I can’t believe he’s threatening us in public like this or that he brought the murder weapon with him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I say. “You’ve got a café full of witnesses.”
Beside me, Jamar is on his phone, and I’d bet money he’s calling the police.
“I don’t care what you think is a good idea. Someone needs to teach you not to mess with my wife.”
Mrs. Marlow walks up behind Marcus Bishop and hits him over the head with her coffee mug. My hand flies to my mouth. Marcus whirls around, ready to punch his assailant.
“No!” I scream.
Complete chaos ensues as my customers surround Mrs. Marlow to protect her from the giant man.
Jamar pockets his phone and grabs Marcus’s arm. Cam rushes around the counter and pries the knife from his grasp. The next thing I know, they have Marcus facedown on the ground.
“Let me up. This is assault!” he yells.
“You threatened my fiancée with a knife. You’re lucky you’re still breathing,” Cam says through gritted teeth.
Mrs. Marlow wraps her arm around me. “Are you okay, Jo?”
“Yes. You shouldn’t have hit him, though. He could have hurt you.”
“Don’t you worry about me. I’m a lot tougher than I look.”
“I know you are.”
The guys keep Marcus pinned to the ground. Cam is still holding the knife, and I’m not sure who is more afraid he’ll use it, Marcus or me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Cam so angry.
“Mickey is going to be so upset he missed all the fun,” Mrs. Marlow says as police sirens ring out down the street.
“That should be Quentin,” Jamar says.
“You called him specifically?” I ask.
He bobs his head. “I thought it would be best. This is about his case, right?”
I suppose that makes sense.
Quentin hurries in, his gaze going to Marcus Bishop on the floor first and then me. “Get off him,” he yells to Cam and Jamar.
Cam stands up and holds the steak knife out to Quentin. “He threatened Jo with this. Interesting choice of weapon, don’t you think?’
Quentin bobs his head and approaches Marcus. “Marcus Bishop, place your hands behind your back. You’re under arrest for attempted assault with a weapon.”
Marcus sneers at me as Quentin cuffs him. “This isn’t over.”
“No, it’s not,” Quentin says. “Jo and Cam, I’d like you both to come to the station as well. You can follow me.”
“Robin and I will close up here,” Jamar tells me.
“Thanks, guys,” I say. “And please get everyone a refill on the house.”
Applause rings through the café.
Cam and I follow Quentin to the station, where he brings Marcus Bishop to an interrogation room. Before we step inside, he whispers, “I’ll need a list of everyone who was in Cup of Jo just now. They’re all eye witnesses in case Mr. Bishop decides not to cooperate.”
I bob my head. The place wasn’t that crowded, so it won’t be difficult to remember who was there.
We sit down on the opposite side of the table from Marcus. Cam is leaning forward, glaring right at Marcus. I place my hand on his thigh, wanting him to calm down.
“Mr. Bishop, why did you go into Cup of Jo this evening?” Quentin begins.
“To see her.” He leans back and gestures at me.
“Why did you attack Jo?” Quentin asks.
“I didn’t attack anyone. That old lady hit me over the head with a coffee mug.”
“You held a knife at Jo,” Cam says. “Mrs. Marlow heroically tried to protect her.”
“Easy, Cam,” Quentin says, holding out his arm because Cam is halfway across the table. He waits until Cam is sitting back in his seat before he continues. “Why did you bring a knife into Cup of Jo?”
“I had it from my lunch. It’s not like I set out to use it.”
“You didn’t hesitate to pull it out,” Cam says.
I nod to Quentin, confirming that’s true.
“Yeah, well, I was angry. You harassed my wife.”
“I was at your home today with these two. No one harassed your wife, Mr. Bishop. We merely questioned her.” Quentin laces his fingers on the table. “Are you aware she was having an affair with Simon Porter, the man who was murdered at the site of the new hotel construction on Ridgeway Court?”
Marcus stiffens, and his nostrils flare.
“Answer the question, Mr. Bishop,” Quentin says.
“This isn’t a courtroom, and I’m not on trial. I know my rights. I don’t have to tell you anything.”
