A Cup of Murder

This is book one of a three book series. While I endeavored to make it possible to enjoy each book on its own merits, I believe the books will be most enjoyed by reading them in the following order.

I sat at one of the dozen small tables in the shop, lazily reading my physiology textbook and taking notes. Coffee w/ Cream was always slow from about ten, and the part-time help Mom had hired to aid with the morning rush had already left for the day. That left me to handle the shop alone until Mom came back about four to help with the small evening surge. Our little shop's traffic, if charted, would look like a bathtub. Super busy in the morning when all the downtown lawyers, accountants, and office workers needed their caffeine fix, dead in the late morning and afternoon, and then busier in the evening. Summers could sometimes make the evenings crazy, but Mom and I could normally handle it ourselves.

It had been an amazing four years since Mom had gotten a business loan and sunk everything we had and could borrow into opening Coffee w/ Cream, a coffee and ice cream shop in the heart of downtown Pokagon, Michigan. I was incredibly proud of her. She'd gone from waitressing to business owner, and while we weren't getting rich, we were doing okay. So much so, I was in my sophomore year of college as I worked toward my goal of becoming a nurse... something I hadn't thought possible when starting high school.

Winters in Michigan sold coffee and summers sold ice cream. During summer we had plenty of out-of-towners visiting Lake Pokagon, and we picked up a lot of business from them. We also sold cookies and pastries, to go with the coffee, that we purchased fresh every day from a woman that made them in her home. Someday, maybe, we could add 'bakery' to our list of services, but until then, coffee and ice cream was it.

After Mom had signed the loan for the building, we'd painted, scrubbed, and washed windows until the place very nearly sparkled to make our shop as clean and welcoming as possible. She'd been lucky enough to be able to buy an end unit, and after she'd cajoled the other tenets in the building that shared the parking area to allow us to route drive-thru traffic through the lot at the back of the building, she'd hired a contractor to remove curbs, repaint the parking lot, and knock a hole in the wall for a drive-thru. The street front windows let in plenty of light, and the new faux wood floors and muted pastels made the space welcoming. I knew I was biased, but of the ten connected buildings that formed the block, I thought ours looked the best.

Our shop was in one of the two remaining downtown buildings that hadn't been renovated, which was lucky for us, because the fact the building was tired was the only reason Mom could afford to buy our piece of it. The building had a second floor, but the rooms above ours were vacant and full of dust and spiderwebs. We had plans to refurbish the area and rent the space, but we weren't financially able to consider it... yet. With professionals buying up the buildings to the north, and the retail businesses to the south, we were located in the two blocks of unrenovated buildings that separated them.

"Don't forget the Duncan and Long party," Aunt Vicki said as Aunt Liz stood by the door, clearly trying to control her impatience.

I smiled as I lost focus on my studies. Victoria and Elizabeth Tramree were mom's two crazy sisters. Not crazy as insane, but crazy as in you never knew what they were going to do next. They were unmarried, lived together, and it was rare to see one without the other. They owned Tramree Resort, a small but well-regarded summer hideaway on Lake Pokagon that was booked solid for two or more years into the future.

"I won't," Mom said, accepting Vicki's hug. "One quarter-sheet ice cream cake with 'Congratulations on 43 years,' written on top... right?"

Vicki smiled. "That's it. Just don't forget. Someone will be around to pick it up on the first, and it's already paid for."

"I remember," Mom said.

"Vicki! Leave her alone. She's been running the place for four years just fine without your help. Let's go... before we miss our flight!" Aunt Liz urged.

"Coming! Coming!" Vicki moved to me and I stood to accept my hug. "Take care, Kiddo. See you in six months. Love you."

"Love you too," I murmured. I moved to Liz and pulled her into a hug. "Be safe."

"We will. Take care of your mother," she murmured into my ear.

"I will."

Vicki and Liz hugged Mom, and then they were gone in a woosh of red curls, their Uber waiting for them at the curb.

"Whew!" Mom said with a smile, her voice full of teasing fatigue. "I love my sisters, but I'm not sure I could take them being around all year." I snickered. "You got it?"

"Sure. Go. Get some rest."

She yawned. "Okay. Call if you need anything."

