Ligature & Latte Read online

  Then she opened up a newspaper from the previous month. There I was, on the front page, a horrible photo of me, and a headline and article that were full of lies.

  It caught me off guard. I, honestly, thought those papers had all been thrown away.

  “Mable,” I said, finding my voice. “I’ve already been proven innocent of David Gardner’s murder. It wasn’t me at all.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second.” She spat on the sidewalk next to her foot. “Once a killer always a killer.” She turned her attention back to James. “And if you help her get a place down here with us honest, do-gooders, then heaven help you for what your fate may be.”

  James shook his head and blinked his eyes a few times, not really sure what to say to Mable.

  “Mable,” he finally replied. “You have a good day. I’m going to take Connie, who didn’t kill anyone, by the way, to go look at another place.”

  He touched my arm and guided me gently. It was reassuring to have him there. I didn’t know how I would have handled the exchange if it had just been me.

  This is what I had been afraid of once those articles started coming out. I knew that most people would be able to understand that I hadn’t done anything wrong. But I also knew that there would be others.

  Unfortunately, Mable was one of those others. She had a reputation for being a rather loud gossip. Her circle was small, but they were vicious. She’d made more than a few stinks in her years, and there was one thing that I’d grown to know about Mable.

  If she wanted her way, she was going to get it.

  Trying to forget the public derision at the tongue of Mable Wilson, James and I continued on to the next place on the list.

  It was a tall brick building, with a nice wide storefront, and those big showy windows on both sides of the door.

  I noticed right away that if I were to buy this building, then Connie’s Cafe would be feet away from Coffee Creek Reads & Teas. I though that this might be a very good thing. For one, tea wouldn’t be on my menu. And for another, what goes better with a great book than coffee?

  Nothing.

  Taking a deep breath, I started to calm myself down and look around the area, taking in all of the possibilities and potential road blocks.

  The first real drawback was that I was only two doors down from that awful Mable Wilson and her antique shop. I wasn’t sure that there was a place I could find that would be far enough away from her.

  The second drawback I noticed was that with this building there was no place for outside seating. The building went right up to the edge of the sidewalk, which left no room for tables and chairs as it would be in the way of people passing by, making an unpleasant experience for everyone.

  “I see you looking around for outside seating capabilities,” James interrupted my thoughts.

  I smiled.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “There’s a surprise on the back of this building that will take care of all of your outdoor seating needs.” He flashed me a grin that just about melted me.

  “Ooooh”, I squealed, rubbing the palms of my hands together.

  Before we went in to inspect further, Rebecca Fairmack, the owner of Coffee Creek Reads & Teas came out to join us.

  She was a spunky little pocket of energy. She had bright blond hair, bright pink glasses and a very chic little pastel blue dress. She was wearing orange and yellow flip flops and drinking tea out of a mug that read: I am a Reading & Tea Kinda Girl. The mug had a picture of an open book and a cup of tea on the front of it.

  “Hey there, Connie!” She said. Her voice was as sunny and bright as her outfit and hair. “Hi, James!”

  “Hey there, Rebecca,” James said. “How are things in the book and tea business going?”

  She nodded, “Can’t complain. People love to read and drink tea.”

  “That they do,” James agreed. “So Connie here is going to be looking at this building here next to yours.”

  “Welcome to the neighborhood,” Rebecca giggled.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Having a neighbor like Rebecca was a major positive to this second building. She was kind and upbeat and I was already starting to think about ways that we could work together to make a really great experience for the readers and coffee drinkers of Coffee Creek.

  A young couple turned into Reads & Teas.

  “I’ve got to go, but we’ll catch up later.” She went back inside her shop. I was glad she’d come out to greet us. Her visit gave me a completely rejuvenated feeling on the Main Street vibe. I could work with her, no problem.

  “Shall we,” James said, bringing my focus back to the place in front of us.

  “Yes,” I grinned. “We shall.”

  The place was absolutely perfect. The inside seating area was spacious and open, with bright hardwood floors, and a nice shade of orange on the walls. This side of the street got the morning sun which made this space bright and vibrant.

  The existing counters were exactly what I’d dreamt about for years. They were long and extensive, allowing for ample room for a register area, serving area, and coffee preparation area. The back counter had a great deal of space for all of the equipment, plus there was a built in sink for quick and easy cleaning for blenders and coffee pots.

  There was already a glass display case for pastries and other baked goods.

  “The seller said all of the equipment in here is included in the asking price,” James informed me.

  “Very nice,” I nodded. “I’m liking all of this so far. I know this place is the most expensive of the three, but if I don’t have to spend a ton of money on extra equipment, it might be worth shelling out a little more.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” James flashed me that smile again, and I felt goosebumps starting on my arms. “Let’s go see the kitchen.”