Quentin stands up. “Fine.” He walks to the door and pulls the knife out of his pocket. “Officer Liberman,” he calls out, “I want this knife checked for prints and blood. You can ignore Mr. Turner’s prints. He disarmed Mr. Bishop here.”
“I’ll get it to the CSI team immediately,” Officer Liberman says, taking the weapon.
“What’s the point of that?” Marcus asks. “It’s my knife. Of course, my fingerprints are on it.”
“Is Simon Porter’s blood on the blade as well?” Quentin asks.
“I didn’t kill anyone.”
“You wanted to, though, didn’t you?” I ask. If he came at me with a knife for questioning his wife, I can only imagine what he’d do to the man who was having an affair with her.
Marcus doesn’t respond. He crosses his arms and looks away like a petulant child.
“Carla said you sometimes came home late at night and went to sleep in her room by mistake, but I don’t think it was a mistake at all. I think you love your wife.”
“You don’t know me or her,” he says, and the fact that I was able to get him talking again so easily gives me hope.
“Let’s test that theory. I’ll tell you what I think about you and Carla. Then you can tell me how much I got right.”
A scoff is his only reply.
“I think you convinced her to marry you by promising to give her everything money can buy. You said it would be a business arrangement. All she had to do was show up at work events with you and look the part.” I pause and study his face. “How am I doing so far?”
He doesn’t so much as blink.
“I’ll take your silence to mean I’m on the right track. She has no idea you’re in love with her, does she? And you won’t tell her because she’s so much younger than you. She doesn’t feel the same way about you, and that was confirmed when you found out she was having an affair with Simon Porter.”
“It must have been difficult to watch the woman you love fall for someone who was so much less successful than you,” Cam says.
“When did you find out about the affair?” Quentin asks, but once again, Marcus Bishop refuses to answer.
“You followed her to the job site Sunday night, didn’t you? You saw them together.”
Marcus’s eyes fill with tears.
“You had a knife in your pocket then, too, from your lunch.” I know he works seven days a week, and the fact that he had a steak knife on him today makes it entirely possible it’s a regular thing.
“Did you confront him?” Cam asks.
“Why not confront him and your wife together?” Quentin asks. “You could have stopped them from…” He doesn’t finish the statement.
“You didn’t want to fight with Carla, did you?” I say. “You only wanted Simon Porter out of the way. You two probably yelled, and he made you angry. That’s when you remembered the knife in your pocket. You stabbed him, first in the stomach. Then in the heart since he helped break yours. But you needed to make sure he was dead, so you stabbed him one final time in the throat.”
Marcus slams his cuffed hands down on the table, making me jump. “No! I wish I’d done that. Believe me I do. But I didn’t kill him. I want my lawyer. I’m not saying another word until he’s here.”
Quentin, Cam, and I leave Marcus Bishop stewing in the interrogation room while he waits for his lawyer to arrive. In the meantime, we go to Quentin’s desk to talk this through.
“I’m telling you, the way he reached for his knife and held it at Jo, it was just like he was ready to stab her in the stomach,” Cam says. “He’s lying. He killed Simon Porter. I’m sure of it.”
“The lab is testing the steak knife now,” Quentin says. “I’ll get a search warrant to check all the other knives in Marcus Bishop’s house. Of course, there is the possibility that he disposed of the murder weapon.”
“But the way he acted, everyone in Cup of Jo saw it. That has to be enough to arrest him,” Cam says, and I can feel his fear. He’s scared for me if Marcus Bishop isn’t put behind bars.
“Establishing a pattern of behaviors helps, but it’s not enough for a conviction. And besides, this isn’t even enough to call a pattern.”
Cam runs a hand through his hair.
“Hey.” I reach for his hand and lace my fingers through it. “You have to calm down. I’m fine. You, Jamar, and everyone else at Cup of Jo jumped on Marcus as soon as he threatened me. I was never in any real danger.”
“Did Mrs. Marlow really hit him over the head with a coffee mug?” Quentin asks, and I can tell he’s trying to stifle a laugh.
I nod and smile. “That woman is a spitfire.”
