Caffeine & Killers (A Roasted Love Cozy Mystery Book 3) (21 page)

As I walked into the alley and headed towards the
dumpster, my mind jumped into high gear. Maybe, there was a good
chance that I'd find more things belonging to Homeless John out
there. The trash had been picked up twice since his death, but they
didn’t always get everything and plenty of small stuff always fell
out into the alley.

The container itself was pretty deep, though I
could still look into it if I stood on tiptoe. I held the envelope
under my elbow and bent down to search the ground outside of the
dumpster first. The streetlight in the alley lit up the area fairly
well, though I was sure that to anyone who happened to pass by it
looked like I was right in the middle of dumpster diving.

But to my disappointment, there was nothing else
of significance on the ground. I flipped open the dumpster lid and
stood on tiptoe. There were shadows inside and I couldn't see much.

I went back to my car and retrieved a small
flashlight from the glove compartment. I felt the pepper spray next
to it and grabbed them both. Slipping the pepper spray into my
pocket, I hiked back into the alley.

Once more, I stretched tall so I could peer inside
the bin and aimed my flashlight into it. The only way to see to the
bottom was if I moved tonight’s trash bags out of the way – but
that was impossible. I didn’t want to climb inside the thing only
to find I couldn’t get back out.

I sighed, and stood there for a moment in the
shadow of the dumpster trying to decide what to do next.

Suddenly, someone grabbed me from behind. Strong
arms lifted me up, as if to add me to the trash inside. I found
myself hanging over the edge with my head hanging into the awful
darkness and stench of the dumpster.

Quickly, I clutched the arm of my attacker and
pulled myself up with sheer force – and came face to face with John
Collins, the DEA agent.

He yanked his arm back and forth as if to shake me
from his grip. The pepper spray was useless at this point. I couldn’t
release my grip on his arm and dig for my ammunition at the same time
– but I realized I wasn't getting out of this situation alive
unless I could reach that spray.

I dropped the flashlight and let it fall clanging
into the bin. With everything I had within me, I managed to keep my
grip on the man with one hand and use the other to dig in my pocket
for the pepper spray. It all happened within an instant, but I
managed to spray a huge shot of it right in his face.

More than once.

He let go and stumbled away from me. That gave me
a chance to grab the edge of the bin, get my balance, and push myself
away.

I dropped down hard to the ground. While Collins
rubbed his eyes and staggered and swore, I raced down the alley
faster than I'd ever run in my life. I could only hope that one of
the other merchants was out behind his store.

Then my heart froze again when I heard running
footsteps close in on me.

My cries for help were strangled when I fell hard
to the ground. Rocks and gravel cut into my face and hands and my
pepper spray container rolled away.

John Collins’ strong hands pinned me down.
"Stupid girl," he hissed between gritted teeth. "If it
hadn’t been for you, no one would have cared about a homeless
junkie dying. Now you're going to pay for your interference."

He was furiously angry and I recognized it a most
likely the source of the gravelly, hissing voice I'd heard on those
phone calls. In addition to trying to throw me away like garbage,
Collins was the one who'd been stalking me.

But that was the least of my problems now. His
iron grasp around my throat cut off my air. I struggled to get away
from him, but he was far too strong.

Suddenly his grip on my neck eased up. And to my
shock, Collins fell to the ground of the alley like a huge sack of
potatoes.

I pushed myself up to a sitting position, scooting
backward to get away from him. I looked up to see another person
standing over Collins – a person I recognized.

Licorice Billy.

"Where did you come from?" I asked. I
struggled to make my voice sound normal, but it was coarse and raspy
from being half-strangled.

Billy shrugged. I saw that he clutched what looked
like a tire iron in one hand. "I have to go somewhere in the
nighttime. I told you the shelter was no place to get a good night’s
sleep."

"Are you still sleeping in front of Roasted
Love?" I asked. It hit me as ludicrous that we were having this
discussion when there was a man who'd just tried to kill me lying
unconscious on the ground.