  It was a much larger kitchen than the previous place. It had full working ovens and a nice prep table in the middle, with plenty of room to move around, even if several people were back there working.

  “I love this place!” I was like a child on Christmas morning, rushing downstairs and finding that Santa had brought exactly what I’d asked for. “James, I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t even want to look at the third place.”

  He grinned. “I haven’t even shown you the best part of this one yet.”

  I followed him out of the kitchen and back into the main area. Along the back wall there was a door that led up three steps and out onto a massive deck. There had to have been room for at least twenty tables out here. It had the most beautiful view of Coffee Creek.

  The sun was glistening off the water as the birds were flying high in the sky and the fish were jumping. I felt the warmth of the sun on my back, filling me with the happy feelings I knew my customers would someday feel when they sat out here.

  “I’ll take it!”

  3

  The Coffee Creek Surf & Turf was the most upscale restaurant within fifty miles of town.

  On the night of the closing, my mother and Reba had insisted on taking me out for seafood and wine to celebrate the first step on the next journey of my life.

  I thought that may have been a little bit over the top, but who am I to turn down buttery lobster and chardonnay?

  “I am so proud of you!” My mother’s voice was almost embarrassingly loud. People from a few tables away were looking over at us and starting to stare.

  “Thank you,” I mumbled, turning pink. “It’s really not that big a deal.”

  “Not that big a deal?” Reba joined in. “Connie, do you know what this means? You are now self employed. You are now a business owner, free to chart your own course through this land of the free and home of the brave!”

  I nodded. “I guess when you look at it like that…”

  “So, are you going to make me interview for a position? Or just hire me outright because you know me?”

  “Ha, ha,” I chortled through a sip of full bodied, French oak aged chard
onnay, that was every bit as buttery as the lobster that I was working on. “I think you’ve got the job if you want it.”

  She extended her hand across the table. When I shook it, she said, “I won’t let ya down, boss!”

  Boss.

  Boy, did that feel weird. I had never been anyone’s boss before. Most days I had trouble telling myself what I was supposed to do. And now, I was going to be responsible for delegating tasks and making sure that they were done to my specifications.

  It all seemed so daunting, but having Reba onboard would certainly be a helpful step in the right direction. I was sure she would coach me up if I needed it.

  “So, how about after dinner, you take us to the new place?” My mother suggested. “Now that you officially have the keys, I can’t think of a better way to end the evening.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Reba nodded, urging me right alongside my mother. “Let’s go check it out. You can tell me where to stand.” She laughed.

  I nodded my agreement with the plan. “Let me just call James first and see if he would be willing to come over and give you two the fifty cent tour.”

  “The fifty cent tour,” Reba giggled and elbowed my mother. “Somehow, I don’t think she’s calling James for us, Roberta.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” my mother joined in, a sly grin smeared across her face. “I haven’t seen her call a boy this much since high school.”

  “Would you two knock it off. He’s my realtor. There was a lot of communication that needed to happen to make the deal happen.” I blushed as I said this, knowing that it was only half the story.

  “Mmmhmmm,” my mother said, rolling her eyes.

  “Save it, sister,” Reba joked. “We’re on to you.”

  “Whatever,” I sighed. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go make a phone call.”

  I stood up from the table and walked outside.

  Before I pulled the phone out of my pocket to call James, Mable Wilson walked up with a small party of older women. Four of them in total, all resembling her in one form or another, from their white hair to their ambling gate. But the thing that struck me most was their vicious stares.

  I heard Mable say, “That’s her,” as they walked by.

  “The murderer?” One of the women asked, without any effort whatsoever to keep her voice down.

  “In the flesh,” Mable answered so I would hear every word as clear as could be. “Such a shame what a sham our local law enforcement is. Can’t even close an open and shut case.”

  The five women moved into the restaurant as the hot August heat slapped my already warm face.

  Don’t worry about them, I told myself. Most people know what really happened.

  I took a deep breath to gather myself and then dialed James on my phone.

  It rang several times without an answer.

  That’s odd. He always picked up.

  I hung up and tried again.

  Still no answer.

  Something was off.

  I went back into the Surf & Turf and rejoined my mother and Reba, very careful not to make eye contact with Mable’s miserable melee of malcontents.

  “Is everything alright?” My mother asked when she saw the concern on my face.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Reba joked, somewhat oblivious.

  “He didn’t answer his phone,” I answered, then I tipped my head in Mable’s direction. “Plus, she and her crony’s still think I murdered David Gardner.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about her,” my mother guffawed, slapping the air. “She’s just a miserable old busy body. There’s not enough drama in our quiet little town, so she and that nasty little group of Bettys are always trying to make something up to give themselves something to talk about.”

  “Mother?” I sat back, a little aghast. I’d known my mother was spunky, but had never heard her bring out a venomous tongue like that before. “I don’t know what to say, right now? I’ve never heard you talk about another human being like that before?”