“I’m just glad he didn’t hurt her in retaliation.” Quentin sobers up at his own statement.
“You and me both. He whirled around on her, and I was scared he’d hurt her.”
Officer Liberman walks up to Quentin. “Detective Perry, here are the results of the fingerprints we lifted off the knife.” He hands Quentin a piece of paper.
“Thank you,” Quentin says. “We need enough to arrest Marcus and get his fingerprints on file, because right now, we don’t have a match in the system.”
“There was no trace of blood on the knife either,” Officer Liberman says.
“Good work, Liberman. Thank you.” Quentin dismisses him with a hand gesture.
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t kill Simon Porter,” Cam says. “You need to get a warrant to search his house.”
“I plan to. I can charge him with second-degree aggravated assault for trying to attack you with the knife. Hopefully, that will also give me time to find what we need to make an arrest for Simon Porter’s murder.”
Quentin sends us home for the night. I leave my car at Cup of Jo, and Cam insists on spending the night. Even though Marcus Bishop is at the station, Cam is too nervous to let me out of his sight. I can’t blame him. I’d be the same way if our situations were reversed.
We order in and watch movies until we both fall asleep on the couch.
Cup of Jo is so packed Friday morning I think we might have to close the doors to avoid breaking the fire code for maximum capacity. It’s so loud I can’t hear the person two feet in front of me ordering a drink.
“This is ridiculous.” I climb up onto the counter and whistle to get everyone’s attention. “Quiet!” I yell.
All eyes turn to me. “I know you all want to hear about what happened here yesterday, but you’re going to get Cam and me fined by the fire department or worse, brought down to the police station. If you have your order and somewhere else to be, like your jobs, please go start your day. The rest of you who usually sit to eat, I will not be answering questions about the ongoing murder case, so if you’re only here for that reason, you might as well go. Am I making myself clear?” I put my hands on my hips and look around the room. A few people walk out. I don’t even care if I lose customers at this point. “Good.” I get down from the counter.
“Maybe we should have called out,” Cam says, offering me a hand.
“I think you might be right.”
“It might be best if you two make yourselves scarce,” Jamar says.
“Or we could just threaten to close down if everyone doesn’t behave,” I say loudly enough for the people nearby to hear and spread the word. A few of them move away from the counter.
“You’re a little scary sometimes, Jo,” Jamar says.
Mo pushes through the crowd. “What is this I’m hearing about you being threatened at knifepoint?” She grabs my arms and looks me over. “Are you hurt? Why didn’t you call me? I can’t believe I’m the last person in town to hear about this. When did it happen?”
“Mo, slow down. You were working late. I got caught up at the station for a while, and Cam stayed the night at my place. I’m fine. No one hurt me.”
“Because I took him down!” Mrs. Marlow says, reenacting swatting someone over the head with her empty coffee mug.
Mo’s eyes widen at me.
“She did. She hit him, and then Jamar and Cam tackled and disarmed him.”
Mo pulls me into a hug. “I can’t believe I wasn’t here.” She steps back. “He’s lucky I wasn’t because I would have done far worse to him. He got off easy.”
“I wasn’t sure he would. Cam looked like he was ready to murder him with his own knife.”
“He has to be the killer, right? I mean he threatened you with a knife.”
“It was a steak knife, too.” A crowd is forming around us, everyone eager to hear about the case, so I pull Mo into the kitchen.
“Hey, Cam. I hear you and I both dodged nights in prison yesterday.”
“You have no idea how hard it was.” He removes his oven mitt and tosses it on the island. “I’ve never wanted to take a human life before.”
“I’m surprised. Jo has a knack for getting herself into bad situations.”
Okay, so I’ve been held at gunpoint a few times. The difference is, Cam witnessed my life being threatened yesterday. Usually, it’s Quentin who finds me in those predicaments.
“Well, I’m just glad it’s over,” Mo says.
“It’s not. There was no blood on the knife. Quentin is getting a search warrant for Marcus Bishop’s house and car. If he can’t find the murder weapon, we still have no proof. No one saw Marcus at the hotel site Sunday night. He could get away with this murder.” And come after me.