Season 1: Caramel Macchiato Murder
Episode 1: Coffee Run
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I think it just depends on how good the words are. Everyone has some favorite words. If the word is coffee, it’s a pretty darn good word in my opinion. On the other hand, a thousand coffees would be better than one. Might sound redundant, but these are the choice words that filled my brain as I realized I’d made the ultimate mistake. Meaning, I was realizing I was out of coffee on the absolute worst day of the week. Monday.
To make matters worse, it wasn’t just any Monday. It was the first really chilly Monday morning of autumn. I’m sure you know the type I’m talking about. The ones where people of a certain age and type, over around 28-30, get aches and pains and have trouble crawling out of bed, but in my case, I also couldn’t sleep the night before. This was the cherry on top of my bad morning.
I didn’t have a lot of choices left. I don’t function without coffee, so it wasn’t like I was just going to skip it. Angrily, I trudged across to the window seat where I left my shoes, slipped my feet into my sneakers, and grabbed my favorite black and white polka dot jacket off the hook by the door as I slung my tiny black purse across my body. This little purse was everything. It was just big enough to hold my cards, money, keys, and cell phone. I cinched it tight around my body after locking my house. I pulled the ponytail holder off its normal location on my wrist, and I attempted to scoop my messy red curls into a big bun. I piled the hair high atop my head before I set out at a sluggish jog down Main Street, the misty and mostly dark road that butted up next to my house.
A crisp autumn wind blew past my face as I jogged down Main Street, crunching leaves on the sidewalk at 5:45 AM. I want you to know that there was only one thing that would draw me to get out of bed and to be running at this time…coffee. Okay…two. And insomnia… which I had on top of being out of coffee, which is pretty much a sin, so today I was running straight for my favorite little morning coffee shop. If I hurried, I’d be there when it opened at 6:00 sharp. If you see me running and it’s not toward a coffee shop, please look to see who is chasing me. I promise, I’m not one of those types of people that runs for fun. I could truly need help if I’m running.
As I jogged, I let Niceville’s autumn decor wow me. It was still dark enough for another hour that the twinkling lights in shop windows shined brightly as I ran by. Fall has always been my favorite time of year. My best friend and partner in crime, Mandy, says I like when all the pretty stuff dies. I think I just like the pretty colors that envelope the world during this time of year. The oranges, yellows, golds, crimsons, and purples create something of mystical value to me. Pumpkins, maple leaves, and scarecrows dotted shop windows with spooky colors. It was beautiful in an enchanting way. We never did hold back on decorations here in Niceville. Not for any season. I mean, that wouldn’t be nice, now would it?
Main Street was dotted first with neighborhoods with little quaint houses. The houses were on the small side, but all the front porches had cute little pumpkins and skeletons out. A little further down the road, the shopping district started. That’s where all the shops with the beautiful displays started. I loved how each window had witches, goblins, maples leaves, you name it! And the Halloween lights were in full swing. No one would be disappointed by the elaborate displays put forth in our nice little town.
Niceville is, as it sounds, a very nice place to live. It didn’t get its name as a joke. While not the most original name, it’s on par. We are smack dab in central Oklahoma. While the name sounds like something out of a cheesy movie or kid book, it’s a perfectly quaint little town. We are just a stone’s throw from any major city you might want to visit. In fact, it has a small college that makes the population wax and wane a bit from academic year to summertime, but we stay between 9-10 thousand people. Our college mascot is the Niceville ‘Naders (Tornados). Cheesy and cute. In my opinion, we are just big enough to have a lot of good things, but not so large it’s overwhelming. It’s just right, as Goldilocks would say.
I mean, what respectable town doesn’t have a few good book shops, a ton of good coffee shops and restaurants, a bar scene, good doctors, a nice hospital, our own police department and fire station? And we even had multiple grocery stores! We are set. We need a mall, but I won’t complain. Much. We were one of the lucky towns that was full of locals that kept it populated year-round, but we also had enough visitors coming in to keep things interesting thanks to the college. We’d pretty much landed ourselves a sweet deal.
Oh, by the way, I’m Carrie Cooper. I’m a chef, restaurant owner, witch, and ex-private investigator. I spend most of my time working at my restaurant, Carrie’s Kitchen, or working extremely mundane cases driven by questions like is my husband cheating on me or did my neighbor steal my dog, but the pay is good. Occasionally, I get called in on a bigger case, but I’m content working smaller stuff right now. There is plenty of time to work my way up to larger stuff later if I desire. I know I say ex, but it’s because I keep trying to quit being a private investigator. Life just keeps dragging me back in. Maybe because of the witch thing... It’s a very long story, but trouble always seems to find me. That’s how the community learned I was a witch. I don’t look for trouble, but I can’t even turn a corner without running right smack dab into it.
