A Cup of Murder (6 page)

I cringed when I reflected on my hesitation
earlier to reassure him about his innocence.

Chapter Seven

With Thor alongside me, I arrived at Roasted Love.
His eyes begged me to invite him in. I commanded him to stay and
returned with a large bowl of water. I had no idea where his leash
was and had failed to purchase one when getting the dog food, so I
trusted him to stay close.

Though it was early in the morning, Janie and
Jacob were already as busy as we used to be in the days before
Sunrise. The patrons were chatting and I noticed conversations
centered more on their normal activities rather than the murder of
Michael Simms. I picked up on snippets of opinions, but none like the
past two days. I silently commended Jacob for his vow to be visible
to all. They could see he had not been arrested so that seemed the
reassurance they needed. The day continued in a normal manner even
though bits of yellow tape continued to hang on across the street. By
one o’clock most of the noonday crowd returned to their own
activities.

"I’m going out for some lunch today,"
I told Jacob. "I’ll be back soon before mid-afternoon gets
busy."

He nodded and I felt our relationship had returned
to normal even after yesterday’s exchange. Neither of us knew
appropriate words to mend any of it, but since we had known each
other a long time that alone kept us drawn in a partnership. I headed
for Sam’s Sandwiches after retrieving my laptop from my car and
walked the two blocks down the street. Thor wanted to come along but
when I commanded him to stay, he did that and I was thankful Michael
had instilled obedience in the dog.

"Hi, Laila," someone called from a shop
door.

I turned to see Mary Lynne, owner of Beads and
Bangles. Mary Lynne was a woman in her fifties. I knew her as a
friendly person who found it hard to leave the mentality of the
sixties, indicated by her peasant-styled long skirt and gypsy blouse.
Dark black hair was adorned with glittering rhinestones and small red
beads that matched a long necklace twined in layers around her neck.
I stopped to talk with her for a couple of minutes.

"How are things going on your end of the
street?" she asked.

"I think we are getting back to normal. The
yellow tape is still around Sunrise so I guess the police are still
going through the place."

She smiled and I noted sympathy in her dark eyes.
"Jacob Weaver didn’t kill Michael Simms," she said. She
turned to go back inside just as a customer entered but not before
she waved to me over her shoulder.

It was only when I ordered my favorite at Sam’s,
watercress and goat cheese on wheat and tall glass of unsweetened
tea, did I remember Mary Lynne thought of herself as some kind of
fortune teller. I shook the idea from my head that she would know
Jacob was not a murderer. She was simply being a good friend and
besides, I didn’t believe in fantasy, the paranormal or psychics.
After greeting several people, I started my research. I sat in a
corner at a table away from the other customers. Sam wasn’t
surprised to see me there with my laptop. I came here often enough
whenever I needed a different scene to break my day.

Opening my laptop, I searched the name 'Michael
Simms'. There was plenty about his recent demise. I skipped over it
all and went to his bio written by a reporter who had known him in
the past when both were in college. I looked at that information
twice. Michael had been brilliant. That was something I already
sensed about him, but had no idea he had gone to Harvard. He finished
with a Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration and Management.
That was the end of his formal education.

"I wonder how he ever ended up with a coffee
house," I said under my breath.

"You know it’s not good to talk to
yourself, Laila," said Sam. He stood there with an iced tea
pitcher in his hand and a grin on his face that told me he thought
his humor was his best asset. I smiled back.

"I know that, but sometimes it helps to make
sense of things. You should try it sometime."

He refilled my glass and went on to other
customers and I returned to my exploration of Michael Simms. It
turned out that his father was big on Wall Street and had retired as
an Analyst. In the bio, his father was mentioned, but his brother was
described in more detail than Michael himself. James Simms. I read
how the Senator became interested in politics from an early age and
climbed his way up. His constituents admired him and were loyal to
him all the way to the Senate. It stated Senator Simms’ best friend
had also been his campaign manager through several elections.

