A Frothy Fiasco: A Cozy Mystery (Sweet Home Mystery Series Book 3) (6 page)

“Wow. Things are moving quickly. You didn’t waste any time. What about the clinic?”

“Well, I gave them my two-week notice, but Sandy said they have someone who’s looking for the extra hours, so I can just be on stand-by for two weeks. So…how are things going here at the Cabana?” She knew that business had been brisk lately, but she still had a look of concern in her eyes.

“Fan-
tastic!
The flood of visitors has really kept us hopping, the espresso machine—when it’s working—has brought in the younger adults, and your blenders have been a big hit. Cold drinks are almost half of our business lately.”

“That is really great, Lily. I’m…”

“But wait. I haven’t told you the best part yet. You know Moira and Carmen’s Campfire booth that I was hoping we would break even on?”

Jules nodded. “Yeah. What about it?”

“Well, Tuesday was the first day—the morning after our date with Schooner.”

Jules rolled her eyes.

“They sold 200 cups in two hours! That’s $200 for the Campfire Girls, and $400 for the Coffee Cabana, mostly profit.”

“Wow, Lily. That’s amazing! Are they able to keep up that pace, or was it just the first-day novelty?”

“Keep it up?! The next day we were ready for the rush with six full air pots, and they sold over 300 cups. That’s like three cups every minute. And we’re getting a lot of new people in here after work, because our name and address is on the sign over there and on all of our cups. Hank nearly dropped his teeth when I ordered 14 cases of coffee this week. I literally bounce out of bed at 5 a.m. now. I can’t wait to get here. But then I’m pooped by 9 o’clock in the morning.”

“Holy macaroni, Lily! That’s unbelievable. I might have to take back that offer for free advertising in my paper.”

“No problem. But we’ll both have to keep some time open for our detective work. There are some developments in the theft cases since we last met.”

“You’ll have to bring me up to date over lunch. Did Eli run that motorcycle license plate?”

“Yeah. Some nurse in Orlando. Cynthia something. She’s clean, though. No record. I think it was the girl we crossed paths with at the door. But my posse has seen her around town a few times, sometimes with the guy with the ponytail. Eli thinks there might be something to it.”

Jules did a double take. “Posse? You have a posse? What’s next…an entourage?”

“No Miss Smarty. Trevor came up with the name. He and some of the kids he hangs with are keeping tabs on the adults around town and watching for any suspicious activity.”

Jules shook her head. “Alright then. So this guy and girl. I bet that’s the same pair Toe saw at the gas station.”

“And Eli said there were some people who saw a guy with a ponytail around the Tastee Freeze when June Thatcher’s money was snatched. There were reports of a motorcycle too. But some people also saw Toe’s truck in the vicinity.”

“Hmm.” Jules didn’t like hearing that. “It’s not looking good for the old boy.”

“I know. Well, if you just take a look at Essie’s board, you’ll be pretty much caught up. There’ve been three or four more thefts, and Eli says that there have been some in Sabina too. Probably more, like Schooner’s mp3, that don’t get reported. It’s still all pretty much pocket-sized items, so the kids are still under suspicion too.”

The street was slowly filling up with bikes and in-line skaters as Jules perused the bulletin board. “It looks like you might have a mid-morning invasion coming soon. I’ll help you out.”

“Thanks, Jules.”

“And this board has really filled up.”

“Yeah, I think Essie’s got everybody now.”

“It looks like all the kids have some red and some green lines.”

“Except the Carver boys. Bob and Penny never let their nephews out of their sight. Model citizens, those boys—and that whole family.”

“I think I’d jump in front of a bus if a man loved me as much as Bob loves Penny—I mean, the way he fawns over her all the time. Doesn’t she get tired of that?”

“I guess not. She’s just as crazy for him.”

“Does he still glue ‘Pennies for Penny’ all over his golf cart? That thing must weigh an extra ton.”

“Yep. He always has his tube of superglue in case he finds another penny.”

“Well, anyway, it can’t be one of these kids doing all of the thefts, because they all seem to have alibis for where they were during one theft or another. Maybe…” Jules walked up to the front window and looked out at all the kids, deep in thought.

“Maybe what, Jules?”

“Maybe they’ve formed some kind of gang. Look at them—half of them are on their phones or texting all the time. Maybe it’s a network of thieves, and they take turns being the look-outs and the burglars. And they’re not all on-duty at the same time.” She turned around and joined me back at the table.

