Department Rivals (Valor and Doyle) by Nicky James

Author:Nicky James [James, Nicky]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-07-14T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter six

Aslan

Little Java Bean had the standard look of a small-time, independent coffeehouse. Scattered bookshelves, soft music, fancy displays, and young, college-age baristas who were too busy with their noses in their phones to serve customers in a timely manner. It smelled heavenly, like coffee and cinnamon. My stomach growled.

Quaid grabbed an empty paper takeout cup someone had left behind on a nearby table. He spun it around so the logo faced us. “This is it. It’s the same style cup.”

“So now what?”

We both glanced around. None of the customers were out-of-place men in trench coats.

“Do we order something?” I wondered out loud.

“Maybe. But how will whoever has our next clue know who we are?”

“Mr. Trench Coat said we needed to say keywords.”

Neither of us moved.

“I’d kill for a coffee right now,” Quaid said.

“You’re speaking my language.”

We moved to the end of the line, continuously glancing around like the next clue would pop out from a hidden corner. What the hell were we supposed to do now? Wait?

There was no recognition on the pimply-faced barista when we placed our order. He returned with our coffees, and I tapped my card, paying for them both.

“I can pay for my coffee,” Quaid said, digging change from a pocket.

“Forget it. My treat.”

We found a vacant table and sat, both on edge, both unsure what to do next.

Quaid removed the lid from his cup. It belched steam, and he blew across the top before taking a tentative sip. “Something’s wrong. We’re supposed to do something.”

“But what?”

“Okay, so, the puzzle sent us here. Why?”

“Because the contents of the cup were likely what killed the woman.”

“Agreed.”

“Who poisoned her?”

Quaid’s brow furrowed, and he ran his tongue along his upper lip in an unconscious manner like he was thinking hard. It was impossible not to stare.

“I think… whoever bought her the coffee poisoned her.”

I blinked out of the trance of following Quaid’s tongue and met his eyes. “What?”

“If she’d bought her own coffee, then it would have been harder for another person to find time to spike it.”

“Okay. Maybe she came with someone. They both bought coffee. The perp spiked one cup and somehow found a second when she wasn’t looking to switch them.”

“Another possibility.”

I looked around the crowded coffeehouse. “Where the fuck is Trench Coat?”

Quaid’s face brightened. “Oh! I get it now.” He dug through the envelope and withdrew the headshot of the woman. “If we were investigating, we’d be asking the people working if they had seen this woman and if she was with anyone. We might ask to view video surveillance, right? The email said people in the community would help us along. Wait here.”

Quaid jumped up and got in line again.

It was hard not to stare at his bubble ass, so I didn’t bother trying and looked my fill. If he caught me, so what? My mind drifted to the gutter, and I wondered what Mr. Uptight Anal Retentive would look like after a good orgasm. He held such stringent control over himself, it would be interesting to take it away and make him whine and beg for release.

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