I was sure the town would freak out, so I kept the whole witch thing a secret for a while, but then one day I accidentally used my powers in broad daylight in the middle of town. A little old man was walking across the street, and a car was zooming right at him. I just zipped him right across. I slipped. That’s what I call it when I accidentally use my powers.
You could say word spread faster than the flu in December. People were just curious though. That’s how I became Carrie Cooper, Witch for hire. Sounds like trouble, huh?
No trouble finding today! No sir. I just need coffee.
When I’m in the trouble finding business, I don’t do it all alone. You see, I’m really analytical, but I’m not really patient. Okay, I’m not patient at all. That’s where Mandy Baker comes in. She is really patient, but sometimes has trouble putting the pieces together. We balance each other out. That’s why we make a perfect team in the kitchen and on a case. Don’t get me wrong, we drive each other nuts, but we love each other, too.
Mandy is one of those friends that you can just count on to always be at your side. I’ve known her sense grade school, and we are pretty much connected at the hip. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep her safe, and the same goes for her. Better hope I never have to take a bullet for her because I’d be a goner for sure. Without a second’s thought, I’d risk my life for her. She’s my sister from another mister.
And I couldn’t do any of this without her. That includes run my little restaurant. Carrie’s Kitchen is a little café that serves baked goods, some homestyle meals, and darn good coffee. We have a small menu of meals to keep them quality. If I didn’t have Mandy, it would be a mess, but the locals rave about the menu and always say that I serve up the best food they can find. That is enough to keep me cooking. And I just love the people that come around. The citizens of Niceville, while nosey, are actually really good folks. That keep me feeling better on long days. There is always someone to lend a kind word.
I skidded to stop outside Corner Coffee. It was 5:58, and it was still dark. I’d made it in time. I took the time to pull my hairband out of my curly red bush and redo my messy bun. The run had by and far destroyed my original hairdo. Not that it was a huge loss. First time was a mess. I was sure I couldn’t make it worse this time. By the time I finished, it was 6:00. There was still no movement. That was so weird. Sylvia was always open fifteen minutes early. It was basically her brand. I went to high school with her ten years ago, and she was a gal pal. She was fifteen minutes early to school every single day. If you weren’t early, you were late. It was her motto. Not mine for dang sure.
I think if you aren’t late, you’re early, but who am I to judge. She runs a pretty tight ship around here. And frankly, she has the best coffee and cinnamon rolls in town. Except me of course. This particular morning, I was hoping to grab a cup of joe and roll before I had to do my own opening procedure. I also wanted to catch up. Sylvia seemed upset when I saw her yesterday, so hopefully I could catch her long enough to make sure she was all right. But back to how long I’ve known Sylvia… Sylvia and I went way back too. She, Mandy, and I even used to hang out some in high school. I was closer to her than Mandy ever was, but she’s a good egg. And I wanted to check on her this morning.
I text Mandy.
Me: Want coffee?
Mandy: Sure.
Me: Pick me up.
Mandy: Home?
Me: Sylvia’s
Mandy: Be there in 10
I turned back to the shop. Still nothing. I peered through the glass. The earliest specks of light were starting to shine in the distance as the sun just barely peeked over the horizon, and it was creating a tiny glare on the window. It wouldn’t really be light for almost an hour. It was pitch black inside. I had a weird feeling though. For good measure, I pulled on the door to make sure it wasn’t unlocked. It wasn’t. The florescent pink open sign wasn’t on in the window either. Sylvia was a good friend. If she was worried about me, she’d go check things out. My mind was made up.
I decided to walk around to the back side of the shop where she always entered through the alley entrance. The door was wide open. Anxiety cinched up my stomach. She was never careless like that. Even in a mostly safe town like Niceville, a woman shouldn’t leave her door wide open before daylight.
I stood there for a second or two deciding what to do next. The inside looked like a pitch-black cavern. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. It certainly wasn’t like Sylvia to be late. Something didn’t feel right here.
I stepped up to the door carefully. “Sylvia girl?” I called out.
No response met my call.
My pulse quickened. I felt along the doorway for the light switch. Right as my fingers connected with it and light flooded my vision creating a temporary blinding effect, BING, I heard an oven timer go off in the room over. Relief flood through me. She must have just been running late. That’s all. No need for the timer if she wasn’t using the oven.
I traipsed through the big mud room where Sylvia usually left her coat, purse, and things. There was a jacket hanging on a hook, but there was nothing else here today. My nose was filled with the scent of fresh caramel macchiato. Now that was what I wanted to drink this morning. The sweet caramel coffee would fix me up nicely. I rounded the corner to enter the kitchen as I called out again, louder this time, “Sylvi…”
Episode 2: Jumpstart My Heart
The call fell numbly from my lips as I looked across the kitchen. Sylvia was face down on the ground, her head turned sideways at an awkward angle, and her skin had a very unnatural hue to it made all the more obvious by her raven black hair that was pooled around her. A broken coffee cup lay on the floor with what was most likely the remnants of the delicious smell of caramel macchiato. Something squished barely under the end of my shoe. I looked downwards instinctively, willing myself to look anywhere but at my poor friend Sylvia. Her hairband was at my feet. She always wore her hair up in the kitchen. She wouldn’t break regulation code. There must have been a scuffle to cause all of this mess in her always pristine kitchen. Poor, poor Sylvia.