“Well, every kid in the world is texting or posting pictures all day long. But that could be a possibility. Now we’ll have to start cross-referencing all of the red lines to see who could be working together.”

The front door opened and Tony came in. “Never fear, super coffeeman is here!”

“There’s our culprit!” Jules said with a smile. “Just look at those beady eyes.”

Tony looked alarmed. “What? Culprit? What did I do?”

“Settle down, Tony. She’s just teasing you,” I said, sitting up and trying to look more professional and presentable. “We were just talking about the rash of robberies that just won’t quit. As far as the espresso machine, it’s the filter thing this time. I can’t get it to stay on, and water spurts out above the grounds.”

“Probably a gasket,” He said. “You girls shouldn’t scare me like that. I was raised in an Italian family and went to a Catholic school, so I was brought up feeling guilty for all the sins of the world. Now I’ll have to say a rosary to purify my soul.” He went to work taking the filter apparatus apart.

Jules and I laughed—a lot. “Sorry, Tony! Altar boys are beyond suspicion. Besides, you’ve probably been here during most of the crimes.”

“Yeah, the rubber gasket just slipped off one side so it couldn’t make a tight seal. All set.”

“That was fast. Thanks. Say, Tony…did you stop by Jules’ house last Saturday?”

He stopped in his tracks by our table and turned white as a ghost.  His head snapped toward Jules. “Were you robbed again?”

“Nooo!” Jules said and caressed his arm a little. “Relax. This isn’t an interrogation.”

“I just felt so bad for you when your ring went missing.”

I took it from there. “It’s just that the little Jenkins boy said he saw you leaving her place.”

“Oh, yeah.” The color returned to his face and he sat down. “That was the day you couldn’t find your ring. I just wanted to see if maybe a glass of wine and some pasta at
Mangia Bene
might make you feel better. But I guess you were still at work.”

“How did you know where I lived?”

Tony looked at me and then at his hands in his lap. “I…may have followed you home one time. You know, just to make sure you got there safely. I dropped off a home coffee maker to a house on Bluebird Lane, and I saw you go by, so I watched for a while, and then followed behind in my car. It was just a block or two, and you were home. I remembered the ravine full of trees by your house.” There was a brief but awkward moment. “Well, I gotta go. More machines to fix!” And he was out the door.

Jules looked at me. “So…creepy or sweet, Lily?”

“Following you home? Sweet,” I answered without hesitation. “I’d say that guy has it bad for you Jules. His technique needs work, but he doesn’t have a bad bone in his body.”

Toe walked in the front door. He stopped and looked around the room. “Oh. Must be hair-do day.” He halfway tipped his cap to us. “The usual.” Then he walked to the table in the corner nearest the counter where Harvey was still sleeping with his head against the wall. “Rrrraaaaawww! Oh! Someone’s stealing Miss Pickles, Harvey!”

Miss Pickles was Harvey’s beloved cat that famously loved all the men and had nothing but fangs and claws for the ladies.

Harvey roused in a hurry, totally disoriented, and nearly fell off his chair. Toe got a good guffaw out of it as he sat down, and I’ll admit that Jules and I had a chuckle too.

“Oh, you cantankerous old son of a gun. I wasn't napping, only surveying my eyelids and daydreaming,” Harvey rubbed his eyes and sat up straight. “I was in the middle of a dance with Elizabeth Taylor, and now you’ve ruined it.”

I set Toe’s coffee and muffin on the table. “Harvey, you shouldn’t be dancing with old, dead movie stars. You can do better than that.”

Jules set down a fresh hot cup of coffee for him.

“Well, first of all, it was the
Butterfield 8
Liz Taylor from 1960, not the dead one. And,” he shook his head with a frustrated look on his face, “I’d take your Aunt Hildie dancing every night if she’d have me. But all she’s interested in is a friend for cards and conversation.”

I couldn’t argue with that. The man was right. Better let him have his dreams of Elizabeth Taylor.

The first group of kids came through the door and sat in the window. Jules ran over to take care of them just as Eli walked in the door behind them and sat down next to his dad.

“You look tired, Pop. Getting enough sleep?”

Harvey nodded. “Yeah. Toe just woke me up from my nap.”

“I was hoping to find you here, Toe.”