There was nothing immediately said about Michael’s
mother until after his brother and father were described. It was
mentioned she had a career as an Accountant in a prestigious
financial institution and died a decade ago as a result of a car
accident while on vacation with friends in the Hamptons.

While considering Michael Simms’ status in a
life of wealth and power, I sensed someone watching me. My eyes met
those of the paramedic who had been at the crime scene on the Piazza.
He was even more handsome up close and he hesitated when I caught his
eye.

"Do you want to join me?" I asked.

Usually I wasn’t so forward in inviting someone
I only knew from afar to sit at a table in a restaurant with me.
Instinct told me he was happy to get the invitation. My motive for
inviting him was an ulterior one. I wanted to get some first-hand
information about the infamous day at Sunrise.

"Sure," he says. He strides toward me
and sits down across from me. I closed the notebook and waited until
the server took his order of roast beef with au jus sandwich, my
second favorite.

"Just what did happen to cause Michael Simms’
death?"

I wasn’t one to beat around the bush. If he
hadn’t smiled I would have controlled my breathing better. As it
happened, he drew me in like a magnet. I didn’t even know his name.
Perhaps that should come first.

"I’m Laila Rook, by the way," I said.

"I’m Daniel Jenkins, a paramedic as you
already seem to know." He leaned back comfortably. Amusement
danced in his dark eyes. "The investigation is still open and I
can’t give you confidential information."

"I’m a reporter from the local newspaper
and aware that the media is allowed to ask and hopefully get
information. We have an obligation to keep the public informed."

My brazen statements caused him to laugh out loud
and he leaned back even farther. I hoped the chair would topple as my
face turned to light pink. I squirmed realizing all eyes were on the
table in the corner.

"You are no reporter and we both know that,"
he said. He spoke only when he caught his breath long enough to do
so. "I’ve been in Roasted Love more than a few times and I
happen to know you are the Barista there. More importantly, why are
you so interested in Michael Simms’ murder investigation?"

"I’ll tell you that if you answer my
questions."

There was an impasse that caused a silence between
us. The server arrived with a pitcher of tea in one hand and she
reached for Daniel’s glass to take it for a refill of coke. I
refused more tea and glanced at my watch. I had fifteen minutes
before I had to get back to Roasted Love. I broke the standoff.

"I have only a few minutes until I have to
get back to work," I said. "I want information because the
murder happened across the street from where I work and because it is
a known fact that Sunrise was in fierce competition with Roasted
Love."

"So you really aren’t a reporter?"

I decided his sense of humor was better than him
just getting up and walking out on me.

"No, I’m not a reporter. I am curious about
your reaction when you brought Michael’s body out on the stretcher
that day. You appeared sad."

Daniel’s face grew somber. His muscular hand
that encircled the cold glass of coke tightened and then relaxed.

"I’ve known the Simms family for quite a
few years. It goes back to when James first ran for a local office in
his district in New York City. He was running for the office of
Mayor, the one of few elections he lost. Someone in his campaign
office suffered an asthma attack," he said. "I was in the
car with my dad who was a paramedic at the time. He got the word
someone needed assistance and he drove there right away. We were only
a few blocks from the office and he was off-duty but the closest
paramedic to the scene. Watching my dad perform CPR that day clinched
it for me that I wanted to follow in his footsteps."

I still wasn’t sure that knowing the brother
brought him close to Michael. He went on to tell me he had met
Michael off and on since then. The man who had the asthma attack was
James’ campaign manager and friend, John Andrews.

"The Senator and John were the only ones in
the office at the time. All three of those men were good friends. It
was just hard to see Michael dead that day."

"I’m sorry," I said. "That makes
sense that it hit you especially hard." I glanced at my watch.
"I apologize but I really need to get back to work."

Daniel reached for both tickets before I could
pick mine up. After thanking him, I said, "I am interested in
clearing my boss’s name. Jacob Weaver is a suspect in Michael’s
death."

