A Cup of Murder (8 page)

"You both look very happy in this
photograph."

James shifted and looked at the picture. "That
was definitely in our better times. Loyalty meant something to
Michael then."

The Michael Simms mystery took on a different
aspect in my mind, and it was at that moment that I knew I was cut
out to be a full-fledged detective in this case.

James led me to believe the changes in Michael
happened somewhat suddenly. Could it be related to his murder?

Chapter Nine

During the interview with the Simms couple, no
opportunity to find out what Sarah Simms did outside the condo
presented itself. I could not shake the plush living quarters from my
mind and decided she spent her time in a social life of her own. Her
remarks about Michael’s opinions regarding the working poor told me
she didn’t do charity work. At least no charity work that followed
along the lines of helping the less fortunate. My curiosity about her
drove me to resolve to research the lives of Senator Simms’ family,
specifically Sarah Simms.

When I returned from New York City that evening I
stopped to pick up Thor. I hoped Jacob and my dog had hit it off
well. When my boss opened the front door, Thor eagerly greeted me
wagging his tail with excitement. His almond shaped eyes lit up, if a
dog’s eyes can do that. I smelled fresh coffee brewing.

"I’ll get you a cup of coffee," said
Jacob.

Thor followed behind him. A tinge of jealousy shot
through me when I thought they hit it off too well. Of course, to
Thor, a kitchen meant food and he was disappointed when Jacob didn’t
hand any to him. When we sat down, Thor settled at my feet and I was
happy to know where his allegiance was.

"I put my own special ingredients in your
coffee," said Jacob.

I have to admit that comment shook me somewhat. It
seemed a bit out of line considering the circumstances, but Jacob had
seemed a bit unstable lately. I took a sip right away to let him know
I didn’t suspect him of poisoning Michael, or in this case, me. The
taste had a richness that was delicious.

"This tastes better than at Roasted Love,"
I said.

There was an underlying feeling that his comment
had meant to be a test. Maybe he was still hurt at my hesitation in
voicing his innocence the day he asked me. I chided myself that I was
reading things that weren’t there. Right now, I needed to relax.

"Have the police been back to question you?"
I asked.

"They did so again as I was closing the shop
today around five. With no evidence, because there is none, they
didn't arrest me as you can see."

He set his coffee mug on the glass top table in
front of him and leaned back.

"Laila, I will admit that when Michael died,
a part of me was more than glad. It was a huge relief that it
happened. I was getting tired of the constant battling between the
coffee houses and it was making me crazy. The more I think about it,
the more I realize his family and friends are suffering from his
loss. I’m beginning to look at the incident itself and how some
people are probably affected by it. I think of the whole incident
more than my opponent no longer here to compete with."

His demeanor was one of remorse. I thought the
liberation of not having the owner of Sunrise in his life had
something to do with it, whether he realized it or not. A burden had
been lifted from Jacob and he appeared the same as before Michael
entered our lives.

"I agree with that. I’m sure his family is
sad about the whole matter," I said. I hesitated and then said,
"I went to New York City to meet with his brother James Simms,
the Senator, today."

Jacob sat up straight. "Why did you meet with
him?"

"I'm investigating the murder of Michael."

The cloud rose in his face, the same one I
recently witnessed whenever Jacob felt he had to defend himself from
murdering Michael. The teddy bear transformed to a deeply angered man
in a matter of seconds.

"Why would you get involved in something so
dangerous? That is pure recklessness on your part. People get killed
when they get into situations like that."

"Situations like what?" I asked. "I
simply wanted to talk with him."

"You have no experience in solving murders
and it is impossible to understand why you would do something like
that. Don’t get involved with matters out of your league."

"You may not realize it, Jacob, but you are
still under suspicion for his murder. I only wanted to step in and do
a little investigating on my own. I plan to take anything concrete
that I find to the police. The goal is to exonerate you."