I had to move over to the end of the counter to hear what they were saying over the whir of the blender.

“We got the reports back from the lab. The pen was wiped clean, no fingerprints. Just a trace of some powder again.”

“Again?” Toe asked.

Eli ignored the question. “Dad’s iPad did have your thumbprint on one side and your four fingers on the other. Any idea how those got there?”

Harvey and Toe looked at each other. “Maybe you used it for something, Toe.”

“I don’t do any of that computer stuff, Harvey. You know that.”

“Well, maybe you were just admiring it.” Harvey was doing his best to come up with an innocent explanation for Toe’s fingerprints to be on his tablet.

“Okay, guys. I’m going to talk to Lily for a minute.”

“If I don’t see you tomorrow, son,” Harvey said to Eli, “I’ll see you Sunday for the Sleepy Palms Steeplechase. The smart money is on me and Sharkey.”

“Sure thing, Pop.”

My big hunk of love leaned on the counter just as I was shoving the smoothies for the kids across to Jules.

“So, no good news for Toe it sounds like.”

“Well…” Eli scratched his head. “…I don’t know. It seems pretty strange that the pen he had in his shirt pocket would have no prints on it. It was wiped clean, like someone wanted to get rid of any prints that were on it.”

“And why would he wipe his prints off a pen if his name was printed on it anyway? If it were in his pocket, he would have touched it, and if it slipped out accidentally, he wouldn’t have wiped it…”

“Lily.” Eli looked at me with concerned eyes. “You didn’t do anything to that pen to help Toe, did you?”

I crossed my heart and held my hand up. “Eli, I swear. I got the fork and the baggie, slid the pen in the bag, and never opened it.”

“Okay. Are we still on for dinner tomorrow?”

“As long as you don’t have to work again like last week. How should I dress?”

He looked at me with a smile. “Torch Club,” he said with a wink.

That wasn’t quite the place where guys pull out diamond rings over dessert, but it was a pretty clear indication that things were escalating to the next level, beyond bowling and burgers. I was hoping for an “I love you,” but would settle for  “I hope you know how much you mean to me” and a nice long kiss.

  Chapter Nine

Essie stood by the front door of the Coffee Cabana looking out the window.

“If Moses really wanted Pharaoh to let his people go, he should’ve had God send a plague of children instead of locusts or frogs.” She seemed to be eyeballing every kid on the street with laser eyes.

“Come and sit down now, Essie.” Hildie walked up front and took her sister’s elbow. “No one’s going to come in here with that sour face of yours in the door.”

“Maybe so. I’ll smile then. I’m just trying to see if any of these girls are wearing my jewelry.”

“It’s not really teeny-bopper kind of stuff, Essie.” I put on a pot of decaf to brew and filled my mug with regular—plus a shot of espresso for an extra caffeine to kick start my day. The weekday morning business was great, but it was nice to catch a few extra winks on this Saturday. Coming in at 9:00 was a lot better than 6:00.

“Your hair still looks great, ladies. I don’t know how you keep it so perfect overnight.” Essie’s hair was a beautiful grey, and Hildie’s was almost a pure white that glowed in the morning light. Both had perfectly curled short perms.

“We wrap it in toilet paper and sleep on our backs, dear,” Hildie said with a gentle smile as she guided Essie to our “command center” table.

Essie gave her a glare and a grimace. “Yeah, be sure to tell the men that. It sounds very appealing. At least Fannie’s not around to hear it and spread it all over with her gossip rag.”

“It’ll be my front page news next week!” Jules was just coming in through the back to get a morning cup of tea. “Toilet Paper Turbans for the Coffee Queens!”

Essie managed a smile. Only Jules could get away with a remark like that. “Mmhmm. And the next week the big story would be your obituary.”

“Essie!” It’s not often that Essie can actually shock me.

“Oh, settle down,” Jules said to me with a smile and a bounce in her step as she walked over and hugged my aunts. “We’re just teasing each other. Your hair does look beautiful, Essie. Yours too, Hildie. Your pictures would make a good ad for Connie’s Salon.”

“Tea today?” I asked her, since I was behind the counter anyway.

“Yep. I’ll get it.”

“Sit. So, is the press ready to roll?”

“It’s oiled and inked and ready to go. The paper will be in Monday, and I’ve got a great press operator lined up. Now all I have to do is write a newspaper!”