I fumbled in my pocket for my cell phone. Then I
remembered it was in my car on the front seat. Slowly, I got to my
feet and found that I was shaking all over.

"I’m not littering the front of the coffee
shop," Billy said. "I sleep nearby and wait for whatever
gets thrown out from your shop. A man has to eat."

For the first time, I noticed that there was no
black licorice juice around his mouth. But if I hadn’t known Billy,
I still would have been scared of the grotesque look of his face
highlighted by the streetlight just above us.

"I have to get to my cell phone. It’s in my
car," I said to Billy. I took a step. I tried to walk normally,
but in reality I could barely get one foot in front of the other.

Licorice Billy looked toward my car. He shuffled
away from me and I watched as he opened the driver’s side, reached
in, and pulled out my cell phone. He then ambled back over and handed
it to me without a word.

"Ya know," he said, "John Wilkins
and I were on the same side. Sure, we had our ups and downs, but we
both worked at helping others in the same boat we were in." He
scuffed a few rocks with his worn shoes and then looked at the man on
the ground.

John Collins began to moan. "Take this guy
here," Billy said, nodding his head towards him. "He's got
the power to help a lot of people. Instead, he just makes things
worse. Ricky and I were pretty sure he killed John." Billy
looked over at me. "He killed Ricky, too."

"But – why?" was all I could say. "Why
would an officer of the law sink to murder? What in the world would
he have to gain?"

Billy looked closely at Collins. "You better
call for help. I think he's coming to." Billy held up the tire
iron. "You want me to hit him again?"

"No. No," I said quickly. "No, I
don't think that'll be necessary." Collins moaned and moved a
little, but it was going to be a while before he was any threat.

I did manage to dial 9-1-1, and within a couple of
minutes there was a patrol car in the alley with red and blue lights
flashing. Licorice Billy slipped away just as they parked.

"You sure got here fast," I said, when
the first officer stepped out of the cruiser. His name tag read
Leo
Swenson, Officer
.

"We were just down the street. Hey – that's
– is that John Collins lying there?" He hurried to Collins's
side and got a look at the fallen man's face.

He then motioned for the other officer to come
over and take my statement. I turned and walked towards the cruiser,
and that's when Leo saw my bruised neck and gravel-scraped face and
hands. "Wait a minute. I’m calling for an ambulance to get you
checked out."

I soon realized that no amount of protest would
change his mind. He'd noticed that I still wore my name tag for
Roasted Love. "You're Daniel’s Laila, aren’t you?"

I looked up at him, and almost broke down in
tears. "Yes," I whispered.

"If I don’t call a paramedic, Daniel will
have my head. Just wait right here."

By that time, John Collins was sitting up in
handcuffs and seemed to be mostly conscious. I could hear him trying
to make excuses as to why he was in the position he was in. "She
attacked me for no reason," he mumbled, his voice slurred. "I
was back here looking for evidence when she came up behind me."

Even to the cops, who had heard it all, that could
only sound lame. A short time later, an ambulance took Collins away
with the second officer riding along.

Then a second paramedic squad arrived for me, and
the first one to reach me put his arms around me and held me close.
"Laila! Just lie still. We'll take care of you. I'll be mad at
you later for getting mixed up in this. Okay?"

"Okay, Daniel," I whispered, knowing I
was safe at last.

Officer Swenson came over to me. "Ms. Rook,
can you give me a statement as to exactly what went on here?"

Daniel looked up at him. "She needs to be
transported now. I'll have her tell it all to Chief Hayes as soon as
she's been taken care of. I'm sure he’ll be more than interested in
what she has to say."

I raised my head a little. "Will John Collins
be back at work after he leaves the hospital?"

Swenson raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.
"Oh, I wouldn't look for him, ma'am. I don't think any of us
will be seeing him ever again."

"I’ll drive your car and follow the
ambulance to the emergency room," said Daniel. He leaned down
and kissed me. "Thank God you're safe, Laila."

I gave him a weak smile and closed my eyes. My
nightmare was finally over.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Daniel and I left the emergency room a few hours
later. I had to have some gravel picked out of my hands and face and
got a tetanus booster.