He glared at me and stood up. Thor’s low growl
told me the dog was smart enough to be on guard.

"Keep out of this, Laila," he said in
measured tones. "I can take care of myself."

He grabbed his coffee and left Thor and me in a
dumbfounded state as he stepped onto his patio and slammed the back
door. Fear slithered upward in me like a snake trying to find refuge
from an enemy. In my haste to gather Thor and his remaining food by
the door, I knocked my coffee cup over. Quickly, I reached for
whatever I could find to wipe the spill up. As it happened, there
were newspapers on the coffee table and I picked up the top sheets.
After soaking most of the small pile I pulled the drier pages apart.
My intention was to spread them out to dry in case Jacob wanted to
read them. It was then that I froze at what I saw.

"Sell Sunrise of else" printed with a
black magic marker exposed itself in plain sight. The word ‘else’
was in dark red. I heard the back door open. I scrambled to bury the
note back where I hoped it had been.

At the doorway to the living room Jacob looked at
me. I grabbed the remaining dog food bag and hurried for the front
door. Thor followed all too willingly.

"I have to get home. It is getting late,"
I said to Jacob. "Thanks for keeping Thor for me."

He remained standing where he was. His silence
told me he knew I had seen the threat in black and red letters. For
the first time, I knew Jacob Weaver was a threat to me as well.

With Thor at my heels, my reaction of fear
mimicked the day the dog tried to attack me, only this fear ran much
deeper and the source was no animal. My hands shook violently when I
put the key in the ignition. Thor sat upright, straight as a board in
the back seat. I counted on him hanging on as I spun away.

Chapter Ten

When I walked into my living room I felt renewed
peace around familiar surroundings. After I fed Thor and let him
outside for a while, I relaxed in my easy chair and picked up the
remote control for the TV. I needed a good distraction right now.
Thoughts of Jacob’s reactions during the evening were something I
wanted to push to the back of mind until I calmed down. I began to
search for a good movie when there was a knock on my door. My
immediate reaction was one of tenseness and I wondered who it could
be. Looking through the peephole I saw that it was Jacob. I debated
the idea of letting him in. After a few seconds, I opened the door.

Neither of us spoke and he hesitated before coming
on in. "I’m sorry, Laila for interrupting your evening but I
want to explain some things."

I stepped back and he came in. I gestured to the
chair and he lowered his frame easily. We looked at each other and
finally I asked him to explain whatever it was he felt he needed to
explain to me. Still on my guard, I was ready to hit 911 on my cell
phone if needed.

"I know you saw the note I wrote to Michael.
I was caught up in the rivalry and it was to be a response to his
written threats to me. Two of his notes were worded exactly the same
in black and red letters except he printed Roasted Love instead of
Sunrise, of course."

It was hard to wrap my head around the juvenile
actions of two grown men. I couldn’t find any words to answer Jacob
and he picked up again on his explanation.

"I was sucked into his drama and made the
mistake of playing things his way. I have no idea why I did that. The
police are well aware of the problems between us."

Looking at the beaten man in front of me caused me
to soften my attitude a little. There was no doubt that Jacob would
be more likely to lash out in anger toward Michael Simms with a
direct confrontation rather than passing notes back and forth like
school boys. Any response to written threats like that by Jacob
seemed out of character for the man I thought I knew. He didn’t
mince words of strong dislike for Michael. He never cared who
witnessed him. His spurts of anger came suddenly and there was no
control over his emotions at times like that.

Above all, I was sure he wouldn’t step foot into
Sunrise and I doubt Michael would have wanted to meet him in his own
coffee shop that late, or at all. I sat down across from my boss.

"Was the note I saw the only one you have?"

"It’s the only one I have at my house. I
wrote it at home and planned to put it at his door in the next day or
so. I have no idea if Michael kept any. I sent him one other one
about a week ago."