Well shit…seems like Sylvia had a worse Monday than I was having by far. This was putting my morning into perspective.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tiny bit of movement. I jerked my head that way. A shiny white perlescent figure stood there. Her raven black hair hung down her back. She wore an apron over the clothes that clothed her dead body on the floor in front of me. It was Sylvia. Before I could as much as say a word, she zipped through the wall. New ghosts are skiddish like that. And I was startled because she was my friend.
Oh yeah, I see dead people. Like the movie. I know. It’s cliche, but I really do. I can talk to ghosts, see them, and do little seances. We’ll get to that stuff later. None of this is full proof, and I have bigger fish to fry right this second. I had wanted to talk to her, but I know that I’d look like a crazy cat if I was caught on security footage chatting with thin air. And without a doubt, they were gong to need to look at security footage. They. The police. I needed to call them.
I was still standing there two or three minutes later when I heard someone knocking on the front door of her shop. I snapped out of myself. I’d been in a stupor. I guess I just froze up. I was shaking, but I hadn’t called 911, moved an inch, or anything. When the second knock came, I hollered, “She’s closed for the day.” She’s closed forever.
I was pulling out my cell when I heard footsteps behind me. I swung around, heart thudding almost out of my chest straight up into my throat. A man’s brick wall of a chest was all I could see. Hands circled my wrists as I tried to shove him away as hard as I could. Fear pulsed through me. I was ready to fight for my life.
“Carrie, calm down. It’s me, Danny.” I heard the man say.
Danny was an old friend. He happened to be a deputy with the police department as well. I felt my heart settle back down into my chest from where it had been hanging out up in my throat, but my nausea stayed 100 percent present. Danny took a small step back, and I looked up at him.
“Did you beat on the door out front?” I asked.
“No. Kelsie did. We wanted coffee before I go off to work. Something seemed weird so I said I was going around back to see if everything was alright. We saw you jog by our house five or ten minutes earlier. I assumed you were headed here. And it was still closed up and dark. Made me nervous something might be wrong. Thought I needed to take a look.”
I stepped aside. For the first time, he got a full view of the room.
“Oh my God,” he said. Without hesitation, he pulled his cell phone from his belt clip. A couple of taps and rings later, he said, “Chief, get down to Corner Coffee. We have a body, guessing a homicide. Want me to call in our best guys?”
I don’t know what all was said from there. I just know that I was going into autopilot as he ushered me out the backdoor and around the front of the building. Mandy was there with Kelsie, Danny’s wife. They both looked concerned. I’m sure I was even more pale then my usual ghostly white. Danny was still on the phone, so before he could tell me not to say anything about what I’d saw, I said, “She’s dead.”
Mandy and Kelsie gasped loudly. He turned and gave me a filthy look. Okay. I knew he was going to tell me to keep it on the down low. So, I blabbed quickly… so sue me. I was in shock. I had no caffeine in me, and I just found the dead body of a person I’d known since grade school and been friends with since high school. We all just stood there. I felt tears stinging at the edges of my eyes.
Mandy said, “What happened?”
“I think she was murdered. Looked like a struggle.”
Kelsie put her arm around me. She sensed my sadness. She was the only one that hadn’t known Sylvia her whole life, but she still really liked her. But Kelsie was a great person. She just wanted to be there for me.
Mandy whispered, “Why would anyone do that to her? She wouldn’t hurt a fly!”
“I don’t know, but it was just awful. She looked upset yesterday. I should have checked on her. I was going to this morning over coffee. It’s all my fault.”
Mandy and Kelsie both said, “No,” in unison.
Danny approached and said, “No what?”
“I was telling them that Sylvia looked upset yesterday. I saw her briefly from a distance. I didn’t have a chance to stop and ask her what was wrong. I feel so bad. I should have stopped. I came early today for some coffee to check on her. Now I’ll never know…” I trailed off.
“I promise we will get to the bottom of this,” he said. “But I’m going to need to ask you some questions,” he said as police cars started roaring up. I just nodded.
Chief Jefferson, the police chief of Niceville, walked up and handed me a cup of coffee. I must have looked exhausted. I couldn’t decide if I was numb or so sad I couldn’t process properly at the moment. It was like everything was moving at super speed around me. The good news about Chief Jefferson was that he was a jovial man, a little rotund around the middle, and overall, quite lazy. He wasn’t a bad man, but he definitely wasn’t the best at his job. He wasn’t going to give me much trouble. I’d consulted on enough cases that he trusted me.
