The bank is getting ready to close for the day, but Quentin’s badge gets us through the doors.
“Hi, Jo,” one of the tellers I usually go to says on her way out. “I hope they let you open Cup of Jo again soon. I don’t know how you did it, but I swear that was the best macchiato I’ve ever had.”
“Thanks, Jill.” She’s almost out the door when I call after her. “Oh, Jill, wait up a second.” I step outside so she doesn’t have to come back in. “I was wondering if you saw Mr. Cromwell on Monday morning. I know he likes to park his car in this lot here, and I was hoping someone saw which direction he went in after he parked.”
“No, sorry. His car is usually here before I get to work. I know he likes to go sit in the park, though.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Amanda told me that. She said that’s how he clears his mind before he walks around town. He eats breakfast there too some mornings.”
“Thanks, Jill. Enjoy your weekend.”
“Oh, I will. It’s my first weekend off in a long time. I have big plans of sleeping in and reading.”
“Sounds great,” I say before going back inside, where Cam is waiting for me.
Quentin is talking to the manager, a tall man I recognize.
“Hello, Mr. Englert,” I say.
“Joanna, nice to see you. I’m afraid you’ve missed most of my staff.”
“Yeah, I ran into Jill, but it looks like most of the others have already gone for the day.”
Quentin clears his throat. “Mr. Englert, I plan to come back in the morning, but I’m wondering if you can tell me whether or not you know of a phone call made Monday morning from the Cromwell residence.”
“I don’t handle incoming phone calls, I’m afraid.”
“Of course. I just figured I’d ask.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Mr. Englert says, extending a very long arm toward the door. If I had to guess, I’d say the guy is six foot eight.
“Well, that wasn’t helpful,” Cam says. “It almost seemed like he wanted to get rid of us.”
“It did,” Quentin says.
“Mr. Englert is a big man. If he was with Mr. Cromwell Monday morning, someone would have seen him. He can’t exactly hide in a crowd.”
“No, he can’t.” Quentin’s phone rings. “Perry. Yeah, go ahead.” He pauses. “I see. Good work. That might actually be very helpful.” He hangs up. “We got more results from the autopsy,” he says. “The full report is still weeks out, but something struck me as odd based on what you told me more than once.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“You said all that was in your macchiato was espresso and milk, but we found more in Sherman Cromwell’s stomach.”
The thought of digging around in a dead man’s organs churns my stomach, but I ask, “What?”
“A chocolate-covered strawberry.”
“Like Alec Whitaker sometimes gave Sherman Cromwell when he was in town to visit,” I say.
“Yes,” Quentin says.
“You know about that?” I ask.
“Sam did. She’s the one who told me.”
I nod. I guess he finally started questioning her about the case. I remember what Mr. Marcel, the chef at La Cena, said about foods that can absorb fish oil. “Then it’s possible Whitaker gave Mr. Cromwell the chocolate-covered strawberry laced with fish oil before he left town. That way Mr. Cromwell would die when Whitaker was already long gone.”
Quentin nods. “That’s what I’m thinking. It explains why no one saw Whitaker with Cromwell Monday morning. The plan was designed to kill Cromwell after Whitaker had made his escape.”
“I assume you’ll be bringing Whitaker in for questioning,” I say.
“You assume correctly.” He looks at his watch. “All right. I’m late for meeting Sam for dinner. You two head home. Good work today. It was really impressive how you figured out Gabe made the call to the bank, Jo.”
“Call me Sherlock Jolmes.” I shake my head. “Never mind. I heard how awful that was. Just forget I said it.” I turn and walk to Cam’s car.
“Worst joke ever, by the way,” Cam says, opening the car door for me.
“Blame my parents. Their cheesy sense of humor clearly got passed down to me. I’m an innocent victim of genetics.”
He laughs and shuts the car door. As I watch him walk around to the driver’s side, I remember when he lost his boyish looks and started to look like a man. I thought it was funny at first. But what’s funny is that I didn’t realize I’m attracted to him. Not that it matters. I wouldn’t ruin our friendship by making another comment about us. That had been awkward enough to last a lifetime.
