Death by Coffee (6 page)

As it was, I dragged myself back into work and went about filling the few orders I had. I was just thankful Rita was long gone by the time I got back and that Vicki hadn’t bombarded me with questions the moment I’d walked through the door. I wouldn’t have known how to answer.

The only thing I was sure of was that Brendon Lawyer hadn’t forgotten his EpiPen before accidently consuming peanuts. Call it “intuition,” call it a “wild hunch,” but after talking to a few people he’d known best, I was pretty darn sure he had been murdered.

6

“Okay, what did I do this time?” I asked as I peeled the wet sock from my foot.

Misfit glared at me from the doorway to the laundry room. He swished his tail twice before turning and strutting away. Apparently, he was satisfied his little present had made his point and I wouldn’t do whatever it was I’d done to make him unhappy ever again.

My nose crinkled as I dropped the sock, as well as its match into the washer. I stepped around the puddle that had just about killed me to get some paper towels. One of these days, that cat was going to learn how to use the litter box properly.

Once the floor was wiped up, scrubbed clean, and air freshener was sprayed throughout the room, I headed to my bedroom to get ready. I considered taking another shower, since my foot smelled like cat pee. I decided that since it would be shoved in a shoe for the rest of the night, a quick wipe off would suffice. It wasn’t like I was planning on taking my shoes off at the writers’ meeting.

Misfit sat atop the bed, where I’d very nearly set the clothes I planned on wearing. Just before stepping into the shower, I’d changed my mind and hung them on a hanger and stuck them back into the closet. I had a feeling I would have had little wet cat prints all over the blouse and long orange hairs up and down the black slacks if I had left them out.

“Not this time, mister,” I said as the cat eyed me with a hint of disappointment in his eye. I opened the closet and retrieved my clothes, one by one, giving him no opportunity to ruin them before I had a chance to wear them.

I had no idea how to dress for a meeting like this. Did they dress up and sit around drinking tea while telling each other how brilliant they were? Was it more casual and fun? If it wasn’t for the fear of making Rita think I actually wanted to talk to her, I would have called and asked. As it was, I would just wing it and hope for the best.

I pulled on my blouse and slacks and checked myself over in the mirror. I looked nice, but not so nice that I’d feel overdressed if they were all wearing jeans and T-shirts. With a satisfied nod, I grabbed a pair of comfortable shoes and socks and started for the kitchen.

A soft thump was all the warning I had.

Misfit tore out of the bedroom like someone had dumped a gallon of water on him. He chose his path carefully ahead of time, I was sure. He managed to run between my legs, smacking each with his fluffy body, coating them with his orange fur. He very nearly succeeded in sending me flying face-first into the door.

I caught myself on my dresser, which, in turn, caused me to lose my grip on my shoes. They went flying across the room and slammed into the far wall, thankfully not putting a hole in it.

I thought I heard a little kitty snicker from the other room.

“One of these days,” I grumbled, retrieving my shoes and thinking black thoughts about buzz clippers and a flea bath. I carried my shoes out into the dining room, where Misfit, of course, was sitting on the table, tail swishing. I’m pretty sure his eyes strayed to the box with his treats.

“Not on your life,” I said as I grabbed a bag of treats, anyway. Even when he was trying to kill me, I couldn’t resist him.

As he began crunching the treats up on the table, I slipped on my socks and shoes, grabbed my purse, and then headed for the door.

“Be back in a little bit,” I called as I quickly opened the front door and slipped outside. Misfit, as usual, leapt from the table and tried to make a run for it, but I managed to get through the door and slam it closed before he could get there. I swear his entire purpose in life is to give me a hard time.

I walked to my car—a black Ford Focus I had gotten a deal on, thanks to my then-boyfriend, Robert. I’d considered giving him the car back when I broke up with him, but decided I loved the car too much to do that. Besides, then I would have to go buy a new one on my own. It wasn’t the car’s fault the guy who helped me get it was a lying ass. I was fumbling for my keys when my gaze fell onto the house next to mine.

