A Cup of Murder (Roasted Love Cozy 1)

Nope, I didn’t know that but I didn’t agree or disagree. She was someone who definitely knew the brothers better than I did. This explanation of personalities was a far cry from what I had observed in the two brothers. I had never seen Michael as a generous person. On the other hand, I didn’t get the impression James Simms was a controlling person much less an angry one until I encountered him in Roasted Love earlier. On the outside, he seemed to be the usual politician, when it came to getting people to vote for him.

"I appreciate your time," I said when it was time to leave. "Again, please accept my condolences."

On the way home I felt I could start drawing a few conclusions of my own. The question of the exact circumstances of John Andrews’ sudden death was one to investigate. It was interesting that someone who Marianne couldn’t name found him alone in the campaign office that fateful day.

I noticed a message on my phone when I got home. It was from Daniel. He wanted me to call him back which I did once Thor finished reveling in my attention.

"How about going to dinner tomorrow night when you get off work?"

I was both surprised and happy with the invitation, but I had a lot to think about. Jacob’s desperation came to mind.

"I’m busy with my detective work. May have to take a raincheck."

Was I crazy? I must be more involved than I thought to let this invitation fly out the window. Was that another soft chuckle I heard over the phone?

"Look, I will help you with this private eye work if you’ll have dinner with me."

I needed an ally. My lack of expertise in investigating murder was evident to me. I agreed. "I need help. So I’ll take you up on the invitation. I think Michael may have had something to do with John Andrews’ death."

"Are you sure about that?"

"No, just suspicious. I’ll tell you about my visit with Marianne Andrews when we meet."

"I think I can get John Andrews’ autopsy report if you want me to. I have a few friends in the police department."

I couldn’t believe my luck. "Yes, I want that. Bring it with you."

"Hang on there. I said I will try to get it. I’m not sure I can get it that fast but I’ll do my best. I want to hear everything when we go out tomorrow night, so don’t hold back."

I laughed. "Don’t worry. You’ll hear it all."

It was a relief to have someone to lean on. This was especially true when I thought about going out with Daniel Jenkins. I vowed to stick with the business at hand.

I looked forward to seeing John Andrews’ autopsy report. My reasoning was it could be somehow connected to Michael’s murder. The web was weaving tighter. I thought I probably should look up facts on how to investigate murders. I had no mentor along those lines to know what I was doing. Mainly, I hoped I wasn’t gathering useless information. That is where I needed Daniel. He appeared to have a level head.

Not sure I liked his joking accusations of me, but I knew he was the one to help me out. It was with those thoughts I realized he had already helped me. I did like it when he questioned me. It made me rethink things.

My preference was to drift off to sleep with thoughts of Daniel Jenkins dancing in my head. Instead, Jacob Weaver came to mind. He still sat behind bars. I couldn’t ignore the look in his eyes when he begged me to help him. Nor could I forget his slumped shoulders when he walked away.

The once massive and strong frame looked a few inches shorter. Despair isn’t a prett

y picture. This is especially true when it comes to seeing it in an innocent person pronounced guilty before trial.

Daniel and I needed to move faster on this investigation.

Chapter Seventeen

Daniel and I sat across from each other at the New Orleans Style Restaurant. He had asked me if I liked Cajun food before we chose this place. When I said yes, he introduced me to a huge selection of authentic Acadian dishes.

"How do they get it fresh from the Gulf to New York?" I asked.

"They have it flown up almost as soon as the seafood is fished from the waters. Try one of the gumbos."

He chose the smoked chicken and sausage gumbo. I veered from his suggestion about gumbo and had my eye on the southern shrimp and grit cake. There was Tasso ham on the side. After we ordered I looked at him with expectation.

"So where’s the autopsy report?"

He laughed and reached for the folder he brought in with him. "You don’t waste time, do you?"