A Cup of Murder (Roasted Love Cozy 1)

“You weren’t here at the time, were you?” I asked.

Everyone knew how much I abhorred gossip.

“No, but they were here and heard Jacob make threatening remarks about Mr. Simms. I’m just telling you that rumors are starting.”

My heart lodged very close to my throat. Jacob, innocent or not was already condemned and I knew it was only a matter of time before word would spread quickly up and down the Piazza. I knew I should talk with Jacob but I wasn’t ready for that yet. I figured I was still more than a little angry with him for lashing out at me the evening before. His stupid mistakes of flying off the handle more than once in front of patrons did not help his innocence.

From behind the counter I watched as the paramedic’s face swerved around to a clearer view from my vantage point. Distress lined his face.

“That’s odd,” I said. Janie’s look was one of questioning, but I ignored her.

It was odd that this paramedic looked so distressed when surely he was used to all kinds of accidents.

“Nothing, Janie, I didn’t mean anything by that.”

The paramedic’s face looked familiar to me and I remembered he was an occasionally customer here. The ambulance remained where it was and two more cops gathered at the back of it. By this time, the small early morning crowd on the Piazza had grown to the point where the cops had to hold them back. Most were curious onlookers along with familiar shop owners who watched the activity with great interest. Several in the crowd who could pull their eyes away from the scene glanced toward the Roasted Love coffee house. My attention was brought back to conversations in the shop.

“I think the man is dead,” commented one customer who had been there since I came in. “The ambulance isn’t going anywhere.

Her companion nodded his head in agreement. All eyes remained glued to the window. The whirring of coffee machines stood silent. I moved toward the stool behind the counter and sat down before my legs buckled under me. From where I sat, the whimpering that came from the kitchen could be heard droning on. The doors of Roasted Love swung open and more customers came into the shop. No one wanted to leave the area and they chose tables where they could continue to watch. A few stood when all chairs were taken.

Determined no one was getting a free seat, I motio

ned to Janie to start waiting on them while I readied myself at the machines. Some looked up in surprise when Janie asked what they wanted. They hurriedly gave their orders for expressos and frappes. At least I had something constructive to do. The ambulance sitting there didn’t help my nerves. There was no reason to hurry to a hospital by now. Finally it began to move slowly away from the crowds and picked up speed at the end of the street. It's sirens and lights never coming to life. The next person to see Michael Simms would be the coroner.

“Did you see the body bag?” said one customer to all who cared to listen. “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen something like that.”

Her voice was on the verge of elation and excitement at the sight she witnessed. Voices ripped through the coffee house and everyone had an opinion. I turned to hand the latest order to Janie when I spotted Jen Perry across the street. She gestured toward Roasted Love while talking with a cop. Things were too busy for me to approach Jacob Weaver, though by now I was ready to talk seriously with him. I had a lot of questions to ask him. Jen’s insinuation that I observed wouldn’t be a helpful factor.

The second server, Lily arrived for her shift. “I’m sorry I’m a little late but I had to park a couple of blocks from here. What’s going on around here?”

“It appears that Michael Simms is dead,” I said. “The cops have been all over the area and the ambulance left a few minutes ago.”

We made eye contact and the shock on her face told me I had to get her back to reality. I put her in charge of the machines so I could slip back to speak with Jacob. He still cowered in the corner. He looked beaten and subdued. I pulled up two folded chairs and told him to sit down. While he repositioned himself, I took a tray of fresh sticky buns and cheese scones to the front and returned to him. He stared at the floor. Sweat dotted his head and face. Fingers twisted uncontrollably, opening and closing in succession.

“Do you know what happened to Michael Simms?” I asked him point-blank.

“I don’t know who hurt him, but I know there are plenty of witnesses to say I held a grudge against him.”

I didn’t see any better way to let him know the facts other than to just come out and say it. “He’s more than hurt,” I said. “He’s dead.” His face turned ashen. His sapphire blue eyes indicated panic and his massive frame sank.

“I had nothing to do with any of this,” he said. “I know everyone will think I killed him, but I didn’t do that. I did not know he was hurt until I heard people talking.”

His voice was vehement. I knew I had to ask questions the police were sure to ask soon enough.

“When did you leave here last night?”

He told me he calmed himself down after I left and sat in the small office off the kitchen to go over the books. He reminded me it was the end of the month and so that seemed plausible. It was true that about this time he always went over the books and checked all transactions a second time. When I asked him if Sunrise was still open when he left, he told me only the street lights outside were on. He was sure the business had closed for the night but hadn’t paid attention. He left around ten to go home.

“I was late getting to bed but that was because I watched television for a while and fell asleep in my chair,” he explained. “I over-slept this morning and came in just a few minutes after Janie opened up.”

Jacob lived alone three blocks from his coffee shop. He had been married until his prison stint when his wife told him it was over between them for good. When I asked him what landed him in jail for three years, he told the story of a man who stalked his wife and started harassing her. It was scaring her. Jacob searched for him and beat him up. He was charged with premeditated assault. The victim stayed in the hospital for several weeks. The violent side of Jacob scared his wife and she decided she wanted a new life. If he dated anyone after prison I was not aware of it. He had a few buddies that socialized regularly and, generally speaking, he made friends easily.

“Were you alone last night or did a friend or two come over?” I asked him.

He muttered he had been alone the whole time. I didn’t think the police were going to simply let any gaps in his whereabouts go unchecked, but hopefully they intended to question a lot of people. But facts were facts. Jacob displayed anger and resentment of Michael Simms more than once in front of our customers. That was especially true in the last few days as we lost more of them to Sunrise. I had known him for the past four years and couldn’t fathom his anger leading to murder. More than once he vowed privately to me that he would never go to prison again. I could only imagine how bad it must have been for him.

For that matter, I felt sure Michael Simms had plenty of enemies of his own. Who wouldn’t have enemies with an arrogant attitude like the one that even other shop vendors felt the brunt of. It must have taken something big to instill an attitude so firmly rooted in him. On the other hand, he had been a sort of enigma. He must have had charisma when it came to pleasing customers or they wouldn’t have flocked to his coffee house so easily. If he had been rude to them, even Jen would have lost her power to hold them there. Things weren’t looking so good for Jacob Weaver but the police had not approached him yet. That may or may not be a good sign. I remembered how Jen gestured our way while talking with the policeman. Her sandy hair had flipped for emphasis and that gesture wasn’t lost on the young cop. My body felt weak and I didn’t trust my legs to stand strong. For now I remained sitting next to Jacob.