Caffeine & Killers (A Roasted Love Cozy Mystery Book 3) (17 page)

I knew I was overly distracted when Lily had to
nudge me. "Two more orders for your, Laila," she said. Her
eyes twinkled with teasing when I apologized and then got busy.

The door opened again and Councilman Carpenter
walked in. He caught my eye and waved. I smiled back in greeting.
Before he joined his campaign manager, Ronald Larch, Carpenter
greeted several customers by name and entered into short
conversations with them.

When he finally got to Larch's table, Lily was
there to take his order. I saw Larch push the newspaper across to
Carpenter and point to the article, but I couldn't hear them over the
buzz of other conversations in the coffee house.

Carpenter shook his head. I wondered what he was
thinking. I couldn’t tell if he looked disgusted or compassionate.
It appeared Larch was doing most of the talking.

# # #

When I left work around two o'clock, I went back
down to the precinct house hoping to find the Chief. I was in luck –
he was in and invited me right into his office.

"Remember when I asked you about Ricky
Thomas?" I said. Donald nodded. "He wasn’t arrested at
all. He's dead."

"Yes. I know. We were notified last night
that he was found dead," said the Chief. "Unfortunately,
that answers your question as to where he was."

I thought for a minute. "Then why would that
man on the street tell me he'd been arrested?" I said. "Do
you think maybe he was arrested, but then let out again?"

"Well, it depends on what he was arrested
for, or if there was anyone willing and able to bail him out. But
again, Laila, there's no record that he was ever arrested to begin
with."

He leaned back in his chair. "The man you
talked to probably just assumed that Ricky had been arrested. But two
of my officers were down there last night patrolling the area. They
were called to break up a fight near the grocery store, and that's
when they found Ricky Thomas’ body."

"How did he die?"

The chief shrugged. "As far as we can tell,
he overdosed. Of course, there are no autopsy or toxicology results
yet. Why do you ask?"

"Oh – I’m just wondering if the fight had
anything to do with his death. I mean – was he part of the fight?"

"From the initial reports, he didn’t appear
to have been in a fight of any kind. The ruckus was in front of the
store. The officers took that report and then checked the alley to
make sure nobody was hiding out back there. That’s when they found
Thomas's body."

# # #

When I left Chief Hayes's office, all I could
think about was finding out what Daniel could do for me when it came
to getting hold of Ricky Thomas’s autopsy report.

Though for once, I did hesitate about asking for
it. That would mean telling Daniel more about my connection with
Ricky than I was ready to let on about. Daniel and I were back on a
good track together right now, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that
again.

And it had been a while since I'd seen Licorice
Billy. It was obvious from my earlier observations that Billy and
Ricky were friends. I wondered how much he knew about Ricky’s
death.

I thought about the DEA man I'd seen twice down on
Skid Row. The DEA and the Chief of Police were working together on
cleaning up West River's homeless and drug problems in the old
downtown area. Maybe part of their plan included the visible presence
of an agent down on Skid Row.

When I got into my car, I noticed the same DEA man
pull up and park in a reserved spot outside the precinct house. Our
eyes met as he got out of the car and started towards the door. We
didn’t acknowledge one another. I wanted to ask him what he knew
about the death of a dealer named Ricky Thomas, but I wasn't sure
what I would say.

I shook my head and decided to let it go. I didn't
want to get mixed up in another death – a death that could very
well be murder. Ricky Thomas had been a drug dealer, after all, and
it shouldn’t surprise me if he'd overdosed – or been taken out by
a rival or even a dissatisfied customer.

Besides, I still had to figure out what had really
happened to Homeless John. That alone gave me plenty to think about.

# # #

Right after I got home, my cell phone rang. I
tensed for a moment, but then was very relieved – and happy – to
see that it was Daniel. "Laila, I’m just wondering if you've
had any more prank calls," he said.

"Yeah. There were a few more the night that
we ate lunch in the park. I told Chief Hayes about them, but he told
me it would be virtually impossible to trace who it was."