“Well, the Sleepy Palms charity event this weekend should give you a few stories and some great pictures,” Essie said. “There’s a lot of activity over there today and tomorrow. Golf, a big picnic for the families…”

“And the big golf cart steeplechase tomorrow,” I added. “Are you and Toe going to enter it, Essie?”

She gave me a look that would make small children cry, but I could see through it. “Toe doesn’t have a golf cart. He has a pickup truck for his handyman business.”

“No, but you do. Each cart needs a knight and a damsel.”

“Well, he hasn’t asked, and I don’t want to take my new golf cart through mud puddles and bumpy trails. Besides…” She inhaled deeply and looked straight ahead at the wall. “…what if he’s a criminal?”

Hildie broke the awkward silence. “Well, it’s the 21
st
Century. Why can’t two damsels enter the race? Essie, we can drive around those puddles and hazards and still beat the others with their old clunker carts. What do you say?”

She nodded. “But what about Harvey? I know he’s been looking forward to the steeplechase. Won’t you be riding with him?”

“I’d rather beat him. He thinks just because his shark-mobile can run over Mr. Jeffries a few times that he can glide right through this track. Besides, maybe he’d rather take the future mother of his grandchildren.”

It took a three-count for me to realize that she was talking about me. “Whoa, there, Hildie. You’re putting that golf cart way before the horse. Anyway, Moira and Carmen and I are going to set up a stand to sell smoothies and frappes there tomorrow. We’re going to fill up all 12 air pots and sell them for $5 apiece.”

Hildie looked at Jules.

“Don’t look at me! I’ll be taking pictures and interviewing people for the paper.”

“Well, he can bring Miss Pickles or maybe the Jenkins girl. They’re still in town with Tommy and Tabitha while their parents are taking a Mediterranean cruise to see if they can iron out their intense hatred of each other.”

“Yeah.” Essie crossed her ankles and clasped her hands on her lap. “That little Josie would be a lighter load for his golf cart to carry anyway.”

Hildie’s face grew red with ire, but, as always, she chose to bite her tongue. Jules and I rolled our eyes and shook our heads just enough for each other to see.

“Well, at least with all of these burglaries I’ll have some real news for the front page.” Jules looked around the table and then over to the bulletin board. “It’s been a week, you guys. Help me figure this out. It would help get the paper off to a good start if we could figure this thing out. I want each of you to tell me who you think is guilty and why.” She got the small order pad and a pen from the counter. “Hildie, who do you think is doing this?”

The old girl didn’t hesitate. “Trevor Barton, Clarence Jackson—and Moira Baumgardner.”

Jules and I looked at each other, a little shocked and confused. “Why, Hildie?”

“Well, Trevor was around for most of these thefts, and he was right there when his father’s phone was stolen.”

“True,” I said, “but he lives here in Sweet Home, so he doesn’t go to the theme parks during peak season like all of the visiting grandkids. Mike usually takes him in January. That’s why he’s always around. So are we, for that matter. Why Clarence?”

“I talked to Clyde Jackson at the hardware store the other day, just casually, you know. Clarence is his great-nephew and staying with him this summer, and he says the boy was there at the time when his bank deposit was stolen. Clarence tried to pass off the blame to some woman who he says was getting ready to buy something. There was a little pry bar and a screwdriver left on the counter, price tags still on them, when the bank deposit was nabbed. Somebody must have been planning to buy them, but no one else remembers seeing a woman. Clyde says he would’ve seen somebody in the aisles because the shelves aren’t that high, so maybe Clarence put those items there so he could blame someone else. And Clarence is good friends with Trevor too.”

Pretty thin, I thought. But, Clarence was one of the few people there. “But Moira Baumgardner? She’s a sweetheart.”

Hildie nodded. “Yes she is. But it’s always the sweet ones.”

“You’re the sweet one, Aunt Hildie.”

Essie gave me a look, but she could hardly deny the truth.

“And Moira’s in here every day after the morning coffee rush.” I just couldn’t wrap my head around Moira as a suspect. “Nothing’s been missing.”

“That’s because she’s smart. She could have run down to the gas station for a candy bar and grabbed Harvey’s iPad. And, since she’s right across the street it would have been easy enough for her to slip it into Toe’s truck out front to cast suspicion on him. And she was at the Tastee Freeze when Junie’s money was snatched. She was the one who told Eli that she had seen Toe’s truck nearby. And she’s sweet on Trevor too, and always on her phone texting, plotting.”

