Death by Vanilla Latte

by Alex Erickson

  “I can’t speak for anyone else, but I went straight home and typed out an angry e-mail to him. It was rude how Mr. Wiseman treated us, and I wanted him to know what I thought about it.”

  “You sent him an angry e-mail?”

  Rita nodded, satisfaction pouring from her. “He deserved to get a little piece of my mind after what he’d done.”

  I groaned. How she thought that would help her case when it came to landing Rick as an agent, I’d never know. Add to the fact the man was murdered and had an angry e-mail sitting in his in-box, it couldn’t look good for her. I had no doubts the police would find the e-mail and ask her about it. I didn’t think they’d ever consider her a real suspect, but it wouldn’t make her life any easier.

  “What about Harland . . .” I frowned. I didn’t think I’d ever heard Harland’s last name.

  “Harland Pennywinkle?” Rita asked. “What about him?”

  “Was he with you that night?”

  She nodded, and then her eyes widened. “Is he a suspect?”

  I didn’t think before I answered. “Someone saw a man matching Harland’s description leaving the bed-and-breakfast after the police had left. Someone snuck into Rick’s room, stealing Justin’s keys and snooping around, and I’m thinking it might have been him.”

  Rita got a faraway look in her eye, and I quickly realized my mistake.

  “Don’t go spreading rumors,” I warned her.

  She nodded absently, wheels still churning away.

  I sighed. Great, now everyone in town was going to know Harland might have been snooping where he shouldn’t. Somehow, I knew it would come back and bite me on the butt.

  Dad was watching me in a way I didn’t quite like, either. All this talk of Rick’s murder had gotten the inquisitive juices flowing. I couldn’t let that stand, not if I wanted to keep him out of it, as well as keep myself from investigating, so I changed the subject.

  “We have a date,” I blurted.

  “A date?” Dad asked, confused for obvious reasons.

  “Will,” I said. “You remember me telling you about Will, right? He’s invited us over tonight for dinner with his parents. It’s not a real date. I mean, you aren’t going to be dating his mom or anything. And I’m not on a real date, though I guess he’s kind of my date. It’s just food. We’re going to eat.” I dropped my head into my hands and stopped babbling before I made an even bigger fool of myself.

  “Dinner sounds good,” Dad said. He sounded amused, though he was being nice and not calling me on my embarrassing ramble.

  “You haven’t met Will Foster yet?” Rita was practically bubbling with excitement.

  “I haven’t,” Dad said, sounding interested.

  “No!” I looked up just as the door opened and about a dozen people strolled in, ready for lunch. “Rita, please!”

  “You’d better take care of that,” she said, waving a hand toward the unmanned register. She had that look in her eye that told me she was going to spend the next hour talking about nothing other than Will, no matter how much I begged and pleaded for her not to.

  “We’ll be okay, Buttercup,” Dad said, a crooked grin on his face. “I don’t want to keep you from work.”

  I wanted to stay and argue. Actually, I wanted to grab Rita by the arm and drag her away from Dad so she couldn’t tell him every dirty little secret she knew. I mean, I didn’t even know everything there was to know about Will. I was afraid Dad would learn something I had yet to find out and it would end up causing some sort of awkward situation where I looked like the clueless girlfriend while everyone stood around snickering at me.

  But I couldn’t abandon my job, no matter how mortified I might be later. Vicki was upstairs, dealing with customers of her own, and Jeff wasn’t back from break yet, so it was all up to me.

  Shoulders slumped, I rose from my seat and gave Rita one last pleading look I was sure she’d ignore. And then I slunk my way back behind the counter, just catching the start of Rita’s spiel, “Now let me tell you something about Will Foster . . .”

  15

  “So . . .” I glanced at my dad out of the corner of my eye. “What’d ya talk about?”

  Dad chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, Buttercup. I didn’t let her say anything that would upset you.”