"That's true," he agreed. "Hey, how
about if we hang out at my place tonight and I'll make something for
dinner?"

"Works for me. That'd be great." Cooking
wasn’t my forte like Daniel’s. He could always put together a
meal in amazing ways when we ate at his place.

# # #

Thor and I arrived at Daniel’s place and were
greeted by the aroma of Mexican food. "I threw a salad together
to go with them," he said. "I made homemade tacos. I think
you’ll like them."

"Sounds great and smells fantastic."

Daniel handed two salads to me and I put them on
the table with the platter of tacos he made. He set down two dog food
bowls in the corner of the kitchen, and Benji Junior and Thor ran
right over to them. All four of us settled in quite happily to enjoy
our food.

Daniel turned to me. "Have you found out
anything new about what happened to Homeless John?"

I looked at him, and felt gratified. He was trying
to accommodate me by showing an interest. "No. Nothing new about
John. But did you know that another homeless man was found dead?"

Daniel nodded. "I heard. The call came in
last night right as I ended my shift. I didn’t get any details, but
it sounded like it happened in the bad part of downtown."

Was now the right time to be honest with Daniel? I
took a deep breath and jumped in.

"His name was Ricky Thomas," I said.
"Somebody down there identified the body when the cops found
him."

I waited. Daniel didn’t ask how I knew this, but
I felt compelled to explain. "I read it in the paper this
morning."

When our eyes met, I knew he had questions he
didn’t want to ask."

"Daniel, these tacos are so good. I wish I
could learn to cook like you." I tried to change the subject
back to food.

"Glad you like them. You could do these,
Laila. There's not much to them, but they're really good. I’ll put
some coffee on," he said. "When we're done, we can take the
dogs out for a short walk and then spend some time together."

We walked the dogs a couple of blocks and then
went back to Daniel’s to enjoy our after-dinner coffee. I started
to clean up the table while he served the coffee. "Just rinse
everything off and put it in the sink," he said. "I can
wash dishes later."

We sat down on the couch in the living room. I
wanted to discuss Ricky Thomas with Daniel, but still hesitated.

"I have some information you might be
interested in," said Daniel. "I found out the name of the
DEA agent that you’ve been wondering about."

That got my attention. "Who is he?"

"His name is John Collins. He's obsessed with
cleaning up the downtown area and getting rid of the drug trade
there. It's as though he's made that his mission in life."

"Wow. That explains a few things." I
thought about this. It certainly explained why Licorice Billy and
Ricky Thomas had laughed so scornfully at me when I thought my
homeless friend’s last name was Collins. He thought I meant John
Collins the DEA man, when I was really talking about Homeless John.

"I see the wheels turning in your head,
Laila. What is it?"

I realized that I was in too deep at this point.
There was no alternative except to explain why the man I'd thought
was "John Collins" was in reality John Wilkins – better
known to us as Homeless John.

Daniel listened intently as I talked. I saw
flashes of both anger and real concern as I told him the story. I
decided it was all or nothing as I plunged ahead and told him about
my experiences, though I did avoid telling Daniel exactly how many
times I'd been to Skid Row.

"So – you actually met Ricky Thomas?"
he asked. I nodded. To my surprise, he smiled, though it was a little
wryly. "I don’t know why I try to tell you to be careful about
all this, Laila. But please don’t tell me you're going to get mixed
up in Ricky's death now, too. He was a drug dealer. That explains why
he died of an overdose. What more do you need to know?"

"Well – " I took a deep breath and
braced myself. "Do you think you could get the autopsy report on
Ricky Thomas for me?"

He just stared at me in disbelief. I was afraid he
was going to kick me out of his apartment, but he just shook his head
instead. "I don't know why I'm doing this," he said. "Maybe
your curiosity's getting to me, too." He sighed with a wry
smile. "I'll get the reports for you."

I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him.
Tightly. "Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you."

"Just no more Skid Row visits, Laila,"
he said.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be too busy for that,"
I said, and hugged him tightly again.