"I will, but I won't."

She pulled me into a hug. "How did I get so lucky to have you as a daughter?"

I smiled as I felt her love surround me like a comforting blanket. Mom hadn't had it easy since Dad died, and there'd been some hard times, but I'd never doubted her love for me.

"Runs in the family," I murmured in return.

"Love you," she said as she released me.

"Love you too."

Mom hadn't been gone fifteen minutes when the door opened, the cold air rushing in catching my attention. I looked up, expecting a customer.

"I brought lunch!" Keiko Johnson sang as she came through the door.

So much for studying, but I couldn't stop my smile. Keiko and I had been best of friends for the past ten or twelve years. She was a year older than me, but that hadn't mattered to either of us.

"Your aunts gone?"

"Yep. Left a half-hour or so ago."

"Where are they going this year?"

"The Bahamas.'

"I wish I could take a six-month vacation every year," she said as she placed sandwiches, drinks, and bagged chips on the table. I closed my book, using my notepad as a bookmark.

"Yeah, me too. Maybe someday."

"I don't know why you don't go with them."

I stared at her with wide-eyed amusement. "Well, let me see," I said as I began counting on my fingers. "College... Coffee with Cream... money..."

"I think you should sneak yourself into their luggage," Keiko said while opening her chip bag. "What are they going to do? All they can do is send you back, but at least you'd have a couple of days in the Bahamas before they do."

I grinned as I pretended to think about it. "Hmmm" I hummed. "Flying first class with my aunts... or riding in the baggage hold... tough choice."

"True. What I don't understand is, if your aunts hate the cold that much, why are they living in Michigan?"

"Because it's home, I guess. Our family's been here for generations."

"Whatever. I guess if you have the money to go the Bahama's, Haiti, Italy, wherever, from October until March, Michigan winters don't matter. It's too bad you can't go. You and your mom both."

"Someday," I said softly.

"Hey," Keiko said, clearly changing the subject, "Ken's home for fall break and is having a party tonight at his house. Want to go?"

"Can't." I gestured to the book on the other table. "I have finals coming up."

It wasn't that I didn't want to go, because I did, but... life. I had to keep my grades up or risk losing what little scholarship money I did get, it wouldn't be fair to Mom to bomb a course and make her pay for it again, and I didn't want to waste my own money for the same reason... plus, it'd be awkward. I hadn't spoken more than ten words to Ken since summer when we decided it wasn't working between us. He wanted more from me than I could give him, and while we'd parted on good terms, going to a party he was throwing was a little much.

I suspected that Keiko wanted to go mostly to remind him she was here. Ken Mazerin, myself, and Keiko had been friends since Junior High, and now that Ken and I were no longer an item, I suspected he and Keiko might start dating this summer when he returned to Pokagon from college... assuming he didn't find another girlfriend while in Lansing.

What I really wanted was to go on vacation. I wanted Mom and me, or maybe Mom, her sisters, and me, to all go someplace warm and sunny. I wasn't greedy. It didn't have to be for six months, like my aunts. A week. That's all I wanted. A week with no deadlines and no responsibilities.

During the summer, even without a full load of college courses, I couldn't even think, much less have fun. With all the tourists, the shop ran both me and Mom to exhaustion. Five a.m. until nine p.m. were long days, and while the shop still experienced the lull in the middle of the day, there was a steady trickle of customers, drawn to the area by the restaurants and shopping. Plus, I'd taken a couple of summer courses, skipping out for a couple of hours in the afternoon to try to get ahead so I could graduate early. It was why Ken and I hadn't worked. He wanted to do things with me... but I had so little time to give him.

Two more years, I thought to myself. Just two more years, then I'll graduate. Mom won't have to help pay for my college and she can hire more help, I'll have a real job making real money, and then I can do all the things that--

Keiko throwing a chip at me pulled me back to the present. The crisp fried potato wafer bounced off my chest and fell into my lap. I picked it up and popped it into my mouth.

"You're such a party pooper," she said, her small smile belying her harsh tone. "Seriously, you should take off for a week as soon as your aunts get back. And why doesn't your mom hire more help? Then you both could take a vacation."

"I wish she could."