He drives me home to find Mo waiting outside my door with Midnight in her lap.
“I sat down, and the next thing I knew, I had a lap warmer,” she tells us.
“Bring her in. I have some tuna in the fridge for her.” I open the door and toss the key on the counter after flicking on the lights.
“Hey, you’re home,” Jamar says, rushing into the apartment. “Is Lance in trouble? He texted me that the police were at his door, and I haven’t heard from him since.”
“He’s okay. They questioned him because Gabe Cromwell told the police Lance has an unregistered gun. Lance is cooperating, so I’m sure they’ll go easy on him.”
“I hope so. That guy has one string of bad luck after another.”
“As it turns out, he has more bad luck than you think.” I fill Mo and Jamar in while Cam and I throw together a warm pasta salad with chorizo sausage, red peppers, white beans, and gouda cheese.
“Why would Gabe bother to put a stop on the check?” Mo asks. “It’s not like his dad would turn around and give the money to him.”
“I guess it was a case of Gabe not wanting anyone to have his dad’s money if he couldn’t have it.”
“Petty,” Mo says. “I wish Mom and Dad would have bought me a house and car. I mean how greedy can you be?”
“I think Sherman was trying to find a balance between providing for his son and teaching his son to find his own way in the world,” I say. “Gabe just couldn’t see that.” I bring the bowl of pasta salad to the table, which Mo and Jamar have already set.
Cam starts serving us all. “Some parents do nothing for their children. Others do too much, and their kids wind up living with them well into their thirties. Then you have those who try to find the middle ground. I think Sherman, while still a millionaire and able to do more than the average parent, was trying to do just that. Like Jo said.” He turns and smiles at me. “You should have seen her today in that interrogation room. She figured out Gabe was lying and got him to confess.”
Mo looks back and forth between us. “Wow, Jo. Sounds like you impressed a few people today.”
“You can say that again. Quentin was shocked. He never would have gotten a confession out of Gabe without Jo.” Cam gently nudges my arm with his.
Mo smiles at me before sipping her iced tea.
Jamar and Cam leave after dinner, but Mo stays to help me with the dishes.
“I couldn’t help noticing the way Cam was looking at you today.”
I turn on the faucet and squirt dish soap onto the sponge. “Don’t even go there. Everyone keeps telling me that Cam is into me, but he made it perfectly clear he isn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“We were talking about Quentin and Sam and how Sam didn’t know Quentin was in love with her. And I asked Cam if he thought it was possible to love someone without them knowing.”
“And?”
“He said some people confuse close friendship for more.”
She raises a hand to her mouth. “He said that? In those exact words?”
“I don’t remember his exact words, but that was the gist of it.”
She turns off the water and grabs both of my wet hands. “You have feelings for him. You tried to come clean and tell him, didn’t you?”
I shrug. “It’s not a big deal. I didn’t even know I liked him until a few days ago. And nothing’s changed. We’re friends like we’ve always been. How upset can I really be?”
“As upset as you want to be. You’re entitled to your feelings, Jo.” She tilts her head to one side. “I’m so sorry. I really thought Cam was in love with you. Like not even just attracted to you or wanted to date you. I thought—”
“Yeah, I get it. I thought so too for a split second. But it’s fine. I have more important things to worry about. Tomorrow, Quentin is calling Alec Whitaker in for questioning. If he did give Sherman Cromwell a chocolate-covered strawberry that was soaked in fish oil, it would clear my name and allow me to get my life back. That’s all I care about right now.”
“You know, for someone who seems good at figuring out other people, you suck at figuring out your own life.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I drop the sponge in the sink.
“It means you ran away from your problem three years ago and came back here thinking everything would go back to normal, whatever that is, the moment you returned. These things take time. You and Cam had something at some point. I know you did. Maybe he’s worried about where you are right now. I don’t know. But I think if you put the effort into figuring it out, you might get the outcome you’re hoping for. Yet look at you. You’re giving up. Running away from Cam because it’s easier than facing your feelings head-on.”
“I’m not sure my little sister should be giving me advice on this. When was the last time you were even in a relationship?”
