"Well, you can think what you want. That’s what it was all about."
Not only would I plan to get to Roasted Love when Janie opened the next day, I planned to be there at least fifteen minutes earlier. I didn’t want her there alone. I even thought about asking her for her keys to Roasted Love but decided not to.
By the time Friday rolled around Lily was at my side. Her eyes were sunken.
"Are you o.k.?" I asked her.
"I’m not sleeping well. When I get home I’m so dead tired I can’t unwind. It’s the end of the week. Did you ask Jacob about hiring more help? I can’t keep up this pace much longer, Laila. It would help a little if you would extend Janie’s hours to help get us through the afternoon customers."
"I’ll get something done by the weekend. Do you have any ideas of who may want to work here? I need someone we can count on."
"How about hiring Jen Perry? She knows the business of a coffee house and I hear she has been thrown out of any chance of running Sunrise. I think whoever buys it will turn it into something else anyway."
I wasn’t so sure Jen Perry was my answer. I needed Jacob here to make decisions like this. I didn’t think he would go for the idea of hiring someone who had been so close to Michael Simms in more ways than one.
"Let’s post something on the board at the front for a few days. We may get some leads that way. Ask around, too. I’m not sure Jacob would go for hiring Jen Perry, but I’ll ask him."
Having something concrete to do to solve her over-worked dilemma gave Lily a purpose. She printed out a help wanted note and placed it at the front of Roasted Love.
"I didn’t know Janie knew the Senator," I said changing the subject.
Lily looked at me in surprise. "I don’t think she does. Or at least, she has never mentioned it to me."
Our eyes locked. There was no doubt in my mind that we both knew James had not stopped Janie to complain about his coffee. Neither of us spoke our thoughts out loud. I appreciated Lily’s discretion.
The fact that the Senator began to show up in our neighborhood more than once was another question. I reminded myself that he was trying to sell Sunrise. We were the only coffee house on the street until a few blocks over. Maybe he appreciated good coffee and good food.
"Right," I said under my breath.
Chapter Sixteen
When Thor and I arrived home, I searched the internet for information on Marianne Andrews. There was something about the connection between Michael and her son, John, that may add up to new information. Michael Simms couldn’t have been all bad. He generously left his business to John’s mother. By the same reasoning, she may have needed income and hastened him along in his death. In the middle of my search, my phone rang.
"Hi, Laila, it’s Daniel here."
"Daniel, do you have new information? Things are looking bad for Jacob."
"Hang on there," he said. "I don’t have anything new. I’m just checking in on you. A friend of mine was in Roasted Love and told me he saw you and James Simms in deep conversation. What was that all about?"
"It’s a long story. Do you know anything about John Andrews’ mother, Marianne?"
"I know who she is but nothing else. Why do you ask?"
"I want to talk to her and see if anything else comes up that gives me any clue about any of this."
"Don’t tell me you are going in as a reporter again." I could hear a soft chuckle. "You really aren’t so good at that, Laila."
"No, I’ve given up on using the reporter thing. I got caught by the Senator today at Roasted Love. I’m going to tell Marianne I was friends with Michael and ask her about the relationship with her son is all."
The chuckle came again. "Why don’t you just introduce yourself as Barista of the coffee house across the street from Sunrise? Sometime the truth gets you farther along. Besides, you won’t have to remember how to keep lies straight."
I knew he had a point. I was an amateur at this getting information drama. Maybe being truthful from the start would get more from her. The idea that she may have come into Roasted Love sometime and seen me occurred to me. I would have to think about it.
"At any rate, I don't know her where she lives," said Daniel. "Or how to get ahold of her. I can try to look it up, but I imagine that you'd be better and faster at that than me. Sorry."
After we hung up I searched a bit more and found some good leads including a phone number. I dialed the number and a woman answered on the second ring. I introduced myself as a friend of Michael Simms who had mentioned an old friend named John Andrews. So much for truth.
"Yes, I am Marianne Andrews. John was my son," she told me.