I don’t know. It would take time for me to work through Hildie’s theory.

Jules just made a few notes and then turned to my other aunt. “Essie, what’s your theory?”

She sat still for a moment and then turned to Jules. “Everything points to Toe Thompson. The pen, Harvey’s little computer thing, his truck near the ice cream cone place.”

Those facts were all painfully true. Essie explained more deeply.

“He left here before we did on Sunday. He didn’t have a pen to write our painting job on his calendar. He went right to our place, put on gloves to commit the crime, then saw his boxful of pens and remembered to put a new pen into his pocket, so no fingerprints. He’s a handyman, so he’s got those paper booties to cover his shoes. That’s why there was no evidence of him being in the living room. The pen fell out when he looked at the paint. They knew he was in the kitchen because of the broken glass and the bedrooms because of the jewelry boxes. He thought we would leave the shop at our usual time an hour later, but we just did a couple chores here and then went home. So, he was surprised to hear us coming and ran out the back and left the door open.”

She is a clever old girl. “Anything else, Essie?”

“I heard him asking Harvey to borrow money a couple weeks ago. He had just done some repairs to his truck, and his business was slow too. He needed money. It’s Toe alright.”

“That’s quite convincing, Essie,” Hildie said with a nod. “And just the other day—Thursday, I think—Toe’s truck was right across the street when someone broke into Carmen and Albert’s home and stole all of that day’s coffee money for the Campfire Girls. Three hundred dollars. I figured that pointed to Moira too, but it could also point to Toe.”

I hadn’t heard about that. No wonder Moira looked so distressed on Friday morning.

“It was Toe,” Essie said. “He claimed that Edna Gertz across the street from the Baumgardners had called him for an emergency repair of a broken window. But she didn’t call him, and her windows were fine. And he knew the Baumgardners were at their rental store and not home.”

Jules looked at me.

“I’d like to make a case against the ponytail guy and the lady biker, but my evidence can’t hold a candle to Essie’s and Hildie’s accounts.”

“Well, I better go and get some pictures of the picnic and the golf tournament,” Jules said. “Are you and Eli going out tonight?”

“Yup.”

“To the moonlight square dance at Sleepy Palms?”

“Nope.”

“Bowling?”

“Nope.” I couldn’t hold back the hint of a smile.

“So…spill. Where’s he taking you?”

“Oh, no place special. We’re just going to grab a bite…at the Torch Club.”

Jules’ jaw dropped and she gave me a hug.

“I knew that big lug was in love with you. Don’t come home early, if at all, and tell me all the details at the steeplechase tomorrow.”

Essie and Hildie seemed pleased too as Jules waved and went out the front door.

“That’s where Joe proposed to me,” Essie said with a misty look in her eye. “It was the nicest place in town back then.”

“It’s still one of the nicest,” Hildie said. “Do you think…”

“No.” I stopped her in mid-sentence. “He won’t be popping any question tonight. We’re not at that stage yet…but maybe this will bring us a step closer.”

“Well, you just go on and get out of here. Check out the picnic for a while, and then get home early so you can start getting ready,” Essie said with a pat on my arm. “We’ll run the shop today. Hildie knows all of the fancy coffee drinks, and I’ve been watching you do the cold ones. Just don’t worry about the Coffee Cabana today.”

Hildie had pulled her phone out of her pocket. I didn’t even know she had joined the cellular age.

“Hello, Connie? It’s Hildie. …No, no, there’s no problem with my new hair-do. It’s just fine. But I have an emergency for you. My niece is going to the Torch Club tonight, and…well, I’ve told you about the sorry state of her hair. …That would be great. Now, this will take you a while. It’s a real hornet’s nest.”

Gee, thanks Hildie.

“Yes,” Hildie continued, “whatever you can do, just put it on my account. Hot oil, extensions, highlights, and any other tricks you’ve got up your sleeve. Thanks so much Connie. I’ll send her right over.”

Hildie stood up and literally pushed me towards the door.

“Hildie…”

“Don’t ‘Hildie’ me. You’re going to Connie’s right now.”

“Essie…” I pleaded.

“Don’t make me tie you up and carry you there…”

“Auntie…”

“…cause I’ll do it! What?”

“Thank you!”