“What, I can’t give you advice because you’re two years older than I am? That’s ridiculous. And for your information, I dated the same guy for three months right before you came back to town. And before that, I had a boyfriend for almost eight months. I know I’m always going to be your little sister, but at some point you have to realize I’m not so little anymore.” She tosses the dish towel onto the counter. “See you tomorrow.” She walks out without another word.
“Meow,” Midnight says, licking her lips.
“Did you finish your tuna?” I pick up her bowl, which is now empty. “Okay, I guess you can have a little more.” I refill the bowl and put it down beside the refrigerator. “At least I know where I stand with you, Midnight.”
My phone rings, and Mo’s picture pops up on the screen. “Hi,” I answer.
“You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah. Love you, too.”
“Okay. I’m sorry if I misled you about Cam. I really think I’m right, though. I see the way he looks at you. Maybe he’s just as scared as you are to admit his feelings.”
“You want to know something? I hate that even though I’m older than you, you’ve always acted like the big sister. You handle things better than I do. It sort of makes me want to slap you sometimes.”
She laughs. “I think there was a compliment in there somewhere.”
“Yeah, sandwiched between hatred and a desire to slap you. I don’t hate you, though. I hate myself for not being as strong as you are.”
“Joanna Coffee, you are as strong as the coffee you brew. And we both know that’s strong.”
“Thanks, Mo. See you tomorrow.”
“Sorry for leaving you with all the dishes.”
“It’s okay. I kind of want to slap you for that too, though.”
She laughs again. “Night, Jo.”
I’m just finishing the dishes when there’s a knock on my door. I open it, expecting Jamar, but it’s Lance.
“Sorry to bother you, but I was just at Jamar’s, and he said you lived here.”
“It’s okay. I guess everything went okay at the station after I left.”
“I had to pay a fine. Detective Perry is cutting me a deal since I’m helping with a murder investigation. Otherwise, I could be looking at up to two years in jail. I’d lose the restaurant.”
“Lance, I’m sorry.” I lean my head on the door.
“It’s not your fault. It’s Gabe’s.” He shakes his head. “No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have taken the gun, but I swear it was just for protection. I told the police who gave it to me. They’re going to bring him in tomorrow if they can track him down.”
“Well, I hope it all works out.”
“Jamar said he’d try to get me a job at the gym here if I can’t pull off this restaurant without Mr. Cromwell.”
“Hey, don’t go giving up yet. Mr. Cromwell believed in you. I believe in you, too.”
“Thanks, Jo. I hope you find the person who killed him. I’m sorry it’s costing you money not having your coffee shop open.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve survived worse.” I replay that last sentence in my head and laugh. “Actually, no I haven’t. I was accused of murder. It doesn’t get much worse than that.”
“Why are you laughing about it?” Lance asks, and he starts laughing, too.
“Because up until now, I thought being cheated on and betrayed was the worst thing in the world. I was so wrong and so stupid.”
“Sometimes you need to go through some tough times to realize things aren’t as bad as you thought. Mr. Cromwell told me that.”
“He was a really smart man.”
“He was. My mom said the smartest thing he did was see the potential in me. She always says stuff like that. I’m lucky to have her. She’s smart, too. I guess I take after my dad more, because I don’t have her intelligence. She says that’s okay because I have her.”
“You have some good friends, too,” I say, nodding toward Jamar’s door.
“Yeah. Good night, Jo.”
“Good night, Lance.” I close the door and get into bed, exhausted after the long day. Seeing Lance made me realize how much some people have to deal with on a daily basis. I wish I’d known Sherman Cromwell better. He was able to see the potential in people and help them. I fall asleep and dream about chocolate-covered strawberries chasing macchiatos down Main Street.
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I’m in my car at 8:30 a.m. on my way to the bank. I have no money in my wallet, and my refrigerator is dangerously low on food. I don’t want to charge anything because I don’t want to start racking up bills. Until I can reopen for business, I have to spend as little as possible and just stick to the necessities.