“Carrie, you aren’t in any trouble. We just need to know exactly what happened when you got there. Like if you saw anything. You help us out from time to time. We trust you, but you were found by a dead body this morning. I’m sure you understand that we might have a few questions for you. It's procedure though. Nothing to worry about.”
“Oh yeah. If it helps, I was holding a phone ready to call 911. I froze up. I couldn’t believe she was dead. She’s been my friend for ten or fifteen years. I don’t know what came over me. I woke up and realized I was out of coffee this morning. I’d been wanting to come by early to see her anyway. She seemed a bit upset when I saw her from a distance yesterday. I wanted to check on her this morning, so it seemed like the perfect plan. I set out to kill two birds with one stone…” I trailed off.
Everyone grimaced.
“Go on,” Chief Jefferson said.
“Sorry. Bad choice of words. Literally, when I looked in the front side of the shop and saw it was dark, it worried me. Everyone that knows Sylvia knows that she takes punctuality seriously. I went around back and saw the door open. I flicked the light on. I heard her oven timer go off. I felt relieved. Walked into the kitchen and saw her on the ground.”
“I’m so sorry, Carrie. I know that it must have been hard finding her like that. I have to ask. Did you touch anything?” Chief Jefferson asked.
I thought hard for a moment. I couldn’t remember touching anything else. “Not except the light and the window outside the storefront.”
“Okay. That’s good. The crime scene should be intact. We may have more questions, but we know where to find you.”
“Of course. I think I stepped on a hairband on the ground.”
“I’ll note that if it’s an issue. Thanks for being thorough. I know that it helps you have some experience with things like this.”
“Just call me or come by my house. I’m probably closing up work for the day. I just don’t think I can manage to act like nothing is wrong. You know where to find me though.”
“That sounds like a smart move for the heart, but it will cause more gossip in the long run. You know how fast gossip travels in this town. It will give you time to process before they line up at your counter and pester you, but the outcome is going to be the same.” Chief said kindly.
I was a little taken aback. I didn’t want to do anything today. I was shocked and couldn’t imagine just going about my day like I hadn’t found my friend dead this morning. “I mean, I don’t know,” I said.
“I can’t tell you what to do, but it will look much better if you just keep on doing your normal routine. Looks a bit odd to hide away after you find a dead body in the early hours of the morning,” he pushed.
“I had nothing to do with this. You know that. I swear,” I said with an edge of anger in my voice.
“I’m just looking out for your reputation. You’re a business owner, a friend, and a good woman. People talk around this town. Then, things get all muddled up. People only have good things to say about you. I wouldn’t want that sullied by something like this.”
We stood there staring at one another. I couldn’t get a read on if it was advice, a threat, or an order. His gray handlebar mustache was tweaked up at the sides as usual. Today, I found it immensely annoying. Normally, I found him cute in a grandfatherly way. He smiled at me, and he rubbed his belly.
“Welp, I must get back over to direct the team. Just think about what I said. People are nosey. They will talk. Best to hear what they have to say. Hiding away won’t change it. Just delays the truth getting out. You hear me now?”
He waddled off without waiting for my response to his question.
And just like that, I was free to go about my day, but I had a case to solve. My friend was murdered. I felt positive of that. I had a gut instinct about things. There was no way that was a natural death. She was healthy as could be. Yesterday, she looked distraught. Today, she was dead on her kitchen floor. It reeked of foul play. I’d get to the bottom of this. Someone had to. I didn’t know how though. As I took a drink of my copshop coffee, I let the bitter taste wash over me. Dirt. It tasted like dirt, not unlike the feeling of this entire day.
I turned to Mandy. We exchanged a frustrated look. We each waved at Kelsie who was standing a little way away. She waved back sadly at us. Mandy nodded at me and gestured to her little Honda parked across the road. People were starting to pop up to see what was going on. We avoided all gazes. We crossed silently at the crosswalk. To say we were stunned would be an understatement of the century.
Once inside the warm interior of the car, we just stared at one another. Disbelief didn’t really cover the range of emotions that we were going through. Between losing a friend and the odd reaction of Chief Jefferson to me wanting to close of the restaurant for the day, we were flummoxed. The real questions we had were still forming. Mandy needed coffee. And I needed much better coffee than this police station brew that had been graciously brought to me, but it was like dirt water.
Without a word, Mandy put the car in reverse to drive off toward the only place that could fix all this, or the only place that didn’t require one of the two of us to cook: Niceville Coffee. They made the coffees large, hot, and fresh. But at least equally important, they made the donuts huge and in twelve packs or larger. Only jelly could heal our hearts.
Love this! Can’t wait for next week!
Nice, I generally don't read paranormal, but your style of writing is engaging and I just kept reading. Looking forward to the next installment.