  I bit my lip and focused on my driving. I really wanted to know what Rita had told Dad once I’d been dragged back to work, but he was being tight-lipped about it. I’d asked him at least a dozen times already, and had gotten the same answer just as many times. He claimed he’d stopped her from gossiping, but they had sat there for a good hour more, talking. I found it hard to believe conversation had moved on to something innocent, like the weather.

  I swallowed back my frustration and turned my mind to what was to come. I’d never been to Will’s parents’ house before. It wasn’t like I was heading down the street to a place similar to mine. They, unlike me, had money. Once Will had given me their address, I’d looked it up online and found they lived in the hills that gave Pine Hills its name. There were no cheap houses there, no quaint little cottages or cabins in the woods. We were likely about to walk into a mansion, or something darn near close to it.

  I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised. Will was a doctor, and he himself was loaded. His parents had shown up at a pretty exclusive party last Halloween, which told me they had some decent money and influence. I wasn’t sure what either of them did for a living—or used to do, since they could very well be retired—but knowing they often took regular vacations out of the country, I guessed they’d made a pretty penny in their time.

  And here I was, a little nobody coffee shop girl, dating their doctor son, and feeling way in over her head. Overwhelmed would be an understatement.

  “You okay?” Dad asked, cutting into my worry.

  “I suppose.” I forced my fingers to relax on the steering wheel. If I kept it up, there’d be permanent impressions left behind. “I’m just nervous.”

  “Your relationship with this man serious?” It was asked in a way that told me he was just as uncomfortable with the topic of conversation as I was. Relationships have never been our strong suits.

  I started to answer, but paused. Was it? What constituted serious? Will had an important job that often had him working late nights, sometimes for days at a time. There were times I wouldn’t see him for two weeks straight, or if I did, he’d look so exhausted, I felt like I was intruding.

  But whenever we did get a few quiet moments alone, I felt safe. Secure. Just thinking about him made me smile.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I really like him and I think he likes me, but we’re taking it slow.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  I sure hoped he was right. A part of me was afraid Will was taking it slow with me not because he wanted to savor every last moment of our relationship, but, rather, because he was afraid I was a looney snooper who couldn’t keep her nose out of other people’s business, and he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t go completely crazy on him. Could my fascination with catching murderers be driving him away?

  Thankfully, we arrived, so conversation ceased, allowing me to worry in peace. I was relieved to see the Foster house wasn’t as large as some of the other homes I’d seen along the way. It was still a lot bigger than my dinky little place, but I didn’t feel as overwhelmed by it as I had before. Even in the falling dark, the grass was a vibrant green that told me they had someone who took care of their yard for them—if they didn’t do it themselves. The driveway was paved and led to a garage that was big enough for at least four vehicles. Five, if you squeezed them in. The doors were closed, so I didn’t know if there were actually that many cars inside, or if part of the garage was a workshop or storage area.

  Two cars were parked in front of the garage. I chose to park beside Will’s Lexus, noting that the other car was an Audi that looked just as expensive. I could practically hear my poor little Ford whimper in embarrassment as I shut
off the engine.

  “Here we are,” I said, speaking more to myself than to Dad.

  “We are.” He winked at me, unbuckled, and got out of the car.

  Would it be bad form for me to turn around and drive away? When I’d gotten dressed, I’d put extra care in looking nice, something I rarely did. I’d opted for a thin white blouse, dark skirt, and flats. It wasn’t cocktail-dress quality, but it was a far cry nicer than anything else I’d worn in the last year or two. Dad had elected a pair of black slacks and a button-up shirt that was starting to show its age. We looked quite the pair, and I hoped we wouldn’t stand out too much.

  Heart hammering, I shoved my keys into my purse and forced myself to get out of the car. Will wouldn’t care what I wore, and from what I knew of his parents, they wouldn’t, either. We weren’t going out, so I didn’t have to worry about public appearances.

  So, why was I so nervous?

  One look at the man next to me, and I knew. This was the first time my dad was going to meet any of them. He wouldn’t disapprove, I was sure, and I doubted the Fosters would turn their noses up at us.

