Coffee, Cream Pies, and Crimes by Haper Lin

Author:Haper Lin
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter 16

“All right, Francesca, I’m Detective Mulholland. Could you state your full name and address for me?”

The critical detective—Detective Mulholland—had led me back to the green room. I restrained myself from going straight for my phone but only barely. Detective Mulholland instructed me to sit on the couch. He took an armchair he’d apparently relocated to the middle of the room. The oblivious detective, still nameless, was already seated on the far side of the room with his elbow propped on the end table, fiddling with a rubber band.

“Francesca Antonia Amaro, 231 Bay Street, Cape Bay, Massachusetts.”

The oblivious detective’s head snapped up. “Cape Bay?”

I nodded.

“You know Mike Stanton, by any chance?”

I nodded again.

“Does he know you?”

I smiled. “Yes, he does. We grew up together. And he comes into my café pretty much every day.”

That was actually an understatement. Mike came in at least once a day to get a black coffee that he drank scalding hot. I didn’t know how he did it—it was painful just to watch. I also chose not to mention that I had helped Mike solve more than one murder case recently. Well, “helped solve” might not be the words Mike would choose. “Interfered with” would probably be how he described it.

Detective Mulholland waited to see if Oblivious Detective had anything else to say, but he had already gone back to staring blankly at the carpet and playing with his rubber band. Now I knew he wasn’t completely oblivious. Some part of him was listening at least a little.

“Okay, Francesca, how about you tell us what happened today?”

I didn’t like the look on Detective Mulholland’s face. It seemed somehow accusatory, like he suspected me of being involved in more than just calling for help. I set my jaw and told him what had happened—the long delay, being worried about Kaitlin, going to look for her, finding Jeremy Johnson’s body. I didn’t volunteer how critical he’d been of Kaitlin or that I’d heard him and Veronica Browning arguing. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t share those details—maybe it felt too much like I was pointing fingers, maybe I was afraid to point the detectives at someone I liked, or maybe I just didn’t like the look on Detective Mulholland’s face. Whatever the reason, I left that information out, even though I knew that had Mike Stanton been the detective on the case, he would have been furious with me for it. Come to think of it, maybe that was the reason I was leaving it out—these detectives weren’t Mike, and I didn’t know them like I knew him. I trusted Mike to be fair, but Critical and Oblivious here were unknown quantities. I wasn’t willing to point the finger at someone potentially innocent when I wasn’t sure that they were going to do their jobs properly.

“Anything else you want to tell us?” Mulholland asked.

For a second, I thought he knew I hadn’t been completely forthcoming, but then I realized that it was probably just a standard question.

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