.

  "Yeah," he said. "I've read about you in the paper. Great stuff. We have so much in common."

  "Yeah," I said again. The weirdness of standing on the sidewalk with everybody staring at us and his complimenting me on my dead body-handling skills threw me for a loop.

  "I was thinking maybe we should go to dinner sometime."

  He was asking me out. He'd seen me make conversation about being a Pioneer Pal while sweating in a trench coat and then giving CPR to a fat man dressed as Bilbo Baggins, and that's what made this person decide to ask me out? Is this the kind of person I wanted to date? He did have a steady job. He was tall and somewhat handsome, but I had a crush on a certain detective that was completely ignoring me. How could I go out with someone else? Just thinking about the question seemed stupid.

  "I realize this comes out of nowhere. You don't know me. But I know a lot of people from around town. I lived here about six years ago. I just got transferred and got a new partner. Think about it. Will you be here later in the week?"

  "I'm always here," I said.

  His walkie-talkie went off, and he picked it up to respond. "We have to get this. But think about it," he said as he jogged away and waved goodbye.

  I know I should have been happy that the good-looking, employed man had just asked me out for my first date in ten years, but instead I was confused.

  I wandered back into the Lucky Dragon and headed toward Mom's booth. When I entered the closed—or I should say typically closed—half of the restaurant, the mystery readers, Wenling, and mom all went, "Who was that?"

  "A romantic subplot," one of the readers said.

  "Love triangle," Wenling said. "There's a detective in town who used to flirt with her too."

  My face glowed like Rudolph's nose.

  We ate an early dinner, and Mom led the discussion with the mystery lovers' group about who two of the potential suspects were. Most seemed to focus on Dar-dar. Mom nodded and smiled each time they said it. She didn't seem bothered at all.

  Once I finished my dinner, Mom told everyone that we had to leave to continue with the part of the investigation that we could only do alone.

  "So do we come back tomorrow night?" the leader asked.

  "I'll have a new special ready for you," Wenling said.

  "What will we be working on tomorrow?" one of the other members asked.

  "There is an outside chance I'll be revealing the killer," Mom said.

  "So soon?" the leader asked.

  I thought the same thing.

  "Just a chance," Mom said. "Or at least I'll have a theory about the killer. Let's make dinner a little later tomorrow though," Mom said.

  Wenling nodded.

  "Tomorrow we'll meet at seven," Wenling said. "But for now let's discuss dessert."

  "Is this the famous mango cake from the first case you guys had?" a woman asked.

  I wondered why Mom and I had made mango cake yesterday. "The exact same cake that the dead man never got to eat," Wenling said. Then she realized it implied that she was serving stale cake. "That is the exact same recipe. The other cake was eaten."

  Wenling put on some theme music from the first case. A little bit of Bee Gees. I had flashbacks to finding Harold Sanders's dead body while the Bee Gees sang "Staying Alive."

  Mom and I got up, and I drove us home. Mom and I talked about the case a little bit in the car. She really didn't believe that Dar-dar had done anything.

  Deep down, I couldn't believe he had either.

  "Why did we have to leave early? And how do you have a theory about the case?" I said as I parked the van in our driveway.

  "Well for one, I have to feed the cat. And for two we have to go through Dar-dar's things."

  I couldn't believe what Mom was saying. But once we opened the door, Moriarty, our cat, greeted Mom with his
usual affection and ignored me.

  Mom rushed to the kitchen to feed the cat and give him some attention. Then it was off to Dar-dar's room to look for clues I guess.

  Mom went straight for his luggage, and instructed me to rummage through his dresser.

  "What are we looking for?" I asked.

  "Keys," Mom said. "But if you see anything else that could be a clue, that works too."

  "What kind of keys?" I asked.

  "Keys to the Moonlight Motel," Mom said.

  I didn't like where this was headed.

  We rummaged through Dar-dar's things, and found a few photographs of him and Burt together. They looked really close. "Mom, do you think Burt and Dar-dar were having an affair?"

  "Let's just get the keys," Mom said.

  Part of me knew Mom suspected something, but she wasn't sure so she wouldn't say anything. Then I heard Mom shriek with delight, followed by the jangling of keys. "I think these are it. We need to get to the Moonlight Motel and check out his office. I'm sure there's something there. This all doesn't add up."

  "Mom, the place is closed, and it's in a bad neighborhood. Plus we're really getting into breaking and entering."

  "Technically we have keys," Mom said.

  "Stolen keys."

  "Don't worry, kid. I have a plan," Mom said.

  So of course, I worried.

  8

  Fast Food and Fiasco

  I pulled the van up to the motel. "I don't know about this, Mom."

  "You have to go into the parking lot," she said.

  "But what if we need to make a quick getaway?" I asked.

  "We'll look more suspicious if we park on the street. It wouldn't make sense with our cover," Mom said.

  Mom directed me to park at the door closest to the motel reception area, where we assumed the office would be. As soon as I turned, the headlights of our van shined on a middle-aged, half-asleep security guard.

  "Mom," I said, indicating to her that this plan wasn't going to work.

  Mom had already rolled down her window in the van and waved to the security guard. "Hello! This is the Moonlight Motel, right?"

  "It's closed," the security guard said.