her knowledge, but with a computer, help, and a need to find answers – she’d push forward. If anything, Rosemary Sage was determined.
If only one man died, or if he was older, they would have easily signed off on cardiac arrest and nothing would have been discovered. Only, the county pushed for more information due to the nature of the situation. Toxicology reports were expensive, and with budgets stretched it was rare they ran them unless necessary. In this case, they deemed it necessary. Rosie wasn’t privy to the details, and the police weren’t ready to give out too much information.
When Libby rolled out of bed, she padded down to the kitchen in her white, fluffy robe and slippers. Her hair was wild and messy, like a field of untamed weeds. “I need coffee,” she grumbled and found her way to the cabinet to pull a mug down.
“You slept in,” Rosie greeted.
“Well, with the restaurant closed, I thought I’d take advantage. We better not stay closed too long; it’s going to kill our budget. No pun intended.” She shuffled to the coffee pot and tossed a pod in. The machine hissed on and the brew slowly bubbled out. Libby leaned against the old Formica countertop waiting on her morning coffee.
“I called and got a bit of information. They think the men were poisoned.” Rosie’s face couldn’t hide her worry. She was still coming to terms with the fact that a customer died in her restaurant. She didn’t know how, or by what means other than a type of poison, and had no idea how the two men were related -- but apparently they were. They’d need to track down the connection.
After the machine turned off, Libby inhaled the coffee’s aroma and took a small sip from her mug. “Well, coffee and a bagel was all the guy consumed. We obviously didn’t do it, and I can’t see the bagel company having a reason, not knowing who would get what bagel. As for the coffee, I drank a cup myself and was fine. So where does that leave us?”
“Lost,” Rosie said as she dropped her head onto the kitchen table.
“Good morning, Dash,” Libby said, as the cat came to greet her.
"Mew." Dash circled the kitchen and then stopped to take a drink.
“They’re going to think I did it, but why would I? And I had nothing to do with the other guy in the other restaurant either. So the question becomes, why were they killed and who did it? Also, how am I going to buy time? Who do you think they’ll blame?” Rosie was in limbo between fear and frustration.
“I’ll call John and see if he has any information,” Libby offered.
“Oh, speaking of John Patterson, I dreamt the weirdest dream last night! I dreamt that you two were a couple, or used to be. You were breaking me out of prison, and you hesitated before helping him.”
“Would serve him right,” she said with a smirk. “Huh, imagine that.”
Rosie studied her mom’s face. Maybe it was the tone of her voice, the lack of surprise, or even amusement that left Rosie wondering how well her mother knew the man.
Libby offered no more clues. “I’m going to get cleaned up. Would you care to join me for breakfast over at Patterson’s Family Restaurant?”
“Do you think they’re still open?”
“As arrogant as that man can be, of course. He’ll feel like the world would collapse if people couldn’t come eat at his place.” She laughed at her own comment.
Rosie stood and stretched. “Yeah, sure, I’ll go if they’re open. Why not? We can talk to him and see if there’s a reason he thinks those two particular men were culled from the herd. In fact, I’m going to see if I can track down anything else about them online while you shower.”
Libby agreed it was a good idea. “Oh, ignore my latest post on Facebook if you happen across it.”
“Oh, fudge. What did you write now?” Her mother’s habit of stirring the pot was growing old. She was too quick to judge a situation and it was rare to keep her mouth shut.
“What? Why would you say