A Frothy Fiasco: A Cozy Mystery (Sweet Home Mystery Series Book 3)

Frothy Fiasco

by

Constance Barker

Copyright 2015 Constance Barker

All rights reserved.

Similarities to real people, places or events are purely coincidental.

Chapter One

The shiny new espresso machine snorted a steady blast of steam from its single nostril like an enraged bull getting ready to charge. The sound, though, was more like a goose honking or an 18-wheeler slamming on its air brakes.

“Oh, Lawdy,” moaned Aunt Essie as she delicately dabbed her lace handkerchief at her sweaty brow and cheek, “make that blasted contraption stop! It’s 90 degrees in the shade, and that useless thing is filling the place with boiling hot steam. We’re going to have to change the sign from
Coffee Cabana
to
Coffee Sauna
.”

“Workin’ on it,” I hollered from behind the counter. I couldn’t fault the old girl this time.
Phew!
I was nearly melting in the Florida heat and fed up with this new-fangled gadget myself. But, summer was here and the influx of visiting kids and grandkids to the big retirement village down the street already generated a big demand for the fancy coffee drinks.

Essie’s sister, Hildie (two years younger at age 60), walked over to her with an extended hand and led Essie to a chair at a two-top under the ceiling fan with three large basket-weave blades. Then she opened her accordion fan as well to cool off her sister and herself. “Lily, could you bring us the coldest bottle of water we’ve got, please? I put a couple in the freezer an hour ago.”

“Yes, ma’am!” I reached into the freezer and grabbed a bottle, which was just starting to ice up, then I ran my cold damp hand down my face. “Here you go!”

Essie and Hildie were my aunts and business partners in the coffee shop. I took care of most of the day-to-day operations, and they delivered the baked goods – and the senior gentlemen from the retirement village. I hate to admit it, since my 33
rd
birthday is still several months away, but they’re kind of my best friends too…

“Your espresso cups are clean!”

…except for Jules. She emerged from the back room with a small tray of tiny cups and some stainless steel parts, which she set on top of the machine. The steam was coming more slowly now, and the whistling noise was less piercing.

Suddenly the front door flew open. With 16-year-old Trevor Barton leading the way and the three Jenkins kids in hot pursuit, the foursome ran through the seating area, laughing all the way. They weaved around the tables, past the counter, into the back room, and out the back door into the alley.

I looked at Jules and then at the stunned eyes of Essie and Hildie.

“And so it begins. The summer infestation of street urchins is upon us.”

It was the solemn voice of Harvey Davis, the old widower with a shark fin on top of his aging golf cart. His bald head glistened with sweat as he sat reading his newspaper, unnoticed until now in the corner. There was still one bite of his chocolate chip muffin left on his plate, which he somehow had the willpower to nibble at slowly for a couple hours every day.

“Well, I’ll not have those shenanigans in my coffee shop,” Essie said with a stubborn determination that few people would dare challenge. “That Barton boy must have his mother’s criminal genes. I’m going to call his father right now and put an end to this.”

“Essie…” I said meekly with a big smile, “…do you really think that’s necessary? Mike is finally starting to hold his head up and look people in the eye again since he and his son came back to town, and this could send him into another tailspin. Just let me talk to Trevor.”

Mike left Sweet Home in the middle of the school year when his wife, Meghan, was convicted of murdering Fannie Diddlemeier. She’s serving hard time at the Dade Correctional Institution now. Mike divorced her and left the lady at the home improvement store in Sabina behind too when they moved to Atlanta. Trevor appealed to him to move back home so he could be with all of his friends, but it was a hard transition for the 40-something landscaper.

“Oh, Mike knows that nobody harbors ill will against him because of what his wife did to that nasty Diddlemeier woman. Most of the townsfolk are glad to be rid of her and her lying gossip rag of a newspaper, well except for Mildred, but her light bulb is dim. But you’re right.” Then she held one finger up and shook it at me. “If he does it again, though, heads will roll.”

“Lily…” Jules gathered her silky black hair with one hand on top of her head and wiped her face and neck with a clean white bar towel. “Would you mind running to my place and giving my flowers in the front and side a little drink? I have to run. It’s my turn to pull a Saturday afternoon shift at the dental clinic desk, and I’m afraid this heat wave is going to kill everything if they don’t get a lot of water. A couple cans of water should do it. The watering can is in the mudroom by the back door.”

“Key still under the mat?”

“It’s inside the hanging plant, right in the front, but I usually forget to lock it.” Jules shook some air under her damp shirt. “Thank goodness I have a fresh smock at work to throw on.” She walked around through the doorway into the back room and came back out with a wide-eyed expression of horror on her face.

The steam and noise stopped completely as the repairman slid out from under the counter on his back and sat up. “That should do it!” He followed my eyes over to Jules and stood up.

“Jules?” I was concerned as she stood there in silence. “What is it?”

“My ring. I took it off to wash the cups and put it by the sink. It’s not there. It’s gone.”

Jules had the diamonds from her wedding ring remounted into a beautiful setting with her emerald birthstone when she got divorced a couple years ago, and that ring was her pride and joy. It was obvious that she was sick about it, and her knees were beginning to fail her. Tony, the repairman, grabbed her with one arm around the waist before she fell.

“Maybe it’s in the sink,” I said as my aunts, Tony and I rushed to the scene of the missing ring.

Tony felt so bad for Jules, he looked white as a sheet. He pulled the trap off the sink’s drain and carefully emptied it onto an old newspaper. “Nothing in here,” he said with a forlorn look and reassembled the drain.

