MY FAIR LATTE

by Vickie Fee

  I brought them up to speed on our procuring texts from Trey’s phone—and getting caught by the detective.

  “You and Kendra make a crack detective team,” Trudy said. “I’m impressed you were able get at information like that.”

  “They got caught, Trudy, or did you miss that part? And I’m more worried than impressed. You two were lucky that you got caught by the detective instead of Trey,” George said.

  “As much as I’m loathe to agree with the grouch, you and Kendra need to be careful.”

  “Don’t worry, we will. I promise. Vince and Trey seemed to have had a falling out over some woman.” I told them about Miss Alcorn.

  George smiled. “I think Miss Alcorn was likely a bet on the Mississippi College-Alcorn State football game.”

  “Oh.” I said. “Maybe Vince owned him money on a bet, but Trey still seemed mad.”

  “The detective’s interest in Joe coming in and out of the theater opening night brings up an interesting point. If Vince’s drink was spiked at the theater, it was most likely by someone who knew he was coming to the show or by someone who saw him come in and then went and retrieved the drug. They wouldn’t be just carrying drugs around with them. Most people keep their prescriptions in the medicine cabinet at home, don’t they?” George said.

  “Not necessarily. Someone with a heart condition might carry their medicine with them,” Trudy said. “Among Linda, Edgar, Paula and Trey I’d guess Edgar as the one most likely to be taking heart medicine, wouldn’t you think?”

  “Maybe. But Edgar wasn’t at the theater and has witnesses. Plus, he says video footage shows Vince didn’t come by the restaurant that evening,” I said.

  “I don’t think we can rule out Linda on the heart meds,” George said. “She’s over fifty and overweight.”

  “And she was at the theater on opening night by her own admission,” I noted. “And it was packed. People were elbow-to-elbow in the lobby. She could’ve easily dropped something in his drink.”

  “Assuming she takes heart medicine and just happened to have it with her,” Trudy said.

  “Or maybe she spotted Vince walking past her store and saw him go in the theater. She could’ve retrieved the drug and followed him to the theater, seizing it as an opportunity to get rid of her blackmailer,” I said.

  “I suppose it’s possible, but I still have a hard time imagining Linda as a killer. We know for certain Trey wasn’t here. Saturday night is a busy night at the bar, plus he doesn’t exactly blend in. Vince could have stopped by the bar right before he came to the theater, and Trey coulda slipped him a mickey in his drink,” George offered.

  “Trey looks pretty healthy. I can’t imagine him having a heart condition,” I said.

  “I feel certain Trey Tilby is the kind of guy who could obtain any contraband he really wanted to, including prescription drugs,” George said.

  CHAPTER 23

  At about six, I opened the coffee and wine bar for the Thursday night show. It sweetened my mood when Delores actually showed up on time. And even better, we had a pretty good crowd.

  After closing, I finished what little clean-up I had left to do behind the bar and did a quick clean-up in the restrooms, which I was relieved to find in pretty good shape. I decided to leave cleaning the auditorium and vacuuming the lobby for the morning, which was becoming my routine.

  Once inside the apartment, I kicked off my shoes and fixed myself a bowl of cereal. It had been a long time since the pizza Kendra and I had for lunch. I finished my cereal, settled into the recliner and watched a few minutes of some random TV cop show when the building alarm sounded off. At first I was startled, then terrified. I heard the clang of metal in the alley and rushed over to the windows. I saw a figure sprinting away around the corner and could see my back door standing wide open.

  I was confused that someone seemed to be breaking out, instead of breaking in. But I knew the police would respond to the alarm—the one George installed after Vince Dalton had broken in and vandalized the theater. It was kind of late, but I called George and Trudy. She picked up.

  “Trudy, I’m sorry to call so late. But the alarm is going off and I just saw someone running off down the alley.”

  “Have the police arrived yet?”

  “Not yet. Should I go downstairs to let them in?”

  “No. You stay put. We’ll be right there.

  In a couple of minutes my phone buzzed. The dispatcher asked me what was going on. I told her and she said for me to remain in my apartment and that officers would be there soon.

  Trudy called to say she was coming in the back and would tap on my door in just a minute. I let her in and locked the door behind her.

  She responded to the panicked look on my face with a big hug.

  “You’re okay, hon.”

  “Where’s George?”

  “He went through to the front to meet the cops when they arrive. You and I will just wait here until then.”

  I had just started recounting to Trudy what I’d seen when her phone rang. George said the police were here and for us to come down. As we got the bottom of the stairs, George peeked in from the hallway and escorted us to the lobby.

  I was less than thrilled to see the responding officer was Susie Stoneface, who greeted me with her usual charm.

  “What time did you lock up tonight?” she asked, staring at her notebook with pen in hand.

  “About ten thirty. An older couple staying at the hotel up the hill were the last to leave. I locked the door behind them.”

  “Did you do a walk-through downstairs before going up to your apartment?”

  “I always take a peek in the auditorium. And I cleaned up in both restrooms. I didn’t see anyone. But just after the alarm started blaring I heard a crash in the alley and ran to my window. I saw a figure running away around the corner and noticed my back door standing open.”

