Cappuccinos and Corpses (Cup of Jo 2) Read online

  Cappuccinos and Corpses

  Cup of Jo Book 2

  Kelly Hashway

  Copyright © 2020 Kelly Hashway

  All rights reserved.

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  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual places or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, copied, or recorded without written permission from the author.

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  The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks mentioned in this book. Trademarks are not sponsored or endorsed by the trademark owners.

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  Cover design ©Red Umbrella Graphic Designs

  To Ayla with love

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Also by USA Today Bestselling Author Kelly Hashway

  Writing as USA Today Bestselling Author Ashelyn Drake

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Not everyone gets a chance to start over in the place where they grew up, but I definitely have. And while it’s a little weird being back in Bennett Falls and dealing with my ex, Detective Quentin Perry, and his fiancée, Samantha Shaw, whom I used to call my best friend, I can’t complain too much. My coffee shop, Cup of Jo, has been up and running for one month, and it’s been going surprisingly well—even after I stopped carrying baked goods made by my boyfriend, Camden Turner. Cam opened up his own bakery right next door to Cup of Jo and named it Cam’s Kitchen. I helped him decorate and get the place ready, and now it’s his turn to have a grand opening.

  Since I’m not selling Cam’s baked goods anymore, I’m selling chocolates. Coffee and chocolates—seriously, does it get any better than that? I bought an insane amount of chocolate molds, and I melt and remold the chocolates myself. It couldn’t be easier, and they’re a huge hit.

  So, I have no complaints when I walk into work Monday morning to start another week.

  My younger sister, Maura, or Mo as everyone calls her, comes walking into Cup of Jo the second I unlock the doors.

  “Coffee. Now. Didn’t sleep. Just inject it straight into my veins, please.” She pulls up the sleeve of her sweater to expose her arm.

  “Stop it. You hate needles. Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

  “No sleep.” She slumps into a chair at one of the tables, places her arms out as a pillow, and lowers her head onto them.

  “Why didn’t you sleep?” I ask, setting up my coffee machines for the day.

  “Lance.”

  Despite having grown up with nothing after his father left him and his mother penniless, Lance Tunney is opening up an upscale restaurant this Friday. He happens to be a good friend of my neighbor Jamar, and I also gave Lance an inheritance check I recently received. The guy’s had a rough life, and now that his mother is in prison, he needs all the friends he can get.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask.

  She raises her head slightly. “Yes, he’s just freaking out about the grand opening. Wait until you see him. Total makeover, thanks to me. New haircut, new clothes, new everything.” She waves a hand in the direction of the coffeemakers. “Chop, chop. I’m dying over here.”

  “Do you want a cappuccino? It’s today’s special, or it will be once I write out the specials board.” I have one of those cute blackboard specials menus, and I draw a picture of the featured coffee of the day on it. My entire shop is black and white to complement my blackboard menu theme. The one on the long back wall displays every type and flavor of coffee on offer. But I bring plenty of pops of color with the neon chalk I use.

  “Don’t care. Just need caffeine,” Mo whines.

  I roll my eyes and start making her cappuccino. “You definitely weren’t giving him a makeover last night, so what were you doing that kept you from sleeping?”

  “Designing ads for him.”

  “Are you still working pro bono?” I ask as I finish steaming the milk.

  “No, he’s paying me now that he has the money to do so, but I’m not charging him anywhere near my usual rate.”

  “Good for you, Mo.”

  “Yeah, I’m an angel. That’s what he keeps telling me, anyway. How’s my coffee coming along?”

  “The perfect cappuccino can’t be rushed. I’m making the espresso now.”

  “Ugh.” She lets out a moan and lowers her head to the table.

  About a minute later, the door of the shop opens, and I turn to see Cam walking in.

  “What’s going on in here? It sounded like someone was dying.” His gaze goes to Mo.

  “I am,” she whines.

  I smile at Cam. We’ve known each other all our lives, but it wasn’t until about four weeks ago that we finally admitted we were more than best friends. “Hey, you. Are you ready for your big opening?” I top off Mo’s cappuccino with perfectly balanced layers of steamed milk and foam before handing it to her.

  She grabs it, doesn’t say thank you, and immediately takes a sip, pulling away with a foam mustache. I don’t bother telling her. “I have to go to work. See you in about an hour when I need another fix.” She stands up and raises the to-go cup to me.

  Cam wags a finger at Mo. “Um, you—”

  I shake my head at Cam.

  “Yes?” she asks him.

  “You have a good day,” he says with a smile.

  She grunts in response and walks out.

  Cam laughs and walks to the counter to greet me with a proper kiss hello. “What did she do to make you think she should be embarrassed at work with a milk moustache?”

  “Forgot to thank me for the cappuccino. You want one?”