I took another bite from my sandwich. Pokagon Deli, the giant stylized P and D in their name causing the locals to refer to it as the PD, made the best sandwiches in town, and they were always packed at lunch. It was too bad that PD's was on the other side of town. Mom had tried to find a vacant shop to rent in the same area, but nothing was available. Even if we'd found a location, the payments would have placed the area far out of our reach, but having such a popular restaurant next door would have helped drive business.

Keiko tapped a manicured fingernail on the table. "You know, I need help deciding what dress to buy for my cousin's wedding. Why don't you come shopping with me? We could do it on a Monday. That's your slow day, right?"

"Yeah..." I said sluggishly, trying to recall if anything was happening at the nearby convention center in the next few weeks that could cause us to be busy. "We'd have to do it after the morning rush."

"Of course. Nobody but you opens at five anyway. Surely they can get along without you for a couple of hours... or you could just close."

I considered it. There were plenty of days when I was literally the only person in the shop from noonish until four or five. If Mom didn't want to pay Sam or Karen to stay, or didn't want to stay herself... maybe I could close for a couple of hours.

"Maybe. Let me talk to Mom and see what she says," I said as I took another bite out of my sandwich.

As I began to chew, I groaned inwardly as a burly, grizzled man quickly walked past the floor to ceiling windows that fronted our shop, his shoulders hunched against the weather. It never failed. It seemed no matter when I took my lunch, that was when a customer arrived. I began chewing as fast as I could. Before I could swallow the door swung open.

"Be with you in a moment," I mumbled around the sandwich as I pushed back from the table.

"Is that what your mom's paying you for? Sitting around eating?" Ed Griffin, our grouchy business neighbor, asked. "Did your ice cream come in? I wanted some pistachio a couple days ago, but you were out. Cathy said to come back today, after you received your shipment."

"Came in this morning," I said as I dusted crumbs from my jeans. "One scoop or two?"

Mr. Griffin was our best customer. He stopped in nearly every weekday... sometimes in the morning for coffee, sometimes in the afternoon for an ice cream, and sometimes for both. He got along pretty well with Mom, but he was always a grouchy old bear with me. I couldn't figure out what he had against me, but I couldn't tell him to shove his attitude because it'd make Mom mad... and he was our best customer.

"One scoop... and pack it tight, I want my money's worth."

Of course you do, I thought to myself. It wouldn't surprise me if he took the cone back to his shop and weighed it each time too.

Mr. Griffin owned the watch and clock repair shop next door, The Clock Doc. We were never late for anything because, with our shared wall, we could easily hear all his clocks binging and bonging away on the quarter-hours.

"Coming right up," I said with my best smile and Ms. Friendly voice. "It's not out yet, but we received another container of your favorite," I said as I dipped. "Cherry Chocolate Chip."

"About time," he grumbled, "but they never put enough cherries in it."

I forced myself not to smile as Keiko rolled her eyes. She began clearing the table, leaving behind the last bite of my sandwich and my half-eaten bag of chips. "I've got to go. Let me know when you want to go all Thelma and Louise and we'll ditch this popsicle stand, even if we can't drive to the Bahamas."

"Count on it," I said with a smile as I handed Mr. Griffin his cone and took the bills from his fingers.

I downed another Monster energy drink, hoping it would help keep me awake. I stared at my physiology book as my vision blurred, and I wondered if there was any money in changing my major from nursing to professional TV watcher. None of the terms were sticking with me tonight: acanthocytosis, alpha-thalassemia, hereditary pyro poikilocytosis, reticulosis, and a dozen others that I could barely pronounce, much less remember for my upcoming exam. I knew it was tiredness, but I wanted to get through the chapter tonight before going to bed. If I didn't, I knew I'd lay awake and fret that I should be studying... so I might as well study.

My bedroom was too small for a regular desk, so I moved my lap desk off my legs before rising from my bed. Groaning, I stretched before turning to look out of my bedroom window. Living in a mobile home had its advantages and disadvantages. The advantage was it was cheap to purchase. That was it, but at least it was ours. One day, probably when I was out on my own, Mom could sell the tired old trailer to some other needy family and move into a real house in a nicer neighborhood.