  “What did this figure look like? Male, female? Tall, short?”

  “I’m pretty sure it was a man, wearing dark clothes. Beyond that, I have no idea. I only got a glimpse of him disappearing around the corner.”

  “What do you do with the ticket and concession monies collected?”

  “I put the bank bag in a drop safe in the office.”

  “Have you checked the office?”

  “No, I stayed in my apartment waiting for you to get here.”

  “Let’s take a look.”

  The four of us walked past the bar and down the side hallway. The office door was locked. I opened it with my keys, but nothing looked disturbed.

  George said, “It looks like the basement door is open a crack. Have you been down there today, Halley?”

  I shook my head.

  Officer Stone shone her flashlight down the stairs before flipping on the light switch.

  “Y’all wait here for a minute.”

  She descended the stairs slowly as the three of us huddled in the doorway. I could see the beam of her flashlight dart about the room before she told me to come on down.

  “Can you tell if anything has been taken or disturbed?”

  “I don’t know if anything’s been taken. I don’t think there’s anything really valuable down here. But those boxes,” I said, pointing to a stack, “have been moved. They were against the wall and now they’re out in the center.”

  “Are you sure? It’s kind of a jumble down here.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I just recently brought those boxes down. It’s some of Uncle Leon’s…” I started to say junk, but stopped myself, “belongings that I packed up from the apartment.”

  Officer Stone said nothing and walked back up the stairs.

  “Let’s take a look at the back door.”

  We walked through and the door was still wide open.

  “I came through when I arrived, but didn’t touch the do
or,” Trudy said. “George walked through to the lobby to wait for you.”

  A couple of buckets that had been hanging on a rail were lying next to the dumpster.

  “I guess this is what made the clatter I heard,” I said.

  She looked closely at the door.

  “No sign of forced entry. Plus, you saw someone running away. It would seem someone hid in the theater until after you closed.”

  “Why would they break into the basement? I’m sure that door was locked,” I said.

  “Hmph,” she said as if she doubted me. “Even if it were, someone could make quick work picking the flimsy lock on the basement door. Maybe they had planned to look in the office for cash. But that heavy door and deadbolt deterred them, so they went downstairs hoping to score something for their trouble.”

  She turned to leave and spoke over her shoulder. “If you discover anything missing, or any more messages telling you to go home, give us a call.”

  George’s face was red and he started to say something, but Trudy patted his arm and shook her head.

  “Halley, I’d feel better if you stayed with us tonight.”

  “I’ll be fine, I—”

  Kendra suddenly appeared from around the end of the building.

  “Hey, what’s up? I just saw the cops leaving.”

  Trudy suggested we all go upstairs. I locked the back door and we went up to the apartment, where everyone but Trudy accepted my offer of a beer. I pulled over a dining chair as Kendra and Trudy sat down on the sofa. George claimed the recliner.

  “Okay, tell Kendra what happened. And as you go through it again, try to remember every detail,” Trudy said.

  I went through everything from locking up after the last customer onward.

  “Do you remember anyone acting oddly? Like some guy wandering the wrong direction to the men’s room? Or a man who had been hanging around while you were chatting with customers?” George asked.

  I tried to rummage through my memories of the evening.

  “Nope. Truth is, when I’m busy making lattes, I could miss someone slipping down the hall. And I did clean the ladies’ room first, so if a guy was hiding out in the men’s room, or even in the auditorium, he could have slipped out without my seeing. The question is, who would want to?”

  “What about Trey Tilby?” Kendra said. “The texts on his phone indicated he and Vince had a falling out. If they were partners in a treasure hunt, maybe Trey was following up on information Vince had dug up about a possible old tunnel entrance in the theater basement.”

  We exchanged glances, mulling over Trey as a suspect.

  “I know you only got a brief look at the intruder, but could it have been Trey?” George said. “And if so, maybe in the morning you could call and tell Susie that you’re not absolutely certain, but you think the guy you saw running away was Trey. Then they can rattle his cage a bit.” George said.

  “George, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. That guy is creepy. I don’t think we want to do anything to put Halley in his crosshairs,” Trudy said.

  I sat staring off into space, replaying the scene of the guy running away over in my mind as they talked about my next move.

  “Halley, what is it?” Kendra asked, reaching over and nudging me.

  “The thing is…while I can’t make a positive I.D., and as much as I’d like it to be Trey, I really don’t think it was him. He has more of an athletic build with long strides and, I don’t know, more confident movements. The man I saw seemed more like he was running scared and definitely didn’t have smooth or athletic moves. If I scan through the list of possible suspects in Vince’s murder, the person who springs to mind as the best fit for the person running away is Edgar.”

  “I’d like to go rattle that guy’s cage,” George said, doing that thing he does with his eyebrows when he’s riled up.

  “No, honey. I think we’d have more luck getting information from Edgar if Halley and I go by and have a quiet chat with him.”