My phone rings through the car’s Bluetooth, and an old picture of Quentin fills the screen on my dashboard. He’s making a face, and I’m kissing his cheek. I really need to delete that photo from his contact information. “I know I’m running late this morning. I overslept. Very weird dreams kept me up last night.”
“No problem. Alec Whitaker will be here at nine. I thought it would be good to have you in the interrogation room after what you pulled off yesterday with Gabe.”
“The words you’re looking for are ‘thank you.’”
“Thank you. Now if you could pull off some of that same magic on Whitaker so we can wrap up this case, I’d really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll do my best. Don’t expect miracles, though.”
“Okay. You on your way now?”
“Yeah, I just have to run to the bank first. Someone shut down my business, so funds are tight.”
Quentin clears his throat, and I can tell I’ve made him uncomfortable. “See you soon then.” No sooner does Quentin disconnect the call than my phone rings again. This time it’s Cam.
“Hey,” I answer. “I’m meeting Quentin at the station as soon as I’m finished at the bank.”
“It sounds like you’re in the car already. Is the bank even open yet?”
“No, but I’m just going to the ATM.”
“Oh, Jo, I didn’t even think that you might be strapped for cash with Cup of Jo being closed. Do you—?”
“I’m fine, Cam. Really. As long as I can open again soon, all will be good.” Having to pay utilities on a store I can’t work in sucks, but since I’m not there, I’m basically only paying to run the refrigeration system and heat. I should be all right.
“You always have the money Sherman Cromwell left you.”
“I don’t want to touch it. It just doesn’t feel right.” I pull into the bank parking lot and park in front of the door. “I’m going inside now. Talk to you soon.”
“I’ll meet you at the police station as soon as I finish the rest of my morning deliveries.”
“Bye, Cam.” I pocket my phone and grab my purse.
The bank isn’t open yet, but I’m not the only car in the parking lot, which means at least one of the workers must have come in early. I open the outside door that accesses the small booth for the ATM. I put in my card and enter my pin. I take a moment to debate how much to withdraw. I can make do on thirty dollars. I complete the transaction and put my money away when I see someone inside the bank. It’s Jill. She rushes over to unlock the door.
“I didn’t think the bank was open yet,” I say.
“It’s not, but I wanted to talk to you. We got a message from Sherman Cromwell’s financial adviser. He said he’d be sending over the checks for all the local business owners Mr. Cromwell left money to. I have to notify all the recipients so they can come get their checks.”
“Oh, I see.”
Another bank employee comes from a back office. “Joanna Coffee, right?” she asks me.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I’m Amanda Tunney.”
“Lance’s mom?” I ask.
“Yes, he told me what a help you were to him yesterday. I just had to come thank you in person when I saw you in here.” She waves me over. “Do you have a moment?”
“Um, actually, I have to get down to the police station.”
“You’re helping with the investigation into Sherman Cromwell’s death. I heard about that.” She purses her lips. “This will only take a second. I promise.” She waves me back again with a big smile.
“Okay.” I start toward her.
“Just be sure to stop in later today,” Jill says. “I’ll have that check for you.”
I nod and follow Amanda to an office in back.
“Oh, those checks. It really was a nice thing Mr. Cromwell did for the local businesses,” Amanda says.
“Yes, it was. He was very generous. You know, I was here yesterday with Detective Perry because we found out that Sherman Cromwell tried to put a stop on a check, but the bank cashed it anyway.” I step into the office, and she shuts the door behind me.
“Really? How odd. How do you know he tried to stop payment on a check?”
“His son told us. Actually, it was his son who called pretending to be his father. He’s facing charges for false impersonation.”
Her eyes narrow. “Then Mr. Cromwell never tried to stop the check?”
“No, so I’m glad Lance wound up getting his money anyway. However that happened.”
The phone rings on Amanda’s desk. “Do you need to get that?”
“No, we aren’t open yet. It can go to the answering system.”
“Do all the calls come in here?” I ask. Realization dawns on me before she can even respond. “You answer the phones.”
She gets up, walks to her purse, and pulls out a gun. “You shouldn’t have gotten involved in this case, Jo.”