“Damn it,” I grumbled, shoving the keys back into my purse. I’d wanted to get to the meeting early to scope it out, but there was something else I needed to do first. I wouldn’t feel right until I did.

I crossed the lawn and approached the front door of Jules Phan’s house. It was a little bigger than mine, but not by much. The entire front was lined with a well-cared-for flowerbed. The house itself was white, looked freshly cleaned, and smelled of flowers in bloom. It looked like Mr. Phan spent a lot of time tending to his home. Maybe if he had time, he could come over and take care of mine for me, because there was no way I’d ever manage to get my place looking—and smelling—like this.

I hesitated before pressing the doorbell. It was oddly colored, looking like a red-and-white-lined peppermint. I was afraid it might actually
be
a peppermint and I’d end up getting my fingers all sticky.

“That’s absurd,” I muttered as I pressed the bell. A faint chime rang through the house. Immediately high-pitched yapping started up and claws hit the door from the inside. A moment later the door opened to a smiling Jules Phan and a little bundle of fur, the latter of which immediately barreled into my legs.

“Maestro, no,” Jules said, clapping his hands. “I’m sorry. He gets so excited when we have guests.”

The little dog wagged his tail at me before turning and leaping into Jules’s waiting arms.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I have a cat.”

“Ah.” He smiled as if the thought of a cat repelled him.

I started to speak, but that’s when I noticed how different he looked. The last time I’d seen Jules Phan, he’d been wearing an outlandish outfit I’d taken for his usual attire. Tonight he was dressed in khaki shorts and a blue polo, with white Keds and no socks. He looked downright normal.

“You’ve changed.” I felt stupid the moment I said it.

He looked down at himself. “I have?”

“Your clothes.” I bit my lip. I really should stop talking before I insulted him.

“Oh.” He laughed, which caused Maestro to start licking his face. “I have.” He stepped aside. “Please come in. No sense standing outside where the rumor patrol will see us.”

I walked past him automatically. He closed the door before dropping Maestro onto the floor. The little dog sniffed at me and then rushed after his master, who was retreating toward the living room.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. “Please sit.”

“No thanks.” I took a seat on the couch. Jules perched on the armrest of a chair that looked so comfortable and soft, it very well might swallow whoever sat in it. The coffee table looked to be made of solid oak with an intricate etched design around the trim. In the corner a grandfather clock ticked the seconds by. It looked old.

“I was wearing my work uniform last night,” he said, and then laughed when he saw the look on my face. “I work at Phantastic Candies. Well, I own the place. I sell candy to the kids mostly.”

“Oh.”

“I like to dress up for it. Makes people smile.” He gave me a smile of his own. His teeth were shockingly white for someone who spent his day surrounded by sweets. I couldn’t help but return it.

“Look,” I said. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

“Oh no.” He waved the notion off. “I don’t mind at all. It can get boring sitting here alone.”

“Still . . . I just wanted to come over and tell you I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to be short with you. I’d been stressed and . . . well . . .”

Jules shook his head the entire time I spoke. “Don’t apologize,” he said when I was done. “You’d looked harried, and after I saw the news last night . . .” He shuddered. “Terrible business. I felt awful for bothering you after such horribleness.”

“Well, I’m sorry, anyway. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

Jules gave me a warm smile. “Then I accept the apology, though I still insist it isn’t necessary. Here.” He stood. “Let me get you something to drink.” He was up and out of the room before I could protest.

Maestro gave me a happy-doggy look, wagged his tail enthusiastically, and then darted out of the room, presumably after his master.

I ran my hand over the couch, marveling at how soft and fur-free it felt. I mean, if Misfit had been here, the chocolate brown couch would be a near-solid orange and would have been torn into tiny little pieces by now. Either Jules Phan spent all day cleaning, or Maestro was far more behaved than my cat.

“Here we are,” Jules said, returning. Maestro was right behind him.

I took the bottle of water he offered me. It was ice cold and looked refreshing. I drank a little to be polite, but quickly realized how thirsty I really was. I sucked down nearly half the bottle before I could bring myself to stop.

Jules sat there and smiled at me as if he’d known all along.

“What kind of dog is he?” I asked, capping the water.