  The front door opened, and Will stepped outside in all his sumptuous glory. He was wearing what I took to be causal for him—a pair of khakis and a button-up shirt that put my dad’s to shame. His sleeves were pushed up to midforearm, yet he made it look relaxed and formal at the same time.

  “Krissy.” He sounded genuinely glad to see me. “Mr. Hancock.” He shook Dad’s hand. “Please, come in.”

  “Thank you.” Dad stepped past him, into the house.

  “Hey.” Will stopped me before I could follow.

  Something in my stomach clenched. Here we go: the bad news. “Is there something wrong?”

  “Oh no!” He smiled. “I just wanted to warn you that there are more people here than anticipated.”

  My eyes widened in alarm, imagining a house full of his relatives. “How many are we talking about?”

  “It’s just my sister,” Will said. “She got a babysitter for Gemma so she could come. She really wanted to meet you.” Gemma was Will’s six-year-old niece.

  I wasn’t sure how to take it. On one hand, I was glad his entire extended family hadn’t decided to come. On the other, even one more might be too much for my frazzled nerves to handle. Not only was I going to have to sit there with Will’s parents, hoping they weren’t judging me and my choices, but now I’d have to impress Will’s sister as well.

  “Don’t worry yourself over it,” Will said, clearly noting my distress. “This isn’t a big deal. Relax. Have fun.”

  Have fun. Right. “Sure thing.” I beamed a smile at him, while, at the same time, my knees knocked together. This was going to be cake. I’m so going to screw this up.

  Will held out his arm, and I laced my own through it. He led me into the foyer, and I tried not to squeeze his arm off as fear clutched at me. Dad was already talking to the Fosters in a large dining room dominated by a gigantic table with places for ten. Plates had been laid out for six, which gave me hope there’d be no more surprise visitors that night.

  Keneche—Ken—Foster was a tall man, skin and eyes both dark. He had a heavy African accent that hadn’t been softened in the time he’d spent in the US. When he laughed, the whole room seemed to shake with it.

  His wife, Maire, was his polar opposite. Short, redheaded, and pale as a ghost. Freckles dotted her aged face, accentuating an already exuberant personality. Her Irish roots definitely showed through, and not just in her accent. When she started talking, it was hard to make her stop.

  They both turned to face me as I entered, smiles as wide as the horizon stretched across their features.

  “Kristina,” Maire said, clutching at my forearm. “I’m so glad you could come on such short notice.”

  “Thank you for inviting me.” I blushed.

  “It’s good to get friends and family together often,” Ken said. He put a special emphasis on family, which more than one of us noticed. My blush deepened, and Will started coughing, his own face reddening.

  “Is this her?”

  I turned to find a beautiful woman coming down the stairs. Her skin wasn’t as dark as Will’s, and her hair had definitely come from her mother, though it was a darker, deeper red. She was fit, and I didn’t mean skinny, but fit as if she’d spent her life exercising. Bright green eyes looked me up and down, and a crooked smile flashed across her face.

  “It is,” Will said, letting my arm fall away. “Krissy, meet my sister, Jade.”

  Before I could say anything, she crossed the room and enveloped me in a hug. When she squeezed, all the air was crushed from my chest.

  “I’ve heard so much about you,” she said, releasing me.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said, wishing Will had told me more about her at some point. I hated that the only thing I knew about her was that she was Will’s sister and had a daughter.

  Jade’s gaze moved to Dad. “Is this your father?”

  “It is.”

  She wrapped him in a hug that caught him by surprise. Apparently, Jade had no problem with physical contact with people she’d just met.

  “Dinner is almost ready,” Maire said, cutting into the greetings. “I’d better go check on the turkey.” She hurried off before anyone could offer to help.

  “Mom loves to cook,” Will said. “She wanted to do something a bit more traditional, but I wasn’t sure if you’d like it. I talked her into turkey and potatoes. I hope that’s okay?”

