Coffee With a Splash of Mystery

COFFEE WITH A SPLASH OF MYSTERY   

    The morning began as a typical fast-paced work day. The smell of freshly brewing coffee emanated from the Bean Barn, a quaint coffee shop frequented by people en route to their places of employment. Inside the shop, soft New Age music wafted through the air as people lined up to order their favorite morning beverage. Small, round tables were scattered about the place, some folks reading the paper while enjoying their coffee, and chatting with friends. Massive glass windows allowed the summery sunlight to warm patrons sitting nearby.

    Emily Middleton, a petite woman in her mid-thirties, sat at a table near a window. Engrossed in a book, she twirled a strand of her wheat-colored hair, periodically sipping her coffee, never taking her eyes from the page. Now and then she peered up from her book and watched the patrons in the ordering line. Anyone watching her would assume she was waiting for a special someone.

    Unbeknownst to Emily, a man named Dalton McBride entered the shop and took his place in line, casually perusing the people in the shop. As he stood there, he reached into his jacket pocket and felt for the folded-up piece of paper he had been carrying around for months. Satisfied it was still there, he then pulled out his wallet.

    He was not a classically handsome man, but he had nice features and was dressed professionally in a charcoal gray suit. His dark brown hair which could almost be called black, was short and neatly combed back from his face. McBride, a private investigator by vocation, had a mysterious quality about him—like a man who had seen his share of unsolved cases. While his profession gave him the habit of observing people, today, after studying the shop’s patrons, his eyes rested on Emily Middleton, sitting alone by the window.

    McBride placed his order, paid for it, then balancing the large cup in his hand, attempted to shove his wallet into his jacket pocket as he slowly made his way to where Emily was sitting. As he approached her, still trying to find the opening in his pocket while balancing the hot liquid, his shoe hit a chair that was in his way and suddenly, his cup tilted, spilling some of the hot coffee onto Emily’s lap and her book. Emily let out a cry and frantically reached for one of the napkins that were scattered about on the table.

    McBride was mortified and apologized profusely.

    “I am so very sorry, Miss,” said McBride, his face red with embarrassment. “I didn’t see you there. My foot seemed to have caught under that chair—are you all right?”

    Still somewhat stunned, Emily’s eyes flashed with annoyance but she replied, “I’m fine. It’s all right, really.” She continued mopping up the coffee that had splattered on herself and the book.

    McBride set his coffee down on the table and picked up more napkins. 

    “I really am sorry. Let me help with that.” He took the book from her hands and attempted to dab at the wet pages. 

    Emily’s demeanor softened and her irritation began to fade. She gave McBride the smallest of smiles.

    “It’s fine,” she said, “just a bit of a mess. “I appreciate the help, though.”

    Standing over the table, McBride swiped several napkins over the table where some of the coffee had spilled.

    Emily looked up at him, studied his face, and thought she saw something familiar about the man although she couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

    Her smile grew as she watched him. “I guess you’ve had quite the morning, huh?”

    McBride looked at her, a sense of uneasiness coming over him. “I guess you could say that. Just having one of my typical days.”

    “I’ve never seen you here. First time?”

    McBride stammered for a moment. “I—it’s—yes, my first time. I needed something to get me going this morning.”

    Emily laughed. “So what does bring you here? Business or pleasure?”

    McBride frowned slightly. “Well, it would be business, mostly. You see, I’m a private investigator.”

    Emily’s right eyebrow went up. “An honest-to-goodness PI—that is interesting.”

    He shuffled from one foot to the other. “And how about you? Are you a student?”

    She laughed again and the sound of it made McBride laugh along with her. “Good heavens, those days are over, but thanks for thinking I’m that young. No, actually, I’m a forensic technician.”

    “Like DNA testing, stuff like that?”

    “Yes, and other “stuff”, but DNA, for sure,” she said, her interest now piqued.

    The two spoke a few minutes more and then an uncomfortable silence entered in.

    Emily ran her fingers over the stains on her dress, then glanced at her watch.

    “Well, this has been a very unfortunate meeting, for sure,” she said.

    “Yeah? You think so?” His laugh betrayed his embarrassment. “I’m glad we got to talk, thought, and except for the mess I’ve made of you and your book, I’ve enjoyed our talk.”

    Again, that beautiful smile played across Emily’s lips. She blushed and looked down at her book.

    Sensing Emily was preparing to leave, McBride decided to take a chance and sat down across from her. She didn’t object so he decided to continue the conversation.

    “So what are you reading?” He glanced at the book’s cover.

    She shrugged. “Just a fictional mystery. I confess I’m an addict.”

    McBride nodded. “Hey, no one likes a good mystery more than me. They keep me in business.” He added, “and nothing is more mysterious than a dark past.”

    Emily raised an eyebrow. “You enjoy the seedier aspects of life, I take it.”

    McBride hesitated momentarily, then nodded. “Sad, isn't it? But I love putting all the pieces of the puzzle together and solving the mystery. There’s something compelling about digging around and coming up with the truth.”

    Emily, intrigued now, leaned forward.

    “What was the most interesting—or dangerous— case you’ve ever worked on?”

    A shadow crossed his chiseled face and he debated as to how much to say. He took a cursory glance around the shop to ensure no one was listening.

    “Okay, so a few months ago I was hired to investigate this missing person case that for decades the police have been unable to solve, so the family hired me. The missing person was a young woman—very similar to yourself.”

    Emily set her book down. “So have you found the person, that woman?”

    McBride cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. “No, but I’ve uncovered a few things and the clues have led me to believe that this person had connections, somehow, to a murder.”

    Emily hesitated for a few seconds, then said, “That’s eerily strange.” She folded her hands and placed them on the table.

    “Maybe I can help you. I do have access to an awesome lab, you know. Sounds like you may need DNA testing at some point with this missing person.”  

    McBride chewed on his lip. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “It could prove dangerous, but then, you do have some great tools that could help.” He took a sip of what was now cold coffee.  

    “I understand all that, but it sounds so interesting what you do, and if I can help out, I’d like to.”

    McBride exhaled. “Okay, that would be nice.” Then he looked at her, his face serious. “I won’t be able to share everything with you but I can certainly throw out a few details. And maybe with a fresh eye—” 

    Emily clapped her hands together like a little girl. 

    After several minutes of friendly conversation, the talk turned to their personal lives, and then, it was time for the two to make their exits.

    “Thanks for the conversation,” Emily said as she gathered her thoughts. Looking down at her dress she said, “I’m a mess but I’ve enjoyed our talk.”

    “Me, too,” McBride said with an apologetic grin. “And thanks for offering to help me with this case. Here’s my number,” he handed her a business card, “and I’ll keep in touch and let you know what I need help with.”

    Emily took the card and wrote her number down on a clean napkin. She handed it to McBride, got up, and left the shop, book in hand.

    As she left, she felt a sense of purpose and was excited about helping the mysterious McBride with this missing person case. She was a puzzle solver and knew whatever lay ahead could be challenging but she was ready to dive in.

    McBride watched her leave, feeling apprehensive. The case was far from resolved, but he had a feeling that Emily’s involvement might be the key to unlocking the secrets that had remained hidden for too long.

    He picked up Emily’s empty coffee cup and carefully secreted it in his pocket. In the end, their unexpected meeting over spilled coffee had led McBride to the clue that, in time, would tie all loose ends together and resolve a decades-long mystery. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a faded photograph of a four-year-old girl with long blond curls and an impish smile, who was the lone survivor of the brutal slaying of a family of four.