  CHAPTER 24

  The next morning when I awoke, Eartha was curled up on the arm of the recliner. I must have slept soundly because I didn’t remember her arrival. She was pretty stealthy. I had finally shooed everyone out of the apartment last night after Trudy again made a plea for me to spend the night at their place and Kendra offered to stay and bunk on my sofa. Perhaps surprisingly, I felt perfectly safe in the apartment. Maybe it was knowing the alarm system worked just fine. Or maybe it was latching onto the notion that last night’s intruder was Edgar, rather than someone much scarier like Trey. Trudy called around seven thirty and we discussed strategy about confronting Edgar. She said she’d meet me at the theater at two thirty.

  At straight up eight o’clock I flipped the sign on the front door to open. My first customer walked in a couple of minutes later. It was an older man with a sweet smile, who was becoming a regular. He wasn’t that chatty, but he always nodded and tipped his hat to me when he said, “Good morning,” and I thought he was cute. He ordered his usual Americano to go. The thought that my little morning coffee service was already developing regulars made me happy. I hoped one day he’d take a seat and stay a while so I’d have a chance to learn his story.

  I got the theater cleaned up and ready for tonight’s show, then headed upstairs to change clothes before Trudy and I went to talk to Edgar. I considered putting on a Girl Power t-shirt to get myself pumped up for a confrontation. After some thought, I decided to wear a navy blue skirt and pink ruffled top to throw Edgar off his game. While I was getting dressed my cell phone buzzed. It was George, which concerned me a bit since he almost never phoned me.

  “Hi, George, what’s up?”

  “I just want to warn you not to get sucked in by Edgar Wentworth’s charm—the way some people have.”

  I could almost hear his eyes roll.

  “You can’t trust that guy as far as you can throw him. He’s a complete phony—even his hoity-toity British accent is phony. But don’t tell Trudy. She thinks he’s made of tea and scones and in line to the throne. I don’t want to shatter her illusions. Just be sure you don’t get taken in by his act, that’s all I’m saying.”

  “Don’t worry, George. I’ll be on my guard.”

  After I got off the phone, I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Trudy arrived on the dot and we walked over to the Tudor House Restaurant. It was teatime, but surprisingly the dining room was sparsely populated. Edgar rushed over to greet us just as he had before. Maybe it was my imagination, but he seemed a bit nervous. He pointed to a back corner booth, but Trudy suggested it would be better if we talked in his office. He was definitely acting nervous now, and it wasn’t my imagination.

  After Edgar ushered us into his well-appointed office outfitted with a huge mahogany desk and antique desk set with blotter and inkwell, Trudy and I took seats in vintage leather side chairs. He sat down behind his desk.

  “Now, what can I do for you ladies?”

  “I think it’s more a question of what we can do for you, Edgar—like sparing you a visit from the police,” Trudy said in a very businesslike tone.

  “I, I, I don’t know, wha, wha—”

  I interrupted him mid-stutter.

  “Edgar, I know it was you running out of my alley last night. After the benefit of some sleep, and replaying the scene in my head, I feel confident enough to tell the police I’m almost certain it was you. If you tell me why you were in my basement, and tell me the truth,” I said leaning forward to give him the full weight of my stare, “I may not need to bother the police with this.”

  He fell silent and looked back and forth between Trudy and me.

  “Edgar, breaking into Halley’s basement was behavior unbecoming for a gentleman like you,” Trudy said, shaking her head. “I think you better tell us what this is all about.”

  He heaved a heavy sigh.

 
“I was in the theater basement, but you have my word I didn’t take or damage anything.”

  “Why? What were you doing down there?” I asked.

  “Well, as I told you and Kendra previously, I was trying to gather enough plausible evidence to suggest Jesse James and his gang spent time in Utopia Springs and stashed some loot here. I was looking for some markings on the basement wall on the street side…”

  “If you thought there was evidence in the theater basement why didn’t you mention it to Kendra and me earlier? And why didn’t you just ask me if you could look around?”

  “I was afraid you were still upset with me. Besides, I didn’t know about it then. Honestly. I’ve been digging through the library archives with help from the reference librarian, and I happened across some papers that claimed there were markings on that wall in your basement. I couldn’t believe it, but running my hands across the back wall—I found them. If you look very closely some of them are visible.”

  He jumped up excitedly, unlocked the credenza behind the desk and pulled out a sheet of white copy paper folded in half.

  “I tried to shoot some photographs with my phone camera, but the markings didn’t show up, so I did an old-fashioned pencil rubbing. It’s faint, but you can see it here. Notice the anchor-shaped facing ‘Js’—like the ones on the notorious boot.”

  He placed the paper on the desk and switched on a banker’s lamp beside it. Trudy and I leaned forward to take a closer look.

  “You believe these markings were made by Jesse James?” I asked, doubtfully.

  “No, they definitely were not made by Jesse James. But they could’ve been made by some treasure hunters, probably in the 1930s, who believed that wall adjoined a collapsed tunnel which may connect to the original springs cavern. As I told you before, I’m trying to come up with evidence that would entice my cable documentary friend to shoot an episode here in town. And this could help.”

  “Wait a minute. Halley, wasn’t it the reference librarian who squealed on Kendra when she looked through the archives about the buried treasure?” Trudy asked.