A Cup of Murder (Roasted Love Cozy 1)

Her eyes were downcast and she couldn’t bring herself to look me in the eye. It wasn’t as if the news surprised me. I mean about Jen and Michael having an affair; what other reason was there for the obvious signs I observed from a distance, especially the looks and touches they openly exchanged.

I promised nothing more than what she understood already. When I returned to my job inside, Jacob had settled down somewhat and was in the office working with the spreadsheet on his computer. I waved to him and gave a weak smile in his direction. Apparently, no one had questioned him yet, but I felt sure they would before the day ended.

Janie met me at the door to the kitchen, “Is Jacob doing alright?”

“I think so. Hard to tell for sure.” I told her.

“O.K. It's past my time to clock out. Time got away from me. Sorry about that.” she said as she headed toward the time clock. It was now two p.m.

“I have to ask you, Laila, should we worry that Jacob had anything to do with Michael Simm’s death?”

I pulled her aside to be out of earshot of Jacob. “I just can't believe that Jacob had anything to do with it,” I reassured her, not sure I believed it myself. It's true he disliked the man intensely, but that doesn't mean he murdered him, right?

“Please don't talk about this with anyone. I want to make sure we don't start any rumors and put Jacob or Roasted Love in a worse situation,” I cautioned her with severity. Janie had worked here a little over a year. She needed this job. She had a two-year old daughter she had to support. Besides, she was good at her job; efficient and friendly. I felt I could trust her but I noted the doubt in her eyes about Jacob Weaver.

“I know he was in prison for assault,” she said.

“I know, but that was also eleven years ago and he has had a clean slate ever since then. That’s the part to remember.”

I locked eyes with her and, satisfied she would be discreet, I told her to go ahead and clock out. Lily was serving delicate crust-less sandwiches and salads to a few customers. I had suggested that to Jacob and it proved to be an added touch for afternoons to draw more people in. We recently added light food to an evening menu. It was a successful move on our part and afternoons rarely lagged without someone in the coffee shop. This was before Michael Simms opened his business across from Roasted Love. Lately, the scarcity of numbers was evident but enough still came for that afternoon break.

In response, Sunrise had added a small book corner to one side with tables for two scattered around so avid readers could enjoy exotic coffee flavors while perusing books at the same time. The competition was fierce between the two shops. Unfortunately, most people noticed the personal rivalry between the two owners, rather than innovations. Sometimes I thought that rivalry alone drew them and caused sides to be taken.

A customer entered the shop. I recognized him as a politician whose face was plastered around town just before the last election. At the moment I couldn’t think of his name. I knew he belonged to a party I didn’t follow and that he had won with a landslide. I should be ashamed that I'm not more politically active. Lily waited on him and he ordered an espresso. I carefully prepared it and added the steamed milk. I put it on the counter for Lily and she picked it up and brought it to the man. He thanked her with an absent nod and sipped slowly while he kept his eyes on the yellow tape across the street. After about fifteen minutes, he paid Lily at the counter and left. She was busy with other customers who had drifted in and I didn’t get a chance to ask her if she knew who he was.

Jacob emerged from the back. He seemed to remain at loose ends but color had returned to his face. “Laila, I’m sorry about the way I lashed out at you last evening before you left. I won’t let that happen again.”

I assured him it was fine and accepted his apology though his actions still stung somewhat. To get his mind off of the situation at Sunrise I told him I thought it would be a good idea for us to go over our policies and services again. I knew now it was less important, but someone would probably come in and take Sunrise over in time. It was good to be prepared for the future. It was also necessary to keep things normal at Roasted Love.

“Why not come by my house around seven tonight and we can make a plan so our business will get back on track,” I said. “I’d rather meet with you away from here. We could use a break from Roasted Love.”

He agreed and the idea of moving forward seemed to spur him on. He personally greeted the few customers he knew and said hello to some new ones. It reassured me they still looked at him as someone harmless. There was one person who did not look familiar at all. That made two new customers today.

Now if the cops would leave Jacob alone for another twenty-four hours that would give him time to look at things in a different manner. I was sure Jacob had not committed the murder but proving it would be something else entirely.

I vowed to do all I could to prove his innocence.

Chapter Five

Jacob Weaver stood at my door and rang the bell at five after seven that evening. He clutched a bouquet of lilies and handed them to me.

“This is my peace offering,” he said.

The grin on his face spread wide and once more I saw the old Jacob again. I took them with thanks and he followed me to the kitchen to fill a vase with water and back to my living room. I set the beautiful lilies on the end table next to my favorite paisley chair. He was on my heels until I gestured

toward the matching love seat and told him to make himself comfortable.

“I’ve been thinking about my bad behavior, Laila. I can’t believe I’ve let my temper rise up like that. There was something about Michael Simms that never sat well with me. It scares me when I think about how much he affected me.” He looked at me with a look similar to a schoolboy caught cheating and realized it was too late to study first. “That’s no excuse for my behavior. I know I shouldn’t let people get to me like that.”

Instead of getting into ways to improve Roasted Love, we spent the time discussing the recent murder. We both tried to come up with plausible reasons for anyone to have taken resentment to the extent of murder. Until I told him, Jacob was unaware that there was suspicion that Michael had been poisoned. The whole time we talked we both knew that the cops most likely would have their own take on the murder, and that involved Jacob Weaver. I decided to change the subject.

“Who was the man you introduced yourself to in Roasted Love?” I asked.

“He said his name was Pierre. He is an artist and commented on the works on the wall. I invited him to bring his works in and let me see them.”

“Did he have any with him? I noticed he didn’t order anything.”

“He told me he worked in a small studio in a loft where he lived. I believe he told me it was about a mile from the Piazza. We didn’t set a time for him to come in, but I told him I was there every day and to come in when he was ready.”