Free Death Tidies Up by Barbara Colley Page B

across the small table. “Please tell me you brought extra coffee,” she said. “I intended to stop at P.J.’s on the way, but when I passed by, there was a crowd and I didn’t want to be late.”
    With a grin, Charlotte reached down beside her and pulled a thermos from a tote bag. “It’s not that fancy stuff you prefer, but it’s strong and hot.” She set the thermos on the table. “I figured the least I could do was furnish everyone a cup of coffee.”
    While Cheré was busy unscrewing the lid off the thermos, Charlotte pulled out a stack of Styrofoam cups and a Ziploc bag containing plastic spoons, sugar packets, and creamer packets.
    Cheré sniffed the coffee. “Hmm, if your coffee’s as good as your iced tea, who cares if it’s fancy?”
    Charlotte laughed. “I brought some of that too, for later on.” But as she watched the younger woman pour herself coffee and stir in sugar and creamer, her laughter died.
    â€œCheré, I need your advice about something.”
    â€œSounds serious.”
    Charlotte shrugged. “It could be.” Then she went on to tell the younger woman about what she had found the night before.
    When she got to the part about shouting out a warning, a look of horror came over Cheré’s face. “I can’t believe you went in there by yourself. You should never have gone back inside without someone else being here.”
    Charlotte shrugged. “I didn’t exactly go all the way in—just inside the back door—but that’s not the point. The point is, should I warn the others?”
    â€œThat is the point, but no, I don’t see any reason to warn anybody. If anyone was in there, he’d be pretty stupid to stay there after all of that. Besides, with all of us trooping in, he’ll be outnumbered. But if you’re really worried, I can call Todd to come over. I think he’s working over on Seventh Street today.”
    At the mention of Todd Roussel, Charlotte suddenly grew decidedly uncomfortable. He’s nothing but a rich-boy hoodlum. She quickly shook her head. “No—I mean, I don’t think that’s necessary.”
    Was Louis right about Vince and Todd Roussel? It’s really none of your business.
    Yes it is, Charlotte argued with her conscience. Cheré is my employee and that makes it my business. But what to do about it? she wondered. Only one way to handle it, she thought. Just say it, straight out.
    Charlotte squared her shoulders. “I need to talk to you about something else too.”
    Cheré nodded. “Sure, what’s up?” Then she narrowed her eyes. “Uh-oh. I don’t like that look. You’re not firing me, are you?”
    Charlotte quickly shook her head. “No, of course not, silly. It’s nothing like that.” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I learned something disturbing that I think you should know,” she finally said. “It’s about—”
    Behind her, the sound of an approaching car intruded, and Charlotte glanced over her shoulder to see the other half of her cleaning team pulling into the parking lot. “Later,” she murmured as Janet Davis and Emily Coleman climbed out of the vehicle. “We’ll have to talk about it later.”
    â€œCharlotte?”
    â€œNot now, dear.” She nodded meaningfully toward the two women approaching them. “It’s a private matter, just between you and me.”
    Besides Cheré, Emily Coleman was another of Charlotte’s full-time employees. Emily, a stout woman in her late forties with salt-and-pepper hair, had been with Charlotte for five years. The other woman, Janet Davis, was in her early thirties. Tall and thin, with dishwater-blond hair, Janet had worked for Charlotte on and off as a temporary, part-time employee for the past three years.
    â€œGood morning,” Charlotte called out.