  “First time for everything, I suppose.” She smiled. “I’ll be saying a few extra prayers of forgiveness for that, I’m sure.”

  “Alright,” Reba said, growing tired of the prayer talk. “Let’s go see this place. I’m sure you can show it to us whether James is there or not.”

  Putting the key into the doorway, and turning it for the first time as the official owner of the building felt bitter sweet.

  I was so excited to be able to start this part of my life, and share this dream with my mother. But a part of me — a big part, at that — was wishing that my father could be there to see what I was doing.

  As if she could read my mind, my mother put her hands on the back of my shoulders and whispered in my ear, “Your father is very proud of you, honey. I just know he’s watching you from Heaven.”

  It was all I could to hold back the tears, as Reba, who was oblivious to all of the emotions my mother and I were sharing, chimed in and said, “Alright, there, Connie, pop that puppy open and let us in already!”

  My mother and I laughed. I quickly wiped my eyes with my palms and pushed the door open.

  It was stuffy and hot inside, but that didn’t stop us from storming in and looking around, dreaming about what the shop would become over the next few months.

  “I want to have big chalkboards for the menus.” I pointed to a spot on the walls above the back counter. “They’ll be easy to hang, and we can change them up as menu items change. Plus, I think they have a lot of charm.”

  Reba had walked behind the counter and was pretending to write names on imaginary cups. She was putting on a show, smiling and telling imaginary customers to have a great day.

  “You have a great day,” she pointed, playfully. “And be sure to come back to Connie’s Cafe!”

  I smiled. “That sounds pretty good. You’re off to a good start here. I don’t want to get your hopes up, but you could very well be the first ever Connie’s Cafe Employee of the Month.”

  “Really?” She giggled, bringing her hands up to her mouth in feigned surprise. “I’d just like to thank all of the other baristas for being lazy and not nearly as friendly as me.”

  “You two girls are too much,” my mother laughed, looking around with a smile I hadn’t seen since my father passed. “This place is absolutely perfect.”

  “I know,” I said. “Wait until you see the deck in the back. Actually, let’s go check that out now. We’re probably just in time to see the sunset over the creek.”

  “Ooh, ooh, me first!” Reba bolted back around the counter and out the back door.

  My mother put her arms around my shoulders as we were able to finally share a moment together.

  “I’m so proud of you—”

  Our moment was broken suddenly when we heard Reba scream.

  4

  I ran out to the deck, my mother following. The sun hit my eyes as I emerged from the doorway. It would have been a perfect sunset, and it would have topped off a perfect evening.

  These thoughts sped through my mind quickly as my eyes adjusted to the outside light, and my ears did what they could to hold Reba’s hysterics at bay while I figured out what she was so upset about.

  As sun spots started to dissipate from my vision, I turned to see Reba staring and pointing toward the far corner of the deck.

  There was a man, sitting in a chair. His hands and feet were bound and he had a vibrant green silk tie around his neck. His dapper dress and perfectly shiny head were snapping into focus.

  Dizziness overtook me and I dropped to the floor. A numbness that I knew all too well emerged as I slowly and methodically called 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1, state your emergency,” the woman on the other end of the line said robotically.

  “Hello,” I said, my voice as calm as possible. “I need an ambulance and the police please.”

  “What is your emergency?”

  “There’s been a murder.”

  James Popper was dead.

&nb
sp; Strangled with his own tie.

  And positioned perfectly on the deck of the property I’d just purchased with his help.

  “Hey, Connie,” Officer Billings said when he arrived on the scene. He had come in after the paramedics. “How are you holding up?”

  “Not great,” I said, trying not to let my tears show.

  Reba and my mother were on either side of me. We huddled together in the corner of the main area of the shop. It was dark and getting darker as the power to the building hadn’t been turned on yet.

  Before Billings could say anything else, one of the paramedics came over to us and informed him that the scene was now ready for the police.

  “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said before he climbed up the steps to the deck.

  My mind wandered as I thought about everything that was happening. Who would do such a thing? And why did they choose James Popper of all people? He’d been so kind to me, and helped me so much. Why had they put his body here at the shop? Had the murder occurred here? Was I going to be a suspect again? Was someone trying to send me a message?

  It was almost too much to bear.

  My mother pulled me close and squeezed me in a comforting way to let me know she was there. Reba’s eyes were glazed over as she stared blankly off into space.

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Officer Billings had left us to go work through the investigation, but the sun had gone down and it was dark when he came back to us.

  “Connie,” he said, holding a sheet of paper out toward me. “We just found this in James Popper’s pocket. Do you have any idea what it could mean?”

  I unfolded the note and read: “This is what happens when you help a murderer. She’ll feel the wrath of God soon enough.”

  It was hard to breath or swallow in that moment, everything started to shut down within me, and I felt dizzy before my world went black.