Daniel asked to be relieved of EMT duties for the
rest of the night. "I’ll pick up my car tomorrow," he
said, "and drive you home in your car now. Thor's probably been
into your refrigerator by now."

"Oh! oh, Thor!" I couldn’t believe
that my poor Doberman, my best friend, had completely slipped my
mind. Daniel was right; it was well past doggie dinner time.

When we arrived home, Thor greeted me briefly and
then ran for the back door. Daniel let him out and then went to my
refrigerator.

"Not much in there that Thor would have a
feast with," I said.

Daniel opened the refrigerator door. "Hmm.
You're right. Do you have any soup?"

I pointed to the pantry door and he found
something that caught his eye.

I had been ordered to stay propped up on the
couch. My face looked like a war zone, but the emergency room doctor
had assured me that the scratches and cuts were superficial and would
soon heal.

The worst of it, though, was my throat. It was
still very sore and bruised from where John’s hands had squeezed my
neck. I raised my hand up and touched the bruises.

Daniel saw me, and frowned. "Let’s not
relive your nightmare," said Daniel. He looked at me with
concern. "That is, unless you want to talk about it."

I shook my head. "No. I'd rather eat and
watch a good movie."

"You got it."

We both enjoyed some delicious chicken soup with
buttered toast. Very soon I found myself nodding off during the
flick. Daniel woke me up long enough to tell me to head for bed.

He insisted on sleeping on the couch all night.
"You don’t need to be here alone tonight. I’ll be right here
in case you need something."

I wasn't about to argue. That night I slept like
the dead and woke up around eight the next morning to the aroma of
fresh coffee. I took a nice hot shower and then joined Daniel out in
the kitchen.

"Where did you get eggs and bacon?" I
asked him.

"Well, not in
your
refrigerator,"
he said. The twinkle in his eyes drew me in. "I’ve been up
since six. Thor's had a good run, I’ve been to the grocery store,
and now you have breakfast."

"You are amazing," I said, and meant it.
"Are you going back to work today?"

"Well, I'm supposed to, unless you need me
here."

"No. I'm fine. Really. But thank you."

After Daniel left later that morning, my phone
rang. It was Jacob. He'd heard about my ordeal and was calling to
insist I stay home until tomorrow. That suited me fine, because I
wanted nothing more right now than to see Chief Hayes. I wanted full
details on what could possibly have motivated a Drug Enforcement
Agent to kill two homeless men.

Besides, I was supposed to come down to the
precinct house this morning anyway to give a statement regarding my
near-death experience of the night before.

# # #

At eleven a.m., I pulled up in front of the
precinct house. Chief Hayes’s look of concern when I walked into
his office touched me more than I would have expected. He came around
his desk, took my arm, and led me to the chair across from his desk.

"How are you, Laila?" he asked. "Are
you sure you're up to this today?"

I grinned, feeling better than I had last night
and relieved that things were going to go back to normal. "I’m
more than up to it. I had no idea John Collins was anyone other than
an officer who had his head on straight."

"Well, we've had our eye on him for the last
few weeks, along with some higher-ups in the DEA," said the
chief. "At first things appeared to be only rumors with no
evidence to back them up. But Collins started spending too many extra
hours in the old downtown. He confiscated a lot of drugs, but the
problem was that his reports didn’t match what he actually turned
in. It was easier for us to watch him than fellow DEA agents."

I looked up. "Are you telling me he was a
drug dealer, too?"

Chief Hayes nodded. "Well, in a way. He
wasn't pushing on the street, but doing bigger deals by confiscating
drugs from street dealers. But he wouldn't arrest them so he could
keep the supply coming. And I'm sure you being down there talking to
someone like Ricky Thomas, made him nervous too. There were a few
people down there who knew he was crooked."

I moved around in the chair, trying to get
comfortable. The chief noticed and spoke with genuine concern for me.
"Laila, you go home and relax the rest of the day. You’ve been
through a lot. We can get your statement later. I can even send a
couple of officers to your house and take care of that."