Fresh Brewed Murder by Emmeline Duncan

Fresh Brewed Murder by Emmeline Duncan

Author:Emmeline Duncan [Duncan, Emmeline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2020-12-11T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 15

On Sunday afternoon, I’d arranged to meet Zarek at a café a short walk from the stadium. I left my bike in the storage room of the Tav and strolled to the meeting spot along with a handful of fans also dressed in green jerseys. Although I’d left my official Timbers Army scarf at home, unlike most of the supporters I saw, who didn’t let the eighty-five-degree weather stop them from wearing scratchy acrylic around their necks.

The café advertised vegan fare, like açai bowls, along with coffee and fresh smoothies. I could see Zarek opening a similar restaurant, although something told me nothing here matched his falafel or cart-made sauces.

Zarek texted he was running late, so I ordered a smoothie with almond butter and strawberries and grabbed a spot by the window. The smoothie was sweet with a nutty backing.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Zarek said. “Foster is covering my cart, and he was running behind.”

“No worries.” We had forty minutes to game time.

Zarek went to order a smoothie, and I watched a woman pushing a shopping cart filled with a hodgepodge of boxes and recyclables wander past.

“You’d think the city would figure out a solution.” Zarek slid into the seat next to me. His eyes watched the woman with the shopping cart.

“Maybe someday. Hopefully soon.”

“Cheers to that. We need better housing options. I’m always afraid I’m going to face a rent increase and end up on the street myself.”

As we talked, my eyes strayed to the two teens who’d set up shop next door. The office was closed for the weekend. One teen held a fishing line with a bucket on the end.

“We should walk to the stadium,” Zarek said after checking his watch. We threw away our now-empty cups. As we left, I read the sign on the teen’s fishing pole: ANGLING FOR CHANGE.

At least he’s creative. My heart felt heavy as we walked down the street. A flash of brown hair caught my eye, but my pulse relaxed. It wasn’t Gabby, although the girl hustling down the sidewalk was about the same height.

I needed to stop jumping at shadows and enjoy the game.

* * *

We joined the mass of bodies streaming out of the stadium after the Timbers and New York drew 2–2.

“I can’t fully embrace sports that don’t have a winner each game. I know it’s a soccer thing, but it drove me crazy when I played when we drew when I wanted to win,” Zarek said.

“Draws are beautiful. It adds a layer of complexity to the strategy of the game while adding meaning to each match throughout the season.”

“True. But I find it annoying.” Zarek laughed. He grabbed my hand as we exited the stadium and weaved through a sheer mass of bodies. I wondered if this is how salmon feel when swimming upstream each year on their way to their deaths.

Once we crossed the street a block from the stadium, the crowd thinned out.

“Do you have plans for the rest of the day?”

“My bicycle is safely stowed in a bar in the Pearl District.



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