More Poison in Your Coffee?

Chapter 6

The next day I was cooling my heels in my office while Detective Juarez and his crime lab were combing over every square inch of Taste Teas looking for evidence. Speaking of the detective, he was looking mucho sexy today. So much so that while I was pouring over the budget my mind began to wonder toward our inevitable future together.

Mrs. Manuel Juarez

Mrs. Evelyn Harper-Juarez

Mrs. Manny Juarez

Manny, I like it. One thing I didn't like though was this budget. It was costing me money to keep the shop closed. I only hoped it wouldn't be too much longer. The deposit from Bo would keep us open a few days but it wasn't enough to make back the revenue I would lose if we stayed closed a whole week.

I scoffed and slammed the notebook shut. There are three things you don't mess with: my family (friends are included under the umbrella of protection), my man (if I wasn't a pathetic spinster), and my goddamn money. So far Manny the straitlaced detective had upset two of those things. Like hell I was going to sit around and let him continue his prosecution of Jackson when the real killer was out there. Not without a fight.

I grabbed my keys and headed to the front door. The CSI squad had about four guys spread out checking for clues. For the most part of the day they'd come up empty. Only finding the remainder of the cake still sitting on the shelf in the fridge, but they were persistent. I had one foot out the door when I heard:

"Where you off too?" It was Detective Hotty Pants.

"Out." I said defiantly. He was already nose deep in most of my business, he'd didn't need to know everything about me.

"I assume you aren't leaving town?"

"And I assume I can trust your guys not to steal anything while I'm gone." I gestured around. Just because they're cops doesn't mean they're trustworthy.

He was not amused. "Just don't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong okay."

"I wouldn't dream." I turned on my heel. "Later, Manny."

"Detective Juarez." I guess it's too soon in the relationship for pet names.

"Right, Detective."

On the upper west side, in the part of town known as Queens Dock, I slowly pulled my car up to an intercom that was connected to a large brick fence in front of the address I'd gotten. The cast iron gate was awe inspiring. The house was an old Georgian Colonial covered with old brick and white painted wood columns. The place must have had at least twenty bedrooms in it, if I'm giving a rough estimate. News anchors make a lot more than I thought.

Since Detective Juarez was busy trying to frame my cousin for murder, I figured I'd just catch the murderer myself. It wasn't going to be easy though since only about one out of every three people on the planet Earth wanted Bo dead. My grandma Sophie always says 'the best place to start is in your own backyard', so I'd driven the hour long drive to get to the Conway's to see what I could pull out of his wife.

I rolled the window down and stretched my arm to reach the silver call button on the intercom. After a while a woman's voice came on the line.

"Yes?"

"Evelyn Harper, I'm a friend of Mrs. Conway's."

"She no want visitors."

"Tell her it's her sister." That was a huge lie and frankly I don't even know if she has a sister, but I didn't think she'd let me in if she knew it was me.

I thought I would get caught for sure but after another minute or two the gate cranked to life, and I pulled Douglas up the circle driveway so I could have a heart to heart with Karalyn Conway.