Chapter Twenty Three

The next day, I made up my mind to get to know the
DEA agent named John Collins. I felt sure we could find common
ground. From what Daniel told me, Agent Collins took his job very
seriously when it came to cleaning up the drug problems in West
River’s downtown area.

When I headed for Skid Row, I had no idea whether
I'd find Agent Collins there or not. With Thor in the backseat, I
slowly maneuvered around the trash and broken glass to find a clean
spot to park along the street.

I decided that the best plan for right now was for
Thor and I to both stay in the car. The block was vacant except for a
dented old Buick and a couple of men leaning against the brick wall
of the pawn shop.

No one looked familiar to me. I stayed in my car
and thought about what to do next.

Suddenly, an unmarked cruiser rounded the corner
ahead of me and came straight towards my car. I recognized Agent John
Collins driving it, with another officer sitting in the front seat
beside him. John's eyes bored into me as they drove by, and it was
clear that he'd recognized me.

I had to think fast. Go or stay? The latter took
more nerve, but I also felt that now that I was here, I should make
it worth my while. A few minutes later, the cruiser appeared again
from behind me. This time John stopped the car and both officers got
out and walked toward me.

"What are you doing down in this
neighborhood?" asked the second officer. His voice was friendly,
but probing.

"I hoped to talk with Agent Collins," I
said. "I was waiting for you to finish your patrol around here."

John Collins stepped closer to my open window.
"Talk away," he said. "I'm John Collins. This is Mike
Stanton. What do you want to know?" His eyes clouded to the
point it was hard to read his dark facial expression. I could see
that all he really wanted was for me to get out of his territory.

"I know you're busy trying to clean up the
problems down here," I began, "but I wanted to ask you if
you've ever arrested Ricky Thomas."

Instead of answering, he turned to his partner.
"Mike, do you remember arresting anyone by the name of Ricky
Thomas?" Mike just shook his head.

John looked at me again, and stared in cold
silence. I squirmed a little and waited. "That answers your
question," John finally said. "He was never arrested."

I was sure that was highly unlikely in general,
but probably true of Agent Collins. A known drug dealer had certainly
been arrested at least one time in his life, and probably a lot more.
Mentally, I excused John Collins and his partner. They couldn’t
divulge police information to just anyone.

The second officer’s voice brought me back when
he said, "Did you know that the Ricky Thomas you're asking about
was found dead the other night?" His voice was very different
from John’s. It was as if he and I were simply talking as friends.

"Yes. I saw that in the newspaper."

"How did you know him?" asked Stanton.

I began to feel even more uneasy. His voice,
though still friendly, was beginning to sound like an interrogation.
Maybe they were down here investigating Ricky’s death, I thought.

I explained as briefly as possible how I'd come to
know Ricky Thomas. "I've always thought that John Wilkins’s
death was not an accident. I wanted to find someone down here who
knew him. Ricky was the first one I found."

I had a lot more questions – I especially wanted
to ask about the cause of Ricky’s death – but now was not the
time. I could see that both of them had just about had it with me.

Michael Stanton raised his eyebrows. "How did
you know John Wilkins?"

When I finished explaining things to Stanton, I
happened to noticed the familiar woman and two small children in the
distance.

Stanton followed my gaze. "Yeah, it’s bad
enough that there are people selling drugs down here, but it's worse
when I see somebody with kids wandering around," he said. His
eyes held what looked like genuine sympathy.

Collins spoke up. "Time to move on," he
said. I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or to his partner. Or
maybe both of us.

Then Collins turned to me. "You don’t need
to be down here. It's already been determined that John Wilkins died
of a self-inflicted drug overdose. Case closed."

He stared hard at me for a second. "If you
continue to come down here, the really dangerous drug users will
think you have something they want. Your appearance and your car are
way out of place here. I strongly suggest you stay in your own
neighborhood."

With that, Collins and Stanton got back into their
own car. They waited for me to drive off before they pulled out onto
the broken pavement again and turned the other way. In a moment they
were gone.