the coffee twice and sold nearly
all the breakfast baked goods before the police car showed up. The blue-and-red lights
reflected in the shop window and everything grew still. People held their breath for
what they clearly hoped would be a good show.
I took the bull by the horns, pushed through the crowd, and met Officer Emry at the
door. “Hello,” I said as he walked up. “Did you come to take down the crime scene
tape?” It was silly to have it still up since everyone had ducked under to come inside,
including Officer Emry. I’d be sure to point that out should he decide I’d somehow
been ruining his crime scene.
“Ms. Toni Holmes, I have a warrant to search the premises.” Officer Emry’s voice cracked.
He hitched up his gun belt then sniffed and handed me a piece of paper folded in thirds.
“I thought Chief Blaylock would be here.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“Never mind, come on in . . .” I waved him toward the door and held it wide, exposing
the crowd inside.
“I’m afraid I have to ask you to step out while we search,” he said, unmoving.
“Really? The place is full of customers.” I pointed at the crowd in case he hadn’t
noticed.
“I’ll man the registers,” Grandma Ruth piped up.
“Works for me,” Officer Emry said, his head bobbing up and down.
“Fine.” I stepped out into the brisk fall air. “Can I at least take a cup of coffee
with me?”
“I’ll bring one out,” Candy called from inside.
“And a jacket?” I rubbed my forearms. It was probably fifty degrees, but fifty degrees
could get cold if this took any length of time. Thankfully, my storefront was small.
“You got it, honey,” Candy called then disappeared into the crowd.
Two of yesterday’s crime scene techs went inside the bakery with Officer Emry. They
carried dark, fat briefcases full of who knew what. Candy came out with my jacket
and a tall cup of coffee. The small smatter of freckles across her pert nose glistened
in the morning light.
“I gave you a generous amount of cream.”
“Thanks.” I put on my coat, then took the coffee and gave it a sip. “Perfect. Now
what? Am I the only person not allowed inside?” I studied the small crowd as they
watched the cops check out the front of the shop before disappearing in the back.
“You see, if you’re guilty, you know what to hide. Therefore, yes, you’re the only
one not allowed.” Candy put her hand on the door.
“This is nuts.”
“But it makes for great news copy.” She smiled her dazzling smile and scooted inside
where it was warm.
I leaned against the wall, wishing I’d put the café tables and chairs out on the walk
like I’d intended to do in the spring. Then I’d have someplace to sit and put up my
feet. As it was I was left huddling next to the door like the Little Match Girl. I
looked around. Cars drove by slowly. There were two cop cruisers with lights flashing
in front of the store. The street was fully packed. Yellow crime scene tape blocked
off my business. The trough itself still held slimy water. I shuddered at the thought
that it was the last thing George Meister breathed in.
I turned my back on the trough sculpture. Maybe when this was done I’d petition the
city council to have it removed—out of respect for George, of course. I watched through
the glass as the crime scene guys dusted the door and countertops for fingerprints.
Every single customer must have touched something. Did they plan on fingerprinting
the entire town? What were they looking for?
Evidence George had been inside the shop, I figured. But he hadn’t, so good luck to
them on that. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and sipped nervously
at my coffee until the cup was empty. I wanted more, but I wasn’t allowed to refill
my own mug.
Sighing, I set the empty cup on the ground and prayed Officer Emry wouldn’t fine me
for ruining his beloved crime scene. With
all the breakfast baked goods before the police car showed up. The blue-and-red lights
reflected in the shop window and everything grew still. People held their breath for
what they clearly hoped would be a good show.
I took the bull by the horns, pushed through the crowd, and met Officer Emry at the
door. “Hello,” I said as he walked up. “Did you come to take down the crime scene
tape?” It was silly to have it still up since everyone had ducked under to come inside,
including Officer Emry. I’d be sure to point that out should he decide I’d somehow
been ruining his crime scene.
“Ms. Toni Holmes, I have a warrant to search the premises.” Officer Emry’s voice cracked.
He hitched up his gun belt then sniffed and handed me a piece of paper folded in thirds.
“I thought Chief Blaylock would be here.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“Never mind, come on in . . .” I waved him toward the door and held it wide, exposing
the crowd inside.
“I’m afraid I have to ask you to step out while we search,” he said, unmoving.
“Really? The place is full of customers.” I pointed at the crowd in case he hadn’t
noticed.
“I’ll man the registers,” Grandma Ruth piped up.
“Works for me,” Officer Emry said, his head bobbing up and down.
“Fine.” I stepped out into the brisk fall air. “Can I at least take a cup of coffee
with me?”
“I’ll bring one out,” Candy called from inside.
“And a jacket?” I rubbed my forearms. It was probably fifty degrees, but fifty degrees
could get cold if this took any length of time. Thankfully, my storefront was small.
“You got it, honey,” Candy called then disappeared into the crowd.
Two of yesterday’s crime scene techs went inside the bakery with Officer Emry. They
carried dark, fat briefcases full of who knew what. Candy came out with my jacket
and a tall cup of coffee. The small smatter of freckles across her pert nose glistened
in the morning light.
“I gave you a generous amount of cream.”
“Thanks.” I put on my coat, then took the coffee and gave it a sip. “Perfect. Now
what? Am I the only person not allowed inside?” I studied the small crowd as they
watched the cops check out the front of the shop before disappearing in the back.
“You see, if you’re guilty, you know what to hide. Therefore, yes, you’re the only
one not allowed.” Candy put her hand on the door.
“This is nuts.”
“But it makes for great news copy.” She smiled her dazzling smile and scooted inside
where it was warm.
I leaned against the wall, wishing I’d put the café tables and chairs out on the walk
like I’d intended to do in the spring. Then I’d have someplace to sit and put up my
feet. As it was I was left huddling next to the door like the Little Match Girl. I
looked around. Cars drove by slowly. There were two cop cruisers with lights flashing
in front of the store. The street was fully packed. Yellow crime scene tape blocked
off my business. The trough itself still held slimy water. I shuddered at the thought
that it was the last thing George Meister breathed in.
I turned my back on the trough sculpture. Maybe when this was done I’d petition the
city council to have it removed—out of respect for George, of course. I watched through
the glass as the crime scene guys dusted the door and countertops for fingerprints.
Every single customer must have touched something. Did they plan on fingerprinting
the entire town? What were they looking for?
Evidence George had been inside the shop, I figured. But he hadn’t, so good luck to
them on that. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and sipped nervously
at my coffee until the cup was empty. I wanted more, but I wasn’t allowed to refill
my own mug.
Sighing, I set the empty cup on the ground and prayed Officer Emry wouldn’t fine me
for ruining his beloved crime scene. With
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