“Maltese.” Jules ruffled Maestro’s white fur. “He’s only two.”

“Ah.” I looked at my bottle. I really had no idea where to go after that.

Thankfully, Jules liked to talk. “Have you met Mrs. Winthrow yet?” he asked.

“Eleanor Winthrow?” I asked to be sure. I didn’t know how many Winthrows there might be in Pine Hills. Jules nodded. “She came in for a cup of coffee the other day. I’m not sure she’ll be back.”

He chuckled. “It’s no wonder.” He nodded toward the wall in the direction of my house. “She lives on the other side of you. She isn’t the most pleasant of people, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed.” He leaned forward. “Make sure you keep your blinds closed. She has a tendency to use binoculars from her armchair by the window.”

“I’ll remember that,” I said, trying to remember if I’d left the curtains open in my bedroom while getting changed.

Jules sighed and shook his head. “It is terrible about Mr. Lawyer, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “He came over for a cup of coffee right before he died.”

Jules’s hand covered his mouth. “Oh, my,” he said. “That has to be just awful to know you’d just talked to him before he died.”

“Yeah.” I gave a strained laugh. “I keep thinking I might have had something to do with it. I mean, he was right there, barking orders at me, mere minutes before he kicked the bucket.”

“He wasn’t a very happy man,” Jules said with a sad shake of his head.

I perked up at that. “Do you mean because of his wife? I heard they were getting a divorce.”

Jules raised his eyebrows at me. “Really? I knew things were bad between them, but a divorce?” He shook his head again. “I guess Lance was right about them, after all.”

“Lance?”

He motioned toward a picture on the wall just behind my head. I craned my neck around to look. The photo showed a blond man, with a mile-wide grin, standing behind Jules, arms wrapped around him. They looked happy together, which was more than I could say about any of my relationships. I had to admit, I was a little jealous.

“He would be here to welcome you, but he’s off on business this week.”

“I’m sure I’ll love him,” I said, turning back.

Jules smiled. “He’s far more of a gossip than I am. Lance tends to listen to every rumor around town and is somehow able to sift through the lies and slander to find the truth buried beneath. He swore to me the Lawyers were going to get a divorce, but I didn’t believe it. I’d seen them together only last week. While they weren’t exactly the happiest of people, I could still see that spark between them. Do you know what I mean?”

I nodded. I remembered when I’d had that spark with Robert. It didn’t take much more than a few late nights and one wrong word for me to realize his spark liked to spread to every available outlet, but it
had
been there.

I stood, feeling a bit down thinking about the past. “I’ve probably taken up too much of your time,” I said. “In fact, I have somewhere to be soon.”

“It’s no bother,” Jules said, rising. “It’s just me and Maestro for the rest of the week. Feel free to stop by anytime.”

I smiled at him. “I will.” And I meant it. Jules Phan put me at ease. The guy was probably the nicest person I’d met in town, thus far, and didn’t annoy me like Rita did. “But I do have to go.”

He walked me to the front door, Maestro at his heel. He scooped up the little dog before opening the door for me.

“I hope things calm down enough so you can see how nice a town Pine Hills really is. We don’t have excitement like this all of the time. I promise.”

I gave Maestro a quick pat on the head. “I’m sure they will. Thanks for the water.”

“Anytime.”

I turned and walked to the car, thoughtful. I wasn’t sure what I thought about what Jules had said about the Lawyers. Could they have still been in love—despite the fact Brendon had cheated on his wife? Then again, was Heidi’s mom right about that? Could she have made an assumption based on a few late nights at work? Just because one woman thought the man was cheating didn’t mean he really was.

What I needed was proof.

I got into my car and started the engine. Just as I was about to pull out of my driveway, I happened to glance toward Eleanor Winthrow’s place. Two round circles poked out between the curtains. She didn’t even bother to hide them when she saw me looking. In fact, I think she leaned in closer.

I restrained myself from flipping the bird and instead gave her a short little wave, smiling as if I was thrilled at the attention, and then put the car into gear. I couldn’t worry about Eleanor’s spying now. I had a meeting to attend.