He expressed a sincere sympathy and a genuine
understanding. Once more I was drawn in to him in more ways than I
wanted to think about at the moment. The connection was broken when
the skies turned dark and a clap of thunder was heard in the
distance. Rolling clouds told me sheets of rain were about to pour
and I was stuck at Sam’s Sandwiches with no car and no umbrella.

"I’m walking and I have to hurry back to
Roasted Love before I get caught in a downpour," I said. "I
have to check on my dog, too. I left him outside."

I grabbed my purse and headed for the door.
Daniel’s hand grabbed my arm sending a jolt through me.

"What? You are a reporter and you walk
everywhere?" he said smiling at me.

The twinkle in his eye caused a slight pink in my
cheeks. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I blushed,
but thought it must have been back in high school or earlier. The
laugh that escaped my lips couldn’t be helped.

"Come on, Laila Rook, Reporter, I’ll give
you a ride back. What kind of dog do you have?"

I didn’t want to answer that, so ignored his
question and braced myself for the rain that had begun. The paramedic
opened the passenger side of his Rav and I hopped in just as the sky
opened up. By the time Daniel plopped in the driver’s seat his dark
hair glistened with drops of rain. The rain pummeled harder and we
agreed that we got to shelter just in time. When we passed Mary
Lynne’s Beads and Bangles she was standing in the window of her
shop watching the storm. It was as if she expected me to pass her
shop while riding in a Rav with a man I didn’t know. She recognized
me right away in the blinding rain and lifted her tapered hand in a
greeting. She seemed so sure of her proclamation, but I didn’t have
a clear view.

I wanted to ask Daniel a million questions about
the murder of Michael Simms but in no time at all we had arrived at
the back door of Roasted Love. I scanned the area for Thor who was
nowhere in sight. He must have found shelter someplace, I thought. I
was sure the neighborhood was familiar enough for him to do that.

"Come on in for a latte or espresso and get
dry," I said.

He had jumped from his side and raced to my door
to open it. We were both drenched and he looked like a wet rag
waiting to be wrung out. My own appearance was nothing to brag about.
I dashed ahead of him and got inside and grabbed a couple of large
dish towels. He followed me and I was relieved he refrained from any
comments or further questions about Thor. I wondered what he would
think knowing I had Michael’s dog.

"Looks like you got a little wet," said
Jacob. "I told you Roasted Love could make a watercress sandwich
for you if you would just tell me what the secret ingredients are
that take you to Sam’s to eat."

He swept his eyes over Daniel and I quickly
introduced him. I didn’t tell him he was the paramedic and the one
who carried Michael Simms out of Sunrise the day of his murder. But
when Jacob responded to the introduction no doubt was left that he
knew that.

"You're the paramedic who helped out across
the street, aren’t you?" said Jacob.

"Yes, I was on call that day," said
Daniel.

I recalled that specific morning when I arrived at
Roasted Love and found Jacob in an almost fetal position in the
corner of the kitchen. Wondering how he had seen Daniel was a mystery
unless he had first witnessed the commotion and then collapsed. It
was time to change the subject.

"Come on in, Daniel," I said. "What
can I get for you?"

He ordered a cappuccino with extra cinnamon on
top. I went to the espresso machine and started his order. Lily came
up behind me.

"Where did you find such a good-looking
customer?" she said. "I saw you bring him through the back
way."

Inwardly, I groaned. There was nothing to explain
but I still felt it necessary to do so.

"He was nice enough to give me a lift from
Sam’s Sandwiches. I thought at least I could get him a warm drink
as a 'thank you'.

"I see now why you like Sam’s for lunch on
occasion," she said. "I always knew it wasn’t the
watercress sandwiches."

She looked over her shoulder and laughed. I
watched as she set the cappuccino in front of Daniel. Our eyes met
and I hoped that wasn’t a wink from him directed at me. Turning
back to my work, I resolved to hold the reddish tint from creeping up
my neckline. Roasted Love was busy enough since some customers
ordered seconds while waiting out the rain. My attention was drawn
elsewhere and Jacob was busy bringing out more scones. He glanced my
way but I couldn’t read his thoughts.