Caffeine & Killers (A Roasted Love Cozy Mystery Book 3) Read Free Page A

"Between his brother being in
prison for drugs and everything he's seen on the streets, John never
touched drugs of any kind. I'm just sure he never did. And I know you
see all kinds of stuff while you're at work, but I can tell you one
thing: This time, you're wrong about John."
    Daniel gave me a tolerant smile, though the look
in his eyes told me he thought I was a little naïve. "Look, I
know you felt sorry for the old guy. But it doesn't matter, anyway.
It'll all come out when the toxicology reports come in."
    "We have plenty of customers who saw John
almost every day in the coffeehouse." I wasn't giving up.
"They'll tell you the same thing about him – that he was not
on drugs. He told great stories every day. He made perfect sense. He
wasn't high, or out of it."
    "Okay, Laila, but let me ask you a question:
Why would this guy John overdose on heroin if he wasn’t an addict?"
    "That’s just it," I insisted. "I
don't think he overdosed on anything – at least, not by choice.
Someone did this to him." I looked up at Daniel and said it
again. "Someone did this to him."
    "So – are you calling this a murder?"
    Slowly, I nodded my head. "Yeah. I guess I
am. Look – all I know is that John didn’t inject himself with
heroin. His death was staged to make him look like he was an addict.
Someone wanted to get rid of him for a reason."
    "But who would go to that much trouble over a
harmless old guy like him?" asked Daniel. "Do you think he
was dealing, and some other dealer wanted him out of the way?"
    "No. I don't think he was dealing. He wasn't
the type, like I said."
    Daniel picked up another forkful of chicken and
green pepper. "Yeah, you're probably right. If nothing else, he
would have had some money if he'd been selling the stuff."
    My thoughts turned to one particular man who was
determined to get rid of the homeless in West River – but then I
stopped myself. Surely someone in local power wouldn’t stoop to
murdering one homeless person at a time to reach his goal.
    Would he?
    I found I didn't quite have the nerve to put that
thought into words. At least, not yet.
    Instead, I had tears burning my eyes. I was going
to miss John. I wished I'd known his last name. I knew very little
about him except that he had one brother, Steven, who was in prison
for attempting to sell cocaine. I wondered how Steven would take the
news of his brother's death. From what John had told me, there had
been a close connection between them – at least at one time.
    We finished our dinner, with Daniel wolfing his
down and me just nibbling at my food. Finally I got up and cleared
the dishes from the table, and started rinsing them off.
    Daniel placed his hand on my arm. "Hey, don't
worry about that right now. Let’s take the dogs for a walk. We all
need some fresh air. Come on."
    He was right. A walk in the cool evening air
sounded good. But it was hard to forget the death of a man when I
felt certain he'd been murdered.
    Once we were out on the sidewalk with the dogs, I
turned to Daniel again. "Okay. You know that I think somebody
murdered John. And if I'm going to prove that, then the first step
would be to prove that he was not an addict."
    Daniel shook his head, watching Benji run around
at the end of his leash. "I'm not sure how you can do that.
That's a very serious charge you're making."
    I pulled hard on Thor's leash, trying to keep him
away from the cars parked on the street. "Yeah. It is. And I
doubt that anyone will take it seriously. The homeless don’t matter
to most people. But I have to try – for John."
    He placed his free arm around my shoulders. "All
right, Laila. I guess I know your next request."
    I couldn't help grinning a little. "We both
know you've got inside friends, Daniel. I want to see a copy of that
autopsy report. There has to be one for John, even though he was
homeless – right?"
    Daniel sighed, and reached over to help me with my
Doberman's leash. "Yes, that's right. Any questionable or
unattended