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” I said.

  “Maire makes a mean shepherd’s pie,” Ken said with a smile. “You would have loved it.”

  “Maybe next time,” I said, though I honestly wasn’t sure what a shepherd’s pie might contain. I’d be willing to find out if it meant I got to spend more time with the Fosters. I might have been nervous coming over, but now that I was here, I was starting to feel more comfortable. Their big smiles and friendly demeanors had a lot to do with that.

  “I’ll be back in a few,” Ken said. “I’d better make sure Maire doesn’t overdo it.” He chuckled and hurried out of the room.

  I turned to Jade. “I’ve met your daughter, Gemma,” I said. “She’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” There was definitely pride in her voice. “If only I could say the same about her father.”

  “I told you he wasn’t right for you,” Will said. “But you’ve never been good at choosing men for yourself, have you?”

  “As if you knew what constituted a good man,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He just couldn’t handle the fact I was better than he was.”

  I looked questioningly at Will.

  “Soccer,” he said. “Jade should be on the Olympic team.”

  She snorted. “I’m not that good.” Though I could tell she was pleased by the compliment.

  “She’s just being modest.”

  “Well, hopefully, I’ll get to see you play someday,” I said.

  “Dinner is served!” Ken called, carrying in the turkey, Maire behind him with a tray of sides.

  The next half hour was a flurry of food and conversation. Maire had outdone herself, but all of it was spectacular.

  A large portion of the conversation was focused on Dad and his books. Neither of the elder Fosters had read his work, though Jade said she thought she’d read one back in her college days. Dad tried to deflect conversation to me, but they were having none of it. I was glad I wasn’t the focus; it gave me a chance to sit back and actually enjoy myself without worrying I might say the wrong thing.

  Dinner wound down, and I sat back, feeling stuffed. Will was to my left, smiling and looking as content as a man could be. I’d probably eaten double of what he’d had, but I didn’t care. Dad was to my right and had eaten at least as much as I did. He looked ready for a nice long nap, and I couldn’t say I disagreed.

  “It was wonderful,” I told Maire.

  “Thank you,” she said, beaming. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”
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br />   “So, what are you going to do now?” Ken asked, tossing his napkin—cloth, of course—down onto his plate. He directed the question to my dad. “I heard about what happened. It’s terrible.”

  “It is,” Dad said. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet, about the signing or my career.”

  “I can’t believe someone would do such a thing in Pine Hills of all places,” Maire said. “It’s a good thing Kristina here is on the case.”

  I started, surprised. “I’m not working the case,” I said. “I’m going to let the police handle it.”

  “Why?” Maire asked, sounding truly perplexed. “You’ve done such a great job helping them since you’ve arrived in town. Will has told us all about your exploits, and I do say, I’m quite impressed.”

  My face flamed red, and I was unable to answer.

  Will did it for me. “She’s too close to this one, Mom,” he said. “She knew the victim. It’s probably better if she steps back and lets the police handle it this time.”

  “They don’t view you as a suspect, do they?” Ken asked my dad.

  “I don’t know. But even if they do, I’m not upset by it. I’d rather them do what they can to catch the killer, even if it means taking a closer look at me to eliminate me as a suspect.”

  I wasn’t sure that would actually help anything, since they’d be spending time looking into the wrong man. And if they looked too long, there was always a chance they’d find something they could use to pin it on him. And that’s not to mention the fact that the real killer could sneak out of town, or worse, strike again in the interim.

  “I’ve heard about those murders you’ve solved,” Jade said from across the table. “It’s actually quite fascinating. How did you ever get into doing such a thing?”

  I shrugged. “It’s nothing really,” I said, unable to stop blushing. “It just sort of happens.”

  “It’s definitely not nothing,” Maire said. “You’ve done a lot for this town. Think of all those bad people that might still be on the loose if it weren’t for your intervention.”

  “I’m proud of her,” Dad said.