Free A Cup of Murder by Cam Larson

I did that. The
police are well aware of the problems between us."
    Looking at the beaten man in front of me caused me
to soften my attitude a little. There was no doubt that Jacob would
be more likely to lash out in anger toward Michael Simms with a
direct confrontation rather than passing notes back and forth like
school boys. Any response to written threats like that by Jacob
seemed out of character for the man I thought I knew. He didn’t
mince words of strong dislike for Michael. He never cared who
witnessed him. His spurts of anger came suddenly and there was no
control over his emotions at times like that.
    Above all, I was sure he wouldn’t step foot into
Sunrise and I doubt Michael would have wanted to meet him in his own
coffee shop that late, or at all. I sat down across from my boss.
    "Was the note I saw the only one you have?"
    "It’s the only one I have at my house. I
wrote it at home and planned to put it at his door in the next day or
so. I have no idea if Michael kept any. I sent him one other one
about a week ago."
    There were no words when he said that. If any
notes were found by police then it would only prove another strike
against Jacob. Evidence like that was a sure cause for arrest. The
sick feeling that crept around in my stomach didn’t let up. At this
point I found it hard to listen to more incrimination. I opted to go
for practical observations in the whole matter.
    "Jacob, whoever killed Michael is a
methodical person. It is someone who is particular about details and
gets his or her way in an underhanded manner. The person had to have
patience and wait for his chance. Somehow you just don’t fit that
profile when it comes to the way he was murdered."
    "What do you mean?"
    "I mean the way your anger rises up with no
warning signs tells me you wouldn’t have planned every little
detail. You just would not have had the patience to wait for the
right moment."
    I threw a winning smile in his direction. For
once, I thought his trait of spontaneous irritation might serve him
well in this case.
    "You mentioned a couple days ago that there
was suspicion that he was poisoned. Is that confirmed? Do you know
what kind of poison was used?" he asked.
    There was no way I was going to reveal what Daniel
Jenkins had told me and so I feigned ignorance of details like that.
    "That brings another point to make. Unless
you have access to poisonous chemicals we have to conclude someone
else did. I just don’t know who at this point."
    "Laila," Jacob said, his voice deep and
almost guttural."I know you've been investigating as a favor to
me, but you need to stop. Whoever killed Michael isn't messing
around. Don't get yourself killed over this."
    "Jacob," I say, clapping my hand on his
big shoulder. "Follow me."
    I led him into my bedroom. I had put up a
corkboard and pinned notes of information I had so far in order of
discovery. His name, comments and actions were set apart from the
chronological order of the main part of the board which now resembled
lodgepole pines with perfectly straight branches. There was a name at
the top of each ‘branch.’
    "We should think of other business owners who
had a vendetta with Michael Simms," I said. "He brushed
against more people than you."
    "That’s true, Laila. Enough business owners
down the street have had problems with him in the past...but, I bet
they weren't hotheaded enough to respond to Michael's threats."
    "Do you still have the ones he wrote to you?"
    "I think I tore them up but I may have them
around my desk someplace."
    "Let’s hope you can find them before the
police decide to search Roasted Love and find only your written
threats. You don't have any other threats in your house, do you? The
police will probably search that too if they find any more evidence
against you."
    "I practiced writing more notes than you
found tonight," he said. "I wanted to duplicate the way he
threatened me. I did that at work."
    The more I realized how deep the rivalry