There were no words when he said that. If any
notes were found by police then it would only prove another strike
against Jacob. Evidence like that was a sure cause for arrest. The
sick feeling that crept around in my stomach didn’t let up. At this
point I found it hard to listen to more incrimination. I opted to go
for practical observations in the whole matter.

"Jacob, whoever killed Michael is a
methodical person. It is someone who is particular about details and
gets his or her way in an underhanded manner. The person had to have
patience and wait for his chance. Somehow you just don’t fit that
profile when it comes to the way he was murdered."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the way your anger rises up with no
warning signs tells me you wouldn’t have planned every little
detail. You just would not have had the patience to wait for the
right moment."

I threw a winning smile in his direction. For
once, I thought his trait of spontaneous irritation might serve him
well in this case.

"You mentioned a couple days ago that there
was suspicion that he was poisoned. Is that confirmed? Do you know
what kind of poison was used?" he asked.

There was no way I was going to reveal what Daniel
Jenkins had told me and so I feigned ignorance of details like that.

"That brings another point to make. Unless
you have access to poisonous chemicals we have to conclude someone
else did. I just don’t know who at this point."

"Laila," Jacob said, his voice deep and
almost guttural."I know you've been investigating as a favor to
me, but you need to stop. Whoever killed Michael isn't messing
around. Don't get yourself killed over this."

"Jacob," I say, clapping my hand on his
big shoulder. "Follow me."

I led him into my bedroom. I had put up a
corkboard and pinned notes of information I had so far in order of
discovery. His name, comments and actions were set apart from the
chronological order of the main part of the board which now resembled
lodgepole pines with perfectly straight branches. There was a name at
the top of each ‘branch.’

"We should think of other business owners who
had a vendetta with Michael Simms," I said. "He brushed
against more people than you."

"That’s true, Laila. Enough business owners
down the street have had problems with him in the past...but, I bet
they weren't hotheaded enough to respond to Michael's threats."

"Do you still have the ones he wrote to you?"

"I think I tore them up but I may have them
around my desk someplace."

"Let’s hope you can find them before the
police decide to search Roasted Love and find only your written
threats. You don't have any other threats in your house, do you? The
police will probably search that too if they find any more evidence
against you."

"I practiced writing more notes than you
found tonight," he said. "I wanted to duplicate the way he
threatened me. I did that at work."

The more I realized how deep the rivalry between
the coffee house owners had gone, the more I knew Jacob had done a
good job of convicting himself. The immature actions on the parts of
two grown men definitely had gone too far.

"My suggestion is for you to find all
exchanges with Michael tonight and get rid of them in your home.
Early tomorrow do the same thing at Roasted Love. For now, let’s
get back to my corkboard. You can help me see things I haven’t
figured out yet."

I glanced in his direction and saw him look at his
name in bold print down the left side of the board. He may as well
know I was picking at him just like anyone else that could be the
murderer. He commented on how many times I had his name and actions
up there.

"I had to put everything I’ve observed so
far and you have to admit, Jacob, that your behavior has been a
little erratic since Michael Simms first opened Sunrise."

He nodded his head. "It’s good, I guess, to
see it written down and I know that once the cops interview people
about me a little more, they won’t have to see it in writing. Just
listening to them will give the same picture as what you have pinned
up here."

"What about Michael’s wife?" asked
Jacob. "I heard they didn’t get along so well."

"I’ve thought about her but haven’t
gotten anything up there yet. Jen told me she and Michael were having
an affair. He broke it off, telling her he wanted to mend his
relationship with his wife. It is all hearsay but she could be a
suspect."

I wrote ‘Michael’s wife’ on an index card,
noted possible resentment at his affairs from her standpoint and
pinned it on the top right side. I provided each suspect with their
own column. I commented to Jacob that she would be someone who would
meet with Michael at the coffee house. I didn’t even know her name
at this point. I'm sure it was mentioned in the article I had read
about Michael, but her name seemed to be a footnote in comparison to
his and his family's accomplishments.