  “Yes but no. I just wanted to say good morning before I open the doors to start the day.”

  “If I get a moment, I’ll bring a cappuccino to you, but since I plan to send all my customers to Cam’s Kitchen from here, you might not get a second to drink it.”

  He rests his hands on my hips and gives me a gentle squeeze. “I hope I’m that busy, but I’m not going to hold my breath. A few business owners aren’t exactly happy with me now that I’m not baking for them anymore.”

  “Hey, I found a way to get by without your baked goods. They will, too,” I say.

  His eyes go to the dark chocolate sticks I have individually wrapped on the counter next to the black and white mug for tips that Cam gave me as a present at my own grand opening. “You put out the chocolate sticks.”

  “Yeah, I’m trying them out for the first time today.” The point is to put them directly in your coffee cup and let them melt. “I’m hoping they’ll be a big hit like the other chocolates I make.”

  “Okay, I’m definitely coming in at some point to get one of those.”

  I rub his arms. “Don’t be nervous. Today is going to be great. You’ll see. And to get ready…” I hold up one finger and disappear behind the counter. I return with a cookie jar that says “Tips” on it. “I thought it was only fitting to get you a tip jar since you bought one for me.”

  He takes the tip jar and kisses me. “Thank you. I love it. I’ll put it on the counter by my register.” He looks behind him at the coffee cup clock on the wall. “I should go. Wish me luck.”

  “You’re not going to need it, but good luck.” I watch him walk outside, and then I turn my own closed sign around to let everyone know I’m open for the day.

  Cynthia Townsend, a local music teacher at the high school, is my first customer. She looks like she’s in a big hurry, and I can’t help wondering why she’s rushing so much when the high school is only two miles away. She has plenty of time to make it before her first class begins.

  “Good morning, Cynthia,” I say. “Can I interest you in a cappuccino?” I realize I still haven’t written out the specials board since I had visitors this morning.

  “Two please.” She looks back over her right shoulder.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her.

  “Yeah, just in a hurry. Will is waiting outside.”

  I get started on the cappuccinos. “Early meeting before classes?” I ask.

  “Yeah, and we’ve been having trouble with the car. Something with the brakes. Will brought it in to have the brakes changed over the weekend. We’re picking it up from the mechanic on Second Street. It’s rotten luck since my car is completely dead.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Did you walk this morning then?” I ask, knowing they live in a tiny two-bedroom cottage on the other side of the park.

  “A friend dropped us off.”

  I finish fixing both drinks and place the to-go cups on the counter. “You and Will should check out Cam’s Kitchen. He just opened today.”

  “Maybe another day.” Cynthia hands me a twenty-dollar bill, and as I start to ring her up, she backs up, saying, “Keep the change. I’ve got to go.”

  “But…” She’s already gone before I can protest. Why would someone who needs a new car leave me a tip that’s larger than her bill? I put the money aside, resigned to giving it to h
er later when she’s not in such a hurry. Then I get to work on the specials board.

  I’m just finishing up when the sound of sirens fills the air. I look up to see an ambulance speed down Main Street. I put the board down next to the counter and step outside. Cam is at his door to my right, and he steps outside when he sees me.

  “It turned onto Second Street,” he says.

  My ex best friend, Samantha, comes rushing across the street. She hurries over to us since her flower shop, Bouquets of Love, is on the other side of Cup of Jo.

  “What’s going on over there?” I ask Samantha.

  “There was a car accident on Second Street. Officer Stiles blocked off the road. He said two people were killed.”

  “Do you know who it is?” Being that her fiancé is a police detective, Samantha has a way of finding out more than she should in situations like this.

  “Cynthia and William Townsend.”

  My jaw drops. “Cynthia was just here,” I say.

  “I know. I saw her and Will leave. That’s the second time in under a month that someone died after leaving your coffee shop, Jo. It’s like you’re cursed or something.”

  She might be right. I seem to be doomed to be interrogated by my ex in connection to people’s deaths.

  Chapter Two

  With all the commotion on the street, a crowd begins to form. Several people decide to come inside Cup of Jo since my shop has a good view and they can get their caffeine fixes.

  Cam nods. “Go on. You have customers.”

  I feel bad that no one seems to be going inside his bakery. I give his hand a squeeze before entering my shop. I managed to fit two more tables in here since opening, and now all six tables are fully occupied.

  I move behind the counter and take the first order before calling out, “If anyone is hungry, Cam’s Kitchen is open next door. Feel free to go buy some baked goods while I make your coffees.” A few people take me up on that, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t want Cam’s opening day to be a flop, especially when I was the one who kept telling him to take the plunge and open his own bakery.

  I’m amazed by the amount of buzz concerning the accident since it doesn’t seem like anyone here actually witnessed it. But considering Cup of Jo became the place to be after I was involved in a murder investigation about four weeks ago, I’m not all that surprised. This town loves to gossip.

