Caffeine & Killers (Roasted Love Cozy 3)

Chapter Seven

As I drove myself home, I tried to make sense of what I knew about John's death. Everyone, even the chief of police, seemed convinced that he was just another addict who'd died from an overdose of heroin. They were all, like, why are you surprised, Laila? That's what happens to most of them. We're not surprised one bit.

I had to admit that I didn't know much about how to recognize a heroin addict. But even so, I couldn't let go of the idea that John was not a drug addict and had not died of an overdose – at least, not an accidental overdose. Every time I saw John, he'd walked steady and his eyes were clear and his speech always made sense.

It had to be something else. It just had to be.

As I curled up on the sofa in my house drinking some very good hot chocolate with a hint of vanilla extract, Ronald Larch came to mind.

Larch sat in Roasted Love several times a week, usually hunched down over papers while drinking coffee. I'd heard that he was Calvin Carpenter’s campaign manager and liked to sit in coffee shops to do his work.

Well, with their attitude toward the homeless, those two were made for each other. Since John had been found dead, the campaign manager became more vocal with his opinions to anyone who would listen.

"But I'll bet he won't run down the homeless in our shop again, Thor," I said, talking to the dog at my feet. "Not after Walter called him out." I stirred the hot chocolate and thought about what I should do next. But for a moment, all I could see was John's kind face, with his mop of hair and large brown eye. I could only hope that he hadn't been frightened or in pain when he had died.

I closed my eyes.

Then I forced myself to keep thinking, and focused on my little adventure in the Skid Row part of West River. I shivered when I remembered the anger on the face of the man I had talked to – and he hadn't been angry at me, but at John.

That puzzled me. Maybe everybody else was right, and there were two sides to the homeless man known as John. Maybe I really had only seen his good side.

I picked up my phone and pulled up Daniel’s number. It rang a couple of times and then he answered.

" – lo?"

I laughed. "You in the middle of eating something?"

"Oh, hi, Laila. Sorry! I had just taken a bite of coleslaw when you called."

"Want me to call back?"

"Oh, no, no. I'm done with dinner."

"Well, then, how about coming over here for dessert? I've got a few raspberry scones sitting on my counter." Jacob generously allowed us to take leftovers home from Roasted Love, and I knew that he took day-old goodies to the pantry at a local church a few times a week.

"That sounds like a good finish to coleslaw and chili," said Daniel. "See you in a minute."

Thor got up and trotted to the door even before the bell rang, and he was very happy when I opened the door to find Daniel and Benji there. In a moment the dogs were playing together in the yard while Daniel and I got settled in my living room with hot chocolate and raspberry scones.

I jumped right into talking about John’s murder investigation. Daniel listened patiently, and then set his cup down when I told him about Ronald Larch’s comments in the coffee house – about how he'd said that John being dead was "one less homeless bum around our town."

"Yeah. I think Larch is Calvin Carpenter’s campaign manager," said Daniel. I nodded. "That would explain his outlook on the homeless issue. Carpenter isn’t timid about expressing his views to the world, and his manager would naturally be on his side."

"I agree on that part,

" I said. "But what I'm wondering now is how Ronald Larch knew John – at least, outside of Roasted Love. If he did know him."

"Well, West River isn’t all that big. They could have crossed paths at any time. But I don't think it was anything personal. Larch wants any and all homeless types cleared out of town."

"Yeah. And I guess there won't be any more news about what exactly happened to John until the autopsy report comes out."

"That's right. And the toxicology. But Laila, there's really no doubt that he died of an overdose."

I set down my hot chocolate. "No. He didn't. I’m sure of it. Don't ask me how I know that. I just do."

Daniel sighed. "Laila, you need to let it go. Think about it: How well did you really know John?"

I sat up and looked straight at him. "Well, I saw him most every day – "