The disadvantages outweighed the lone advantage by a wide margin. The home creaked and rumbled in the wind, and it was always too cold or too hot, depending on the season. Our neighbors were just as cash strapped as Mom and I were. No trips to the Bahamas for them either, and they had to find entertainment where they could, which often involved loud parties and drinking.

The mobile homes were parked close together in pairs with a gravel parking pad on each side of the pair. From my window, I had the amazing view of the shared parking area. On the other side of the pad, someone was standing outside, huddled close to the steel sides of the home in the dark and sleety weather. They were vaping, the smoke briefly visible as it passed in front of the lighted window. Maybe they were waiting for someone? At two a.m.? Right... Maybe they were a vampire... Maybe the latest boyfriend had gone outside to get away from her for a few minutes. I smiled. That was probably the closest to correct explanation. I spoke to the woman who owned or rented the home that shared our parking area as little as possible because she always seemed like she was in a bad mood, and I'd heard more than one screaming match between her and her boyfriend du jour.

I hauled my attention away from the man and back to my desk. Enough with the nosy neighbor routine. I needed to make sure I'd memorize all the blood-born pathogens that we'd been warned would be on the final. I turned back to my bed where I settled my desk over my legs and propped my head up with elbows on the desk. I yawned and started reading my notes.

I jerked awake and stared at the blood coating my palm. I didn't know where the blood came from. Blinking, I tried to wipe the blood off on my pants, but the stain remained. All around me voices whispered words or phrases I couldn't make out. How had I gotten back to the shop? I couldn't breathe! So much blood! I had to get home! Panicking, I turned and bolted for the door, but I tripped over a table and fell, tumbling through a hole in the shop's floor.

I was screaming when I landed with a splash in some viscous liquid that smelled metallic. Oh my God! It's blood! My arms were heavy as I flailed in the sticky liquid. I was drowning! I tried to reach the floor above me so I could pull myself out, but it was just beyond my fingertips.

I was so tired!

I was going to drown!

What was this place?

How had we never found the cistern before?

My stomach roiling with disgust, I ducked under the surface and then launched myself upwards as hard as I could. Gasping, I seized the edge of the vinyl tile and hauled myself up until I had my elbows on the floor. Panting, I rested a moment before dragging myself the rest of the way out of the hole, rolling to my back as my chest heaved. My arms still burning from the effort of pulling myself out of the... whatever that was down there, I struggled to my feet.

I slipped in the blood that covered the fake wood floor and fell to my knees. I coughed out a sob. The walls! The walls were spattered with blood! One of the pictures on the walls, the one showing a happy family with balloons and eating ice cream, was broken and shards of glass were scattered across the floor.

Mom! Where was Mom? I struggled to my feet again, my sneakers sliding in the gore. I looked around, desperately searching for Mom, but all I saw was blood. My heart slamming in my chest, I screamed.

I lurched upright, clutching my pajamas and panting. I was drenched with sweat, and my face hurt. The ruddy glow of sunrise painted my window as I took deep breaths to calm my racing heart. My face twisting with discomfort, I ran my finger along the crease on my cheek where I'd been sleeping on a pencil. Farther up, on my forehead, I felt the spiral indentions from the notebook's binding. I ran my hand over the rest of my face, searching for more hurts. I ached everywhere as my body began reminding me that hours hunched over my desk, sleeping on a notebook, was a bad idea.

Groaning with discomfort, my eyelids feeling like they were glued shut and didn't want to open all the way, I shoved my desk aside before slumping farther down in the bed. After waiting a moment to determine if I was actually going to die, and realizing I wasn't, I staggered to my feet, turning over my desk and spilling my book, notebook, and pencils while doing so. I stretched with a deep groan. Normally, stretching felt good, but not this morning. Gasping and grunting, I bent forward and sideways, waiting out the pain as muscles seized and tried to twist me into a human pretzel. I felt like I'd run a marathon... no, a triathlon... and then competed in a weightlifting competition.

I limped down the hall to the shared bath. Mom was already gone. I stood under the shower for a long time, long enough for the water to start running cool. To add to my misery, I hadn't even started cleaning myself yet, and had to finish my shower with cold water.