  “I heard the car went right into that empty space Cam Turner used to lease for his kitchen,” Mickey Baldwin says. He might be more of a gossip than the little old ladies who spend their days with their noses pressed to store windows to try to see what everyone is up to.

  “Who did you hear that from?” I ask, handing him his cappuccino.

  “I heard the police mention it on my way here. I was just at Cam’s Kitchen telling him about it. Good thing he opened his own place, or there might be another dead body to bury.”

  At this point, everyone in town knows about Cam and me, so I can’t believe Mickey is being so nonchalant talking about Cam dying.

  Sheila Marks smacks his arm. “Mickey, Cam is Jo’s boyfriend. Don’t say things like that to her.”

  “What? I said I’m glad Cam wasn’t hurt.”

  “It’s okay,” I say. “I know you meant well.”

  Sheila offers me a sympathetic smile. “Think Cam will be upset? I mean he operated out of that space for about five years. It must hold a lot of memories for him.”

  “I think he’ll be okay. Like Mickey said, at least he’s here on Main Street now and wasn’t in the path of that car.”

  “Do they have any idea what caused the accident?” Sheila asks, but Mickey just shrugs.

  “I know,” Samantha says from behind me, making me jump. “You’re jumpy, Jo,” she says.

  “When did you come in? Who’s watching your flower shop?” I ask.

  She waves a hand in the air. “It’s fine. I put a sign on my door that I was over here. If anyone needs me, they can just come here.”

  Great. When I leased the space next to her shop, I had no idea she’d want to spend so much time here, but she hasn’t exactly figured out that we’re no longer friends after she betrayed me. I’ve come to terms with her and Quentin, and part of me is glad I saw what kind of person Quentin is before I wound up engaged to him, but I don’t exactly want to socialize with either of them.

  Now, if only someone would tell them that.

  As if he senses I’m thinking about him, Quentin walks into the coffee shop. He makes a beeline for Samantha and me, wrapping an arm around Sam.

  Everyone stops talking, waiting for Quentin to fill them in.

  “I figured this is where I’d find a large group of people,” he begins. “Let me start by saying you’re all aware of the amount of rain we had last night. Second Street is having a drainage issue, and it caused part of the road to flood. We’re certain Mr. Townsend simply hydroplaned, causing him to lose control of the vehicle and crash into the storefront. No one else was injured since the space is currently sitting empty. It was an unfortunate accident, but an accident nonetheless.”

  A few people start asking questions, but Quentin holds up a hand and says, “That’s all I can say about the matter at this time. Sorry, folks.” He walks up to the counter, which forces me to follow.

  “What can I get for you, Detective?”

  He looks down at the specials board. “I’ll take a cappuccino to go.”

  “Heading back to the station?” I ask as I get started on his drink.

  “Yeah. It should be a simple open-and-closed case, though.” He laughs, which makes me turn my head to look at him because I can’t see what’s amusing about two people dying. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be insensitive. It’s just that we found two to-go cups in the vehicle. From Cup of Jo, which I’m sure you already know about.”

  “I do. Cynthia was in here this morning.” I finish making the drink, debating if I should tell Quentin about Cynthia’s strange behavior. He’s probably right. It was probably an accident caused by the flooded road, but something about the way Cynthia seemed in a rush and almost like someone was watching her or following her makes me give in and talk. “Quentin, Cynthia was acting odd when she was here.”

  “Odd how?”

  “Well, she kept looking over her shoulder.”

  “Probably because Will was waiting for her outside,” Samantha says, still at Quentin’s side, her arm looped through his. “I saw him.”

  “Well, there you go,” Quentin says, easily dismissing my concern because the love of his life said as much.

  “Right but she was in a hurry. I mean, she said she had a meeting before her first class, but she paid with a twenty and told me to keep the change.” I cap his drink and put it on the counter before reaching into the register to pull out the twenty-dollar bill I put under the drawer for safe keeping. “I was planning to give her the change later because she said her car died and Will’s was having trouble with the brakes. They were on their way to pick it up from the mechanic on Second Street.”

  “They still had to pick up their car before heading to their meeting. They were in a hurry, so they probably didn’t notice the standing water before it was too late,” Quentin says before sipping his cappuccino. “This is really good.” He hands me a ten-dollar bill, and I give him his change.

  “I know that, but I can’t help feeling like something was wrong.”

  Quentin puts his change in his wallet. “Look, Jo, you did a great job helping me on that last case, but it’s time to put away your invisible badge—I believe you called it.”

  “But what if there’s more to this?”

  “Then that’s for the police to figure out.” He gives me a nod, and he and Samantha walk out, still arm in arm.

  I’d feel a lot better if I thought he was actually going to look into the accident, but I know he won’t.