I scoured the floor as Essie and Hildie looked high and low on the countertops, the big refrigerator, and the shelves.

“It’s that Trevor Barton, I tell you,” Essie declared. “He’s got no-good in his blood, just like his mother. And with all the extra kids in town for the summer, he’s showing them that he’s the king of Sweet Home, trying to impress them with his foul deeds.”

“Settle down girls.” It was Harvey, trying to use his even keel to guide the rest of us back to reason. “Those kids were in and out of there pretty fast to pull off a heist like this.”

“It doesn’t take long to grab and ring a put it in your pocket,” Essie offered as a rebuttal.

“Is it possible you left it at home, Juliana?” Harvey asked.

Jules shrugged and shook her head a little. “I was sure I put it there. I don’t take it off when I shower in the morning. Just when I wash dishes so I don’t scratch the glasses. But I didn’t wash anything yet today. I could have forgotten it at home. Maybe. I guess. I gotta get to work.”

“Well,” said Hildie, “We’ll keep looking, but let’s not worry about it for now or expect the worst. Maybe you’ll find it at home.”

Jules smiled weakly, nodded and went out the front door.

With Jules gone, the repairman’s wandering eye turned to me. Tony Georgetti was the salesman, installer, troubleshooter, and all-around hand-holder and client rep for the Orlando company’s specialty restaurant equipment. They specialized in coffee machines, ice makers, Panini grills, crepe cookers, and a lot of other “New Age” devices for, shall we say, the vegan-yoga generation. “Hippy-dippy crapola” is what Essie called it.

“Sooo…Lily,” the tall drink of water said as he leaned on his elbow in the doorway, blocking me in the back room, “Uhh…do you ever have any time off from this place?”

“Oh, yes,” Hildie chimed in. “We make sure she gets Thursday and Saturday nights off for her date nights with Eli Davis, the police detective here in town.”

“Yep, that’s my son,” Harvey added. “He sure has taken a shine to the lovely Lily.”

“They make such a perfect couple…” Essie began with her two cents worth.

“Ahem! Are you guys done?” I was trying not to blush, either in embarrassment or anger, but I think I did redden up a little.

“Well, it’s all true,” said Essie. “You two have been inseparable ever since Lucille exterminated that slimy Mr. Jeffries.”

“She did the deed with my golf cart out there,” Harvey said motioning toward the shark fin outside the window. “Ran him over, back and forth, maybe half a dozen times. The old cart doesn’t run like she used to anymore.”

Tony laughed out loud and then noticed Harvey was serious about the incident. “Well, then I’ll back off. I don‘t want be attacked by a golf cart.”

“That Jules is a nice girl, though. She’s single…again.”             

“Hildie!”

“Look,” Tony said with a more businessy look in his sparkling brown eyes, “I’ll be back tomorrow, as promised, to train everyone on the espresso machine. Hopefully it won’t break again before then.” Don’t get your hopes up Tony.

“We’ll all be here. Jules too,” I told him.

“And you should think about that new ice machine I showed you. It’s fast, and it makes small, clear cubes that will grind up nicely in a regular blender, so you won’t have to waste $400 on one of our fancy frappe blenders.”

“We’ll just put our big ice cubes in a bag and hit ’em with a hammer a few times before they go into the blender, Mr. Spaghetti. We’ve got everything we need.” That was Essie, of course. She knew his name was Georgetti.

“Okay, then.” Tony surrendered and headed towards the door. “I’ll be bouncing between here and Sabina all week, so don’t be afraid to call if you need anything. I’ve got a trunk full of coffee too if you ever run low. I know you got your own guy for that, but just in case. Ciao!”

Harvey made his exit too with a friendly smile and wave, leaving the place to the three of us. I pulled up a chair and joined them under the fan.

“That Tony sure is a nice boy,” Hildie said with a faraway smile. “All those years you spent alone, Lily, and now there are two handsome men who can’t take their eyes off you.”

I put my hand to my face to cover my eye roll.

“I’ll bet that man will make some beautiful babies,” Essie added. Ugh!

“Geez, girls,” I said shaking my head, “It sounds like you two both have the hots for this guy. Maybe you should go out with him. He’s like 42 and flirts with every girl he sees. He’s like a sailor…probably has a gal in every port all over Florida.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Essie insisted. “He’s a nice honest young man. He even steered you away from his expensive blenders that he’d make a lot of money on.”

“Yeah, so he could steer us toward a thousand-dollar ice machine. But, okay. I think he’s a nice guy too. Tall, dark, handsome, muscles.”

Essie and Hildie nodded at each other. Okay, watching my aunts go gooey over a guy made me queasy. I got to get off this crazy train.

“But, Hildie, did you have to say that ‘single again’ thing about Jules?”

“Well.” She was a little bit defensive it seemed to me. “I figured he’d feel like he had something in common with her and maybe ask her out.”

“Okay,…I’ll bite. What do they have in common?”

“Why, being single again, of course. Jules is divorced, and Tony is too. At least he has a white ring of flesh on his ring finger, like a wedding ring used to be there blocking out the sun.” Well, I was shocked. Hildie normally had foggy brain, bless her heart. Seems she had more on the ball when the temp rose.

Essie looked at her sister. “So, maybe he’s still married and just takes off his ring so he can flirt with the girls.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Hildie leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. “I can tell that finger’s been without a ring for quite a while now. Besides, I’m a good judge of character. Tony has a good soul.”